#scattering glass everywhere on the floor

[fate-defiant]

He did not, in fact, bag shit.

[nataliedecorsair]

For this Halloween, I present you my MRI monster + a little bonus story about it >:) --

It’s the tail end of October, when the days shrink down to thin slices of cold sunlight. The late autumn air is sharp and crisp. It’s carrying the scent of wet, dying leaves; it stirs a strange feeling inside you, a mix of melancholy and restless hunger for something more. An adventure, perhaps... or something darker.

And why not? You’re young, curious and like everything weird and unusual. For you anything out there is a story, and this one could be a story about the unfortunate abandoned hospital at the end of a broken road. Folks say this place is haunted, but maybe no one’s ever dared to find out for sure. You're certain it is time for you to solve this mystery for good.

You ease your way inside. The door gives a long, miserable creak as it opens, as if it hasn’t been touched in decades. The paint, once green, is almost gray now; it hangs in shreds, peeling off the wood like dead skin. The air in the hallway hits you, stale and thick, smelling of dust and something sour. You pull out your flashlight, clicking it on with a soft snap, and the narrow beam cuts through the dark, scanning over pockmarked walls and the occasional room. But, of course, you don't see anything but empty beds, rusty buckets, piles of ragged fabric left to rot. No signs of ghosts or ghouls - or anything remotely interesting, for that matter.

You explore for ten minutes, maybe more, telling yourself you’ll see something any second now. But after the seventh empty room, you start to think there's no mystery at all. Pretty expectable, isn't it? Or what, did you really think you’d find anything but dust, broken glass, and busted syringes? With a sigh, you turn to go, shaking your head.

You take a step into the hallway, flashlight slicing through the shadows, and that’s when you hear it: a low, dry crrrk-crrrk. At first, you think it’s the old building settling. But then it comes again, irregular and jittery, like static: crick-crack, crick-crick-crack. The sound’s sharper now, that unmistakable staccato of a Geiger counter ticking.

Your heart beats faster. You swing the flashlight in the direction of the noise, but there’s nothing there, just the same hollow walls and chipped paint. Crick-crack-crick. Louder now, closer... For a sick, sinking moment, you wonder if there’s something radioactive buried here, and shake your head in disbelief.

"It doesn’t make any sense," you think. "I don’t even have a Geiger counter." But your mind, stubborn as a mule, wrestles to make sense of the nonsense, to catalog that weird crackle and shove it into some drawer that fits. Maybe you’re just hearing things? The building is old, there could be some pipes. It's always the pipes that make the most uncanny noises.

But the thing making that sound... it doesn’t care whether you understand or not.

You run forward, not watching where you're stepping, and a rusty bucket clatters across the floor. You fumble as your flashlight slips from your hand, the beam ricocheting off the walls and scattering shadows like startled birds. You crouch to retrieve it, fingers scrambling over the filthy, dusty tiles. And that’s when you see it, illuminated by the flashlight laying on the floor.

Feet.

They're human, but wrong. Slightly translucent - and shot through with slowly swirling masses of black and red liquid, twisting just under the skin. You look upward, and you make out the outline of a woman in a tattered, filthy hospital gown. Her body consists of that liquid, contained within the thin walls of her grayish skin. Everywhere but her head. It looks like an MRI scan, flickering between 2D and 3D, a nightmare too strange for your eyes to comprehend. Empty white orbs stare down at you, soulless and wide. She has no lips, but her mouth peels back, revealing a row of long, black teeth: it almost looks like a smile. She leans in, and before you can scream, rushes towards you - and the world plunges into darkness.

...You wake up in your own bed, the morning light spilling through the curtains. What a horrible nightmare you just had! Head feels so heavy, it hurts with this annoying, pulsating, throbbing pain deep within your brain. You feel feverish. You got sick, perhaps? It would explain the dream, so realistic - and so ephemeral at the same time.

With a sigh, you brush your palm through your hair, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep... but your fingers snag on something. A clump of hair. You pull it free, bewildered. Since when have you started balding? Confusion morphs into unease as you glance down at the skin of your hand, red and sunburn. Sunburn in October? In this area?

"I should definitely see a doctor," you think, an anxious knot tightening in your stomach. "But not in this abandoned hospital." Nervous chuckle escaped your lips, as you tried to calm yourself down with this silly joke. "I will never go there again, whether it's a dream or not."

…At least, you thought so. -- More spooky art here and here

[yuvany]

COUNTING SHEEP

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 when you feel exhausted

OT7 enhypen x fem!reader . . . CONTENT / WARNING(S) : fluff + skinship + kisses + petnames + est relationship . . WORD COUNT : 848 . CHECK BOX !!

福 > LIKED THIS ? — " ENHYPEN BEING TIRED "

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

You were so tired that you didn't even want to wait until you reached somewhere more comfortable to sleep rather than the cool floor. You didn't mind, but Heeseung did. He walks into the corridor and saw you curled up on the floor with your legs tucked to your chest. He has a questioned look on his face and hunches down. Heeseung figures that you won't wake up, and lifts you into his arms to carry you to the bedroom to get a proper sleep. You wake up mid-way and Heeseung asks, "Is my princess finally awake?" You don't respond, but only rubs your eyes. "I must say that you did look comfortable." He chuckles and you kiss him on the cheek.

( rest of the members under the cut ! )

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Nothing worries Jay more than seeing you knocked out from exhaustion. He had seen you step foot into the house and taken a seat on the couch not too long ago, and now, you were out like a light. Jay figured that he could help you out and runs over to your room to grab your blanket and returns quickly to throw it over your limp body, being extremely careful not to wake you up on accident. Then he walks into the kitchen and prepares tea leaves while the water is boiling. After a while, he returns with a hot cup of tea and places it on the coffee table for when you wake up. He leans over and whispers, "Sweet dreams, my love."

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

Sees your head hovering over your desk with papers scattered everywhere. Jake curiously peeks from the bed and sees that you aren't writing anything and just exhales loudly. "Babe, what's up?" Jake asks, his voice seeming to smooth everything for a second. You groan and stretch your back. "I've been reading this over and over, but I can't seem to comprehend what it's saying." You complain. Jake jumps out of bed and rests his head on yoru shoulder as he looks at the paper. "How about we do it together, so you can sleep faster?" You nod at his idea and in return he kisses you on the cheek.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

Raises an eyebrow at the sight of your tired state, you notice this and raise your own. "What happened to you, sweetie?" He asks, opening his arms for you to walk into. "Wow, thank you." You reply sarcastically. Not accepting his hug. "You know I didn't mean it like that. Talk to me, pretty girl." Sunghoon says, lightly wrapping his arms around your shoudlers. You hug him and sigh into his chest. "Been a rough day at work, love." You say, feeling his palm run up and down your spine. "Let's get you changed and you can tell me all about it." Sunghoon slowly guides you to the bathroom.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Sunoo woke up in the middle of the night, wanting to go get himself a glass of water, but when he stumbles into the kitchen he sees you sitting there in front of your open laptop. "Sweetheart? What are you doing up so late?" He asks, his voice sounding huskier than you recognise. "I just remembered I needed to finish this." You say and show him what's on your laptop screen. "It's late though, can't you do this tomorrow?" He asks, his fingers finding your scalp to massage. "But I really need to." You say, but he suts you off and says, "You also need sleep, and I'm in need of cuddles anyway." He pulls you out of your seat and you give in with a sigh.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

"I'm so tired, won.." you mumble into his chest, the movie not being in your interest any more. Jungwon draws circles on your shoulder and kisses your temples. "Then we can go to sleep, angel." You hum stubbornly and shake your head. "No need, I can go to bed while you finish this movie." You explain, rubbing your eyes. Jungwon in turn shakes his head too. "It's either both of us, or none, babe." You sigh, feeling bad for him in this situation since you knew how much he wanted to see this film. "I'm not that tired any more," you lied, and he senses this, so he pulls the blanket over the two of you, and snuggles close to you with a smile. "Now it's sorted!"

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

You sat beside him while he was playing a video game, and throughout the time you spent together, your head would bump against his shoulder a couple of times due to the long day you already had and the dark setting illuminated by the soft lights of the television screen. Having your boyfriend beside you didn't change much of the fact either. At one point, you dozed off, and Riki hadn't realised it until you started to softly snore. He turned his head and was ready to say something until he saw your tired figure. He smiles to himself and helps you into a more comfortable position before turning off the game and cuddling close to you.

─── ꒰ 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗬𝗨𝗩𝗔𝗡𝗬 ꒱

[ consider reblogging and liking this post if you enjoyed it !! I hope you liked this just as much as I did ^3^ ]

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

hi can you do another protective rafe x reader, where she wants to escape from abusive boyfriend? 💕

THE CALL

Word Count: 0.8k

Pairing(s): Rafe x Reader x abusive!boyfriend

Warnings: domestic abuse, physical violence, emotional distress

Summary: Rafe saves you from your abusive boyfriend

You sat at the kitchen table, your hands trembling as you tried to keep calm. The tension in the room was suffocating. Your boyfriend’s angry muttering filled the space as he stalked back and forth, his fists clenching and unclenching. You flinched at every sharp movement he made, trying to avoid drawing his attention.

Then, the sound of your phone vibrating on the counter broke the silence. Both of you froze. His eyes darted to the screen just as you did.

Rafe’s name was glowing brightly, the sound of the ringtone cutting through the tense quiet.

“What the hell is this?” your boyfriend spat, grabbing the phone before you could react. “Why is he calling you?”

-

You didn’t answer. Your heart raced as you saw your chance. While he was distracted, you lunged for the phone, grabbing it with both hands and yanking it out of his grip.

“Rafe!” you screamed, pressing the answer button. “Help—”

You didn’t get to finish. Your boyfriend’s hand slammed down on your wrist, ripping the phone from your grasp. He ended the call in one swift motion before turning on you, his face contorted with rage.

“You’re calling him for help?” he roared, his voice shaking the walls. Before you could say a word, he hurled the phone against the tiled floor with a deafening smash. Pieces of glass and plastic scattered everywhere, and the sight made your chest tighten with fear.

“You’re pathetic,” he snarled. Then, without warning, he shoved you hard.

Your back slammed into the fridge with a sickening thud, the metallic surface rattling from the impact. Pain shot up your spine, and you crumpled to the floor, gasping for air.

“You think you can go behind my back? Call someone else to save you?” he yelled, towering over you as you tried to push yourself up.

Blood trickled from your forehead where a shard of glass from the shattered phone had grazed you, and your vision blurred with tears.

Rafe’s Perspective Rafe frowned as he stared at his phone, the call ending abruptly after he heard your desperate scream for help. “Help—” And then… silence. His stomach dropped, his heart pounding as he grabbed his keys off the counter. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. He didn’t need to think twice before running out the door, his hands shaking with fury and fear as he started the truck. You had told him things weren’t great at home, but you had never sounded so terrified. The image of you hurt or in danger filled his mind, fueling his need to get to you.

Your boyfriend was still yelling, but his words faded into the background. All you could focus on was the throbbing pain in your back and the faint trickle of blood running down your face.

Somehow, despite the fear clawing at your chest, you managed to push yourself to your feet, bracing against the fridge for support.

“You don’t get to treat me like this!” he screamed, stepping closer.

But then, the sound of tires screeching outside made you freeze. You heard the unmistakable slam of a car door, followed by heavy footsteps.

The front door burst open with a force that shook the frame.

“Get the hell away from her!” Rafe’s voice boomed, filled with a fury you’d never heard before.

Your boyfriend spun around, his anger momentarily replaced with surprise, but it didn’t last long. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he sneered, taking a step toward Rafe.

Rafe didn’t wait for an answer. He crossed the room in two long strides and swung, his fist connecting with your boyfriend’s jaw with a sickening crack. The impact sent him stumbling backward, crashing into the table and knocking over a chair.

“Touch her again, and I swear to God, I’ll kill you,” Rafe snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

Your boyfriend scrambled to his feet, blood dripping from his nose, and threw a wild punch. But Rafe easily dodged it, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the wall.

“Get out,” Rafe growled, his face inches from the other man’s. “Now.”

Your boyfriend hesitated, his eyes flicking to you, but Rafe tightened his grip, shoving him toward the door. “I said, get out.”

The man didn’t argue this time. He stumbled out of the apartment, clutching his jaw and muttering curses under his breath.

The moment the door slammed shut, Rafe turned to you, his expression softening as he took in your bloodied face and trembling form.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he said, rushing to your side. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Your lip quivered, and you nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks as you finally let yourself collapse into his arms.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured, holding you tightly. “I’m here.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed it.

@ilovethekookprince

@anonymouscameron

@rafecameronsgirfriend

🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗🆘❗

[p0orbaby]

Sinners | Envy

summary: jealousy rears its ugly head

warnings: SMUT 18+, use of a strap, dom!leah, angry sex

a/n: this one’s a little feisty

word count: 1.3k

Lust | Gluttony | Sloth | Greed | Wrath | Pride

-

Leah’s face is flushed, her eyes blazing with an anger that mirrors your own. This argument has been escalating for a while now, words sharpening into knives that cut deep. The room is thick with tension, the remnants of the stupid awards ceremony still hanging in the air like a bad smell. You can still hear the distant echoes of laughter and conversation from the afterparty, but here, in the suffocating silence of your living room, everything feels like it’s on the brink of exploding.

“Are you seriously trying to make this about me?” Leah snaps, her voice razor-sharp, slicing through the fragile calm that had barely been holding. “You were practically draped all over her. I invited you, for fuck’s sake. Do you have any idea how that made me look?”

You shove a hand through your hair, your frustration boiling over, turning your blood to lava. “I was just being friendly! You act like I’m not allowed to talk to anyone but you. That’s not my problem if you’re feeling insecure”

Leah’s eyes narrow into slits, and she steps closer, the heat radiating off her body making the air between you both almost unbearable. “Insecure? I’m not insecure. I’m pissed off because you’re being fucking disrespectful. You think you can just waltz in there and flirt with everyone while I’m supposed to sit there and smile?”

Her words sting, lashing out and striking nerves you didn’t even know were exposed. But beneath the surface of your anger, something else bubbles up—a twisted, burning need that’s just as furious and insatiable as the rage. You can’t deny the way her jealousy, her possessiveness, ignites something primal in you.

Before you can think twice, before you can convince yourself that fighting her off is the right move, you surge forward, grabbing her shirt and ripping it open, buttons scattering across the floor like shrapnel. Leah’s eyes widen in shock for just a moment, but then she’s on you, her hands yanking at your clothes with a savage desperation.

“You want to make a scene?” she growls, her voice rough and feral as she shoves your pants down your legs, nearly tearing them in the process. “Let’s fucking make one”

Clothes are discarded carelessly, the fabric pooling on the floor as your bodies clash in a heated frenzy. Leah’s hands are everywhere at once, her touch rough, almost punishing, as she presses you against the cold glass of the living room window. The sensation sends a shiver through your overheated skin, the stark contrast heightening the tension coiling in your belly.

Your breath fogs up the glass as Leah’s fingers slide between your legs, her touch demanding, insistent. “Stay right where you are,” she orders, her voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. “I’m going to show you exactly what happens when you step out of line”

You shiver at the raw authority in her voice, a mix of fear and arousal twisting in your gut. But the words that spill from your lips are defiant, almost mocking. “You think you can just control me? I’m not some toy for you to play with, Leah”

Her fingers pause, and for a moment, you think you’ve pushed her too far. But then she’s right up against you, her body pinning you to the glass, her breath hot against your ear. “Oh, you’re not just a toy. You’re mine,” she hisses, her voice laced with a dark promise. “And I’m going to make damn sure you never forget that”

She pulls away abruptly, and you hear the rustle of her moving across the room, followed by the unmistakable clatter of a drawer opening in the distance. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation and dread warring inside you. When she returns, she’s holding a strap, her eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and something darker, more primal.

“Since you want to act like a little brat,” Leah says, her voice low and intense, “I’m going to show the world who you belong to”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond before she’s positioning herself behind you, the cool plastic of the strap pressing against your entrance. You barely have time to brace yourself before she thrusts into you, hard and unyielding, the sensation almost too much too fast.

Your gasp echoes through the room, your body instinctively arching away from the cold glass as Leah grips your hips, holding you firmly in place. “Stay still,” she commands, her voice brooking no argument. “You’re going to take every inch of this, and you’re going to love it”

You can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips as she starts to move, her thrusts deep and punishing, each one driving you further into the window, the cool surface biting into your overheated skin. The pleasure is sharp, almost painful, but it’s exactly what you need, what you’ve been craving since the argument began.

Leah’s pace is relentless, her hands tight on your hips, her body pressing into yours with each thrust. “Tell me you’re mine,” she demands, her voice a fierce whisper, her breath hot against the back of your neck. “Say it”

You grit your teeth, stubbornness flaring up even as your body betrays you, pushing back against her with each thrust. “I’m not yours,” you manage to gasp out, even as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core.

Leah’s grip on your hips tightens almost painfully, and she leans in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “You’re about to be,” she growls, punctuating her words with a particularly hard thrust that nearly knocks the breath out of you.

Your defiance crumbles under the weight of her dominance, the pleasure and pain blurring together into a dizzying whirlwind that leaves you gasping for air. The slap of her skin against yours, the rough drag of the strap inside you, it’s all too much, too overwhelming.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Leah demands again, her voice harsher now, tinged with frustration and something more—desperation, maybe. “Say it, or I swear I’ll fuck you until you can’t speak”

The threat sends a thrill through you, your resolve wavering under the onslaught of sensation. “I’m… I’m yours,” you finally gasp out, your voice trembling, the admission dragged from your lips like a confession.

