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daemour · 3 months

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I Can See You

Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn

Word Count: 10,137

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences

Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.

Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay

thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa, we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long

“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”

“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”

When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.

“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.

Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.

He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”

Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”

You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.

“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”

You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”

“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.

Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”

Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.

“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”

You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”

A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”

The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"

The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."

Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"

Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.

"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."

Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.

Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"

Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.

"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.

"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."

You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”

"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."

"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"

Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"

Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."

Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.

“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”

With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”

You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”

Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”

You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”

Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”

You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”

Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.

A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.

As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.

You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.

Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.

But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.

“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”

Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.

You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.

You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.

Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”

It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”

You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”

You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.

“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”

You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”

You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”

“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”

Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.

“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”

Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”

“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”

“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.

“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”

With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.

“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”

Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”

Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.

“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”

Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”

Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”

You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.

“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”

A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”

Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.

“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”

Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”

You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”

Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.

“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”

You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.

“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”

You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”

Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”

“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.

“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”

You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”

Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”

The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.

“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.

“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”

Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.

You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”

He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.

“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”

You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”

As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”

You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.

These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.

Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.

Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.

You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.

With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.

At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.

“Is that me?”

A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.

“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”

After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”

You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”

One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”

You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.

But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.

“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”

Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.

You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”

“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.

Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.

But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”

Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”

You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.

“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”

It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.

And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.

These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.

It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.

That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.

As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.

As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.

Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.

But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.

Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.

“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.

“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”

Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”

You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”

“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”

“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”

The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.

“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”

The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.

Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”

Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”

He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”

He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”

He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”

He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”

As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.

It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.

But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.

“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.

“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.”

Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.

As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.

He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—

Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.

When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.

You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.

“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”

A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.

“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.

“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.

“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”

You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”

You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”

“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”

Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”

As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.

With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.

After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”

Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”

You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”

Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”

His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”

Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”

“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.

“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”

You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”

As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.

His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”

An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.

“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.

He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”

“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.

With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.

“Seonghwa–” you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.

“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.

“Then don’t.”

Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.

“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”

You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”

Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.

You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.

“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.

The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”

You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.

As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.

And he still hasn’t come.

“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.

His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.

You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”

Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.

You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?”

Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.

His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.

“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.

“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.

“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.

“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”

You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”

With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.

#kvanity #pirateeznet #wkcnet #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #seonghwa angst

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after-witch · 2 months

Text

Too Darn Hot [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Title: Too Darn Hot [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Synopsis: It’s just too hot to deal with Dabi right now.

Word count: 3048

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, past mentions of bondage and abusive behavior

You didn’t think it was possible for a person to sweat this much, yet here you are: sprawled out on the worn mattress, tangled in freezer-cooled sheets that warm all too quickly underneath you; drenching your skin and the sheets and the mattress and probably the damn coils inside it with your sweat.

It’s. Too. Damn. Hot.

Nothing helps. Or at least, nothing helps long enough to be actually soothing. The freezer chills the sheets--and your clothes--but the effect is gone within minutes. Sitting in front of the rickety fan, when it chooses to work, only results in hot air being blown in your face. Even the breezes from the open window offer no cooling relief--only warm air wafting through the sweltering apartment.

Ice melts in your mouth too fast, but there’s only two trays.

Dabi said he’d get more one morning, then came back that afternoon shrugging his shoulders. They’re sold out everywhere, what with the heat wave and all.

Even the popsicles are all sold out. There’s half a box left in the freezer, and you ration them out carefully. But you can’t really savor them--they melt too fast, sticky juice getting all over your hands, if you don’t eat them right away.

It’s been days--days--with no relief in sight.

Yet you could maybe deal with the heat wave, could wait it out because surely it will eventually break, if it wasn’t for one wrench in the works: Dabi himself.

Ever since the temperatures climbed and you found yourself begging for the slightest bit of coolness against the brutal heat, you’ve refused to let Dabi near you.

He’s not allowed to lay in bed with you. He’s not allowed to hold you or kiss you. He’s not allowed to touch you. Sometimes you even yell at him for looking at you, as if his personal heat might radiate from his gaze over to your sweaty, sticky skin.

He’s too hot, and the world is too hot, and if you combine the two of them--you’re not sure that you’ll survive it.

So you say no.

No, no, no.

He calls you “disagreeable.” You call him an overheated asshole. He doesn’t punish you but you think it’s only because of the pitiful way you groan and wipe down your sweaty neck with a towel and fruitlessly fan yourself with a newspaper-page-turned-paper-fan.

It’s too hot to argue.

Technically speaking, you[d stopped being broadly disagreeable, as Dabi called it when you refused to let him do whatever he wanted to you, ages ago. There is only so much that you can take, really, before it stops becoming worth the emotional turmoil to fight back. Retaining a shred of dignity in your refusal to play along with his obsession wasn’t worth the screaming matches, the threats, the clink of a heavy chain around your ankle.

So you gave up. Life became easier. Less stressful, at least, on the outside. Sure, there was usually a pit of stress in your stomach because of the whole “being held captive by a villain” thing. But at least you weren’t shouting at each other every day. At least you could get up to go to the bathroom whenever you wanted. At least he listened to your preferences, brought you your favorite takeout, snuck back into your apartment to steal a few personal effects.

Your favorite stuffed animal from childhood currently rests on top of a dresser, watching you groan about the heat with impassive black eyes.

Letting go of your fight against Dabi gave you another gift, and perhaps a more surprising one: insight. Dabi was a villain, yes. He killed people and he’d kill more in the future, you were sure. He could be cold and callous and cruel.

But he was also so damn lonely. You think that’s why he took you, that loneliness. It’s like a giant weight draped over him, abated only when he’s got someone else to hold. Someone like you. Someone he can sleep with, and kiss, someone he can whisper to in the dead of night when he thinks you’re sleeping.

He’s--clingy. Who would have thought you’d use the word “clingy” to describe a notorious villain? If you’d told yourself this fact a year ago, you would have laughed and shaken your head pitifully.

Now, though… now.

Dabi outside these walls, away from you, is someone else. The news reports on TV occasionally report his victims, burnt corpses that left behind broken families and friendships. That Dabi is a cruel killer who has no remorse for what he’s done, who would surely look down at his begging victims and kill them without a second thought.

But then he walks through the threshold of the apartment and hangs up the ghost of burning flames and ruined corpses like other men hang up their coats after work.

Honey, I’m home.

Not that you’re some kind of ideal house spouse waiting for him with an apron and a cooking spoon.

He doesn’t expect you to cook, actually, although the ability to do so was granted after you’d been “well behaved” long enough. Knives are only available under his supervision, of course.

But takeout is the norm for both of you. Mostly your favorite spots, when he’s feeling generous. On occasion he’ll cook a thing or two, like eggs for breakfast. Sunny side up with toast for dipping.

He doesn’t expect you to clean, either, but you do anyway. It keeps your mind occupied, which in turn keeps you from losing it. Who wants to live in a pigsty, anyway? And you think he likes it when you clean, although he won’t admit it. He’s always a little softer when he comes home to find that you’ve folded his clothes or made the bed all nice and tidy.

He does have expectations for you, though. You’d be foolish not to know that.

He does expect you, above all, to let him touch you. Hold you. Kiss you. Fuck you. And do it all without complaints and irritated squirming and pleas to be let go, to go home, for him to just leave you alone.

But right now?

It’s just too fucking hot. The thought of his warmth, comforting during the cold winter seasons, makes you want to throw up.

He’d looked at you like you were crazy, the first night you told him that he had to sleep on the couch or the floor but he certainly wasn’t sleeping in the bed with you. You’d held up your hand and said, plain as day, that if he didn’t sleep on the couch then you would.

That was days ago, but there’s no end in sight for this unrelenting heat. You’ve hardly even eaten. The cold noodles Dabi brought home tonight were a welcome relief from the usual warm dinners, but the heat made your stomach cramp and you couldn’t eat much of them.

“Hey.”

You jolt up from the bed, now-warm sheets in your arms. You didn’t even realize Dabi had come home. Was it possible to lose your hearing from too much heat? Maybe you were getting delirious. More than likely, you were too wrapped up in your own sweaty self-pity to hear him come in.

“Hey,” you sigh out, turning the sheets over in your arms, searching for one vaguely cool spot left in the fabric. No such luck.

Dabi drops a bag of takeout on top of the dresser and you huff petulantly from your spot on the bed.

“Don’t put it there. You’ll get stains on Mr. Snuggles.”

You can practically hear Dabi’s face scrunch up without even asking him to face you to see if it’s true. He has his tells. Mostly in his voice, in the way it’s tired and strained. “Well, if Mr. Snuggles doesn’t want food stains on him, he can stay away from where I normally put our food before dinner.”

You flop an arm over your forehead, willing it to be cool--it’s not. “You should put food on a counter, not a dresser. Dressers are for clothes and… trinkets. Or something.” There’s barely any energy in your voice. It’s too hot to put in effort, even the effort required to be annoyed.

“Do you have to complain about everything this week?” Goosebumps creep along your arm despite the heat. You recognize the irritated tone. And you should back off. Really.

Instead, you sit up properly on the bed and frown at him.

“I wouldn’t be complaining about everything if it wasn’t so hot.”

Dabi turns to face you, and you really ought to stop talking. But sweat beads along the back of your neck and the fabric of your shirt is damp, and it’s too hot to stop now. Fuck it.

Even simply standing there, it’s like he’s radiating heat that only makes the bedroom even more stifling. And he either knows it and doesn’t care, or doesn’t know it which might be worse. Ignorance, you’ve decided, can be so much worse than knowledge.

Regardless of his personal acquaintance with the heat of his body, he walks right over to the bed and sits down next to you. As if you haven’t been telling him to back off all week. As if you weren’t worried that his heat would transfer right down into the mattress and make it impossible to sleep on for days.

It takes all of your self-discipline to avoid bolting off the bed entirely to avoid him.

“You have the fan. There’s ice in the freezer. We just gotta ride this heat wave out, okay? It can’t be much longer.” And oh, the coo in his voice. The soft tone. The sweetness.

He’s trying to sound sympathetic towards you and it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

How can he suggest just “riding the heat wave out” when you’re the one sweating buckets every day, finding it impossible to get comfortable, unable to do anything but lay in bed and pray it stops being unbearable? It’s easy for him to say--ride it out. He’s used to the heat. He lives in it every day.

“C’mon,” he tells you. “Let’s just relax in bed for a minute, eat some dinner, and we can sit on the balcony for a bit once the sun goes down. It’ll be nicer out there, I think.”

The thought of sitting outside should be a tempting one, but you’re too focused on your present discomfort. On the way it seems like it’s gotten a few degrees hotter in the last few moments since he sat down. Couldn’t he just leave you alone?

If his audacious sympathy weren’t bad enough, it’s what comes next that stuns you into bleary, heat-derived action. He actually reaches for you. Sure. It’s a gesture he’s done a million times before. But now, with the heat, with the sweat, he might as well be slapping you in the face.

His arm just makes it around your shoulder, pulling you close in a way that you recognize as a precursor to a cuddling session, before you shove him away.

“Get away from me!”

There’s a flash of hurt on his face before he smooths it to something like calm and collected irritation.

“What,” he says, fingers twitching, “is your problem lately?”

“My problem…” You grit out the words. “is that it’s too hot. And maybe I wouldn’t be complaining about it being hot if you weren’t always hovering around me, making it worse than it needs to be because you’re too warm to be around and--”

Dabi grabs your upper arm. Not hard. Not cruelly. It doesn’t hurt, no, no, no. But it does bring back memories--memories of screaming matches and kicking and fighting; memories of you trying to bite him while he held you and getting chained tightly to the bed for your troubles.

Memories of when you hadn’t figured out that accepting your situation made your chest stop hurting, gave you the ability to sleep more easily, and made you able to find small happinesses in your current existence.

It was an awful time, then. Even more awful than the misery of the current heat wave.

Your muscles go limp, and your chest feels like it seizes up all of your breath.

I’m sorry, you think. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Or maybe you say it out loud. You can’t tell with the adrenaline pumping through you, making you forget the heat--though you’re in no position to enjoy any relief from it.

His muscles go limp, too, and he lets you go almost as swiftly as he grabbed you.

“Sorry,” he says, mumbling, quick. “Shit, Sorry. Didn’t mean to…” He stands up and steps away, scratches at his hair. Paces towards the open window, the rickety fan that’s sputtering in the corner. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t stay. He mumbles something about having to run out, tells you to eat your dinner, and says he’ll be back later tonight. Go to bed without him.

That, at least, is something you have no problem doing.

Maybe, with everything going on, dinner should be tasteless to you. But it’s your favorite dish and you can’t help but enjoy the flavors in between sips of chilled water.

Before bed, you tuck the leftovers into the fridge. Part of you wants to leave them to spoil so Dabi can’t enjoy them, but… he did go to one of your favorite spots again, didn’t he? And got your favorite dish?

