#skip bag for waste removal

[wastersnz]

The Role of Garden Waste Removal Bags in Reducing Landfill Waste

[mrsshabana]

I saw your posting Gyutaro role-playing courtesan and we being customers and I liked it a lot!!Can I request one shot or something detailed about it?

+I'm not native so my sentence can be awkward

𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒔𝒂𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

♥ CW: 18+ content, MDNI, female reader, smut, creampie, dubcon, sex work, manipulation

♥ AN: Demon Gyutaro disguises himself as a human courtesan. (Basically switching places with Daki). I really enjoyed writing this one (sorry it took me awhile). But I think this is my favorite one shot I've written yet! Thanks for reading!

♥ WC: 2,512

"What?! Y-you want me...?" The tall man with flowing black locks, and vibrant sea-blue eyes looks down at you.

"Yes," You offer him a satchel full of money, "I would like to purchase a night with you."

He hesitantly takes the bag, "Customers never request me..." he mumbles, "Are you sure it's me you want for the night? There are men that are much more attractive than me..."

"I'm positive," you nod, "I have seen the other men in this house. And you are my favorite... I find you very attractive."

"Well then," he gulps, "Follow me."

With a skip in your step, you follow him down the hall and into an extravagant looking bedroom. Candles glowing in the corners of the room, illuminating the large futon in the middle. Decorated with elaborate silk sheets.

"Please take a seat," Gyutaro says politely, motioning towards some cushions in front on a low table.

You take a seat and look up at him as he pours you a cup of tea.

"My name is Gyutaro by the way," he says as he sits down in front of you.

"What a lovely name, I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to be spending this evening with you," you blush as you sip at your tea.

Gyutaro sits there and watches you, unsure of how to move forward with the main event. You did pay him after all... so he might as well give you what you paid for.

He clears his throat and breaks the silence, "We can start whenever you're ready..."

You blush, remembering that you didn't come here for a simple cup of tea. "Oh um, I-I'm ready to start now."

"Alright then, make yourself comfortable," Gyutaro motions towards the futon. Trying not to stare as you strip down to your corset and panties, laying down on the silk sheets.

"Fuck," Gyutaro curses under his breath. You look so sexy. Never would he have imagined that he would get the opportunity to have sex with such a gorgeous woman. It makes his insecurities skyrocket.

If he shows you his body, surely you will demand a refund.

He takes a deep breath, building the strength to remove his kimono and reveal his body to you.

The room goes silent as he waits for you to express your disgust. But you never do.

You look up at him with the sweetest expression, patting the spot beside you on the futon.

"You... still want me?" he gasps in disbelief.

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?" you cock your head to the side. He feels slightly insulted that you choose to ignore the obvious fact that his body isn't what you were expecting. But he can't complain. At least you aren't hurling insults at him.

All he can manage is a nod. Looking down at you, seeing your perfect body, he's already rock hard. His hormones take over, pushing his negative thoughts and insecurities aside.

Lasty he removes his underwear, his cock springing free.

You can't help but stare. It's so much larger than you had anticipated, and not only are you surprised by the size, but it's so pretty too. The same birthmarks that cover his face trail down his shaft as well. You can't help but admire them, watching as each vein pulses in anticipation of being inside of you.

Gyutaro wastes no time climbing on top of you, making himself comfortable between your legs.

He gently kisses your neck and whispers, "At any point, let me know if you want me to stop."

"O-ok," you moan, pulling him closer.

He grins and continues kissing and nipping at your neck, being sure to leave marks behind. He grinds his hips against your clothed pussy as he removes your corset. Kissing and twirling his tongue around your nipple, as his hand squeezes your other breast.

"A-ah!" you gasp.

He looks up at you with hooded eyes, not even bothering to stop rubbing his cock between your folds. "You like that huh? I can tell... you're already seeping through your panties," he smirks.

"Mm hm," you nod, "f-feels good."

"So, you won't mind if I take these off, hm?" he laces a finger under your panties, tugging them slightly.

"Please do," you mutter.

Gyutaro has never gotten an opportunity like this, he can't believe his luck. Right in this moment, he vows to himself that he is going to get as much from you as he can.

He removes your panties, watching in awe as your slick clings to the fabric as he pulls them away. His cock twitches at the thought that you could possibly want him so badly to be this wet.

Grabbing the base of his cock, he positions himself at your entrance, "Ready for me, Y/N?"

"Y-yes, I'm ready Gyutaro," you nod, spreading your legs wider for him.

With a smirk, Gyutaro leans his body forward as the tip of his cock slides into you. As he goes deeper, the sensation of your walls clenching down on him quite literally takes his breath away.

He lets out a low groan as he slowly slides into you, making sure to consider your comfort. You are his client after all and a part of him is hoping that you will come back for his services again someday.

You squeeze your eyes shut and cling onto him as he bottoms out, moaning in ecstasy at the feeling of being completely full.

Gyutaro stills for a moment, looking down and clenching his teeth. Trying to recompose himself enough to speak, "Are you... are you comfortable?" he mutters.

The fact that he cares so much about your comfort makes you blush. "Yes," you nod enthusiastically, "I'm comfortable. You can start moving now..." you look away in embarrassment.

The first few thrusts are shaky and tentative as Gyutaro tries to adjust to the pleasure that he's feeling. Even though he is a courtesan, a Yarō to be specific, he never gets requested to perform sexual services for customers. He earns his keep by acting and doing tea ceremonies, which he excels at.

But it's not long before he gets a good rhythm going. The beautiful moans that escape your lips encourage him to keep going, picking up the pace. His cock sliding in and out of you, filling the room with obscene wet slaps and squelches.

He already feels himself getting close, but he wants to make sure his customer is left satisfied, "I-I wanna make you cum," he says between pants and grunts.

You roll your fingers through his hair and move his head to look into your eyes, "I'm getting close Gyutaro, ah-, you're doing so good." You moan as you wrap your legs around his hips, bringing him closer to you. He barely pulls his cock out of you before thrusting back in again, the added friction of his pelvis rubbing against your clit bringing you even closer to climax.

And he can tell by the way your walls tighten around him. He feels like he is quite literally being milked.

He feels himself slipping as he becomes drunk off of the way your pussy pulls him in and begs for his cum. All he can think about is filling you up, nothing else matters.

When your walls start quivering, it pushes him over the edge.

Gyutaro crashes his lips with yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as your body shakes beneath him and the two of you climax together. With another harsh thrust he's spilling his sticky hot seed inside of you, filling you to the brim. As his spotted cock twitches, he feels every part of his being let go and become one with you.

He's never experienced such pleasure in his entire life.

When his orgasm fades and he pulls away from the kiss, he looks into your glazed over eyes. Only to be met by the look of pure terror on your face.

"What's the matter?"

You are in complete shock. The man that you just made love to, is not the man you thought he was. But rather a demon.

His appearance completely changed. His long black hair is now half lime green, and his beautiful sea-blue eyes are now sickly with glowing yellow scleras. His vibrant skin now grey and lifeless. And when he opens his mouth to speak, you are met with deadly sharp teeth inches away from your face.

It takes Gyutaro a moment to realize that his human disguise had faded. He let his guard down and wasn't able to keep his guise up during his orgasm.

"Fuck," he growls as he quickly covers your mouth with his hand before you are able to scream.

"And I was starting to like you too," he sighs, looking down at you with a frown, "Now I have no other choice but to kill you."

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, your pleas being muffled by his hand.

"Don't worry darling," he smirks, "I'll make you cum again before you die."

He cackles as he watches the tears flow from your eyes.

His entire demeanor has changed now that he is showing his true self. Before, he was so polite but now he is the complete opposite. A blood thirsty killer ready to use you for his own enjoyment.

He momentarily moves his hand and grabs your hips to flip you over, pressing your ass against his dick. Before you even get the chance to speak, he's ramming his cock back inside of you. Eliciting a yelp from you.

"Ah-" you start, but his hand muffles the rest of your whimpers.

"Shut the fuck up," he punctuates each word with a hard thrust. Pulling your head up, he keeps his other hand seated on your waist. Your back arches as he bends you into this uncomfortable position.

You whine and yelp into his palm as he continues to abuse your already sore pussy. No longer considering your comfort, all you have become is a toy.

"Fuck," he grunts under his breath, "this pussy is so tight, Ngh- gonna miss it after I devour you."

He cackles when he feels your face contort in fear as your tears wet his hand. Gyutaro decides to move his hand from your mouth to your throat, firmly constricting your air flow as he feels his cock start to switch.

When you claw at his hand and start gasping for air it pushes him over the edge. Watching you struggle for your life, seeing you completely at his mercy. He empties another load into your pussy, his previous one already dripping down your thighs.

With a content sigh he releases you, causing you to fall on your face back onto the futon. Blood fills your mouth when you accidentally bite your lip, but that's the least of your concerns. You are too busy gasping for air to care. Your lungs burning.

Gyutaro sits back for a moment to watch you struggle. Looking down at his still erect cock he shrugs and to your dismay, grabs your waist again.

"P-please Gyutaro, don't hurt me," you whimper, weakly trying to crawl away from him.

"Calm down, I ain't gonna kill you yet," he chuckles as he positions you to sit on his lap.

"Just one more round, ok? I still wanna make you cum again," he tenderly moves your hair out of your face, "You'll ride my cock like a good girl, won't you?"

Wiping away your tears, you nod, "Y-yes..." you whimper as your shaky hand holds onto his shoulder for support while you position his cock at your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him.

His eyes widen at your obedience, groaning when you sit on him fully.

He's shocked to see how you start riding him with enthusiasm, even going as far as to gently lay your head in the crook of his neck. Holding onto him and moaning sweetly into his ear.

He thought that you'd just be doing this to persuade him to spare your life, but why do your actions seem so genuine?

Maybe it's because you are strangely even more attracted to him in his true form. Something about having sex with a dangerous man-eating demon makes you want him even more. Being used like a toy by this powerful man. It all makes you want him even more.

"Ah Y/N..." he moans, gripping your ass and guiding you up and down his length.

"Mm you feel so good, Gyutaro," you pant, "so so good..."

You gently kiss the rough skin of his neck, causing him to gasp and moan. His adam's apple bobbing with each pleasured sound that escapes his lips.