Leah’s pace doesn’t falter, but you can feel the satisfaction radiating from her, a dark chuckle vibrating through her chest as she leans in to nip at the back of your neck. “Good,” she murmurs, her tone dangerously soft. “Because you belong to me, and I’m going to make sure you remember it”

Each thrust drives the point home, the rhythm of her movements becoming almost hypnotic, your body surrendering completely to her control. You’re pushed closer and closer to the edge, your hands braced against the window, your breath fogging up the glass as you struggle to hold on to any semblance of control.

But Leah doesn’t give you that luxury. She fucks you harder, deeper, her grip on your hips unrelenting, her dominance absolute. “Look at yourself,” she demands, her voice a low growl. “Look at how good you take me. How much you need me”

Your eyes flicker open, catching your reflection in the window, and the sight that greets you is almost too much. You’re pressed up against the window, your skin flushed, your lips parted as you pant for breath, Leah’s body moving behind you with a determined ferocity that leaves you trembling. The image is raw, primal, and the sight of yourself like this—vulnerable and utterly dominated—sends you spiraling over the edge.

You come with a cry that echoes around the room, your body shuddering violently as the orgasm rips through you, Leah’s name falling from your lips like a prayer. But she doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, driving you through the aftershocks, her own breaths coming in ragged gasps as she holds you steady.

When she finally pulls out, you’re left slumped against the window, your body trembling, your mind a hazy blur of pleasure and exhaustion. Leah presses a kiss to your shoulder, her touch now gentle, soothing the sting of her earlier roughness.

“Remember, please” she murmurs, her voice low and almost tender, her lips brushing against your ear. “Remember that you’re mine”

[star-har]

fading

it’s your birthday.

gojo’s been dreading it.

it had felt like carrying a heavy weight— a boulder that grows in size as the days passed by, until the calendar finally marked what he’s been fearing.

when he wakes up on your morning, he can’t get out of bed. doesn’t see a reason to.

it’s raining, loud and relentless. the drops patter against his windows, almost somber and melancholy and angry— as if the world itself is mourning your loss.

he doesn’t blame it. the world should be mourning, now that its one shining light and been burned out.

it’s late afternoon when he clambers from his bed, bounding to the kitchen to make his usual coffee; he used to make two. yours would be simple— coffee, milk and sugar. a complete contrast to his own, filled with syrups and chocolate and anything sweet his hands could find.

he would cringe in disgust as you sipped at it, wondering just how you drank yours such bitterly.

he only makes one cup now.

with the exception of the morning he’d woken up from a dream with you. he’d sauntered off to make your cup, assuming you were in the bathroom, and it was midday that it had dawned on him— you were only a dream.

your cat, mochi, is curled up on the couch, pawing aimlessly at where you usually loved to sit.

it’s the perfect view, you’d like to say as you scratched mochi’s belly, the sky looks beautiful from here.

she knows what day it is too. gojo had caught her waiting by the door as your birthday lingered nearer, waiting for your nonexistent arrival.

‘she’s not coming back, damn it,’ gojo would mutter as she pawed at the door. but the stubborn cat would return back to her post everyday without fail.

he decides to stand out on the balcony, despite the thundering rain. he’s remembering the way you’d hug his waist from behind and pepper kisses into his skin as you two watched the sun disappear, being replaced by the moon.

he grinds his teeth and throws his coffee on the floor, the glass shattering and scattering.

you’re everywhere— and it’s almost as if it’s amplified today. the one day gojo already feels like he shouldn’t be here. not without you by his side.

he curses and closes the balcony door, sweeping the glass so your cat won’t hurt herself. you’d kill him if she ever did.

he shrugs on his coat and leaves his flat after, stopping by a flower shop that you’d love to visit.

each, and every time, you’d pause by the pretty, pink lilies. with gentle fingers, you would caress their stems and sniff their fragrance— that beautiful smile always staining your mouth.

he sees them today. they’re beautiful, dainty. but the muted pink is replaced by a brighter one, full of life and colour and beauty.

as if they were a reincarnation of you. the love of his life given form again.

he picks them up with agile hands like you’d always do, making his way to the cashier.

the lady at the register seems surprised to see him there. “gojo, dear?” she says, thin lips pursing with a smile. “it’s been so long, sweetie.”

he hadn’t really had the courage to step into this shop when you passed last year— this has been his first time in a very long while.

“i’ve been busy, mrs. murphy.” he says the words softly but can hardly find it in himself to muster up a smile.

she seems to understand because she doesn’t pry and lets gojo leave with no more question. he’s grateful.

he places them in his car with the same gentleness you’d have, and reverses out of the parking lot.

your grave is a knife in his chest. a sharp stab that hurts and is recurring and painful because seeing it makes it so much more real than gojo thought it would.

as if all those months of reaching to your side of the bed to be met with cold emptiness hadn’t been because you were gone to use the washroom or to brew late night tea.

you were gone. you are gone. gojo can’t do anything about it.

he cries. he hasn’t cried since your funeral. he drops to your grave— polished with no rust because he’d paid monument care a hefty price to maintain your resting place. it only makes sense— for your grave to be as beautiful as you.

he places the flowers on the grass, tucking it into the mud so the wind doesn’t carry them away.

his tears mix with the rain, still thrumming down on him hard.

the rain continues as he spends hours there. wordless, quiet, staring with you as the sky turns pink and then dark blue.

he leaves before he can cry again and when he comes home, gojo pads off into your library. he hasn’t been there since you left him, but it’s a sudden urge— like he needs to feel you again in anyway he can.

mochi’s already there, scratching at the door, meows woeful.

he twists the door handle, and with a deep, shuddering breath, pushes in.

flowers. vanilla. love. your smell hugs him so tightly and gojo has never felt so warm. your embrace only tightens as he slips further into your library, fingers tracing shelves as mochi purrs after him, her paws scratching the wooden floorboards.

he stops by your window seat, heart breaking a little as he sees the book you’d been reading before you died. a classic— pride and prejudice.

he drops onto the seat and picks it up, mochi following in his wake. the fat, ginger cat curls up in his lap— he knows mochi is pretending. hoping he’ll give her the same feeling you used to.

in truth, no one can. your presence is one no one can replace nor match.

she meows in his lap, mourning. sad.

“I miss her too, mochi,” gojo says and pats the cat on its head.

the two sit there, long into the night, as gojo reads where you’d left off. you’d do this a lot, have mochi and gojo huddle around you as you read aloud to them.

he wishes he could remember how you sound. your voice had been a comforting melody to his ears, something that never failed to ease gojo’s pain away.

but as the days ticked by, his memory had grown to lose it.

had grown to lose nearly everything about you. your eyes, your smile, your singing. everything.

gojo cries again. he can’t help it. no matter how hard he grinds his teeth or how strong he fists his hands. he doesn’t try to stop the flooding, either. he needs this. needs a good cry to remember you and miss you.

only when mochi has gone to sleep in his lap and gojo reaches the final page to your story, closing his eyes, does he feel it.

a soft brush of wind.

the rain had stopped, being replaced by a humid and quiet night. odd for the wind to be out. but he feels it, nonetheless.

feels a breeze brush past his cheek, wisp through his hair and ruffle mochi’s fur.

he feels you. your warm embrace, your soft touch. and everything in gojo’s body calms. his thoughts quieten, his heart thrums steadily, his tears dry.

it’s you— he knows it. he’s never believed in an afterlife or anything alike it, but you could make him believe in everything and anything.

it’s you. your love, your touch, your kiss.

you engulf him with a hug that feels so natural and beautiful and gojo finds that this is peace. this is what he lives for— remnants of you and your love lingering in unexpected places and unforeseen ways.

you were always like that, in a sense. unpredictable and so, so peaceful.

gojo falls asleep soon, to the hum of your love and your whisper on the wind. and he finds it’s the best sleep he’s had in a while.

———

did I cry 10 times while writing this? yes. I hate angst. but oh how I loooooveee it.

I can never bring myself to right angst because I always end up making the ending a happy one but today I sat down and was like I need a good cry and I threw up this.

i hope it made u sad as much as it made me sad… <3

kisses and lots of love,

har xx

[lixie-phoria]

summer sun forever (stray kids comforting their 9th member!reader)

pairing : platonic stray kids x fem!9th member reader

requested : yes

warnings - mentions of blood, description of poor parenting (lmk if i've missed any!)

genre - angst to comfort

jeongin thought it was normal, the way you would sit alone during group discussions giving your input only when asked directly.

seungmin though it was a habit, the way you would immediately pinch yourself if you made a mistake.

felix thought it was out of good nature that you would constantly appreciate his sunshine-like personality and inability to be mad for longer than a few moments.

han thought it was adorable, the way you would cover your smile while laughing at one of his jokes, trying to hold back any laugh that was louder than a giggle.

hyunjin thought it was just your strive for perfection that you would spend hours more than the other boys trying to perfect your choreographies, scared to mess up.

changbin thought it was a personal preference, the way you'd always dress up in lose clothing, rejecting anything that was too fitting.

lee know thought it was impressive, the way you could recognize any member just from his footsteps approaching your room or the way you always left one ear uncovered when using headphones.

but chan knew. or he thought he did, at least. maybe it was brotherly instincts kicking in, but he knew these habits weren't healthy. far from it. it concerned him, but he didn't know how to approach you either.

his concerns were triggered for the first time when you dropped a glass at the dorms, sharp shards scattering everywhere. you didn't notice him rush to help you as he stopped dead in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you pick up the broken pieces with bare hands. he saw the way your hands were trembling and how a particularly tricky piece sliced right through your skin, blood oozing out. you didn't even flinch, sparing the cut a small glance before you went back to cleaning the floor. you didn't bother trying to disinfect it, opting to only run it under the tap and wiping it away with a few tissues. then you crumpled them up, making sure the members wouldn't notice the red on the paper and went about your day as usual. chan waited, patiently, expecting you to bring up the injury to anyone, but you didn't, so he thought maybe it was just a small cut. maybe it was just a small wound, after all.

you would tell them if you were really hurt, right?

the second time chan notices something wrong is when you hit your upper arm at the edge of the table during dinner. it had hurt, that much he knew from the way you yelped and rubbed the sore spot. he had laughed at your clumsiness with the others as you smiled sheepishly, ducking your head and running away to your room to do who knows what. he thought he saw tears in your eyes, but you didn't mention the bruise again, so they all thought you were okay.

but chan's breaking point was when stays themselves noticed something was wrong. he was scrolling through instagram when a particular reel caught his attention. it was of their dance performance, and the fan had zoomed into your figure - specifically your upper arm - and the large reddish blue spot was so strikingly evident it took him three rewatches to make sure it was not an edit. how had any of them missed it? then another reel came up, and it was you wincing slightly as lee know jokingly shook your hand, the same one you had cut while cleaning the glass. and it's like the pieces immediately fall into place.

chan doesn't think twice. before he knows it he's out of his room and walking (more like storming) towards yours, and he doesn't bother knocking. but even then, you had been expecting him, because you're staring at the door with a small smile on your face.

"i heard you coming. is everything ok?"

it's the first time your keen observation skills concern him, but he doesn't answer, instead striding towards you and lifting your arm despite your complaints. when his eyes zero-in on the bruise that you had expertly been concealing, he sees red. he isn't sure why he's angry. it's not your fault. but he is mad, and he couldn't control it.

of course you could see it on his face, and it's like you go into auto pilot mode, snatching your arm back and immediately apologizing, making excuses that fly straight out of his ears. he tries to hold back, he really does, but he can't. and before he can stop, the damage is done.

"don't bother. you clearly don't trust us enough anymore."

in hindsight, that was probably the worst thing chan could have said to you. blaming you would only worsen things, but he's so confused and disappointed in himself. he didn't know what kept you on the edge so often, and it hurt him that you wouldn't open up.

and thus the apparent cold war began.

you weren't mad. no. far from that. you were terrified. you had disappointed chan, the one person who made you feel safe always. the one person you knew you could go to with anything. but you chose not to, and now maybe you never will be able to. and it was like you were a teenager again, crying yourself to sleep every night, cautious of every word you spoke, and jumping at the slightest raised voice.

chan wasn't mad either. he was confused. he was hurt, a little bit. and he regretted the words he had carelessly spat out. it clearly hadn't been the right approach and now it hurt him to see the way you would tense whenever he stepped into the room, not making eye-contact and apologizing profusely to everybody for the smallest mistakes.

he thought giving you space was the best option for now. but in hindsight, that was a terrible decision too. he didn't realize how angry he was coming off as. he didn't know that not just you but all the members thought he was giving you the silent treatment. and for you, that hit too close to home. literally.

"ynnie, do you want some more soup?"

felix is met with a timid yes as he happily pours you another serving. but even his bubbly smile couldn't diffuse the obvious tension in the atmosphere. the other 7 didn't know the details of what had happened. chan knew you would want to tell them yourself if you told them at all, but they knew it was bad. because now you barely smiled and chan always seemed tense.

"and salt?"

again, you only nod, reaching towards the jar he was offering, when it happens. all of a sudden. jeongin's arm brushes yours, and as his elbow pushes into your bruise, you yelp, the lid falling to the floor with a loud shattering sound.

the silence that follows immediately after is loud, and everyone notices the way you go completely still. unnaturally still, as though waiting for someone to yell at you. lee know recovers first, and as he bends down to pick up the fallen object, you flinch, and their hearts collectively shatter.

what was the matter with you lately?

before they know it, you're gulping the steaming hot soup down, hurriedly apologizing and making a bee line for your room. but this time, everyone can see the tears brimming your waterline.

nobody gets up, but nobody eats anymore either. the silence only intensifies until chan groans, burring his face in his hands.

"hey lix, you mind checking up on her? i don't think she's doing very well."

the blonde boy doesn't need to be told twice. he's making his way towards your room and when he enters, the floor slides from beneath him. you're curled up in your bed, trying to muffle your sobs that wrack through your body.

when you see him come in, your first instinct is to hide. to not show. but it's too late, because he's rushing towards you, embracing you in the warmest hug. its comforting, in a way you have never felt before, and that only spirals your break down further.

felix doesn't know what to do or say. he doesn't know what happened. he doesn't know what could make you feel better, but it's so incredibly heart breaking the way you curl up into yourself as though trying to reject any help that it brings tears into his own eyes.

it isn't long before the others come following, and when chan sees you it's like a part of him dies. you look so small, so hurt, so breakable. and deep down, he knows this could have been avoided if he'd thought twice before lashing out at you.

"yn."

his voice is soft, and when you notice him you're scrambling out of felix's grasp, and he almost thinks you're trying to get way from him. but then you're throwing yourself into his arms with apologies tumbling out along with your sobs. he tries to calm you down, running a hand through your hair, but you're inconsolable. they have never seen you cry like this before.

"calm down, angel. please. talk to me."

it's the first time chan has spoken to you in more than a week, and you hadn't realized how much you had missed it. how much his silence had been affecting you.

"please don't be mad at me." you whimper as chan guides you sit on your bed, the other 7 hovering around unsure of what to do but concern reflecting in each of their eyes.

"mad? i'm not mad, ynnie. i'm concerned."

his words come as a shock.

he's concerned?

"but i'm crying."

"that's exactly why i'm concerned."

"oh."

you've never heard these words before. you never thought you would. growing up, showing emotions was a big no. crying was almost a taboo. showing emotions was for the weak, as your parents would say. they didn't wish to raise a weak daughter. nobody ever showed you concern. it was either anger or silence.

you've run out of tears, but dry sobs still shake your body every few seconds as chan holds you closer, motioning for the rest to sit down.

"do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head. no. you were bad at talking about your feelings. they didn't have to know. it's not that important.

"you have to open up at some point, yn."

"i don't want to burden you guys."

"burden us?"

even seungmin, who usually stays expressionless during conflicts, seems appalled.

"yn, your emotions are not a burden."

"that's not what mum used to say."

you didn't mean to say it out loud, but it slips from your mouth and they all seem to have heard it.

chan's grip on you tightens. none of them knew much about your family. you didn't like talking about it. now it was slowly coming to them exactly why this preference could be.

"you can trust us, you know? we want to be there for you."

"i do trust you."

"then why won't you tell us what's wrong."

"don't want to annoy you any further."

the guilt gnaws at chan as felix pulls you away from his grasp, snuggling you into his side.

"yn, i wasn't mad. i was trying to give you space."

"i thought you were ignoring me." and in a smaller voice you reluctantly add "like my parents used to. everytime they were mad."

even han is somewhat misty eyed as felix runs calming circles against your upper arm.

"we would never give you the silent treatment."

"yeah! we love you way too much for that."

"is that why you're so closed off?"

"changbin! you can't just ask her that."

you giggle tiredly, earning a small smile from chan.

"it's alright. i'm glad you asked binnie. i think i'm ready to tell you guys."

they're all attentively waiting, and you shift uncomfortably. you never thought you would have this conversation.

"growing up, my parents didn't encourage me to express myself very much. i wasn't allowed to make mistakes, and if i did, they would give me the silent treatment for days on end. i hated it."

your voice is so small and fragile it breaks their hearts a little more.