There’s a pang of something like pity at the thought of him being hungry, at the imagined flash of his hurt face if he saw that you left his food out. Must be the heat scrambling your brains, you decide.

Soon after, you fall asleep fitfully, dreaming about fire and chains and takeout containers.

You wake up to a roaring engine that startles you out of sleep as readily as a slap to the face.

It’s a truck or a motor or a plane flying above--whatever it is, it’s loud, and close, and your heart starts to beat a mile a minute.

That’s when you feel it--something cool and delightful. Was the fan working? Was the heatwave over, and it was dragging in a blissful night breeze?

You blink away sleep and sit up in bed and are greeted to the sight of Dabi slapping the top of a window air conditioner which, even in the dim moonlight, had clearly seen better days.

It doesn’t matter, though. Because it works. It’s cool. No, no. It’s cold.

All thoughts drain out of your brain and you leap out of bed and slide in front of it on your knees, knees skidding against the hardwood floor.

“Oh,” you say, a long, languid sound. It’s bliss. True bliss. Your eyes close of their own accord and you lean your head back to let the cool blasting air hit your sweaty neck; you begin flapping at your night clothes, and the dampness of your warm sweat is sweetly relieved from the forced breeze.

“Almost didn’t think it would work.” You open your eyes. You had almost forgotten about Dabi, who is currently screwing something shut on the windowsill. To keep it from falling, you think. “Found it… in a dumpster.”

You expect it was probably found in someone else’s window. All you can hope is that they’re alive. But you don’t even dwell on that concern for long, because for the first time in what feels like an eternity, you’re cool. Comfortable. No longer sweaty and feeling heavy, hot, and worn down.

It’s so relieving that you might just start crying.

Dabi slinks down on the floor next to you, crossing one leg and pulling his knee up so he can prop one elbow on it.

He stares at you for a few long moments, and you look back with none of the heat-induced venom from earlier. Instead, you press your lips thin, and smile a little.

Slowly, he leans in, scooting on the floor to get closer to you. You let him. He reaches over and puts one arm around your shoulder, pulls you towards him. And you let him do this, too.

The warmth of his body is no longer agonizing. It’s even a bit welcome as a contrast against the cold blast from the AC just a few feet in front of you. It’s… pleasant. Like climbing under a warm blanket on a cool winter’s night.

Only the blanket is Dabi, and it’s the middle of summer, and despite it all, you put Dabi’s leftovers safely in the fridge before you went to bed and he went out and found you an air conditioner so you weren’t miserable.

Nothing is said or done at first. After a few more moments, you lean your head against his shoulder. It’s a slow move, but one you do willingly. Or as willingly as you do anything, now.

”Thanks, Dabi.”

He hums, but says nothing more about it. His hand drops from your shoulder to your waist, keeping you close. It’s the first time he’s been able to properly hold you since the heat wave started, and maybe that’s why neither of you want to say anything for a while.

“Do you…” You begin, turning your head to look at him. His face is partially lit by the blue light of the air conditioner panel. “Want to get on the bed?”

He glances at you, keeps his gaze trained on yours. There’s a little smile in his expression. Relief is in it, yes, and something else too. Regret? Affection? A sad little mixture of both?

“Not yet.” He leans his head against yours. His hair tickles your cheek. “We can sit here until you’re tired. I’ll carry you to bed, if you fall asleep.”

You wonder how long it will take for your eyes to begin to droop again; for your brain to start getting fuzzy and silly, pulling you halfway into dreams. Will you wake up when Dabi carries you, or will you find yourself startled in the morning when you’re tangled in the bedsheets and Dabi’s arm is locked around your waist?

“Sure,” you tell him. “I don’t mind.”

At least you won’t dream about fire anymore. At least, not the kind of fire spawned by oppressive heatwaves.

#yandere dabi #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #yandere #afterwitch writes

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shadesoflsk · 3 months

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MILLION DOLLAR BLOODLINE — Adam & Eve

A political candidate has been found dead and a well known agent is working alongside you. Check my million dollar bloodline masterlist for general warnings.

Chapter 1

pairing: Vampire/Agent Leon x Fem Detective reader

warnings: Rivals to lovers (Kinda one sided at first because reader doesn't get along with men) misogyny, sexism (from the press) gore, violence, death, suicide, blood, mentions of kidnapping and experimentations, fucked up government.

author's note: Hi! So, this took me longer than I expected lol. I had to delete and redo so many parts but at last I'm comfortable with the result. This is basically an introduction to both characters hence the name I gave to this chapter. I hope you guys like it.

Blinded by the constant flashes of cameras, numerous police officers make their way out of the tumultuousness of journalists and reporters who have gathered —in the name of informing— to be the first ones to publish headlines that will surely raise more commotion in the already horror-stuck citizens.

Thank God the scene of the crime is away from those prying eyes that won’t hesitate to snap a picture or two just for the sake of popularity or being contacted by those trashy and shitty newspapers that fall into the sensationalism homicides and crimes attract.

The eighties are certainly… one of a hell decade to live in. Exuberant neon lights and flashy outfits weren’t enough to silence the crimes that were occurring each day in a city led by white-collared dicks who are ‘better than anyone else.’ The citizens’ words, not yours.

It was easy to despise everyone right now. From those politicians who share their condolences but deep down they have the same fucked up ideal and sentiment—they were happy their enemies keep dying. To the obtuse and short-sighted journalists who kept asking the same questions.

Not even your disdain and witty answers could push them away to the hell hole they came from. Catchy and well-sold tabloids were their objectives and you were the perfect subject to them. A woman in the eighties being the leader of a politic-related case? Oh God, the newspaper loves dragging down women.

Misogynistic terms were chanted even more than the national damn anthem. “God, spare us from a woman leading this case!” “Is this a new gold digger searching for a politician that isn’t dead?” Those were the most ‘tame’ titles they could come up with. However, rumor has it that directors and journalists love calling you names. Ultimately, those whispers die down as soon as the window from your Porsche 959 rolls down and the flashes of cameras turn your way.

“Ma’am we received news that the body you found was in fact, Mr. Clark. Our Major Candidate. Is there any clue this time?” The young journalist asked you. He was definitely a rookie, that ma’am that fell so easily from his lips, and his stance gave it away. Maybe you could be softer with him, aggressiveness was starting to wear you off.

You take out your sunglasses, the snaps of the pictures get harder to bear but for once, you try holding eye contact with this said journalist. In his gaze, you admire his inexperience and eagerness to get something out of this conversation.

Sadly, there’s nothing to offer from a lifeless body and a pool of blood that could flood the entire apartment of the deceased.

“It’s still unknown. We shall wait for the forensic team to provide us with the results of the autopsy.” Your voice is uninterested, an automatic reaction each time a question is asked.

“So… The police department is once again showing signs of inability to complete a case?”

Fuck them all. All of them.

A few hours ago, you had received a call which informed you about the disappearance of a candidate, a major candidate. Of course, a crime would occur when the elections were just around the corner. A perfect scenario to bring the already most famous and glamorized case in the decade more mystery and gore.

A disappearance meant a homicide, it would take just minutes before you were notified that a body had been found.

And you were right.

Eventually, a coworker of yours informed you—with an annoyed expression on their face— that a drained body was found in an apartment.

Working on two cases simultaneously was definitely tiring, and it was starting to show on your face. On one hand, multiple crimes are occurring in Raccoon City, all of them involving people from high society: CEOs, ex-presidents, and candidates. Idle good-for-nothing people who can wipe their asses with a one hundred dollar bill, to put it simply.

Difficult to deal with was an understatement. Everyone at the police station knew one thing though— someone important is leaking information. This said individual doesn’t want to get their hands dirty with blood. Acting like a vendetta, in the darkness, they are cleaning the government in a way.

However, the catch of this case was rather sui generis—not even decipherable. Corruption was the root of all problems and it even showed in various scenes of the crime. Politicians were found dead in certain ways that didn’t match up with their own lifestyles. Suicides, disappearances, homicides without a murder weapon. Someone important must be behind all of this and those victims were merely their pawns.

And on the other hand, a case that seems to get more sinister and fucked up was brimming in the shadows. One that also involved those who justice can’t reach. Besides politicians disappearing, numerous citizens were also missing without a trace. Families were left alone without their breadwinning fathers, without their nurturing mothers, and especially without their loved ones.

The government’s reputation was unmistakable, they didn’t care. Protests were organized without any response or reassurance that a solution would be provided. And then again, the damnation and torment of those who searched through hell and earth was once again brought to them.

Without further ado, you walked out of the police department and embarked on the fantastic journey of seeing another dead body. Not the best sight to see after having your lunch but if you don't go, no one else will.

You arrived at the scene of the crime and luckily, you didn’t run into any reporters, word hadn’t reached them yet. You showed your ID to the cops that surround the apartment complex, they let you in.

The excruciating silence as you wait in the elevator was always agonizing. It allowed your mind to create the most gut wrenching scenarios. You’re a veteran at this point, you have seen 10 dead politicians over the course of the months. However, it doesn’t get any easier.

The first thing that welcomed you as the door of the elevators opened again was the metallic smell of blood. With a deep breath, you fixed your hair and expected the worst.

“Good morning everyone.” Your voice rang through the living room of the apartment. There was no trace of violence or self defense, but the rancid reek continued filling your nostrils. Nonetheless, the authority in your voice never faltered, you simply didn’t allow it.

Acting tough was the norm and giving no shit about anyone was the rule that followed. It’s always been like that. You can’t crack jokes or show a smile just like your male superiors can. Bullshit, you thought. People love saying that the 80s are the best, but everyone is fucking misogynistic.

When you saw that your team had your attention, you proceeded. “Where’s the body?”

“Inside.” A cop said. He was a veteran, the wrinkles forming around his eyes and the one-word phrase told you as much. “There’s a federal agent there, though.”

A federal agent?

It was a matter of time before the government decided to send one of its people. They should have after the first one. But as you already know, they’re scavengers, they don’t give a damn about the country nor themselves. If the death of a candidate could bring more votes to another party, they would close their eyes for the sake of it.

“Anything I may know before going inside?” You ask.

“Nothing much. The state of the body is the same as the ones we have found before.” The dull and repetitive tone of his voice was proof of how everyone was getting frustrated with this case. “Although this one really looks like a suicide.”

Interesting, a politician who actually killed himself instead of being killed.

“Thank you.” Your legs worked on their own and strode off to where the body was. The main bedroom. For a moment, you hesitated to turn the knob around. Your eyes were fixated on your red nails —the same color you’re expected to see once you enter the room.

And you were right, your gaze which was now looking at the floor only witnessed the ruby red color that painted the rug. And, as your eyes traveled, you observed the man who was lying lifeless on the floor.

Your eyes then stopped when you noticed the man who had his back facing you. 5'10 inches with dirty blond hair, black leather jacket that hugged his figure just right. Undoubtedly, the build of an agent yet you couldn’t care less about his appearance right now.

Clearing your throat, you made your presence known. Even though a part of you believed that this man must have heard you as soon as you entered the scene of the crime.

He turned around and you could see the solemn expression that soon turned into a polite smile. So, the blue-eyed male that was in front of you was the federal agent the government has sent? Interesting.

“Hello. You may be the leading detective of this case, right?” There is no accent in his voice nor a belittling hint in his speech. You were used to being questioned about your position or straight up told not to waste time before you could even identify yourself.

“Indeed.” You nodded before stepping closer and showing him your badge which had your name and occupation there. There’s a moment of silence before Leon speaks again, with a faint smile on his lips.

“Kennedy. Leon Kennedy.” He stated his name, a muffled chuckle leaving after his phrase.

At first, you remained expressionless, not expecting this stoic ‘professional’ to introduce himself in a rather comical way. Not when there’s a dead body lying at his feet.

“What are you? James Bond?” You were genuinely dumbfounded.

“Do I look the part?” He had a hand on his hip, casually standing in front of you. If audacity and lack of decorum had a name, it would have Leon written at the top of a dictionary. “I'd call myself hilarious, though.”

“Kinda goofy, I'd say.” You retorted, walking past him and looking through your pockets to pull out a pair of gloves, the sound of latex being stretched followed your answer. This part was always the hardest, even when the body has been already inspected by the team of criminalists, you ought to re-check.

“Let's keep it at funny.” His eyes darted to where your figure was, the scent of your perfume couldn’t override the constant smell of blood but he could sense the faint aroma of coconut and vanilla.

"So... the government sent you?" You adjusted your gloves as your eyes locked on Leon's. His blue eyes were piercing yet they weren't threatening.

"Yup." Leon crossed his arms as he continued watching you. "Kinda late, I'd say. Mr Clark was... the eighth victim?"

"The eleventh." You corrected him.

"Damn, they keep falling like dominoes."

You crouch down to inspect the body, there’s nothing visibly new compared to the other subjects of the crime. Lifeless eyes, and a nasty open wound on his forehead which resembled a shot. But other than that? Nothing much.