He presses his thumb down on your clit and starts rubbing in tight circles.

"R-right there baby," you moan, encouraging him to pick up the pace. Being called baby pulls at his heart strings. He wants to make you cum so bad, but this time for less selfish reasons.

He passionately kisses you, gently sucking the blood from your bottom lip. You taste so sweet on his tongue. A taste he finds himself quickly getting addicted to.

As he continues to play with your clit, he uses his other hand to hold onto your hip and thrust up into you, meeting your hips with a loud, wet slap.

Your orgasm hits you hard, "Gyutaro!!" you scream. Your thighs trembling as your walls tighten and convulse around him.

Gyutaro thrusts a final time and he's unraveling with you, wrapping his muscular arms around you and holding you close as he fills you up with his cum for the third time tonight.

The way that the two of you hold onto each other, it's almost as if you love one another.

Gyutaro holds you in his arms, listening to your labored breaths.

He carefully slides out of you and lays you down on the futon. He looks down at you with a frown, watching as you continue to surprise him. You don't run away or beg for him to spare your life. It's almost as if you have completely forgotten he promised to kill you once he's had his fun.

Instead you just lay there and stare up at him with a look he is unfamiliar with. One that he doesn't quite understand but it causes his body to move on its own. Without saying anything, he lays down beside you and pulls you into his chest. Gently caressing your face, he watches as sleep overcomes you.

You look so peaceful. But how could that possibly be so, when you have a demon in your bed?

Once he is sure you are fast asleep, Gyutaro gets up and puts a layer of his kimono back on. Staring down at your helpless body sleeping under the silk sheets.

"Sister..." he rasps, "come out."

He hunches over and a beautiful woman with long white hair forms out of his back, quite literally crawling out of his skin.

"Yes brother?" she says obediently before she looks over at your sleeping form, "Oh, what do we have here?"

"Store this human in your obi," he demands, "I have plans for her..."

I want to thank @lilliumteaandbeez for educating me on the history of male courtesans in the entertainment district! Thank you so much for the help! ♡

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ HOME AT LAST 𖤐 . — lee heeseung

↺ CONTENT: established relationship idol au, reader is gender-neutral, reader is not an idol, tooth-rotting fluff.

↺ FROM HYE: The amount of content I inhaled about this man should be kept between me and God.... (I want him so bad wtf)

Heeseung knew something was wrong the moment you did not jump on him when you returned home. Dropping his bag on the nearby couch, he removed his shoes and neatly tucked them to the side; not wanting to get a scolding from you later. His eyes did a quick scan of the living room, only to spot no signs of you. Lips pursed, he headed to the bedroom and silently pushed open the door, in case you were asleep. And turns out he was right. 

There you were, wrapped with the blankets as you laid in a comfortable position on your shared bed. Your back was facing him as he tip-tooed further into your room. As he got closer, his eyes softened at the endearing sight of you fast asleep, hugging a pillow close to your chest. The blankets managed to cover you till your shoulders, allowing him to get a peak of you wearing one of his hoodies. 

A part of him felt bad for not being by your side, due to him being busy going on tour after tour. He tried to make time for you by having daily video calls and updating you about his daily life, despite the time difference between the two of you. Whenever he was feeling under the weather or homesick, he would read your conversations and that never fails to put a smile on his face; something his members noticed and constantly teased him about. But deep down, they knew he deeply yearns for your presence. 

Heeseung left the room, moving to take a quick but refreshing shower as he unpacked his luggage, dumping the worn clothes in the washing machine. The remains could be dealt with the next day but for now, he wants to be with you. He returned to the bedroom and it seems like the noises he made must have woken you up, for you were sitting on the bed, hair all messed up as you looked at him with half-opened eyes. 

“Heeseung…? Is that you?” You mumbled, covering your mouth when you yawned. 

“Mhm, it’s me. I’m home,” he murmured, stepping closer until he sat on the edge of the bed. He chuckled when you wasted no time in moving to him, sleepily hugging him with your arms hanging loosely around his shoulders. 

“Welcome home, I miss you,” your muffled voice managed to reach his ears, due to how you had buried your face in the crook of his neck. 

“I miss you too. You should go back to sleep,” he smiled when you made a noise of protest as he adjusted his position so both of you were more comfortable. He managed to properly lay on the bed while you clung onto him like he was your final lifeline, showing no intentions of letting go. 

“Will you still be here tomorrow?” 

The idol swore his chest tightened when he heard your question. It made him realize just how much you had missed his presence and a wave of remorse washed over him. Heesung nodded his head, rubbing circles on your back through his hoodie. 

“Of course, I’ll still be here. Just go to sleep and we will have the whole day to ourselves tomorrow,” he assures you. 

It’s not like his managers and members will hunt him down for skipping a day or two, right?

[mintsbubbletea]

𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐈𝐢𝐝𝐚- 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞

Word Count: 1,148

Contains: No pronouns mentioned, AFAB, cursing, drinking, grinding, kissing, pills

Proof read and Edited

You were jolted awake by the sun's rays hitting your face, interrupting what felt like the shortest nap ever. You shielded your eyes with your hands, desperately attempting to block out the bright light. With a grumble, you tried to close the curtains, wanting to stay in bed and avoid the day ahead. But they wouldn't budge, forcing you to begrudgingly get up and push them shut. Rubbing your eyes, you glanced at the clock on your nightstand and saw that it was time to start getting ready for school.

"Damn it" you muttered, realizing you had only fallen asleep an hour ago. The night before, you and some classmates had gone to a nearby party to celebrate passing a test. Well, it was mostly Iida bombarding you with information and making you take notes, followed by a surprise quiz that helped you pass the test. But you were determined to let loose and indulge in some partying. You remembered dancing and drinking with Mina, Denki, Jiro, and Sero after sneaking out of the dorms. Mina had kept the drinks flowing, and you had all let loose, grinding on Mina and dragging Sero in on the fun and singing along to the music. The night had ended at 6am when you finally stumbled back to your room, exhausted and still in your party clothes.

You thought to yourself, "What if I decide not to go?" However, the memory of the last time you skipped class and faced Iida's disapproval quickly came to mind. He had lectured you about setting a bad example, especially since you were dating the class representative. As a loving girlfriend, you couldn't bear to disappoint him. Hastily, you removed your clothes and reached for your uniform, which was neatly placed on the chair. Slipping into the skirt, you put on the knee-high socks and buttoned up the white button-down shirt, finally adding your blazer. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you noticed the faint bags under your eyes. With a shrug, you accepted that there was no time for makeup.

Grabbing your bag, you slipped on your shoes and made your way downstairs to the kitchen. You quickly brewed a cup of coffee, knowing it would be your lifeline for the day. Finally, you arrived at school, passing by other students as you entered your classroom. Surprisingly, your seat was right next to Iida's. As you set down the paper coffee cup and sat down, your expression revealed your exhaustion. Just as Tenya was about to say something, you pulled out a can of Monster from your bag. Pouring it into your coffee, you turned to face Tenya, who looked genuinely concerned. "Y/n, what are you-"

You interrupted him abruptly. "I'm going to die," you declared before gulping down the coffee now infused with Monster. His eyes widened in alarm as he tried to grab the cup, but you had already finished it. "What's gotten into you? Mixing those drinks can be risky," he scolded, observing your fatigued expression. "Did you pull an all-nighter again?" he inquired. You weakly nodded, your eyelids drooping and your heart racing. He let out a soft sigh, adjusting his glasses with a hand. "How many times do I have to remind you to take care of yourself? You need some decent sleep to function properly. How long did you manage to sleep?" he probed, already anticipating a short answer.

You blinked wearily before responding. "One hour," you admitted, rubbing your eyes tiredly. "Well, at least it's better than last time. Did you have breakfast at least?" he pressed. You nervously smiled, aware that a lecture on the importance of breakfast was imminent. "Oh, Y/n. I've emphasized countless times how crucial breakfast is; it's the most important meal of the day," he scolded, chopping the air. "You're going to be the death of me, you know."

Iida wasted no time after class, ushering you to his dorm. He knew that if he didn't, you'd either crash from exhaustion or pull an all-nighter without eating. "Sit," he instructed, pointing to his desk. "Ten, I'm fine, I just need-"

"I told you to sit, didn't I?" he interrupted. You complied, unsure of what he had in mind. "Stay put, I'll be right back." Fifteen minutes later, he returned with a bag. Placing it on the desk, he pulled out a pill bottle and a container of soup. "Take these," he said, handing you a pill. You stared at it in your hand, then back up at him. "What's this for?" you inquired.

You stared at him in shock, not realizing he knew about your night out. "How did you find out?" you questioned, popping the pill into your mouth and washing it down with water. Tenya pulled a container out of his bag, releasing the aroma of miso soup. "Firstly, as your boyfriend, I can read you like a book - your behavior, your speech. Secondly, you sent me a ton of videos and photos," he chuckled, displaying images of you dancing and getting close with Mina. One photo even showed you two kissing, but it didn't seem to faze Tenya. Blushing, you turned away. "I can't believe I snitched on myself," you muttered, only to hear a video playing on his phone.

"Ten. I really miss you a lot. You glanced at his phone and saw yourself on the screen, with music playing in the background and clearly intoxicated. "Like fuck, I wish you were here with me. We should be out dancing and having drinks together, but instead, you're being a good boy and sleeping," you slurred in the video. "I don't even know how I managed to get someone like you. You're so intelligent, attractive, and always make the right choices, while I'm just a wild mess causing chaos. Are you really in love with me?" The video came to an end.

He shut you up with a spoonful of soup, and you eagerly swallowed it, savoring the delicious broth as it slid down your throat. You hadn't realized just how hungry you were. "Even though we're complete opposites, you bring out my wild side," he said, his voice filled with affection. "You make me loosen up and enjoy life outside of school, something I rarely do. And in return, I help you stay calm and focused on your studies. I think we're a perfect match, don't you?"

You nodded, completely agreeing with him, as he lovingly fed you another spoonful of soup. "I love how you see it that way. It only makes me love you more," you replied, looking up at him with tired eyes that were growing heavier by the second. "Let's finish the soup, and then you can finally get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay," you smiled, feeling a sense of warmth and contentment as he leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

tags: @slayfics Lmk if you wanna be added

[lixie-phoria]

[10.0 americano fiasco] BETTER THAN REVENGE !

