#theme: slow burn

[aventurineswife]

Sunday had always carried himself with an air of calm detachment, but tonight, in the quiet stillness of the Astral Express, there was something different in his demeanor. The weight he usually bore with stoic grace seemed to dissolve, leaving only a man—flawed, yearning, and far too human.

The private quarters were dimly lit, the golden glow of his halo casting shifting shadows on the walls. You stood before him, uncertain but unable to look away as his gaze—those irises marked by navy pupils—lingered on you with a rare intensity. His wings twitched, feathers ruffling slightly, betraying the emotions he fought to contain.

“You don’t have to stay,” he murmured, his voice low and soft, like a breeze carrying secrets. But even as he said it, his hand lingered at your wrist, his thumb brushing against your pulse.

“And leave you like this?” you whispered, tilting your head. “Sunday… I want to stay.”

His composure faltered, and for a moment, the mask slipped. His lips parted as if to protest, but the words died before they could form. Instead, he took a slow step closer, the soft fabric of his scarf brushing against you as his proximity stole the air between you both.

“Then let me be selfish,” he said, the words trembling on the edge of a plea.

His hands cupped your face with a tenderness that felt almost reverent, his touch as light as the flutter of his wings. When his lips met yours, it was hesitant at first, like a man unsure if he deserved this solace. But as you leaned into him, matching his hesitance with quiet assurance, the kiss deepened, blossoming into something neither of you could deny.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the energy of his halo crackling faintly in the charged air. His gloves were cast aside, and the bare touch of his hands trailing down your sides sent a shiver through you. Each caress felt deliberate, a silent promise carried in every movement.

“Tell me,” he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Tell me this is real. That I’m not lost in a dream again.”

“It’s real,” you assured him, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m here, and so are you.”

His forehead rested against yours, golden eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he exhaled, his tension melting into something softer, more vulnerable. He guided you to the bed with a gentleness that spoke of a man afraid to break something precious, every touch imbued with a care that made your heart ache.

Under his touch, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you—no past, no guilt, no lingering pain. Just Sunday, unguarded and whole, and you, willing to show him he could be loved not as a symbol or savior but as himself.

And in that quiet night, amid whispered confessions and shared warmth, Sunday allowed himself to believe it.

Please don't check the tags, I'm too embarrassed at myself... 🧍‍♀️😔🙏

[honey-bird10]

Been reading the novel of tscir and I'm starting to think yoojin could call hyunjae a "motherfucker" and he'd just reply "yes mommy"

[sapphirebluejewel]

Endless List of Romantic Relationships That I Love - Anne Shirley Cuthbert and Gilbert Blythe

"You are the fond object of my affection and my desire. You and you alone are the keeper of the key to my heart. I am not engaged, nor will I be, unless it's to you Anne. My Anne with an E. It always has been and always will be, you."

[player279achlys]

The golden rabbit's legacy (Hwang In-Ho/Frontman x fem! reader!)

Il-nam's granddaughter will prove herself worthy of being the next hostess, while someone becomes her loyal shadow.

CHAPTER II: midnight's surprise

Previous chapter: Chapter I

Next chapter: Chapter III

Pairing: Hwang In-Ho/Frontman x Original!female!Character

Word count: 1,8k words.

Summary: In the shadow of her grandfather’s dark empire, Melinoe, a brilliant young woman in her early twenties, steps into a world of blood, betrayal, and power she was never meant to inherit. As the granddaughter of the infamous Oh Il-Nam, creator of the deadly Squid Games, she is thrust into a brutal legacy that demands she not only survive but thrive as its new hostess. Determined to honor her family’s name and prove herself worthy of the golden rabbit mask, she designs games more cunning and lethal than any before.

But power comes at a cost. Beneath her calculated exterior lies a woman haunted by guilt, trauma, and the faces of those she has condemned to die. And at her side stands Hwang In-Ho, the enigmatic Front Man—older than her, cold, and feared by all, except for her. Since the day he learned of her existence, In-Ho has been deeply, obsessively in love with Melinoe. His devotion is as intense as it is toxic, a tangled mix of desire and protectiveness that pushes him to control every aspect of her life.

As Melinoe rises to prominence, she finds herself navigating not only the deadly games but also the dangerous allure of In-Ho. Their relationship is a powder keg of suppressed emotions, forbidden passion, and fraught power dynamics. He would destroy anyone who comes close to her—including a charming, younger VIP who flirts with her one too many times. Yet, while In-Ho dreams of keeping her safe in his arms, Melinoe dreams of reshaping the games into something darker and more just—her own twisted vision of justice against the world’s worst offenders.

When the 33rd Squid Games begin, everything changes. With her grandfather entering the arena as Player 001 and Gi-Hun as Player 456, the games take on unprecedented stakes. As alliances crumble and bodies fall, Melinoe must contend with the weight of her grandfather’s legacy, the manipulations of the VIPs, and the unrelenting obsession of the man who would burn the world for her.

In this slow-burn enemies-to-lovers romance, “The golden rabbit’s legacy” explores themes of obsession, power, betrayal, and the lengths people will go to protect the ones they love. Juxtaposing the dazzling opulence of the VIPs with the desperate brutality of the games, it tells the story of a woman fighting for control in a world that threatens to consume her—and the man willing to do anything to keep her.

Will Melinoe rise as the queen of the games, or will the bonds of obsession and love be the end of her?

Warnings: MDNI!!!, Afab!, angst. Sexual language. Fear of losing someone. Smut (light kinda), grumpy x sunshine, dark romance, age gap, possessive, obsessed, paranoid and dominant In-Ho, daddy issues, yandere behaviour, jealousy, violence, murder, typical squid game stuff.

English isn’t my first language, if there are any mistakes, please forgive me. :)

The room felt smaller now, the space between them shrinking with every second. In-Ho’s hand lingered on Melinoe’s cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin with a tenderness that contradicted the chaos roiling inside him. Her gaze searched his, her hazel-amber eyes shimmering with an emotion he couldn’t quite name—but it was enough to undo him.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, her voice so soft it felt like a caress.

“I’ve been trembling since the moment I met you,” he admitted, his voice raw. His hand slipped to her jaw, tilting her face up to his as he leaned closer. “You make me weak.”

Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching as his words hung in the air. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, feel the faint warmth of her breath against his skin. Her vulnerability, her strength—they were a siren’s call, and he was helpless to resist.

“In-Ho…” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Whatever restraint he had left shattered at the sound of his name on her lips. He took off his mask just enough to expose his lips and closed the distance between them, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and devotion. It was a collision of longing and need, years of buried emotions spilling out in an instant. 

Her hands found his shoulders, gripping him for balance as he deepened the kiss. He tasted the sweetness of her lips, felt the softness of her body pressed against his, and it sent a jolt of electricity through him. He wanted more—needed more.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted her from the chair, his hands gripping her hips as though she might disappear if he let go. She gasped against his mouth, her arms looping around his neck as he carried her to the bed.

When he laid her down, he paused, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of her. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, her lips swollen from his kiss, her skin glowing under the soft light. She was a vision, and for a moment, he couldn’t believe she was real.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with reverence. His gloved hand traced the curve of her cheek, down to her jaw, then lower, to the delicate hollow of her throat. “You’re everything.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she reached up to tug at the mask he wore. “I want to see you,” she said softly, her fingers hesitating just beneath the edge.

For a moment, he froze. The mask was his armor, the thing that kept the world at bay. But as he looked into her eyes, he realized he didn’t need it—not with her. Slowly, he removed it, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Her breath caught as she took him in, her fingers brushing against his face. “In-Ho,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’re…”

“Yours,” he finished, his lips curving into a rare, small smile. “I’m yours.”

Her hands moved to his chest, unbuttoning his jacket and slipping it from his shoulders. He followed her lead, removing the layers of his uniform until there was nothing between them but skin. His hands roamed over her body with reverence, memorizing every curve, every dip, every scar.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck to her collarbone. “Every inch of you.”

She shivered beneath his touch, her body arching toward him as he explored her with a mix of tenderness and hunger. His lips pressed against her skin, leaving a trail of kisses that made her gasp and writhe beneath him.

“In-Ho, please,” she whispered, her voice heavy with need.