"i've gone weeks trying to get my mother to speak to me normally. to act like she cared. but she'd always be so cold, insistent on punishing me for every little thing."

"and-" your voice broke, making hyunjin join felix in smothering you with cuddles.

"take your time, yn."

you hum, closing your eyes to stop the fresh wave of tears.

"and when chan stopped talking to me, i felt terrible. i thought i disappointed him too."

there was no more place, but chan joins the tangle of you, felix, and hyunjin as well, rubbing a soothing hand on your back.

"i'm so sorry i made you feel that way ynnie. i had no idea."

"it's not your fault," you admit, leaning into his chest.

"are we good now?"

"i hope so."

chan lets out that breathy laugh of his which you've grown to love over the years.

"don't ever hide your feelings from us, ynnie. you're a part of us. we don't want to see you hurting."

felix bops your nose as you smile, and it's all so corny and sweet, but it's also exactly what you need.

"now can we please have a movie night?"

"yah! jeongin. give her some time."

"no no, i'd actually love that. please?"

they're all ready to do whatever you want. it warms your heart and you almost cry again. nobody ever did this for you. you learned to think you didn't deserve it.

but here these 8 boys were, scrambling around trying to a build you a pillow fort and searching the shelves for snacks, yelling at each other across the house.

and as you're sitting there, you think that this could be your favorite site. they could be your favorite people. this could be your favorite memory. this feeling of being at home could be your favorite forever.

©lixie-phoria, 2023 taglist : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

[jasvtsc]

blood.

it was everywhere.

a crimson stream descending every crevice in once pearly white tiles.

when dean entered the bathroom it looked like a tornado just passed through it — the mirror was shattered, pieces of glass in the sink, some stained with blood scattered all over the floor. water was still running, the colour now red instead of being transparent, overfilling the bathtub as steam clouded in the air, making his vision blurry and his lungs burn as he struggled to breathe.

he almost couldn’t see at first.

he almost missed the sight of his sweet angel.

his sweet darling now dead.

at first, he didn’t believe it — she was an angel for fuck’s sake. a heavenly being thousands and thousands of years old that couldn’t be killed this easily.

but then, with each shallow breath he took and each rapid beat of his heart, he slowly walked closer, his hands shaking and tears welling up in his eyes when every passing second filled with silence only made the realisation settle in. the harsh reality that someone—or something—had hurt his beloved birdie.

“no, no, no, no—” would leave his mouth like some sickening mantra that would possibly bring her back.

with a pained groan, he fell to his knees, gently cradling her face, his calloused thumbs stroking her cheeks oh so softly. his lip trembled as he tried swallowing an aching lump formed in his throat, his grief piling up in his chest as if millions of tiny needles were poking at it, trying to get to his now shattered heart.

his sweet angel was dead.

she was murdered in cold blood.

and he wasn’t there to protect her. he wasn’t there when she needed him the most.

“no, birdie—” he rasped out desperately, choked sobs leaving his mouth as he carefully placed a kiss on her pale face. slowly, he made sure to kiss every freckle, every part of her perfect skin, now so fair and cold under his touch.

he turned the water off and cradled her lifeless body, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her in. he rested her head on his chest and completely broke down the moment that he buried his face in her hair — it still had that sweet scent he was intoxicated with — like freshly picked forget-me-nots from the field they first met at. the same scent that engraved his way into his brain ever since he found her in that meadow.

dean completely broke down.

he didn’t try to control his tears anymore and let them fall freely down his face. he cried loudly for the first time in his life, his whole body shaking uncontrollably as sadness and pain completely overwhelmed him.

he ran his fingers through her damp hair, careful not to tug on them too hard even though it didn’t matter anymore. she couldn’t feel it, she would never feel his touch again. he would never feel her touch anymore, he would never feel her small fingers running up and down his neck in that soothing manner when he rested his head on her chest.

he would never hear her heartbeat again.

it gnawed at him, making the hole in his heart bigger, when he realised that he would never hear her laugh again. he would never hear her sweet voice calling his name ever again, and the silence filling the room only seemed as a harsh reminder of the truth in front of him.

his birdie was dead.

letting go of her lifeless body, he stood up, taking a shuddering breath as he moved his hands to his head, tugging at his short hair in frustration. a pained whimper escaped him as he looked around the bathroom, the mess that whoever got in here had caused. 

her blood was everywhere.

whoever did that, made sure to be especially cruel.

only then did he spot a crimson-red writing on the wall right next to the mirror.

“payback, winchester”

whoever did that was onto him — the only purpose of killing his sweet angel was revenge.

it was his fault.

someone hurt you only to get back at him and he wasn’t even there to prevent it.

scream full of pain and grief escaped his throat, leaving a nasty feeling of his vocal cords straining as he let out his emotions. he screamed in anger that filled his body as he gasped for air, taking another look at his angel, her empty eyes once full of life and curiosity, now looking at him as a mocking reminder of what he had lost. of what he had done.

he killed his sweet birdie.

and that thought would hunt him for the rest of his meaningless life.

that he had made his birdie a fallen angel.

[yiichan]

I'd love to see an almost inverse version of effortlessly- where chan (feels odd to say his name in this context lol) is a submissive stalker- almost pathetic and desperate for the reader to pay attention to him, and by extension, be claimed/posessed by the reader. Think limerence. I'm excited to see what you write next!

😶‍🌫️

pairings. yandere!sub!chan x top!m!reader (ft. jeonghan & vernon). word count. 2.7k genre. yandere, request, smut.

warnings. obsessive behaviour, manipulation, the (in)famous drunk dino and kneeling jeonghan story, stalking, drunk sex, no protection (pull out game, sorry. please use a condom, people, ik mpreg doesn't happen in reality but you might never know), anal fingering, biting, chan is feral, reader is younger (idk but i feel like lee chan should be a hyung here), oral sex (chan receiving), use of drugs.

writer's notes. it took me a long time to figure out how i should write this. i might have went out of the theme im sorry hehe. normally im all down for bottom chan (esp wonchan or allchan) but i prefer uke male readers (rip my current and future ocs' and readers' asses). i hope that you are satisfied with this, though. let me know about your thoughts through my inbox, the anon who sent this in!

mentioning my imperial beta reader, @sousydive

network: @mansaenetwork

masterlist | navigation | main page | kofi | ao3

Chan needs you like a fish needs water.

You are his air, his world, his everything. His heart races wildly every time he catches a glimpse of you walking down the lecture hall.

But his love—no, his obsession—runs far deeper than simple admiration. He knows everything about you: your schedule, your favorite seat in the lecture hall, the snacks you nibble on between classes. He’s memorized the little quirks that make you you—the way you twist your pen between your fingers when lost in thought, the slight tilt of your head as you read, the soft furrow of your brows when something puzzles you.

Before he even realizes it, his phone is in his hand, snapping another photo of you. A snapshot of you deep in thought. Another of you sitting alone at the cafeteria. One of you walking home.

And then, there’s the one that sends his pulse racing the most—a picture of you standing by your window, reaching out to close it.

The pictures are printed and carefully pinned across the walls of his room, a shrine dedicated to you. Chan has convinced himself it isn’t wrong. He’s not hurting anyone, after all. He just wants to keep a part of you close, something to hold onto during the hours you’re out of reach.

But it isn’t enough.

The pictures, the fleeting glimpses of you, the stolen moments he captures through his camera lens—they only feed the growing void inside him. He needs more. He craves more.

He doesn’t just want to watch from the shadows anymore. He wants you to see him. To look at him the way he looks at you. To need him the way he needs you.

You were looking at your phone when you bumped into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” you quickly apologized, boxes tumbling to the ground as papers scattered everywhere. The man you knocked onto the floor coughed, peering up at you with narrowed eyes.

“It’s okay. Could you help me find my glasses, please?” His voice was soft and warm—and your heart skipped a beat. You bent down, quickly retrieving a pair of golden-rimmed glasses from the floor, gathering his scattered papers in the process.

You recognized him.

Lee Chan, from the finance department. He was a popular student—quiet, yet effortlessly attractive.

You held out your hand, and Lee Chan grabbed it, using you to pull himself up from the floor. “Thanks.”

“No worries, I wasn’t looking my way…” You passed the papers back to him, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment. You were slightly taller than him, and as he stood close, you couldn’t help but notice a faint, sweet strawberry-like scent coming from him.

Your ears burned. What were you thinking?

“It’s fine. I wasn’t paying attention either.” Lee Chan pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Oh, I know you. You’re from the sports department, right?”

“Yeah. You’re Lee Chan, right?” You made a quick bow, which he returned. “I didn’t know someone famous in this college would know someone like me, haha.” You tilted your head, scratching at the back of your neck again.

Lee Chan raised a brow, his tone surprised. “Are you trying to brag or something? You’re famous for that baseball match, you know?”

“Am I?” You laughed. Lee Chan nodded.

“Anyway, I should be on my way.” He glanced at his watch, ready to leave. You eyed the boxes and papers still scattered around, feeling guilty about knocking into him.

“Actually, I can help you, you know?” you said, flexing your toned arms with a grin. Before Lee Chan could protest, you quickly grabbed the heavy boxes from his hands. Seeing that you’d left no room for argument, Lee Chan reluctantly allowed you to carry the boxes for him.

By the time you reached the finance department, you had already started calling him "Chan hyung"—a natural transition since you two were now exchanging phone numbers. The walk had been brief, but there was something about the way Chan kept glancing at you, his lips curling into a small smile every time you caught his gaze, that made the air feel charged, even in the mundanity of it all.

"Thanks for helping me out," Chan said once you reached the door. He paused, the corners of his mouth still lifted in that soft, almost shy smile.

You grinned. "No problem, hyung. I’ll see you around, then?"

He nodded, and you gave him a quick wave before heading back towards the sports department.

From that day onward, Chan was always on your mind. You could almost always smell that intoxicating scent of sweet strawberries whenever you walked down the corridors. You found yourself checking Chan’s social media, or searching for his figure when you passed the finance department.

Chan texted you from time to time—sometimes to congratulate you on a game, other times to ask if you'd be up for a casual coffee. You would invite him to watch your games, eagerly looking for his familiar figure among the crowds. 

Until one day, when you got a phone call from him.

You had just finished practice and were washing up at the dorm when your phone rang. Stepping out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your waist, you quickly checked the caller ID. Your eyes widened when you saw who was calling.

Without hesitation, you answered, putting the phone on loudspeaker as you grabbed another towel to dry your hair. "Chan hyung?" you asked, your voice slightly breathless.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the phone was unfamiliar. You frowned, pausing in your actions as you glanced at the screen. The background noise was chaotic—loud music and indistinct chatter. “Sorry, are you Chan’s friend? Could you come pick him up? He’s, uh, really drunk—VERNON! HOLD HIM!—sorry, he’s very, very drunk right now.”

You blinked, your pulse quickening. “Oh.” The unexpected turn of events threw you off balance.

There was a brief pause, and you could hear muffled voices in the background. Whoever was on the phone sounded frazzled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out... but he’s not really making any sense right now. He keeps asking for you. Can you come?”

Your hand tightened around the towel at your waist. Chan, drunk? And asking for you? It was a lot to process in a moment. “Uh, yeah, I’ll be there. Just... send me the address.”

The call ended abruptly, and the address was quickly sent to you. You threw on a casual shirt and black pants, grabbed your jacket and wallet, and headed out of the dorm. You hailed a cab and gave the driver the address.

As you neared your destination, you saw three figures standing at the roadside outside a nightclub. You instructed the cab driver to stop and wait for you, then quickly opened the door and rushed over.

Chan was holding onto a lamppost while one man supported him. The other man was kneeling before him, almost as if begging him to let go of the poor pole. You rushed forward, calling out, “Chan hyung!”

Your heart pounded as you neared the scene. The man who had been kneeling quickly stood up, pointing toward you. “He’s here! Chan-ah, please, let go of the lamppost—”

Chan’s head snapped up, his glassy eyes locking onto yours. A small, drunken smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but it seemed distant and unfocused. His grip on the lamppost tightened for a moment before he slowly, shakily let go and staggered toward you. “You... You came,” he slurred, his voice slow and heavy with alcohol.

You instinctively reached out to support him as he wobbled toward you. His breath smelled faintly of alcohol and something else—something sweet, like strawberries. He tried to stand on his own but swayed dangerously, his body pressing too heavily against yours.

The man who had been kneeling sighed in relief, a slight smile on his face. “Thanks for coming. He’s been asking for you for the past half hour. We thought he might knock himself out with the pole at some point.” He sighed, while the other man nodded coolly. You recognized them as Yoon Jeonghan and Vernon Chwe from the marketing department. As Chan leaned heavily on your shoulder, you gave a quick bow to them. “Nice to meet you, sunbaes. I’m—”

“We know you.” Jeonghan gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’re the rising star of the baseball team, Cheolie’s most reliable striker. Besides, Channie told us a lot about you.” He sighed at the man currently trying to hide his face in your neck. You quickly wrapped your jacket around him as he tightened his arms around your waist. “I see. Do you have the address to his dorm?”

“About that,” Vernon spoke up. “Chan’s dorm room is undergoing renovations. He’s been crashing at Jeonghan hyung’s place, but since he got drunk, he refused to leave with him. If you don’t mind, could you bring him back to your dorm instead?”

“Sure.” You nodded. Jeonghan looked relieved. “Great, I’ll leave Channie in your hands.” He said, before dragging Vernon off in the opposite direction. You gently guided Chan’s hands off you and led him back to the cab. 

By the time the cab reached your dorm, Chan had already fallen asleep. The driver, kind enough to assist, helped you carry Chan onto your back, and you left him a generous tip. Once inside, you laid Chan gently on your bed.

As you straightened up to grab a warm towel, a hand gripped your shirt tightly. You looked down to see Chan staring up at you, a faint blush across his face. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just getting a towel for you, hyung,” you replied, taking in his appearance. Chan wasn’t wearing his usual glasses—his eyes were wide, pupils dark, pulling you in like a siren. You swallowed, suddenly aware of the sweet scent of strawberries filling the room.

“Stay,” Chan insisted, his head tilting slightly to the side. You nodded, a bit dazed, and before you could fully process what was happening, he pulled you onto the bed, positioning himself to straddle you.

When your lips crashed, you froze, your hands laying helplessly at either side of your hips. You could feel Chan grinding on you, his hands gripping your shirt as his lips moulded with yours. When Chan finally pulled away from you to gasp for air, you quickly held him by the waist, stopping his movements. “Hyung… You’re drunk-”

“‘M not drunk,” Chan replied, his hands snaking down your chest. Your face burnt as he reached the hem of your pants, teasingly pulling at the band. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Hyung…” You swallowed. The air thickens as Chan frowned, leaning so close that your noses touched. “You want me to beg you? Please, fuck me?” He growled, grinding harshly at the tent in your pants. You let out a groan, your grip around his waist tightening. “I-”

“I’m giving you permission to put your cock in my ass right now. I like you.” Your eardrums ringed as Chan confesses, one hand pulling up his shirt while the other working on your pants. You choked on your own saliva at the sight of his body, quickly turning your head to the side. “Hyung, sl-slow down.”

Articles of clothing were soon removed, pooling at the ground of your bed. Chan is now lying beneath you, one hand grabbing the sheets as he moaned loudly, his other hand now tightening around your hair. You hollowed your mouth, your tongue flicking against his tip as you gave a harsh suck. 

Chan whimpered, arching his back off your sheets as his thighs clamped around your head. You ignored the tightness around your head, your finger working relentlessly on his hole as he thrashed around the sheets, wailing loudly before spilling into your mouth. “Ah…ha…”

The taste of salty musk and sweet strawberries filled your tongue as you lolled them out, letting them spill onto your fingers. Using Chan’s cum and your saliva as lube, you continued to venture in him, earning a loud cry from the older man. “Wait- T-too mu-”

“You were impatient just now, hyung.” You replied, forcing his knees to open for you again. Chan panted, looking at you through his hooded lids and wet hair. His upper body was littered with hickeys and bite marks, his nipples red and swollen. “I’m just giving you what you want.”

You added another finger into him, stretching him out as he moaned your name in earnest. A particular sharp jab of your fingers caused him to arch his back yet again, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You poked around that soft muscle for a few more times, before pulling your fingers out. 

“You…” Chan looked down at you, a confused yet fucked out expression on his face. You stood between his legs, your expression suddenly mortified. “Um, hyung, I don’t have condoms…”

“Just do it raw.” Chan deadpanned, rolling his eyes. He raised his knees up, hanging them over your shoulder and hooking you closer to him. “It’s not like I would get pregnant.”

Your cock twitches at his words and you hummed in reply. “You do know the colour system-”

“Green, now hurry up and fuck m- ah, shit,” You guided your hardness towards his hole, burying in Chan’s warmth with one slow thrust. You could feel him sucking you in as you groaned, pushing gently so as to not hurt him. 

Once you bottomed out, Chan’s eyes were unfocused. You leaned downwards to nibble at his swollen lips, and his hand quickly wrapped around your neck, supporting himself. You took this as a sign to continue, and your hips started to move. 

Moans and groans bounced off the walls as you rammed Chan into the sheets. Chan felt like a drug, his addictive scent filling your nose and brain as you continued to plant hickeys along the sides of his neck. It didn’t take long for Chan to arch his back again, and so you stopped. 