◂ previous | masterlist | next ▸

you would have thought that the campus walk ways would be empty considering the match that was about to start in less than fifteen minutes, everyone eager to get a good seat, but it's surprisingly crowded as you and hyunjin walk down the old, cobbled path.

"-and then changbin fell down smack on his ass. funniest thing that's ever happened during practice," hyunjin finishes his story, throwing his head back to laugh. "i wish we got that on camera."

the wind is cold, kissing your skin as it pushes back your hair, and you're slightly concerned at your friend's insistence to drink his iced americano despite the weather.

"you will never let him live it down, will you?"

"of course not!"

hyunjin's excitement is contagious, because you find yourself laughing along as he skips ahead, forcing you to take bigger steps too.

"sometimes i feel bad for him. but then i remember how he keeps stealing my protein powder!"

right. of course. every few days you are reminded your best friend is only a man whose brain is hard wired into thinking about two things - the gym and girls. specifically in that order.

"and-" here hyunjin stumbles over a crack on the ground, squealing a bit.

"careful or you're going to be the one falling on your ass."

he rolls his eyes playfully at your poke, correcting himself and removing the skip from his step before falling into line with you.

"anyways so-"

"hyunjin!"

you halt, turning back to see jeongin jogging down the path towards the pair of you.

"chan hyung said you should come back for some final strategy discussions!"

you hear your best friend groan beside you.

"we've discussed our plan a million times before!" he all but whines, stomping his leg like a toddler. "why does he want to go over it again?"

"not our choice, is it? the coach said we have to."

you pat hyunjin's arm as he slouches in defeat.

"it's fine hyune. i should probably go get a seat too or all the good ones will be taken."

"sure," he mumbles, spinning on one foot to sharply turn towards you. "bye-"

you see it happen in slow motion - hyunjin's mouth opening to finish his sentence when a large body collides into him from the back, sending the boy stumbling into you.

but you feel it before you see it - ice cold americano splashing all across the front of your white top, soaking the fabric and diffusing through it in a few seconds.

"sorry!"

you faintly hear a foreign voice apologize, their figure walking ahead without stopping to clearly notice the damage they had just caused.

"holy shit," jeongin whispers, wide eyes looking between you and hyunjin, who is also frozen in his spot, hand slapped across his mouth.

"that bitch."

the culprit is long gone, melting into the sea of people ahead, and you're still too scared to look down and see exactly how much of the drink had landed on you. but you can see hyunjin's now empty cup that had been filled nearly to the brim only a few seconds ago.

"yn-" hyunjin's voice is only a whisper, and from the horror painting his face you would have thought he had seen a ghost. "shit, i'm so sorry-"

"no time for that," jeongin interrupts, recovering first, and you turn to look at him. "hyunjin did you carry an extra t-shirt or sweatshirt with you?"

the boy shakes his head.

"just your luck," jeongin mutters as he shakes his head. "i have my spare jersey from last year. yn you can borrow that."

it's like a switch goes off in hyunjin's head as he stands straight, his horror slowly morphing into annoyance.

"that won't be necessary-"

"do you want her to freeze to death?"

"well obviously not-"

"then there's no time to waste."

"why can't we ask chan hyung or someone for their jersey? maybe-"

"i have my bag with me right now. do you want to go back to the lockers and explain to hyung what you were doing drinking an ice cold americano ten minutes before a match?"

hyunjin's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, searching for something to say before he slumps in defeat.

"yn are you fine with this?"

you shrug. you really didn't have a choice.

you didn't want to agree seeing the miserable look on your best friend's face, but the drink was really starting to soak through the cloth and the cold it brought was not welcomed by your bones. you could feel the goose bumps lining your skin.

and so you find yourself accepting the jersey from jeongin, trying to reassure hyunjin it wasn't his fault. but the boy wouldn't even meet your eyes.

"thanks jeongin."

he flashes you a reassuring smile before pulling hyunjin and the two are on their way, leaving you to walk to the washrooms alone.

and it isn't until you're in one of the stalls that you really realize it's jeongin's jersey, and it has his name printed on it in big bold letters.

oh.

it's jeongin's jersey, and it smells like him - the same pepper and vanilla mix you had caught on to the at the party.

it's jeongin's jersey, and it falls around you perfectly, but it's nowhere near as nice as it would look on him - highlighting all those muscles you had felt that night.

it's jeongin's jersey, and you're wearing it at his game, something you once used to do for yeonjun.

it's jeongin's jersey, and-

shut up!

you have to physically slap yourself, shaking your head as the sting spreads across your skin.

something was wrong with you. this wasn't that big of a deal. he was just helping you out. he probably doesn't even care.

yeah. he doesn't even care. that's right. it's okay, you shouldn't be flustered about it either, you think, shoving your own top into your bag and marching out determinedly. you were not going to let yang jeongin and his nice smelling jersey cloud your thoughts.

you were here for hyunjin today. he would have your full attention. you were going to support him and then go for lunch without thinking about-

"for fucks sake watch where you're going!"

you yelp in surprise as you face plant into a hard body, stumbling back in shock. it really wasn't a good day for you.

"i'm so sorr-"

"yn?"

you freeze.

no way.

"what are you doing here?"

no fucking way.

"...yeonjun?"

he's right there. in front of you. hair slightly tousled from when you crashed into him and eyes wide as he stares at you.

"yeonjun what-"

he saves you from your rambling by stepping closer, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"what are you doing?"

"is that yang jeongin's jersey?"

of course he noticed.

you want to turn right back around, dig your grave, and bury yourself alive.

"yn. are you fucking wearing jeongin's jersey right now?"

"no?"

you wish you were six feet under the ground.

"stop lying-"

"bye! gotta go!"

you push him aside, running down to occupy the first empty seat you see in the crowd of spectators, losing the boy somewhere at the back.

fuck. your. life.

taglist 1 - @thisisnotjacinta @jiisungllvr @hanjsquokka @abbiestearsricochet @adestayskz @thisrandombitch @adr1an4 @alnex05 @cheesemonky @endlessheadache @tiapatito202278ok @queen-in-the-shadows @heeee24 @chanceonceli @amesification @conwunder @weareapackofstrays @taejun-sunlix @lofasofabread @untilthesunrises @jinnie-ret @darlingz99 @kibs-and-bits @143lix @simp4myself @thisrandomgoofy15 @vixensss @luvkpopp @skz-streamer @luvenus702 @syds-dead

©lixie-phoria, 2024

[doe-writes-stuff]

A/N - My first foray into the wonderful world of Matthew 'Manwhore' Murdock. Thank you in advance for giving my stuff a try if you do happen to continue on!

CONTENT WARNINGS: Strong language

You didn't think walking home from your terrible date would lead to you defending an unconscious vigilante from a couple of teens with too much curiosity for their own good, but...well, this was Hell's Kitchen. What else did you expect?

I should have worn my goddamn sneakers.

Hollow clicks measured your path along the pavement. Sharp, determined steps. No matter how many times you tried adjusting your feet in the 3 inch open-toed heels adorning them, the pain wouldn't go away. Serves you right for not breaking them in for a few days before your date. Now, with no ride back home and a reluctance to waste money on a cab when you could simply walk the 5 blocks it would take to get you there—cabbies were charging out the ass nowadays—you were cursed to suffer the consequences of your lack of forethought.

Not a great place to be at two in the fucking morning.

The alternative of removing them entirely and going nearly barefoot across the sidewalk wasn't all that appealing. For one, your pantyhose would be swiftly ruined. Not to mention the possibility of stepping directly onto a used heroin needle or the uneaten remains of someone's discarded dinner along the way. No thanks. You'd risk the bastard of a blister and not even complain about it in the morning.

Not too much, at least.

Skipping your short cocktail dress in favor of something a bit more conservative saved you from the awkward form-fitted waddle it would have forced you into. The strappy little piece would have been wasted anyway on the lackadaisical, stoner thrift shop owner who'd shared a few drinks with you at the bar only a few minutes prior. Something told you it still wouldn't have kept his eyes from wandering to your red-headed, busty bartender countless times over the course of the night.

"Expectations weren't high to begin with." You remind yourself in a mutter, adjusting the purse strap a bit higher up on your shoulder, crossing another street and doing a routine sweep around to look out for any cars or people in your general vicinity. You coughed against the faint stench of stale cooking oil and car exhaust that always seemed to permeate this street corner.

Wincing past the pain radiating from the back of your heel, you take notice of a few boys who'd jay-walked over the street to now be several dozen feet in front of you, heading the same direction. They talked amongst themselves, their conversation too far or too quiet for you to hear. Hands in their pockets, they looked around frequently. Suspicious.

Teenagers, judging by their fashion choices. Likely out and about looking for trouble after sneaking out of the house. Despite the likelihood they weren't out for the most innocent of reasons, they weren't much of a concern. Nothing indicated they'd noticed you or, if they had, even cared about your presence. Still, should they decide to turn around and make your night a little too interesting, you figured your heels could be good for one thing: swinging with reckless abandon with their pointy ends facing them. If the threat of your heels didn't convince them to leave you alone, the can of pepper spray in your bag should be more effective.

But as luck would have it, they held no interest in you whatsoever. In fact, something turned the boys' heads towards an alley as they passed by up ahead. So much so, in fact, that they stopped completely and stared at whatever it is they saw, pointing and gesturing frantically. A frown wrinkled your face as they briefly conversed, before hurrying out of sight into the alley.

Just keep on walking, I really don't need this tonight, you thought bitterly, hoping despite all logic that they weren't about to commit a crime or do something equally nefarious that would require intervention. Home was only a few more blocks away, so close and yet just out of your grasp.

Curiosity begrudgingly gets the better of you. And maybe you were being too hasty in assuming the worst out of these boys. Perhaps they'd just seen a cat and were stopping to help the poor thing. Wishful thinking, but hey, if you manifested hard enough, maybe God would grace you with some peace tonight.

However, any thoughts of peace flew out the window as you stepped past the edge of the warehouse beside the alley and glanced in the direction the boys had gone. Because despite the hazy darkness of the wee morning hours, the building's side door was brightly lit with a security light, the back of the alley awash in pale yellow as a result.