He stilled for a moment, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “Tell me you want this,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she replied without hesitation, her hands tangling in his hair.

That was all he needed. He claimed her again, his kisses growing more fervent as his hands slid down her body. He worshiped her with every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of praise. 

In-Ho’s mouth traveled lower, his lips brushing against her thighs, his touch reverent and filled with devotion. He took his time, savoring the taste of her, the way she trembled beneath him, the soft moans that spilled from her lips. She was his—completely, utterly his—and he wanted her to feel it in every fiber of her being.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. “So perfect for me.”

Her hands gripped the sheets as she gasped, her body arching toward him. He didn’t relent, his mouth and hands working in unison to bring her to the edge. When she cried out his name, her voice filled with pleasure, it sent a surge of pride through him.

He moved back up to capture her lips in a kiss, his body aligning with hers. He entered her slowly, carefully, his forehead pressing against hers as he whispered her name like a prayer. The connection between them was electric, a mix of passion and emotion that left them both breathless.

“You’re mine,” he said again, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m yours.”

They moved together, their bodies perfectly in sync as they gave in to the need that had been building between them for what felt like so long. He worshiped her with every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of love and devotion. She was his anchor, his salvation, and he would do anything to keep her safe.

When they finally collapsed together, their bodies tangled and their breaths mingling, he held her close, his arms wrapping around her protectively. For the first time in years, he felt at peace. She was here, in his arms, where she belonged.

In-Ho awoke to the soft rustle of sheets and the faint scent of lavender still lingering in the air. His arms instinctively tightened around her, the warmth of her body pressed against his a grounding comfort. For the first time in years, his sleep had been untroubled, his mind unburdened by the ghosts of the games. Melinoe had banished them all with her presence.

But when his eyes fluttered open, his chest tightened. The bed beside him was empty.

“Melinoe?” His voice was hoarse, rough with sleep and a trace of panic.

The door to her quarters was ajar, the faint sound of guards patrolling the hallway drifting in. She was gone, and though he knew she was likely safe, the gnawing fear of losing her again began to creep in. In-Ho sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair before burying his face in his palms.

How could I let her leave?

The memories of the night before replayed in his mind with vivid clarity—the way she had looked at him, the way she had whispered his name, the way she had melted beneath his touch. He had given her everything, yet now the cold emptiness of the room threatened to swallow him whole.

Melinoe stood in the bunkroom, the oppressive atmosphere of the games pressing down on her like a physical weight. The other players were subdued after the horrors of the first game and the first night there, their faces etched with fear and exhaustion. She felt their stares, though she wasn’t sure if they were scrutinizing her or simply searching for someone to share in their despair.

Her mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. The night she had shared with In-Ho had been… unexpected. She had seen a side of him that no one else had—a man burdened by duty, yet capable of a love so fierce it both frightened and intrigued her. And yet, she couldn’t allow herself to be consumed by him. Not now. Not here.

If she was going to survive this, she needed to focus.

“Eun-Seol,” a familiar voice called out, pulling her from her thoughts.

She turned to see Player 077—Wol-Jin—approaching her with a cautious smile. His dark eyes held a mix of curiosity and admiration, though there was an underlying tension in his expression. She forced a smile, hoping to deflect any suspicion.

“Good morning, Wol-Jin,” she replied, her tone even.

“You’re holding up better than most,” he remarked, his gaze sweeping over her. “It’s impressive.”

“I’m good at compartmentalizing,” she said with a small shrug, her eyes drifting to the guards stationed at the far end of the hall. She knew one of them would report her movements back to In-Ho. It made her skin prickle with unease.

Wol-Jin stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Listen, I know this is crazy to even say in a place like this, but… you’re different. You’ve got this calm strength about you. It’s inspiring.”

Melinoe met his gaze, her expression softening despite herself. “Wol-Jin…”

“I just want you to know,” he continued, his tone earnest, “if we get through this, I’d like to see you again. Outside of all this madness.”

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably, and not just because of his words. She could feel the weight of unseen eyes on her, the knowledge that In-Ho was likely watching their exchange sending a shiver down her spine. She needed to put an end to this, for Wol-Jin’s sake as much as her own.

“I appreciate that,” she said gently, “but I already have someone waiting for me. Someone who means… everything.”

Wol-Jin’s expression faltered, disappointment flickering across his face. “I understand,” he said after a moment, his voice tinged with resignation. “But if things ever change…”

“They won’t,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“She’s lying,” he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl. “She’s protecting him.”

He paced the room like a caged predator, his mind racing with dark thoughts. The scotch bottle sat on the desk, its contents already half gone, though it did little to soothe the fire burning in his veins. He replayed the conversation in his head, dissecting every word, every expression. She had chosen him last night—she had said she was his. So why was she entertaining that boy?

“You’ll regret this, Wol-Jin,” he muttered, his voice venomous. “I’ll make sure of it.”

He wanted to act, to send the guards to drag the boy away and eliminate him on the spot. But he knew he couldn’t—not yet. Melinoe would see through it, and the fragile trust they had built would shatter.

For now, he would wait. But when the time came, Wol-Jin would pay for daring to stand too close to her.

How was chapter II my babes??? Did y'all like it?? I hope you did, I'm not an expert writing, let alone writing smut... But In-Ho just... makes us wild, doesn't he?

Do y’all want me to make a taglist or am I getting too excited too soon?

Also, while I write or read a fanfic I listen to this playlist, in case y'all wanna check it out! <3

Loves you, Achlys.

[steddieunderdogfics]

the magic that we'll feel is worth a lifetime by unkreativstermensch

@unkreativstermensch

Rating: Mature

23,703 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Roadtrip Fic, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, I think? not sure, this was partly inspired by keep driving by harry styles, Steve fell first Eddie fell harder, jk they both fell extremely hard, steve gettin slept on in the show so he gettin slept with here, i stole that tag from another fic but it was just way too good not to use it, fuck historical accuracy steve deserves to know the word bisexual, no beta we die like jason (and only him), Excessive use of italics, excessive use of the word really, seriously guys i dont think i know other words

Summary

“I could drive you.” He says it like it’s the most normal thing in the world and not at all absolutely insane. Eddie isn’t sure if he’s really heard the words come out of Steve’s mouth or if it was just his imagination acting up again. “What?” “I could drive you,” Steve says, another time, just as nonchalant and he looks at Eddie with a serious expression on his face and…he really means it, doesn’t he? He is really offering to drive Eddie across the whole goddamn country with all of his stuff, isn’t he? Eddie has never met anyone like Steve Harrington before, that’s for sure. Or: Eddie and Steve drive to LA together. They fall in love along the way.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Mutual Pining.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[berryispunk]

Nothing You Can Do Will Save Me Masterlist

Priest Frankie Morales x OFC

Explicit 18 +

Current word count: 15,1 k (updated after every chapter)

series tags: Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious Guilt, Catholicism, YEARNING, small age difference (Frankie is mid 30’s, Lucy beginning of 20’s), slow burn, sexual tension, ANGST, AU , Catholic Church Core, dirty thoughts, small town, mentions of drug abuse, domestic violence, alcohol abuse, kissing, swearing, SMUT

Work is currently unfinished

Summary: Father Morales started his service in a new parish, hopeful to continue his life in the name of God. The girl in first pew catches more than just his eye and soon he starts questioning his vows. How much is he willing to risk to be with her?

Part Ⅰ "Flesh and Faith"

Part Ⅱ "This Town's Too Small"

Part Ⅲ "You Make Me Believe In God"

Part Ⅳ "Who Will Rise And Who Will Fall"

Part Ⅴ "Divine Temptation"

[urdepressedslut]

Stray (masterlist)♡

♡ Pairing: The Winter Soldier Fem!Reader/Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Series Summary: Just hours after the events in DC, you find The Winter Soldier unconscious, leaning against a gravestone in a cemetery near your home. Being sheltered you don't recognize who he is, and you care for him.

♡ Series Warnings: dark themes, heavy angst, fluff, vomiting, imprisonment, physical/emotional abuse, injuries, death, PTSD, hallucinations, self hate, murder, scars, violence, language, rituals, suicide, drowning, suicidal ideation, SLOW BURN 🔥

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SERIES 18+

(SERIES ONGOING)

⇨ Chapter One

↳ Just hours after the events in DC, you find The Winter Soldier unconscious, leaning against a gravestone in a cemetery near your home. Being sheltered you don't recognize who he is, and you care for him.