“Agent Kennedy, I don't think you're being professional.” You absentmindedly trailed off as you checked the candidate’s finger, paying close attention to his nails. Just in case this wasn’t a suicide case and there was DNA left in the victim’s nails.

“You're right.” He shrugged off as he sighed. He had done his part of the job before you arrived, so his presence was no longer required there. However, he stayed. “But then again, do you truly care for that asshole?”

Your ears perked at Leon’s sudden question. Sure, your disdain for politicians wasn’t exactly a secret. Everyone at the station knew about your hatred for the rich. But needless to say, you weren’t expecting the government’s boy to speak in such a manner.

Nor did you anticipate that he knew about you.

“Careful. Aren’t you supposed to be an agent?” Your demeanor slightly shifted into a more serious one. One that warned him he shouldn’t stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. And while you were a rightful civilian who actually wanted to restore peace in the city. If this rumor reached the newspaper, it would be the end for you.

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m fond of them.” And Leon wasn’t dumb, not at all. He caught the meaning behind those simple yet blunt words. “Or are you going to tell me you like working for your boss?”

“I’m the boss here.” Your expression quickly turned sour as Leon expressed his own opinions. You just noticed the tick of a clock, a persistent noise that only served to highlight the already growing tension.

See, you weren’t a bland person, far from that. You appreciate jokes and even engage in light-hearted teasing with your friends. Not with colleagues.

But at that moment, antics and pranks weren’t something you easily accepted. Living to be compared to men who were incapable next to you built walls that made it impossible to reach your core, to your true self.

“See? Maybe your subordinates don’t like you.”

“You should learn when to stop biting, Mr Kennedy.”

Leon just laughed and shook his head. His eyes stopped being focused on yours and decided to gaze through the large window the room had. The perfect view of the city was in front of him, a perfectly corrupted place.

A welcoming silence—after their awkward banter— set in. You took this opportunity to ask for more information related to the dead candidate. As you let go of his hand, you got up and took off your gloves.

“So… Agent, any background information the now deceased may have?”

“Besides the obvious? Not really.” A sigh slipped from the blue-eyed man. “He had a beautiful wife and beautiful kids. The white picket fence kind of life.”

“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had.” You said.

“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had, indeed.” Leon replies in tandem.

He shook his head, letting out a sigh you didn’t know he was holding. A headache was already brewing and you simply massaged your temples. The sensation of running in circles was once again setting and penetrating your mindset—there’s no clue to even pinpoint the cause of so many crimes.

“There’s nothing else here. Maybe your coworkers have something you could work with?”

And while you felt frustrated for not being able to do more, you let your irritation die down as you nodded.

As both of you exited the scene of the crime, flashing lights and camera shutters could be heard around the building as if they were annoying bugs that wouldn’t stop bothering you. Mosquitoes sucking the blood out of your systems.

Between noises and judging stares from the journalists, Leon’s stride led him to his bike that was just parked in front of your car. As you could already guess, the lenses of the cameras were getting the perfect take for tomorrow’s diary, especially since people love to read about the woman of the year being close to a man. To assert their sexist stance.

“Hey,” Leon called you, his voice barely audible as the constant background noise was still pretty much present. “Take this with you.”

A confused expression set on your face as you eyed the manila envelope Leon gave you. Before you could even open it to inspect what documents were in front of you, Leon’s voice stopped you.

“I don’t think it’d be wise of you to open that here.” Your attention returned to the blond man who was now putting on his helmet. Immediately, you pressed the folder against your chest, protecting the contents inside of it.

“What's it?”

“You’ll know later.” His hands gripped the handlebars, already turning on the engines. “For now, don’t do anything stupid.”

Haunted by the plethora of degrading terms you were called, your first instinct was to roll your eyes as you watched the agent driving away from the building and from the horde of journalists.

Nonetheless, a part of you couldn’t help but read between the lines. Leon hasn’t been particularly cruel to you like every other cop or colleague. So, his statement could be related to what’s inside the folder.

For now, you simply walked towards your car. Or rather, tried. Ready to be cornered by the starved media while cops attempted to serve as a protective wall around you.

Who am I if not exploited, abused, and corrupted?

A question that used to haunt Leon’s dreams and nightmares. His life purpose has been nothing but being the Government's puppet. Images and memories of being exploited and destroyed build up the man he is now.

Or rather, the beast.

In the search of the ultimate soldier, who would fight against every adversity. A creature that didn’t belong to this world was created. The once human could no longer be classified as one, and he gained the name of a vampire.

His hunger for food was replaced by a maddening and unbearable desire for the vital fluid of blood and his right to die was robbed from him as numerous experiments proved that, in fact, no human weapon could kill him now.

Leon’s spirit was bonded to eternity therefore dying meant nothing to him. He doesn’t belong to life since his humanity was stripped away from him the moment he sold his soul to the nation. But death didn’t want him either, since now mortality runs away from him as the monster he has become.

It was a statement he grew accustomed to. The world was cruel and he was reduced to a simple and mere battle machine. The best weapon the nation had.

Although, he knew he was far from being the best arsenal the government could come up with.

They were greedy. It's always been that way. And the moment the disappearances started, Leon's nature was once again brought to the surface.

It all started when he once switched to a News Channel. The slow and grim music was playing in the background as the headline read: NEWS REPORT: FATHER OF TWO IS MISSING. Followed by another update that indicated he was the third man who has disappeared in May.

No hell could be hot enough for whoever was behind all of this. However, Leon was terribly sure that this case wasn’t something orchestrated by just one individual. The anger he had so deeply buried now flourished as a flower. Yet this time it came with thorns that would cut and stab those who wished nothing but to set the world in despair.

He didn’t wait. If he stood still more innocent people would pay the price of being victims of the same destiny he faced.

— August 14, 1987 —

Mr Clark,

I send my most sincere congratulations to you as I’ve come to know that you’re people’s favorite candidate. I’m so sure your image must be impeccable and flawless to reach such level of popularity.

However, It’s so strange to me that as a public figure, you condemn those corrupted politicians who indulge in nothing but richness, crime, and sinful activities when your past (and present) does nothing but stain your image.

But, I’m a generous individual. I’ll give you two options which you can choose from. You come out clean, show everyone the type of sick criminal you are or, you simply end your life. Easy, right?

After all, you didn’t hesitate to end someone else’s.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader

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sleeplesssmoll · 2 months

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HC: Vertin accidentally Pavlov'd Sonetto

Vertin never leaves the Suitcase without her signature umbrella. She'll inspect it first to make sure it opens properly before heading out. Just in case.

Whenever Sonetto hears the umbrella opening (dogs have great hearing), she rushes over. She associates the sound of the umbrella opening with exploring outside.

"Where are we going today, Timekeeper?"

At first Vertin didn't want to disturb her assistant in her down time for trivial errands, especially when Sonetto's doing one of the daily crosswords in the newspaper.

However, she soon realized that...

Her puppy likes to go on walks.

After learning this, she invites Sonetto on her errands but there are days she just opens the umbrella instead because the eagerness the puppy bursts into the room with is adorable. Sometimes Sonetto gets so excited, she even calls Vertin by her name instead of her title.

One time, Vertin opened the umbrella and hid in the closet as a prank. As expected, Sonetto dashed into the office, her imaginary tail wagging. However, she was absolutely baffled when she didn't see her Timekeeper. "Vertin?"

At this point, Vertin was trying to quietly open the door to sneak up on her but she heard a heartbroken whisper.

"Why did you leave me behind?"

Vertin damn near broke the closet door off its hinges when she slammed it open. "I'm right here, Sonetto!"

Sonetto perked up immediately. "Vertin! Why were you in the closet?"

Vertin apologized and treated Sonetto to cake and coffee later during their time out. It was supposed to be a short trip to the post office, but she made a day out it to make up for earlier.

Sonetto wasn't angry in the slightest and only showed signs of relief when she realized Vertin didn't leave without her.

Frankly, that bothered Vertin more than making Sonetto mad.

#reverse 1999 #vertin #sonetto #hc #Sonetto's separation anxiety is cannon

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desertfangs · 1 month

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Strange Happenings

I was listening to a podcast about Cattle Mutilations and then this happened. It's Armand/Daniel, circa 1975, a little more than 1000 words. I will put this in my short fic document on AO3 later.

Daniel’s blood went cold when he read the newspaper headline. He scoured the article and then checked that yes, this was the Denver paper, not some tabloid. He enjoyed a good tabloid story—and since learning that vampires were real, he suspected that some of the stranger things reported on in those rags were not entirely fiction—but this was a mainstream paper: cattle mutilations.

He looked at the grisly photo of a cow with its guts hanging out, parts of it surgically removed. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed a swig of beer to wash it back down. Ash fell from his cigarette onto the paper and he wiped it away, ashing the cigarette in the ashtray on the small round bar table.

He poured over the article several times. The article said some people were suggesting it was prank, while others had more out-there theories. The article did not go into the specifics of what these strange theories entailed but something unnatural was definitely implied. Daniel wondered what that meant. According to the article, incidents like these had been happening for months in different areas around the state.

He was so absorbed in his reading that the movement of the chair across the table startled him and he jumped.

Armand laughed.

Bastard.

The vampire had sat, looking pleased with himself at how easily he’d managed to sneak up on Daniel. As if he didn’t do it all the damn time. Daniel glanced out the window. He hadn’t even realized it had gotten dark.

“What are you reading?” Armand asked, grabbing the newspaper and sliding it across the table before Daniel could answer.

Armand scanned the page and frowned. Daniel studied him, waiting for his reaction. It didn’t take long. Armand didn’t have to read like a mortal. He could just look at something and absorb the information. He had once insisted to Daniel that he was reading, just faster than a mortal brain could ever manage.

“Well? Is that your kind’s doing?”

Armand laughed again. “You think vampires would bother with such elaborate and silly games?”

You seem to enjoy games, Daniel thought before catching himself, remembering how easily the vampire could hear his thoughts.

“I have no interest in the blood of cows,” Armand said. “Nor do I desire to hack pieces off large animals.”

“No? Seems like it would be a fun weeknight activity for someone like you,” Daniel said, tone droll. He stubbed the butt of his cigarette against the ashtray and pulled the paper back in front of him. “Do you know what’s doing it?”

“Bored children, probably,” Armand said.

Daniel laughed. He couldn’t help it. What an absurd response! “You think kids are going out and hacking up farm animals?”

Armand shrugged. “The article suggests as much.”

It did say local teens were suspected in at least one of the incidents, a copycat prank. He tapped his fingers against the table. “So you don’t know of a creature that might do something like this?”

Armand’s expression shifted, darkening almost imperceptibly. He titled his head and examined Daniel for a long moment while Daniel tried not to squirm uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Then he said, “I’ve never heard of such a creature and I cannot fathom what form they would take.”

Daniel sighed. He folded the newspaper up. “What about Bigfoot?”

Armand blinked. “Are you asking if I believe a giant ape man is carving up cattle?”

Daniel shrugged.

“I’ve told you before, Daniel, I have no knowledge of such things existing. I am immortal, I am not all knowing.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daniel waved his hand and lit another cigarette. “Do you kill animals often?”

Armand actually looked surprised for a moment, which made Daniel smile. It took a lot to throw Armand off kilter and Daniel took great pleasure in doing so.

Armand reached across the table and snatched the cigarette from Daniel’s mouth at a speed that made it look as if the cigarette had flown into his hand of its own accord. Daniel’s heart raced but he tried not to show the jolt of primal fear that ran through him.

Armand held the cigarette between his fingers the way Daniel did, mimicking his motions. “Humans are animals,” he said idly.

“You know that’s not what I mean. Louis said he survived on rats—"

Armand’s head shot up and there was danger in his amber eyes. Daniel swallowed uneasily and reached for his glass. “Do not think speaking to one of us at length makes you an expert. And even he told you that was not normal behavior.”

Daniel took a swig of his beer. “I’m not an expert, that’s why I’m asking you.”

Armand put the cigarette to his lips. He inhaled, and then pulled it from his mouth, staring at it like it had offended him somehow. “We survive on animal blood when there is no other alternative. It’s your blood—the blood of mortals—that truly sustains us. Nothing else is sufficient.”

Armand stared meaningfully at Daniel’s neck as he spoke and Daniel’s hand went automatically to the spot where Louis had bitten him. It had been two years but he could still feel the ghost of the wound and he often wondered how it would feel to have Armand’s fangs in his neck.

Armand’s hand jutted forward, offering Daniel back his cigarette. He took it, fingers brushing Armand’s cool fingers. He wanted to grab his hand suddenly and hold it in his, to see if it would warm up in his grasp. But Armand had already stood, pushing his chair back.

“Where are you going?” Daniel demanded, without really thinking. He should be relieved the vampire was going. He was ice cold and probably hadn’t fed, and here Daniel was, stupidly asking him all about blood. That was a recipe for getting himself on the menu.

And yet he didn’t hate the idea. Vampires could drink without killing.