And within that sickly illumination, you saw a figure prone on the ground, surrounded by the two boys standing beside them, looking down.

Alarm rose through you at the sight. You hadn't heard a scuffle, or any cries of pain, or anything to remotely hint that they'd just assaulted this person, but honestly you didn't know what else to think. And despite knowing that calling the police would likely be the wisest choice for your health in this situation, you doubted they'd arrive in time to prevent this person from straight up getting mugged or hurt further.

Seconds ticked by. You weren't stupid enough to so casually dive into danger like this, but you liked to believe that someone would do the same if ever you found yourself in a similar position. Besides, it didn't sit right with you to let a couple teen punks give Hell's Kitchen a worse reputation than it already had. This was your home too, damnit.

Scrabbling in your purse for the can of pepper spray you'd purchased for self defense, you throw caution and self-preservation to the wind and hurry as fast as you can down the alley towards them. The nerves in your feet protest with as much negative feedback as you thought they could possibly inflict, but the seriousness of what you were seeing gave you the strength to ignore them for now.

The closer you get, the more you can identify, like the way one of them toes at the individual's leg with a few gentle kicks, as if testing their awareness. The other teen pulls his phone out and seemingly snaps a picture. Snippets of their conversation can now be heard.

"-dare you to do it."

"Shouldn't we call the cops?"

"Fuck no! If you're gonna a pussy, I'll do it." You caught one of them saying with a laugh, crouching down to reach for the person's face.

"Hey!" You call with as much authority as you can muster, finally gaining a grip on your mace and lifting it from your purse to point at them. Their heads whip around to face you. "Take a step back! You two think hurtin' people is funny or somethin'?"

"What? This wasn't us!" The one who'd crouched beside the unconscious man says, standing in a rush and holding up his hands defensively. He looked no older than 15, if you had to guess, face full of acne and the sad beginnings of what you thought was his attempt at growing facial hair.

"Chill, lady. He was like that when we found him, and he's passed out. Can't hurt us." The other leaps to defend, gesturing wildly at the person still laying prone on the ground. A man who, you now realize in alarm, is dressed exactly like a certain vigilante rumored to be hunting the streets of Hell's Kitchen. The adrenaline that fueled your little interruption was now backed by a wave of chilled awe and apprehension.

What had you just gotten yourself into?

Before the revelation of who you had stumbled upon could fully hit you in force, one of the teens steps away and continues babbling. "It's the fucking dude on the news."

"All the more reason to stay the hell away from him, then." You say, swallowing past the rising feeling of regret coursing through your head, unable to help catching glances at the man that felt more a myth than reality. "A couple of kids like you shouldn't be poking around people or places like that."

"He was just laying here, and we wanted to look. I mean, come on, no way you don't wanna know who he is, right? Everyone does." He seems to plead with you to agree with him, young face torn between his burning curiosity and the opening at the top of your mace can. "The guy's been all anyone ever talks about around here."

"He's knocked out, so he wouldn't even know. Just a peek, that's all." The other one adds, crouching next to him as if to reach for the mask again, but he just shakes his head and looks at you. "We were gonna call the cops after. Maybe there's a reward for catching the guy, you know?"

The boys smile in that charming way boys in high school think they are, but you find yourself taking a quick step forward, startling them enough to get them both on their feet and stepping away from the masked man.

"The only thing you're gonna do is go the fuck home. Now." The warning comes out through gritted teeth, irritation clearly showing through and doing what you'd hoped it would. It felt a little extreme to be threatening teenagers, but they'd seriously do something stupid if you didn't get your point across. "Or try something, and see what a face full of mace feels like. After that I'm getting the cops involved, and I'll bet explaining that one to your parents is gonna be a delight."

"Fuck, ok, relax." Acne face says in a rush, rounding you and stepping past his friend to go back the way they'd come. Hands still, up, he looks at you like you were the gum he'd just stepped in. "We'll leave. Damn."

Thankfully without any further convincing, the two boys head off towards the entrance of the alley, muttering what you thought to be 'crazy bitch' under their breaths and glancing back at you and the vigilante. Eyes on them until they disappeared around the corner, you let out the air from your lungs that had been held there too long, eyes closing as the moment passed.

And here I thought a shitty date was the worst thing that could happen tonight...

Once the light-headedness had mostly dissipated, you slowly look down at the infamous Man in the Black Mask just a few inches from your feet.

Being up-close to the guy that had been giving the criminals lurking in the shadows pause for weeks on end was a rather surreal experience. Things like this didn't happen to you. Never. Your life was boring and dull and now you were standing over the unconscious man and wondering what the fuck you were supposed to do next.

A momentary flicker of fear slid down your spine, recalling rumors of the guy's brutality. A few pictures of the criminals the cops had picked up off the streets after a run-in with the Man in the Black Mask had circulated the internet. They hadn't been pretty, to say the least. Your hand toyed with the can of pepper spray, debating.

For the supposed boogeyman in the darkness, he looked like...just a normal guy. There was distinct muscle tone under all that black fabric, but he was certainly no body builder. Nothing a bit of dedication at the gym wouldn't give someone. Rough stubble framed his chin and in the yellow glow of the security light, what looked to be dried blood stained a streak from his nose down to his lip. He'd been in a fight sometime tonight.

The suit looked homemade, you noticed. Curious, but...made sense. There wasn't exactly a retail store for vigilantes, yet somehow it struck you that this guy had essentially put on an athletic shirt with zero combat protection, tied a cotton mask to his face, and then proceeded to beat the bad guys up night after night. You'd seen nerds at conventions with more detailed fits than him.

How'd he even see out of that thing anyway?

He still hadn't moved in all this time. Perhaps you should have been more nervous of him suddenly waking up and attacking you, but something told you that he wouldn't. Blind hope, perhaps, but still, something.

Slowly, the fear lowered just enough for you to crouch and, after much debate with yourself if this was really the smartest thing to be doing, you placed a gentle hand against the man's chest. Warmth. A subtle rise and fall had you relieved that he was breathing, if not conscious. Alive.

The cops didn't like him, and as a law-abiding citizen, neither should you. Hell, there could be some law against helping a vigilante out in the first place. Aiding and abetting? Were you risking a charge by chasing off those teens?

Something didn't feel right about allowing his identity to be exposed. He was doing good for Hell's Kitchen. Your coworker's sister's fiancé was saved from getting mugged according to Kathy which, in all honesty, should be taken with a grain of salt. But on the off chance he was doing more help than hurt in your community, you didn't see a reason to make his life harder than it was already.

...did this make you an accomplice? Ugh.

A glance up at the alleyway where you'd come from reminded you that anyone else could walk by and see this guy just laying here in the light. And the next one might not be as harmless as a teen looking to satisfy their curiosity. You weren't sure how he'd come to be here in the first place, but surely he hadn't intended to pass out where just anyone could walk up and lift up the mask. The briefest idea to lift the mask yourself and see who he was disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. Clearly he wore one for his own safety or maybe just to intimidate the bad guys, and if what you knew about him was true, he was out here for the right reasons. The last thing you'd do was get in his way of helping.

Another glance around at the small alley reveals a darkened corner that was out of sight from the sidewalk. It wasn't too far, and you doubted you'd be able to do much more than drag him that distance anyway. With a resolute sigh, you put your pepper spray back in your purse and shift to grab both of his arms by the wrist, attempting to pull him out of the light towards the wall to lean him against.

The moment you try moving him, you realize you'd underestimated how much effort this was going to take. Especially in heels and a dress. A curse escapes under your breath.

"Jesus..." You huff out a breath, shifting your grip once more to better accommodate his dead weight.

Your feet, which had previously been in pain in your heels, were screaming at you with torturous malice. Another couple tugs gave little by way of results.

"Now would be a great time to wake up and help me out here. Teamwork makes the dream work or whatever..." Unfortunately, he remained silent and unconscious.

You rethought your whole idea the longer you continued to try dragging him over to the wall, feeling the couple drinks you'd had less than half an hour ago the more you exerted energy, but you had already gained a little ground. Only a few more yards to go.

Finally figuring out that you'd have more leverage by lifting him from beneath his armpits, you managed to reach under him and pull with much more ease that way.

"Maybe lay off the protein and pick a salad some time." You gripe through tight lips.

The sack of potatoes that was the Man in the Black Mask still gave you a ton of trouble, but at least you were gaining by several feet with each pull rather than inches. This position also gave you a nose-full of the smell of sweat, washed cotton, and the faintest hint of the guy's preferred cologne, you thought. Really not the best combination of aromas but, in all honesty, still better than your date's pungent musky scent that you were half-convinced he'd bathed in prior to meeting you.

With one last frustrated grunt, you manage to prop his back up against the wall, settling him into a semi-comfortable sitting position. You panted, out of breath, stepping back to examine him one last time, smoothing down your dress.

He seemed steady enough, and hopefully no one else would come down this way looking for anything. It was all you could do for him, especially given your feet would likely fall off or catch fire at the rate you were going in these heels. Hissing in pain, you step back and remembered there were still 2 more blocks to walk before you got home.

With one last look at the vigilante, you shook your head and sighed. "Just...don't get killed, ok? Hell's Kitchen is safer with you in it."

A subtle shift in his stature and a low groan at the back of his throat alerts you to his growing awareness. Without the adrenaline to keep you from enacting on your flight response at the impending awakening of the vigilante, you swear under your breath and get the hell out of the alley, hoping he was still too out of it to notice your swift departure.

With any luck, he'd be too disoriented to figure out what had happened. Heels clicking in a mad fury down the sidewalk, you forced the man in the mask out of your mind with great effort, already calculating the number of painkillers you'd have to take to be able to walk tomorrow.

Flickers of awareness. Not enough to fully rouse him at the time, but a small iota of stimulus enough for Matt to remember once he awakened. As he roused, his back propped up against the roughness of brick and the tell-tale alleyway stench of trash and rust filling his nose, he couldn't help but mull over what he could recall.

A woman's sharp voice. Sensations of movement around and above him. Something had touched him. And again, a woman's voice, this time fainter and quiet, but close.

Don't get killed, ok?

It was difficult to tell what he'd truly heard and what was his mind conjuring what it wanted to.