⇨ Chapter Two

↳ Bucky takes shelter in your house, waiting for the storm to pass. He notices something a little off about you.

⇨ Chapter Three

↳ A glimpse into your past is shown. You and Bucky seem to be getting a little closer, maybe even starting to trust each other.

⇨ Chapter Four

↳ It’s the next day and both you and Bucky don’t want things to change. He doesn’t want to leave, and you don’t want him to.

⇨ Chapter Five

↳ Time has passed, things are going well. You and Bucky get along, respecting each other’s space. Not always creating conversation, but appreciating the company.

⇨ Chapter Six

↳ You run into someone from the past, no way this can be real? Bucky finds you in distress, and is there to comfort you.

⇨ Chapter Seven

↳ You finally open up to Bucky about some of your past, your bond starts to grow stronger.

⇨ Chapter Eight

↳ An unexpected visitor comes knocking at the door, both you and Bucky freak out. Tension between the two continues to rise.

⇨ Chapter Nine

↳ You can’t ignore the tension anymore, will you both give in to the hunger you both have for each other? Bucky knows what he wants, while you are unsure. You’re scared.

⇨ Chapter Ten

↳ You have another scare, clinging to Bucky for comfort. Later, you get another surprise visit.

⇨ Chapter Eleven

↳ You run into a familiar face, who tries to convince you that you are truly a monster. The pieces are starting to come together, and the reveal is terrifying.

⇨ Chapter Twelve

↳ Your true self is slowly being revealed, what is this place you've been sent to? What happens when you return home, will Bucky still be there— or will he run?

⇨ Chapter Thirteen

↳ coming soon.

[the-bi-space-ace]

Obi-Wan was taken in by Dooku after leaving the order for Malida/Daan and raised to be a spy for the Sith. A weapon to be exploited when the time is right. He’s angry and has spent years being angry. His world starts unraveling when he captures a commander, Cody, and he will have to decide how far he will go for vengeance.

Or

The Sith Obi-Wan AU my partner wanted so here it is I’m writing it I hope you enjoy <3

[aventurineswife]

Could I request Aventurine, Dan Heng and Sunday finding their lover wearing risque lingerie in bed?

In the Wake of Temptation

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Suggestive Themes, Romantic Tension, Fluff, Soft Smut (?), Vulnerability, Intimacy, Slow Burn, Emotional Depth.

Warnings: Mild suggestiveness and sexual tension, Implied intimacy, Character vulnerability and emotional conflict, Light innuendo.

Aventurine entered the dimly lit room, the evening breeze lightly swaying the curtains. He had just returned from another exhausting day of navigating the labyrinthine politics of the IPC, and yet, the moment his eyes fell upon you lying on the bed, everything else seemed to fade away.

You were sprawled out in the bed, dressed in the most alluring set of lingerie he had ever seen. The fabric clung to your form, accentuating every curve and leaving little to the imagination. The earring that adorned his ear glinted in the light, but his eyes were fixed on you, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.

��Well, well,” he said, his voice a smooth blend of playfulness and something deeper, almost dangerous. He took a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving your body. “I must say, you’re a gamble I’m tempted to take.” His tone was teasing, yet the gleam in his eyes betrayed the raw intensity beneath his controlled exterior.

You could sense his calculated demeanor, always analyzing, always playing. But tonight, he was yours.

He sauntered closer, fingers grazing the edge of the bed. His gaze flickered over you, a flicker of something softer crossing his features. “You’ve caught me at a disadvantage. How very... captivating,” he murmured, the words heavy with desire. “But be careful, darling. I’m known to play for high stakes, and I rarely lose.”

You couldn't help but smile at his unpredictable nature. His charm was undeniable, but beneath the veneer of elegance and confidence, you knew he was just as vulnerable as the next person. As he took another step closer, you could feel the electric tension crackling between you, the game having only just begun.

Dan Heng’s footsteps echoed softly in the quiet of the corridor as he made his way back to his room, ready to unwind after another day aboard the Astral Express. The door to his quarters creaked open, and there you were—lying on the bed, wrapped in delicate, sheer lingerie that caught the low light of the room. His breath hitched, his stoic expression faltering for just a moment before his gaze quickly flicked away.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks as he cleared his throat. He had seen you in many states of undress before, but this—this was different. You looked effortlessly stunning, your allure almost too much for him to handle.

“I... didn’t expect this,” he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically soft. His words were laced with a mix of surprise and an underlying tension. He stood still for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, his mind racing between duty and the irresistible pull to remain by your side.

You could see the internal battle within him—Dan Heng, the ever-dutiful guard, struggling against the man who wanted nothing more than to give in to the moment. His gaze lingered on you, and despite his reserved nature, you could feel the heat in the air.

Finally, he took a slow step forward, his voice more confident now. “You know... I could never have imagined you like this,” he said, his tone low and nearly inaudible. “But if I’m being honest, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.”

His eyes softened, the walls he so carefully built around himself beginning to crumble. In that moment, it wasn’t just the power of your beauty that moved him; it was the undeniable connection that bound you together.

Sunday walked into the room, his hair glimmering softly under the ambient lighting. He had been deep in thought, contemplating the ways in which he could bring peace to the world, but as soon as he stepped inside and saw you, everything else faded into the background.

You lay on the bed in an intricately designed set of lingerie, a stark contrast to his usual serene surroundings. The delicate fabric clung to your body, every movement mesmerizing as your eyes met his. Sunday paused, a deep sigh escaping his lips as his gaze softened. He could already feel his composure faltering, his stoic, thoughtful demeanor slipping away.

“I didn’t expect... this,” he whispered, though his voice was laced with a certain tenderness. He didn’t speak much, but his eyes told a different story—appreciation, longing, and perhaps even a tinge of regret for the path he had chosen to walk. He could see the vulnerability in your eyes, just as you could see it in his.

His wings fluttered gently behind him, his golden halo casting a subtle glow, highlighting the emotions he usually kept hidden. His usual philosophical musings were quiet tonight, replaced with something far more tangible. Something real.

“You’re a vision,” he murmured, stepping closer to the bed but still holding back, as if afraid to invade your space. He reached out slowly, brushing a finger gently against the edge of your lingerie, his touch soft and reverent. “But... are you certain about this?” he asked, his voice carrying the weight of both concern and desire.

He wanted to protect you, to shield you from the world’s pain, but here, with you in front of him, there was nothing to protect you from. The calm, ethereal strength he often displayed was replaced by a vulnerability that only you could draw out.

“I fear... I may not be strong enough to resist,” he confessed, his hand lingering by your side, almost hesitant, as if awaiting your permission.

The air between you both thickened, the line between his ideals and his desires blurring. This wasn’t just about what he saw; it was about what he felt—something far deeper, a yearning he couldn’t ignore.

[thisisxli]

Crimson Kalon

.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・

Vocab:

Kalon - (n.) Beauty that is more skin-deep.

Rs: Ejiro Kirishima x Vamp!fem reader

Warnings:

slight stalking, biting,

blood, suggestive themes,

obsessive reader,

reader is kinda pervy,

slight ghosting, reader is

kind of a yandere

Summary: the reader who's a vampire in the quirk world, strangely has an obsession with a red spiky-haired man. Maybe it was in her blood to desire him for claiming the colour red or the way his antics had her heart blooming. What do you do when you take a few sips of his blood? Will it ruin your image and friendship?

Wc: 3.4k

ʚ ɞ

One-shot/drabble.

ʚ ɞ

You didn't know when it started. You didn't know how you ended up following him when school ended. Even when dorms were created, you found yourself drawn to his room. The time everyone was competing what room was best, you savored your sweet time wandering the small space. His room was rather eccentric.

Hagakure had caught you sniffing one of his belongings but that became a sworn secret between you two.

You remember seeing him for the very first time. Red was all you saw and maybe that's just what made you tingle inside, to form some kind of spark. No mortal made you feel this way, not unless you were drinking their blood of course. You swear you're not a bad guy but then again, it doesn't hurt to drink from somebody time to time. That's also what has you drawn, because he was so so nice.