“Wha- Y-” Before Chan could say anything, you flipped him around, still impaled in him. Your hips moved at an unforgiving speed, as Chan could only cry your name out in both pleasure and mercy. “Can’t… Please- close…”

“I’m close too, hyung.” You pressed a gentle kiss on his shoulder, your hand reaching down to grab at his cock. A few lazy tugs and Chan was cumming, his head on your shoulder as he sobbed, falling to the bed. You groaned at the sudden tightness, pulling out before tight ropes of your cum spurt over Chan’s back and ass. 

“I’ll clean you up, hyung,” you whispered softly as Chan’s heavy eyelids fluttered with exhaustion. Carefully, you lifted him off the bed, guiding him toward the bathroom.

With patience and gentle coaxing, you managed to shower him with warm water, wash away the remnants of the night, and dry him off. By the time you were done, Chan looked peaceful, dressed in clean clothes, and already half-asleep. You laid him gently on your bed, now fresh with newly changed sheets.

Sliding in beside him, you couldn’t resist wrapping your arms around his resting form. His familiar strawberry-like scent lingered, soothing you as you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck.

Contentment swelled in your chest. Tomorrow, you would ask him out on an official date. For now, though, holding him close was more than enough.

bonus:

02:23 a.m.

hannie hyung🐰: so... how did it go? did you get cheol’s favourite junior?

hannie hyung🐰: judging from your lack of response, i guess you got what you want. i really need that strawberry perfume back, you know. besides, if he smells it too often he might get really, like really addicted to it.

hannie hyung🐰: and bononie just cleared out the stash of photos in your dorm, you can bring him back any time.

hannie hyung🐰: we didn't throw it away though, it's at shua's.

hannie hyung🐰: and text me back when you're awake. i can't believe i had to kneel down to you in public, you little freak. do we really have to go all out to that extend?

hannie hyung🐰: hyung loves you, anyway.

© yiichan, 2024 origin of divider

[scarluna]

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI

Chapters: 7 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

A/N: Enjoy! Happy holidays! x | Cover PSD by queend3lrey on deviantart.

ACT VII.

I sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath me, a warm cup of chamomile tea cradled in my hands. The steam swirled lazily upward, its warmth brushing against my face, but it did little to deafen the icy unease settled deep in my chest. The living room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen, and the dim light of the lamp cast long shadows on the walls.

I tried to focus on the comfort of the moment—the familiar scent of tea, the way the soft blanket draped over my shoulders—but my thoughts were too loud. They dragged me back to earlier in the day, to the moment everything shifted.

I had come home tired, the weight of the day pressing heavily on my shoulders. Everything that had happened in the last two days has mentally drained me. First it was Tina's death, then Jungkook's captiveness by the police. My mind was a mess and I could barely function, let alone focus on my work daily tasks. All I wanted was to sink into my comfy bed with Hades by my side, maybe order takeout, and forget the world existed for a while.

But the moment I opened the door, my breath caught in my throat.

My apartment was wrecked.

Drawers had been yanked out and emptied onto the floor. Books and papers were strewn everywhere, cushions slashed open, their stuffing spilling out like entrails. Even my little plant by the window lay tipped over, its soil scattered across the hardwood floor.

My heart raced as I stepped inside, each careful footfall crunching against the debris of my once-safe haven. The smell of something sharp and chemical lingered in the air, making me feel nauseous.

And then it hit me. This wasn’t random. This wasn’t a burglary.

I had barely processed the thought when a new fear gripped me. “Hades?” My voice trembled as I called out. “Hades, where are you?”

The silence was deafening.

Frantically, I searched the apartment, stepping over shattered glass and overturned furniture. “Hades!” I shouted, my voice rising in panic. My chest tightened as I realized he wasn’t there. The mess suddenly felt suffocating, the walls closing in on me. I had watched enough scary movies to know that even the innocent animals were taken or worse, killed. I felt my blood bumping in my ears as my breath hitched. I squeezed my bag, looking around as if the world around me was squeezing. Tears pricked at my eyes, and I was on the verge of collapse when a knock at the door startled me.

I swung it open to find my neighbor, Mrs.Cordelia, the kind woman who lived two doors down, holding Hades in her arms. Relief washed over me like a wave as I saw his familiar face, his tail wagging furiously.

“I found him wandering in the hallway,” she said gently, handing him over. “He looked scared, poor thing. Are you alright? Your place…" her green eyes shifted over the mess behind me, her face immediately changed into one of concern, "Oh my, dear! It looks like someone broke in!” She exclaimed, then glanced at me. "Do you want to call the police?"

Clutching Hades to my chest, I began sobbing quietly. His small wet nose brushed over my cheek and warm licks licked off the tears that streamed down my face. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Thank you so much.”  My voice was shaking as I held him. He was the most important to me and I'd be lost if something happened to Hades. I swallowed shakily, finally processing Mrs.Cordelia's question.  "N-no need, ma'am. Uh, I will deal with the mess here." Partly, I was afraid of calling the police, they wouldn't do much and from what I could see, the bulglar did not left any tracks behind them. It'd be a lost cause.

She hesitated, her concern evident. “If you need help, or if you want me to stay for a bit, just let me know. You shouldn’t be alone after something like this.”

I managed a small, grateful smile. “I’ll be okay. Really, thank you again.”

As the door clicked shut behind her, I sank to the floor, holding Hades tightly. The familiar weight of him on my lap grounded me, but my mind was racing. Whoever had broken in was searching for something, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what.

Tina’s journal.

My eyes flicked to my bag whom I had just dropped on the ground seconds ago, this was where I had hidden it and it was still untouched thankfully. They hadn’t found it—yet. But I knew this was far from over. I realized the danger I was in, yet my pride refused to give up and seek help from the police.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. My apartment wasn’t safe anymore, and Hades wasn’t safe either. This wasn’t just a robbery—it was a message.

And I needed to figure out what came next.

The faint scent of lavender from the fabric softened the tension thrumming through my body, but my mind was still racing. Hades lay at my feet, his head resting on his paws as if he could sense I needed his calming presence.

The muffled sound of running water stopped, and a few moments later, Rya emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair tied up in a towel and an oversized hoodie falling just above her knees. She carried a casual ease, but I could see the worry etched in her features as she walked over and plopped down onto the couch beside me.

“You okay?” she asked, folding her legs underneath her and leaning her head against the couch’s backrest. “I mean, as okay as you can be after… everything?”

I exhaled slowly, trying to piece together an answer that didn’t feel like a lie. “I don’t know. It’s still sinking in, I guess.”

She nodded, her expression softening. “I can’t believe someone actually broke in. You must have been terrified.”

“Terrified doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “The apartment was a complete mess. And Hades—when I couldn’t find him, I thought…” I swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence.

Rya reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my knee. “But he’s safe now, and so are you. That’s what matters.”

I gave her a small nod, though the tightness in my chest remained. “Thank you, Rya. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t picked up my call.”

Her lips quirked into a small, empathetic smile. “Of course, Y/N. What are friends for? You can stay here as long as you need.”

For the first time that night, I let out a small laugh, though it came out more like a sigh. “You sure you’re not going to regret having me and a very anxious dog invade your space?”

She grinned. “Are you kidding? Hades is the least of my worries. He’s adorable. You, on the other hand, might be a little high-maintenance.”

I rolled my eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “I promise not to hog the couch or eat all your snacks.”

“Good, because I don’t share my ice cream,” she teased, then her tone grew serious. “But really, Y/N, do you have any idea who could’ve done this? Why someone would target you?”

I hesitated, my hands tightening around the edge of the blanket. “I… I think it’s because of the journal.”

Rya’s eyebrows shot up. “Tina’s journal? You think this has something to do with that?”

I nodded, my stomach twisting as I thought about it. “It has to be. Whoever broke in was looking for something specific. They didn’t even take my laptop or jewelry. They tore through the place like they were searching for something hidden.”

Her expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Y/N, if someone’s after that journal, it’s not safe for you to keep it. You need to tell someone—maybe the police or…”

“Or who, Rya?” I interjected, my voice rising. “It’s not like I can waltz into the station and hand it over without explaining where I got it. And that’ll lead to questions I don’t have answers to.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Okay, fair point. But you can’t just sit on this thing like it’s some kind of secret treasure. Whoever broke in isn’t going to stop because they didn’t find it the first time.”

“I know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I know.”

Silence stretched between us, the weight of the situation pressing down like a heavy fog. Hades let out a small whine, breaking the tension as he nudged my leg with his nose.

Rya watched him for a moment, her expression softening. “We’ll figure this out, okay? You’re not alone in this.”

Her words carried a warmth that made my throat tighten. “Thanks, Rya. I don’t think I’ve said it enough, but… I really appreciate you.”

She waved me off with a smile. “Don’t get all mushy on me now. I’d do the same thing for Hades.”

I laughed, the sound lighter this time, and for a moment, the weight of the world didn’t feel so suffocating.

But as the night deepened and Rya retreated to her bedroom, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Whoever had broken into my apartment wasn’t going to give up easily. And I needed to figure out what Tina’s journal was hiding—before it was too late.

-

The next morning came far too soon. My eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep, and my body ached from tossing and turning all night. Every time I closed my eyes, the memory of my ransacked apartment replayed in vivid detail. The thought of someone invading my space left a lingering sense of unease that refused to dissipate.

Rya, ever the early riser, had already made us coffee by the time I emerged from the spare bedroom. She offered me a tired smile, her damp hair falling in waves around her shoulders.

“You look like you didn’t sleep a wink,” she said, handing me a mug.

“Because I didn’t,” I muttered, taking a sip and savoring the bitter warmth. “I kept thinking about what happened. And then I started worrying about it happening to you.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Please. I’m not the one carrying a target on my back right now. If they want to mess with me, they’ll regret it.” Her words were light, but I caught the edge of concern in her tone.

We left her apartment together, stepping into the chilly morning air. The ride to work was quiet, but my mind wasn’t. Every shadow, every person walking by, felt like a threat. By the time we arrived at the office, my nerves were stretched thin.

Hoseok greeted us with his usual sunny smile, but his expression quickly shifted to concern as he noticed my face.

“Whoa, what happened?” he asked, standing from his desk.

Rya stepped in, her voice quiet. “Someone broke into Y/N’s apartment last night. She stayed with me.”

Hoseok’s brows furrowed, and he glanced at me. “Are you okay? Did they take anything?”

I shook my head, sighing. “They weren’t there to steal. It was more like they were searching for something. They trashed the place, but nothing’s missing.”

His frown deepened. “You think it’s connected to Tina’s journal?” I frowned and turned around toward Rya. "You told him?!" Her face changed into one of shock and then regret, "Sorry, Y/N, I accidentally blurted it out to him last night on the phone." "You know that the more people know about this, the more in danger you all become." I snapped but regretted it, Rya was a good person with a kind heart, but I definitely was scared for Hoseok and her now.

Before we could say more, a voice chimed in from behind us.

“Someone broke in your apartment last night?”

I turned to see Yoongi leaning casually against the edge of his desk, his dark eyes sharp with something I couldn't recognize. Was it concern?Annoyance? I hadn’t even noticed him nearby.

“None of your business." I muttered, turning around to look at Hoseok who had his eyebrows raised. I heard footsteps behind me until I felt warmth all over my entire back. He was standing there, wasn't he? "This was the same night where I drove you back to your place, wasn't it?" he muttered in a flat tone. My heart raced, I could catch a scent off his cologne.  "Stop asking me questions, this does not concern you." "The hell it fucking does." his voice became raspy and deep. Rya kept glancing at me and Yoongi who stood behind me. I didn't really want to turn around. Deep annoyed sigh escaped my lips as I turned around to face him finally. "No, it does not. Just. . . just be focused on getting our Boss out of jail, please?" He kept staring at me and didn't even reply to my plead. Yoongi's face remained blank, hands crossed against his chest. I could see his jaw locking tightly.  "How about you do not tell me what to fucking do? I told you to be careful, didn't I? You will be staying at my place from now on. I can keep an eye on you and on that damn journal you got yourself involved with." "Yoongi," I spoke lowly, "I am NOT staying with you." He took a step forward, towered over me, his face was close to mine and I felt my cheeks heaten.  "Oh yes you are. Staying with Rya puts her in danger too. I, on the other hand, know how to protect myself and protect you from this bullshit you got into. So don't even dare to fight with me right now." I exhaled sharply through my nose but then I remembered I was at the office, Hoseok and Rya were watching us with wide eyes, some people passing by also kept staring at us. My eyes closed for a moment as I tried to calm the rage bubbling deep inside of me, before I replied. "Fine." I spoke lowly, only to get him off my back. "I will stay with you. Happy?" I gritted my teeth and turned to glance at Hoseok and Rya. "Come on, let's grab coffee at the cafeteria." "S-sure," both of them grabbed my hands and dragged me down the hall as Yoongi stood there, staring at us until we disappeared around the corner. "Y/N, what the hell was that?" Rya asked hushedly. "What do you mean?" "There is a LOT sexual tension between you two." Hoseok added in with a smug smirk on his face. I scowled at him. "The fuck you are on about. He is an ass and he thinks that after he is a rich son of a conglomerate he gets to treat people like properties. I despise him." "Yet you agreed to stay with him?" Rya muttered, teasing me. "I only did that to get him off my back. He would be forgetting about it by the end of the day." I could hear them both giggle as we walked into the cafeteria. Did they not believe me? Gosh, those two annoyed the hell out of me sometimes.

-

The meeting room was filled with tension, the air thick with unspoken words. I sat at the long conference table, my hands resting on the surface, fingers drumming nervously against the polished wood. To my right was Rya, who seemed deep in thought, her eyes flickering between the others in the room. Across from me sat Hoseok, his usual carefree demeanor nowhere to be found, replaced by a cool, determined expression.

And then there was Gina—her eyes hard, and posture stiff. She was the one who had invited Hoseok to that masquerade ball, only to be turned down cold. I could almost feel her resentment lingering in the air, even though the others were too polite to address it directly.

The room fell silent as Yoongi walked into the conference room, his usual calm but imposing presence commanding attention. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“As you all know, Jungkook’s departure leaves us with a gap in leadership,” Yoongi began, his voice steady but with an edge of authority. “Until he returns, I will be taking over the company on a temporary basis. But more importantly, we need to address the immediate future of the team."

My heart skipped a beat. The room was tense, everyone waiting for what would come next.

Yoongi’s gaze shifted to Hoseok. “Hoseok," he said, his tone not giving anything away, "you will be stepping up as the new direct manager for the team.”

A gasp escaped Gina's lips, her eyes wide in shock. Rya shifted slightly, her gaze darting between Yoongi and Hoseok. I held my breath. Hoseok didn’t flinch, though. He nodded, his usual warmth replaced by a seriousness I wasn’t used to seeing from him.

“I understand,” Hoseok replied, his voice steady, though there was a flicker of something deeper behind his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind—this wasn’t just about Tina’s death, it was about filling a role that many had doubted he could handle. The weight of responsibility suddenly seemed to settle over him, but there was no doubt he would rise to the challenge. Still, I knew he didn’t expect it to be this soon.

Gina crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing. "So, Hoseok, you’ll just… step into Tina’s shoes?" she asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

Yoongi’s eyes flickered to her, his expression unreadable. "It's not a choice, Gina," he said quietly, "it's what's needed. And no need for worry, I have discussed this with Jungkook already."

There was a long pause. The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence almost unbearable. I wanted to speak, to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come. I knew what this meant for all of us—for Hoseok especially—but the uncertainty of the future weighed heavy on my chest.

“I’ll take it on,” Hoseok said after a moment, standing from his chair. His voice was firm now, as if the decision had been made in his heart, and he was ready to carry the burden.

I looked at him, trying to read his expression, but he was already focused on the task at hand. I couldn’t help but admire his resolve, even though I knew this would be a difficult road ahead. As the room buzzed with quiet murmurs and Yoongi began laying out the next steps, my thoughts drifted.

I couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen next. The meeting continued with a few new clients joining in, Yoongi was oddly prepared and I couldn't help but wonder if Jungkook had given him all the information. My mind drifted to my Boss again. I could imagine him sitting in his cell, awaiting for a miracle to happen. My heart raced. There has to be something that proves his innocence. Anything. . .

Yoongi's voice brought me back to reality.

"You gonna keep sitting there, Y/N?" he muttered, his eyes boring into mine. I blinked a few times only to realize that the room was now empty. Yoongi and I were the only ones left. Fuck. Soft sigh escaped my lips as I rose up and collected my papers without paying much mind to him. 

"Hey, talk to me." I heard his footsteps approaching and I froze. Slowly turning around, our eyes met. "You good?"

"Peachy. Move." I muttered, trying to pass by him, yet a grip on my arm stopped me. I swallowed thickly as I felt his fingers curl around my elbow. 

"Can you tell me what the fuck is going on? Is it because I asked you to stay with me?" .  "Why does everything have to be about you, Yoongi? The situation itself is disasterous," I shot at him, pulling my hand away. "I don't trust you, and I won't be staying with you. I don't feel comfortable being around you, every second I look at your face I want to look away and disappear," I blurted out, stepping toward him. In my rage, I didn't care that we were close. 

"You are too dumb to even realize the situation," he spoke out.

"Fuck off." I spoke out, pushing him and walking out of the office. I was blushing and fuming at the same time. That idiot. He thought he was the Boss now and everyone would bow at his fucking feet. I reached my desk and slammed the papers I held on it before I sat down and buried my face in my hands, clearly frustrated.

