#to him the one who possesses is on equal footing to the one who is possessed

[a-most-beloved-fool]

y'know, a lot of people like to write possessive Spock in spirk fics, where he claims Jim as his own, but I kinda feel like he's less likely to say that Jim is his, and more likely to say that he is Jim's.

[hoshigray]

Hey 🫶🏻 Can I request having sex with Sukuna when he is extremely jealous? Like reader is kinda popular and other guys always tryna flirt with her and shit (she is not interested ofc) So when Sukuna saw another man shooting his shot he needs to blow off steam by fucking you dumb 🤕 and he saying shit like “what a good little cocksucker, maybe I should record you and send this video to all those bastards, so they would know who’s dick you’re gagging on” 😭 I’m so sorry if this is too specific, feel free to ignore 😭

Love your works 🥰

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc ofccc !! and ty for loving my stuff~

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and Sukuna are college seniors - rough sex - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - oral (m! receiving) - dumbification - choking - backshots + legs-up positions - degradation (cocksucker, dumb bitch, slut, whore) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - pet names (dove, little girl, princess, woman) - possessive behavior (it's sukuna, duh) - use of a phone; sexual photography and videography - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of tears and spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

“—Khaahh, oohhh!! Sukuna, pleasee, it hurts—Ahhhnn...!”

“Who said you’re in any position to tell me how to handle you, woman?… Fucking shit, you’re tight as hell…”

Everyone knows that you are off-limits. Knowledge of this fact is the bare minimum when dealing with the one known as “Sukuna’s girl” — no one should dare lay a finger or bat an eye on his woman. And yet, somehow, Sukuna continues to find strays that think this rule doesn’t apply to all. 

He saw it not too long ago today when a guy came your direction at the hall, concealing himself in the shadows to eavesdrop. The junior was dumb enough to invite you to some get-together, foolish enough to think he should even be speaking to the partner of the cold and intimidating Ryōmen Sukuna. 

You were the most popular girl in the class year — expected as Sukuna wouldn’t deal with someone who wasn’t [barely] on equal footing as him. However, unlike him, you carried a much kinder cadence. You greet others with sweet words, converse with professors in a mutual light, and engage with everyone with a compassionate and tranquil soul. — the complete opposite compared to your boyfriend. So, of course, it would be hard for you to turn away people when they come to you for guidance or opinions. 

In this case, you had expressed to the junior that you weren’t interested and had plans to study at your boyfriend’s apartment later. It wasn’t a complete lie, yet a respectful diversion that was expected of you and pleased Sukuna observing.

However, the dull-witted brat put his hand on your shoulder and continued to press on, emphasizing that you’d miss out on people wanting to have a good time with you. A ballsy thing to remark as if saying your boyfriend holds no priority over some boring party. Besides, the man had to stop the itch of coming out of the shadows to strangle the kid for laying his hands on you.

Nonetheless, you gracefully pushed his hand aside and apologized again for declining his offer before heading on your way. The situation was disentangled, both parties carrying on with their days. But that wasn’t enough to calm the salmon-haired man. 

Especially when you were in his apartment, protected under his gaze the entire time; you were sitting across from him at the coffee table while sorting through your coursework, unaware of the fixed look of his red eyes on your frame. Because all he could do was look at you, replaying the interaction from earlier today. 

It all angered him deeply — how the junior said your name so casually, the laughs you shared with him, and the touch on your shoulder. Everything from that moment added fuel to the fire scorching in his gut. He couldn’t relax, knowing there were still imbeciles who had the gall to act so familiar with you, his princess. 

The twitch of his brow couldn’t cease, same with the bounce of his knee – his nerves having an inner battle of maintaining a low profile. And being the caring piece in this relationship, you noticed. You blinked up to where he sat, “Is everything okay?” 

Of course not, woman. As much as he wants to put all the blame on the guy, Sukuna felt that you also played a part in this charade. To him, you were just as worse as that fucker. How could you, his precious dove, allow such trash to be so close to you? Allowing that thing to touch you was such an insult to him, downright disrespectful to the man you call your boyfriend. And the fact that you didn’t think of telling him — believing that you could keep this as a small matter insignificant to his awareness — left a sour taste in his mouth.

In his philosophy, Sukuna knew you were in the wrong as well. And for that, you would also have to be dealt with by him, to be reminded of your place in all this.

“Ohoooo! Ooof!! ‘kunaaaa, your fingersss…! Too fast, please slow—Daaahhh!!”

He’d smack your wet cunt, forcing you to grip his satin sheets. You’d instantly try to close your legs, but Sukuna wasn’t having any of that, quick to pinch the skin of your inner thigh to correct you. 

“Dumb bitch,” he throws insults, void of caring that you were on the brink of tears. He brings a hand to your throat, resulting in you gagging from your circulation being cut off. “I told you to keep those legs open. First, you let some fucker touch you, and now you can’t obey me when necessary? Do you enjoy disrespecting me like this?”

“Ahck! I–hic–I’m sorryyy,” he could feel you clench on his fingers, gripping them as if you refused to let them go.

It humored Sukuna, who effortlessly removed his digits to give your slit another harsh slap that made you gasp for air. An action proved difficult with his whole right hand constricting your airways. “Are you? How can you be sorry when you’re latching onto my fingers like a slut?” His hold on your neck goes tighter; your hands claw at his forearm, a desperate plea that doesn’t sway him. “Say it like you mean it, Y/n.”

“Khh..Ahh—Please, forgive me, Sukuna…!” Your apology came through wheezes, tears now welling up to fall on your pretty face, yet you knew it wasn’t enough. “I should have…Never let that junior tou—Mmmph! …Touch me… I’m your princess, only yours.”

A pink brow is lifted, but his expression remains unchanged. With one last slap to your leaking chasm, Sukuna lets go of your throat for you to cough and gasp as much air as you can. While you do that, he removes his turtleneck and unbuttons his dark jeans, bringing his briefs down to spring his erection out before lying back onto the pillows against the bed headboard. “Prove it then,” his voice has you turn to listen. “Suck me off the way I like it.” 

You are in no position to resent him, crawling towards him on all fours and immediately going to work. Your tongue greets his reddish-pink glans with swirls, licking his frenulum and nibbling on the skin before taking the head to your mouth. You lather his cock with your spit as you bob your head, hallowing your cheeks to take in every inch while your hand glides up and down his shaft. 

“Nnmph, fuck,” Sukuna groans at the feeling of your feverish sucks of his cockhead, your hand stroking him while you tend to him with your mouth feels too good. He peers down to watch you suck hard on his tip, and you return his gaze with a hooded look while sucking on his balls, causing him to hum. You then bring the tip back into your lips, making raunchy noises as you take his girth and lick his precum. 

“Heh, what a nasty little girl,” he comments after you exude a trail of spit onto his dick before hurriedly slurping him back inside your warm mouth. “I outta take a picture of you…No, a video is better.” He’s pleased to see your watery eyes twinkle with dread when he pulls out his phone from his jean pocket. He slides to open the camera application, “Maybe I should show that fool how such a good cocksucker you are for me.”

“S–Sukuna, please, anything but—Mmmm!” Again, no one said you were in a position to speak out of turn. Hence why, your boyfriend grabs your cheeks roughly with a single hand. Crimson eyes pierce through your fragile skin, and your figure fills with fright within milliseconds. 

“What did I say about giving me orders?” His tone is enough to send shivers down your spine, his nails denting your cheeks. “Does my woman want me to expose them for the filthy whore they are? Cause I couldn’t care less if I one day start leaking these shits and have your reputation crumble in seconds as a lesson.”

A tiny bit of you wants to believe he wasn’t serious; however, the single tear shed from your unblinking eyes tells a different conscience. You reply with a shaky breath and a quivering lip. “No, Sukuna...Please forgive me.”

He releases your chin with a push of the thumb. “Then get back to it, dove.” The sweetness of that pet name wasn’t present as he smacked your cheek with his length. You listen to him, taking him back into your throat with a euphoric mewl while cupping and kneading his balls. He sneers and presses the record button, “Just like that, princess.”

And don’t think that it ends there — because it doesn’t. 

“Ahhhnn! Oooooh, my God, ‘Kuna..’kunaaaa, I can’t—Ahahnn!”

“—Nngh, that’s right, Y/n; scream for me…Fuck, this tight ass pussy…”

Sukuna now has your face down ass up, pinning you to the satin mattress by the shoulders and hammering his bare cock right into your messy cunt. Your cries are muffled by the sheets you bite into, tears streaming down hot cheeks as your boyfriend plows himself deep side your core. The commotion coming between your sexes fills his bedroom outside of the squeals that bounce against the walls.

Your figure jolts with every thrust, Sukuna’s pelvis smacking on your ass that stings with hot skin after taking onslaughts of slaps from his hands. Your clitoris, exhausted from the constant tweaks and pinches, rests with the cool air treating the sore button. Sweat is covered all over your nude body, evidence that you and your boyfriend have been going about this for a long while, and of course, you’re getting a bit fatigued and overly sensitive to his every touch. But you know he doesn’t care; this is all for your punishment.

Sukuna throws your butt another smack, having your vaginal walls instinctively contract around his girth. He hisses with a grin, “Damn, I love seein’ you like this.” His eyes trail down from your sweaty shoulders, following your spine and hips, down to your ass, where he sees the insertion of his dick being swallowed by you. Seeing the white, soapy ring shielded around his cock makes him bite his lip. “All sore and dirty for me…Mmmph, gripping on me like a slut, going dumb on my cock.”

His hips then propel erratically, having your howl with eyes shooting up. You were too far gone to think of proper thought, with your brain churned into mush and your head pounding nonstop. The heat on your face is just as unbearable as the throbbing sensation down south. Your trembling legs try so hard not to give in and slump, yet you can’t lie; you’re tired, sore, and sticky all over. 

“Nmaahh! OhhhJesussss, ‘kuna, pleaseeee, lemme cummm—Mmaahh!” Another smash to your ass, followed by a pinch to your clitoris to juxtapose with the slow strokes he uses to massage the delicate spots of your walls.

“Why do you think I should let you cum, woman?” He swipes on your clit, listening intently to the whines that climb higher with the brush of his finger. 

Your words come out in slurs, yet you must answer to him. “I’m shorryy, I didn’t mean to—oh, fuck…do you wrong. Yer the only man who can touch me, wound me,” You peer over your shoulder to see Sukuna, an action that has him release your clit and hear what you have to say. “And love me…just as I love you, and only you. No one else can have me like you…Hahhh, I’m yours, both in mind and body…” Salmon brows furrow as you continue. “I love only you and want only you to touch me, ‘Kuna..Please forgive me, I won’t do it again…”

He was already sold once you turned to look at him, you little minx. Your watery eyes suddenly struck his heart — you are the only thing in the world that could do that, his little dove. He can tell by your heaves and pants that you wish to rest, that you had enough of his lesson and want to be in his embrace. 

However, no unpleasant deed shouldn’t go unpunished. Within a second, Sukuna has you flipped on your back with your legs brought up to his left shoulder. He brings out his phone once again, swiping to put on the camera after inserting his length back inside you.  “Hey, princess,” he calls to you. “Why don’t you say hello to the camera for me? Want something to look back to.”

You gulp with a dry throat, sheepishly smiling at the camera phone. “Hello, I’m Y/n—Ooohh!!” He surprises you with more ruts to your chasm, clamping onto him as if your life depended on it. 

“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He calls out to you with a steady breath, as if his pelvis wasn’t poisoning deep to grind your insides to evoke pretty moans to escape puffy lips. 

“Hahaaa!! I—Hnnph..I belong to Sukuna Ryō–hic…men…”

“Who does this pussy belong to, Y/n?” Ruts become harsher with every word.

“—Mmoohhh, fuuuhuck, it’s yours, only yoursss,” you voluntarily take up your legs and hold them from behind your knees, bringing them to your chest. “Me and this pussy belong to only Sukuna, no one else can touch me…!”

Sukuna pans the phone down to the union of his dick, moving to and fro from your slit. The white essence painting both sexes was making an erotic mess, strings of his come covering his girth with every push and pull. He chuckles to himself. “This right here is all mine, ya hear?” He looks at you to see you nod your head hurriedly. “Don’t you ever forget that, understand?” You nod again, clenching around him when he drops the phone and leans towards you to place his hands on yours.

It’s here that he finally finishes with you, pounding his hips into you as hard as he can. Your voice gets higher and higher, your headache getting intense with the ruts on your cunt. And with how he stretches and grazes your walls? Jesus, it was terrible to control yourself, your orgasm increasing by the second. “I wanna cumm, ‘kunaaa, let me cum on you, pleaseee….!!”

“Heh, desperate to tighten some more for me, huh.” He adds more weight onto you, forcing you to submit to him. You shudder under his bow, “You may now cum, dove.” 

As if on command, you let yourself loose and allow the climax to finally be free, wailing during yet another crescendo as your vagina flutters around him for the fourth time that night. And Sukuna relishes the feeling of you tightening on him, doing excruciating slow strokes to enjoy the moment. 

“Hmmm, that’s it, just like that…Remember this, princess,” He bends down to lick the tears on your cheeks before kissing them. “Know your place.” He then brings the phone back up to close this session.

“Now smile for me.”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ header edit done by me, dividers by @/benkeibear.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Might as well be drunk in love: 2 of 3

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

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

A/N: Let the darkness begin.

GIF by sugajimin

Part 1

Tuesday Night, Day 1

Kim Namjoon opened the door, his dimples on display as he welcomed you in the mansion for the second time that night as though he was already expecting you. He looked warm and comfortable, donning out simple white shirt and grey sweatpants instead of his usual formal clothes. A damp towel hanged on his broad shoulders; his hair still wet from the shower he obviously took.

“Welcome home, little one,” he greeted lowly, pulling your reluctant form in. If he felt the way you dug your heels on the ground, he didn’t mention. He was just elated that you were here now. He couldn’t explain the excruciating pain that went through his body almost more than an hour after he dropped you off. He was only able to manage it when Hoseok messaged him, letting him know that you would be coming home with him, and only then did he feel the pain subsided.

For the second time, you stepped foot in the grandiose place of theirs. It was a strange juxtaposition, your cautious movements against Namjoon's determined pull. Funnily, you thought it was similar to the depiction of Lucifer dragging Persephone down to hell. Walking behind you was the intimidating man, Jung Hoseok. He was carrying your bags in his hand in a relaxed manner, opposite to how he was before. The amount of clothes he personally packed were staggeringly ridiculous. It was like he packed your whole belongings with the intention for you to never set foot in your own apartment again. In his other hand was your traitor of a cat that was purring as the man carried him in his arms. It was like your cat left you for a better life.

"You must have been exhausted," Namjoon's voice broke through the quiet, drawing your attention to his warm smile. His concern softened the edges of your weariness. “The day is too long for any of us. You should get your rest.”

You eyed Hoseok, unsure of how to act when he offered you a reassuring smile. “We readied your room, little one," Hoseok's voice was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his prior demeanor. Namjoon bade you good night, his large hand cupping your cheek tenderly before letting you go. With a beckoning gesture, Hoseok motioned for you to follow him, and you fell into step beside him, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders.

He opened the room to the far end of the right wing. Similar to the aesthetic of the house, the room was equally grandiose. The bed, positioned prominently in the center of the room, commanded attention with its regal presence. It was fit for a princess, you thought, with its lavish canopy and layers of plush bedding inviting you to sink into its embrace. Every detail spoke of luxury and refinement, from the gilded accents to the soft, muted colors that suffused the room with an air of tranquility.

Any other time you would have gushed over the beauty of this room, but not this time. And not with the stress that that love potion brought you! On top of that, you were in a strange place with your CEOs who were practically strangers up at this moment! It was more than understandable that you were acting wary of these two men. They were only two of the seven, and you were already displaced by them! What more if the remaining five were to face you now?

You looked over your lashes at the man who was putting your bags down in front of what looked like a huge walk-in closet, his face void of any negative emotions but the people pleaser and the anxious child in you made you voiced out what you were thinking.

“Are you mad at me?”

Your cat, on the other hand, was now roaming freely and inspecting his new home with a purr, uncaring of the stress that you were feeling. You knew that traitor had such an expensive taste that your cat would literally sell you for a piece of chicken. You couldn’t help but notice the amount of cat toys that were kept in the corner of the room, prompting you to think that this wasn’t a spur of the moment kind of thing.

Hoseok blinked owlishly as though you asked an utterly absurd question, one that would never happen. His brows furrowed before he offered you a reassuring smile. “What brought this on?”

You sighed dramatically before plopping down on a surprisingly soft and comfortable mattress. You were even unknowingly pouting, making him want to squish your adorable cheeks in between his hands and cooed down at you. “Well, because I may or may not have ruined your lives because of that drink. But in my defense, which I think is a very good and plausible one and it may actually stand in court, it was never my intention to make you ‘fall in love’ with me and that drink was only gifted to me! Don’t you think I should be given a less harsh punishment?”

“Punishment?” Hoseok repeated to himself, his head tilted to the side as he pondered the notion. Was living with them meant to be some sort of a punishment when this was a big house and you had seven men to cater to your every whim? They would literally give you the world should you asked. “No, honey. Listen, I’m not mad at you. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“I’m mad at you?” you asked with a hint of humor in your voice before flashing him a grin of your own. You were too adorable and funny, he gushed as he kneeled in front of you. Slowly as though gauging your reaction, he held your hands in between his, running his thumb in a soothing manner when you didn’t pull away. Hoseok couldn’t help but smile widely when he held you. It was such an exhilarating rush, he observed, one that he had never felt before.

In fact, it was an addicting feeling…one that he could not bear to lose.

“We’re not mad,” he began, his voice earnest as he looked up at you from his kneeled form on the carpeted floor. He never knelt for anyone, but for you, he would without any questions asked. “None of us are mad. This is merely a…unique conundrum. But we’ll figure it out. We always do. So don’t worry, okay?

We will take care of it.”

It was well after midnight when the five equally annoyed men strutted inside the mansion. Their faces were painted with discontent, their eyes carrying a certain weight of physical exhaustion and their movements that of strain from being physically away from you.

They were, in fact, practically gritting their teeth from the discomfort and pain.

Kim Seokjin was the first to stride into the room, the heavy oak double-doors slamming against their hinges so forcefully that even Namjoon grew concerned. He meant, for heaven’s sake, he had it custom-ordered from his favorite artist that specialized in wood carving! Anyway, it was a rare sight to see him display any negative emotion as he was always the brother that brought lightness to whatever tense situation he found them in. He was known for his penchant to be kidding around, cracking dad jokes left and right and his laughter was contagious. But those traits were nowhere to be found.

His voice was surprisingly deep as he directed his equally captivating eyes to their lead CEO with darkness even Jimin who was walking behind him found startling. “Don't forget, I'm the one who prepares your food, Kim Namjoon."

Namjoon blinked at that, his hold on his laptop loosening at his hyung’s words. “All is fair in love and war?” he supplemented sheepishly, his fingers lifting to flash him a peace sign to which his hyung merely rolled his eyes to before plopping down the huge sofa and closing his eyes, his long leg stretched out in front of him.