"Heyy- (Y/N), right?"

Usually, nobody goes up to you first which was odd to you when he first spoke. It was like your name rolled off his tongue like a song was being sung and you loved every single part of it. Maybe it was your vampirism that was causing all this.

or maybe just the way his skin glistens when he's sweaty, rock hard abs flexing when he stretches.

You fawned over the boy every chance you got to your friends and honestly, they were kind of sick of it but you didn't care. Sometimes you've wondered

what did his blood taste like? Dark and metallic? Or thick as his ego? Oddly, your thoughts were drifting into... other thoughts. But that can hold another time when you both have the time and equally ready. At least you hoped.

When Aizawa is just lecturing his ass away in class, you can't help but stare at Kirishima across from class, biting your lip. Gosh, was he fine. You would stare at his neck the whole class time all while sinking a fang into your own lip, drawing blood. You were aware that some of your other classmates could see your little expressions but honestly, did you care what they think? That'll just show them how you want Kirishima, and maybe for him to be yours alone. The thought about sinking your fangs into his neck had you rolling your eyes back. To feel the sweet hot relief of his blood on your tongue.

Your stomach nearly jumps every time his vibrant eyes stare into yours, making you fiddle with your hands, wiggling your toes, or just biting your lip.

When you're training, he's just SOO...

You didn't even have the words.

Your fangs were unbreakable as were his body. It was almost like you were made for each other, you think.

One time when you felt bold, you scooped some blood from his finger when he got a paper cut, putting it in your mouth all while purposely trying to seem innocent.

"Sorry, Kiri! Couldn't help myself."

He blushed in return when he averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, it's- it's fine.."

His voice had you in shambles.

Right now, you were both training with each other. You were helping with his durability and endurance. And it just so happened that no one was around. Good for you.

You grunt when you swing a pillar at him, his arms making an 'X' to block from the attack. He was incredibly strong. That was also what you had admired about him and adore. You swing the pillar at him again, accidentally hitting the side of his neck. You gasp and quickly drop the pillar to the side, rushing to his side when he groans in pain and clutch in between his neck and shoulder.

"Kirishima! I'm- shit..! I'm so sorry-"

You hover over him, flailing your arms around. You did NOT mean to do that. Fucking shit, you were an idiot.

You watch him retreat from his hardened form before cracking his neck side to side. "Eh.. I'm fine I guess.. I didn't expect you to go that hard. And it wasn't really expected. I should've seen it coming, am I right?"

You swallow thickly when you see a cut on his cheek and on his neck. You honestly didn't mean to actually hurt him but damn.. Maybe it was worthwhile? "Can.. Can I see your wound?"

Kirishima looked up at you confused for a second before gently padding his neck. "O-oh! Yeah, sure, go right on ahead."

He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. You kneel down close in front of him. Your gaze fixates on his lips before his neck. "Kirishima.." He looks up at you again, a small lop-sided smile on his face. You gently wrap your hands around his head an shoulder, leaning your head down to his neck before you started drinking his blood. Kirishima, who was caught by surprise didn't know how to react. Should he pull you away? Probably. Yes. But it kind of felt nice. He doesn't know why it does but it just does.

He nearly couldn't suppress a whimper when he felt your tongue swirling around the small cut. Gently, he pushed you away from him. You let him do so, staring at him. Reality hit you like a brick. You feel embarrassment and shame grow inside every single one of your insides. Yet, Kirishima was in his own world, staring back at you. Your lips were covered in his blood. Butterflies danced around his lungs.

But before he could even stop you, you run away, wiping the remaining blood on your lips. Watching you run away kind of had him feeling bad. His hand reached out for you but he didn't get up to go chase after you. He'll talk to you tomorrow. Definitely. When everything in his head is sort out.

You lay in bed encased in your thoughts, reminiscing of the past events that just occurred. Gosh, that was fucking embarrassing. Who randomly latches themselves onto a classmate to drink their blood? Where was your filter? Self-control went out of the room.

Embarrassment ate away at your gut and you honestly wanted to bang your head against a metal wall.

The other side of you though, liked it. It was all your vampirism to blame. His blood was thick and savory on your tongue, skin so smooth and hard under your teeth, and the way his blood's metallic scent came seeping into your nose. The taste of his sweat. All of that got you excited. You rub your thighs together, one of your hands trailing up from your pelvis to your neck. You bite your bottom lip. Kirishima had this much of a effect on you which was beyond crazy. The thought of him excited you and you were here for it.

But honestly, your dignity was nearly gone after the embarrassment that occurred today so you had no idea how you were gonna face him the next few days.

The next two school days, you were avoiding him and you made sure you did it at all costs. He was confused and he felt like he personally hit home for you, he wanted to apologize but every time he approached you, you would immediately walk away. He was kind of butt-hurt, his ego busted when he had Tsu ask you what was going on and you said you just didn't want to talk to him.

He obviously wasn't going to give up that easily but jeez. He sighed, crossing his arms and rests his chin on top.

"Everything good?"

He shifts his head to the left, spotting his pink-haired friend. He sighed again, slightly pouting. "Yeah.. But (Y/N) won't talk to me after we trained alone together..

I feel like it's kind of my fault- but I mean, I know it isn't. But I kind of just feel bad, y'know?"

Mina nods in understanding, her hazel irises lingering on Kirishima for a moment. She sighs along with him, pondering for a moment. She wasn't best friends with you but you were both definitely close. She pinches her chins in between her fingers, looking up in the ceiling before looking back at Kirishima again, smirking. "Kirishima! I thought you were smart!"

He flinches in surprise, confusion written on all over his face. "Wha?- what are you talking about?"

"Context clues, idiot! It's so obvious!" She clenches both of her hands into a fist, waiting for Kirishima to get the hint. When two minutes pass, he still didn't get it. He was thinking long and hard. What could it have been?

Mina groans before leaning in and whispering in his ear, "she likes you, dumbass!" Kirishima's cheeks blaze up, matching his hair. "No way! You- you're joking!" Mina shakes her head at him, taking in his reaction.

"I'm not manly enough for her!" He looks away dramatically with closed eyes, one hand in a fist to his heart and the other stretched away towards Mina. "Oh get over it, Dorito Hair."

You, from the distance, hanging out with Tsu, Uraraka, and Hagakure, watched their whole interaction. You were across the room so you didn't really get to hear them, but seeing her so close to Kirishima had you fuming. "(Y/N).. hey.. Are you okay?" Uraraka looks at you with concern, nervously fiddling with her fingers when a sweat bead dribbles down her temple. "Yeah, you have this deadly scary look on your face, it's not cute!" You hear Hagakure chime in.

You hear the girls bicker about Hagakure's blunt comment but you could honestly care less. You grit your teeth when you see them lean in again, faces closer than ever. You scowl, moving your way past the girls. "(Y/N)! Hey wait!- are you oka-"

"I'm going to the bathroom!" You cut off Uraraka. You didn't mean to boast at her but honestly, seeing Kirishima and Mina's interaction had you beyond ticked off.

"So basically... When me and her were training, I got caught off guard for a little bit when I relaxed. My body wasn't completely hardened so when she striked at me, she gave me a crazy bruise and a few cuts. When she went ahead to check for the minor injuries.... She kinda just.. latched onto me and started drinking my blood."

"WHAAT??!"

Kirishima winces, piping his hand down, suggesting her to lower her volume. "Quiet down, will ya? I don't want anyone else to know this.. I know she's probably embarrassed by this, man.."

Mina shuts her mouth completely but is absolutely bewildered. She knew you had a fat crush on Kirishima but for you to be this crazy about him?!

"She must likes you tons!" Mina triumphantly stuck her thumb up, imaginative steam flaring out of her nostrils. Kirishima's cheeks heat up, scratching the back of his head. "I guess so.. I think I like her too. It was subtle before but that was just because we're doing hero stuff, y'know? But now I'm coming face-to-face with it. I don't know what to do, Mina- help me-" Kirishima whines, bowing his head down at her, clasping his hands in a prayer.