Ignoring the many aches and pain in his body as he stood from his seat against the wall, Matt noticed more and more things seemingly out of place. Two similar male scents. The subtlest hint of sharp spice in the air—pepper spray. Not strong enough to have been used, but at least present nearby.

Coming back to his senses was quick, though not as fast as he would have liked. By morning, the taste of brewing coffee was so strong in the air of Hell's Kitchen that there was nowhere he could go to avoid it. The blatant lack of it, coupled with the low foot-traffic on the sidewalk around the corner meant he hadn't been out for long. It was still early, before the rest of the city awakened in full force. A small relief.

Speaking of foot-traffic...one set of steps was growing more distance with a noticeable haste—clicking of cheap, hardened rubber. Heels, probably. A woman?

Sweetness clung to him. Another soft inhale brought the scent of perfume into his nostrils, a mix of citrus and floral. It clung to his clothing pleasantly. His head tilted, putting together what he knew and the vague words that he thought he recalled.

Almost out of reflex, he lifted a hand to his make-shift mask, feeling that it was in the same place he'd left it before. Nothing felt out of place, nor as if it had been removed and replaced by someone else. To his knowledge, his identity hadn't been compromised. Still, that left him with many questions.

He couldn't recall losing consciousness in the position he'd awakened in. You...you'd moved him over to the wall? Defended him, perhaps, if the clues were adding up like he thought they were.

The sound of your retreat was still audible from this distance, his anonymous protector no doubt hurrying home. Beneath the mask, Matt's brow raised with interest.

Who were you?

A/N -I guess I'm just testing the waters of Matt's characterization with this one and seeing how I wanna play with this world. If you'd like to see more, please let me know <3

[fandomwritingbit]

I feel like if William found out that one of the cute, kind, unassuming girls that works for him was also serial killer he would definitely get horny about it. And of course when he implies to her she knows she's like "Take's one to one, Mr. Afton~" They would both just sooo messed up and fuck about it I think

Hello! Sorry this took so long, I wasn't planning to publish this 'til next month but a sudden urge to finish it struck me and here it is!

Serial killer William Afton x (afab)serial killer reader

warnings: murder, somewhat glorified, reader and William are both fucked up

It’s been 6 months since you started at the diner and by now you were more than well acquainted with your role. It came relatively naturally to you this whole customer service thing, your brightly coloured scrunchies bobbing as you kept patrons happy and balanced everything that needed doing by the end of your shift. To cut it short, you were absolutely thriving. Your bosses liked you, so much so that you’ve had your first raise already, it was all going just swimmingly. It’s just the perfect job, no one would ever think anything bad of you here, you’re just too damn cute, too damn charming. It’s really an excellent cover. 

The diner gave you more than just cover though. You've learnt some very helpful skills over these months, like what the best chemicals for cleaning are, how to remove even the most stubborn of stains and how to dispose of the things that just couldn’t be cleaned. 

At the back of the restaurant for example. Like most eateries has huge skips, always full of the week’s waste and secluded enough to offer a window of opportunity. It was very easy to get in as you had a key, that and the knowledge that your cheap-arsed employers didn’t install cctv there, and so of course you put the window of opportunity to use. Several nights of fun easily hidden from prying eyes in black bin-liners and blending in with the rest. How could it be that easy?

But, what you hadn’t considered was that perhaps you weren’t the only one using such a perfect place. 

~

He stumbled through the door like a drunkard, the high of his activity so delicious, it made his fingers tingle and a cold electric colour tint his vision. He props the doors open with a brick,  reaching into the diner to grab what he needed to get rid of, his shoes slipping in the red slick dripping from his form. God, it’s all over him, staining his shirt and leaving footprints on the floor, a nightmare to clean up, but he wasn’t worried. He had all night to sort it out, not like any of his lay-about employees would be in a hurry to chuck any rubbish out anytime soon. 

He grabs the bag, moving it over to the bins and opening the one furthest from the door. Taking a bag off the top, he undoes the half-arsed knot and sets about getting rid of his evidence, a baseball cap, one of his branded teddies and a blunt statuette; each smeared in the blood on his hands. He packs them into the bag and again ties it up. But he’s too careful to leave it at that, and removes the bags closer to the bottom, intending to shove the incriminating one down where no one would find it. And it’s there at the very bottom of the skip that he sees it. It’s such a sobering sight that he freezes for a moment, confusion flooding his features. 

A kitchen blade, a large one stained with crusted blood, he was sure of it. That browning red was so familiar, Hell it was all over him now, the smell very apparent. But that wasn’t his. The bins were emptied only two days before and whilst he is an efficient man, he wasn’t that good. He reaches down to touch it, but stops inches away. Right next to the knife was something else. As he plucks it from the rubbish, it all clicks into place. 

~

At the end of a busy shift, you walk down the staff hallway more than relieved, absentmindedly taking off your apron a few paces before your locker. There was nothing special about to day, but it was fucking rushed, hardly a moment to breathe and right now nothing sounds better than going home and spending you day off in bed. When you’re done shoving your apron inside the locker and slinging your bag over your shoulder, your body instinctively tenses at an awareness of a presence behind you. So you shut and lock the door as quickly as you can, before facing your boss. 

“Oh hi, Mr Afton. Just about to clock off.” You smile brightly, so sweetly that he almost doubts himself, almost reconsiders what he’s about to ask you. Almost.  

“Don’t yet. Come into my office, I want to talk to you.” There was an amused tone to his voice, like there was a hidden joke you weren’t aware of and did not understand. But that was nearly always the case with Mr Afton, everyone said so, said that they dreaded when he was on shift because they couldn’t tell if he liked them or was a hair away from sacking them. And right now, you feel the same. But surely he liked you? How could he not?  

“Yeah, okay.” You try to keep your voice obliging and happy, following the nod of his head for you to walk past him, down the hall and into his office. You’ve been in here before, using his stapler on some leaflets or asking for extra change in the till. It’s always a cold room, hardly decorated and a little imposing, very much in line with the man himself. 

There’s a heaviness in the air that you don’t want to break, so you wait for Mr Afton to ask you to sit, watching him from your seat as he leans against his desk. He’s enjoying this too much, the slightly startled expression on your pretty face, like you have no idea what this is about, like you’re thinking about anything you could have possibly done wrong. He almost believed you.

He half smiles before breaking the silence with small talk. “Been busy today?” He wants this to be slow, but the temptation to just out you prickles at him.

You blink, a little surprised at his casualness, it was out of character but not exactly unwelcome. “Yeah, pretty crazy. We managed alright though.” You hope he’s asking for the sake of asking, not expecting you to recall anything too specific because the shift was a complete blur. 

He hums, a handsome smirk spreading across his face, “Well I’m glad. Chris was supposed to be in today, he called in sick last minute. Which I’m sure had nothing to do with today’s footy match.” You giggle, yeah, Chris wasn’t the brightest for that one. His grin fades as he looks thoughtful for a second. “Some people are so good at lying, it’s insane. Don’t you think?”

Your eyes go wide in suspicion. “Yeah, I suppose so… We all do it sometimes.” You keep smiling in an effort to keep this conversation light. 

“Not you though. You’re too honest, there’s hardly a sick day to be found on your record.” You nod, thinking that maybe this was a compliment, or commendation, maybe he was going to reward you for such good work? His posture then changes as he again grins. “If you were going to lie it must be about something very… serious.” He watches the way you subconsciously shake your head and it tickles him, you really have no clue where this is going to go and it’s just delightful. 

Unable to reach his conclusion you just out right ask. “Uh… what’s this about, Mr Afton? Have I done something wrong?” 

“Undoubtedly.” He continues teasing. ‘Something wrong’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, though it would be hypocritical for him to say so. The glee he’s getting from dragging this out is immense, but he’s just dying to see that cute little face of yours drop when he reveals your disgusting hobby. He sighs, “I found something the other night, you know. Something very interesting.”

Your eyes narrow as you look at him in disbelief, maybe a small part of you knows just from the malice in his eyes that he has you because a sudden dread seizes hold of you. “Sorry- I don’t follow…” You’re confused, he couldn’t know what you’d done, he just couldn’t but if he did… 

“You’ll get there, sweetheart.” He speaks mockingly before slowly standing and walking to the other side of his desk and opening the top drawer, humming a tune as he does so. You watch him fingers tapping against each other in anxiety, you can’t help but notice the heavy looking paperweight on his desk, it’s a cube carved out of some polished stone, the corners sharp.

“This.” His words force your gaze from the object to him, and the small piece of fabric pinched between his finger and thumb. Just continuing to stare at it, it doesn’t trigger anything, until he tosses it down onto the desk right in front of you. 

It’s a scrunchie. A light pink scrunchie, patterned with crusted blood. And then it hits you like a freight train. You can see yourself wearing it, two low ponytails resting on your shoulders that night. People told you how cute they looked on you. How didn’t you notice it was missing… Well, your mind was on other things that night.

You move your eyes to him, goosebumps all over your skin as you mind races. And at seeing your strained expression he laughs, unexpectedly and meanly. “God, your pupils- that is really something.” You look crazed, frantic, maybe even terrified, it was like nothing he’d ever seen yet still achingly familiar, it's frightening in the most delicious way, making his trousers cling to his growing erection. 

“I…” You start but instantly falter, gaze flicking between your boss and this paperweight. The darkest part of you is frightened into planning by this discovery. It’s far from you but you could reach it if you tried, just across the table, you just need to wait until he’s distracted but right now his attention is solely focused on you. You just need to wait-

“You’d never be quick enough.” He cuts through your train of thought like he could read your fucking mind. “I’m not completely stupid, though perhaps scaring you into a corner isn’t the best idea.” His tone is full of ridicule.

“What do you want?” You say hoarsely, too much emotion in your mind for you to think clearly. If he knew what you did -what you are- why are you here? Surely he’d have called the police and by now you’d be in an interview room surrounded by coppers. Surely, they’d have already found your pattern and linked as much to you as they could. But no. You’re here, in his office.

“I’m not here to bargain with you, love.” He chuckles, “I’ve seen where you live, there’s very little you could offer me.” Though he can certainly think of something very sweet you could offer him.

“-You’ve been to my house?” You say slowly, his mocking passing you by somewhat. This was too much to learn at once. 