Next to display his displeasure was Park Jimin, the one that was the scariest when mad. “You should have just shipped us to Japan then I’d be able to at least buy my skincare products,” Jimin sassed as he rolled his eyes at the lead CEO. His nose was turned up high as he strutted in the room. Despite the long hours spent travelling, Namjoon could not see any evidence that any single blonde hair was out of place on Jimin’s. “I think I finally know what hatred feels like.”

Last to enter was Taehyung and Jungkook. In his own peculiar way, Taehyung was fake sobbing in Jungkook’s arms while the latter was pouting at Namjoon as he patted the back of the former. “I never thought I’d be betrayed by the person I look up the most!”

“Yah!” Seokjin suddenly opened his eyes in disbelief “You trust him the most when I spend all my money on your food from when you were 13 to now?!”

Jungkook merely nodded, his doe eyes seeing nothing wrong with what he said. Taehyung, on the other hand, suddenly stopped acting and stood up straight to face the occupants of the room. “How are we reduced to this: betraying each other?” his deep voice resounded over the room, holding a tone of certain seriousness. His dark eyes met theirs. “Aren’t we better than this? We are brothers. We are better than animals that kill each other in the wild to survive. We are civilized men who are in the top performers of the society, who are featured in every reputable magazine. We are men that are leaders of-”

“Weren’t you the first to betray us, hyung?” Jungkook suddenly asked, effectively cutting off his speech. His head was tilted to the side as he sat beside Seokjin who was actively pushing him away to no avail, grumbling about how he should sit beside the brother he trusted the most.

“That’s neither here nor there!” Taehyung’s volume increased from guilt, his eyes comically widening.

“How?! It’s literally here! And it’s still here!” Jimin shouted, further antagonizing his agemate to which Taehyung gladly took on. The screaming match went on, with Jin joining, whereas Jungkook chimed in every once in a while, clearly enjoying the ensuing chaos. Every now and then, though, he voiced out how much he missed you. Namjoon was massaging his forehead and quietly telling them to stop and to keep quiet because someone was sleeping. It was only Hoseok who was silently watching his brothers and doing a quiet headcount only to come up short.

“Guys? Aren’t we seven?” He broke his silence for the first time, effectively stopping the loud bickering of the brothers. “Where’s Yoongi?”

The loud bickering of his brothers faded as he slipped inside the mansion without them noticing. To be honest, he did not have the required energy to deal with them, much so when he could barely keep himself upright. He didn’t want to see that traitorous bastard, Kim Namjoon, for more than a second. They all had a piece to say but they were all morons, Yoongi thought. As he trudged up the last step of the stairs, he looked up and there was you.

Min Yoongi couldn’t believe his own eyes. He thought that it was his sanity breaking down from the physical pain he had been feeling since he parted from you, and decided to play cruel games with him in the form of you. But there was no way that you were actually here, right? There was no way you were standing in the hallway in your sleepwear…right?

On the other hand, you blinked and looked at Yoongi’s pale face. He looked like he was straining to hold himself upright, evidenced by his grip on the stair’s handrail. His hands were shaking and you were worried that any moment now, he would fall.

You were proven correct not even a second later.

You watched as his body swayed, his eyes closed and you were moving before you could even think of the repercussion. Without heeding to any of your friend’s warning about touching them, you stepped in just in time to steady his body. The momentum from his combined weight and the gravity made you stepped back as his head found its place on your shoulder. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad back to anchor him to you.

“Daepyonim Min,” you called for his attention, gauging his alertness while tapping your hand on his back with a sense of urgency. “Daepyonim Min, you need help. Let me call-”

“Little one,” you heard him breathed you in before speaking so slowly, a tone of disbelief in his voice. “You’re real, aren’t you?” His hand slowly cupped your cheek, needing to feel you, needing to know if the object of his love was truly here. “How?”

“I’m here…but it’s a long story. First, we need help. You’re not okay!”

“You’re here,” he repeated to himself, his voice that of wonder. “I-I’m okay now,” he replied with so much warmth as he struggled to lift himself up to look at you. “I just need to sleep. It’s been a long ass day,” he groaned, the ache from his head was slowly dissipating from the proximity to you, yet its intensity since they landed was at its highest. He knew it would take him the whole night to recuperate. But somehow, he knew he could do it easily with you by his side. He didn’t even care why you were here, or even how you got here. What was important was you were now here where you belong- with them.

Against your better judgement and completely unaware of the thoughts running in his head, you nodded as you followed his directions to his room. Just like his personality that you knew him of, his room was no non-sense in a way that all things were functional. It was apparent that the man favored minimalism and comfort over luxury. It was clean and uncluttered, with just the essentials neatly arranged. The bed, large and inviting, dominated the room, adorned with crisp white sheets and a fluffy comforter. A single nightstand stood beside it, holding a small lamp and a few books.

You helped him settle onto the bed, arranging the pillows behind him to support his weary body. He let out a contented sigh as he sank into the softness, his eyes closing momentarily in relief as the weariness slightly subdued.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with gratitude. His eyes held sincerity and warmth. The way he was looking at you, the way he was holding on to your wrist because he didn’t want to let you go only served as reminders of your guilt. He wouldn’t be acting this way if this was normal circumstances.

Your negligence that day brought you here. And those emotions he was showing you were not real, you reminded yourself.

"You're welcome," you replied softly with utmost sincerity, a gentle yet sad smile playing on your lips. "Do you need anything else before I go?"

He had you now, why would he let you go?

It was his rationale as he pulled you to lie beside him, the surprisingly comfortable bed and his enescapable hold were enough to tire you out, you pushing him away did nothing. Despite your inner turmoil, you found yourself yielding to his pull, sinking onto the bed beside him. The warmth of his body radiated against yours, a stark contrast to the chill of your guilt-ridden thoughts.

And when he whispered for you to stay, you did.

It was barely an hour later when Yoongi was awakened by the annoying buzzing of his phone. He looked at you, a smile tugging on his lips at how your mouth was agape as you slumbered off in his arms. You were just so adorable that he wanted to put you in his pocket. He grinned at that thought. He already felt better.

You were the cure, he was sure.

However, the headache seemed to be returning from the persistent phone calls he was getting. He sighed, picking up his phone carefully to not wake you up only to find out it was a videocall from Taehyung.

“Hyung! Where are you?” his deep voice resounded over the quietness of the room. Yoongi, on the other hand, had to lower the volume immediately.

“Shut up,” he admonished him quietly, careful to not arose you from your sleep.

“Are you…sleeping?! When we’re all worried about you?!” the camera spanned out to Seokjin who was eating calmly, lacking any evidence of worry that Taehyung was claiming while Jungkook was running in the background, looking for Yoongi in every corner and even under the furniture. Meanwhile, Jimin was on his phone trying to rank up on his games.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s clear that you’re all worried about me,” he noted in a deadpanned voice, not believing any bullshit coming from Taehyung’s mouth.

Namjoon entered the frame casually, his eyes taking in his hyung’s rested form. He had an inkling of suspicion as to why. “You look well-rested, hyung,” he stated his observation, his complexion looked healthy in comparison to Taehyung’s. Yoongi raised his brow at that. His initial theory that the span of time spent without you was making them sick only got stronger because of Namjoon’s healthier look.

“Did you find our gift?” Hoseok asked from behind the two men, casually hanging his arms on their shoulders. He was smiling. But his eyes held a certain darkness they usually didn’t have.

“I did. We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”

Wednesday, Day 2

“No one told me that we have an adorable new housemate.”

The six sleepy men sitting around the dining table looked up as soon as Park Jimin entered the room, in his arms was a fluffy cat that was actively hissing at him. He cooed down at it, softly stroking the thick fur with his hand that was now sporting claw marks.

“We’re already so close!” he announced with softness in his voice despite the repetitive kicks brought by the furry creature in his arm.

“I don’t think you are liked very much…” Jungkook quietly commented, his doe eyes went even larger at the bleeding scratches on his skin. As if sensing an opportunity to escape, the cat suddenly wriggled free from Jimin's arms and darted across the room, landing squarely in Hoseok's lap.

“Hi, my son! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked affectionately, reaching down to stroke the cat's fur.

“Hyung has a secret son!” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung in a scandalous manner, clutching his nonexistent pearls. Taehyung, who looked like he lived and fought through three wars from his exhausted form and his sluggish movement only nodded at Jungkook.

“Whose cat is that? Is that yours, J-hope?” Jin asked, pointing at the cat with his mug. He didn’t know that they now had a furry housemate. Additionally, he didn’t know that he was a cat person.

Namjoon just smirked at his brothers, “That’s not his.”

“My God, I am so tired,” Jimin sat next to Taehyung, his muscles aching with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his whole weight on his friend, seeking some semblance of comfort in their shared weariness.

"Everything hurts," Taehyung moaned, mirroring Jimin's sentiment. He glanced over at Namjoon, pleading silently for a solution. "We need her. Hyung, please. Do something," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Jungkook finally put down his spoon with a loud thud, standing up to look at them one by one. “Okay, I cannot be the only one curious about whose cat that is!” he pointed at the cat who only meowed back at him before shifting his finger to his hyung who was silently eating with a smile on his face. “And you, why do you look so good this morning, hyung, while the four of us look like we are 3 hours away from passing away?” he asked Yoongi, his doe eyes demanding answers from the chaotic bunch that only turned more chaotic as the morning wore on.

Yoongi, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee, raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's question. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement. "Well, Kookie, some of us are just naturally blessed with good genes," he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Excuse me?! Are you saying that I am not blessed with good genes?! Me?! The world wide handsome?! Now, you’re just outright lying!”

“Hyuuuuung, do something! I think I’m dying!” Taehyung shouted amidst the noise.

“Stop screaming you’re scaring my son!” Hoseok shot back all while covering the cat’s little ears.

“Whose cat is that even?!” Jungkook asked again in disbelief, the vein in his throat protruding from annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh my God, Taehyung! I already did something, okay?!” Namjoon finally raised his voice for him to hear.

“Ahhhhhhh, my head hurts and she’s the only cure! I have to go to her!” Jimin whined sadly, attempting to leave his chair slowly.

“In that state?!” Jin shouted at Jimin and Taehyung, already feeling the stress causing havoc on his otherwise beautiful face.

But Taehyung and Jimin were already halfway out of their chair, clutching their heads dramatically. "I can't take this anymore! I need her!" he wailed, his eyes darting around the room with desperation only to find you by some miracle.

“Little one…” he called, his voice small as though he couldn’t believe that you were truly there. It was like their pain manifested you, and heavens, it was worth it. He’d willingly go through this pain if it meant seeing you and having you here where you belonged.

With them.

“Good morning, has anyone seen my cat?”

Your voice, despite it being low, was sufficient to effectively stop the bickering among the CEOs. How they heard you amidst their own noise, you didn’t know. One thing was for certain, though. They were attuned to you like lovesick men did. Their eyes were on you with varying emotions. Jungkook was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung and Jimin, on the other hand, were relieved. Yoongi's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delight at the sight of you. Seokjin stared at you in disbelief, as if trying to comprehend how you managed to appear amidst the chaos. Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a sense of contentment and joy. The pair looked like they secured an extremely important deal and even won the lottery at the same day.

You didn’t see Taehyung moved but you certainly felt how his heavy body fell against yours. You certainly heard his sigh of relief even as he swayed on his feet.

And when you touched his hand to support him, that was when he fell.

Suffice to say, no one made it to the office today.

You were seated beside Taehyung on the sofa, his thighs plastered to yours as though any space was considered a sin. He had your hand tenderly imprisoned in his. On your other side was Jimin who had his head in the vee of your shoulders. You were their medicine, they were sure.

Meanwhile, you were anything but comfortable. You were never really a fan of skinship, always the one who was reserved and preferred physical distance when surrounded by people. And yes, you were aware that thousands, if not millions, would kill to be in your spot right now but that didn’t make you any more receptive to their proximity. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, not with the way they were watching you.

Especially not with the way Hoseok’s eyebrow raised whenever you even so much as attempted to move. His pointed gaze held you in place, a silent warning against any attempt to flee.

You were stiff. But you knew, and quite frankly you were starting to believe the effectivity and potency of that wretched potion. You already witnessed five of the seven men almost crumbled to the ground from the unbearable pain. There was no way that that was not connected to that potion.

 “When did the pain start, Taehyung-ah?” Seokjin asked as he flustered over the younger CEO. He was pouring hot tea for the two agemate, his innate mother instinct surfacing. Despite that, he couldn’t help but look at you with small smile on his lips. He was happy that you were here, truly happy for the first time in ages. It was like his heart calmed down, the darkness slowly vanishing from his mind now that you were in their vicinity. Now, he could just focus on taking care of you

“At around 6 pm…less than 12 hours after little one ran from me,” he finished with his signature pout, turning to you as though he was a puppy you kicked aside and was begging you to take it back. “I was so sad when you ran from me, little one.”

“You also ran from me,” Jimin added, his pouty lips protruding even more as he glared at you. “It deeply wounded me. I am still hurt over that, you know? I woke up so early just to see you.”  

“She also ran from me…” Jungkook's voice joined the chorus from his place on the floor with his back leaning on your knees, adding his own layer of disappointment.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Namjoon asked the peculiar man in concern, his worry lessening as Taehyung started to gain back his colors.

“Because! Hyung looked sicker than me!” Taehyung response was quick while pointing at Yoongi who was looking at them stoically. He looked bored, except when he turned to look at you and then all of a sudden, he was shooting sweet smile at your direction, his fingers forming heart sign. You blinked owlishly at his sudden display of affection.

“You idiot, he’s just naturally pale!” Seokjin admonished him even as he continued to feed him light snacks.

“Next time, say something when you’re not feeling well,” Hoseok broke his silence, a smile forming on his lips and you just knew it was fake. “Our little one is with us now. We no longer have to suffer, right, sunshine?”

The weight of Hoseok's words hung in the air, wrapped in the softness and faux innocence of his tone. It almost seemed like an innocent question, but you couldn't shake the feeling of caution that settled in the pit of your stomach. After all, it was Hoseok who ensnared you in his web and brought you into this situation.

Seokjin, sensing the tension between the two of you, directed your focus on him. His body was now turned to you, his form relaxed as he offered you a gentle and encouraging smile. “How did you get here, little one?”

“Daepyeonims Kim and Jung-“

“I take back what I said last night. I love you and you’re the best leader anyone could ever have!” Jimin suddenly said, jumping from his seat to cling to the aforementioned CEO. After which, the five of them listened to your retelling of how you got here.

“It’s true that we had an inkling of why we are acting…well, the way we are,” Seokjin noted after a lapse of silence, looking down at his hands as he did so. “It was the only plausible explanation, regardless of how illogical it was.”

“We weren’t- aren’t behaving normally. We thought back to everything that transpired during that day and the only deviation was our interaction with you.,” Namjoon took charge of the explanation, his voice steady and authoritative, as befitting a leader. “At first, the symptoms were bearable to say the least. I even managed to hold off for the whole day until I saw you in the elevator. And even then, I was already suffering. The pain was nothing I ever experienced before. All I could think about was you. All I craved was your presence. All I wanted that whole day was to go to you.”

Yoongi nodded, experiencing firsthand the excoriating pain last night. “Everything was a struggle. It’s like our organs were not functioning properly, like oxygen struggled to enter our lungs no matter how hard we breathed.”

“And you are the cure.”

You lifted your eyes to Park Jimin who sounded serious for the first time this morning. His smile was even missing from his face, but his eyes held genuineness. “You’re the only one we need, little one.”

But instead of feeling relieved, you felt suffocated, overwhelmed by the weight of their dependence on you. The realization that you held the key to their well-being filled you with a sense of panic, the walls closing in around you. You wanted to help them, to ease their suffering, but the burden felt too heavy to bear. With all seven of them relying on you, the pressure threatened to crush you under its weight.

As you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos, a sense of dread settled in the pit of your stomach. The repercussions of that potion were far greater than you could have ever imagined, and now, you were left to grapple with the consequences. “Until when?”

You untangled Taehyung’s arms from you and moved away despite the whine that left Jimin. You stood up, your back almost to the wall as you regarded them with your eyes. “Until when will you need me?”

“We don’t know, yet, my love,” Namjoon answered truthfully at the same time Taehyung.

“Forever,” his deep voice resounded over the room, the weight of his words heavy in the air.

Silence descended, thick and palpable, as the gravity of the situation settled upon each of you like a suffocating blanket. The only sound was the faint hum of the ventilation system, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within your mind.

Forever. The word echoed in your ears, reverberating with both promise and dread. The thought of being tethered to them indefinitely sent shivers down your spine, a chilling reminder of the magnitude of their reliance on you.

Jimin shifted uncomfortably, his eyes pleading as he reached out a hand towards you. "Please, don't leave us," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Your shoulders dropped down at his plea. You knew yourself all too well. You had to help them. You had to go at the bottom of this. You were going to be patient.

But patience was never your best suit.

You finally had it at exactly five in the afternoon. See you didn’t even last for 10 hours and you already felt suffocated. Anywhere you went, there would be at least two of them tailing you. Every time you turned to ask for space, they would be flashing you the sweetest smiles you were ever given. Every time you ran into Yoongi, he would blatantly offer you all his stocks; Jin was always seen to be carrying snacks around for you and trying to feed you; Namjoon would always try to herd you in his display room of paintings and sculptures; while Hoseok would always look at you then his phone and order you clothes that you wouldn’t even dream of buying from the price alone.

Meanwhile, the maknae line was always around you, beaming with energy and trying their very best to rizz you up. It was safe to say that they were doing their absolute best to make you lose your composure.

Which is why you abruptly stopped walking, turned around, and glared at the men behind you that almost crashed into each other, including your cat that was following you around the house.

“May I help you?” you asked, your brow raised as you waited for their answer as they looked at each other.

“Yes, little one. You definitely can help us. Let’s go over there and cuddle!” Jimin smiled angelically at you as he pointed upstairs to what you assumed was his room. See, this man looked so harmless. In fact, you thought he looked the sweetest among the seven, but his eyes could never fool you. You physically saw someone blushed so hard when he smiled at them, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he brushed his hair up like he was fond of doing.

On the other hand, Taehyung, ever the agreeable companion to Jimin, nodded vigorously, his boxy smile widening as he looked at you expectantly. Jungkook was bouncing on his feet, excited with the prospect that he got to have you in his arms despite his inability to meet your eyes at the moment.

Wednesday Evening, Day 2

“We need to talk,” you huffed as you pushed the three men inside what you assumed was the common room of this huge mansion.

Seokjin, who was already inside the room and enthusiastically playing his game, rapidly turned it off despite obviously winning to give you all his attention. His back was straightened after kicking his gaming console away. The way he was looking at you made you blushed, but you were deathly determined to not show it. You were terrified that if you gave in even an inch, then these men would gladly take a mile. You couldn’t let yourself drown in this scenario, and most of all, you shouldn’t let yourself fall for them.

These were just effects of that wretched potion. None of these were real.

“Yes, little one? What’s on your mind?” Namjoon’s voice suddenly disrupted your thoughts as he walked in the room, his posture relaxed. He intentionally brushed against your side, his hard muscles softly swaying your soft one, satisfying the call inside him to have you near him. He leaned against the table where Hoseok and Yoongi were working. They both gave you their attention as soon as you declared that conversation needed to be had.