Armand leaned over the table and brushed a stray hair out of Daniel’s face. “Indeed we can, but it’s not satisfying. When I drink, I ride the heart until it stops and all the life has bled out.”

Daniel’s pulse raced, ice traveling down his spine. And then Armand was gone, almost as if he’d vanished into smoke. Daniel opened the newspaper again and tried to find something to distract himself, waving to the bartender for another beer. He sure as hell wasn’t going to go back to his hotel room alone until the sun was high in the sky and it was safe to do so.

#armand/daniel #short fic #armand x daniel #armand #daniel molloy #the chase years #devils minion #the devil's minion #devil's minion #vc fic #vc fanfic #short fic sunday #is that a thing #it should be a thing #daniel molloy vs cryptids #vc #vampire chronicles #tvc #armandaniel

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the-head-ancho-chilli · 2 years

Text

The Hashira reacting to your fear of spiders

Quite a self indulgent post, as I am currently sleeping in the basement so I can beat the summer heat. However I keep finding spiders which is awful because I hate them too T_T

Post is just as the title says, hope that you enjoy ^^

Word Count: 3.5k~

Mitsuri Kanroji

You would think that as one of the strongest Hashira that she wouldn’t be intimidated by insects

After all, she is pretty close to Shinobu and Obanai

Surely this sweetheart would be able to save you from this predicament!

Well you thought wrong

From the second she lays eyes on you cowering in the corner staring at the ceiling in horror, concern washes over her

“Aw baby, are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Until she follows your unmoving stare to find the spider you’ve been glaring at this whole time

A shriek is ricocheting all around the building’s interior as Mitsuri scrambles to the opposite corner, nearly knocking over the small table in the process

“Sweetie, there’s a spider” You warn nervously. Mitsuri is biting her nails as she frantically looks at you and the spider over and over. “How do we get rid of it? I don’t want to touch it!!!”

Turns out Mitsuri hates spiders too

Kind of ironic for the Love Hashira, don’t you think?

Both of you try to throw objects at the spider to hopefully kill it without ruining the ceiling

Mitsuri isn’t even close to hitting the spider because her throws aren’t even reaching the ceiling, she keeps severely underestimating her tosses because she is afraid to cause more damage

Now you’re both stuck

You end up chucking a newspaper at it, causing the spider to scurry a couple inches to dodge the roll of paper

This freaks both of you out, leading to Mitsuri clinging to you as you both run out of the room

Eventually one of Mitsuri’s cats will wander into the room and take care of the problem for you both

You now have an ally in your arsenal :)

Obanai Iguro

It’s no secret that Obanai loves creepy shit

He loves horror, foggy days, and Halloween is probably his favourite holiday

Obanai even has Kaburamaru around, he’s for all things spooky

When he walks in to find you cowering away from a spider on the table near your cup of tea, his reaction surprises you

He’s lowkey offended

“Are you kidding me” “Just get rid of it Obanai”

He just doesn’t understand why you’re afraid of them

“Explain it to me first, you’re being ridiculous” Obanai groaned with a glare. “I just hate them, they’re creepy and they can jump at you” “Oh, so if Kaburamaru was a snake you would hate him too?” You could feel your eye twitch at that response. “That’s not the same thing cause he’s a snake, you idiot!”

Now look at who’s being unreasonable

Obanai would probably interrogate you for a few minutes before reluctantly catching the spider and releasing it outside

Of course he does this with his bare hands

When he returns to you calming yourself down, he gives you a firm pat on the shoulder while you focus on your breathing

“It’s not that big of a deal, you’re bigger than it anyways” “Wash your damn hands, you sadist” “Rude”

He’ll probably just leave the interaction like that and not think much of it

However if he sees that you’re genuinely hurt from his part with the incident, he’ll give you a hug and apologize

“I should’ve done better the other day, I was disrespecting you and your fear” He whispers while awkwardly holding you close

He’ll make it up to you eventually, but he still seems annoyed by your hatred for spiders

But he knows that it surely comes within good reason

Just give him time

Tengen Uzui

Immediate laughter was heard from all across the estate

Here you were, in Tengens arms after you found a spider in the cabinet while the two of you were in the middle of dinner

The spider sat on the container of salt you were going to add to your stew, but you ended up leaping at the Sound Hashira in an effort to get away from the eight legged bastard

Tengen instinctively carried you as he searched for whatever spooked you, but he had howled with laughter when he found what it was

"It's not funny, Tengen." "You're right honey, it's hilarious! Hahahaha!"

He was laughing so hard that his knees were pointed inward, struggling to hold himself up

Once he calmed down, he placed you off to the side to go remove the spider

You had a frown on your face, but you rolled your eyes and got back to cooking dinner

Tengen returned with a cocky smirk on his face, which didn't help soothe your irritation

"Another good day with my beloved saved by yours truly, man I'm good at this" He said while smoothing his hair

"Pfft, you're oddly smug for someone who just took a spider to a patch of grass" You quipped

"Is that so?" He rested an arm on the top of your head, leaning on you ever so slightly to show off his large stature. "I think you're quite picky for someone who's afraid of spiders"

You didn't say anything, soley focusing on getting dinner done

Tengen was concerned by his silence, thinking that maybe he had gone too far with his teasing

"Hey..." He whispered, resting one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his face to place a soft kiss on your knuckles

"No hard feelings?" He had a slight smile on his face, looking down at you while you softly tugged your hand away from his

You punched his arm jokingly with a playful smirk on your face

"For now..."

Sanemi Shinezugawa

"You're a fucking wuss" Sanemi groaned

He was in the middle of training only to be interrupted by you calling his name with panic in your voice

Running to you, he tore the door to living room with his blade drawn, only to find you pressed up against the wall

Looking around, he doesn't see anything but you still shook from where you stood

You directed him to the blanket you were using, where a joro spider sat with its bright green abdomen shining in the sunlight

Now here Sanemi stood, with his blade on the floor where he dropped it and had his arms crossed

"Kill it" You begged. Sanemi only raised a brow at you, but otherwise remained unmoving

"What's in it for me?" He said with a sly smirk on his face

You really didn't want to make any deals with the Wind Hashira

Not that he never kept to them, but rather that he requested the most ridiculous things to agree to your demands

"Ughhhh fine, what do you want?" You wailed. Anything to get the damn spider gone and get back to the book you were reading

Sanemi's smirk widened. "We're going hiking tomorrow"

You blinked at his bargain

"Deal"

Sanemi crouched down, and picked up the spider carefully with his bare hands

He was calm and quick about it so he was able to hold it in a manner that didn't risk him getting bit

"It's going to be a short hike though..." You pondered out loud

Sanemi stood up again. "What makes you say that?" He asked with his back to you as he headed outside again

This time you had a clever smile

"You never said how long this hike had to be"

Sanemi stopped suddenly, standing still in the door without a single inch of him moving

"Uhh, Sanemi?"

Sanemi turned to you creepily, an evil grin plastered across his state

A chill ran down you spine and you broke into a sprint, Sanemi chasing you with the spider around the training grounds

What an asshole

Shinobu Kocho

On the outside, Shinobu seems like a good person to go to

You shyly lead her to one of the empty wards, pointing to a spider resting on the wall near one of the beds

"Oh my! Are you afraid of spiders? Do you want me to take it outside?"

When you nod at her, still cautiously staring at the spider preventing you from completing your tasks around the Butterfly Estate, Shinobu doesn't waste a moment to save the day

"Alright! I'll take care of you my sweetheart~"

She is the Insect Hashira after all, so she can take care of this issue no problem

Easily traps it in a cup and placed her clipboard over it to prevent it from escaping again

When Shinobu returns, the spider is gone and her clipboard isn't with her

"That must have frightened you! Do you need to sit down? I'm here now"

Her face is beaming with a grin as you hug her, thanking her profusely for getting rid of the little terror

She's kind of surprised with how grateful you are, not really expecting such a happy glow to take over you

It leaves her kind of flustered

Little did you know that in the other room, the spider was seated on a desk still trapped in between the cup and the clipboard

Shinobu keeps the spider for a while without you noticing

At first she was going to use it to hopefully help you get rid of your fear

She thought that if she showed you the spider in a more controlled environment, like a small terrarium, that maybe you'll find it as interesting as she does

But the plan has changed after seeing your expression

Shinobu starts to release the spider every few days in places she knows you'll find it

She does it all for the giddy look on your face when she comes back empty handed, and the tight hugs you give in appreciation

She feels guilty for it, but she can't resist your embraces

By the second week, the other residents started to notice

The butterfly girls pulled Shinobu aside to convince her to stop scaring you unnecessarily

"That's so mean!" "How could you do such a thing?" "Apologize immediately!" The triplets lectured collectively

After explaining her intentions, Shinobu vows to the girls and herself to correct her wrongdoing

"Shino, where are you taking me?" "I don't want to spoil the surprise~"

She leads you to her study, where a small terrarium sat on her desk

"Oh you got a new pet! What is it?" You questioned ecstatically

Shinobu had a small smile on her face as she handed you a bag of mealworms

"It's a spider that I trapped two weeks ago. I wanted to see if I can help you ease your fear of spiders." Shinobu spoke calmly as she gathered two books full of annotations, flipping to some pages she had noted. "You don't have to love them, but I wanted to see if you could understand them. They are quite fascinating creatures!"

You two spent the day learning about spiders, and although you still hate them, you found yourself a little bit soothed by the interesting facts Shinobu shared

Admittedly, feeding mealworms to the spider she kept in the terrarium was kind of cool

Kyojuro Rengoku

Okay there are two options here

If he finds you with a small spider, he is like your knight in shining armor

“Don’t worry my love, I’ll remove the threat at once! You can count on me!”

Kyojuro will take a small cup and a piece of paper, calmly trap the spider, and take it outside with a smile on his face

He’s so gentle that it makes you question why you were afraid of the spider in the first place

When he comes back, he will lift you into his arms and hug you tightly while nuzzling his cheek into yours

“See? It’s not so bad! I’ll always be here if you find another, my love”

Will happily participate in anything you ask of him in times where you need more calming down

How endearing ^^

That is until you figure out that there is a second response to situation like these

Even heroes have their limits

Kyojuro comes home to find you calling out to him, in the bedroom this time

When he enters, there you are, pointing at a spider that’s as big as your palm sitting on the middle of your bed

“Kyojuro, you’re finally here! I was just trying to put away the linen from the…. Uh- Kyo? Are you okay?”

You’re absolutely floored to see the Flame Hashira standing there with his usual smile on his face, but he looked like a nervous wreck

Panic was in his eyes and this man was sweating bullets

“Oh, hahaha! I’m sorry my love, what did you need me for?”

Is he serious…

“Yeah there’s… a spider on the bed”

You couldn’t believe your eyes as his expression shifted from anxious to cold so smoothly

Kyojuro’s face was dead, devoid of his cheeriness, staring hollowly at the large spider that sat on his sheets

Then his face snapped back to a grin and pulled out a matchbox

“Kyo, what are you do-“ “Killing it with fire of course!” “WHAT???”

You had to drag him out to calm him down and convince him not to burn down the entire building

After Kyojuro returned to a more sensible state, he kindly asked his crow to eat the spider and led him into the room

Kaname gobbled it up and thanked his master for the snack

Yummy :)

Giyu Tomioka

Depends on how he finds the spider can drastically change his reaction

If he finds a spider by himself while minding his own business, he'll leave it alone

Completely unfazed by it

He'll only move it if he knows that you'll see it, but often makes truces with them over their existence

"I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone" Kind of deals here

But the second that you scream at the eight legged thing, Giyu smashes it and the surrounding area to get rid of the spider

For such a stoic guy, he went all out like it stole his cold soba

"It is done" Giyu mumbles, calmly wiping the remains and debris off his fist with a handkerchief

You found his confusion hard to believe when you backed away from his open arms, silently declining his affectionate offer

Frankly you now had more things to worry about now that the wall was destroyed, but at least the spider is gone

Giyu is lowkey proud of himself, thinking that he handled the situation well

By the third hole in the living room wall he finally questions if there's a more effective way of doing this

The way that he sees it, Giyu is completely okay with sharing a space with a spider because he does not fear them

This is why he has an unspoken truce between them and other bugs

But because you fear them, Giyu views the same spider as an immediate threat to your safety because YOU fear them

Which is why he attacked so strongly

After speaking with you about your fears around spiders a little more, Giyu now reacts more tranquil at your shrieks when you discover them

Now uses the sheath of his blade to prompt the spider to step onto the holster, and slowly brings it outside to set the spider down on a tree

Still isn't sure what to do when you're still a little freaked out after the interaction, but at least he's learning

Gyomei Himejima

Overdramatic as hell

You almost don't want him to take care of it for you, but the spider sitting on the door has effectively trapped you in your bathroom

When Gyomei opens the door to the bathroom you cowered in, his expression is the same but can't seem to find the reason why you called him over

"Is something troubling you?" Gently speaking in case any sudden movements scare you more

You whimpered “The door…”, shakily pointing at the door he opened

Gyomei enters the bathroom, closing the door behind him and uncovering the spider that got injured in the result of him entering

Two of its legs were bent the wrong way, twitching violently

The giant man before you immediately bursts into tears at the sight of the dying spider

"Oh, I did that. I'm so sorry little one, I didn't mean to." Despite how tranquil his words were, there was a steady river of tears on either side of his face

Your heart wretched at the gentle giant before you crying at the small creature

The spider was so small and jerked at every second, there was nothing you could do to save it

Gyomei felt it was necessary to put the spider out of it's misery, and ripped a small piece of a rag you kept in the bathroom and killed it right where it was

This caused Gyomei to cry even harder

You felt quite guilty about the whole situation, since you were afraid of spiders

What kind of threw you off was the funeral you held afterwards in the garden

You found it silly to throw a large funeral for such a small creature, but Gyomei answered the questions flooding your head before you even voiced them

"No creature is small enough to not be worthy of life" He said, praying silently with the beads around his clasped hands. "All of them are precious, all living beings are loved as long as I am around. Death is such a sorrowful thing"

Your silence didn't go unnoticed by him

"Why do you fear spiders? They're so small, and you're as large as I compared to them. Why do they trouble you?"