-

The workday finally came to a close, the tension still lingering in the air. I didn’t realize how much I’d been holding my breath until I stepped out of the meeting room, the weight of the new responsibilities hanging over Hoseok, and over all of us, like a storm cloud that refused to dissipate. I was exhausted, but the day wasn’t over yet.

Rya and I walked back to her place in silence, the streets unusually quiet as we made our way through the city. The only sounds were our footsteps and the occasional hum of passing cars. I could feel the heaviness of what was to come—Tina’s funeral was tomorrow and the cruel reality of her death still hard to grasp.

Rya had been distant, her mind clearly elsewhere, but when we reached her apartment, she greeted me with the same quiet, welcoming smile she always had. I let myself in, and immediately, Hades came bounding toward me, his large, fluffy form jumping up to greet me. I couldn’t help but smile as I leaned down to scratch behind his ears, the simple act of petting him somehow grounding me in the chaos.

“We’ll get through tomorrow,” Rya said, her voice soft as she shut the door behind us. "It’s hard, I know. But it’s over now."

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if I was agreeing with her or just trying to convince myself. Tina had been a complicated figure in my life, a bully and a tormentor, but now—now she was gone. And that meant something. What exactly? I wasn’t sure.

The conversation died as Rya and I settled into the couch. Rya made tea, and I pulled out Tina's worn journal I kept hidden in my bag. Tina's death was still too fresh, and I wasn’t sure how to process it yet.

Before I could open the journal, there was a knock at the door. It was gentle, but I could tell it was someone who had a reason to be there. I stood up slowly, my gaze flicking to Rya. She raised an eyebrow and shrugged. I slowly opened the door and my eyes met with Hoseok's.

“Thought you two could use some company,” he said, standing in the doorway with a hesitant smile. He was in his usual casual wear—jeans and a hoodie—though there was a solemnity in his eyes that wasn’t usually there. Hades barked, running over to him, and Hoseok knelt down to pet him, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“Come on in,” Rya said, stepping aside. “You’re always welcome here.”

Hoseok nodded and stepped inside, taking a seat next to me on the couch. He seemed out of place, as if his mind was miles away, but his presence was comforting. The weight of the day seemed to lift a little with him there, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else.

We didn’t talk about the company or the changes Hoseok would face. Instead, we hung out like we always did. Rya made more tea, and we spent the next hour just talking—about life, about the things that made us laugh, about whatever came to mind. I caught myself smiling more than I had all day, my body relaxing as the warmth of the room filled me.

But then something caught Rya’s attention. She had been glancing out the window, her expression suddenly hardening as she stared into the night. I followed her gaze, and my heart skipped a beat.

Three men in black suits were standing just outside the building, pacing slowly around the entrance. They looked like they were waiting for something—or someone. I felt a chill run down my spine. There was something unnerving about their presence, their movements almost deliberate.

“What is it?” I asked quietly, already feeling the tension rising in my chest.

Rya didn’t answer immediately. She just kept watching them. Then, in a quiet voice, she muttered, “They don’t look good.”

I stood up, moving toward the window with her. The men weren’t doing anything threatening, but their presence felt off—like they were watching, waiting for something. The hair on the back of my neck stood on. I kept staring until one of the men glanced up and our eyes met. I took a few steps back. They looked like the damn mafia because I noticed that each one of them had tattoo on the back of their necks. "Should we call the police?" Hoseok asked. "I believe they are here to guard more than harm us." I muttered but I was unsure.  "I am gonna go and ask them who sent them." Hoseok stood up and before me and Rya could protest, he was out of the room. We turned around and waited until we saw Hoseok approach the three men. They stood taller than him which was quite intimidating from up here. Hoseok's face changed into pure surprise as they conversed back with him. Five minutes passed and Hoseok finally headed back into the building. Me and Rya looked at each other, then at Hoseok who just walked in. "What happened. Who were those people?" I asked, approaching him slowly.  "Yoongi sent them. They are here to guard."  "What?" I muttered and turned around to stare back at their figures. Yoongi sent them? So he was indeed involved in the mafia. Now that I think about it, after our little bicker at the meeting room I didn't hear much from him nor he approached me after that. So this was his plan? To send his gorillas to watch over us? Rya and Hoseok stared at me as I was clearly deep lost in thoughts. "I guess Yoongi does have a heart after all," Hoseok commented before flopping back on the couch as Hades jumped in his lap. I turned around to give him a glance, then back at Rya who shrugged her shoulders and joined Hoseok.  -

The rain was unrelenting, a steady rhythm against my umbrella that matched the dull ache in my chest. Everything felt muted, from the gray sky to the whispers of the wind through the trees. The priest’s voice carried over the gathering, solemn and heavy with meaning, but I couldn’t focus on the words. My mind wandered, my gaze fixed on the dark casket lowered into the ground. Tina’s family stood closest, their grief raw and exposed, a mirror to the ache none of us dared to show so openly.

I felt numb. Standing there, surrounded by my colleagues, I couldn't shake the surreal feeling that none of this was real. Tina was gone. She was really gone. The thought made my stomach churn, and my grip on the umbrella tightened. My mind drifted to the last time I’d seen her, how she tried to humiliate me in front of all those people, feeling so prideful of herself... Now, those moments were nothing but memories, fading with each passing second. I did not hold a grudge against her however, I had forgiven her already and was ready to move on with my next step in life. But the mere thought that death could take anyone, anytime made me question if I was actually living my life to the fullest.

The rain picked up, and a gust of wind threatened to flip my umbrella. I didn’t care. My thoughts were a storm of their own, louder than the priest’s speech, louder than the sobs around me. Why did it have to be her? Why did life have to be so cruel?

A presence nearby pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I felt it before I saw it—warm, steady, and familiar in a way that startled me. Turning my head slightly, my eyes fell on him. Yoongi.

He stood a step behind me, an umbrella of his own shielding him from the rain, his dark suit blending into the dreary backdrop. His expression was unreadable, but when our eyes met, he spared me the briefest glance. It wasn’t much—just a flicker of acknowledgment—but it felt like an anchor, grounding me when I was moments away from being swept away by my thoughts.

For a moment, I wanted to say something, but the words tangled in my throat. Instead, I turned back toward the priest, the weight of Yoongi’s presence beside me somehow comforting. I didn’t feel so alone anymore.

The funeral ended with the soft murmurs of condolences and the muffled shuffle of footsteps on wet ground. People began to disperse, their umbrellas bobbing away in the gray mist. I stood still for a moment, watching Tina’s family linger by the grave, their grief a tangible weight that pressed on everyone who passed. I felt a pang of guilt as I turned away—I couldn’t bear to stay any longer.

Hoseok and Rya were waiting for me by the cemetery gates, their faces pale and drawn.

“Are you coming with us now?” Rya asked softly, her voice hoarse from crying. She gave me a weak, hopeful smile, her hand resting lightly on my arm.

I hesitated. “I think I should stop by my apartment first,” I said, trying to sound steadier than I felt. “Grab some things before I come over. I won’t be long.”

Hoseok looked concerned, his brows knitting together. “Are you sure you want to go alone? We can come with you.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “I’ll be fine. Really.”

They exchanged a glance but didn’t push further. “Alright,” Rya said gently. “Just... don’t take too long. We’ll wait for you.”

I nodded, thanking them before turning toward the parking lot. The rain had eased slightly, but the cold still clung to the air, making every step feel heavier. As I neared one of the parked cabs, I heard footsteps behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Yoongi approaching, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, his expression calm but unreadable.

“Yoongi?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. “What are you doing?”

He stopped a few steps away, tilting his head slightly as if the answer was obvious. “You’re heading to your apartment, right?” he said. “I’ll drive you.”

I blinked at him. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he replied simply. “But I want to. And I’ll go in with you. It’s late, and you shouldn’t be there alone.”

There was something about his tone—firm yet unassuming—that made it hard to argue. A part of me wanted to refuse, to insist that I didn’t need anyone’s help, but the exhaustion weighing me down won out.

“Okay,” I said quietly. “Thanks.”

He gave a small nod, motioning toward his car parked nearby. The drive to my apartment was quiet, the silence between us broken only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of tires splashing through puddles. I stared out the window, my mind swirling with a mix of emotions I couldn’t untangle. Yoongi didn’t press for conversation, and for that, I was grateful.

When we arrived, he parked by the curb and followed me up to my apartment. The air inside felt cold and stale, a sharp contrast to the warmth it used to hold. Everything was exactly as I’d left it, but it felt different now—lonelier.

“I’ll just be a minute,” I said, stepping inside and flicking on the lights. Yoongi lingered near the door, his sharp eyes scanning the space.

“Take your time,” he said, leaning against the wall, his presence calm and steady.

I moved through the apartment, grabbing the essentials—a change of clothes, my toothbrush, my charger. But as I packed, the weight of everything began to creep back in. 

I stopped in the middle of the room, gripping the edge of the counter as my chest tightened. Yoongi must have noticed because, before I could process it, he was standing beside me, his voice soft but firm.

“You don’t have to hold it together all the time,” he said.

His words broke something in me, and I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back spilling over. I expected him to say more or simply let me be by leaving the room, but he didn’t. Instead, he stayed quiet, a solid presence beside me as I let the grief wash over me in waves.

The tears came fast, hot, and relentless, pouring out in a way I hadn’t let myself feel since it all happened. I tried to stifle the sobs, to keep it together, but the weight of everything—Tina’s empty desk, the funeral—broke through whatever fragile composure I had left. My shoulders shook as I leaned heavily on the counter, my hands gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping me upright.

For a moment, Yoongi didn’t say anything. The silence between us stretched, filled only by the sound of my uneven breathing and the rain still drizzling outside. I wondered if he was regretting coming with me, if he was silently willing this moment to end. But then, I felt him move closer.

“I’m... not good at this,” he admitted, his voice low and hesitant, almost like he was speaking to himself. “But... you don’t have to do this alone.”

The words were simple, awkward even, but they struck something deep within me. I turned my head slightly, just enough to see him standing there, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, his brows drawn together in concern. His usual calm demeanor was replaced with something softer, something almost unsure.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out, his hand hovering near my shoulder as if he wasn’t sure whether to touch me or not. Eventually, he settled on a light, tentative pat, like he was testing the waters. It was almost laughable in its awkwardness, but somehow, it made me cry harder.

“Hey,” he said quickly, his voice rising just a little. “It’s okay. I mean, not okay—none of this is—but... you’re allowed to cry.” His hand stayed there, a steady, grounding weight on my shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

There was something so painfully honest about the way he spoke, like he was trying so hard to say the right thing even if he didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t polished or rehearsed, but it was real, and that was enough.

“I just—” My voice cracked as I tried to speak. “She was a shitty person, but she didn’t deserve this.”

“I know,” he said softly, his tone steady now. “None of this makes sense. And it’s not fair. But...” He paused, searching for the right words. “It already happened and we must move on. You have to take care of yourself and what you do. Of your own future....”

I nodded, my tears slowing but still spilling over. His hand left my shoulder briefly, and I thought maybe he was stepping back, giving me space. Instead, he grabbed a tissue from a box on the counter and handed it to me, holding it out like it was some kind of peace offering.

“Here,” he said, his voice gruff. “You’re, uh... kind of a mess.”

Despite everything, I let out a choked laugh, taking the tissue and wiping at my face. “Thanks,” I muttered, my voice still shaky. “For stating the obvious.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

The heaviness in my chest hadn’t disappeared, but it didn’t feel quite as suffocating anymore. Yoongi didn’t fill the silence with empty platitudes or promises he couldn’t keep. He just stood there, awkward and quiet and real, and somehow, that was exactly what I needed.

-

As we stepped out of my apartment, the rain had lightened to a soft drizzle. Yoongi walked beside me, his pace measured, as if he wasn’t in a rush to leave. I wasn’t either, but I didn’t say anything. The lingering weight of my tears had left me feeling raw, but lighter somehow, as if letting it all out had taken a small part of the burden with it.

We got into his car, and I buckled my seatbelt, glancing at him as he started the engine. The drive to Rya’s place was quiet at first, the steady hum of the heater filling the space. My thoughts swirled, still caught in the strange, bittersweet moment we’d just shared, but something else tugged at the back of my mind.

I turned to look at him, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows across his face. “Yoongi,” I started, my voice breaking the silence.

“Hm?” he responded, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

“The bodyguards.” My tone was even, but there was a pointed edge to it. “Why?”

For a second, his hands tightened on the wheel, a flicker of something crossing his face—surprise? Annoyance? It was hard to tell.

He shrugged, the motion nonchalant. “You figured that out, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “They’ve been following me everywhere.”

“Good,” he replied without missing a beat, his voice calm but resolute. “That’s the point.”

I stared at him, waiting for an explanation, but he didn’t offer one. “Why?” I pressed. “Why did you send them? And don’t say it’s because you’re just being ‘nice.’”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk, but it faded quickly. “You didn’t agree to stay with me,” he said simply, glancing at me briefly before focusing back on the road. “I couldn’t just leave you to deal with everything alone. You’re... you’re too stubborn for your own good.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “So your solution was to have me followed?”

“It’s not following,” he corrected, his tone almost teasing. “It’s protecting. There’s a difference.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need bodyguards, Yoongi. I’m fine.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and the air grew heavier with the weight of the conversation. Finally, he sighed, his voice quieter this time. “You might think you’re fine, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone looking out for you. Especially now.”

There was something in his tone—something softer, almost vulnerable—that caught me off guard. I opened my mouth to argue, but the words got stuck. Instead, I turned to look out the window, the city lights blurring as we passed them.

“I don’t know whether to be mad at you or grateful,” I muttered.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and surprisingly comforting. “Why not both? Seems fair.”

Despite myself, I smiled a little, shaking my head. Typical Yoongi. Always doing things his way, even if it meant annoying me in the process.

The rest of the drive passed quietly, and when we pulled up to Rya’s apartment, he turned off the engine but didn’t make any move to get out immediately.

“Thanks,” I said softly, my hand resting on the door handle. “For the ride. And for... everything else.”

He gave me a small nod, his expression unreadable. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

I lingered for a moment before stepping out of the car, the rain now just a faint mist against my skin. As I walked toward the building, I glanced back briefly to see him watching me from the car, his face shadowed but his presence as steady as ever.

Rya’s apartment was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the dreary night outside. The smell of freshly brewed tea wafted through the air as I stepped inside, and the sight of Hoseok and Rya’s familiar faces brought a strange mix of comfort and unease. They greeted me with soft smiles, though their eyes still held traces of the sorrow that lingered from the funeral.

“Hey,” Rya said gently, pulling me into a hug. “I’m glad you’re back, but it took you a while.”

She was referring to me being late. The images of me crying and Yoongi trying to comfort be flooded my mind and a fait blush crept across my cheeks but I decided to not say anything else.  "I had to figure out what to bring." I muttered a lame excuse.

Hoseok appeared behind her, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. “You doing okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“As okay as I can be,” I admitted, forcing a faint smile.

“Well, you’re not alone,” he said, giving my shoulder a reassuring pat. “We’re here.”

The apartment felt cozy, with blankets draped over the couch and soft lighting from a few lamps scattered around the room. It was exactly the kind of space I needed—a temporary refuge from the chaos of my own life.

Rya ushered me into the kitchen, insisting I have some tea before settling in. I obliged, the warmth of the mug grounding me as we sat and talked about nothing in particular. Hoseok tried to lighten the mood with his usual humor, and while it didn’t completely lift the heaviness, it was enough to make me feel a little more human.

As the night wore on, the apartment grew quieter. Hoseok eventually left, giving me and Rya some space, and Rya retired to her room shortly after, leaving me alone with Hades in the living room. The small, neatly arranged space was calming, but my mind refused to quiet. I sat on the couch, staring at my bag where the journal was tucked away.

I told myself I wasn’t going to look at it tonight. I needed rest. But the pull of it was too strong, the questions it raised too loud to ignore. With a sigh, I reached into my bag and pulled it out, the leather cover worn and familiar under my fingers.

Flipping through the pages felt almost intrusive, even though I’d done it before. My eyes skimmed over the familiar handwriting, notes scrawled in a hurried script that hinted at Tina’s urgency. Names, places, fragments of thoughts—it was all there, a chaotic puzzle waiting to be solved.

And then, my breath hitched.

My eyes landed on a sentence, circled twice in a way that made it stand out among the cluttered text.

K told me everything will be okay. The deal would be closed and I don't need to worry, but why do I feel so uneasy as I roam at my apartment during the night? Almost as if someone's watching me.

I stared at it, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't figure out who that man with the letter K was. Soft sigh escaped my lips as I shook my head and closed the journal with a soft thud before putting it back in my bag and closing it securely.  -

I was sitting at my desk, the office buzzing around me with the usual chatter and the clinking of keyboards, trying to focus on the emails piling up. The weight of Tina’s journal still hung heavily on my mind, especially after the discovery last night. The letter 'K” was like a puzzle piece lodged somewhere deep in my brain, but it didn’t fit. Not yet.

My phone buzzed on my desk, breaking my thoughts. I glanced down at the screen and saw my parents’ name flash across it.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. It had been a while since I’d heard from them, and though it was never a bad thing, it felt like I had too many loose ends of my own to deal with. Still, I swiped to answer.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad.”