“Speak your mind, sunshine,” Hoseok urged you gently with a smile on his face as though he didn’t terrify you the night before. Your eyes lingered on him, still unable to read his true personality. Or which among the versions he showed you were his realest?

Yoongi nodded when he saw you hesitated, giving you assurance you obviously needed to continue.

“I need space.”

Cue the tears from Jungkook, chaos from Taehyung and Jimin, rapid reasoning from Seokjin, dramatic clutching of heart from Yoongi partnered with a deathly glare to the who he assumed made you say those wretched word; maknae line, clenched of jaw from Namjoon and deafening silence from Hoseok. Despite the expected mixed reaction, one emotion rose above them all.

Panic.

As though they had one mind, the six CEOs turned to look at Namjoon, a plead for him to make sense of what was happening and to fix this for them. It was obvious that they needed you like air, if not more. Their survival hinged on you, and that was not even an overstatement.

Seokjin, ever perceptive, sensed the uncharacteristic struggle within the lead CEO. Namjoon’s jaw was clenched, a sure sign of his struggle to maintain composure in the face of the unexpected. In a move only Seokjin could execute with dramatic flair, he jumped away from you, creating a symbolic distance that echoed your plea. He was pointedly looking at the expanse of space between of the two of you as though this was what you meant when you knew he understood what you truly meant by space.

“There, little one,” Seokjin spoke softly, his voice carrying a weight that resonated through the room. His eyes were dark that held a mix of understanding and yet, a stubborn determination. “Space.”

You sighed, looking up at the peculiar-looking chandelier you just knew was Taehyung’s idea. “That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what do you mean?” Taehyung cut you off, his earlier tirade and childlike rebellion with his agemate were nowhere to be found and instead, who stood before you was an entirely different man. Had you looked closer, then perhaps you would have seen the swirling darkness in his eyes.

“You know we’d die without you. Why are you doing this?” Yoongi, who was still clutching his heart, spoke lowly. His eyes that you thought to be always emotionless were brimming with sadness. His words tugged at your heart.

But if they just let you speak, then they’d understood-

“Is that what you want?” Hoseok asked monotonously, and this time he didn’t look like the lively and full of sunshine CEO. This time, he looked like a dangerous man who was about to go off. He lifted his dark brow before standing up and circling to where you were. He was close, too close and yet, none of him was touching you. The height difference between the two of you made him seemed more intimidating as he leaned down to meet your eyes. “You want us to die, is that it? Hmm?”

“No-“

“Then what?”

“I just need space for myself-“

“But noona! I need you. We need yo-“

You turned to glare at Jungkook who actively gulped when he saw the daggers in your eyes. “Can you let me speak? Can you all let me finish?”

“Yes, noona. Sorry, noona. You’re so beautiful, noona,” he rapidly said as he formed hearts with his fingers, his smile was lovely as though he didn’t just annoy you.

“All of you,” Namjoon’s commanding voice echoed in the room, his draconic eyes set on you even as he addressed his brothers. “Sit down and let little one talk.”

Once they were all settled in with the five men sitting on the sofa, Yoongi not moving from his seat, and Namjoon standing tall- a deliberate choice, you thought, to let you know that you might have the floor but he still held the reins, you started explaining to them how you could not do this if it meant that you wouldn’t have any time for yourself. In order to leave this house once this was all over with your sanity intact, then you had to have rules and regulations like civil men did.

Yoongi's eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing your resolve. Jin shifted in his seat, his expression unreadable. Hoseok glanced between you and Namjoon, silently absorbing the tension. Taehyung and Jungkook remained quiet, their eyes fixed on you, waiting for your conditions. Jimin scoffed lightly.

“What do you propose?” Jimin asked, his velvet smooth voice seemed to be innocent had you not known that he identified as a Slytherin.

“2 hours each. I think that since there are seven of you, that would be 14 hours of my day-“

“Dibs to the remaining 10 hours!” Yoongi suddenly said, his hand shooting up and his face held determination and a hint of mischief. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Yoongi as he leaned back comfortably in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips.

Jimin raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable for a moment before a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Bold move, Yoongi," he remarked, his tone light but edged with amusement. "I, myself, am also vying for those ten hours, little one."

Yoongi shrugged nonchalantly, uncaring of what Jimin was saying. "I know what I want," he stated simply, crossing his arms as he leaned back further in his seat, looking supremely confident. “And anyway, now that I had her in my arms last night, I really don’t think I can sleep alone, anymore.”

“Excuse me?!” Taehyung stood up, facing Yoongi with disbelief in his face. “How did that happen-”

“Does being the oldest not mean anything anymore?!”

“You might as well step on me, hyung! You might as well kick me where it hurts the most- oh wait! You did!”

 You shook your head as maknae line plus Seokjin screamed at each other. Meanwhile, Hoseok was trying to keep the peace. Namjoon was the only one who kept on watching you, his mind going over an overdrive as to how to resolve this all while maintaining their leverage over you and keeping you happy.               

“Fine, we accept.”

They all turned to Namjoon, their eyes comically large at how easy their leader agreed. “We do?” Hoseok asked.

“Either that or lose her. Or die. So yes, we agree. In return, within those two hours of your undivided attention, you’ll cater to our every need.”

You blinked owlishly at what he said. And also, did he have to say that like that?!

“F-fine! But those ten hours will truly be mine, okay?”

“What will you even do within those ten hours, noona?” Jungkook asked innocently, his doe eyes brimming with curiosity.

“Shower, sleep, eat, meditate so as to not lose my mind-“

“But why can’t we do all those things together?” Jimin whined, swaying his body in emphasis of his desire to be included.

“Because! That’s private-“

“But we’re close!” Jungkook added, his eyes wide and earnest.

“Oh my God, you idiot,” you heard Seokjin murmured under his breath, disappointed and quite frankly, embarrassed by the youngest’s stubbornness.

“Two hours start when?” Hoseok finally asked something that could be answered logically.

“7 in the morning and ends at 9 in the evening.”

Thursday morning, Day 3

“Rise and shine, my one and only!”

Your room was gently engulfed by light as Kim Seokjin opened the door at exactly 7 in the morning. He was still wearing his blue pajamas and in his hands was a tray with what looked to be a delectable mug of coffee. You blinked your sleepiness away as he stepped in the room. He carefully placed the tray on your bedside table, before cupping your cheeks in between his hands and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Okay.

That woke you up.

His gesture was unexpected, and it most probably showed on your face from the way he chuckled as he booped your nose.

“Ah, you’re so beautiful even in the morning, little one!” He exclaimed before stepping back and flicking the curtains open further, letting even more sunlight stream into the room. How was this fair, you wondered. How could he look so perfect and put-together even when he was still in his sleepwear? You glanced at the mirror on the wall and was horrified to see how opposite you looked to the man who just declared that you were so beautiful in the morning.

If you didn’t believe in the effectivity of the potion before, then you definitely did now. Your hair was all over the place and you had sleep in your eyes.

And oh my God, was that a dried drool on the side of your lips?!

You immediately made yourself presentable the best you could before Seokjin sat on your bed, lifting his own mug to his lips…his very plump lips. He was unfazed by your awkward demeanor.

“I am so glad I have this schedule. Nothing beats spending the morning with you,” he murmured warmly, his eyes shining with sincerity and love(?) “I made breakfast, little one. Get ready and come down, okay?”

It was quarter to eight when you finally joined him in the patio where he set up the breakfast. He was already dressed for work like you, his hair now sleeked up. Also, how could a forehead look that good? Did that even make any sense?!

He turned to you and smiled. His eyes traced your form before standing. He gently tugged you in his arms, completely engulfing you within him. You could hear his heart and hoped that he couldn’t hear yours; it was definitely embarrassing how fast yours was beating in comparison to his. You weren’t really used to being physically close to anyone, let alone your CEOs that you never had personal interactions with before this.

“I didn’t put on at tie yet because I wanted us to match,” he easily shared in your ear before guiding you to your seat as though what he did was not meant to make your heart beat faster.

You looked at all the mouthwatering dishes he prepared and wondered just how long he had been awake for. “Where are the others?” you hadn’t seen nor heard any of them in the house and you wondered if they had already eaten.

Seokjin merely smiled at you before artfully cutting pieces of the croissant he made for you and putting them on your plate. “Little one, it’s my time. You’re mine.”

“For two hours…” you added, suddenly feeling ominous by the way he worded his schedule and his dark eyes despite the sweet and seemingly harmless smile he was sporting.

“Sure.”

After he dropped you off in your office wherein he held your hand all the way from the car until he delivered you to your office chair, he planted a kiss on the back of your hand despite your reluctance. You couldn’t help but noticed the grip he had on you, nor the way he looked around the office and glared at any men glancing your way.

And of course, everyone in the office saw.

At exactly 9:01 am, a bouquet of flower was sent to your office. The sender? None other than Jung Hoseok himself.

He was sure to be punctual, not wasting any second off his scheduled time. He thought that time was gold, and he wanted nothing more since he woke up to be with you.

Sufficed to say, Jung Hoseok craved you so bad.

Your eyes widened from the sunflowers to him as he flashed you his sunny smile as though he didn’t scare you the past days with his warnings. “For the most beautiful part of my day.”

You could hear the murmurs of your officemates, and you were already dreading the gossips that would surely come. You wondered how they would look at you once this was all over. For sure, you’d be the laughing stock of the ton.

You most probably have to resign…

“Darling?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Hoseok tilted his head as he leaned in you, his hand on your armrest. This close and you could smell him. And heavens. He smelled heavenly. He smelled clean and crisp, like the subtle touch of ocean breeze. This close and you could see how perfect his features were, how harmoniously proportionate they were. This close and you could see the darkness he always kept in bay.

“What are you thinking?”

“N-nothing-“

“Tell me,” he demanded gently, his eyes trained on your lips like no one was looking, like you and him were existing in your own world where no one could touch you and take you away from him.

Where no one could take you away from them.

“I-“

“Good morning! I have great, great news!”

Your friend breezed into the office, fashionably late as usual, her face lit up with excitement. The room buzzed with curious glances as she made her way to her desk, her eyes searching until they landed on yours. The grin she was sporting faltered off as the CEO turned to her with an expression she didn’t like before it all went away and Hoseok flashed her a smile.

“G-good morning, Daepyeonim Jung.”

“Good morning,” he answered cheerfully, fully straightening up and granting you the much-needed space to catch your breath. “What’s your good news?”

She looked at you, and only when you nodded did she whisper the news that her grandmother knew someone from the mountains that had the answer and solution. Her voice was hushed enough that your coworkers couldn’t hear her, yet clear enough to give you hope. Your grin was so wide as you stood up and hugged her.

It was only when you turned to Hoseok to share your happiness did you notice something unsettling. His expression had darkened briefly, a shadow passing over his features before he hastily composed himself with a bright smile.

What was that?

Before you could dwell on that, he declared it good news and pulled you out of the office.

You found yourself standing in the middle of his office as he plopped down on his chair, stack of paper on his table that grew in size from missing yesterday’s work. He seemed busy, yet he was looking expectedly at you. His eyes were serious as he gestured for you to come closer.

It was apparent he wasn’t happy with the distance when you decided to stop three feet away from him. His eyes remained impassive as he sighed and without any warning, pulled you to him. You landed on his surprisingly muscular lap, your hands automatically going to his shoulders in an effort to steady you.

Your eyes widened at his actions and any attempt to stand up was squashed by his ironlike grip around you.

“Didn’t you promise you’d cater to our every need when we agreed on that ridiculous two-hour schedule?”

“And having me on your lap is a need?!”

“It is. I want- no. I need you close,” and only when he confessed did you see the miniscule tremors in his hands. He was nuzzling his face on your neck, breathing in the scent he missed so much. Your soft skin against his touch somehow calmed the demons. If he was already like this despite you seeing him last night, then it meant that their symptoms were worsening like what your friend warned you of. The more time you spent with them and the more that your skins touched meant that their lovesickness would only worsen in time.

You were dreading to think what would happen to the remaining CEOs and how they would act, more so when Jimin and Namjoon were in the last two.

Namjoon's schedule sneakpeak Jungkook’s schedule sneakpeak, Part 3 sneakpeak, Part 3

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #14

It all started with a ghost. A very loud, very neon, very annoying ghost that thought it was a great idea to haunt Stark Tower. Danny Fenton—part-time student, full-time accidental hero, and perpetually exhausted teen—was just trying to track the damn thing through the Manhattan skyline when his portal malfunctioned (again), exploded in his face (again), and slingshotted him across the sky, straight through a window that turned out to be reinforced vibranium glass.

It should’ve stopped him. It didn’t.

Cue the alarms. Cue the dozens of defense drones locking onto his energy signature. Cue a 19-year-old Danny dangling upside down in the penthouse, surrounded by billion-dollar murder bots, trying to explain to a very confused AI that he was not, in fact, an alien invader.

But before FRIDAY could blast him into oblivion, a small voice piped up from behind a couch. “Are you a fairy?”

Danny blinked. Dangling upside down. Singed suit. Ectoplasm dripping from his hair. “Uh. Sure.”

The voice belonged to a tiny, curly-haired gremlin wearing a tutu, light-up sneakers, and what looked like Tony Stark’s old Iron Man helmet—three sizes too big and twice as chaotic. This was Morgan Stark. Age: five. Chaos level: eldritch god. She approached him like a cat approaches a new toy: equal parts curiosity and threat assessment.

“Can you do sparkles?” she asked.

Danny shot a tiny beam of ecto-energy at the ceiling light, which exploded into fireworks.

Morgan gasped. “OH MY GOD, YOU ARE A FAIRY.”

And that was how Danny Fenton became Morgan Stark’s official babysitter.

It wasn’t like he volunteered. Or got paid. Or even agreed. Tony Stark had been out of the country—something about a diplomatic mess in Wakanda and a golf game with T’Challa. Pepper had begged Steve Rogers to watch Morgan, but Steve’s idea of babysitting was forcing a child to recite the Constitution. So Pepper, desperate and very, very sleep-deprived, walked into her penthouse to find a teenage boy hovering in midair while her daughter screamed “FAIRY GODBRO” at him and decided, “Yeah. Sure. This’ll do.”

“Can you keep her alive?” Pepper asked, not even blinking at the glowing green eyes.

Danny shrugged. “Uh. I guess?”

“You get dental.”

Danny had no idea what that meant but was too scared to argue.

By Day Three, he was in hell. Not the Ghost Zone. Not some apocalyptic alternate timeline. Actual hell. Or what felt like it. Morgan had no concept of mortality. She once duct-taped kitchen knives to her arms and yelled “I’M WOLVERINE NOW.” Another time, she tried to feed their Roomba peanut butter and sobbed when it wouldn’t eat.

Danny tried to keep up. He really did.

Unfortunately, he was also being hunted by an interdimensional ghost warlord named Balthazar the Undying who decided Stark Tower was a great place to stage his declaration of conquest. So in between coloring pages and singing “Let It Go” for the 57th time (because Morgan said if he didn’t, she’d tell everyone he “pees ectoplasm”), Danny was banishing ancient horrors to the Shadow Realm.

“Why does the air taste like sadness?” Morgan asked one morning, sipping chocolate milk while a spectral hand clawed its way out of the floor behind her.

Danny shot it with a laser without looking. “That’s just the trauma, kid.”

She nodded like that made sense.

By Day Five, things got weirder.

Bruce Banner came over to “assess the babysitter.” What he found was a 19-year-old ghost hybrid making chicken nuggets with one hand while performing an exorcism on a sentient blender with the other. Bruce blinked. “You’re multitasking.”

Danny, dead-eyed and covered in slime: “You’re not my real dad.”

Bruce left after Morgan bit him.

Then Peter Parker dropped by. He took one look at Danny—haggard, twitching, wearing a tiara—and whispered, “Oh my god, he is a hot mess.”

“Shut up,” Danny snapped, using his foot to hold down a haunted Roomba. “Help me tie up the possessed dolls.”

Peter did not help. He just filmed everything for TikTok. The video went viral under the title “Me when I leave a random ghost fairy babysitter with Tony Stark’s child and come back to find him summoning the underworld during snack time.”

Nick Fury saw the video and sent a S.W.O.R.D. strike team to investigate.

Morgan beat them with a plastic lightsaber.

On Day Seven, Danny woke up to find Morgan riding a flying toaster around the living room like it was a dragon.

“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?”

“I summoned it,” she said proudly.

“HOW.”

“I made a deal with your ghost friends.”

Danny’s left eye twitched so hard he saw the Ghost Zone.

Pepper walked in on him mid-breakdown. “You’ve been great with her,” she said, sipping her coffee. “We haven’t seen her this happy since… well, ever.”

Danny, clinging to the ceiling like a feral raccoon, wheezed, “I think she opened a portal to the Necroplane. There’s a demon named Craig living in the fridge.”

Pepper patted his arm. “All babysitters say that.”

Craig opened the fridge and waved. “Sup.”

By Week Two, Danny had stopped pretending to be normal. He phased through walls, levitated toys, vaporized anything that smelled like danger, and occasionally screamed “I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE HAVING A MID-LIFE CRISIS” into the void.

Tony finally came home. He blinked at the scene: Danny napping upside down like a bat while Morgan built a nuclear reactor out of old toaster parts and a Roomba named Kevin.

“Who the hell is that?” Tony asked.

Morgan didn’t even look up. “My fairy godbrother. He banished an evil frog ghost and helped me build an orbital laser.”

Tony stared. “Huh. Alright.”

And just like that, Danny Fenton became part of the Avengers.

He didn’t sign anything. He didn’t train. He didn’t even get a uniform. But every time something exploded or a portal opened or some ancient deity said “BEHOLD MY TRUE FORM,” Danny just floated into the air, cracked his back like an old man, and said, “Not in front of the child, you drama bitch.”

Morgan, from her juice box throne: “YEET HIM INTO THE VOID, DANNY.”

And he did.

It only got worse when the other Avengers got involved.

Natasha tried to teach Morgan how to do spy stuff. Morgan used the techniques to sneak into Tony’s wine cellar and replace the labels with glitter glue and threats.

Thor visited once. Morgan asked if she could ride his hammer. He said no. She cried. The hammer floated toward her on its own. Danny had to wrestle it away.

Clint brought over a bow and arrow set. Morgan hit Peter in the ass with a suction cup dart. Danny laughed so hard he choked on ectoplasm.

Wanda stared at Danny for a full ten minutes before whispering, “You’re not from this plane.”

Danny, deadpan: “Neither is your eyeliner.”

They became friends.

One night, Danny woke up to find Morgan drawing summoning circles on the walls in glitter glue.

“Whatcha doing, champ?”

“Trying to summon a unicorn for Auntie Yelena.”

Danny blinked. “Go back to bed.”

She glared. “You don’t support women in STEM.”

By Month One, SHIELD had officially labeled Danny as a “Class 7 Unexplainable Being with Babysitting Potential.” He had a badge. He had clearance. He had no idea what was happening anymore.

All he knew was that if Morgan Stark said “Danny, I wanna adopt a ghost puppy,” then by God, he was going to march into the Ghost Zone and wrestle a spectral hellhound into a leash.