“I had to do some research. You know, a knife in a bin is one thing. A fella in a river put a name to the weapon. But then,” His eyes are wide with animation as he talks, “I remembered another man in the same river, a few weeks ago, stabbed to all hell. Then I found another… I must say, you’ve done well not to be caught.” 

“A-re you gonna call the police?” Your voice cracks on the first syllable, making the rest of your question quiet.

He pauses in thought, the silence tortuous. “...No. I can’t have them poking around. I don’t want any other unsavoury acts coming to light.” 

At those words you suddenly dawn to a realisation, that look in his eye, that devious glee that at first you thought was just teasing. Was something else. Something very dark. It makes you exhale, an odd and sinister calm settling over you, enough for you to relax your posture in this chair and glace around the room. You know what you’re looking for and find it easily, a missing persons poster pinned to a pinboard just on his left. 

“That kid…” You speak lowly, utterly enthralling him. And he follows your eye-line to said poster, his eyebrows raising slightly. “He’s dead?” The question is pretty sure on your lips, a cruel confidence to them that showed the spark to you he’d been looking for. 

“Probably.” It’s noncommittal, but amused and you can just see the disturbed actions in his eyes. It’s crazy, like a monster in human skin.

“You killed him, didn’t you?” The words are so weighted, they tear aggressively from your throat, an unintentional emphasis that cuts through the room like a razor. And the harshness of his grin is more than confirmation. “You’re a fucking murderer.” You laugh incredulously, disbelief melting away by the second. 

“Takes one to know one.”

[heartfullofleeches]

I see alien and conspiracy theorist reader who is also hilariously oblivious/ refuses to believe the fact Alien is an alien. Like they're too OBVIOUS about it and it doesn't line up with their theories about what the ACTUAL aliens walking among us are like. Like, it can't be Alien, they don't have crab claws or a lizard tongue or anything. They don't even have a tail rendered invisible by hologram, but Alien doesn't mind when reader grabs their ass to check.

This is exactly where I was going with that-

Alien wouldn't even be in reader's radar for potential suspects. Their frequent insistence they're just a regular human guy is a little suspicious, but no real alien would walk around wearing a mask like his because it'd just draw unwanted attention to them. Writes off their glowy bones as paint. The fact they're more flexible than rubber is just a genetics thing.

Alien thinks it's nice to have some recognize them as human at first - but eventually they start to think how hot cool it would be to be the extraterrestrial reader scraps to a table in their study and grills for hours about their anatomy and the place they originate from.

-

"Did you bring the stuff?"

"Yea, gimme a sec."

Fiddling with the gate to the laboratory, your assistant turns their back to you as they retrieve a small vial from their pocket. Alien pushes the gum they'd been chewing against the wall of their mouth, gathering the saliva collected from their glands on their tongue and filling the bottle with the blackish substance. They grab a bag of white powder from another pocket and dumps it into the small opening. The concoction bubbles, fumes crawling along the cylinders walls as they face you once more. They push you behind them - sealing your body with theirs as they raise their fist.

Hurling the vial, its glass shatters on impact in an explosion of black sludge and white smoke. The slime eats away at padlock holding the gate closed and enough of the wall for you to poke your head through before Alien finally kicks what remains open. They stand off to the side, bowing as they extend their arm forward.

"After you."

Your eyes linger on the smoke wisping into the air. "What... was that?"

"My spit. Mix it with baking soda it becomes corrosive..... or was it acidic?"

"...Right. Well, let's get this over with before anyone arrives. We're lucky this was all this place really has in terms of security." You ease past Alien who skips behind you as you march towards laboratory's doors. Not wasting what little time you have, you pull off your backpack as you walk - removing the test tube brought with you from its protective sleeve. Alien eyes the teal tinted fluid sloshing around in the container curiously - a strange sense of unease hitting their stomach like a brick.

"So.... if I'm allow to ask questions - what uh... what are we doing here again?"

You hold the vial up for then to see - contents fluorescent in the moon light. "I found this strange substance on a tee shirt I left in my bathroom. It's oddly sweet, but left my mouth with a tingle sensation after I tasted it."

Beads of sweat roll from their neck down their shirt. "You... tasted it?"

Alien thinks for a while. They had broken into your house while you were away. They found your shirt in your bathroom. It smelled just like you. Kinda tasted like you too. They thought they cleaned up everything after they were done. They did not.

"Well I had to make sure it wasn't something I ate. This is clearly a sign. Once I get my hands on the microscopes in this lab I'll finally have concrete proof of aliens!"

Alien snatches the vial from you and throws it into the tree-lining. "On second thought let's just go hunting for aliens like normal people."

"What the hell-"

Alien tightly grips your shoulders. "You can have another taste once we're official, but you are not putting my fluids under any lenses until we are engaged!"

[coldfanbou]

Daddy's Girl

So I'll be honest this piece was just me having some fun with the concept of Jihyo being submissive and calling OC daddy. There's self-degradation, a bit of a titjob, the daddy kink of course. Enjoy if that's what you like. Also, I couldn't think of a title.

Length 1.2K

Jihyo x Mreader

Jihyo skipped around the store; as you turned back to look at her, you saw her large breasts bouncing as she went from one foot to the other. Her hair clips and short hair gave her a youthful appearance that clashed against her mature body. She notices something on one of the shelves as you turn the corner. "Daddy! Can I get this?" She yelled. Immediately you turn and dash over. 

"Jihyo, I told you not to call me that in public." 

"But daddy, I want you to get me this." She says as she pulls a pack of balloons shaped like pigs from the store shelf.

"If you stop calling me that, I'll get it for you." 

"Okay, honey." You sigh as she grabs your arm and pulls you along. You never expected Jihyo to be the type to act like this, but you found out pretty quickly. The rest of your shopping trip went smoothly, and as you returned home, Jihyo looked through her bags for her balloons. "Daddy, where are they?" 

"Check the big bag."

"I can't find it." 

"We'll find it when we get home." Arriving home, you carry nearly all the bags, so you don't have to make another trip to the car. Once inside, Jihyo immediately starts looking for her balloons. When she finds them, she rips the packaging and pulls one out.

"Daddy, look how well I can use my mouth." She says as she inflates the balloon quickly. You couldn't help but chuckle at her comment. 

Turning around to look at Jihyo, her cheeks are full of air as she continues to fill the balloon with air. "I already know you can use your mouth well." You respond. At your comment, Jihyo loses focus; the balloon flies from her hand and zips around the room as the air inside rushes out.

"Daddy!" Jihyo is annoyed that her hard work has gone to waste.

"Don't use that tone with me, Jihyo."

"But!" 

"Don't test me." 

"Daddy's a meanie." You both laugh, knowing what the other is thinking.

"That’s it, Jihyo, you're getting punished." You sit down on the couch and pat your thighs.

"Don't be mean, Daddy."

"You know the rules, Jihyo." Without any resistance, Jihyo lays across your lap. You pull down her fuzzy pajama bottoms revealing her bare ass. Your hand rubs firmly against her ass before you pull back and give it a harsh smack. You follow it up with another quick smack.

Jihyo whines from the hit. "Not so rough, Daddy."

"Are you going to be a good girl?"

"I'll be a good girl Daddy; I will."

"You're going to need to prove it." Letting go of Jihyo, she assumes position in front of you. As she pulls down your pants and boxers in one smooth motion, her small hand takes hold of your cock, giving it a few strokes. "Daddy's already so hard." Jihyo inches closer to your cock, sticking her tongue out and licking the head. Her tongue waves side to side along the tip of your cock. Jihyo's eyes observe you, seeing if her actions draw any reaction. When they don't, she takes in the head of your cock; her tongue swirls around it slowly as she strokes your shaft. "I love Daddy's cock; it's the only one for me." She mumbles as she works the tip of your cock. 

"You're such a good girl; you know exactly what Daddy likes." You moan

Jihyo stops stroking your shaft to lift her long sleeve; her big tits hang nicely and bounce as she does. "Do you want me to use my big tits to massage your hard cock, Daddy?"

"You know I do."

"Daddy's so naughty." Jihyo removed her shirt, her brown nipples erect as she looked up at you with an innocent face. As she places your cock between her breasts, she licks your tip. With a shiver down your spine, you moan her name. Jihyo smiles as she presses her tit together; as she starts to stroke your cock with them, she laughs. "Daddy really loves my tits."

"Of course I do; they're soft."

"I make sure to moisturize them every day just for you, Daddy." 

"You're such a good girl, Jihyo, such a good girl." You moan as your brain starts to shut down from the pleasure. "Daddy's going to cum soon," you warn.

"I want to drink all of Daddy's warm cum,"

"You can have it all, Jihyo," you respond. Jihyo's mouth latches onto the tip of your cock as she continues to work the length of your cock with her soft breasts. She moves faster as your cock begins to throb. Soon she stops moving her breasts and forces more of your cock into her mouth. You let go and start filling Jihyo’s mouth, cum leaks from the corners of her mouth and runs down her cheeks.  Jihyo drinks every bit that she can. Using her tongue to gather any cum on your cock as she leaves. Jihyo wipes her cheeks with her fingers, collecting any stray cum and then cleaning her fingers. She opens her mouth to show you she didn't leave a drop. "You did a great job Jihyo. I think you deserve a reward."

"Does that mean-"

"Yes, it does," you say as you cut her off. 

Jihyo peppers you with kisses, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, daddy!" She grabs your hand and runs to the bedroom. Throwing herself on the bed, Jihyo raises her ass for you and uses her right hand to spread her wet lips. "Come on, Daddy! I want it!" 

As you get in position behind her, you ask, "What's the magic word?"

"Plea-ah!" Before she can finish, you drive your cock into Jihyo. As her ass presses against your pelvis, you smack it. "Daddy, don't just leave it inside. Move!"

"Don't rush things just yet, Jihyo." You slowly pull out before thrusting your cock back in. Jihyo's body jerks forward, her tits swaying. "Tell me how much you like Daddy's cock."

As you slam against Jihyo's body, she starts, "I love how Daddy's cock feels in my pussy. I-fuck, I need Daddy's cock more." Jihyo's moans increase in intensity as you speed up. "Fuck me! I want Daddy to plow my little pussy. I only want Daddy's cock; Daddy's cock is the only one for me. Ah! Fuck!” Jihyo started to slur her words as you continued fucking her. “Daddy, I want you to fuck me until I'm just a little cumdump! I'm Daddy's cumdump! I'm Daddy's cumdump!" She screamed as your cock moved through her pussy, knocking against her womb. 