“Y/N!” my mother’s voice came through. “We heard about your colleague's passing. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Mom,” I said, trying to keep the exhaustion out of my voice. “Just... busy with work." There was a silence to the other side of the line, I could feel that my answer wasn't satisfactory for them nor did they believe me. "Sweetheart, are you sure you are okay?" I wasn't. Not really. My apartment was trashed, I am staying at a friend's place for the time being and I hold a journal that has a target on my back. No, I am not okay. But I wasn't going to tell them all of this. They'd flip and arrive with the first flight here and I did not want their appearance to complicate things and potentially put a target on their backs too.

“Yes, Mom. Just... work has it's toll on me." "Have you been taking care of yourself? Eating enough and sleeping enough?" I rolled my eyes, leaning back on my chair as I rubbed my temple. "Yes, Mom." "Good, good. So, how's Taehyung?"

"He is fine, we went out during the weekend and spent some quality time together” "Oh, that's lovely. You and him should visit us for the holidays!"  "I am unsure, work here is a killer and I need to finish some project before New Year's Eve." I lied. "I am hoping you'd visit us, you know. It's been a year since we've seen you." I swallowed thickly. "Well, when I get the chance, I will visit." I heard rustling from the other side of the line, "Remember when you were a kid and Taehyung used to steal your dolly toy? It was hilarious, you'd throw whatever you find at him." I heard my dad chuckle and my mom did the same too. "Yeah, I remember." "You were such a feisty child back then, I swear. You also used to have trouble saying Taehyung’s name,” my dad continued. “So you’d always call him ‘Kim.’ You couldn’t quite say his full name, and I think you just got used to calling him that.”

I froze, the cup of coffee in my hand going still. "Wait, what?" "Silly girl, you don't remember it? Taehyung liked it so much that everyone started calling him Kim."

The memory hit me like a rush of cold water. Was he possibly the one Tina referred as K in her journal. I felt my breath hitch. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What if it was?!

I nodded absently, my mind racing. “Yeah. Mom, Dad, something came up, I’ll talk to you later, okay? Love you.”

Before they could say anything more, I hung up, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic storm. Kim. The letter "K." That name had been haunting me for days. The man behind the cryptic letter, the one who had been tied to Tina’s journal—the “K” who had promised everything would be okay...

My hands were shaking slightly as I grabbed Tina’s journal from my bag, flipping through the pages until I landed on the sentence I had found last night. My heart pounded as I read the words again, my eyes scanning the haunting sentence:

K told me everything will be okay. The deal would be closed and I don't need to worry, but why do I feel so uneasy as I roam at my apartment during the night? Almost as if someone's watching me.

Taehyung.

The unease that had crawled through Tina’s words—the feeling of being watched—was too similar to what I had experienced, too unsettling to ignore. Had Tina been trying to warn me? Was she afraid of him?

No, this couldn't be true. There was no way Taehyung would be involved with Tina's murder. He was a kind gracing soul, his eyes sparkled when he smiles and he has the brightest energy. I refused to believe this. Fuck. I was so frustrated that I wanted to cry. Jungkook was rotting at the police station and I felt my hands were tied. -

A week had passed since the call with my parents, and the chaos surrounding Tina's death had only escalated. The media was in full frenzy, throwing every possible theory into the spotlight. They were relentless, accusing Jungkook, linking his name to the case, and bombarding every source with questions. The headlines screamed: Jungkook: The Man Behind Tina's Murder? Did Jungkook Have a Motive? Tina’s Death: The Dark Truth Behind the Hidden Relationship. It felt like the world was spinning out of control, the noise growing louder, and my head throbbed from the constant barrage of speculation.

I couldn’t bring myself to buy into the media's narrative, though. I knew Jungkook, and something about it didn’t sit right. The accusations seemed premature, reckless even. Still, I couldn’t ignore the mounting pressure to find some kind of answer. I was still in heavy denial that Taehyung was the man with the letter K which Tina referred to in her journal. Speaking of Tae, he tried to contact me a few times in the past week but I either ignored his calls or picked up to tell him I was busy. I didn't wish to talk to him right now.

After days of sifting through Tina’s journal and chasing after dead ends, I felt more lost than ever. There was no concrete evidence, no undeniable proof to tie anyone to Tina’s death. I’d met with the police a few times but nothing was helping. They’d brushed off my theories—rightfully so, in hindsight—leaving me to wonder if I was grasping at straws. I was on the edge of giving up, frustrated, exhausted, and feeling hopeless.

It was late in the afternoon when a small white envelope appeared at my office. No return address. No name. Just a plain piece of paper that seemed ordinary, yet I couldn't shake the unease that washed over me. I hesitated for a moment before opening it, wondering who would send me something anonymously.

Inside was a single photograph. My breath caught in my throat when I saw it.

The picture was grainy, clearly taken from a distance. It showed Tina standing in front of her apartment building, the night she was murdered. The time stamped at the bottom of the image was just moments before her estimated time of death. She was talking to someone. The man was standing close to her, but his face was obscured by a black umbrella, as if to shield himself from the rain.

I squinted at the image, my heart beating faster. But then, my eyes narrowed at something else. A dark scar on the man’s wrist. His hand was gripping the umbrella, and the scar was visible just below his sleeve—large, jagged, and unmistakable. It stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his arm. Everything else was shrouded in shadow. His face, his body—everything but that scar and the way his hand gripped the umbrella.

I felt my hands tremble as I turned the photograph over, hoping for any sort of clue written on the back. But there was nothing. No note. No further explanation.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

This wasn’t just any man. This was someone Tina had been with right before her death, someone she clearly knew. But who? And why was his face hidden? Why was there only a scar on his wrist to identify him?

The dark scar—it was familiar, somehow. I racked my brain, my thoughts racing. Where had I seen something like that before?

The answer hit me suddenly, like a flicker of a memory I’d buried. The scar on his wrist... it was so similar to the one I had seen on someone else. 

I stumbled back from my desk, gripping the edge as my head spun. 

I couldn’t waste time second-guessing. I needed to find out who this man was, and fast. I needed to know if the scar was really the key to unlocking everything. Could it be a coincidence? Or was it part of something far more dangerous?

I shoved the picture into my bag, heart pounding in my chest, a new sense of urgency coursing through me. Time was running out. The mystery was growing darker, and I was one step closer to something much bigger than I could have imagined.

I had to keep going. There was no turning back now.

My heart raced as I clutched the photo tightly in my bag, the urgency driving me forward. I had to get to Taehyung’s law firm—he had to know something. The scar on the man’s wrist... I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was the missing link, the connection that would tie everything together. I had no time to waste, not when the pieces were finally starting to fall into place.

I moved quickly through the city streets, the damp air clinging to my skin, the sounds of traffic and people filling the space around me. My mind was consumed with the photo, with the potential answers it held, but as I crossed the busy intersection, something felt off. My senses were heightened, like a tightrope walker balancing between instinct and logic.

I barely noticed the car speeding toward me until it was too late.

A sudden screech of tires, the blinding flash of headlights. My body tensed as I tried to step back, but it was too fast—too close. Everything happened in a blur. My heart skipped a beat. I felt the impact, the jolt of the car against my side, sending me crashing into the pavement.

Pain exploded through my body, sharp and overwhelming, but it was the darkness that came next that consumed me. A deep, suffocating blackness, pulling me in from all sides.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t think. The world around me disappeared, replaced by the weight of nothingness. My mind felt as though it had been ripped away from my body, trapped in a void that seemed endless.

I wanted to scream, wanted to fight, but there was nothing—just silence.

Everything faded away.

[newfallstrangeleaves]

Yandere in the Apocalypse Nightly visit

M!Yandere X F!reader. Warnings: Stalking, NSFW, masterbastion, dub-con, giving a hand-job while asleep. (Please tell me if I missed something) Summary: You have a yandere following you around in a end of the world. He sneaks into where you sleep and getts a little too bold and end up using your hand to get off.

The world we used to know has officially ended, survival has become dire as monsters lurk around every corner. But do you know what else lurks just around the corner? Your very own yandere!

Aaron, who has been following you and your group for some time now. Mostly to make sure that you are well taken care of. That you get enough food and that danger doesn't get too close to you. If he deems it necessary he will leave some food for you and he will take out undetected creatures so you never have to face them. All happening without your knowledge, but he is there, hiding in the shadows. 

He stays close just for the reason to see you, to hear you and sometimes if he is really lucky, feel you. 

It was late, way past midnight and the young boy that Aaron never seemed to remember the name of had just fallen asleep on watch duty. Aaron couldn't decide whether he disliked the boy for being so irresponsible or like him for giving him such a wonderful opportunity. 

The apartment that your group has decided to rest in is dusty and things scattered everywhere. Some of the windows have been left open or just chattered, either way it makes an easy entrance. 

Aaron climbs into what he thinks must have been someone's gamer room. In one corner stands the desk, trashed and broken and the floor has multiple crushed computer screens. He makes sure not to step on any of the plastic or the glass pieces, to make as little noise as possible. 

The rush he feels as he makes his way through the apartment. He is so close he can hear breathing and snores coming from just around the corner. He can practically feel his blood pumping through his veins. 

You and your group have all gathered in what used to be the living room. Dragged in mattresses and pillows, just anything that could make a fairly good sleeping situation. All of you knocked out on the floor or on the sofa. Over at the window sits the boy with his head resting on his hands softly snoring. 

But Aaron  couldn't really blame him for his recklessness. All of you have had a rough couple of days. Forced to leave the area you were in with no food or water. With more than just the monsters out there to fear, all of you have been lacking sleep. 

Aaron too has started to feel the exhaustion of the circumstances. But he can't sleep tonight. Not when the boy is sleeping on duty, anything could happen. And the extra adrenaline he feels sneaking in to see you is enough to keep him awake if only for now. 

He takes a few quiet and quick steps over a few legs to reach you. As he moves closer he can feel excitement bubble up in his chest, he will get to see you up close for once. Not from a bush, behind a recycling bin or up a tree. 

He stops right above your body, his towering over you cast a shadow in the moonlit night.  He stands there for a moment taking in the scene. You look so peaceful, the worry that has been glued to your face these couple of days is gone. For the moment at least.

He lays down, positioning himself in between you and a friend of yours. He lays on his side, prompting up his head on his elbow. You two are so close your noses are barely touching. He brings up a hand and gently strokes your cheek. Never has he felt anything so soft and when you sigh in your sleep it takes everything inside him not to make a sound or to grab hold of you, kiss you, take you with him…

But a part of him knows that you would fear, maybe even hate him, if he did and he can't handle that. It's better to stick to the plan, infiltrate the group and take them out one by one until it's only you two left. In a world like this murder is easy to cover up. 

All he has to do is wait for the right moment to swoop in. Save the day and make you fall just as hard in love with him as he has to you. 

But that might take some time. 

So tonight he allows his thumb to swipe over your lips. They are slightly parted and he can feel your soft breath. He wonders what they would feel like, what it would be like to kiss you. How he would hold on to you, hold you close. Then when your shirt rides up he will worm his way under your shirt and bra. Cup your boobs, he would be gentle, just to feel how warm and soft they are. 

What sounds would you make when he lets his hands wander? 

As the thoughts of you are tainting his mind he can feel something stir awake. He contemplates for a moment whether now is the right time to do something about it. But you look so cute and he has had a hard time lately. He deserves some relief. 

He removes his hand from your face and places it on top of his pants, he palms himself a few times through his jeans before he undoes them and pulls out his aching cock. He has gone far too long without time to touch himself and to do it now, in your presence, feels like heaven. 

He imagines how your soft hand would replace his, how you would move up and down his length…

He lays down on his back and takes a few ragged breaths as he can feel his cock throbbing. He looks over at you, deep asleep. Exhausted from the day. Not even a bomb would wake you. 

Perhaps it's the lust that is clouding his mind, or the excitement but tonight he feels bold. Everything has gone well so far. Why shouldn't he enjoy himself? 

So he carefully grabs your arm and pulls it closer to him. 

"Please baby. Just this once." He whispers as he wraps your limp hand around his length. He places his hand around yours, squeezing it in place. 

He bites down on his lower lip so hard he almost draws blood. All to make sure he stays quiet. His face is contorted in pain as if touching him would set his whole body on fire. 

Though he is leaking pre cum, it's not wet enough. So he brings one of his hands to his mouth and spits in his hand. Then he carefully rubs it in the palm of yours. He uses your hand to spread the saliva and the pre cum mixture all over his cock. 

He takes a grounding breath before he runs your hand up and down on his length. The pace is slow. Sweat is trickling down his brow as his hips move in sync with your pumping. It takes everything inside of him not to bust too quickly. He wants to savor this moment. He may not know when he will get the chance again. 

It's when you let out a faint sigh in your sleep he can't hold it back anymore. 

He once more bites down on his lip and swallows a loud moan as he cums. Positions his load on the floor tho he would have preferred elsewhere, cuming on you might raise suspicion when you wake up. 

“You don't know how much I love you and how much it hurts that you don't know that I am here. But I am.” He whispers. “You know, I keep telling myself that one day we will share a moment like this, but I can't wait. It takes so long. I hate seeing you with them and not me. Everyday I see you, I wish you would see me too.”

A snore and movement from the otherside in the room brings him back to reality. 

“I should go before anyone wakes up and notices I am here.” He tells you with a sigh. 

He fixes his pants and then moves your hand up to his mouth. Carefully he licks up the mess he made on you. Sucking your fingers one by one. You start to stir in your sleep. His licking must be tickling your palm and he smiles at your cute motions. 

Then he stands back up. Though he is feeling not entirely satisfied over the encounter, he is grateful for the time he got with you this time. It's just as much a reminder how you two are kept apart. He can already feel the jealousy he will have in the morning when one of these scums is the one to wake up by your side. 

He casts a last glance at your sleeping form. He whispers an almost inaudible “Soon” before he just as quietly as he came is gone again. 

Back down on the street he looks up at the window the boy sits at. He still hasn't moved. Aaron picks up a small rock and balances it in his hand before he throws it at the window.  The boy jolts awake at the sound and as Aaron walks away he shakes his head. 

"Bunch of lowlifes." He mutters before he disappears down an alley. 

[chillinglyadventurous]

Pissed Off

Thank you for the request, anon! As someone who is also pissed off today, I hope this calms us both. However, I took a bit of a twist.

Tags: fighting, toxic relationships

Fiddleford had caught you off guard as you sat in the kitchen with a book in your hand. You had heard the screaming, the yelling, but your friend’s chest heaved now. His gaze was unfocused and bewildered. “That machine ain’t safe and yer fiancé’s tinkerin’ with it like it’s a toy. It’s gonna end the world!”

“Fidds,” you stared, “what happened? Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer you, running from your home as if he had just escaped certain death. You knew Fiddleford was right. He’d been warning Ford for months, trying to get you on bis side, but Stanford had insisted and brushed the two of you off with that genius air of his. He had said over and over again that he was in control. His muse was an expert.

You couldn’t keep quiet anymore. Enough was enough. Whatever happened scared Fiddleford so badly he wouldn’t even explain, storming out, so you stormed down the stairs, ripping into Ford’s lab with a wild look in your eyes. Your glare fixed itself onto the giant, triangle portal which dominated the room, making you feel small. Fiddleford’s warning echoed in your mind and fueled your exhaustion with this, with being second place to everything in his life. 

What pissed you off the most that Ford didn’t even look up at you. His attention was fully focused on the loose sheets of calculation in front of him. “Stanford Filbrick Pines, are you out of your mind?”

It was like he didn’t even hear you. Your fists clenched, knuckles white as the anger filling you boiled over. In one swift motion, you grabbed the stack of notes off the table in front of him and threw them into the air. Pages flew everywhere, floating down in a fluttering mess. You met his glare with your own. Your eyes were full of rage.

It was as if his whole body shaked is disbelief. You caught him off guard, lost in his wondering of where his muse had disappeared off too. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“This isn’t worth it, Stanford! None of this is worth it!” You shredded the papers that landed at your feet, ripping them apart mercilessly. You watched the pieces fall to the ground. You didn’t care how many hours he had put into it. You didn’t care how meticulous he was. Fuck this.

You kicked over a chair, not knowing what had so quickly come over you. It didn’t matter. You needed to get a message through his thick skull. The chair crashed against the wall and the wood splintered. The sound boomed through the room. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. All you could see was that portal and the man you loved throwing his goddamn life away for the sake of some mystery, some fucking puzzle. 

You hurled one of his many gadgets across the room. The sound of glass shattering startled you, but you didn’t stop. You truly didn’t know if you were capable of stopping. Not yet anyways. So, you threw another, watching it smash against one of his many workbenches. The wires and circuits scattered across the floor like every single one of his broken promises. 

“Stop! [Y/N], please, stop!” 

Ford’s voice cut through the chaos and you turned to him, eyes blazing. “You promised me!” You screamed, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, “You said this wouldn’t consume you! You said this was safe! Did you see Fiddleford’s face? What did you do to him?!” A hateful laugh escaped you. You gestured wildly around you, “Is this worth it? All of this? Is it worth losing your best friend? Is it worth losing me?”

Ford stood frozen in front of you, your words cutting deep. You lunged at him, you fists pounding against his chest in a plea for him to stop this, whatever it was. You weren;t sure, but it could kill him. It could take him away from you. You didn’t want to lose him.The heel of both of your fists met his chest again and he grabbed you. 