And he did.

Its name is Toast.

Danny Fenton—ghost boy, half-dead teenager, babysitter of the year—accidentally became the most powerful figure in the universe. Not because of his powers. Not because of his knowledge. Not even because of his tragic backstory.

But because Morgan Stark liked him. And if you hurt Morgan Stark, you would be introduced to Craig, the fridge demon, and Kevin, the haunted Roomba, and Toast, the ghost puppy, and then, finally, the very angry, very tired, very over-it Danny Phantom who could—and would—yeet you into another dimension for interrupting nap time.

The Avengers knew better than to interfere.

Even Thanos came back to life once, took one look at Danny and Morgan, and said, “No thanks.”

He snapped himself back out of existence.

Danny didn’t even flinch.

Morgan dabbed.

And somewhere, in the vast multiverse of chaos and consequence, Tony Stark looked at his daughter, his haunted apartment, his glowing ghost babysitter eating fruit snacks while levitating a possessed microwave, and muttered to himself—

“Yeah. That tracks.”

[animeyanderelover]

Uhm this is my second request. Can I request a yandere satoru, suguru, sukuna, choso, toji and yuta x a female sorcerer eho is equal on their power strength. Thats all thank you.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive relationship, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, paranoia, manipulation

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

S/o is equally as strong as them

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾Ah yes, the babysitter. In some aspects Sukuna must say that you are doing a great job amusing him. Though it is obvious that you don’t share that pleasure. If you had the choice, you wouldn’t even be here right now as you have quit this profession a few years ago for reasons you have disclosed for everyone. It’s only due to a lot of pressure from the higher-ups and Gojo’s persistent nature that you reluctantly agree to assist in keeping an eye on Yuji and the curse sealed within him. Rumors swarm around everywhere, that you’re supposed to be on equal footing with Gojo and Sukuna, one of the strongest of today. Sukuna doesn’t believe that. Yes, he wants you to be strong so that he can enjoy the unavoidable fight to his fullest but he’s confident that at the end of the day he will still claim victory whilst standing over your bloody corpse. Still, he must admit that he enjoys the alive you quite a lot as well. It’s quite amusing to observe just how different you are to Gojo. Quiet, polite yet still bold enough to lecture him for his evil deeds. He finds it rather endearing, a malicious grin on his face as you talk to him as if you believe that he possesses a heart.

🗾It’s that pathetic display of empathy that has influenced his perception, a mistake during the Shibuya incident. As Gojo is sealed and Sukuna awakes, he challenges and kills Jogo and as Mahoraga attacks him, he feels truly alive. In that moment he forgets about you only for you to jump in and join the fight, trying to minimise the incomprehensible damage. During that fight Sukuna witnesses for the first time a different side to you, foolish kind you. An unwavering determination, a strength as deep and suffocating as the ocean. He’s taken as he watches you, fights against you and with you, even protects you against some of Mahoraga’s attacks. As euphoria and infatuated adrenaline pump through his veins, he finds himself wishing to continue this fight yet he knows that as of now he still isn’t strong enough. No, you deserve to be defeated as soon as he has achieved his strongest form once more. However, as he retreats into Yuji’s mind once more, taking in your bloody yet still standing form, he can’t help but have a change of heart. After all who would be more worthy of the strongest man than you, the strongest woman?

Fushiguro Toji

🪱The moment both you lock eyes in the little bar, you know that there is something about the other that’s different, powerful. Others might shudder in the face of such strength yet both of you are rather fascinated with the other. To Toji it truly doesn’t matter that you are a sorcerer and to you it doesn’t seem to matter that he kills even those who belong to your kind. He’s in for the money and you’re in because you’re bored, a constellation that works just fine for the both of you. Neither one of you meddles with the other’s business, neither one of you has serious feelings. At least until Toji breaks that agreement. The moment he becomes aware of his own possessiveness, he immediately seeks to stake his claim over you. Only that you despise having your freedom threatened like this. There’s no hesitation from either side as a fight breaks out as you have no serious attachment to Toji and he is at the stage where he only cares about possessing you and nothing more. Night and day eventually blur together as both of you lose track of time, clashing, attacking and hurting each other until both of you have reached for the first time in your lives your limit.

🪱Never before has Toji met someone who was able to keep up with him mentally as well as physically, only fueling his fixation on you. There’s no denying that he is fundamentally broken and unable to ever be fixed so you seem to be the best match as Toji needs someone who doesn’t falter nor break easily. A game of the greedy wolf and the sly cat starts from that day on as Toji actively hunts you down all whilst you skillfully escape him, tease him. For you this is a game, a sparking thrill that is just needed in your mundane life. For Toji it is initially too though he has the concrete goal to possess you by the end of it. As genuine feelings of infatuation strike his heart unexpectedly, he finds himself rethinking everything he thought to believe about the situation both him and you are in. He doesn’t desire just the simple thrill anymore. No, he desires something deeper, as ridiculous as that may sound coming from his lips. Now he just needs to convince you even though you are not the type to commit. However, Toji knows that you love playing with fire, are even willing to fuel it until you too get burned. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Something new and exciting?

Gojo Satoru

🩵When Gojo initially receives the news that a sorcerer from abroad is about to be transferred to Tokyo because it is believed that she is on his level, he doubts that statement. Not necessarily because he is overly arrogant but because from the very first breath he took, people were after his life all out of fear that he would grow up and master his abilities. Gojo has gone through a lot to achieve his powers, is confident in his position as the strongest sorcerer which is why he wonders just what kind of skills you must possess for others to even speculate that you might just be as powerful as he is. Yet when you arrive in his city, he doesn’t confront you about it. After all he knows that the higher-ups are hoping to figure out who between the two of you is more powerful and he won’t give them that pleasure. Instead he does everything to not even have you talk about any sorcerer-related stuff. No, he focuses on giving you a tour through the school, helps you with your train tickets and your bank account and is more than just eager to introduce you to his cuisine. Both of you spend a ton of time together and somehow both of you just connect immediately. Your experiences align.

🩵Gojo always used to be lonely. Perhaps that is just the way it is, standing at the top as the strongest. But now that has changed. Now you are also there, relating, struggling and supporting. You are able to share your insecurities with him and he is able to do the same. You appreciate Gojo for that and he appreciates you too. However, you underestimate just how severely attached Satoru grows to be. He grows insanely protective though not as much in a physical sense but in an emotional one. You’ve revealed your heart, so scarred and fragile from the weight of expectations and the sacrifices that were made for you to be who you are. There’s enough suffering you have gone through. No more now that he’s here. Relax instead, allow yourself to be protected by him instead of always neglecting your own wellbeing for the sake of others. His delusions get the better of him and that quickly. He’s made for you, you’re made for him. After all only the one labeled the strongest could understand the loss and loneliness that comes with such a title. And Satoru will do everything in his power to have you see this the same way as he does.

Geto Suguru

🗻Shunned, isolated, feared. Your past is the summary of why Suguru believes that non-sorcerers have to be murdered. After all it is unfair that someone as gifted and beautiful as you had to suffer so much only because you were special. Hearing about your tragic life, Geto immediately holds his hand out to you and offers you to join his plans. Only for you to reject that offer without a moment of hesitation. Not because you are tied to any duty but instead because you believe him of all people to commit acts of great injustice. Non-sorcerers do not deserve the fate he plans to bestow upon them. It is this mindset of yours that you possess despite the humiliation and pain you went through because of them that rattles Suguru’s mind more than anything. The idea that you, a woman with such shining talents and skills, see any worth in monkeys aggravates something deep within his heart. No words could express the disbelief and shock as you turn your back on him, spit on his kindness and discard him for the very people who treated you like a wild animal. He believes it to be a weakness in the beginning as he doesn’t let loose, convinced that you will be a great ally for his goal.

🗻Despite your firm decision to not join him, you still look after the two girls, treating them with kindness as you sympathise with their past. That only agitates Suguru more, the fact that you feel for them yet refuse to destroy the very root of their and your suffering. A walking, talking contradiction who only threatens to drive him mad. Something that indeed becomes true as dark feelings start to develop. Suguru refuses to accept that you truly are on the side of the monkeys and not on his side, the right side. It’s that denial that gives way for his excuses to bloom into delusions as he would accept anything but the blunt truth that you believe monkeys to be worth leaving alive. Instead he conjures up other explanations. A lack of love you felt as a child which has made you desperate for the monkey’s approval. Repressed trauma that holds you back from unleashing your full potential and your freedom. Brainwashing that you were put through as a child and that still has a hold on you today. Those excuses allow him to discredit your truth, allow him to believe that you are in need of his help. And he will give it to you even though you may not believe that you need it.

Kamo Choso

🩸Whenever Choso is within your vicinity, he is a mess. Rising body temperature, heart palpatations, sweaty palms and a flushed face. If he wouldn't know any better, he would believe himself to be sick. That, however, is impossible as he is a cursed womb. That and the fact that the sole trigger for those symptoms is always you. No, there has to be another explanation yet it takes Choso half an eternity until he has finally realised what he is feeling. Still, even though he now knows what he is feeling, he still doesn't know how to continue from here on out. It's only made so much worse because you are actually a senior of his younger brother who takes on the role of a mentor after so many other sorcerer lost their lives in Shibuya. You're skilled and confident, carry yourself with so much ease wherease Choso's brain short-circuits as soon as you talk to him. It is embarrassing that technically he is so much older than you yet has only recently experienced life due to being offered a vessel as a body. He should win you over, do something to show you how much he loves you yet he lacks the social etiquette to do so. There is only one way Choso knows how to show his care and that is by protecting his loved ones.

🩸​Yet you are breaking his heart as you make it apparent that you have no urgent need to rely on him as your protector. For Choso you are almost too independent, able to fight for yourself and protect yourself without his help. His entire existence is connected to the very concept of being the strong one who his loved ones can rely on but with you that purpose is mercilessly shattered and worst of all is that you are unaware of his inner turmoil and fear. Over and over again he witnesses how you risk your life by fighting against others which either ends with him jumping in to help you as his paranoia doesn't allow him to stay still or with him having an existential crisis when you manage to defeat them yourself, robbing him of his role. It feels wrong, so terribly wrong as all you want him to do is stay back and look after his own back. Almost as if trying to compensate for the lack of protection that Choso can do on the battlefield, he starts weasling his way into other aspects of your life and tries to help you there even if he has no idea what he is even supposed to do. Honestly, at times he is more of a hindrance than of help but don't tell him that. He's already inconsolable enough.

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​Yuta and you make acquaintance after disaster struck Shibuya and every person involved in that assault, non-sorcerers and sorcerers alike. When it is initially believed that Yuta is coming after Yuji you vow to protect your kohei from the student Gojo so confidently believed in. After all who else is there right now who could stop him and his curse Rika? You're unaware of Yuta's true intentions so the first meeting between the two of you quickly escalates into a fight all on your account. It certainly is a way to leave a first impression as Rika and Yuta clash with you who is able to fend them off. You're fully prepared for a long fight but Yuta luckily manages to gain your attention and signal his true intentions. Immediately he expresses admiration though for your loyalty, will to protect Yuji who is at heart innocent as well as for your impressive strength he was not aware of. It's surprising that he hasn't heard of you before. As soon as you know that Yuta is on your side, you partner up with him which makes for a very lethal combination as both of you are bright young talents with immense amounts of strength and skills. It's difficult though, with Gojo gone and Sukuna slowly returning.

💍​Perhaps that is why both of you bond much faster than under normal circumstances as both of you fight many battles together. You do not fear Rika like many others do and by extension you are less wary of Yuta himself and considering his past, that means quite a lot to him. Initially it seems to be a gradual change until there is this one sudden switch that happens in the heat of a battle where all of the weight of his premature obsession all of the sudden comes crashing down on him. Yuta panics, Rika senses it and a bloodbath follows that even manages to mortify you slightly. From that day on everything changes. Yuta is much more anxious to leave you alone on a battlefield, prefers to cling to you and block any attack that comes your way which serves as an insult to you. After all he should know best what you are capable of. Rika doesn't appreciate your tone yet you don't back down either, the atmosphere sometimes awfully hostile yet Yuta always manages to stop it. Deep down he is ashamed as he knows that you of all people he shouldn't doubt but all of that is irrelevant in the face of the earthquake that is his obsession, rattling his very rationality into shambles.

[hvlcy0n]

being in a relationship with chika takiishi would be interesting, because in my brain, he doesn't see it as an equal-footing relationship but more as an opportunity to possess you. all that matters in his mind is that you're his. he never really considered being yours, but truthfully, he is, since you're one of the only two people in existence that intrigues him and he would give the time of day to. now, that's not to say he treats you horribly. in fact, he treats you better than anyone else--although, that's not particularly difficult to do, considering how he treats everyone else like a chewed wad of bubblegum stuck to the sole of his shoe.

you're the only person who can get away with touching him without being pummeled into the ground or receiving a cruel backhand to the cheek. he doesn't flinch when you reach to hold his hand or glide your fingers through his fiery ombre. endo almost pities you when he first sees you wrap your arms around chika's waist or throw your arms over his shoulders, fully expecting for you to be shoved to the ground or have your arm twisted behind your back until your shoulder pops out of its socket. but, he's rightfully stunned when chika remains still and lets you cuddle up to him, the only acknowledgement of your presence being a mere glance at you or a hand briefly placed on whatever part of your body he can reach first.

he knows how much chika loathes being restrained, so how you're not only still upright but now pressing your cheek against the wiry muscle of his shoulder, endo doesn't know. but i'll tell you one thing. baby, when chika says let go, you LET GO😭 he may not strike you, but if you don't listen the first time, he'll resort to physically prying you off him or shaking you off so that he can do whatever it is that he wanted to do.

to touch on the possession thing i first mentioned, he'll do whatever he pleases with you. it isn't often that the desire for sexual gratification or even just physical affection strikes, but whenever it does, he doesn't think twice about indulging. if he wants you cage you against a filthy alley wall and kiss you stupid, he will. if he wants you to sit in his lap instead of standing behind him or sitting next to him, he'll beckon you over with a jerk of his chin. if you're moving too slowly for his taste and he doesn't feel like listening to you whine when he abandons you, so he has the idea to yank you up and toss you over his shoulder, he will. he'll be silent unless you ask questions, and even then, he might stay quiet, depending on whether or not he feels they're worth answering. don't think of trying to get down, either.

if he wants to do or say something, he'll do it. because who's gonna stop him? who's gonna whoop his ass? who's gonna be bold enough to see chika with his hand on you and think that trying to approach or kidnap you would bode well for them? exactly.

he's still not super talkative, but you're more likely to get a response or be approached of his own volition than the wide majority of people, so that counts for something, i suppose. he just kind of exists in your vicinity--or rather, you in his. if you were to tell endo that a day would arrive where someone is genuinely comfortable and unguarded when in chika's presence, he would've thought you were full of shit. but, here you are.

he doesn't get jealous, per se, but he does get possessive. you are his, and the wide majority of people are aware. however, that doesn't mean that you don't have the occasional guy who've either never heard of chika or don't know that you two are together.

chika has never been one to meddle in other people's affairs, often passing by conflicts or shady behavior without even batting an eye. and at first, when he hears the usual spiel of some guy trying to chat up some girl around the corner, he ignores it, uncaring. but, just as he's about to tune out the background noise, the man says something that piques his interest.

"that's a pretty necklace ya got there. what's it say? chika? lemme see."

"don't fucking touch me! that's my boyfriend's name!"

chika's footsteps pause, his attention drifting in the direction of the sound. it's you. that's all he needs to know before he's rerouting himself and making his way toward the source. his blank expression doesn't waver even as he rounds the corner and comes face to face with a broad, muscular back clad in a faux leather jacket. whatever guy is speaking to you hasn't noticed him, preoccupied with towering over you and trying to weasel his way into pawing at the sparkling pendant resting on your chest. you're shuffling backward, forehead creased apprehensively and hands drawn up to your chest protectively.

"hey."

it's only one word, yet it shatters the atmosphere like a whip crack, splitting apart your harasser's control at the seams. chika can see the goosebumps that prickle over the back of his neck as he whirls around to face him.

"the fuck do you want?" the stranger, still attempting to save face and scrape together his dignity despite having been rattled by chika's aura, brazenly steps up to him. "can't you see we're talkin' here?"

but, chika isn't even looking at him, his attention focused just past his shoulder at where you're standing. at the sight of your boyfriend, your eyes gleam with relief, and your muscles visibly relax. "chika!" you beam.

"ah, so you're chika." your harasser muses. "stupid move, lettin' your bitch wander off on--"

chika breezes forward without bothering to let him finish. in the process, his shoulder collides with the man's, knocking him off balance and leaving him teetering haphazardly on one foot before he quickly steadies himself.

"hey!"

his objection falls on deaf ears as chika clutches your wrist and tugs you toward him, his grip so tight that it's nearly bruising. you stumble, narrowly avoiding bumping into him.

"i'm fine--" your reassurance is cut off when chika abruptly seizes your face, fingers dimpling the skin of your cheeks and consequently puckering your lips as he angles your face this way and that. his eyes roam your face, dark with that same unreadable shadow you've grown accustomed to seeing. you whine in protest, hands lifting to rest on his forearm, but you don't push him off.

the strange man reaches for chika, eyes alight with flame. "what the hell do you--"

you don't even have time to process chika's arm being ripped away from you before there's a sickening, dull crack and a spatter of blood sailing through the air. all you can do is stand there in shock while your harasser slumps to the concrete in a pitiful heap, eyes fluttering as his consciousness slips and scarlet pouring from his smashed nose. chika casually lowers his hand back to his side as if nothing were amiss. he spares his handiwork a single glance before calmly stepping over it and heading back in the direction he came.

"let's go."

you don't hesitate to follow.

[stellamarielu]

hi! I’d like to request Declan x younger reader and they are at a party at his house and he hears someone (maybe even Patrick??) flirting with her so he whisks her away to go dance so he’s the only man who can touch her

like father, like son

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: declan overhears his son flirting with you and he can’t help but get a little possessive

content: 18+, cursing, sexual themes, alludes to smut but no actual smut, jealous declan!!!

author’s note: hey so i went a little rogue on this request my bad. patrick is such a cutie i had to🤭 also why am i incapable of just writing a little blurb lmao. i always end up a with a whole ass oneshot

—

it was the annual o'hara new years eve party that doubled as patrick's birthday celebration and you were pushing your way through the overly crowded foyer of the priory.

that's when patrick saw you, he was convinced he had never seen someone so captivating. he immediately leaned over to his younger sister.

"who the hell is that?" he was yelling over the music.

"oh that's daddy's new assistant!" taggie answered with a bright smile as she watched people dancing in the room ahead of her.

patrick's jaw nearly dropped in shock.

he recalled his father mentioning a new employee being hired to help with all of the prep work for his show, but he just figured it was some dorky, young 20-something desperate to get their foot in the door of the investigative journalism world.

never in a million years had he pictured it to be an intoxicatingly gorgeous young woman.

as soon as he's processed this newfound revelation, patrick's feet are moving in pursuit of his father.

declan was across the room laughing with freddie jones when his son found him.