You tell Gyomei as much as you were comfortable with, he was nodding silently from where he sat next to you

His hand touched your shoulder softly, tracing his way to the top of your head where he stroked your hair

You leaned into his side, allowing him to wrap his arm around you as he patted your head softly

Perhaps you were too judgemental of Gyomei at first

The gentle giant was just sensitive, that's all

Muichiro Tokito

You might as well go to someone else

Muichiro is an amazing training partner and a great friend, but you have to admit that he's not going to be of much help

You had hung your haori on a railing when you got back from the lake with Muichiro since it had gotten soaking wet

Muichiro dropped it in the lake while you were packing up your stuff after enjoying some early morning training

When you returned to your haori after stopping at Ubuyashiki's estate for some guidance and food, you found a spider sitting ontop of where it layed on the railing

You froze where you were, sweat dripping from your temple and slowly backed away to return inside

"Muichiro?" You called. "Hmm" Muichiro was muching on some tempura at the table. "There's a spider... Could you get rid of it?"

Muichiro shoveled some more food into his mouth

"Let me finish eating and I'll do it" He said without even looking at you

You were skeptical, but you sat down and continued eating with him, occasionally talking in between bites

You had left to go speak with Kagaya about an upcoming mission, but when you returned to your haori again, the spider was still there

It was as if it was mocking you

Inside you found Muichiro, but this time he was doing some crafts, like making paper flowers and knitting lilac bouquets

"Muichiro, the spider..." "Hmm" He hummed again, still not looking at you

You sighed and walked back outside, seeing if you can wait for the spider to leave instead

You found that your haori was spiderless and warm from drying in the sunlight all afternoon

While the two of you walked back to the village on your way home, you both continued talking about whatever came to mind

"I think I'm forgetting something..." Muichiro mumbled

Keeping quiet, you didn't want to mention the spider on your haori earlier

You didn't want to make him feel bad about his forgetfulness

Thinking of ways to avoid the topic, you didn't realize that you were quite a bit in front of Muichiro until he put his hands on your shoulder suddenly

"Stay still for a sec..." "Huh? Oh, okay. Is there a leaf in my hair again?" His fingers gently pinched your upper spine

You turned around and immediately flew to the ground, scrambling backwards away from your friend

"Nah, just this spider on your haori" Muichiro mumbled with the same one you saw earlier

You were thankful that he caught it for you before you noticed it was on your back

He sat with you as you squirmed where you were, trying to get your disgust out of your system before you return to your respective estates

꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚

Thank you for reading! This took a while to complete but I had a lot of fun writing it :D

If anyone wants to submit a request, know that my inbox is open and that there are request info available on my pinned post so please look it over before submitting ^^

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lostfirefly · 2 months

Text

Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more (Ch.2)

This idea came from the dream. Again :)) Sorry not sorry :)

Buggy and F!Reader.

Description: You haven't seen Buggy since your fight.

Warnings: Fluff (pink ponies say hi!)

Words: 1552

The title is taken from "Gone Forever" by Wearing Scars.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) Masterlist

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @a--1--1--3, @operationroots

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 1

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

It's been a few days since your last fight.

You tried to spend as much time as possible at the flower store. Thoughts that you might have overreacted never left your mind. Why did you say all that? Why did you mention Shanks when you knew it was a sore subject for him? Every time the door to your store opened, you hoped to hear his footsteps, to see his face. But every time, you saw either your regular customers or travelers who happened to be stranded on your island.

A week went by. Another week went by. A month. Nothing.

One day one of your regulars came into the store with a friend.

"Another pirate ship has docked off our town." In a creaky old voice, the customer mumbled.

"A pirate ship?" It popped into your head. "Pardon me. And the ship you're talking about. What kind is it?" You inquired, stepping behind the counter.

"Oh, just a regular big one. You know, a pirate ship. Give me three carnations, honey. Today is the fiftieth anniversary of my wife and I's first kiss. I brought her carnations that day." The man tapped his fingers on the counter.

"That sounds very cute! Wait a minute, please!" You started picking out the prettiest flowers. "Excuse me. You've mentioned the ship. Have you seen the flag? What's it like?"

"Oh, just a regular one. Black with a white skull on it. I don't know much about them." The man said back.

"Did you notice any distinguishing features on the flag?" You tried your best to stay calm.

"Honey, I'm barely looking at the newspaper under my nose and you're asking about the flag. Why are you inquiring?"

"No reason. I'm just curious!" You shrugged your shoulders.

As soon as you closed the store, you walked towards the pier.

"Please let it be his flag!" The same thought was spinning in your head. You reached the pier and looked around at all the moored ships.

"Not that one.. Not that one.. Not that one.. Damn it!" You sighed heavily and went home.

Another day in the store passed quietly. All the regular customers noted your sad look and haggard face. You tried to concentrate on work.

"Pirates have been frequenting us for some reason!" The blond man spoke as he brought you a new batch of flowers. "And new posters were hung up. I even took one down to show you. There’s some kind of crazy person on it.." He put the poster on the table. You glanced at the piece of paper and your eyes widened.

"Where did you get that?" You asked loudly to reach the delivery man who was in the pantry.

"As I said, it was hanged today. Why are you asking?"

"Just a question.." You muttered under your breath.

"Some kind of freak, huh?" The man came back to you and pointed at the poster.

He was on the poster. Your Buggy. You smiled when you saw that his reward had been increased.

"I don't know, he’s quite cute." You shrugged.

"Oh, our lovely Y/N loves pirates!!" The guy started mocking you.

"Shut up! By the way, what did you mean when you said 'ships have been frequenting'?"

"Oh, two more moored." He pointed at the documents. "Ok, sign here and here."

You could hardly wait for the evening to walk to the pier again. You scanned the ships with your eyes.

"Not that one, Not that one... Fuck!" You sat down on the bench and felt tears running down your cheeks.

"First of all, a girl shouldn't walk alone in the evening near pirate ships. And secondly, tears can ruin your beautiful face." Suddenly a voice came from behind you.

You froze and extended your hand towards the voice. You felt a glove on your hand and fingers that slid across your palm.

"Hey, my cookie!"

You heard his voice and slowly turned around, afraid that these are hallucinations.

"Hey!" Your eyes were wet from tears, you could hardly see his face, but you definitely couldn’t confuse his red nose with anything.

Buggy sat down next to you on the bench and put his arm around your shoulders. "God, what kind of grand line is flowing from your eyes?"

"Are you kidding?" You sobbed and wiped your nose.

"Not at all!"

"Where have you been for a month? Why didn’t you come back immediately after our quarrel? Idiot!" You leaned into his shoulder.

"Don't know." Buggy sighed heavily. "How are you?"

"Not good. It’s bad without you. I felt bad before our fight but at least I knew that we were together. And after we had a fight, you slammed the door and I didn’t know if we were still together or not."

"Cookie, what are you talking about? We will always be together." He kissed your cheek.

You took his hand and said quietly. "I'm sorry for that fight and my words."

"Sorry too." He said barely audibly.

"I missed you, Buggy. And I saw your new poster. I'm so proud of you. Now they put a lot of money on your head."

"My lucky cookie! You are in a relationship with a flashy pirate for whom they give a lot of money."

"Idiot." You smiled. "Then where have you been for a month?"

"Oh! I was looking for a gift for you!" Buggy reached his hand somewhere behind his back.

"What kind of gift can you look for in a month?!"

"This one." He handed you the box.

"What's there?" You looked at him with surprised eyes.

"You don't know how to open gifts?" He laughed and reached his hand towards the box. "Let me show you."

"No, idiot! I'll open it." You opened the lid of the box and was shocked. "Den Den Mushi?? But… You're not using that thing on your ship."

"Well.. Not before, but now I have to. I thought you should know that everything is fine with me. And I should know that my future wife is also fine."

"Future... who?" You looked at him with round eyes, constantly blinking.

"Oh, crap. The surprise is ruined! Ok! This is gift number two!" Buggy handed the second box and placed it in your hands.

You carefully opened the box and saw a silver ring with a round green stone. You looked at the ring and then glanced at Buggy.

"What?" He laughed.

"Nothing. It’s beautiful!" You twirled the box in your hands.

"A beautiful ring for a beautiful girl, right?" He cleared his throat. Buggy stood up from the bench and knelt down in front of you. "You know that words are hard for me. I... I don’t want to share you with anyone. Not with this fucking Tom, not with anyone else. And I also know that I want to come to this island to visit my beloved wife, not just a girlfriend. And I also know that I will patiently wait until you can join me on the ship. It will be hard, but I will wait."

You looked at Buggy, tears streaming down your cheeks again. You stroked his chin. "You know.. When I leave with you, my friends will not be happy."

"So this is a yes?" He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Of course, my fool!" You took his face in your hands and kissed him on the lips.

"Damn! I should have grabbed flowers!" He looked around. "I’ll be back, don't go anywhere!" He got up from his knees and quickly ran away into the darkness.

"Where are you going, Buggy? Where are you?" You held the ring in your hands and couldn’t stop laughing.

Buggy came back holding a branch of a blossoming apple tree in his hands.

"I didn’t find any flowers, but I found this!" He got down on one knee again, took the ring from your hands and handed you the apple tree branch. "Still haven't changed your mind?"

"No!" You sniffed the apple tree branch and extended your hand towards him.

Smiling widely, Buggy placed the ring on your finger.

You kissed him on the lips. "I love you. I don't need any Tom, any potential Ben or anyone else. I want to be with you."

"I want to make you happy!" He held your hand and returned the kiss.

You kissed him back. "I promise not to ask you to be more than you are, and to love you for being you."

"I promise to take care of your kind heart and to always love you with all of mine." Kiss.

"I promise to listen for as long as it takes for you to feel heard." You kissed him back.

"I promise to grow old with you." Kiss.

"I promise to celebrate your triumphs, and love you all the more for your failures." You kissed him back.

"This ring is a promise that you will never have to face the world alone." Kiss.

You looked at the ring again, looked at Buggy. You breathed out a sigh of relief. Yes, there will be many more arguments, partings and meetings on your way. But you never would have imagined that out of all the people in this world, you would find someone as special as you. The clown pirate. Your Buggy.

#one piece #buggy the clown #buggy live action #one piece live action #buggy one piece #opla buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #buggy fic #opla buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy x female reader #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x reader

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unactive-shroom · 10 months

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The last thing Leo Valdez expected was to see Y/n L/n in bunker nine.

Crouched beside a large metal frame, her oil stained hands made rapid movements as the machine shuddered and emitted a grey fog across the bunker. Although Leo guessed the contraption was about to combust, he couldn’t help but fix his gaze on the girl in front of him.

it had been almost a year since he had seen her last, her previously long, dyed hair was now tied back out of her face, the dye settled at the ends of her hair like dripping paint. Her natural black hair created the perfect silhouette for her face, emphasising her sea-green eyes and her ethereal seeming features. She seemed tired, but happier, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Y/n?” Leo stammered. “When did you get here?”

The girl looked up and smiled a cheeky grin back in response, before giving the machine one final thump with a mallet before it spurred to life, clanking and clunking, gradually clearing the grey smog from the room.

She stood up, wiping her slender hands on what appeared to be a pair of school trousers. It seemed as if she had just left school, which was impossible. Her school was miles and miles away, surely she wouldve had time to change. Besides, School finished up almost a month ago in America.

Before Leo could decide whether an “I missed you so so much ” or a “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early??” was a better thing to say, he was engulfed in her arms, her familiar ocean and oil smell frying his brain for a split second.