He needed to stop you and you fought him the entire way, even as he pinned your back to the far wall. Tears streamed down your cheeks then and you tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. “I didn’t realize-”

“You never realize!” You screamed into his face. You struggled against him, never stopping until his body was pressed flush to yours, hands pinned between you. “You are always so wrapped up in your work that you forget about everything else. About us! Do you even care anymore?!”

He did his best to hush you. A hand cradled your head and hid your face in his neck. You shook your head, tears burning in your eyes, but the anger was fading now, replaced by exhaustion. “I don’t want to lose you, Ford. I can’t stand by and watch you throw your life away for this obsession.”

He held you as you screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your hands covered your face as he tried to kiss away what you were feeling. He didn’t speak, just trying to calm you. You knew it, you knew, this wouldn’t stop. You were going to lose him to this portal, to his muse, whatever, whoever, it was. Ford wasn’t yours, not anymore. Instead, you let him hold you, savoring what was left. You knew, deep down, he wouldn’t be yours for much longer.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Rafe Cameron loves your little golf outfits but also hates them at the same time. Loves that you color coordinate with what he wears but hates when his friend’s eyes linger a second too long. He loves the way you show just a fraction of your toned stomach but hates the way Topper's fingers always seem to brush your arm. He loves the way your little skirts sway when you swing the club, hates the way the men suddenly crouch down when you’re bending over. He would never tell you not to wear it, instead he’d slip a bottle of laxatives and some cash to the waitstaff and have them drop a pill into everyone’s glass. Usually he would resort to violence and punch everyone’s face in for even looking your way. But he’d promised you that he would cut back and try to sort things out by using his words.

Your eyes would widen when everyone started to scatter from the golf field, turning slowly to look at Rafe who was admiring the way your skirt started to flutter up from the breeze.

“Rafe”

“Mhmm?”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing baby… go on keep playing”

And you would because you secretly enjoyed playing golf but you also loved giving your boyfriend a little show.

You’d hit maybe two more balls before he was hauling your ass into the buggy and driving you over towards the Bushland, pressing your back against the scratchy bark and ruffling your skirt up to your waist.

“So needy baby”

He’d respond by sucking harshly at your neck and slipping his fingers into your panties, rubbing lazy circles on your swollen nub. You’d let out soft pants and cries as he brought you closer to your release, slipping two of his long fingers into your dripping cunt. “Fuck baby” you’d cry, pressing your hips into his hand to get him deeper. “I need more”.

He’d oblige, pulling your panties down your legs and pulling his heavy hard cock from its restraints, you wouldn’t give him any time to think before slipping your bare cunt down his shaft. “Fuck” he’d groan, tightening his arm around your waist and pressing his palm against the tree to steady the two of you.

His face buried in the crook of your neck as he thrust into you, angling his cock to hit your spongy soft spot sending waves of pleasure up your spine. “Oh fuck princess… so fucking wet”.

“Wet for you, you looking so fucking good in your golf clothes… I was aching to touch you”

He’d grind harder, his lower stomach rubbing on your clit. Your fingers would slide under his shirt and nails scratch at the expanse of his upper back, leaving behind pink lines. Heels of your feet digging into his lower back as his cock slides in and out of your messy hole, juices everywhere and anywhere. The tip of his cock throbbed against your walls causing you to clamp around him and suck him further. “Fuck.. Rafe.. so close”

Sweat dripped down your lips, his own mouth on yours moments later licking up the salty bead as his tongue explored your mouth. Breathy moans and groans swallowed by his mouth, your orgasm tickles your toes, up your calves until it erupted in your pussy. Pulsating around his cock as you came from the pure pleasure of his aching cock. “Oh shit! Fuck Rafe!”

He was right behind you, your pussy milking him dry, his cum coating your walls. “Shit princess” he’s kiss your collarbone and slumped against your and the tree, pulling himself out of you and grabbing your panties from the floor. “Be a good girl” he says, grasping your calf and helping you back into your panties. His hand reaches up your skirt and palms your pussy, his cum soaking the thin material. “Let’s finish the game” “but” “no but, let’s finish the game. I want to watch you play while my cum drips from your pretty pussy”

Smacking you on the butt and pushing you towards the golf buggy, you bite your lower lip and take a seat like the good girl you are.

[chukys-mouthguard]

Oasis

Word count: 2.4k

Pairing: nico hischier x female reader

Genre: heavy fluff, smut

Warning: sexual content, 18+ readers only

Note: not me becoming a nico girl after writing this 👀🙈

The front door to Nico’s house opening slowly as he’d taken what seemed like forever to unlock it. A nervous smile on his face as he led you inside. Soon the room coming into view as he stepped aside.

Flower petals scattered across the floor, tea lights all around, illuminating and setting the scene for what was continuing an already romantic evening for the two of you.

Nico had surprised you with a date night to your favorite restaurant on the water. Plenty of wine while he advised you to order anything and everything you’d wanted. When asking what the special occasion was, he responded “a man doesn’t need a special occasion to spoil his girl”. Which earned quite the blush from you, and certainly made your heart skip a beat.

The two of you had been together for a little over a year now and things seemed to only get better and better. Nico quite the romantic, always trying his best to make up for his schedule that can often prove difficult when it came to making time for you.

You told him that elaborate dates and gifts weren’t necessary, because you knew what you were signing up for when you started dating, but this was Nico. He loved to spoil you, treat you to the finest things in life. It was what made him happy; never asking for a thing in return, because that wasn’t why he did it.

So now here you were, in the entryway of his house, rose petals and tea lights setting the mood. Your face luckily already permanently blushed from the multiple glasses of wine you’d had at dinner. A smile stuck on Nico’s face as he tried to gauge your feelings, not sure if you were excited or nervous, or both.

“Do you, do you like it?”

The nervousness in his voice making you slightly giggle, a hand caressing his cheek as you kissed his lips. “Of course! I love it baby! But you know you don’t have to do all this for me!”

He took your hand as he pulled you further inside, letting you see that the roses continued up the winding staircase, surely creating a path all the way to his room. “I know, I just, it’s been hard lately with the season getting so crazy. I just want to be sure I take time when I can to do little things like this to show you how much I love and appreciate you.”

His thumb brushing over your cheek as he traced your smile. “Well, this doesn’t seem like a little thing. This is a lot of work!” He giggled as he looked around the room. “Yeah, and I’m sure you’d never believe me when I say Jack helped.”

“Jack Hughes did all of this? I am thoroughly impressed!”

Nico pulled you into his chest as he placed a kiss on your lips, his hands holding tight to your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. “Well, hold your critiques, cause there’s more!”

His voice practically a whisper as his lips brushed over yours with each of his words. His fingers tangling with yours as he led you up the stairs. Giving you a reassuring squeeze of your hand as the two of you reached the top, then unexpectedly pulling you towards the bathroom.

No surprise the bathroom was fully lit with tealights, rose petals everywhere, and a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket accompanied with 2 glasses.

“Okay, now I’m definitely impressed by the work of Jack.”

Nico was thankful his teammate could pull through and make his vision come to life. The nerves and stress now worth it to see your reaction and the smile on your face.

“So then, what’s on the agenda?”

Playfully running your fingers over the buttons of his dress shirt you smirked, knowing Nico probably had been thinking about this all night long. Explaining his nervous shaky hand when holding his wine glass at dinner. Or the way he’d been subconsciously bouncing his knee in the car while driving home.

Though now he seemed more relaxed, things clearly going according to his plan.

“I thought we could cap off the night with a nice bubble bath, enjoy some champagne. As if we didn’t drink enough at dinner. And then just relax, talk, I feel like we hadn’t had a night to do that in awhile.

Just relaxing and talking seemed hard to believe with the elaborate set up Nico had curated. But, you weren’t going to spoil what he had in mind.

While you left to discard of your dress you’d worn to dinner, Nico drew the bath. Making sure to put extra emphasis on the bubbles for you. He then lost his own clothes before climbing in to get comfortable as he waited for you.

As you re-entered the bathroom, your hair now up in a messy bun and all that covered you a robe. A smile immediately on Nico’s face as his eyes met yours. He’d seen you naked plenty of times, but this moment felt different. Almost like he should look away to give you privacy as you joined him among the bubbles.

“What’s the matter Nico, boobs make you nervous?”

Your feet playfully rubbing his leg as you got comfortable in the water. “All boobs? No. Your boobs? Yes ma’am.”

Nico opened the champagne, handing you a glass before toasting to the two of you.

“This is nice. I feel we really needed a night like this. The season has just been, tough to put it plainly.”

Nodding your head as you sipped from your glass you couldn’t agree more. This season compared to last year, just seemed different. Tougher, more taxing, on both you and Nico. But you’d been there by his side through all the ups and downs.

“I know, I feel like it’s been tougher on you than me of course. But, we’ve definitely been through the ringer this year.” An expression of you can say that again plastered across his face as you could see him reflecting on it all.

“I mean, yeah I’m the one out on the ice. But you’re the one I come home to at the end of the day. The one who massages me or gets me ice baths when I can barely walk. The one who cheers me up after a tough loss. Or unfortunately the one who gets the brunt of my anger sometimes when I’m unhappy with a result. Which, you know I’m sorry for every time that’s happened. I hate that I’ve ever taken something out on you.”

Brushing your leg against his as if to reassure him, you shrugged it off. “It’s okay, I don’t take it personal. Sometimes you just have to blow off steam. I get it. Plus, it doesn’t happen often. So every now and then I can manage.”

“Well still, I am going to be better about that. I feel like you’re so good at always taking care of me, and sometimes I don’t always return the same things.”

Nico motioned for your hand to pull you to his side of the bath, positioning you in front of him. Your back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. Peppering your neck with kisses as his legs entangled with yours.

“I love you so much baby.”

A soft moan escaping your lips as his words nothing above a whisper against your ear. Sending tingles down your spine as you smiled. “I love you more Nico.”

One of his hands abandoning your waist as it trailed up your body to tilt your chin towards him, his lips devouring yours in a kiss. The taste of desire and champagne on his lips as his other hand explored your body under the water. First making a point to give attention to your breasts, Nico wanting to get his hands on them since you got into the water. Loving how the bubbles tastefully hid them from his gaze.

Your tongues fought for dominance as his hand now moved south, his fingers tracing the curves of your skin before his legs helped to spread yours. Giving him access to your core.

“Nico.”

A breath moan of his name leaving your lips as your head fell back against his shoulder.

“It’s my turn to take care of you baby.”

His tone was dominant, but reassuring. The idea of Nico in control turning you on even more. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d be the one to take charge, usually it was you in control as you took care of him after a tough game. Which you very much enjoyed. But you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to see Nico in his element.

Nico’s favorite thing was taking control, making sure he pleasured you to your maximum. Never wanting to leave you wanting more.

You could feel him growing hard behind you as his fingers dipped into you, feeling how wet you were for him. A smirk plastered on his lips as he loved knowing that he did that to you. Trying to grind yourself against him, his other arm dropping to grab hold of your waist.

“No no, I’m taking care of you, remember? Don’t worry about me.”

A slight whine coming from you, Nico knew that was always a challenge for you to not reciprocate and try to please him. But he enjoyed being able to tease you and make you squirm by taking away that option for you.

Relaxing in his grip, as you’d surrendered to him having complete control, your eyes slowly shut as his two fingers were working wonders. Nico knowing exactly where to touch you, how to move, what speed you liked. And you were already well on your way to your peak.

“Talk to me baby girl, does that feel good?”

Nodding your head as you bit your lip, nervous to speak as you could feel your breath catching in your throat.

“So fucking good Nico, fuck-“

His fingers quickly pulling out of you as you gasped. Instantly needing his touch back, but he clearly had other plans. A smirk on his lips as he pulled you back in for a kiss.

“Come on baby, I need more of you. But this bath really isn't big enough.”

He climbed out, wrapping a towel around his waist before grabbing another one and helping you from the water. Doing a quick attempt at drying you off, knowing that he wasn’t trying to waste much time on the act. Needing to get you into his bed immediately.

As he finished getting the water from your skin, he picked you up and carried you to his bed, earning a surprised giggle from you in the process.

Gently laying you down he pulled the towel from your body. Beginning to kiss the exposed skin as he moved from your neck down to your core. His eyes flashing up to meet yours, “you’re so fucking beautiful baby.” A shy smile on your lips as your hands tangled in his damp hair. Chills traveling across your body as you felt his breath against your clit.

His fingers dipping back into you, now accompanied by his tongue as it traced your folds between giving sole attention to your clit.

Your legs subconsciously squeezing against Nico, feeling yourself already so close. Back arching off the bed as expletives poured from your lips, fingers pulling at Nico’s hair, earning a low groan from him. He took your reaction as a sign to keep going, not slowing down as your body now slightly shaking beneath him.

“That’s it baby girl, show me how good I make you feel. Cum for me.”

The pace of your breathing rapid as your legs shaked, Nico feeling you tighten around his fingers as you came. His tongue not ceasing as he licked every inch of you clean.

Pulling him up to face you, your lips crashed onto his, tasting yourself on his lips immediately soaking your core once again.

“Mmm, you taste so good baby.”

His hand dropped between you to stroke his cock before he traced your slit, feeling how wet and ready you were. “Can’t get enough of me huh?”

A cocky smirk now on his lips as he saw the need and desperation on your face.

“Please Nico, I need you.”

Your words like magic as that was all he needed, thrusting into you without warning. Both of your moans filling the room as he waited, adjusting to the feeling of you as your fingers gripped at his biceps. Legs wrapping around his waist, needing him deeper, wanting as much of him as you could have.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me.”

“Always am.”

Winking at him you pulled his lips to yours by his hair. If he was the one taking control and fucking you tonight, you could at least try and maintain dominance when kissing him.

His pace picking up as his thrusts were strong and hard. Nico needed this, to have his way and fuck you however he needed. But you happily obliged. Lips breaking from the kiss as your head fell back, moans the only thing you can manage as you felt yourself nearing another climax.

“Nico, fuck. Yes, please don’t stop. You feel so fucking good.”

Nico’s thrusts now sloppy, not able to fully keep up his pace as his low grunts let you knew he was close. His hands gripping your hips, surely leaving bruises but you’d worry about that tomorrow. Fingers pulling at the sheets as your back arched from the mattress while he worked you through your high. The quickly pulling his cock from you as he stroked himself through his own. Your chest rapidly rising and falling with sharp breaths, watching as he finished on your stomach with needy moans. Soon collapsing next to you as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck, baby….I love you so much.”

Brushing his hair from his face you smiled, “I love you more.”

After a few seconds he stood up, grabbing your towel from earlier to clean you up, before lifting you from the bed.

“Baby! What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you also means aftercare baby, gotta clean you up.”

He kissed your lips as he carried you back into the bathroom, his eyes falling on the tub still filled with bubbles and a champagne bottle that must’ve gotten knocked in during your fun earlier.

“Maybe we opt for a shower?”

[kromeihl]

🕸️ prev. | next.

“Strike!” The television in the living room echoed. A small kid jumping up and down, feeling excitement through his veins, watching his favorite baseball player play for his next championship.

“Kenji..” A voice made a sound in the room, aside from the television. Kenji’s ears perk up at the voice, giggling. He runs away, walking to the stairs as he closes his eyes, forgetting that he was playing hide and seek.

“5….4…” Kenji mutters, putting his hands up to cover his face. “3…2..1!” He moves away his hands from his face, opening his eyes as he roams around the house.

He takes notice of shoes behind the curtain as he returns to the living room, the sound of the television is the only one present as silence engulfs the household.

He smiles, thinking that he finally found his father, opening the curtain. Surprisingly, he was met with a broom that fell, it was a decoy. He huffs, feeling determined.

He continues to look around the house, passing a small cabinet in the hallway that displays his family’s pictures. He watches the framed pictures, his mother and father in one, smiling as their faces are beside each other’s, another one with him in it on the center.

His gaze slowly follows his father’s eyeglasses that were placed in front of the framed pictures, he picks them up, trying them on himself as he looks around, trying to see the difference in his surroundings with it on.

He notices a door, that leads to his father’s study room. He slowly puts the glasses back in its place. He slowly approaches the door, opening it as it creaks. He notices the room is empty, but his father’s paperwork is scattered everywhere from the table to the floor.

He walks inside and sees that a part of the window is broken. He slowly walks to the table, his hand touching the sides of it. The rain droplets were evident on the windows. The plants and trees rustling as the air threatened to move the curtains and paper even more.

He faces the door of his father’s study room, his hand on top of the table. “Hey Dad..” He says, voice a bit loud. “Dad!” He calls out even louder, his father entering the room with an evident look of surprise. He looks around feeling nervous and panic rush through his body.

What happened…?

Hayao Sato quickly moved his son away by carrying him in his arms, putting him down on the floor as he rushed to close the curtains, little Kenji wasn’t quite aware of the situation, staring at his panicked father as his hands roamed around the desk. He would occasionally glance at his son.

Later Emiko Sato, his mother, went inside to pick him up in her arms as she looked at her husband in panic. She quickly brings them out of the room as Hayao erases his equations and writings on the board.

It was raining heavily, the speed of the car making puddles splash around it. Kenji felt confused at the sudden change of situation, his mom patting his head soothingly to ease his confusion. “Mom, where are we going?” He looks up at her.

She felt her heart break as she continued to soothingly pat his head. “You’ll know, Ken.” She slowly kisses his forehead.

As soon as they arrived at their destination, his father carried him, his free hand holding a briefcase. His mother follows behind carrying a bag.