"there he is. the birthday boy!" wearing a proud smile declan was clapping patrick on the shoulder.

judging by the overbearing greeting, patrick could only guess his father was on his second- maybe third drink of the evening.

"yeah i was hoping for just a minute with you really quick." patrick reached for his dad's shoulder, returning the greeting.

with a quick "happy birthday" to patrick and a friendly gesture to declan, freddie saw himself off to the dance floor.

"you didn't tell me your assistant was hot."

the words are rolling off patrick's tongue the second he's alone with his dad.

"i'm sorry? didn't realize i had to disclose that to you."

declan was laughing– genuinely chuckling, at his son's implied accusation as he took another sip of his drink.

"I mean jesus dad, she's insanely hot. she can't be that much older than me, tell me i've got a chance?"

patrick is speaking to declan but his eyes are scanning the room, hoping to catch another glimpse of you.

declan all but chokes on his drink.

there was no way on earth he would set you up with his son.

obviously it would be innapropriate and unprofessional. you dating his son could only lead to an eventual messy breakup which would just make things awkward at the office.

oh and there was also one other tiny little thing that kept him from wanting to pair the two of you together,

declan had been fucking you for the past three weeks.

the relationship between you and declan may have been a confidential matter, but he was very much enthralled with you. what started as a quick release ended with him begging you for exclusivity. of course you agreed to secretly date the man because you were equally as smitten with him.

so hearing patrick talk so openly about wanting to 'get with you', had him tensing up. declan didn't share and especially not with his son.

"you know I think she may actually have a lad back home now that I think about it." declan is lying through his teeth as he smiles at his son.

"guess i'll go find out."

patrick is patting his dad on the back and throwing him a cheeky wink as his eyes finally find you in the crowd. you’re walking into the kitchen and he’s now trailing off in the same direction.

you had barely entered the room, quiet and hidden away from the rest of the home, when you heard footsteps behind you.

when you turn toward the noise you’re met with a handsome young man with dark curly hair and a gorgeous smile. who was this guy and how on earth had you never noticed him in rutshire before?

"I don't believe we've met." he's extending his hand to you and you find his voice just as charming as his smile.

"no we haven't." your giggling at how upfront the kid is as you shake his hand and give him your name.

"such a lovely name." he's complimenting you, keeping your hand in his. he’s fixated on how delicate your touch is.

"and you are..." you initiate his introduction while he's busy staring at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes.

"oh god, yeah. uh- patrick." he finally gives you his name at the end of a chuckle.

everything about him is just so endearing. normally guys around your age are repulsive and pretentious but this guy seems so genuine. his eyes are kind and his smile is so adorable and- oh my god. patrick. as in patrick o'hara. the birthday boy. declan's son.

"shit you're declan's son." your outburst has patrick’s eyes wide with amusement.

"oh, it's so nice to finally meet you, he's told me so much about you.”

you're recovering from your embarrassing outburst of realization, laughing at yourself and smiling at the young man in front of you.

you can see the resemblance now; the curly hair, the gentle eyes, the dreamy smile. it was all so declan.

“all good things i hope.” his sweet smile was now somewhat sultry.

“well of course. you’re his pride and joy you know?” your voice was playful. patrick was obsessed.

“please tell me how you ended up working for my father. i can’t imagine how someone as stunning as you is being sent on silly errands and making copies all day.”

if he weren’t so damn cute you would’ve been a little offended by patrick’s comment, but he was only trying to compliment you. his charming demeanor proved to be the motivation behind his words.

“i do a lot more than run errands and make copies.” you say to him with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on your lips.

his smile suddenly drops and you can see him beginning to regret his previous statement.

“sorry that made me sound like such a dick.” his words were rushed and you could tell he felt truly apologetic.

“it’s okay, really. i’m just flattered you called me stunning.”

you were grinning at him, hoping to reassure patrick that he didn’t need to apologize.

“you are stunning. breathtaking actually.”

he’s taking a step toward you and your body instantly freezes.

“i noticed you the minute you walked in. couldn’t take my eyes off you.” his tone is enticing- almost sensual, but his facial expression is still so warm and kind.

you’re both locked in on one another when you hear someone clear their throat in the doorway. you take a step back from patrick, a little too quickly.

declan comes waltzing into the kitchen, an empty glass in his hand.

“well if it isn’t my favorite assistant and my favorite son.” he’s smiling to himself as he strides across the room, barely paying the two of you any attention.

“sorry to interrupt.”

he doesn’t sound very apologetic as he opens the cupboard and retrieves a half empty bottle of expensive looking liquor.

“caitlin’s out there looking for you, i told her i’d hunt you down.” he’s eyeing patrick as he pours himself another glass of whiskey.

“okay uh yeah.” patrick is fumbling over his words as he looks between you and his dad.

“i’ll find you later yeah?” he’s giving you a hopeful gaze as he gently touches your forearm.

“sounds good.” you reply giving him one last smile as he turns to leave.

declan waits until his son is long gone before he speaks.

“looks like patrick’s got the hots for ya.” he’s stalking toward you with a devilish grin on his face.

“must run in the family.” he’s chuckling darkly at his own joke as he stands just inches away from you.

“very funny.” your voice is dripping with sarcasm.

your remark has declan bringing his hands to your hips, pulling you into his broad chest.

“i’m not surprised though. i think every man in this town would flirt with you if given the chance.”

with his hands still on your hips you can feel him swaying to whatever song was coming from the next room over.

you reach up, slinging your arms around his neck. the two of you dancing sweetly to the slow beat of the music.

“he’s a good kid.” your head is resting on declan and you can feel his words like a hum on his chest.

“maybe you’d be better off with him.” declan’s words are quiet as they leave his mouth.

you pull away from his chest but keep your arms in their place on his shoulders. leaning back just enough to look at him in the eyes, you give him a stern stare.

“shut up declan.”

“i’m serious. he’s nice and gentle. would probably be good for you to be with someone like that.” he was looking off in the distance as he talked, your bodies still swaying side to side.

“maybe i don’t want gentle.” the words trickle from your lips like honey.

the second he hears the purr of your voice declan’s eyes are on yours. he’s peering down at you and the look on your face is pure sugar. god he can’t get enough of you.

“maybe i want someone older, someone more mature.”

your looking up at him as you talk, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. he can’t help the weight that lifts from his shoulders and the smile that takes over his face.

“maybe i want someone who’s not afraid to be rough with me.”

at those words declan feels something stirring in his chest– or maybe his pants.

you can feel his grip on your hips tighten as his eyes stay trained on yours. his gaze is spellbinding.

“i don’t think your son could fuck me the way i like to be fucked.”

you see declan’s eyes darken when he hears your whisper.

he lifts one of his hands from your hips in order to move your hair, bringing it all to one shoulder, leaving the other one fully exposed. he leans down and places a soft kiss right at the base of your neck, dangerously close to your collar bone.

your tilting your head in pleasure and soaking in the warmth of his lips on your skin when you feel him gently bite down in the same spot.

the stinging sensation of his teeth on your neck has you instinctively clenching your thighs together.

“i’m the only one who can fuck you the way you like to be fucked sweetheart.”

his voice is deep and rich as you feel his breath on your neck.

you’re just about to beg declan to take you into one of the many bedrooms in his house and ruin you; but he abruptly pulls away from you, detaching your bodies.

“let’s go celebrate the birthday boy shall we.”

his voice is normal, like he wasn’t about to take you on his kitchen counter two seconds ago.

“i have a feeling he might be waiting for a dance with you.” declan is smirking and holding his hand out to escort you back into the party.

you left the kitchen with one thought in your brain, declan was the only o’hara man for you.

my masterlist

[weebsinstash]

Omg more Viktor and Jayce pls that was so good

I keep gravitating back towards the scene where they have their first huge disagreement, the whole "I'M from the Undercity" conversation, and I still feel like a disabled Reader who is from the Undercity is one of my favorite routes to go to pair Viktor up with

I keep feeling drawn to scenarios where Reader meets Viktor but not Jayce and you inadvertently, unintentionally, cause a big rift between the two of them because Jayce says or does something fucked up to you that stabs Viktor in the back in the same way as that conversation

Like could you even imagine if Viktor is already forming feelings for you and here's Jayce, talking about how he doesn't trust you, you aren't like the two of them, you're too anxious and twitchy like you're planning something, how Viktor needs to stop letting you hang around. Just envision in your mind Jayce just REALLY REALLY being riled up and saying something like, "I'm tired of having to worry about them stealing something while they're constantly just limping around--" and here's Viktor immediately coming to not just your defense but his own, "'Limping around'?LIMPING AROUND? Is that really what I heard tou say just now?!" like he's absolutely furious, because uh, what the FUCK is that supposed to mean, Jayce?

Jayce getting jealous when Viktor sidelines a project they're working on together because he wants to help you with a brace or he's inventing some sort of mobility aid for you, and Jayce being absolutely convinced you're taking advantage of Viktor and will stab him in the back. Jayce being jealous and feeling replaced when Viktor is constantly spending time with you to troubleshoot the aids he's built for you. Jayce really itching to work on this project but he can't find Viktor anywhere and he's running all over town and he catches you two... having lunch together. He's jealous. He's angry. He's feelin' a lil possessive for sure.

But also like. Reader feeling... insecure when Viktor heals his leg. I was just reading that this man is 5'10??? So you go from seeing him using his cane, kind of slouching at times, to having him stand at his full height before you, completely healed? It has you feeling... small in more ways than one to see that he's just... gotten better while YOU haven't, or maybe never will. Absolutely 100% you're happy for him but... you just wish you weren't dragging him down more than ever before now that you and him... are on even less equal footing than before

But then I also think of how Viktor's journey slowly corrupts him, or distorts his thoughts, and how a yandere obsession could... pile on top of that

He's healed his leg, he's feeling the rush and the high of running and having a fully functional body for the first time in his life. His chronic pain is gone. He keeps his cane but he's no longer REQUIRED to use it. He's high on life itself, like the entire world has opened up to him all over again. There are so many possibilities now. He feels like he can do anything he can put his mind to. And, of course, YOU are one of the first things he can think about. Now he can do so much more to help you! Protect you! Eliminate any dangers to you!

I couldn't decide if Viktor would want to heal the Reader's leg much like his own or if he would just keep you as you are. I mean, like if he could choose, make a distinction between helping that one singular part of yourself versus what he was doing to people like Salo. Maybe, through some sort of means, you were also touched by the Arcane, and you're able to keep your sanity while it heals your fragile body

(Mmm.... yandere Viktor who can remember you across timelines or gets glimpses of other realities... I love me a good timeline/multiverse "I'll keep going through this loop as many times as it takes to save you" oh wait shit you know what just happened, unlocked a new love for Ekko, we're gonna come back for him later)

Reader meeting Old Viktor or meeting him much in the same way young Jayce did because Viktor still loves you across timelines and he wants to keep every possible vestige of you safe, maybe with you even meeting a version of him who only learned the error of his ways after you had died. Old Viktor giving you something for protection from your current Viktor, maybe even giving you the rune or key to keeping your sanity to be safely healed by the arcane. It being Reader's destiny that meet Viktor and you both change each other's lives. But. Also. Old Viktor giving you something that actually helps young Viktor capture you or something though, too 👀 old Viktor needing to keep the loop going and being the first step on your long journey of becoming the apple of his own eye.

The absolute timeline fuckery potential of the catalyst to you meeting Viktor, being fucking Viktor. Old Viktor gives you some trinket and when you meet "your" version for the first time, the trinket is the first thing he notices, or something like, you drop The Thingy and it's while you're chasing that thing as it rolls or bounces or whatever, that's what causes you to collide with Viktor and meet him for the first time

Ngl.... the slightly mentally broken version of Jayce that's all scruffy and lugs that hammer around is kinda the only version of him I find like, HOT hot, and god 🥴 he has, juicier plot potential than the earlier versions of Jayce as well

To just spit it out, Viktor going through his whole Glorious Evolution and having his takeover but, deciding to keep Jayce and yourself as you are. Mentally broken newly born gods can have their beloved humans for forced companions/pets, as a treat. You and Jayce growing closer in your captivity. Jayce with everything he's lost developing new unhealthy attachments to one of the only things he has left: you. Viktor who may or may not be varying levels of indifferent or outright approving if Jayce were to be physically affectionate with you, developing to outright intimacy.

Who knows, maybe Jayce is sent through some Inception-style Homura-level timeline fuckery where he either learns the importance to the timeline and fate of the world that you're kept safe (which he might take to extreme degrees in effort of trying to do good) or he may just be driven mad with grief seeing so many outcomes where you die, and it's through these branching choices and timelines that he develops deeper feelings for you

But also!!! The version of Viktor who is going around healing people who has not gone full evil borderline cyborg yet also had his own dynamic to him! Live with your yandere lover on his peaceful hippie commune while everyone, like, grows crops for the needy and does borderline habitat for humanity level charity stuff but also there's this constant underlying unshakeable feeling everyone is a little off and cold, like physically cold? Like imagine you and Viktor having a touch-heavy love language because he's been your friend and helping you with your leg and a lot of that involved him needing to touch you, but also for you to trust him and lean on him and the other way around, and once Jayce revives him, the very first thing you notice when you hold his hand again for the first time is how much colder he is. And thus everyone else in the commune has that same sort of... 'something is off' hairs on the back of your neck 'this is the kind of shit dogs bark at' just all around unexplainable bad feeling (because somehow you can subconsciously sense thst everyone is. You know. Kind of. Kind of dead and it's not entirely clear if these are the original people or somehow copies of their consciousnesses)

Wait what's that? You say you don't feel comfortable being boxed in all the time not being able to leave the area and the vibes are honestly just creepy bad here and you're not exactly sure you agree with some of the stuff Viktor is talking about anymore? Did I say "peaceful hippie commune"? Sorry, I meant to say, "dedicated cult hivemind where the second Viktor even remotely suspects you of ANYTHING he has both the people keeping an eye open and he is watching you through their eyes and if you make it known to ANYONE that you're going to leave or escape or whatever the situation is, everyone will drop everything to stop you like it's the fucking Truman Show"

Some HEINOUS fuckshit like, you've got precious items to help you survive or escape hidden under your clothes and you're about to make your getaway and, oh a voice behind you! It's a little girl Viktor healed :) and she's oh so innocently and sweetly asking what you're doing and how nervous you are makes it immediately obvious that you're up to something. You laugh and try and make up a believable lie as soon as you can, "oh, i was feeling really bored so I wanted to jog around!" and she's just like "oh okay! But the jogging paths are the other way, though?" and she's being completely innocent about it. But. You take like. Just a little toooo long to respond, and suddenly she's just, POSTURE SUDDENLY JERKING UPRIGHT, the voice of a full grown man rising up from her throat,

"Please turn back, my love. I would hate to have to chase you"

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

I can totally see alucard needing to constantly scare off men and maybe even some women from trying to pursue the malena siren maiden.

It wouldn't surprise me if he wasn't the only person obsessed with her in village Belmont. How do you think he would sort of show everyone that she's off limits or already taken by him? (although I doubt that would stop the other obsessed pursuer)

and in another train of thought do you think that Trevor and sypha would believe that the siren has alucard under her thrall and that their relationship isn't real and it's just her using her siren power to use him and if so would they try to "save" him from her? That would certainly be a interesting way to introduce the characters to each other 🫣😬🤣

A/N: Oooh, two very good questions!  (For all entries in this series, click here for the tag ‘yandere alucard siren reader’.)

‘The Landwalker’ has a natural hypnotic aura about her. She cannot help it, her species are designed to be alluring, whether she wishes to attract attention or not. Similarly, vampires (and dhampirs, like Alucard) are also profoundly captivating, so too to lure in their prey. 

Thus, Alucard and The Landwalker are at a standstill/equals of sorts when it comes to hypnosis— neither one can supernaturally influence the other. However, just because they are immune to each other’s influence and entrancing natures, the humans of Village Belmont are not. 

Even when The Landwalker has no intentions of charming the folks around her, many weak-willed men, and even some women, find themselves revering her. Even with the uncanny nature of her appearance and the clumsy pronunciation of her speech, The Landwalker finds herself surrounded by many admirers when she socializes amongst the people. 

Such veneration suits her just fine. Personally, she sees nothing wrong with being waited on hand and foot. After all, she is a superior species to the lowly common human. What’s wrong with allowing a select few to do her bidding? 

Alucard on the other hand, finds the concept quite maddening. 

How dare she accept the attention and affection of these other men, these simple-minded human villagers when she has him, the superior, transcendental choice?! 

Alucard puts a stop to it nearly right away. 

He starts with her- taking away various privileges and luxuries she may have grown accustomed to dwelling within the walls of his castle. The third week in a row without a saltwater soak has her finally changing her tune. 

The Landwalker does try, truly she does. But even without using her abilities of hypnosis, and constant shooing away of the men and women who leer, folks still find themselves vying/competing for her attention. 

So The Alucard decides to switch targets, instead focusing his threatening gaze and suggestive words to the human men who can’t seem to stop trailing his beloved like pathetic lost puppies. He talks to them and tells them of her more nasty, inhuman habits. He speaks casually as if blood-drinking and scale-shedding are akin to making small talk about the weather. For those who are not frightened by such details, he decides a physical display of ownership would work best. 

Alucard insists on having matching rings made for him and her. Hell, he goes even further and has a blacksmith make a special diamond encrusted choker-type necklace for his beloved. The silver metal compliments her palor complexion well, and the blood-red rubies within the elegant collar of hers are enough to give more zealous villagers pause. 

Ironically, these possessive actions on Alucard’s part are the same things that give his friends Sypha and Trevor pause. Could it be that perhaps this siren has him under her spell? Despite knowing the dhampir for only a short time, neither Sypha nor Trevor ever imagined that marriage, and ostentatious displays of affection, would ever take place in Alucard’s future. He was much too quiet, too introverted, and withdrawn for that. 

This leads to a particularly malicious confrontation between the siren and the dhampir’s friends. While decorating the nursery for Trevor’s and Sypha’s incoming child, Alucard cannot help but comment aloud how he looks forward to creating his progeny with the 'The Landwalker’ one day. Upon hearing his words, our siren friend ceases her movements and turns at him to bear her sharp teeth. 

“No bahby,” She hisses out before releasing a throaty growl. 

This spurns Sypha and Trevor to take action. 

Sypha immediately lights her hands aflame, while Trevor reaches for his whip. 

It takes their combined efforts, both Alucard and our Siren to convince his friends that neither one of them is under the other’s spell. 

Trevor is the first to realize the actual dynamic at play here, when he hears Alucard’s explanation of their relationship. 

“It’s mutually beneficial,” Alucard assures them. “Besides, it’s not like she has elsewhere to go. Why if either of you met her first on the road, I have no doubt you’d incinerate her before she could open her lips.” 

Trevor may be a monster hunter of the supernatural variety, but his lot in life has also taught him to recognize an asshole when he sees one. 

Trevor tells Sypha to stand down, signaling to her that they’ll discuss more later. 

Surprisingly, this tense encounter only makes Trevor and Sypha closer friends of The Landwalker. Sypha appreciates having someone to discuss magic with, and Trevor appreciates her shared knowledge of monsters of the oceanic world. 