You came back in the room, ears hot as ever. What enraged you even more was when he was still close to her, but close at her boobs! That should be you! You felt embarrassment creeping up inside of you as your heart shrivels. Honestly, you didn't blame either of the two if they liked each other or if they were together. They went to the same middle school together and all. But you can't help but feel jealous; do you even have the right? You watch them talk more and more before seeing them glance back at you which they immediately look away, quickly to resort to whispering in each other's ears. Are you talking about you? Talking shit maybe? Shit, maybe he was talking shit about you, talking about the nasty encounter you guys had at training.

"Hey."

You turn, unknowingly teary-eyed, meeting Bakugou's red eyes. His brows weren't crinkled together and he held an unusual calm expression. "You like shitty-hair, don't you?" Your sullen expression quickly turning into a surprised one, your cheeks turning pink. "Wh-what?"

"I see the way you look at Shitty-hair. It's obvious you like him." When the fuck did Bakugou notice anything about you? When did he start to give a fuck?

"Don't get them wrong," he nods off past you, towards Mina and Kirishima who were still whispering to each other. "Kirishima likes you too. He probably doesn't know it yet, but he does. Whatever one of you idiots did that made you guys stop talking needs to step up. It's annoying having to watch this." Bakugou looks away when he shoves his hands in his pockets, a small scowl on his face. You were surprised. Was he giving you advice or a heads-up? Either way, this was.. a shocker, especially coming from him. A vein irked in his temple, gritting his teeth together. Andd.. There was his wrinkle. "At least say something you damn idiot!"

A week had gone by and before you knew it, it was New Years Eve.

There was a festival that was held out in the middle of Mutsufasu, about everyone in your class attended, including others from the other classes. The night had set in, leaving the stars to shine down above the light of the festival. Lanterns were being lit, booths and concessions were being held, and a lot of people were wearing yukatas and kimonos.

You were wearing a kimono with the color base being black, your haneri, obiage, and obijime being a scarlet red. Your obi was black with light ash brown coloured lines etched across with red detailed flowers adorning at the bottom of your kimono and sleeves. Your hair was up and done nicely with fake red and black flowers above your ear, some small pieces displayed on the other parts of your hair. You walked the streets with Uraraka, Midoriya, Lida, and Tsu, buying food and all sorts of things off the booths. You held a lantern in your left hand, light illuminating faces that passed by you.

Something red in the corner of your eye had you turn your head, meeting a pair of familiar crimson eyes. Your cheeks turned red deeply before quickly turning back to your friends.

Kirishima gazed at you softly, a small lop-sided smile on his face. He wore a deep red haori with a black himo, his hakama also being a pair of black. Honestly if you noticed his traditional clothes when you saw him, you would've thought you two were matching. He feels the back of his head being smacked, looking back at the perpetrator. "Stop ogling and keep moving, shitty hair."

Bakugou scoffs, crossing his arms across his yukata. "Sorry, man," Kirishima awkwardly laughs heartedly, rubbing his nape. They both continue walking before having more of their other friends join in with them; Mina, Denki, and Sero.

In the corner of your eye again, you see the pink and red figure oddly close. Your heart tugs at itself. It almost felt like hands were grabbing at it and stretching its' meaty flesh. You looked at them for a second, seeing him win a stuffed animal, giving it to her. He awkwardly rubs his neck before she jumps on him, hugging him tightly around the neck. It seems that you were wrong for thinking he even felt something for you. The subtle glances and the smiles directed towards you seemed to just be friendly. What part of you could've thought that anyway?

"I'm.. gonna go look around, okay? I'll meet with you guys later," you let your friends know, some of them shooting you a worried look before letting you go off in the crowd. Tears threaten to leave your eyes as you make your way past the crowd, fists clenching in hurt and anger. You shut your eyes, letting tears fall. Hopefully, no one saw. You didn't want to receive any weird or awkward looks from bystanders. You feel someone grab your wrist which you instinctively snatch back, looking back at who grabbed you. It was Bakugou, who had a sour expression on his face. You looked away in shame, rubbing your arms. "What did I tell you, dumbass? You should tell him. Stop bein' so insecure and stand up."

You frown warily, nodding, still avoiding his gaze. When he leaves your vision, you look back up. You notice that people were going into a more open space of the city, signaturing that the fireworks were gonna start. You huff before making your way to find your friends.

You see a kimono's sleeve waving up in the air before realizing it was Hagakure. You walk up to your friends, smiling and laughing on the way to an open field to see the fireworks. It started in fifteen minutes.

You were laughing with your friends, throwing your head back before feeling a warm hand on your shoulder. You wipe the joyful tears in your eyes as you turn your head, surprised when you see the same particular crimson eyes. "Kirishi-"

"Can I talk to you? Alone?"

You pause, remorse flickering across your features before turning to your friends which they nod in return. You sigh, standing up to your feet, following him as he leads you. You guys enter a building, which honestly had you nervous because were you even allowed to be in there?

You both stood in the elevator in silence before you guys exit, reaching a stair case. You guys step up before exiting through a door, a chilly breeze hitting your face. You guys were on top of a building.

"I wanted to talk to you.. about..." His breath hitches. You notice.

"About what happened back at training-"

"I'm sorry that I did that! I didn't- it was on impulse, I didn't mean to-"

He grabs your shoulders, forcing you to face him. "(Y/N)," he breathed, looking at you so tenderly. "I don't care.. that you did it. I just.. want things to be normal again." He inches his body closer to yours, his thumbs caressing your shoulders reassuringly. "I want to be close to you again."

His words were like hot fire melting the ice in your heart. Your lips quiver, eyes watering. How could something so small cause something so big and heartfelt for you? Was Kirishima important to you? What did he mean by 'close?' When you don't respond, still staring up into his eyes with teary ones, he continues, "I miss you. I..."

He pauses, his cheeks and ears turning red as time passes. "I want to be with you. You can drink my blood for as much as you want, I just- I don't know.."

"But-" your voice is shaky, you don't even care anymore because tears are pouring from your eyes. "What about Mina? Aren't you with her?" He looks at you confused for a moment before realization dawns on him, a sad expression fading into his face. "No. I'm not with her. She's one of my closest friends, she was just there when I needed somebody to go to... about you."

Blood rushes to your cheeks, Kirishima's hand going up to cup your cheeks, wiping your tear with his calloused thumb. "It's always been you."

"It's.. always been you too, Ki-"

"Eijiro."

You stare at him for a few seconds before nodding, "Eijiro." His name rolls off your tongue so foreignly but it felt so nice. His other hand gently makes his way around your waist, the hand on your cheek moving towards the back of your head. Your breath becomes heavy when you notice how close he was to you. "Eijiro..."

"Can I kiss you?" Kirishima blushes deeply, looking in your eyes with half-lidded ones.

You nod, feeling the radiation from his body. You feel his lips press against yours so gently, it makes you wraps your arms around his neck tightly. Fireworks went off when you both move your lips against each other's, your heart pounding against your chest as loud as the fireworks. This was so intimate for you, to share a kiss with someone you hold dear under the star sky, showered with fireworks.

You both seperate, letting out silent breaths you were holding in. He stared into your eyes so fondly, leaning in again, but not to kiss you. He just holds you there, face against his, lips just barely touching.

You swear you heard a 'I love you' push past his lips.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

A/N: I'm kinda glad how this turned out. Kirishima is one of my favs and deserves all the attention he gets. He can be dense a little bit sometimes but he gives off golden retriever boyfriend energy.

Bakugou was playing a little love matchmaker even though he dislikes love stuff. But he cares about his friends a lot

Writing this was fun and nice, it was kinda cute. I'm glad that its done tho, hope you enjoyed it. <3

[fertilize-my-eggs]

The night stalker ch.1

Ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 A03

A/N: the first chapter is base on my dream a few days ago so I believe it's was sleep paralysis demon that I was having but this give me the idea for this chapter :3

Blinking the tiredness away as I curl into a ball, the soft warmth touches on my delicate skin. I turn over for the fresh air of the ac as I sigh quietly.

I blink away to see a dark figure near my bed as I stare at it a bit. It's holding what I assume is a small gray camera but it's suddenly disappeared before I get to look at it a little longer. I think my mind was playing tricks as I turned over and didn't think much about it.

I curl over as I pull the blanket over my face, it's a bit unnerving to see something like that out of a horror movie in real life. I should stop watching those true crimes on YouTube as I doze off into sleep.