“Man, I’ve missed you, Leo. Sorry for rooting around in your bunker without asking you, I thought you’d already be in here and then I got a bit distracted I guess”

She explained how she arrived early after some empousai attacked her boarding school in Birmingham, causing the year to finish early. As for why she was in her uniform still, Apollo still owed her a favour from when he was turned mortal, so she asked him to bring her to camp half blood.

As they left bunker nine and headed to dinner hand in hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick square wrapped gift.

“didnt think I forgot your birthday, did you?” As she handed him the present he looked at her sceptically. “Did you for real get me a book for my birthday? I mean damn, I love you and all, but a book? seriously?”

Regardless, he carefully unwrapped the vibrant paper around the gift, revealing a red leather book with the title bearing “Esperanza Valdez”. Speechless, Leo shot you a careful glance before opening the book. Inside was a handwritten note.

“Cariño, you told me once that you would do anything to have a picture of your mother, beside the newspaper clippings from that night. You told me it was pointless though, because it was impossible. That your family would never even talk to you again, let alone give you anything of your mother. You have given me what I thought was impossible. Love, acceptance. A place to go. I think it’s time for me to return the favour. Mi vida, mi alma, mi sol. Te amare por siempre. Feliz cumpleaños, mi amor.” ^

Leo flicked through the pages in disbelief. The inside of the book was filled with scrapbooked pictures of his mother in her youth, all the way to pictures of her mother holding him with his grandparents, his mother playing legos with him, his mother and him going about their life, content. Before the accident. When he got to the last page he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He collapsed into her arms, sobbing a mixture of grief and gratitude, all while she stroked his hair and waited for him to calm down.

When he had done so, she asked if he wanted her to read him the final page, a crinkled handwritten note carefully glued into the final page

“Necesito ir a comprar algunas cosas a las tiendas, hijo. Si te despiertas antes de que regrese, no tengas miedo. Volveré tan pronto como pueda. llamar a nuestro vecino si algo sucede. ¡Te amo! -Mami”. ^^

It was heartbreaking how something so mundane can cause such Greif - A note from Leo’s mom for his child self not to worry as she went shopping in the early morning. Leo had never had anything like it, a note written by his mother, her *handwriting*, it felt so surreal. He remembered reading the note as a child, waiting patiently by the door for his mothers return. But now there was no door to wait by, no mother to walk through it. He looked up at y/n with tear filled eyes.

“How did you even get these? I know Aunt Rosa didn’t give them to you, no way.”

And so she explained how she sought out Clios, the Greek patron of history, and did many complicated and time consuming, and some straight up ridiculous quests in exchange for old photos of his mother. The handwritten note had been a “tip” for doing such a good job on the quests.

Leo was completely shocked. How - *why* would someone do all this for *him*? He thought to himself how he didn’t deserve such a wonderful partner such as y/n, such a kind and thoughtful human was surely wasting their time being with *him*.

Despite his thoughts & tears, the two of them made it to dinner, where Leo showed piper and Jason the pictures of his mom and him. It was too personal, too raw to share with anyone else yet. And after Leo’s 20th “thank you so so much I love you the most anyone has ever loved ever” they finally blew out the candles on the cake, and when anybody asked, Leo was sure to tell them that it was the best birthday he ever had.

a/n : I can never nicely finish up a one shot can I. Reader is implied daughter of Poseidon. Anyways, translation for the Spanish :

^ “my life, my soul, my sun. I love you forever. Happy birthday my love”

^^ “I need to go buy some things at the shops, son. If you wake up before I come back, don't be afraid. I'll be back as soon as I can. call our neighbor if something happens. I love you! - Mami”

Sorry if my Spanish is bad bro I suck at sm and won’t lie I used a lot of google translate for the second piece. Okay hope you enjoyed 🫶 happy birthday Leo

#Leo Valdez x reader #Leo pjo x reader #Leo Valdez #Leo heroes of Olympus #Leo hoO #Leo Valdez x y/n #Leo Valdez x you #Percy Jackson x reader

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smartycvnt · 10 months

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Break On Through

Title: Break On Through Pairing: Harley Quinn x Reader Prompt: 6. "I thought you hated each other." "Things change." NR WC: 1408

"Harley please," Selina begged as she stood in between Harley and the door. There was a new presence in Gotham, one that required the ladies of its underground to band together in a united front. Selina had noticed several women being taken out, and now the group behind it was showing their faces. Not in a literal sense, but whenever a new woman in power disappeared, everybody knew who had done it. Selina didn't want to see herself or any of her friends on the nightly news after being brutalized by these savages. That was why she had called in Harley and Y/n, the two of them were the smartest people Selina knew, and they'd be sure to know how to keep everyone safe.

"No way. Nuh-uh. I'm not doing it. I am not working with that piece of work over there. She's awful Selina, absolutely awful." Harley could have gone on all night, but Selina was smart to clamp her hand over Harley's mouth, literally shutting her up.

"The two of you are the only ones I know who can break the psychology of these guys. We've thrown everything else we can at them, they have to be outsmarted. That's the only way they'll stand down," Selina said. It was truly the last defense, and Selina wouldn't have tried getting Y/n and Harley together otherwise. Harley hated Y/n, who had been just an intern at Arkham whenever Harley had started to lose her mind. Selina wasn't completely sure why Harley hated Y/n, but she assumed that it had something to do with workplace gossip or the like. "So, please just go over there, sit down with her, and see what makes those douchebags tick."

"Fine, but I ain't being nice to her. Not even a damn smile," Harley said as she shoved her finger against Selina's chest. Selina sighed and nodded in agreement, although Selina wasn't sure how long they'd be alone together before Harley broke her promise. Selina had seen Harley through a lot, and post-Joker, Harley was a slightly more stable and vibrantly happier version of herself. Selina wondered if it was anything like Dr. Quinzel whenever the blonde first arrived at Arkham all those years ago. Selina had heard the stories from Ivy about the bright faced and determined young woman who had been corrupted by The Joker.

"Whatever, just go," Selina mumbled. Harley ran off around the corner, but stopped herself before she reached the mess on the floor where Y/n was working. She didn't want to seem too eager, even if Harley was excited about getting to stop these guys. She had bashed in quite a few of their heads after watching them mow down a group of working ladies on the corner. Harley didn't indulge herself in their services, but they were good women, ones who had never passed judgement on her for any of her mistakes.

"What the hell is this mess?" Harley threw her arms up as she took a good look at everything around her. It looked like a good third of the room's floor was covered in various forms of papers. Y/n's laptop was sitting on the couch behind Y/n, occasionally being typed into whenever Y/n came across something familiar.

"This is my process. Stop judging me and do something useful," Y/n said without looking up from anything. Harley felt like she was in shock, both from the way that Y/n had just spoken to her and because of the mess on the floor being considered a "process." Harley was certain that it wasn't anybody's actual process to make a huge mess just for what looked like a few notes on a computer. How Y/n made it as a doctor rather than a patient at Arkham was officially beyond Harley.

"What have you got so far?" Harley asked as she grabbed an empty notebook and box of newspaper clippings with information about the attacks. Y/n rattled off some things that were obviously taken almost directly out of a textbook before getting into her own interpretations of the information and what the guys were doing. Harley would never have admitted it, but she was impressed by the things that Y/n was telling her. The inferences were completely on point and had more than enough information to back them up if Harley were to question any o them. "Maybe you're smarter than I thought."

"Well only one of us was swindled by a madman," Y/n muttered under her breath. The pencil in Harley's hand splintered as her fist tightened around it. Y/n looked amused by Harley's reaction, as if she was playing with her. Finally, it clicked for Harley why Y/n had been fired from Arkham.

"You're a psychopath, aren't you? Just a little too dangerous to be herding the rest of us around. I don't think I've ever met anyone who was enough of a wacko to get turned away from the looniest of looney bins," Harley teased. "And they put that on your file so you couldn't go nowhere else. Ha, you got stuck in Gotham with the rest of us!"

"Why don't you keep over there to your notes and I'll keep to mine. I'd hate for you to learn the real reason I got booted from the staff," Y/n said. Her voice had taken on a dangerous tone, one that Harley hadn't thought the woman to be capable of. They stayed to themselves for a few more hours, but Harley couldn't help herself and just had to tease Y/n a little more. The punch had come without a warning on Y/n's part. Harley hadn't even noticed Y/n stand up or walk over. She just felt the fist connect with her face. Y/n was sitting back down before Harley registered what had happened. There was blood, more blood than Harley thought was even in her face.

"Damn, that's one hell of a right hook," Harley said as she used the bottom of her shirt to soak up some of the blood. Y/n simply got up and grabbed Harley something to drink as the color started to drain from Harley's face. The two of them found themselves sat down on the floor next to each other. Neither of them said anything as Y/n flipped through the notes that Harley had taken so far and Harley tried stopping the blood from pouring out of her nose. "You know, I don't take kindly to people smacking me around any more."

"Admittedly, that wasn't very mature, but it did sort of feel good. You were starting to get on my nerves," Y/n said flatly. Harley wasn't sure why, but she found something humorous about their situation.

"Good, you should stand up for yourself. Especially in times like these," Harley reasoned. The two of them chatted absentmindedly for a little while longer until their exhaustion got the best of them. Harley tried insisting that Y/n take the couch, but Y/n gave it up because she felt bad about punching Harley in the face. That was how the two of them ended up laying down cuddled up together on the floor with a throw blanket just barely both of their bodies. That was how Selina had found the two of them, and once Y/n had left to get back to her own place, Selina decided to question Harley about their night.

"What was that about? I thought you hated each other." Selina didn't bother to hide her amusement at finding the two of them cuddled up together. Y/n wasn't the cuddling type, and Selina knew just how terrible that woman's bedside manner could be. Harley must have done something very special to convince Y/n to cuddle up with her like that.

"Things change. I dunno," Harley answered. Selina narrowed her eyes at Harley, and slowly, Harley began to crack. "Okay, okay! I think she's cute, and maybe, just maybe, it has something to do with knowing that she can take care of herself. I like that in a woman, someone like me needs to be kept on the straight and narrow sometimes."

"Well, you should ask her out then," Selina said happily. Harley mulled the thought over, completely overlooking the possibility that Selina had used their situation as a means to play matchmaker.

#my writing #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn #dc x reader #dc

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mesillusionssousecstasy · 11 months

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Demon 79

This mini movie / episode was quite nice actually.

Apparently, Demon 79 was originally supposed to be released on a sister series called Red Mirror which would deal with more supernatural things rather than having it all technology based. According to Brooker they might end up doing more Red Mirror episodes depending on the success of this.

Now there’s several nods to horror classics in this entry with the score of the shining being used as the title comes up. We also have the poster for the entry itself which looks like it’s playing on the one for that film along with it’s latter sequel Doctor Sleep. Made to evoke 70′s horrors this entry also tackles themes like race, politics and the incoming apocalypse. Centred around a woman named Nida Huq I couldn’t help think that this might be a reference to Brookers real life wife Connie Huq who has co-wrote several episode of the show in the past.

After the title reveal we come across Nida and can hear bright eyes in the background by Art Garfunkel. This was written for the 1978 movie Watership down and the song itself is about a dreamlike state where someone goes on a journey. This is similar to Nida in the entry and they give a lot of focus to her eyes being wide open at several points.

Now this episode is packed with a number of different easter eggs and ties back to other black mirror episodes from the off and throughout. There’s a shoe brand called Wolfies Footwear which might be building off the back of the last episode Mazey Day. We see the newspaper clipping talking about how a tipley publican named Robert Daly has died. Robert Daly is a name that has appeared in the series before and this was the character that Jesse Plemons played in USS Callister. This is probably director Tobey Haynes giving a bit of a shoutout to himself as he directed not only this but also that episode as well. The talisman used to summon the demon also seems like a thinner version of the white bear symbol which actually appears later on in the flashes of Michael Smarts future.

The fictional UKN broadcaster from the universe announces his Britannia party and we learn that Smart actually took power from Michael Callow from National Anthem. However the flash here shows that he was kicked out for Racist remarks and a clipping in Loch Henry showed that he’d rebuke this. It then announced he’d start a new party which leads to the Britannia one which has the union jack in the white bear symbol. There’s also a shot of facial recognition at an eye level being taken out. This could indicated that the ADIs from hated in the Nation came from Smart and we see that they’re used on a black man showing that they have a racial angle to them. We also end up seeing one of dogs from Metal Head. A news ticker in Loch Henry confirmed that they were introduced by Smart and they of course caused a lot of issues in the country.

It’s funny how Dog is thought to be the titular demon of the episode, when I definitively see it as Smart and hell doesn’t even want him dead because of all the evil he could do. Smart represents the control of the weak minded people who are easily swayed by politicians and he almost somewhat hypnotises Nida’s co-worker into voting for him.

Gaap is also a real life demon from the infernal dictionary who has shape shifting abilities and can show people a past. He states that he’s a misophape which is a lower class demon.

At one point Nida reads the book Creative Visualisation which is about using the power of imagination to create what you want in life.