More irksomely however, is where this new dynamic leaves Alucard, which is slightly more edged out compared to before. It only works to cement in his mind his need to continue to show ownership over the siren, lest she, or anyone else for that matter, start to get other ideas. 

A/N 2.0: My apologies for the delays in posting recently. I’ve just been so exhausted from work/life/bs that I’ve had no energy to write, even on the days I’ve managed to find time. It’s been frustrating staying away from what makes me happy for so long. :/ Unfortunately, us adults gotta be adulting sometimes. 

As always, if you enjoyed reading this work, please Like but more importantly, please REBLOG. 

(For those of you who may have just joined us from TikTok, please note that this website functions on REBLOGS, not Likes. So those are always preferred as far as us content creators on here are concerned.)

Like my work? Wanna show your appreciation? Feel free to Buy Me A Coffee <3. 

[asthedeathoflight]

I do think 70s devils minion adds a whole layer to Daniel and Armand's relationship that we're not really taking into account enough bc while it does kind of technically happen in canon (that they break up and then get back together) we never actually get to SEE them when they're back together and so its not really taken into consideration for their dynamic.

But like Armand is someone who has for his entire life been another person's possession, who has defined himself as a person that people Have instead of Love. And what the Queen of the Damned chapter shows is Daniel Molloy as someone who Armand wanted to possess and who wanted to be possessed by Armand. Armand has never owned anything in his entire 500 year life and so he NEEDS to own Daniel, he needs to have just this ONE THING to himself after all this time. And Daniel for his part is very into being so consumed by another person. For a time, Daniel is exactly what Armand needs. Here is a person who cannot hurt him, who wants to belong to him, who he can finally assert authority over and in doing so assert his own independence. Nobody in Armand's life has ever been truly HIS in the way that Daniel is.

But the longer theyre together the less urgent the need to possess and control is, and the more Armand is able to love Daniel selflessly, the more they come into conflict because Daniel still WANTS that level of obsession. Their breakup in the books is inevitable because their relationship was built on impulses that, while important stages in their growth, over time became unhealthy. Daniel needs to get out of his cycle of addiction and Armand needs to grow past needing to possess people to believing they'll stay of their own free will. So they need to break up.

BUT unlike in the books where Armand's resolve ultimately fails him and he turns Daniel anyways, cementing the both of them into both of their unhealthiest habits, show Armand manages to work through his issues to the next stage of his growth: that he needs to let Daniel go. And he does! He lets Daniel go and he bears the burden of their relationship alone for 50 years so that Daniel could not only have a human life but also develop as a person in a way he never could have if he stayed with Armand. Show Daniel is a different man from 70s/book Daniel. He knows who he is. Even though he's falling back into old patterns now that he's a vampire he's still been through this cycle a few times and hes stronger now than he would have been if he was turned when he was 30.

I think, assuming devils minion did happen in the 70s, the present Daniel/Armand dynamic will be different from what we're expecting because they've finally grown enough as people so that they can come together on equal footing which is really important bc Armand has never been someone's equal in a relationship before! This is new territory for him! So I think their relationship has potential for development of both of them as characters to places they never got to go in the books. Please note that this is NOT me saying they will have a perfectly well adjusted healthy relationship I just think that this is the next step past their old dynamic and probably will be more dangerous for other people than it is for them which is always a win.

[tizeline]

Giggling at the fact that Donnie probably has a lot of only child habits like only getting food for himself and eating it Infront of them and getting genuinely annoyed if they try to steal some. Astonished when they borrow anything of his without permission (WHO MOVED MY PENS?!). Being genuinely perplexed when one of his chores gets done randomly 😭

Poor Donnie isn't in on any of the inside jokes probably 😔

LMAO yeah I've been thinking about Only Child Donnie a lot XD

For example, Donnie having no idea how to differentiate between normal sibling bickering and genuine fights. After Raph starts hanging out with Donnie and Leo, he'll get to see way more of that classic sibling bickering in action. And considering Leo's tension with the rest of his family during this time because of the whole Dark Armor incident, he'd worry that Leo and Raph still feel some actual resentment towards each other. Leo and Raph are arguing with each other to the point they start play-wrestling and Donnie is all like "shit shit what do I do they're gonna hurt each other" and the next second Leo and Raph are laughing at random some joke and Donnie is just left confused over the whole interaction because what even was that?? Weren't they mad at each other just a second ago??

I will say though, me and my sibling weren't the type to just share each others stuff freely. Well, we did when we were young, most of our toys we both played with. But maybe because of that we got a bit possessive over our own stuff as we got older (we also shared a room until I was like 10-ish, so we were probably both a bit desparate to become separate induviduals at that point). Point is, if my bastard of a sibling even DARED to step foot into my sacred abode (my room) without my express permission, they would be forced to face my unbridled fury (I'd gently beat them up with pillows)! And if they were to steal as much as a single pencil from my treasury, my wrath would lead me to even more drastic measures (I'd snitch to our parents)!

That being said, I have no idea how The Drax Bros behaved regarding this when growing up. IF they were the type to just yoink each others stuff constantly (which I definitely think is possible) you are completely right that it would drive Donnie up the wall if they did the same to him XD

In my experience and from what I've observed with others, when you have siblings close in age to you, you tend to develop a very intense obsession with everything always needing to be 100% fair and equal. For example, if you're cutting up cake and your siblings piece is as much of a millimeter wider than your own piece, it's basically the end of the world. I can see Leo and Donnie sharing a pizza and afterwards Leo's all outraged over Donnie getting more pizza than him. Donnie's confused cuz they each got an equal amount of slices, but then Leo accuses Donnie of getting all the SLIGHTLY bigger slices and as such got a LITTLE bit more pizza than Leo! Completely unfair!

Actually, Donnie being a math nerd would be good at measuring food in this scenario, his brothers would constantly try to get him to divide any food they're sharing to make sure it's as even and equal as possible. Donnie quickly gets tired of this, but the alternative is the other turtles all arguing with each other over who gets which piece which is even more annoying so he just goes along with it lol.

And oh yeah, Donnie definitely feels quite left out whenever his brothers joke about or even mentions something they did growing up that he did not get to partake in (little does he know that his brothers feels similarly whenever he and April do the same thing and references stuff from their shared childhood that they did not get to be part of)

[vandme12]

Your work is amazing! I've been binge reading your writing for a while now and i was wondering if i can i request ronin with an idol mc if possible?

Encore of the Devil

The lights are blinding, the crowd deafening, but you don’t notice either. Your world is the stage, the spotlight, the thousands of eyes watching your every move. You live for this.

And so does he.

He's not in the audience. Not like the others, screaming your name, clutching glowsticks like lifelines. No, he's in the shadows, watching. Just for you. Always for you.

The first time you saw him, it was backstage after a sold-out show. A shadow against the EXIT sign, a grin carved into moonlight.

"Big fan." His voice dripped honey and venom in equal measure. "Though, I gotta ask, sweetheart... if you disappeared right now, how many people would actually cry?"

He spoke in riddles and flirtations that felt like knives grazing skin. His laughter was a whisper in your ear, cold breath against your pulse. And yet, you laughed too.

"A lot," you had answered with a teasing smile. "I’d be a tragedy."

"Mm. A tragedy, huh? But wouldn't it be fun to see who really mourns you?"

It was dangerous. It was thrilling. It was... intoxicating.

That was months ago. Now, he's everywhere.

A whisper behind the dressing room mirror. A reflection in the dark glass of a limousine window. A laugh in the empty halls when everyone else has left.

"Y'know, angel, you shine so bright up there. Makes me wanna snuff out every other light in the world just so you’re the only thing left."

And it hits you. He’s serious.

This isn’t just a game to him. You are the stage, the audience, the performance. The world is just background noise.

"You’re insane," you whisper, but your heart races in a way that tells you that doesn’t matter.

He tilts his head, smirking. "Crazy for you, sweetheart."

The stage is everything. The cheers of the fans, the dazzling lights, the perfection they expect from you—it's all-consuming.

To them, you’re an angel, an untouchable god wrapped in sparkles and smiles. You say all the right things, make every moment feel personal, and when they chant your name, it’s like breathing.

You live for them.

But the truth is, they don’t know you. Not really.

Because the real you is just a person. A person who wakes up late when they can, who eats cheap convenience store snacks in the dead of night, who complains about sore feet after a long dance rehearsal.

A person who, for the past year, has been hopelessly, recklessly in love with a devil.

Ronin is watching you from the couch, arms spread lazily along the backrest, one foot resting on the coffee table like he owns the place. (And maybe he does—he owns every room he’s in, after all.)

His eyes, sharp as knives and twice as dangerous, track your every move as you towel-dry your hair. You can feel his gaze burning against your skin, not possessive, not obsessive—just knowing.

And that’s what makes it so terrifying.

"Y'know," he muses, tilting his head with a smirk, "the world would lose its mind if they knew their beloved starlet spent her nights curled up with someone like me."

You roll your eyes, tossing the towel aside. "They’d lose their minds if they knew I spent my nights curled up at all."

It’s true. Your fans don’t want you to be human. They want you to be perfect. Eternal. Someone they can project their dreams onto. If they knew the truth—the late-night junk food, the unwashed dishes, the lazy days where you barely leave bed—they’d shatter.

If they knew about Ronin?

They’d riot.

"Mm. You say that, but I think they’d love it," Ronin hums, standing up, closing the distance between you in two slow, deliberate steps. He towers over you, his grin lazy but his presence suffocating.

You look up at him, unimpressed. "Oh? And what makes you think that?"

His fingers brush your chin, tilting your head ever so slightly. Not forceful, just enough to remind you who he is.

"Because they already worship you, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice silk and sin. "And what's a god without their devil?"

Your breath catches for just a second. You hate that he can do that to you—that he can always do that to you.

So you push back.

"A god doesn’t need a devil to shine," you whisper, stepping closer, letting your fingers ghost along his wrist. "But maybe a devil needs a god to keep him from burning out."

For the first time tonight, he actually looks surprised.

Then, slowly, he laughs. Low and dark, his head tilting back as the sound rumbles through his chest. You don’t flinch. You don’t waver. You just watch as he regains control, as his gaze locks onto yours again, something sharper, something hungrier flickering beneath his amusement.

"Oh, angel, you really are somethin’ else."

He leans in, breath ghosting against your lips, his grin widening.

"Guess that means I’ll have to keep you, huh?"

You smile, brushing your lips against his in the faintest tease before pulling away. "Like you ever had a choice."

His grin doesn’t falter. If anything, it grows.

Because the thing about Ronin?

He loves a game.

And you?

You might just be his favorite player.

EXTRA! HEADCANONS!

The Perfect Fantasy, The Real You: To the world, you’re a dream. An untouchable idol, beloved by all, shining so brightly that people forget stars are just burning things in the sky. But to Ronin? You’re real. And he loves you for that. The messy, imperfect, human you.

Two Masks, One Secret: You both play your roles flawlessly. To the world, you’re the sweet, smiling idol. To the world, he’s the charming, enigmatic devil. But behind closed doors? He’s the one who listens when your fake smile falters, and you’re the one who holds his face like he’s worth more than just bloodstains and chaos.

Jealous? Him? Absolutely.: He knows you have to act affectionate with fans. He knows you have to smile at other people. But that doesn’t mean he likes it. No, he doesn’t get jealous. He just... makes sure they know their place. A look, a whispered threat, and suddenly, nobody wants to stand too close to you anymore.

The Only One Who Can Unmask Him: Ronin is always playing the devil. Always putting on a show. But you’re the only one who’s ever seen him drop the act. The one person he lets himself be vulnerable with. And that? That’s dangerous. Because if anything ever happened to you...

Chaos in Love: Dating Ronin means nothing is normal. Late-night drives where he speeds just to hear you scream. Breaking into places just because he can. Whispered threats disguised as sweet nothings. And yet, for all his madness, he’s so gentle with you. The way he touches you, the way he holds you—it’s almost reverent.

"You’re Mine, But I’m Yours.": Ronin is possessive. Terrifyingly so. But it’s not just one-sided. He doesn’t just claim you—you claim him right back. You don’t fear him, you don’t cower, and that drives him insane in the best way.

The Ultimate High-Stakes Romance: He kills people who hurt others. You dazzle crowds who would die for your attention. He whispers in your ear about the thrill of watching life drain from someone’s eyes. You sing songs that make people cry. He’s chaos. You’re light. And together?

[jojikawa]

Do Not Disturb (Seriously)

Mista needs a hand late at night and tries to ask Abbacchio for help, only to realize that he’s interrupted something spicy after seeing Abbacchio sweaty and covered in glossy lip stains!

NSFW (intercourse p in v, choking, perverted drunk-ish confession, groping), oc-turned y/n, AFAB, petite feminine y/n, possessive Abba.

Same y/n from In Other Words, I love you.

Mista doesn’t think much of going to see Abbacchio in the middle of the night. Most of the time, he’s awake, drinking and listening to music. Tonight, Mista needs him to use Moody Blues to replay the last moments of a fight where his target got away. Some jackass has been lurking by the docks and Bruno asked Mista to confront him. He did and then…yeah. Anyways, he’d rather ask Abbacchio for help than be chewed out by Bruno in the morning.

When Mista approaches his door, he can hear jazz music playing faintly through the door to his room. Great. He’s awake! 

Now he doesn’t have to worry about him bitching about being woken up in the middle of the night. He pounds the door. “Hey! Abbacchio! Bucciarati needs us! There’s some creepy-ass stand user around the docks. You in there?!”

The music lowers just a bit, becoming even more faint than before. “Abbacchio—?” Before Mista can shout again, the door slowly cracks open just enough for his head to poke out. “I’m not interested. Figure it out yourself.” He slurs, indicating that he may be a bit tipsy. He tries to shut the door but Mista wedges his foot in. “Hold on, wait a minute! Since when have you been one to say no to Bruno?” He hopes that Bruno’s name is enough to save his ass and get some help…but it doesn’t seem to be working.

Then he notices that Abbacchio is a bit off. And it has more to do with him just drinking a bit too much wine. His appearance is somewhat disheveled, hair messy, glossy smudges on his lips and jawline…Abbacchio doesn’t wear lip gloss, does he? The longer he looks, the worse it gets. His skin glistens with sweat and red blotches like tiny bruises are scattered around his collarbone. “You okay? You look kinda crazy right now.” Mista raises an eyebrow.

Abbacchio’s murderous stare is enough to burn holes in Mista like the sun. No. 5, as curious as could be, tries to take a peek inside but is met with Moody Blues flicking his forehead. “Get outta here Mista.”

“Ow…” Mista lifts his hat a bit to rub his forehead.

“Mm…Leoooone…”  A soft, sleepy voice cuts through the tension. “Who’s at the door? What’s taking so long?” Abbacchio flinches at your voice. Mista watches as a pair of arms wraps around Abbacchio’s waist from behind, pressing your cheek against his toned back. Abbacchio’s entire body locks up at your feather-like touch…every muscle locking like he’s bracing himself for a stand attack, grip on the door frame making his knuckles white. He’s no longer able to keep eye contact with Mista, looking down out of embarrassment. His body heats and his pale skin exposes his reddening ears.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You peek around Abbacchio’s large body, revealing that you are dressed in nothing but Abbacchio’s jacket, equally disheveled with messy hair, tired eyes and glossy lips. “I’m beginning to miss y—-Mista?!”  You part from Abbacchio closing the fabric around your exposed breasts. The two of you are flushed. No one knows that the two of you had anything going on!

Mista’s gaze flickers between you and Abbacchio. “YOU TWO ARE—-?! WAIT, IS THAT WHY YOU WERE—?!”

Abbacchio pushes you behind him, shielding your naked body from his view. “Go. Now.” His face burns crimson at the drama unfolding. Mista sweats, an awkward smile forming on his face. “Uh, ya know what, just forget I came here!” He gives his best performance so that Abbacchio and Moody Blues don’t rip him to shreds. Mista and his sextuple of bullets speed off into the night. 

Once he knows Mista has vanished, Abbacchio slams the door shut so hard that it startles you. As he whirls around, her large hand enclosed around your neck, his face a beautiful masterpiece of flustered fury! 

“I told you to stay in bed, woman,” he hisses, squeezing the sides of your throat with every word. “Now look at what you’ve done! They’ll never let me hear the end of this!”

Your delicate hands are placed on his wrist. You’re not nearly strong enough to stop him. You both know that. A smile graces your lips, eyes filled with soft-sleep lust. “Who knows. Maybe he would’ve kept quiet if you offered him something in return.”

His eyes narrow at you. “What? You tryna ruin me, woman?” His large thumb presses into your plump, kiss-chapped lips. His grip tightens even more. Not enough to hurt but enough to send a silent warning.

“Kiss me, Leone.” You stroke his strong arm and like a spell his grip loosens. He curses and crashes his lips into yours, hand still firmly around your throat. The air forming around the two of you is electric. His free hand finds your lower waist, pulling you closer against his body before settling at the curve of your ass cheek. He squeezes so hard that the fat spreads between his fingers.

“You…could’ve invited him in, ya know.” You mutter in between kisses. It causes him to pull away. “What’d you say?” He pushes you against the wall. 

“As a way to keep him quiet. He could’ve been a part of the action.” You lick your lips and you can see his eye twitch. “Why? You got a thing for Mista or some shit? You must really want me to lock you in this damn room.”

“I wouldn’t say that…it’s just…he is kinda cute…big, hands and—“ Abbacchio silences you with a squeeze of your neck so tight that it blocks your airway. “Repeat that for me. Go ahead.”

“L-Leone.” You feel a wetness between your legs. It’s hard to keep your sultry composure when he’s doing such a better job at being this hot. “I don’t share.”

You’re unable to fight against Abbacchio once he’s pushing you against the closed door, ready to punish the both of you for your lack of self control. Your bodies are so close that you can feel him getting hard again. No—he’s been hard all this time. He’s rock hard, basking in the softness of your skin against his, kissing and sucking on the exposed parts of your skin. “You’re mine, you hear?” But it doesn’t sound like you have a choice anyways. 

“Show me then.” You challenge him yet you’re completely at his mercy. His love rains down on you like an unrelenting storm, kissing you until your lips swell, kneading your ass cheeks until you’re practically dripping from the contact. He can tell by how wet his fingers get when he hasn’t even touched you yet.

His long, white hair tickles the inside of your thick thighs as he settles himself between them, parting them to get a look at the soaked lace panties. He rips them with his hands. “Leone.” You reach down to stop him before you’re restrained by Moody Blues. “Stai zitta, donna.”  His swirling tongue in your cunt sends you to heaven. Never have you had someone kiss and suck it the way he does, acting like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“We…used your…last condom, mio caro.” You tell him, breathless but he doesn’t seem to care as he’s readying himself at your watering cunt. “L-Leone?” You tremble when you feel his leaking tip press against you, threatening to penetrate you at any second. You’re already sore from a few hours ago.

“You know, I kinda like the idea of someone seeing us.”  He mutters, tone still slurred and sleepy. Shaft getting wet from his precum and your sweet juices. He’s always been private. This is a bit unlike him…but it’s welcome.