He blinks, watching as his parents talk with his aunt and uncle from the living room. He looks at them confusingly, asking himself what was going on. His aunt looks at him with a reassuring smile, the rain pouring even harder as the thunder start to make a sound.

As soon as they were finished with the conversation, Hayao slowly kneeled at Kenji's level. “Dad?” He looks at his father, feeling sad. “Kenji, you’ll be staying with Aunt Mina and Uncle Ben for some time.”

Kenji felt surprised as he answered rather quickly, “But, I wanna go with you.” His father chuckles, running a hand through his son’s hair. “No.” He shakes his head. He puts his hand on his son’s neck, making Kenji lean forward as his father kisses his head.

His mother was next to bid him goodbye, “Mom…” He says rather quietly, his mother tearing up. “Play for who you want to play for.” She laughs softly, caressing his cheek. “But you like the Tigers and I like—”

“I know, Kenji.” She smiles softly. “I will support you, even if you’re going to play for the Giants.” She hugs him. “Mom..” He says again, not knowing what else to say after. She pats his back gently.

“You’ll be amazing.” She smiles, tears brimming up in her eyes. She slowly moves her hand to brush away his hair, his Aunt behind them and Uncle near the door. “H-He loves baseball.” She smiles sadly, “And— he doesn’t like coconut water.” She laughs softly, feeling tears about to fall out of her eyes.

Hayao quickly moves his wife away from little Kenji, “Emiko, let’s go.” He tried saying firmly, but there was a hint of sadness visible in his voice. “Kenji..” She whispers before standing up.

Kenji’s aunt patting his back soothingly as Uncle Ben stands on the side of the door, watching the scene unfold. Hayao opens the door, the rain still pouring hard as ever, Emiko leaving so she wouldn’t face her son, crying.

Before Hayao leaves, Kenji walks up to him, holding his sleeve. Hayao smiles, walking away after saying, “Be good.” He gives him one last nod before looking away, shutting the door.

Little Kenji watches his parents leave as his aunt puts her hands on both of his shoulders, feeling saddened by the situation. Kenji never knew that, it was his last time ever seeing them again.

Kenji Sato is busying himself by putting on pictures on the wall of champions, which is displayed on the wall with a sliding glass to keep the pictures safe inside.

He looks at the words displayed on the bottom of the photo, “Yomiuri Giants Debate Club.” He blinks, amused.

Suddenly he gets hit by a baseball. He turns his head to see Flash. “Sorry.” He laughs, Kenji unbothered by the situation, “Good morning, Flash.” He sighs. He had been getting this treatment after losing a ton of games recently. Flash is clearly building up his own ego.

Kenji continues to finish his work, sliding the glass to close the contained pictures as Flash replies, “G’morning, Sato.” He says almost mockingly, moving towards him as he tries to play around. Kenji looks at him, unamused, used to Flash’s stupid antics.

Kenji walks away, a skateboard in hand. Suddenly a girl speaks up, making him stop from his tracks, “Hey. It’s Kenji, right?” She smiles, books wrapped around her hand. Kenji nods, letting out a hum. “I really love watching your games.” She smiles, making him nod in amusement.

“Oh, thanks.” He brushes a free hand through his hair, “Oh, well.. uhm..” She stutters, making him turn his attention to her again as he raises his brows in acknowledgement. “Listen, are you busy Friday night?” He pauses before nodding, staring at her in disbelief. He didn’t deny this was the first ever girl that asked him out, honestly. He just wasn’t interested, he already had an eye on someone.

“Cool! Can you maybe sign his baseball bat?” And he was wrong, he wasn’t being asked out. “I just— like he’s such a big fan of yours even if you’ve been losing lately.” Kenji slightly furrows his brows as he forces a small smile. That stung. “It’s for his birthday and I’m sure he wants his baseball bat to be signed by his idol.” She laughs.

“Oh, wow. That’s nice of you. I’ll just,” he pauses nodding his head, “I’ll check my schedule.” He continues. “Okay, thanks!” She smiles before he starts walking away, putting his skateboard down as he uses it to pass the hall. He momentarily picks it up, seeing a teacher.

“Kenji, you wanna keep that skateboard?” He glares, “Yep, sorry.” He walks away, brushing off the words of the teacher as he continues to scold him. After he walks away, he glances to check if the teacher is still looking before using his skateboard again.

He skates to his locker, picking up his board as he notices a couple making out making him look at them in disgust. He awkwardly moves them as he opens his locker, trying not to use all his strength or else they’d be pushed away onto the floor, which he actually wanted to do.

He finally gets to grab a book from his locker, the force of the couple’s harsh movements closing it back. He walks away, going outside. He pauses noticing a girl reading a book. He smiled, knowing who it was as he felt his chest flutter.

[Name] is seated on a table, her bag on the chair as she looks focused on reading her book. He took a camera out of his backpack, he had a hobby of capturing things, too. Especially sceneries that are beautiful like you. He snaps a photo in his camera, looking at it with a smile.

He chuckles, staring at the photo as your features are clear. He noted the serious look on your face. Suddenly a crowd formed from afar, which started to catch his attention.

“Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!” The crowd chants as Flash shoves Gordon’s face on a plate of food. “Eat your vegetables, Gordon, come on!” He laughs, and the crowd of people continues to yell. “Come on!” Flash forces.

Kenji slowly walks through the crowd, the people moving aside to give him space. “Hey, Sato! Join me!” Flash says as he carries Gordon, the poor kid’s face covered in food. Flash notices Kenji holding a camera. “Take a picture of this!”

The crowd continues to chant as Kenji speaks up, “No way man. I’m not gonna take a picture of it.” He says a bit angrily. “Put him down, this isn’t funny.” Flash looks amused, “Come on!” The crowd still continues to chant, “Eat it!” repeatedly, making Kenji annoyed.

“Join me if you ain’t taking a picture!” Flash still continues to convince as Kenji shakes his head, “Gordon don’t eat it.” He commands. “Sato, come on, just take a picture.” Kenji continues to approach them. “Flash, put him down.” He says, voice a bit louder.

“Bro.” Flash says angrily, “Just take the damn picture.” He says, his anger starting to fuel up as Kenji looks at him with disgust. “Just put him down, Eugene! This isn’t funny.” He glares, Flash throwing Gordon on the ground. Kenji quickly moves to check on Gordon, but gets stopped by Flash moving him back.

He suddenly gets punched in the face, falling back. “Come on, get up, Sato! Is that all you’ve got with your failed baseball games?!” Kenji looks up, kicking Flash’s feet, resulting in him falling back, giving him time to stand up. “Oh yeah? Just because you’re the new captain doesn’t give you the right to abuse your power!” Kenji retorts, Flash gets back up, punching Kenji’s stomach.

“Yeah? We don’t need you, stupid captain version.” Flash groans, the back pain coming to him. “Well, this stupid captain version’s gonna make you eat this fist!” Before Kenji hits his jaw, Flash punches his gut. The crowd letting out Ooo’s and Aaah’s.

As Kenji falls to the ground again, Flash kicks him. “Come on! Can’t get up?!” He watches as Kenji groans on the ground, still having the strength to reply, “You’re the stupid caption version, actually.” He smirks, chuckling after, earning another kick on his stomach. The crowd felt concern wash over them, surprised from Flash’s unnecessary attacks.

Flash smiles victoriously, “Really? Who wants to be next?!” He looks around the crowd, them stepping back.

As you were reading the book in your hands, you noticed Kenji Sato walk out, your eyes landing on him instead. He looked handsome as ever, his jacket covering his fit body, his hair neatly sat on his head.

You smile, returning your attention back to the book, unaware of Kenji snapping a photo of you in his camera. Suddenly you look back and noticed that he was walking away, making you eye the crowd from afar.

You didn’t pay much attention but hearing groans from afar made you run to the crowd in concern. And there you saw, Sato was on the ground, getting beaten up by Flash. He circles around everyone, “Really? Who wants to be next?!” He says proudly, looking at everyone in the crowd.

“Flash!” [Name] calls out, running to him, making him turn to her. “We still on for after school today?” She raises a brow, not shy enough to hide the glare. Flash looks at her in silence, feeling a bit nervous. “My house, 3:30?” You continue, “Your tutor sessio—”

“I- I know.” He quickly stops you. “I hope you’re doing your homework, your tasks, practice tests.” Glaring at him as you nod your head, trying to get an answer from him.

Kenji slowly gets up, feeling grateful for your distraction. “Last time I was.. Very disappointed in you.” You make a face, showing disappointment. “Don’t fail next time, okay?” You look at him up and down, giving a small innocent smile.

“Gosh, okay— Move.” Flash quickly cuts off again, about to approach where Kenji is, you quickly move in his direction. “No, enough!” You say slightly louder, “Get to class, okay?” Flash gives you a look of confusion, hiding the glare as he feels embarrassed that a big crowd is watching them.

“Go.” You command, making him scoff as he bites his inner cheek, listening to your order. You quickly glance at Kenji who was having difficulty to get up. You glance at Flash who was walking away, looking back at you nervously before heading straight.

Suddenly a guy kicked Kenji’s camera, “Should’ve listened dude.” He commented, walking away. Kenji glares at him before checking his camera, which had a small scratch on the outside. He turns it on, only to see the photo of you that he captured.

“Hey.” You speak up, offering a hand to him. He grabs it, muttering a small thanks before standing up. “Sorry you had to see that, you should head to class first.” He tries to act tough, feeling the pain in his stomach.

“Are you sure?” You ask, not hiding the fact that you were concerned. “I’m sure.” He replied rather quickly, making you nod. You start to walk away, looking back not once but twice. Each time you look back, you can still see him, staring right at you.

As soon as you were out of his sight, he groans, falling back on the ground as he checked his camera again. He smiles softly, looking at the pretty girl he captured, who just helped him.

The classroom was noisy as some students whisper to each other, some placing their bags and getting their pens and notebooks. Kenji walks over to his seat which was next to the one behind yours, placing his backpack with the skateboard on the ground, camera still on his hand as he places it on his desk, covering it with his arms. He leans his head on his arms, feeling tired from the earlier fight.

You noticed his presence, looking back as you smile at him, “What you did back there was amazing.” He turns his head to you, “Oh, really?” He smirks, making you a bit flustered. “Y—Yeah.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, his smirk not faltering. “It was stupid,” You add, making him raise a brow.

“But it was amazing.” He smiles, nodding his head. “You did great for standing up for Gordon back there.” you continue, earning a wider grin from him, “You’re enjoying yourself a bit too much.” You felt your heart beat a bit faster, “Excuse me?” you say, confused.

“You enjoy complimenting me for doing something stupid but amazing?” He raises a brow, making you nod. “I take it back then,” you say, smirking as you look back at the bored. “Hey,” he calls out, making you turn your head to him.

“You gonna stop?” he teases, making you raise a brow. You scoff, “I think you’re having a concussion.” he felt surprised at your response, “Really?”

“You should head to the nurse.” you smile at him.

He looks at you, still surprised, his mouth agape. “What’s your name?” you question, making him even more surprised. “You.. Don’t know my name?” you laugh, shaking your head, “Oh no, duh, of course I do. I just want to see if you know your name.”

He playfully rolls his eyes at you. He smiles, thinking that you were still talking about the concussion. “Kenji.” he says, “Kenji Sato.” you smile as he replies, nodding your head. “Okay, okay. Good.”

You turn your head back to the bored, fidgeting with your pen. Kenji’s smile never falters, his heart beating faster than ever. Suddenly you look back again, “I’d still go to the nurse though.”

“You’re [Name], right?” he asks, “[First Name] [Last Name].” You continue, smiling at him. He nods, “All right.” You turn your head back to the bored, biting your lip as you try to hide your excitement.

I just talked to THE Kenji Sato! The star baseball player of the Yomiuri Giants!

I love how you guys are showing so much support on this! It warms my heart so much!! It’s so tiring to write so much words, I swear I’m speed running this cause there’s more than just one The Amazing Spiderman movie 😭 I’m not even half way of the story yet 😍

I love reading you guys’ comments so much. It makes me feel so motivated to write. I hope you guys enjoy this series ‘cause it will probably take a while~ 🎀

This tag: #ameijamsspiderken🕸️ is what I will use for this series!

taglist: @luneariaa @lovingyeet @aishallnotbefound @harperwasstaken1 @onlysarang @thewifeoflevi

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader Valentines Special

A/N: This is set a few months ahead of the actually story. I hope you all like this and Happy Valentines!

Today was Valentine's Day and Playcare did not slack with the decorations. I should’ve known since for Christmas they didn’t hold back on the decorations either. I laughed thinking back to that day. DogDay was so excited to give me his present. I looked down at my wrist and admired the handmade 'friendship' bracelet that he gave me. On the bracelet was his name and on his was my name; well actually it said 'Angel' which is my name for him so yeah, haha. I gave him a handmade bandana. He hasn’t taken it off since then. Well unless he needs to get cleaned then he’ll take it off but other than that nope.  

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As I exited the cable car there was a lot, and I mean a lot of hearts scattered around the place. There was some on the lamp post, on the floor, everywhere! I noticed that around the statues of the Smiling Critters were streamers with hearts. There also seemed to be string hanging down from each of their hands, er, paws..feathers..whatever. It seemed like there was supposed to be something attached at the bottom for each of them but there wasn’t. I’d have to ask someone what it’s for.  

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The counselor's office was decked out with streamers, candy, balloons the whole fixings. I set my stuff down in the lounge for us helpers and took out some Valentine Day cards that I made for the kids that were normally assigned to me and DogDay. As I was heading out, I spotted Sarah, Catnaps helper and asked her if she knew what the strings were for on the statues. “Hm? Oh, so like at the end of the day all the Smiling Critters are gonna go in the playhouse and us helpers must write some sappy crap for them on this big heart and attach it to the string. We do it allll the tiiiime. Oh, and like when we’re doing that, they’re in the playhouse doing the exact same thing. It’s dumb.” It didn’t sound dumb to me; it seemed sweet. I haven't been here as long as the other helpers, but I was looking forward to this. I thanked Sarah and made my way to the school. 

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It looked like Cupid himself threw up everywhere. Along the walls there were hearts with the children’s names. I recognized a few of the names: Miley, Jason, Henry, Todd, and Damian. Damian was a good kid. To be honest, I’ve grown attached to all the kids. I know the day will come when they’ll get adopted, that’ll be the last I see of them. I shook my head and walked over to the art room. On my sheet for today it said that I’ll be stationed here along with DogDay.  

As I was approaching the art room, I saw Craftycorn along with DogDay through the glass. Craftycorn was short enough to not need to hunch over, unlike DogDay. I opened the door and was immediately greeted by the kids. “Angel!” I laughed as I shut the door. DogDay chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. Craftycorn waved hello and DogDay picked me up and hugged me like always. “Hiya Angel, we were just talking about you!” As he put me down, I got a good look at his face. He had a heart painted over his little brown patch. Cute. “Oh? And what were you all saying about me?” I set the bag of cards that I had on a table. “We said that we like having you around and that we hoped you brought us our gifts.” Damian spoke out. He had hearts painted on his cheeks. “I like being around you all as well and yes, I have your gifts.” I reached for the bag and started to hand out each of the handmade cards to the children that were assigned to me.  

The kids from Craftycorn looked sad that her helper didn’t get them anything, luckily, I had extra to give out. “Look at you Angel, so thoughtful.” DogDay spoke out. “I made some cards for you guys as well but there put away in the counselor's office.” DogDay wagged his tail while hearing this. “Oh, wow Angel, you shouldn’t have.” I knew DogDay was just saying that playfully. Damien told me yesterday that DogDay was hoping for a card from me. “Now, let’s get you all dolled up like me Angel.” DogDay then grabbed me and set me down on a chair in front of him. I came to about his chest when he was sitting like an actual dog would. Craftycorn then walked over to me holding a paint brush with red at the end. I smiled and closed my eyes as she also painted a heart over my eye.  

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My shift was ending soon which meant that it was time to attach a heart to the strings on the statues. I walked around and placed the cards that I made for each Smiling Critter into a little basket on the floor right below the string. After I placed all the cards I walked to right in front of Dogdays' statue and attached the giant heart onto the string. “I hope he likes it.” I said to no one in particular.  

Soon a bell rang, and all the Smiling Critters came outside of the playhouse. I spotted DogDay and waved hello and he immediately waved hello back. All of them soon then stood right in front of their helpers and in unison said “Happy Valentines” while handing us a gift bag. “Happy Valentines Day Angel, I hope you like your gift.” I looked up and smiled. “Happy Valentines Day DogDay, I also hope you like your gift.” “I’d be happy with anything Angel; heck you can even give me a rock and I’ll be happy with just that!” He’s so silly. “Well sorry to disappoint but I did not get you a rock.”  

I moved out of his way so he could see his letter on the heart. While he read my letter, I opened my gift bag. Inside was a picture of me and DogDay. He was holding me in his arms, and we were both showing off our painted faces. The picture frame was covered in little hearts and dog bones. I turned the picture around and saw a note attached. Before I could read it DogDay snatched me up and buried me into his soft, fluffy chest. “Thank you Angel! This letter means the world to me. I promise I’ll cherish it forever and ever!” I laughed at his reaction. Dogday then held me up to his face and moved me closer. His nose booped my nose. “I love you, Angel.” “I love you too, DogDay.”