It was a bright beautiful morning as I stretched out my arms, I yawned out loud as I rub my eyes a bit.

Living in Japan by myself feels refreshed but I miss my home life in my country as I get up to start my early breakfast.

I put my thumb on my lips as I think, I need to study for my college about speaking Japanese and its culture. I smile softly as I play with my hair, I put it into a messy bun.

As I head into the living room to turn on the television for news, I feel a bit isolated about being alone in this apartment but I always thought Japan was such a beautiful place and also it was time for me to start a new chapter for my journey as a foreigner woman.

I begin to prep the potato as I peel it, I look over to see the weather lady talking about a nice sunny day as I smile. It's gonna be nice weather as I wash the peeled potatoes.

It's cut to a news man explaining about an unwanted criminal as I cut it into small pieces.

An unwanted criminal? As I pause the cutting as I begin to look at the TV.

“ an unknown male in his early 20s has been breaking and entering houses, murdering anyone who lives in it. ” I gasp as I hear him speak about the location as I bite my lips, it's close by where I live. It's hard to make out what he is saying since I'm still learning Japanese but he said.

“ The man goes by the night stalker, make sure to lock everything, your windows and doors at night time. ” I tilt my head as I think, it can't be what I saw last night about a dark figure hovering over my bed… no I think it was playing tricks on me.

“ We talked to one of his victims as they explained what he looked like. ”

“ There is a rough sketch of what we assume the criminal looks like. ” it's show a man that has shaggy short hair, sharp eyes, mole and large scar near his lips.

“ If you see this man, call the police immediately!! He is dangerous. ” I slowly realized I was holding my breath as I put my hand on my chest feeling like I couldn't breathe.

I blink fast as I turn it off, the night stalker… he sounds like something that will bring hell his way if you look at him wrong.

I walk away to start the food, I begin to think about it. Hopefully I don't run into him, I shouldn't be worried about this, I'm supposed to enjoy my day.

The meal looks a bit okay but I'll still eat it anyway, I put it down on the plate as I sat down to eat quietly.

I hum about the taste as I put my fingers on my face as I think. Don't think about it, maybe it won't ruin your day.

Suddenly I get a loud bing as I pull my phone out as I read the message.

(#1 bff asshole): hey you awake smiley?

I narrowed my eyes at his message. Katsuki bakugou was my first friend that I made when I came to Japan. We started out as online friends just joking around and now I live in Japan, he wants me to join him in college with his friends as I smile.

The nickname was a bit cheesy as I giggle at it, I remember when we first did a video call he was intimidating when I first saw him but he was a bit polite and he noticed off the bat that I smile too much or whenever I make dumb jokes often so bakugou was blunt in conversation and so smiley was his nickname to me.

(Me): yeah!! I'll be here in bit, gotta eat my breakfast :>

(#1 bff asshole): well hurry up I don't have all day smiley.

Grumpy asshole as I groan at the message.

(Me): hey you… hear about the news today? About an unwanted criminal called night stalker…apparently he's around my location..

There was a long pause as I finished my meal, I got up to clean the dishes a bit.

I walk back towards the phone as the screen lights up.

(#1 bff asshole): … yeah. Are you okay? Do you want me to protect you and be your hero? Don't fall for me tho ;)

I roll my eyes at this as I puff out air.

(Me): eww gross… but in all seriousness, yeah just a bit, I wouldn't mind the others coming to my apartment for a few days.

I close my phone as I begin to head into my room to get dressed, a simple casual outfit would be nice.

I grab my clothes to wear as I bolt to the restroom to take a quick shower.

The water feels nice on my skin as I sigh in relief. I jumped out, quickly dried my hair and did a bit of makeup.

A cute white skirt with a large pink sweater to keep me warm, white leggings and a small bag that looks like a cat.

I quickly get my keys and wallet as I head out to meet bakugou.

Today is gonna be my day and I'll enjoy it with my new friends!!

I stand outside as I begin to lock the door and start to walk away to the fresh air of japan.

[serial-killers-hope]

A Hopeful Loss.

A pt.2 of Ronin x God Reader

You are terrified of his aura.

Ronin is basking in your fear of the devil incarnate.

CW / TW :

- Anger Manipulation / Emotional Manipulation

Sit back and relax.

Now enjoy the show…

A Waste of A God.

You stared at the so-called “Butcher” that stood at the end of the Pier. Your hands folded so neatly against your lap as the aurora of your holiness laid above your head with a glow in the rain.

“Excuse me? I have no fear for someone who seems so… brash in his speech.”

Ronin chuckled as he stood up straight, his weapon now resting on his shoulder as The Butcher approached with a small smirk. His eyes seemingly focused on your wings as if he was conduction a vivisection in his mind. It was oddly satisfying to watch as he circled your god-like presence.

“Well, you are quite the god… Ain’t you?”

His voice is laced with a cocky tone but obvious to you that it held some disdain. It oddly made you want more thank you realized. You brushed it off, letting him continue to talk.

“You and your damn holiness. I bet you’re basking in this, this goddamn attention. I bet you crave praise…” He stops in front of you with a dark gaze. “I bet you think you’re better than all of us so-called mortals.”

You hesitate for a second, your lips pursed in contemplation as you shook your head to signal that it wasn’t what you wanted nor was it your intention to gain his attention.

It made The Butcher laugh once more.

Your chest felt warm at the laugh, though you chalked it up to your mortal body simply reacting to his statement. It was honestly embarrassing.

“I wonder what you look like under that veil…”

Your eyes widen slightly as you take a small step back, your wings ruffling slightly.

“You sure you’re a god? You look more like an angel than anything. And I hate angels like you…”

You frown a bit and nod. Bowing your head.

“I am indeed a god. I have this form for-“

“Yeah yeah. Somethin’ something about being a divine being. I fucking get it.”

You can see him roll his eyes as he slowly inched his face closer to yours. Laughing slightly as he leaned into your ear with a whisper.

“I’d like to see what makes you tick…”

Your cheeks dust pink as you pull away, your brows furrowed as he watched you move away. The Butcher seemed obviously amused by your reaction with a agonizing grin.

That goddamn grin.

“Awe, how cute. A god who gets nervous over a little statement like that? Hilarious don’t you think?”

Your eyes trailed down to the weapon in his hand, his grip obviously tight on it. It worried you, your eyes slowly traced up to his own as he chuckled. You knew ‘The Butcher’ really wasn’t his real name. Like, who names their child like that?

“And now, here we are. Please spare me the embarrassment and say your name. I cannot fathom how you mortals make these horrendously stupid names and give them to yourselves or others. It’s ignorant at best.”

The Butcher oddly hums in agreement. His hand lowered the bar onto the ground, he slowly leaned onto it like a cane to support himself.

“Ronin. Just Ronin… you don’t need nothin’ else.”

[steddieunderdogfics]

A Certain Type by ann_anotherthing

Rec'd by Anonymous on this previous ask

@anniebass

Rating: Explicit

54,650 words, 8/8 chapters

Archive Warning: Creator chose not to use

Tags: Mutual Pining, idiots to lovers, Eddie POV, Angst, Porn With Plot, or like plot with porn it'll take a while to get there, Slow Burn, Eddie the slut, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Summer Vacation

Summary:

I mean, yeah, of course he has a type, duh. It’s big hairy guys for him. Eddie likes bears, the taller and meatier, the better. And it works for him, it really does, until they're done with tentacle monsters, demonic bats, fire and brimstone and snack-sized apocalypse, and he realizes that, huh, ex-douchey ex-jocks apparently are his type, too.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of our Birthday Celebration! The theme this weekend is Time Skips.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[berryispunk]

This Town's Too Small

pairing: Priest Frankie x OFC

This is part 2 of "Nothing You Can Do Will Save Me" and contains heavy topics such as domestic violence and alcohol abuse so be warned before reading.