“Oh yeah?” You egg him on, rolling your hips to match him. He grunts. “Yeah.” And pulls you closer. “Remember that time when I was a cop, I arrested you n’ you kept rubbing your ass on me…”

Of course you remember something like that. A cute, doe-eyed police officer Leone Abbacchio trying to do all he can’t for Naples. It feels like so long ago but it’s only been three, although you didn't find him again until recently. You never expected him to join the mafia but this version of him is cute too. “It was a happy accident.” You say. It was not.

“It wasn’t a damn accident.” He hisses, slowly pushing his big hard sick inside. You hiss too, feeling your insides split as it forces its way in. “But when I told you to stop, I didn’t really mean it. I liked that shit.” His strokes start really slow but deliberate. “I came so fucking hard that night.” 

You hum. “You’ve been wanting me for that long, huh?” You bite your lip. “Not surprised. You did let me go.” 

He smirks at you. “Yeah because if I stuck your ass in a cell then I wouldn’t be able to do this.” He starts to pick up the pace, earning pretty moans that originated deep within your chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and you feel him crawl on top of you. His piercing irises star deep into your soul, fucking you deeper and deeper into his mattress, the creaking of the headboard becoming much louder than the music he chose to play. “You feel so damn good.” He mumbles, drunk on the feeling of you. “…so tight.”

“Leone!” You try to scream but it’s caught in your throat like a whisper. Your walls are squeezing his dick so hard all he can do is bury his face in the crook of your neck, still thrusting until you throw your head back. “Baby, I’m gonna cum!!”

“Then cum, bambina.”

The next morning, Abbacchio wakes to the distant smell of breakfast being made. He tries to get up but he’s weighed down by your leg hooked around his hip. Numb arm trapped beneath you. Sigh. “Come on, get up.” He nudges you but you protest by nuzzling into his neck. “Come on,” He says again but places a kiss on your forehead. He’s pretty sober now.

His body stiffens when you stir and then your eyes flutter open. “L…Leone?” Like a gentleman, he helps you sit up. Your body is still sore from last night. “Bucciarati scheduled a meeting today, so I gotta be there.” He tells you. “I need my…jacket.” Once he realizes why you’re wearing it, he turns red and avoids your eyes. 

“Oh.” You shrug it off. “Sorry.” You laugh. “Are you sure that you wanna go after last night?” You raise an eyebrow. He chokes. “What happened last night?”

“Mista–”

“Mista?! That wasn’t a dream?”

[yourlittlebunnyy]

kind hearted -tamlin x reader

masterlist - honeyed flower

this can be read alone, but i suggest reading honeyed flower before!

summary: Tamlin proves that his heart is pure.

warnings: super cute and fluffy

wc: 2.8k

Tamlin is the High Lord of the Spring Court, a place where fairies reside, yet in five hundred years he has never seen any, until... a few days ago.

He can't get you and your wings, your face and your joyful, selfless personality out of his head. You even gave him a kiss on the cheek, making him feel like a little kid struggling with his first crush, and damn, it sure wasn't like that.

A rush of awe curls the wrinkles in his forehead into a grimace. You're making him weak, and he barely knew you.

He tosses and turns in bed, unable to sleep, and it's your fault. He sits at the end of the bed, elbows resting on his legs and hands holding his face. With a sigh, he gets up and gets dressed.

The night is silent, and the only light available to him is the moon, which makes his horse's coat glow a shimmering white. It reminds him of your wings.

He retraces his steps, surrounded by silence and little else. To enter the village he must get the approval of the Village Chiefs, who note whether he has a pure heart. He thinks hard about what to do.

Tamlin is not sure he owns it, after all the things he has done, the people he has hurt. But you told him his heart is pure, that the trees themselves told you so.

Yeah, he thinks puffing out a laugh to himself, you talk to the trees. It's so surreal that he wonders if he didn't dream it, but he chases the thought away when he sees the small valley and flowers as big as trees in the distance. He keeps riding for a while, and when the trees thin out completely, he decides to dismount and proceed on foot.

Your village is just as beautiful and fragrant as he remembered, and his gaze points directly to your flower, the scent of thick honey in the air seems to call to him even though he cannot see it in this darkness. Fortunately, a few fireflies illuminate the area.

He notices the first two flowers, the tallest ones, those of your Village Chief. He remembers what you told him the first time you saw each other; he remembers everything all too well. He sees the figures of two elderly fairies resting and wonders if he hasn't made a mistake. Everyone is clearly asleep and he doesn't want to disturb them, fearing mainly that he will arouse annoyance and not be admitted.

Just as he turns to retrace his steps, an elderly male voice, inspiring sagacity and wisdom, speaks. He almost gets a deja-vu of how you met.

"Who are you, boy?" He says, and sleep leaves clear marks on the fairy's face. Tamlin watches him and does not speak. He, too, possesses wings, but not as beautiful as yours. His seem graying and bear clear signs of his age. His face, though old, is still beautiful. However, he does not seem to appreciate his silence.

"Are you a visitor?" He asks testily, flapping his large wings only a couple of times to cushion the descent from his flower. He keeps his tone low so as not to wake the rest of the village, but another fairy, the other Village Chief, seems to wake up anyway.

"I am Tamlin. The High Lord of this Court." He says confidently, the authoritative High Lord tone. He just hopes it's the right thing to do. Maybe they'll let him in anyway, given his notoriety, without looking at his heart.

"Well, we are the Village Chiefs. I'm Dina, and this is Finn. What are you doing here, boy?" Tamlin is surprised by their words. It's as if they just don't recognize his figure, he wants to retort that he could kill them all, but in the end what would change for him? They did nothing but talk to him as if he were their equal. Maybe he doesn't mind so much, freeing himself from social constructs.

"I just happened to be here by accident, I was riding with my horse." He shifts and with his chin points to the animal tied to a tree not too far away. The two fairies watch it open-mouthed, as if they had never seen such a thing. Similar to your reaction the first time you saw it, he thinks, have you never seen horses in your life?

They recover a few moments later, their gaze back on him. They seem to have noticed his little lie, or maybe the trees have told them, but they say nothing.

"If you want to enter our village, we will have to establish that your heart is pure." Finn says with a hand on his chin. "I'll go and get things ready.

Entertain the visitor, dear." Dina nods. And with that, the fairy leaves his sight as he enters the dark forest, a handful of fireflies following him. Perhaps he is able to speak to them as well.

He feels the female's gaze on him, and he keeps his face high and proud, despite the agitation eating him inside. What if he is not as pure as you told him? What if he can never see you again?

"And so, you are here tonight because you found our village by chance?" The fairy's voice is accusatory, her wings seem to open even wider, proud.

Tamlin nods as he looks into her eyes. Fae often felt intimidated by such a thing, but she didn't seem to pay too much attention to it.

And anyway, his wasn't completely a lie. He had indeed found you and your village by accident. Just not tonight. Dina raises an eyebrow. Tamlin wonders if crossing his hands to his chest would be appropriate, but the fairy goes away before he can do so.

Tamlin does not know what to do now that he is alone. He keeps looking in the direction of your flower as if among the darkness you might pop out at any moment.

A figure does indeed make space, but its silhouette does not match yours. Is it Dina, who has returned with a... big leaf?

"Here." She hands him what he recognizes to be a palm leaf. What on earth are palm trees doing in the Spring Court? He grabs it and twirls it between his fingers, his eyebrows furrowed. Dina seems to notice his confusion.

"It will be used to cover you during the ritual." Tamlin squints. You didn't tell him that he must be naked, and you especially didn't tell him that his only garment, if you can call it that, would be a leaf from a palm tree.

"Don't make that face, boy. You'll be alone, maybe." At this point he is even more confused and only wishes someone would explain to him how this blessed ritual takes place. Finn returns a few moments later, more tired than before. Dina greets him by supporting him with her arms, bringing him close to his flower and making sure he goes up without a problem. She whispers something in his ear and places a kiss on his forehead before returning to him.

"Finn is tired. I will lead you." Without waiting for an answer she slips through the trees, and the fairy's fireflies now wander around Dina. Tamlin follows her without a word.

They walk for a few minutes until they come to a small expanse in the trees. How did he not notice it before?

He looks around and admires the landscape. His eyes become hungry for that atmosphere. It is a dream. He never realized that his court could contain so much beauty. He wonders if at this moment he is being blessed by Mother herself.

The trees have the gaps between the bark glowing, making them look ethereal. The small empty space in the center is covered with a carpet of flowers that seems to glow in the same way as the trunks and roots. And kneeling in it is you. Dressed only in a light, short white robe, there is you.

Dina called you as she was going to get the leaf. You would have liked to sleep, but she shook your flower making you annoyed.

"Don't touch my flower!" You say coming down as if the petals were a slide, you love doing that. Dina rolls her eyes, visibly sleepy like you. Fairies need more sleep than other species, or they tend to get either nervous or stupid. It is also why they are so secretive - they are not particularly productive in society.

"A visitor is waiting for you in the Pool of Purity for the ritual." She simply tells you, then disappears toward her flower. You sigh, but are happy nonetheless. It is strange to have two visitors arrive in such a short time, Tamlin and now this stranger. Or maybe - your wings have a spasm - you lengthen your steps to the small secret clearing and find no one. Maybe Dina has gone to get whoever is here.

You kneel on the fresh dewy grass and set to work: the sooner you complete the ritual, the sooner you can return to the softness of your flower. You place your flattened palms on the cool earth and begin to hum a prayer for the Mother. The trees begin to glow with magic that fades from pink to purple to blue, and expands to the center of the clearing, covering it with small, colorful flowers that are also overflowing with energy.

You are focused on your little prayer that you don't even turn to look when you hear Dina speaking to the visitor.

"I leave you in the hands of our sweetest Y/n. She will guide you through the ritual, otherwise she will escort you back to the border." And with these last words, she leaves.

Only now do you raise your head, your hands still in the blades of grass that have now turned blue. Your breath catches in your throat and your body stiffens at the sight of Tamlin. So he kept his word and came back! He offers you a big smile, and careless of having left the prayer in half, you jump up and run to hug him. This time he is prepared and promptly reciprocates the affection-filled squeeze, his hands on your hips as he inhales your honey-sweet scent. Your wings quiver as you hold him even tighter. You are sad as you part, and a small pout wrinkles your nose. Tamlin chuckles as he turns the leaf over in his fingertips.

"So you will be my guide, Y/n." You offer him a joyful smile as you hop back to kneel where you were before, resting your hands on your thighs you watch him. He is so beautiful with all the colors reflected on his face, so magical.

"I'm very excited, TamTam! I think all you have to do is undress and lie down on the bed of flowers.

The trees will give their final verdict when they are ready." Tamlin looks at you. You can tell by his glance that he is slightly embarrassed.

"Okay, I'll go behind that tree while you change. You make yourself comfortable!" With a graceful movement you stand up and give him his space, and as he changes he feels his heartbeat calm down. If the trees determine his purity, and not the Village Chiefs, then he has nothing to worry about.

You come back out of your hiding place after a couple of minutes and find Tamlin lying down, his arms behind his head revealing his sculpted chest. He looks like a statue from how perfect he is. Your gaze wanders over his body with curiosity, a slight blush covers your cheeks, and Tamlin chuckles when he sees your pupils dilate, he feels your eyes on him as if they're branding him.

"Now... now I'll proceed." You're slightly awkward, and Tamlin can't help but wonder if this is the first time you've done this. Or that you've seen a naked man.

You kneel in the same spot and place your palms on the ground, just as you were before he came. Tamlin is about to speak, but you block him with a hand sign.

"Show respect, Tamlin." You warn him in a serious tone that he has never heard on you. You feel a little guilty, so you add, "and please extend your arms down your body or the roots won't be able to catch you."

"What?"

"Shhh" You shush him once more. Silence is restored again, and for a few minutes the only audible sound is the forest. Then you start chanting a prayer and Tamlin does not recognize the words, but he recognizes the language. It is the ancient language of the Fae, long since forgotten. How do you know it? No, how do the fairies know it?

The problem he has just posed fades when he feels something touch him basically all over, from his neck to his feet. He opens the eyes he didn't even realize he had closed. Luminescent roots are pinning him to the ground. What the hell? Is this by any chance a trap?

He tries to struggle, but it's too late, and whatever prayer you're reciting is blocking all his powers. He watches you, your eyes closed and your lips whispering ancient and long-forgotten words. All this time you have been luring him to you with your perfect face and those inviting wings only to do what, kill him? Tamlin feels bitterness in his mouth.

You open your eyes after the trees inform you that something is wrong. You look at Tamlin trying to free himself from the roots and squint, it's a miracle you didn't pull your hands off the ground or you would have interrupted the ritual.

"Tam! Stop immediately or all this will be for nothing!" You say alarmed. He looks at you coldly, anger and rancor in his eyes. You don't understand, wasn't this what he wanted? Maybe it's your fault, you're doing something wrong. Your eyes become glossy.

"Are you trapping me?" He asks. Everything is clearer to you now; you giggle when you realize what all the fuss was about. He thought you were trying to hurt him!

"No, silly." Laughter shakes your shoulders. "The roots will reach to your heart, to listen to it. They won't hurt you!" Tamlin mentally calls himself a fool.

You smile at him one last time before closing your eyes again and resuming your chants.

After minutes, or maybe hours, the roots finally begin to recede and your prayers cease. You take your hands off the earth and thank Mother one last time. You get up, stretching your legs and yawning. The sun is rising and the other fairies are probably waking up now. Tamlin stands up, supporting the leaf with one hand, and looks at you expectantly. You blush heavily and go back behind the tree.

You make your way to him toward the flower field, while meanwhile your friends have gathered in a circle to find out the verdict. You keep your chin up, proud. You have always been on their side, never on this. You take great pride for what you just did.

"I thought the ritual was over." Tamlin whispers from behind your ear. Your wings seem to shiver at that closeness.

"Not yet. Now the Village Chiefs will open the flower and tell if you possess a pure heart." You turn to him and point a finger at his chest. He takes the hand you used and kisses your knuckles, smiling at you. Your eyes land on your bare feet as a lovely blush covers your cheeks.

You bring him next to Dina and Finn, who seems to have recovered, and they put Tamlin between them.

You retrace your steps to the small clearing where you performed the ritual and grab the taller flower that sprang up where Tamlin once lay. More than flower, a bud.

And when the two Village Chiefs make it bloom, then the color of its petals will tell whether he can enter or not.

You place it in Dina's hands and stand beside her. Your heart is pounding even if you already know that Tamlin has a pure heart. You are also happy that the Village Chief fairy trusted you so much that she gave you such a complex task.

Also, you feel useful! This is one of the few rituals you can do without a mate.

Dina begins to blow on it, murmuring a pleading prayer to the Mother, and then passes the sprout to Finn, who does the same. Finally it reaches the hands of Tamlin, who holds it uncertain of what to do. He meets your gaze in a question, and you smile at him, nodding, indicating that everything is going according to schedule.

The flower slowly blooms, revealing a beautiful rose -- white.

You laugh ecstatically and run to hug Tamlin, who is initially confused, but after your gesture understands he has passed the ritual. The Village Chiefs offer him a little bow and as if by instinct he reciprocates, one hand still clasped in yours and the other holding the lovely flower between his fingers.

The crowd of fairies thins out, the Village Chiefs themselves leave to begin their day, and it remains just you and Tamlin in the flower field.

"What does it mean if the flower is white?"

"Not only is your heart pure, TamtTam, but kind. You are kind hearted. And you did so well!" You exclaim, your eyes glistening with happiness. The wings must have twitched as many times as the fingers on your hands. He smiles sweetly at you.

"What now?" He asks you. You stare at him for a while and think about what is missing to show him: unfortunately nothing, you already showed him everything a few nights ago. Just as you're oing to pout, Violet and Spring appear from behind a flower, making you squeal excitedly. You jump and keep touching Tamlin's arm to get his attention, and when you have it, you point to a burgundy-red flower.

"Look, TamTam. Those are the little animals I told you about, the two fawns! Do you want to meet them?" And how could Tamlin say no, when you look at him with those big bunny eyes.

read more about tamlin and fairy here! 🎀

[beepboopkek]

— Strip Starchess Part 2 (F!Reader)

Including: Jing Yuan x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !! , afab!reader, pwp but barely, Jing Yuan is a little bastard (affectionate), stripping (who would've guessed), possible grammatical errors(I tried), Jing Yuan calls you pet names (dear), no use of y/n, kind of . left at a cliffhanger, pu$$y eating, 0rga$m denial (only one time), edging, possessive jing yuan, he goes a little feral, safe sane and consensual w/c: 2.2k a/n: hello I'm back with my jing yuan word vomit I hope u guys like this... i forgot anon's name but they gave me the idea so I went with it but after some time it was getting too much so I'm jus leaving it at this.. don't need to make full-fledged smut drabbles anyway :D thank u anon u a real one fr fr also amab version is also posted !!!!! hope u guys like this :3

The conditions for this game of Strip Starchess were different.

Way too different.

You had established a few rules between the both of you, the main one being that— accessories or anything removable on your or the general’s body were officially counted as an article of clothing and,

The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

Jing Yuan's smug suggestion, much to your annoyance.

Yet, you reluctantly ended up agreeing.

You sat comfortably on the floor cushion as you waited for your husband to come home, excitement bubbling through you as you thought of your little plan.

You're going to win this time.

To start the plan, the first thing you did was to wear as many accessories as possible, you're sure you'll one-up him this way. 

The second phase of your plan, however, would begin during the game.

You busied yourself on your phone when you heard the door to your house shutting close and the rustle of clothes.

Jing Yuan rounded the corner and smiled at you, noticing the anticipation on your face and the impatient tapping of your hand.

“Well, someone's excited to lose.” 

“You bet! Wait, who said I'm losing? We're on equal footing this time, you're not getting out of this one.”

You folded your arms and huffed proudly, so sure of your upcoming victory.

“I'm not going to go easy on you.”

“You said that last time, dear, do you need a reminder of how that ended up for you?” 

The game hadn't even started and he was already pulling out his tricks.

You were not going to lose.

Jing Yuan quickly settled down, listening patiently as you stated all the rules this time, not wanting to repeat the mistake you made in the previous game.

There were only 2 matches this time, a third only if there's a tie which made it a bit … difficult for your husband.

Not because he thought he would lose but more so because he loved your enthusiasm to beat him in the very game he had mastered since a young age.

… He'll go easy this time, that's decided.

The first match started with vigour, both of you moving your pawns back and forth to avoid losses.

Eventually, the match ended with you as the loser, even though Jing Yuan tried to leave obvious spots for you, he still got you in a checkmate.

You were down a few accessories, nothing too bad,

The second phase of your plan to win begins soon.

With the second match starting, you decided to be more aggressive while playing, granting you a few of Jing Yuan's pawns and of course, the sight of a-few-trinkets-less General.

Your luck ran out just as fast as it came, though.

In Jing Yuan's words, time for the Masterstroke.

“Oh, looks like I have to remove another accessory, that's a shame.” 

You looked at your hand, excitement bubbling in your chest as you tried not to giggle at what you were about to do next.

You raised your dominant hand where your husband could see it and slipped off your wedding ring, before looking him right in the eye.

“Is it my turn?”