Turns out that murderers can’t count as people who are killed due to them already being damned and thus she has to go after smart.

Nevertheless the book is a major clue and we have the history with her mother adding to it as well. We know from the other entries that Michael Smart survived and benefits from this attack.

The episode have the similarities to the son of Sam killings which too took place in the 70s. David Berkowitz said that a demon in the form of a dog told him to do it which though he’s admitted was a hoax could be the basis for this episode itself.

The morality behind it is : Is it ok to kill someone when he’s a bad person or when he will do despicable things in the future.

Can someone good and innocent do something terrible and bad for the greater good?

The actors playing the principal roles were perfect, especially the one playing the dancer in Bobby M.

Why 79?

Also the prime minister Michael Smart is finally in this entire episode from present to future.

Some good quotes: “- So don’t just hope for a better future. Vote for one!”

“- Cast out into a boundless, cosmic void. And doomed to spend eternity in a vaccum of infinite nothingness. Absence of matter, of time, of space, light, and sound. I would endure a profound, palpable, and ever-present lack of existence, alone in perpetuity, forever more. - Sound like my life.”

“- My whole life, I never wished harm on anyone. I didn’t. - Uh... You couldn’t have summoned me for my trial if you hadn’t. Well, you had to be corruptible, not beyond corruption. You know what? You must have had some dark force inside you when you touched the talisman. There’s no shame in it.”

“- Then I choose Michael Smart. He’s the one. That’s that. - Honestly, they are not gonna like it. - But it’s within the rules, so they can lump it.”

“- So, I mean, you could come with. - Into eternal oblivion? - Oh no, it’s much worse than that. It’s with me.”

#black mirror #black mirror season 6 #black mirror review #demon 79 #netflix show #netflix series

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just-another-romantic · 1 year

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A Pip x Ravi Headcannon I cant get my mind off of

Ok so I finished reading As Good as Dead today (emotional damage) and I am FIXIATED on the “Hey Sarge, remember me?” text. Cannot stop thinking about it. So here’s what I think happened leading up to day 694 and the events afterwards.

Ravi was the first person to tell Pip about the results of the trial.

Pip had probably been getting texts from her family or friends that went unanswered regarding the trial, because they knew she had to be interested in it (not knowing why of course) so she obvi knew it was coming up soon

But Ravi broke the news to her first

If you think Ravi wasn’t involved in the case, you are damn wrong

Obviously he wasn’t appearing at every single trial or obsessively searching for updates on the news (he found himself itching to reload the page again and again on day 92, but stopped himself, because he knew that Pip would tell him not to, that it would leave a trace, it was suspicious)

He would get news updates by glancing at the local newspaper, or having his friends look it up on their phones

Ravi wasn’t there in person when Max was sentenced, but you can bet your bottom dollar that he was watching it on a livestream

The live stream was casted on the TV from his mom’s Facebook, the page titled “Justice for Jason” receiving an influx of comments, likes, and shares. But he was just a watcher, waiting with a baited breath.

His mom sat beside him on the couch, his dad next to her. The Singh family rigid with anxiety, waiting for the verdict again, almost eight years later.

The Judge rose before the microphone, and Ravi’s breath caught in his throat.

“Under a unanimous decision, Max Hastings has been found guilty of the murder of Jason Bell, in first degree.”

The world around him went quiet. Still. Dead. The room was suddenly so small, yet so big. His mother gasped, grabbing onto Ravi, exclaiming that the justice system finally did something good, something right. But Ravi’s ears were ringing. He wasn’t focusing on Max’s reaction, the uproar in the court from the Hasting’s family, or even his father’s comments, all Ravi heard over and over was guilty guilty guilty. Because for him, for Pip, that meant innocent.

The reason why it took so long (three minutes) for Ravi to text Pip was because he was half in shock, half celebrating with his parents, half worried that Pip wouldn’t be interested in the case in him anymore, and half trying to figure out what the fuck to say.

But with the results of the trial and all the bad that led up to it, Ravi wondered if he finally managed to take half of Pip’s suffering. If there was still room for some good.

His thumbs lingered over the keyboard. Ravi ran upstairs after the commotion died down, only wanting to celebrate this moment with one person. What could he say? “You’re innocent, it’s gonna be ok” seemed to risky. Asking “Did you see the news” sounded too detached like he didn’t care, like he hadn’t been thinking about her for almost two years

But he typed it without thinking. His fingers did the work.

“Hey Sarge, remember me?”

Ravi’s heart inflated when he saw the read receipt immediately, the text bubble emerging almost immediately afterwards

Pip had been in class, hadn’t been watching the news for the past few hours. She had an exam coming up, and she used her studying as a distraction

But when she pulled out her phone, she ignored the calls from Nat and Connor, and all of the texts from Cara and Naomi, and her eyes went straight to Ravi’s name

“Give me a sec.”

She said

A few states away, Ravi’s heart deflated a little. Did she not care about the case? About him? Had she found someone else to fill the same never ending void that Ravi held in his own chest?

Her name lit up across his phone screen. The ringtone he had for her was still the same, a stupid Taylor Swift song he caught her singing one day.

Pip held her breath

Ravi’s thumb hovered over the green accept button and tried not to let his anxiety get the best of him.

How much had she changed? Was she safe? Was she all alone at college? Did she still see Jason Bell’s head caved in every time she closed her eyes? Did she hear Ravi’s voice next to her throughout the day, the same way he did her’s?

But he looked at her contact photo, an old one from one of their first dates. It was at Ravi’s favorite sandwich shop. Pippa had two pringles in her mouth, creating the beak of a duck. Her eyes were alive. Bright.

He saw that and knew.

He accepted the call and brought the phone up to his ear.

“Ravi?” Pip breathed.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered. The trial. The distance between them. That all consuming darkness.

Ravi’s face broke into a grin. “Hey Sarge. It’s me.”

States away, in the security of her dorm room, Pip had the freedom to cry. So, upon hearing Ravi’s voice again, she broke.

She caught the sob in her hand, muffling the cries through the phone.

Ravi heard her. “You ok there, Pippus? You sound like you’re crying.”

Pip couldn’t lie to him. Not to anyone. Not anymore. No more lies, it just fed the void.

She sniffed, “Just happy.” Which said everything. I’m free. You’re ok. You didn’t forget me. I missed you. I love you. I want you back.

Tears were rolling down his cheeks too, tasting salty on his lips. “You big softie.”

Pip choked on a laugh. The first one she had let out in a long time. In the 694 days since she heard his voice, he still sounded the same.

“Yea, I can say the same for you.”

The next question lingered in Ravi’s throat. Come home. But he couldn’t ask that of her. To return to the town that had broke her. To a place filled with so much evil and hatred. She was too good for all of that ugly. She needed something good.

Pip beat him to it. “I don’t have classes tomorrow.”

The way her voice trailed off at the end answered Ravi’s question. The silence said everything. It always had said everything for them.

Come see me.

“I can be there by tonight,” Ravi said. The distance between us is too great, but feels like nothing all the same.

Pip let herself cry freely at this point. She whispered, “Drive fast.” I never stopped wondering if you were okay.

“I will.” I would be there right this moment if I could.

“There’s a sandwich shop you’ll really like on campus.” I never stopped thinking about you.

“I can’t wait to try it, Sarge.” I can’t wait to see you.

“I’ll see you soon.” I’ve been waiting for this moment for two years, and I would have continued to wait for it my whole life.

“I’ll text you when I’m on my way.” I don’t want to hang up. I missed your voice.

There was no stopping the next words. “I love you,” Pip said.

Ravi felt like he could fly. “I love you too Pip.”

And that night, when Pippa watched Ravi’s car pull into her dorm parking lot, she knew she was home.

#a good girl's guide to murder #agggtm #pip and ravi #pippa fitz amobi #ravi singh #ravi singh is boyfriend material #as good as dead #as good as dead spoilers #good girl bad blood #spoilers

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ginnyw-potter · 1 year

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The Dating Life of Ginny Weasley

Written for Several Sunlit Daylights, the Taylor Swift x Hinny Collab we all need, organised by @ginwiz

Prompt: Be inspired by a song from Midnights or a lyric about nighttime. This one is based on Lavender Haze

When they came home from the Order party after midnight, no one was really sleepy enough to go to bed. They settled around the kitchen table, chatting lightly. Mr Weasley sat down and pulled the Daily Prophet to him.

He cleared his throat. “Ginny, you may want to read this before you go to Diagon Alley tomorrow.”

Ginny groaned and reached out, her dad handed it to her. She looked down and Harry bent over too. The article was titled ‘The Dating Life of Ginny Weasley’.

Ginny’s expression fell as she read through the article. “This is ridiculous! As if I was dating every guy who was interested in me.”

“I mean, you did know how to garner their attention,” Ron commented.

Ginny’s head snapped up. “What do you mean by that, Ron?”

“He just means you are very pretty and every guy at school figured it out at the same time,” Harry attempted to pacify her.

Ginny ignored him and turned her attention back to the article. “I hate this! Suddenly I am a questionable choice because I looked at another guy before Harry. What kind of 1950s bullshit is this?! I don’t see them mentioning Cho, because men can do what they want. No, they can slander me for dating someone else before him.” She stood up from her chair and shoved the newspaper into Harry’s chest. “It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? I should be glad they didn’t find out I ditched both of them. Imagine how it would terrorise the nation if they could fear I may get in into my crazy head to break up with the Chosen One!”

She stormed off before anyone could say anything else.

Harry threw the paper onto the table and ran after her into the garden. She was briskly walking to the furthest point of the garden. He had to jog to catch up. He caught her hand and pulled. She halted and turned around with a big sigh.

“You know I don’t care. Not about the article, not about you dating other guys. It could have been ten more, it doesn’t matter,” Harry said, though he suspected she knew that.

“It’s going to be like this every time, isn’t it? They get bored, they pull a rumour out of their ass. You make one misstep and they’ll drag up your past!” she said.

“Yes.” He hated that he couldn’t protect Ginny from it.

“They just enjoy writing whatever they please for sales, don’t give a damn how it impacts someone's life!” she ranted.

“I know.”

Ginny’s posture deflated a bit. “Of course you know, this isn’t fair to you. You’ve had much worse things written about you.”

Harry smiled. “Undesirable No. 1, in the flesh.”

Ginny snorted. “Right. At least to me, you’re desirable No. 1.”

“Ah, I should get that printed on a shirt.”

“Absolutely. I can get one that says ‘Chosen One’s slutty girlfriend’,” she replied.

Harry shook his head and put an arm around her waist. “No, no, you can’t have that.”

“Why not? It’s what they write,” Ginny argued.

“Oh no, you can be slutty all you want.” He locked eyes with her. “It’s just if you put ‘girlfriend’ you will have to update it eventually.”

There was a pause before Ginny realised the implication and she turned so red that even the dim moonlight couldn’t hide it.

“No?” he asked now.

Ginny’s hand came to his waist. “I didn’t think…”

“I’d want to marry you?” he finished her sentence and looked at her fondly. It amused him greatly that she seemed to be at a loss for words right now. It took a lot to reduce Ginny to silence. He leaned to her ear. “You can be my slutty wife.”

Ginny’s head dropped onto his shoulder as she took a deep breath. “You can’t. Do that to me.”

“Right, I momentarily forgot it was your lifelong ambition to marry me.”

Her head shot back up, her face glowing. “Please,” she scoffed. “I wasn’t that ambitious.”

Harry chuckled. “Really? I thought you liked a challenge.”

She tilted her head. “Well, turns out you didn’t need much convincing at all.” She glanced back at the house. “We should get back inside.”

Harry nodded and walked back. They both sat back down.

Half the Weasley men looked confused.

“How did you change her mood in that short amount of time?” George asked.

Harry shrugged. “I just know which buttons to push.”

Ginny looked at him. “I’d be careful, Harry, to push that particular one or I may hold you to it, sooner rather than later.” She smirked.

“I dare you,” he responded cheekily.

She squinted her eyes at him and nodded solemnly. “See, I would but, uh, this article clearly dictates I should be a bit more conservative so… it’s going to have to be you I believe.” Her eyes were twinkling.

“Right, in that case, I need your dad’s approval first,” he responded.

“What?” Mr Weasley squeaked.

Ginny crossed her arms and leaned back on her chair. “Well, it’s no fun if you drag my family into it.”

“Can’t drag mine into it, can I? No clue if they’d approve.”

“Sirius did.”

Harry’s head whipped around to Hermione when she said it. “What.”

“Sirius figured out you fancied Ginny long before you did. It’s safe to say he was in favour.”

Harry closed his mouth abruptly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. Ginny immediately took his hand, squeezing it lightly.

“It’s true, it’s one of the only things we could agree on when it came to Harry,” Mrs Weasley said.

“But I didn’t know…” He looked at Ginny. “Was I that oblivious?”

“Yes!” half the table went in unison.