"You're my good little girl Jihyo," you said through gritted teeth. "You're all mine, and I'm going to fill you with all the cum you could ever want." A few more thrusts, and you decide to ram your cock as deep as possible. At the entrance of her womb, you pour your cum into her. Jihyo's body gives out, and you hold onto her hips to keep her ass up.

"Thank you for the cum Daddy," you can hear her repeating as you get closer to her face. You fall on your side, bringing Jihyo with you. 

"You're such a good girl, Jihyo. Daddy loves you."

"I love you too, Daddy." Jihyo has a soft smile as she drifts off into a long slumber with your cock still buried in her.

[knnichs]

hello!! could i please req for a drabble w zayne? (they/them) reader is an overachieving hunter, often exhausting themself after every mission, and is v critical w themself and dr. zayne just comes around to confront them abt it since they've also missed an appointment or two with him^^

thank you in advance~ i understand if ever you won't be able to write this!

𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐩 𝐬𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐦 ( 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 )

     —   character(s) :   zayne

     —   character(s) are in a relationship with reader, gn!reader, overachieving reader with some mentions of/implied self degradation, may trigger negative thoughts, possible,, slight 4th wall breaking for narrating, this is a work of fiction

      fluff     ,     hurt / comfort     .      word count : 0,8k

hi op :(( i hope you're doing okay!! you're doing your best and all your efforts r noticed!! i hope this can cheer you up a bit

Life is certainly unfair when you feel as if you’re the only hunter actually doing the job for the entire city. When you take on missions, day after day, because nobody else wanted to do it themself. It’s unfair because your co-worker, Xavier, gets to spend his time sleeping in instead of helping you because your company decided not to approve of your 2 day break.

What a great way to end the week.

Knowing you’d have to work once again tomorrow, and the day after, and be required to clear harder missions just for that pay raise you wanted made you feel just a bit burdened. As if Linkon, or the world, depended on you to protect the hundreds of civilians just because you were trained to do so. Don’t get me wrong; You like being a hunter, it’s just the fact it's so demanding. Being called for missions day to day, sometimes you’re being brought back to HQ at the most random times of the day, or night just for a silly meeting. 

The burnout is inevitable. The stress will always be there, but your determination’s spark will not be as bright as before–leaving you to be lost in the dark tunnels of your mind, your heart. 

It doesn’t help that your superiors have noticed you slacking off work as well. You’re an excellent hunter, dealing with things no one else could just because they were scared. You fought, and fought, and fought. Even on the days you felt that you were just going to give up. You were scared too.

But everything feels different today. Like how a usual cup of coffee someone would order was done wrong because of the high amount of customers. How a pastry dish would come out undercooked because the chef let it bake for a much shorter time in the oven. How your boss would just keep forcing you to come in even if you worked overtime for almost a week straight.

This was your breaking point, you knew it.

And it was definitely evident when you came back home.

Zayne had just come back from his shift in the hospital–for once he was shocked you came home much later than him. Quite angry with you too, angry and disappointed, and you’d expect he had another toxic day handling patients and their families. But it was because of you.

It sounds bad, it really does. So when you open the door you hesitate the tiniest bit. Why wouldn’t you? You skipped 3 of your appointments with him the past week because of you working unnecessary overtime. He had 3 appointments with you where he could do something so much better than wasting his time waiting for you. That’s what you thought at least.

Instead of waiting for you to get in, he opens the door for you instead. Greeting you with a “good evening” in a tone you can't decipher. You wait for the conversation–the scolding to start but he doesn’t dare to speak after getting your bag and help you get comfortable. There’s food on the table–your favorites–and you can already hear the tub fill up with water.

You get in once Zayne says you can. The water is warm, not enough to burn you but enough to remove the tension from your body. There are some bubbles slowly forming to calm you down. He knocks on the door, saying something you can’t quite understand. You feel like you can fall asleep.

Zayne is sitting on the couch, his figure relaxed, you still can’t read how he’s feeling. 

“You missed your appointments.” He says, sighing towards the end. He shakes his head as he pats a seat beside him. You take a plate and start eating. For the entire week, you didn’t realize you were this hungry.

“Did I? Sorry.” He scoffs, you take another bite of the cookie.

He looks sad, concern and worry written all over his face. Your wellbeing has always become a first to him. You were important to him and Zayne needed to show that to you somehow.

“I care about you, and you know I understand any decision you make, at all.” You nod, putting the food down first to focus on his words.

“Did… Something happen?” 

Being a hunter is demanding, you know that. You both know that. Being a doctor is demanding as well, Zayne forgets to take care of himself from time to time, you two aren’t that different from each other. Might as well make this easy for him.

He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t say a single thing. He nods and looks at you with those bright eyes, attentive, listening to every word that falls from your mouth. And once you’ve been reduced to what you’d call a “mess”, with tears falling onto your cheeks and damp shirt, he pulls you into a hug. His hand on your hair, just holding you in the dim living room.

I’ve got you, he says. You’re perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

characters belong to their respective companies. everything is written by staarri - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.

[player1064]

Footy RPF Fictober, day 6 - Different sport AU

also available on ao3

shoutout to the carraville server for brainstorming what sports they could do in this one........... im literally no thoughts head empty just imagining gary in a gymnast's outfit. tbh.

---

Something that nobody tells you about the Olympics is how boring it is. You spend four years training for what ultimately comes down to a couple of days’ worth of events.

Jamie does alright for himself in national competitions – more than just alright actually, alright doesn’t get you picked for team GB – and he’s had his fair share of European medals. Even at the international level, he’s lost track of how many times he’s made the finals at the World Athletics Championships (maybe it’s not polite to brag. But who cares – he’s worked hard to get where he’s got, he’s allowed to toot his own horn a little).

The Olympics, though… they’re a different beast. It’s his second go-around and if you’re just going off of placement then technically it’s been worse than the first. He’d not made it out of the heats for the steeplechase and he’d come dead last in his semi final for hurdles. But he’d got new PBs for both, so it’s not been a complete waste of time.

It does mean that he’s been stuck loitering around the Olympic village with nothing to do while he waits for the closing ceremony to come around. He works his way through the books he’d brought along with him, he gets to know all the other sorry bastards who are in the same situation as him, and he goes to watch whatever random events the Team GB people can get him tickets for.

That’s the one highlight of it, really. Usually Jamie’s so locked in to the world of athletics that he forgets other sports actually exist, that there’s people who actually earn a living off of, like, boats. Or beating other people up.

Or, as it would turn out, gymnastics. The first time Jamie shows up to watch it he’s expecting to see a load of young girls jumping around in sparkly leotards – not really his thing, but he can appreciate it from an athletic point of view. Instead, though, he’s met with a lot of very muscular men performing routines that he can’t tear his eyes away from.

The British team earn themselves bronze medals, too, and it’s far enough removed from Jamie’s own sport that he can skip feeling jealous and just be impressed. So he asks if he can get tickets for the next day. And the next.

There’s this one guy on the team. He must be around Jamie’s age, maybe a couple of years older, and Jamie’s pretty sure he’s not smiled once the entire games. He’s tall for a gymnast, though really not that tall at all, and his legs. Jesus fuck, those legs. His arms, too, and his chest – just every bit of him, actually.

He’s in the next event – individual all-round – and he doesn’t place. But then at the next one he bags himself a silver for the rings, and he just misses third for the vault (Jamie’s only just learnt the scoring system for this sport but he’s certain he was robbed). And then he’s not in the next event, and when Jamie leans over to ask another team GB spectator where he is they look at him like he’s stupid and tell him “he’s already done all his disciplines”.

So he politely waits for the British lad to be done with his bit (gotta support the side, even if it’s not the British lad he’d been hoping to see), then he high-tails it out of there and goes back to mope around the village.

Neville, he’s learnt by now. Gary Neville. He’s been asking around the team GB lot to find out what people know about him (the usual stuff – name, what part of the village he’s staying in, does he like men, how old is he, please for the love of god tell me he likes men, that sort of thing), and it’s not a lot. He sounds like a bit of an anti-social prick actually, so focused on his sport that he doesn’t have much time for other people.

Sporty family, apparently. His brother plays football for Manchester United (Jamie makes a mental note to avoid football talk when they eventually get to speak), and his sister plays netball for England. Gary is somehow (especially considering that Jamie’s just watched him snag two Olympic medals) the least successful of the three.

There’s a bunch of fast food places in the Olympic village – kind of stupid, considering what professional athletes usually eat, but also kind of genius considering the amount of people who’ll be in need of comfort food. It’s in one of these that Jamie manages to accidentally-on-purpose run into him.

“It’s Gary, right?” he says to introduce himself, all casual-like. “Surprised our paths’ve never crossed before. I’m Jamie, but most people just call me Carra. Athletics.”

Gary squints at him, frowning. There’s a little line at the centre of his brow that Jamie hadn’t noticed when he’d been watching him from the stands. “Right,” he says slowly, like he’s not quite sure why Jamie’s talking to him. “Hi. Were you waitin’ to order, or…?”

“Nah, not too big on Chinese. Just – was walkin’ by and I saw you, thought I’d congratulate you on the medals.”

“Oh! Thanks, yeah, obviously I’m really proud, and pleased for my whole team too I s’pose… erm, I’ve not had much time to watch the athletics, that all go alright?”

Jamie shrugs. “As expected.”

“Right. Well, nice to have—”

Gary takes a step as if to leave. Jamie takes a step too, so that he can’t. “Didn’t fancy going back up there today to cheer your mates on?”

His face scrunches up with displeasure as if Jamie’s just suggested he walk over hot coals. “It’s my rest day,” he says, like that’s reason enough not to go.

To be honest, Jamie can’t really judge. He’s been avoiding the other track events too.

“D’you want some company?”

“You what?”

“With yer resting.” Jamie looks around the village, gestures vaguely at the other athletes milling about like we both know they’re all doing it too. Then, in case the problem was less the principle of the thing and more that Jamie hadn't made himself clear enough, he adds, “in your room. Would you like to rest, with me, in your room. Or mine, I’m not fussy.”