Jing Yuan narrowed his eyes.

“ …Yes.”

You played excitedly, this is going just as planned.

You knew that if you took off the ring, his attention would immediately be drawn to why you took it off and leave him more susceptible to losing.

Turns out, you were very wrong.

Jing Yuan straightened up, his once pleasant smile drawn into a frown now, he looked at the board for a second and before you could blink, he played his move.

You were taken aback, definitely, you hadn't expected him to be paying more attention to the game now.

Not a problem, though. You had a few other tricks up your sleeve.

You took a while to play your move as Jing Yuan stared at you silently.

He lost a pawn. 

Jing Yuan removed his hair ribbon and played his move before you could even process the fact that he had his hair loose.

This being the last game, you played as cleverly as you could, dodging his attacks to the best of your ability. However, when you lost a pawn you would deliberately remove the specific accessories that your dear husband had lovingly gifted you.

But, somehow— your plan was working against you.

Jing Yuan had barely spoken a word since you took off the wedding ring, only giving you a tight-lipped smile when you made a joke, nodding or replying in hums when you talked.

The second match ended just as quickly as it had started and to no one's surprise, you lost.

Is it too late to start rethinking your decision?

You glanced at the board and back at Jing Yuan, who finally smiled at you warmly.

“The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.”

You paused.

“Those are the rules, yes, but! You forget that the winner is decided by how many accessories or clothes they have on.” 

“Count.”

You began tapping the few garments and trinkets around your body, silently counting them in your mind.

“Loudly.”

“ … There's six in total.”

“You've lost.”

“No way! Count everything in front of me right now, I know you've cheated!”

You were exasperated, there's no way you lost, Jing Yuan looked empty enough.

Right?

“Nine in total.”

The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

You sighed as Jing Yuan only smiled back at you in pure amusement. Damnit. You can't be a sore loser.

You raised your hands in defeat, pouting as you saw his face light up.

“Do as you please, general.”

Jing Yuan chuckled at that, moving across the floor and picking you up, standing as he slung your body over his sturdy shoulder and moved towards your shared bedroom.

“Oh, wow! Do I get the privilege of a bed this time? I am most grateful, general.”

You teased playfully, grabbing at his loose hair and gently tugging a few strands.

There was a light slap to your ass, you squeaked in surprise— just about to start voicing your complaints when Jing Yuan spoke first.

“Trying to butter me up, hm? I'm afraid you won't get anywhere with that. You've invited more than enough trouble for yourself already.”

You huffed, he saw through all of your tactics.

“By doing what, exactly? Losing? Shouldn't you be happy about that?”

Jing Yuan gently dropped you onto the large bed, your soft body sinking into the mattress as your legs dangled off the edge.

He towered over you, placing his hand in his pocket, digging for something.

“No.”

You folded your arms to your chest and raised an eyebrow– probing him to speak more.

He dug out a ring from his pocket, along with the long red ribbon he had taken out of his tied hair earlier and held up both items.

“You took off your wedding ring.” 

Jing Yuan got onto the bed on his knees, leaning down to cage you between his arms as he looked into your eyes.

“—and I will not let that pass.”

You laughed, throwing your head back on the bed as you struggled to breathe.

“So, that's what you're upset about?”

Jing Yuan pouted, his long hair pooling over his shoulders, almost touching you.

You giggled as you clasped your hands behind his neck, pulling his face down and stopping it right before your lips touched.

Jing Yuan’s breath hitched at the action, his face dusted with a light shade of red.

“What are you going to do about it, general?”

You smirked as you saw his eyes narrow, just about to give another snarky remark when he sealed your words with his mouth, kissing you passionately. You fisted his hair and kissed him back, heat simmering through your body as thoughts flooded your mind.

He pushed you further up the bed as he settled in between your legs and kissed you like he needed air, departing from your lips with heavy pants and creating some distance between the two of you to pull you to sit up.

“Hold out your hands and cup your palms together.”

You obeyed instantly, unsure of what he was about to do but not willing to test his patience further.

He placed the wedding ring in your hands before speaking again,

“Now, interlock your hands.”

You did as you were told again, the cold metal biting into your skin, you looked at him with confusion written all over your face. 

Before you could speak, though, Jing Yuan raised the hand holding his hair ribbon and wrapped it around your wrists.

“Jing Yuan!”

He ignored your exasperated voice as he continued to bind your forearms together. 

It didn't really reach your elbows, it wasn't long enough for that but it definitely restricted your movement, especially with the tightness Jing Yuan had kept.

Satisfied with the makeshift arm bound he had made, he sat back on his knees and looked at you with amusement.

“If that ring slips out of your hands, we'll stop.” Jing Yuan sealed your lips with a devouring kiss again, pushing you back to lie down on the bed as he tore the few clothes you had of your body, throwing the shreds as they scattered around your room. He pushed your bound hands above you, kissing down your throat and sucking in all the places he knew you wouldn't be able to cover up the next day.

“Jing Yuan— My clothes! They’re my favourite—fuck— why did you tear them off?” You could barely concentrate, your husband's hands roamed your body like they were almost destined to do so— touching, groping and feeling each part as you shuddered in his hold. “I’ll buy you new ones—”

He bit down on a nipple, eliciting a sharp cry from you. “—I’ll buy everything for you so that you can wear it and everyone knows you’re mine—mine and only mine.”Oh, you fucked up. Big time. You had never seen Jing Yuan this possessive over you. Over the wedding ring?

Your string of thoughts is cut off as you feel Jing Yuan grab the back of your thighs and curl his hands around them, proceeding to lick a wet stripe up your sticky folds, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden contact.

When exactly did he get down there? Jing Yuan buried his face into your pussy, moaning at the tangy taste as he dipped his tongue inside you. Your bound hands came down towards his head, just about to release them from the firm hold you had kept them in for aeons-know-what reason when your husband pulled away completely.

“Watch the hands, dear.” You groaned in frustration this time, pouting at him as best as you could being completely at his expense. “C’mon, Yu! You weren’t serious about that, were you?” “Oh, very serious.” Jing Yuan dipped down again to kiss the inside of your thighs, moving his face closer. “If that ring slips out of your hold, I’ll leave you here.” A blow of cool air on your clit made your body jerk in response.

“I'll untie your arms and bind them to the bed instead. So you'll be left here, dripping onto the sheets while I go cook us some dinner. How does that sound, hm?”

Jing Yuan spoke in a low voice, right against your pussy, which was, to your annoyance, visibly wet.

Bastard.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

You grumbled something back in response.

A nip to your folds, granting him another jerk of your body.

“I didn't quite catch that, dear.”

You whined and clasped your interlocked hands tighter, feeling the metal of the ring that had now become warm from your heated skin. You moved them back to their original position– above your head. “I'll be careful— Just– don't stop, please.”

You could feel the general's smile before he placed a gentle kiss on your clit. 

“Good job.”

Jing Yuan went back to enthusiastically eating you out, dipping only the tip of his tongue inside you before pulling his mouth back up to stimulate your clit.

You were beyond embarrassed, having no way to cover your moans. You still tried to suppress the sounds, biting your bottom lip as you threw your head back.

Jing Yuan was having none of that, though. After being with you for so long he knew you had a habit of shying away from making noises.

Making noises for him.

He gripped one thigh harder in warning only to feel your pussy clench around his thick fingers at 

that.

A warning. 

Your climax was building up rapidly, your ability to soften your moans reducing as you unabashedly whimpered out Jing Yuan's name.

“I'm about to—” 

and suddenly, it's like Jing Yuan never existed between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

…Fuck.

Your body heaved as your ruined climax started simmering down.

“Jing Yuan!” 

“Yes, dear?” 

His sing-song voice came out above you, he was still seated on the bed, right beside your spread legs. The only difference? He had taken away all the stimulation right before you came.

You panicked for a second, thinking you lost the ring and opened up your palms a little to see if it was still there.

Yep, still there.

Jing Yuan laughed, moving to place a kiss on your head as you pouted at him.

“Such an obedient little thing, aren't you?”

“The ring is still there, why did you—”

Jing Yuan gave you a smug smile this time.

Oh dear.

“The winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.”

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule V

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: tysm for all your support! Our Agustd is now…showing.

Masterlist, Latibule IV

“What the fuck is that?”

You turned around to glare at the man with a confused look. Suga was looking down, observing what he called ‘that’ with his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted. He could not have looked any more disgusted and confused than he did at the very moment.

You briskly walked to him, flashing him a tight smile before pulling his arm so he could follow you, however reluctantly. You stopped dragging him when the two of you reached the kitchen. You looked up at him while he was busy looking down at your hand that was trying so hard to encircle his thick wrist with a look of a somewhat confusion. Suga couldn’t, for the life of him, answer why he felt something he didn’t want to name. And now, you were too aware of the feel of his skin, of how thick his wrist was, and of how the heat emitting from his skin felt good. You were much too aware of him.

And upon realization, you dropped his wrist carelessly as though it burned you. “That-“ you pointed your finger to the living room while glaring daggers at him. “-is a child.”

He frowned, his dark locks falling on his face as he look down at you. “Fine. Why the fuck is a child here, angel?”

You sighed in exasperation, explaining to him as patiently as you could that his father asked you to look out for his child because he had to travel for work, to which he rolled his eyes dramatically.

See, this was why you thought he was similar to a cat. He hated people, he hated morning, and he hated being hungry.

Was it morning? Check.

Was there another person in your house today? Check.

Had he not eaten yet? Check.

“That’s free childcare, angel! You should charge for it!”

“He’s my friend!”

“And?”

“And this is a favor! Have you not heard of that? Are you not familiar with the concept?”

Oh, he knew favor. He knew a lot of people owed him one and he was going to collect all of them soon.

“Do you hate children? Is that it?” You asked again when he failed to answer you, stepping closer to him to annoy him further. You didn’t know why you found it so entertaining to see him lost his cool, or how his face scrunched up when he was annoyed. But he stood his ground. He looked down at you, his lips tilted to the side as he focused his dark eyes on you.

“No. I hate people in general.” But he didn’t hate you. He wasn’t put off by your existence. He wasn’t happy when you were away for too long. But these were the things he would never admit to himself.

Nope.

“Well, he’s staying here until tomorrow. Be kind! Or else!”

He had the audacity to look affronted as though he wouldn’t do the exact opposite of what you asked of him. Right now would be the prime example.

“Who are you?” Suga asked him once the two of you returned to the living room where the child was happily watching cartoons. He was looking at the child as though be was dangerous when

“I’m Jackson,” he answered back, his little arms folded on his front as he looked up at the man questioning him with an equally defiant glare. “Who are you?”

Suga turned to you, his eyes in disbelief at what he heard. “He named his child his name?”

You blinked twice, unable to even defend your friend. But you didn’t have to. His child got his sassiness, after all.

“Your name please, ahjussi,” he repeated as he tapped his foot on the ground in obvious irritation at the older man. This was the first time he saw Suga and he automatically hated him. You were his favorite aunt, albeit you were the only aunt he had. But still! He thought you were too beautiful for the man you called your fiancé. He thought he didn’t deserve you.

“Ajhussi?” He repeated in disbelief as he squinted his eyes at the child. “I’m…Suga.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“Yah! What kind of name is Jackson?! Can’t your father think of another name? Is he that-“

You could feel a headache coming as you listened to them bicker. “Guys-“

“My friends said I have a nice name!”

“Yeah? Well, they’re lying to you!”

“At least I have friends! You look like you have enemies!”

Well, he wasn’t wrong though, Suga thought as he paused. He’d give this round to the kid. But he would return with a vengeance.

“Noona,” the young Jackson turned to look at you with his puppy eyes and an adorable pout on his lips that you couldn’t help but cooed at him and opened your arms so he could hug you.

He wrapped his little arms around your middle before whining at you. “Are you sure that man is who you want to be with? There are better guys out there, noona,” he said as he turned his head to glare at the other man.

“Yah!”

To which, he just stuck his tongue out.

“Angel, why is he still here? Can’t his mother take care of him?! Or did his mother also find him insufferable?”

“Suga!” You reprimanded him as you felt the child’s small body shook with impending tears. You glared at the man before hugging the now wailing child. For heaven’s sake, did he really have to fight with a child?! “Are you a child?! You should know better!”

“What?! He started it!”

“His mother…passed away,” you whispered the last part, feeling sorry for the child who never knew his mother. You thought that this was why he was somehow too attached with you. You were the only female figure in his life because his father refused to date anyone. He had said one night when you asked him why he never dated despite it being years already and he only said that he found the one. That his wife was it, that anyone would only fail in comparison to her.

You thought it was sad to have found your soulmate, only for her to be taken from your grasp forever, to be only left with memories that would fade in time, to be the only one whose love had no where else to go.

Suga’s eyes widened in realization, his gaze on you as what you said sunk in. He always knew he was an asshole, an abomination of a greedy man. He knew he was all that was wrong in mankind, but God, seeing that child cried his heart out displaced him. It felt…wrong. Was he developing a fucking conscience? Was this safe place making him soft?

Were you making him a better man?

He turned his dark eyes on the weeping child before he stood up. He clapped the child’s shoulder, “If you stop crying, I’ll buy you an ice cream.”

You watched the two in front of you devoured their ice cream like it was the end of the world. After fighting like vicious animals, they were sitting in front of you quietly as though they never said hurtful things to one another. You didn’t know that Suga even know this place. You thought that he must probably roamed around the town while you were at work and must have familiarized himself with the town. When he said that he knew a place, this was the last place you thought. This was the most colorful place in the whole town and it was also the loudest with pop songs playing on the speaker and children running all over the place. He was too in contrast with the aesthetic of the place with his all-black clothes and the emotionless face he was showing to the world.

You looked up to watch them again when you caught him already looking intently at you- or more specifically, your ice cream. “What?”

You ordered what you considered the normal flavor, chocolate and cookies and cream which were your favorite, while they ordered fruit-flavored ice cream. Suga thought it was peculiar that you didn’t eat fruits and you said he was weirder for fighting with a kid, to which he had no comeback for.

“I want your ice cream,” he announced as though it was his birth right to receive everything he ever desired.

“Suga- we talked about this.”

“About what?” He asked absentmindedly as he reached his spoon to your side when you slapped his hand away.

“What’s the magic word?”

He glared at you, his jaw clenched uncaring if he was bringing the vibe of the place down, or that he looked like an angry kitten.

“It’s ‘please’, ahjussi,” Jackson quipped up, looking up at the man sitting beside him with doe eyes. “Did you not know that?”

“Yes, Suga, did you not know that?” You asked him with faux confusion, batting your eyelashes at him annoyingly.

“May I please have your ice cream?”

“Of course, honey.”

You couldn’t help but smiled triumphantly at him before scooping your ice cream and lifting it to him. He glared at you before holding your hand closer to his lips before opening his mouth devouring the ice cream, all while holding eye contact with you.

And fuck it if you weren’t entranced with the way his lips seemed so pink…or the way his dark eyes seemed to hold so much hunger that you felt your cheeks heated up. You tried to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let go.

“Delicious, angel,” he said lowly before flashing you a smirk and placing your hand down gently on the table. “I’ll go pay the bill.”

You blinked owlishly, shaking the haze from your mind. “What? You don’t have money. Let me pay-“

He regarded you with bored eyes before lifting his eyebrow, “You told me to get a job, right?”

You were still reeling from the added information as he already walked to the counter. He got a job? When? Also, who would hire someone as socially inadequate as he was?

Jackson grinned widely as he spotted his best friend from across the diner. The other child was waving at him excitedly. He turned to you, jumping from his seat with an elated expression on his face. “Noona! May I say hi to my friend?”

“Of course, honey. Just be careful and don’t run.”

You watched him walked to the other side and you only lost sight of him for a moment when you watched Suga smiled with the old lady working in the diner. He looked like he was familiar with her. Your brows furrowed. How would he, an anti-social, always irritated, mannerless man, know her? Unless…did he work here?

Your thoughts were cut off when you heard an aggressive shouting from behind you.

“Watch where you’re going, little boy!” The man hissed down at Jackson who accidentally bumped into him. He looked like he was about to cry as the man continually berated him that you snapped up to your seat and walked to them. You placed your hands around the little boy’s shoulders, hugging him closer to you as shield from the screaming man.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

He turned his sinister eyes on you, “Are you her mother? You let your son run around like that? What kind of mother are you?!”

“He was not running. I know because I saw. And what about you?! You’re a grown man who shouted at a child over a harmless mistake!”

He sneered at you, his beady eyes roaming on your form. He chuckled tonelessly, before walking closer to you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” he whispered before pushing your shoulder hard with his index finger, making you step back from the force. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I care?”

“I can ruin you and your family-“

He was about to hit you again when a someone caught his finger in his fist. Suga stepped in, his eyes devoid of any emotion, his jaw clenched as he walked closer to the man.

“I’d think twice about doing that,” he ordered coldly, stepping closer to him that the two of you were now hidden behind his back.

And it was as though he noticed a predator more dangerous than him because he did nothing but gulped as he struggled to look into Suga’s eyes. Suga whispered something inaudible to the man before smirking at him and dropping his hold on him. You felt him wrapped his arm around you as he guided you out of the diner and out of reach of the customers’ curious eyes.

The silence was overbearing, so unalike the one you were used to with him, the one where you could break it with your sassiness and teasing ways to him. No. This time, he looked like a different person. He still hadn’t released his hold on you and you could feel the tension emitting from his hand. You were almost to the park, the one you’d promised the little boy you could go to after the diner, when he paused his tracks.

You turned to look at him- only to find him already staring at you with a swirling darkness in his eyes. He let go of you, his hand that had just touched you was clenching.

“You go ahead, angel. I left my wallet in there,” he stated after a moment, his hands now in his pockets before turning around and walking back.

—-

“I told you I’d be back.”

The man’s eyes widened when he noticed Suga casually leaning against the wall of the narrow and quiet walkway. Had he not said a word, he would have walked passed the man who emitted an insane and menacing vibe. His dark hair was falling on his face, his scarred eye leering up at him as though he was elated to finally find a prey in this quiet and sleepy town.

“I-I don’t want any trouble, man-“

“Tsk tsk,” he pushed himself off of the wall before sauntering to the man. He looked relax as though nothing could phased him…as though he wasn’t about to do a crime. “It’s too late for that…man.”

The man whimpered as he was slammed to the wall, his body falling weakly to the ground. He couldn’t hold his own weight, no, not against Suga. His huge body was likened to a rag doll as the man he thought was the devil incarnate landed blow after blow on his body. And he did so without any emotions in his eyes.

“You listen here and you listen good, asshole,” Suga said in a toneless voice, his eyes holding a barely constrained anger. He stepped closer, uncaring that he was crushing the fingers of the man that dared touched her..or that the sound of bones crunching made the man whimpered louder. He crouched down, his hand hanging on his knees nonchalantly. “You fucked up,” he whispered as he took in the disheveled state of the crying man. Softly, he touched the other man’s fingers. He smirked when he heard him cried louder.

“You didn’t only scare the child, but you touched a woman. My woman,” he stated as though he was merely discussing the weather.

“W-what? W-who are you? Are you her husband?” He asked as tears fell down from his eyes.

“Yes.”

Latibule VI