Part 1 readable here

summary: Frankie is full on left to his own devices after he fled the confessional. One day you appear at his office with matters to discuss.

tags/warnings: domestic violence, alcohol abuse, LONGING, YEARNING, mutual pining, did i say longing ? , slight power indifference, maybe the hint of dom! Frankie, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious Guilt, Catholicism, small (?) age difference (Frankie is mid 30’s, Lucy beginning of 20’s), sexual tension, AU, Catholic Church Core, dirty thoughts, small town, inner turmoil, a hint of soft Frankie,we meet reader aka my OFC named Lucy, she has hair and green eyes, no other physical discription

word count: 3,4 k

When Frankie didn’t see you in service the day after, he wasn’t too concerned. It was another type of relief, creating even more distance for him to calm down - to sort through his racing mind and his aching body. But as it became two Sundays in a row he grew restless. You used to be in service, front pew every Sunday. Always on time. You were basically part of the furniture at this point. Your rightful place in church like the altar and the confessional. Your absence left him queasy, wandering around, tracing the aisles and backrooms of his little church like a caged animal waiting for you all the Sundays that followed, opening the church way before it was time and leaving it open until the sun hung low and created a golden hue through the stained glass. 

He didn’t see your dad either. Not that he cared about him anyways. Frankie made vows renouncing moral judgements, one of them being prejudice. He wasn’t allowed to judge your father from the things he was told and heard from people of his perish but he found himself doing so anyway. The unmistakable drinking problem oozing from his every pore, red cheeks and swollen face a clear indication of  his heavy drinking. Frankie didn’t need a doctor to get that. 

He saw the signs in his army brothers many times when they lost themselves in the bottom of cheap booze bottles. Starting with the first shot in their morning coffee, making jokes about how it woke them up easier. Trying to hide it in the beginning but failing miserably as soon as the drinking took over their life completely - dictating it until all they could think about was their next fill. It made them short tempered, weak and frail. 

And your dad was all that too, despite being a broad and big man, he seemed so small despite his body size. Frankie noticed his trembling hands when he took the wafer during the communion and his cloudy eyes that didn’t focus fully. He knew all the signs, but he decided to look away and trust God to lead your father the right way. 

For sure he would’ve offered support for him whenever needed. But your father would refuse anyway, he had it already with the old priest so he just watched quietly as his misery went on. 

It wasn’t until one Sunday that gossip spread around church like a wildfire. Whispers so loud, it was hard for Frankie to overhear them. 

“I heard the girl has bruises on her face because Jack lost his temper during one of his escapades. Poor girl. I bet first it was their mother and now she’s the punchbag,” one of the older ladies said to her pew neighbor, her hand covering her mouth but Frankie heard it oh so clearly. Her judgement woven through every syllable, making them taste bitter on his own tongue even though they weren‘t his own. 

It made his blood boil. The mere thought of your father laying a hand on you, his own flesh and blood, his child he was supposed to protect, was too much for Frankie. The ugly side of rage rearing its head even if he should know better. If all they said was true, what could he possibly do?

Sure, if he was a regular guy he would beat the shit out of him for hurting you until the bastard couldn‘t see straight without any hesitation.

But right now Frankie was your local priest, a guide for many and just the thought of being violent towards a member of his church itself was considered sinful. 

Still, he couldn’t help it. The image of you in his mind, bruised, terrified and lost took his air to breathe. It made his chest constrict with a huge and probably irrational feeling of protectiveness he tried to shove deep inside. 

Absolutely nothing could’ve prepared him for the moment you stood in front of him on another Sunday after service. He hadn’t seen you during mass, as you waited for him at his office door in the back of the church. Gaze demurely towards the ground, your shoulders slumped and suddenly so small he wished for nothing more than to hold you close. Even though your gaze was fixed on the ground and you tried to hide behind your hair, he could see it clearly: the bruise on your right cheekbone. Its color was already fading into green and brown hues but still noticeably obvious. You had to feel his intense stare because you also tried to cover up with your hand. 

“Do you have a moment, father?” You simply asked and your voice is so thin he didn’t even know if he‘d heard your correctly. 

He nodded and unlocked the office, ushering you inside with his hand splayed over the small of your back before he said, “Sit down”, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. 

He sat down behind it, clasping his hands and leaning onto them as he started looking at you even more closely taking a seat across from him. The woman in front of him was nothing like the one he was used to see every Sunday. She didn‘t look the same and she didn‘t sound the same. The woman in front of him was an empty shell.. And it affected him more than he was willing to admit. 

He kept silent, tentative, afraid that if he spoke up you might run away like a deer in the headlights. So he waited, taking a deep breath and observing you. 

Nervously fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, eyes fixed on your hands and the whole body language so muted like somebody had put on a dampener. Afraid to take too much space in this world, in this room and it made him angry. What could have possibly happened that made you change so much? The gentleness and optimism you were usually radiating into the world was replaced by this little terrified girl who didn‘t even dare to speak up. It was none of his business, it shouldn't be but still he found himself wanting to know who he had to teach a lesson for causing this change in you. 

When the silence became suffocating, he ultimately asked, “What happened, hija?” His baritone voice so imposing in the small of the office it made you flinch for a second and his eyebrows furrowed in concern. 

“I fell,” you lied. He knew, he felt it. 

“I don’t have to remind you that lying is considered a sin, do I?” he asked, his voice authoritative and for this one time in his life he felt like him being domineering could benefit this situation. 

“No father,” you answered as you kept fiddling with your skirt fabric, your legs tightly pressed together and your gaze fixed on your hands. 

“Good. So I ask you again: What. Happened?” There was this unmistakingly dominant tone to him now. 

“It’s…,” you took a deep breath. “My dad….” 

He knew it. He saw the signs, he heard the gossip, he saw how unkindly your father dragged you out of church one day.  But he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Your father did this to you?” 

“Yes.” 

“How?” 

“He…” you audibly swallowed. “He was drunk, he already came back drunk from work. Usually it’s not like this, mostly it’s after dinner. I was in the kitchen preparing said dinner when I lost my grip on the salt cellar and it fell and busted. It– it happened so fast I—” 

You started to visibly shake at the memory. The words seemed to come from your mouth like a waterfall, finally flowing free.

“He stood up from the dining table with such force the chair fell back with a loud noise and then he slapped me, twice. Telling me, ‘You’re as useless as your mother’ and I looked at him. I- I couldn’t believe what I just heard. I mean, my dad was never the most loving father figure but this was low, even for him. He told me to clean up the mess I made and that he wasn’t in the mood to eat my muck so he left and got himself something from Suzie’s diner.” 

Frankie bristled at your words, every one of them stoking his rage further. His fists clenched and unclenched under the desk as he lowered his gaze and gritted his teeth. He tried so hard to keep calm for your sake even if every fiber in him screamed for teaching this low-life that called itself your father a lesson. He would love to, but he knew he couldn‘t. He made vows, he knew better than anyone else that wrath was one of the seven deadly sins but still he couldn't ignore the rage that creeped up towards him. Frankie used to be known for his short temper, especially in the last years of serving.Trauma did the rest, but ever since he left and joined the seminary he found himself getting calmer by the day. 

Well, until this instant apparently. His voice sounded more strained than he‘d liked as he found it again to talk calmly even if his whole body was vibrating with resentment.

“Was it the first time this happened?” 

For a moment you hesitated to answer before you spoke up,

“Well.. It was the first time he hit me so hard, yes.” 

Frankie couldn’t believe his ears. This wasn’t the first time? 

Why had nobody told him before? 

How could the old priest have overlooked this?

“How long?“ he pressed out between still gritted teeth.

“How long what?”

“For how long has he been violent towards you?” 

“Since my mother left. He’s frustrated I guess. He hit her a few times too if I recall correctly, but not as frequently as me.”

You sounded like you were telling him the most nonchalant thing when it was so far removed from that. 

“Hija….” he started but was interrupted by you. 

“Lucy. Well, Luciana but everyone calls me Lucy,” you said and finally you dared to look up at him as your eyes met his, their green so much bleaker than he remembered.

He held your gaze for a moment without replying, mulling over the new information he just got before he retorted, “Lucy Davis, is it?” Hint of a smile on his face. 

“Yes, father,” you nodded and gave him the softest smile in return that made his stomach drop. It wasn‘t that he hadn‘t known your name before, of course he had, but you introducing yourself formally had a lot more weight. 

“Can I know your name too father, or is this against the code?” you teased with the corners of your lips still up.

He chuckled deeply. 

“You can know my name, but you’re not allowed to call me that. At least not outside of this office…” he warned and your head made a small nod in agreement.