Gary blinks. “Are you comin’ on to me?”

“Jesus Christ, what else would I be doin’? I’m fit, you’re fit – in both senses of the word –” with that, Jamie adds a wink. It may be over the top, it may be sort of cringe-worthy, but he’s never had any complaints about that sort of thing before. Someone even once called him cute for it. “Why not give it a go? If it’s shite then you won’t have to see me for the next four years anyway.”

“You’re a real charmer, aren’t you?” Gary shakes his head, then looks him over consideringly. Jamie feels a bit awkward under his analytical gaze; he puffs his chest out a bit, tries to stand a little taller.

Then, Gary shrugs. “Yeah, alright then. But if you break one of these fuckin’ – flimsy little beds, you’re paying for the damage. Deal?”

[madhatterbri]

Crazy in Love | N.J.

Summary: Together by blackmail, Nick and Y/N seem to be falling for the other.

Author's Note: Nicholas Jackson mafia AU.

Nick Jackson Masterlist

AEW Masterlist

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl @magicalbuttertarts @theworldofotps

Malachi looked at his watch. Nick should have been back by now. He said he only needed a few minutes. That was half an hour ago. The younger brother sighed worriedly. What could be taking so long at the jewelry store? He argued with himself before walking inside.

"Brother?" Malachi asked when he reached him.

Nick hummed in response. Different styles of rings were laid out in front of him. The salesperson before him tried to convince him to buy the most expensive ring. The mafia leader ignored her. He stared at the rings for a few more seconds before turning to his brother. "Which one would look good on Y/N?"

"For Y/N? Nick, I don't remember an event coming up. I-"

His brother's piercing blue eyes stopped his train of thought. Nick wasn't there to listen to his brother's ramblings. Y/N would be leaving from work soon and Malachi had to drive her home.

"Ah, yes, Y/N would love that one. It's her favorite color and brings out her eyes," Malachi finally answered and pointed to the ring. The salesperson looked disappointed that it wasn't the most expensive one. Nick pulled out the cash and handed it to the woman.

"Keep the change," Nick told her. A smile quickly replaced the scowl of disappointment. Y/N's ring was in a black box and simple white bag. The jewelry store's name is written on the side.

As the brothers walked back to the limo, Nick turned to his brother. "Don't tell her what you saw today. I know the friendship that you two have struck up. And no telling Matt,"

Malachi could barely hide his smile. He simply nodded.

Y/N ignored her friend's teasing. They were trying to get information about the new man in her life. This could be the only reason behind her change. Once dressed in high heels and a dress, the teacher now only dressed in a shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.

"There is just no one here to impress," Y/N assured them. This was the truth. No one could hold a light to Nick. Her mind drifted off to him. She swore she felt her heart skip a beat. Despite their beginnings, she was down bad, and she knew she never wanted to come up.

Her friend left her classroom when she realized she wouldn't get any information. Besides, it was Friday. The weekend was upon them, and they'd have a break from their students. Y/N looked from her classroom window. Malachi stood by the back doors of the limo and waited for her.

Y/N walked out of the school after the majority of the teachers and students were gone. She wore a long black trench coat with Nick's favorite lingerie underneath. Malachi raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He opened the door for her. Y/N thanked him and slid inside.

"Your home, Y/N?" Malachi asked. He knew the answer. The weekends were spent with her at Nick's apartment. Besides, it wasn't the first time she saw her in this trench coat. The blush on her cheeks was the only answer he needed.

As the sun was setting, Malachi parked in front of his luxury apartment complex. Y/N thanked him again and walked inside. A bald man with a long black beard stood behind a desk.

"Cutler," the woman smiled at him. She expected some sort of joke. It was nice sometimes.

"Wow. A long sleeved trench coat in eighty degree weather. Are you selling knives?" He asked. She rolled her eyes at him. Brandon pressed the button to call for the elevator. She stepped inside and pressed his floor number.

Y/N stepped out of the elevator. Their eyes locked together. She removed the trench coat and let it pool at her feet. Nick wasted little time in taking her to his room.

Their clothes were discarded in various parts of the room. The only light peaking through the windows were the flashes of lightning and the shine from the moon. Rain hit the windows that looked over downtown Los Angeles. Nick didn't care about that. All he cared about was the noises coming from Y/N as she rode him. Her hands placed on his chest to steady herself.

His mind raced when he felt himself wanting to tell her he loved her. The ring was in the drawer in the night stand next to them. He wanted to keep it close. The war in himself was similar to the war she was experiencing. Their own hearts and minds were fighting with one another.

Do it, you stupid idiot.

Just tell him you love him.

What if she doesn't feel the same?

All right, fine, I'll tell him!

"Nick, I....I," she stopped. His hands rubbed her hips and butt affectionately. The fear of rejection stole her voice. Her mouth opened to speak. She had to tell him. Y/N was in love with him. Why was this so hard? She took a deep breath. "I'm tired,"

Nick chuckled and propped himself on his elbows. His hands pushed him up the rest of the way. They shared a kiss before he rolled them over. He was now on top of her. "That's fine. I want all of LA to know who makes you feel this good,"

"Nick!" She moaned loudly. His pace was quicker than what she was able to do. Her legs were over his shoulders. Soft kisses placed on her skin. His thumb rubbed her bundle of nerves.

They came together. He sat on his knees and waited to catch his breath. After one more kiss, he grabbed a washcloth to clean her off. He threw the washcloth in the hamper. They cuddled under the sheets. His arm wrapped around her. Fingers absentmindedly trace fingers against her skin. Her fingers interlocked with his. When he heard a soft snore, he knew that she was asleep.

"I love you," he spoke to the room while staring at the ceiling.

[bihanarms]

Chapter 9 : A promise.

And here it is, the final chapter at last. Sorry for the wait... I hope you enjoyed this fiction. Personally, I loved writing it. Feel free to give me your feedback, and apologies for any possible errors.

Luis and (Name) had been separated for a while, with her tasked to keep an eye on Ashley from a distance while he went after Leon in the depths of the castle's underground tunnels. She had just confronted Salazar, who had thrown her into the mines to "join her friend in death" as he had so eloquently put it. But before that, she had also learned that Ashley was going to be taken to the island where she and Luis had previously worked.

.

Despite the throbbing pain radiating through her injured leg from her fall down the throne room's well, (Name) kept running, exhausted but determined to find her comrades and save the president's daughter. She knew that every second counted and quickened her pace to go faster.

As she moved as swiftly as she could, hoping she was on the right path, she came across enemy corpses strewn on the ground, indicating that Luis and Leon had already been through there. Fierce battles must have taken place, and with each step, the number of bodies increased. (Name) prayed deep within that the two men had emerged unscathed. Especially Luis.

The pain became unbearable. She felt warm blood trickling down her leg, staining her pants and the floor. The young woman was forced to stop and examine her wound, which turned out to be rather severe. Removing her hand from the injury, she saw a gaping wound on her thigh, with blood flowing profusely. She gritted her teeth to suppress a cry of pain and quickly searched her bag for something to stop the bleeding. Finally, she found an old bandage and a knife, which she used to cut a piece of fabric to wrap around her wound.

(Name) took a few seconds to catch her breath and surveyed her surroundings. Despite the pain, she stood up and resumed her race. She knew she couldn't afford to waste time. She limped and left a trail of blood behind her, but she had to stay strong for Luis, for Leon, for Ashley, and for herself.

You better be alive, you idiot.

She had agreed to help Luis save his two friends. the military-girl understood how important it was to him, for his self-worth and self-esteem. She had tried to dissuade him at first, not because she didn't care about Ashley and Leon, but given the situation here, she was afraid Luis might lose his life. But now, she was determined to find both of them, no matter what.

As the pain in her leg grew more intense (Name) refused to falter. She had to be strong and keep running, despite everything. She had to be strong, for him.

.

After a few minutes, she suddenly heard a gunshot a few meters away. Her heart skipped a beat. They were close, she knew it. The adrenaline of knowing they were so near almost made her forget about her own pain as she hurried to run towards the source of the shot.

As (Name) reached the desired location, a suddenly eerie ambiance filled the surroundings, casting a deathly silence upon the atmosphere. She couldn't help but shiver with fear and unease that quickly spread throughout her body as she nervously scanned the surroundings, searching for her two companions.

"Damn it, where are the-

But her breath caught in her throat abruptly, her heart constricting with terror as she saw Luis lying on the ground, immersed in a pool of blood. Tears started flowing uncontrollably down the woman's face as she rushed towards Luis, knowing that his days were numbered.

"Luis, Luis, Luis..." she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion.

She collapsed to her knees beside him, her hands gripping his hand tightly, as if to hold him back from leaving.

"Mi amor, it's you... I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to see you before..." Luis coughed, spitting out blood, feeling his breath weaken slowly.

"Shhh, don't speak, please.." she pleaded, her eyes filled with tears, squeezing Luis' hand with all her might, even though she could barely feel the pressure of his fingers in return. She couldn't let him go, not now. She felt helpless, as if she had no control over the situation.

A myriad of conflicting emotions overwhelmed the lady, each more painful than the last. Anger, sadness, frustration, they all engulfed her. "I told you we should have left together..." she whispered, incredulous as she nestled against him, feeling his breath grow weaker, wishing that time could freeze so they could stay like this for eternity. But she knew it wasn't possible.

Luis managed a faint smile, running a hand through (Name)'s hair. He seemed to understand that his time was running out. She straightened up slightly, gazing into his eyes, trying to etch his gaze into her memory. She wanted to remember it forever.

"I gave them the key to my laboratory so they could treat themselves..." he managed to articulate with difficulty. "Please, make sure they get there safely and in one piece."

"No, come with me, I..." She was lying. She was lying to herself. Deep down, she knew it was the end for him. It was only a matter of seconds before he would leave her for eternity.

"I'm a good man, right? Just a good man who made bad choices..." Those were his final words. He struggled to force a semblance of a smile as he looked at (Name)'s devastated face, and then all signs of life faded from his eyes.

"You're a good man, Luis. I promise you." she murmured, her voice brimming with emotions.

She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat for the last time.

The hand she was holding slipped away completely.

All she could hear now were the beats of her own heart.

She was broken, powerless in the face of death.

"I will save them, it's a promise."