He tilted his head a bit, rubbing the skin of his neck mindlessly as he stated, “It’s Frankie. Well, technically Francisco. But everyone used to call me Frankie.” 

Your answer was a beautiful toothy smile. 

“Frankie Morales?” you reassured yourself. 

“Yes, ma'am,” he smirked while the irony of echoing the way you introduced yourself just moments ago wasn‘t lost on him. 

“I like that”, you finally said, still a faint smile on your face. “Suits you, Frankie.” 

The way his name rolls off your tongue so effortlessly felt electric and made his heart skip a beat. 

Shit. 

He cleared his throat before he continued speaking, “Did you tell anyone else about this?”

You shook your head. 

“Do you want to press charges?”

“It’s my dad, I can’t–”

“Of course you can. What else do you want to do, Lucy?”

You sighed as you slumped deeper into the chair, burying your face in your hands. The lighthearted moment seemed forgotten. “I don’t know… It’s just that I’m still saving money so I can move closer to my sister. But it’s still a couple hundred bucks… And it’s not that easy; it’s still my home and he’s still my father…” 

Frankie’s first impulse was to say that it was easy indeed from his point of view. Your father was a violent man and shouldn’t be allowed to call himself a parental figure anymore. Instead he bit the inside of his cheek and decided against it as he replied, “I get it. Can I help in any way?” 

“I wouldn’t know how, father…” 

“Frankie,” he reminded you as you looked at him, your brows crunched in confusion and wasn‘t that the cutest fucking thing he‘s ever seen. 

“Yeah, uh…Frankie, I’m sorry,” you murmured. “No need,” he assured you and your lips twitched up in a hint of a shy smile. “Just thought it’s less formal ‘s all…” 

You nodded. “It is indeed, but it feels kinda weird though.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he proclaimed.

Your eyes studied him for a moment, almost as if you were trying to gauge his reaction but he just held your gaze and nodded softly before he stood up and walked around the desk, leaning against the front of it, both hands left and right of his hip. 

The distance between you both was way smaller than a moment ago and in this close proximity all feelings he desperately tried to bury bubbled up again. His gaze drifted to your soft pink lips before they found your eyes again. It was just a second but he was sure you registered them anyway as you mirrored his eye movement and it felt like back in the confessional again. The air was too thick to breathe, his chest painfully tight and his lower body having a life of its own as he shifted a bit to make room for the growing excitement in his pants before he broke the breathless silence.

“Wish I could do more for you. But you know I can’t because of my duty to maintain confidentiality. I am still glad you told me…” And every word was true.

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed so deeply and defeatedly it tugged at his heartstrings. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…” you said quietly. 

His eyebrows shot up in concern as you abruptly stood up. “I-I should go…” you stuttered.

He was frozen for a moment by the sudden broken tension that you were almost at the door.

“Wait!” he calls out as he reached for your wrist which caused you to look up at him, your eyes full of conflicted emotions. 

“Stay..” he pleaded. 

“And then what?” you asked, your eyes on his hand around your wrist before they searched his face again. 

“We can talk, figuring something out. I really want to help you, if.. if you‘d let me,” he tried to reason softly with you. 

“The people will talk if they see me leaving your office, Frankie. I know they already talk enough about my family as it is. I don’t need anymore of that gossip evolving around me. The whole town’s too small for keeping secrets.”

He knew you’re right, of course he did, but for God’s sake he wanted you to stay. To get to know you better, to see your beautiful smile more, just having you around. He knew he shouldn‘t think about this in the first place. He was your priest, he‘d just started working here and you were so young, so damn young. All valid reasons that spooked around his mind. But so close to you all he could focus on was his longing as he unconsciously closed his grip around your wrist tighter, pulling you closer to him until your  chest was almost touching his, your gazes locked, your breath hitching slightly as you croaked out his name helplessly and it was all the invitation he needed. 

He closed the insignificant distance, hand reaching out to cup your bruised cheek, thumb tracing over it feathery light , afraid it may hurt, but you didn‘t even flinch . His thumb continued gently tracing the lines of your bottom lip while his other hand tangled in your hair. He stopped, waiting for you take a step back, whether your face held any sign of hesitation. But it didn’t so he dipped his head to be more on your level, your lips parted but your eyes still fixed on him. Your warm breath ghosting over his lips, making his skin prickle with anticipation. He was so close, so close to losing control, to just give in to what he‘d been fighting for weeks and was now eating him alive. 

Suddenly there was  a knock at the door, a painful reminder that what he so desperately yearned for was so far out of reach that he growled in frustration. A second, more insistent knock was the final nail in the coffin.

“Father Morales, are you there?” A scratchy voice came from the other side of the door. 

It’s Mrs. Miller, he didn‘t have to look to know. She came over every other Sunday to check on him, sometimes offering some homemade cookies which tasted like heaven and just have a talk for a while, praying with him and going her way again when it was way past noon. She was rather lonely it seemed so Frankie gladly took his time to talk to her, hell, he was lonely too sometimes. And if talking to this old lady killed time and resulted in cookies, who was he to deny her? 

He grew to like her, but right now he would have rather liked to curse her. 

“I am here, one moment please,” he hollered through the closed door and his eyes found yours again as he straightened back up and let go of your face, your cheeks pink from embarrassment or perhaps arousal, he wouldn’t be able to tell. 

You didn‘t say a word as Frankie opened the door wide, Mrs Miller standing closely behind it as her gaze drifted between him and you, her eyes slightly narrowed. 

“Are you busy, father?” Mrs Miller asked with the kind of tone that was extra friendly when in reality she was just nosy, but Frankie shook his head in response.

“We just finished talking. I am free now,” he assured the old woman. 

“How about you take a seat already? I‘ll join you in a second, Mrs. Miller,” a polite smile on his face and Mrs. Miller gave you a passing inquisitive glance before she stepped into his office, leaving both of you alone in the doorway. 

He gently stroked his thumb on your upper arm, seeking the contact. “Are you okay?” he asked, afraid he might have overstepped a line. 

You nodded in response, your eyes searching for his, probably a bit abashed. Your gaze lingering on his lips for a fragment.

He lowered his voice even more so Mrs Miller couldn’t hear him properly as you stood outside of his office with the door slightly ajar. 

“Will you see me again?”

“I don’t know if I–” you broke off, clearly battling with yourself. Your inner turmoil as clear on your face as he felt it inside himself. 

“Okay,” you ultimately say and he rubbed your arm gently. 

“Good,” he smiled and you mirrored it with a small one on your own. 

“Have a good day, fa–... Frankie,” you bowed slightly, whispering his name quietly like it was a sacred thing. He smiled lopsidedly in return.

“You too, Lucy,” he nodded and watched as you turned on your heels and walked away, your hips swaying and he couldn‘t help but stare. His body reacted like it always did when you were around. 

“If you need anything…” he called after you, but you don’t turn around as your figure got smaller with every step. 

When you were out of his eye sight, he went back into his office with a deep sigh, closing the door behind him and for the rest of the day he wasn’t able to focus even a second on Mrs. Miller's words or her cookies. 

my masterlist in case you’re curious for more :)

next part series masterlist

[betabites]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: RWBY Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long Characters: Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Canon Compliant, Bumbleby Week 2025 (RWBY), Suffering Weiss

Weiss reviews her latest accommodations for Yang's entertainment.

Takes place during Volume 5, between Chapters 8 and 11 (My BMBLB fic index).

Written for Bumbleby Week 2025: Day 5: WF Blake x Branwen Yang AU. ( @bumblebyweek-blog )

[numbr2-pencil]

Winter

written by Number2_Pencil

It has been five years since the hunchback was forced upon him, five years of distraction from his great work. Frollo, determined to seize power as the highest judge in the city, is held back further when he is tasked with the education of a new arrival in the royal court. But Frollo has no desire for a page, a pupil, an assistant or otherwise - least of all if that person is a shameless girl with a smart mouth. She quickly proves to be a distraction for the judge. He must determine what to do about this newest problem.

Rated Explicit for mature themes, violence, explicit sexual content, physical, emotional and sexual abuse. CW: language and canon-appropriate racial slur; physical, emotional and sexual abuse; non-consensual sex acts.