Ginny grinned. “You figured it out eventually.” She stood up. “I am going to shower and then I am off to bed.” She walked out of the room but then she turned back. “Don’t plan my wedding without me! I mean you, mum.”

Mrs Weasley looked a little insulted. “I wouldn’t.”

#hinny #severalsunlitdaylights #fic #harry potter

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daisybeewrites · 10 months

Note

for the speak now prompts,

The team or philindaisy to Long Live 👀

you got it love. made myself tear up a bit ngl 🫶

~~~~

Long Live

They said remember this moment.

Daisy’s hands shook as she took a seat on her bunk. Next to her sat a box of memories — disposable camera photos from throughout the years, her very first badge, letters from Jemma, May, and Coulson. The few trinkets that she saved when all went to hell (she couldn’t quite remember which ones came from between which disasters, though). A mixtape CD from Jemma titled ‘Space Jams’.

She smiled, sorting through the box. There wasn’t any one thing she was looking for, not really. What she was searching for, she wouldn’t find in the box.

You held your head like a hero.

Newspaper clippings surrounded her, scattered around the floor like confetti. The pictures were clipped to the wall with string and clothespins — Coulson posing with his Captain America baseball cap and May making her ‘mom’ face; Daisy and Jemma napping on the floor after a mission; Hunter standing on Bobbi’s shoulders and Daisy on Mack’s, racing to screw in lightbulbs on a maintenance day; Daisy, Fitz, and Jemma hanging upside down from their beds during their time on the bus.

She watched the clouds pass by the window, stretching farther than she could fathom. The sky was dusted with stars. She could almost pick out the distorted shapes of her own constellations, even as they stretched further and further out of familiarity. May used to watch the stars while flying. She could remember the first time May let her sit with her in the cockpit.

Long live the walls we crashed through.

Daisy flopped onto her bed, exhausted. It had taken two showers to get all the alien goo out of her hair, and Kora was still working on washing the dust from their suits. Daniel had run comms for this one.

The strange, adrenaline rush she got during a fight had faded, leaving her limbs feeling like jelly and her mind filled with static. Daisy glanced at her nightstand. There was a picture of the team, posing in the lab at the Playground. May and Coulson’s arms were around her. She missed her family.

There was a time when she lived in a van with her computers, a hot plate and a hula girl. She held the small figurine, watching her wobble as the Zephyr 3 took off. She used to tell herself that she liked being alone, but now she felt like she couldn’t bear to be without them. She had spent so much time in her room at first, avoiding the rest of them. They opened up the door. They crashed into her life and she crashed into theirs and, for some reason, she felt like she should have known they would never be the same.

Please take a moment, promise me this.

It was part of her job to be silent. To stay hidden. To protect from the shadows. She wouldn’t trade it for anything.

But she did hate how difficult it was to get in touch.

Kora tapped her shoulder from her place in the co-pilot’s seat. "It’s almost time."

Daisy nodded and swallowed hard. Daniel squeezed her shoulder and took her place in the cockpit. She made her way back to her bunk, pressing the cool metal device to her temple and watching the scene materialize in front of her.

"Seems we’re early."

Daisy smiled, wishing she could get up and knock May over with the tightest hug in any timeline.

"Seems so."

"Starting the party without me?" Coulson appeared.

"It’s not a party if you aren’t here," She grinned. "I know we’re supposed to wait for everyone else, but how are you? Tell me everything."

May shrugged at Coulson in a gesture of ‘I’m not going first.’

"Things are good. I’ve got a flying car. Costa Rica is beautiful," He summarised. "I miss my kid."

Daisy felt tears well up. Damn it, she was not going to cry this early.

"Send me a postcard," She joked. "What about you, May?"

"Students are exhausting. I hate grading papers," She grumbled. "The coffee isn’t as good as the kind you used to buy."

"C’mon, there’s nothing good going on?" Coulson asked.

May gave Coulson a hard stare. "I’m not in space. Or a computed reality."

He chuckled. "At least there’s that."

The others came in soon enough, and the room seemed to shift. They were all good. They all promised they’d do this again soon. Daisy and Coulson were the last ones, after everyone else left.

"[insert their dialogue from finale],"

"I hate that this is all we get," She whispered. "We beat fate before."

Coulson went to grab her hand, then paused. They both knew she wouldn’t feel anything.

"I think," He said carefully, "We won’t ever really say goodbye. We’ve fought too hard together to be forced apart."

Daisy nodded. "Hey, AC…" She trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to know that you gave me everything. A home. I had the time of my life with our team," She let out a shaky breath. "I won’t let anyone forget you, even if you decide it’s time," Daisy choked out. "You’re family."

Coulson smiled sadly. "Stay safe out there."

She disconnected, the empty room replaced by the cluttered walls of her bunk. Her books, photos, letters all stared warmly back at her.

"They’re good," She murmured. "We’re good."

We will be remembered.

~~~~

#daisy johnson #agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d.#aos #phil coulson #melinda may #philindaisy #speak now challenge

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enchantinglyjade · 2 years

Text

Milk & Honey - Ch. 16

Austin!Elvis x Black!OC

Masterlist

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Summary: Honey finds one last chance to confess her undying love to Elvis

Warning: NSFW 18+ Character Death, loss of parents, mentions of a heart attack

NSFW Warnings: Oh boy underlying dom/sub dynamics, oral (f.receiving), breeding kink, superhero kink(???), daddy kink, perhaps a hint of mommy kink, unprotected sex

Two months passed since the day we got arrested. Dad and Pearl officially moved in, as if they weren’t already. Mama still barely talks to me, unless absolutely necessary. I was 'banned’ from seeing Elvis like I was some sort of child, but I told myself to suck it up; Dad found a new job at a factory, which meant he could help with the bills now, which meant I could start saving to move out.

Just a few more weeks, I tell myself. Just a few more weeks of pretending to be the best daughter in the world before I save up enough to afford the cheapest place I can get.

I had come to the conclusion that Pearl had called the cops on us that night, especially after the threats she had been sending. How else would they have known where we were? I lived everyday in disgust knowing I was under the same roof as that monster. Some days I couldn’t even bear being in the same room as her.

Two months passed since Elvis had been sent off to finish his basic training in Arkansas and I hadn’t spoken to him since. Things have definitely changed between us. Things are distant with everyone right now, but Elvis bothered me the most. I’d only see him on the news sometimes, but the army changed him. When he talked he’d be unenergetic, unhopeful, un-him.

Two months passed since the beginning of my loneliness, before the news came.

I go outside to check the mail, tripping over the morning paper on my way back in. I was about to have an internal fit at the damned thing, but then I see the title.

‘Heart attack takes the life of Elvis Presley’s mother’

My stomach drops and I instantly have to bite my lip to try and hold back tears. Elvis must be back home then. Do I go over to send my condolences? The last thing she got to see was her baby getting sent away because of me, would the rest of his family be upset with me? I pick it up, bringing it inside, gnawing on my lip still.

Pearl and Dad sit at the table, Ma in her room. She barely came out of there, barely spoke to Dad either. It made me feel a little better that she wasn’t just having an issue with me, but I still didn’t appreciate the things she said to me. Still, I wanted to know why she was acting so detached from everyone. Thought about asking Dad, but I couldn’t bring myself to barely talk to him either.

I stand at the entrance, reading the rest of the paper. Dad and Pearl continue talking in the background.

“I’m just glad all this boy drama’s done for good now.”

“Me too. It was so stressful seein you two up all night worried if Honey was even alive. I couldn’t imagine puttin you through that Daddy. You’re the only man I could ever love.”

“Well, thank you, Darlin. That’s sweet o’ ya.”

“I’m going over to see him.” I declare, slapping the newspaper onto the table.

They go silent. Pearl retracts her hand from Dads with a sneer from my interruption. He takes a quick glimpse at the paper before leaning back in his chair with a look of dismay. “Honey, I’m sorry to hear about that, but I thought we were done with this. Going back over there just seems like a big waste of that bail money I spent on you.”

I resist the urge to growl at him. “I didn’t ask you to do it.”

“You’d still be in there to this day if it weren’t for me.” He side eyes me, taking a drink of the orange juice in his cup.

“And I’d have a real boyfriend and a mother that spoke to me if it weren’t for the two of you showin up!”

He sets down the cup frustratedly. “Honey, it was bound to come to this eventually, he’s famous. And I know your Mama’s been actin strange, but she’s just goin through a lot, that’s all. We’re just happy that you’re finally back home, but all you keep takin bout is this boy. You got your priorities all jumbled.”

I bite my lip again, looking back down at the paper, blinking tears down my face. I know to an extent he’s right. I hate that he’s even partially right. I’ve barely practiced singing, I have a one time record, I’ve barely been home, but he should still understand. He could get put back in jail if anyone finds out he lives here, but when I do it I’m wrong. He’s been trying to creep his way back in Ma’s life despite the fact that they already got in trouble for being together once, but when I do it my priorities are jumbled.

I take a sharp breath in. “Elvis was there for me when you weren’t, when Ma wasn’t. When everyone tried to change me, he accepted me. He loved me, he cared about me, helped me when I needed him and not once made me feel guilty about the work he put in to do it cause he just wanted to see me happy. I need to be there for him.” I give him a forbidding look, so he knows there’s no changing my mind. Still he tries.

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt again. I’m sure he’s got the whole country outside his door right now. Just call him on the phone or something, stay home where we know you’re safe.”

I turn back to the door, sipping on the first pair of shoes I see. I’ve made up my mind.

“I’m telling you somethin bad’s gonna come out of goin over there!” He shouts, as I open the door.

“Daddy, how come you never get protective over me like that?” Pearl stomps away from the table, but I’m too busy to care about what argument they’re about to have, I’m already running down the sidewalk, pajamas and all. If she wants her ‘daddy’, she can have him. I’m so sick of this whole family. If they don’t wanna love me for who I am, then it’ll just be that easier to leave em!

I’m gonna march right up to Elvis and tell him just how much I love him, how much I need him. I’ll do everything I can to convince him that I finally don’t care what everyone has to say about me. I’m tired of being the realistic one that worries all day. I’m tired of caring so much about the press and these stupid laws. I don’t wanna care anymore! I just wanna love him. I wanna run away with him, dream with him, marry and have kids with him. I’ll spend 1,000 days in jail if it means I never have to stop loving him, because I’ve come too far to give up now. I want to give people like us hope, I want to show the world two people like us can love each other and ain’t nobody gonna take that from us. We’re on the edge of a breakthrough, I just know it! I just wanna be his.

I run as fast as my legs can carry me, all the way to a bus stop. I learned my lesson from last time never to try and make that walk again. I sit down in a seat, holding onto the railing tightly while I bounce in anxiety. People stare, but I’m too determined with my next goal to really even notice. I get off on the closest street I could, once again running, until I finally see that mansion in the distance. I didn’t think this through, did I?

His house is, in fact, littered with everyone and their mamas, weeping, crying, and shouting in hopes that one of the remaining family members would show their face. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here, or should have called first. How am I supposed to get in? I’ll barely be able to get through the crowd without a car, or a tank, or something!

I take a deep breath.

There’s only so much more we can lose. I just need to go for it while I still have the chance.

I begin walking into the crowd.

I slip behind, to the side of, and underneath fans and press, pushing until I make it to the front. I catch myself on one of metal music notes welded onto the gates, taking the time to rest for a moment while I continue to get bumped into from behind. On the other side stands four security guards. I scan their stern faces, looking for the friendliest one, until I see one I actually recognize.

My exhausted face brightens with hope. I scoot over to him, pushing past a few people with cameras. “Excuse me!” I yell. His eyes alone roll to glance down at me, body unmoving. “I’m Honey James. The one in the news with Elvis. I remember seeing you last time he brought me here. I’m a friend of his, and I really need to see him. Please.” I cross my fingers wishing and praying that’s enough to buy me in. His eyes squink, looking me up and down, before he walks off behind the brick fence. What does that mean? Is he letting me in? Is this a good thing? Where is he going?

“You’re Honey James?!”

I swivel around to face the voice just in time to have a bulb flash right in my face. I cover my eyes, trying to help them recover, while on the other side of my hand the flashing only gets worse. I shield my head away, pressing myself into the gate. Just then, I stumble forward, feeling my hand lose grip of the metal bars. I open my eyes to see the bodyguards opening the gate. One grabs me, squeezing me through the small opening they allowed. I hear it clank quickly behind me before the rest of the fans can pile through.

I take a deep breath, thanking them, while I watch the fans claw and shout at the gate like wild animals. Seeing them from this side was a whole different level of scary I’d never be able to get used to. Elvis has to see this every time he leaves his house?

The bodyguard walks me up to the front door. A darkness clouds over Graceland, overcasting the beauty I once saw it in. I knock on the white door nervously. Only once Vernon answers does the guard leave my side. He stays silent, waiting for me to speak. My hands begin to shake.

“I-I’m sorry about your loss, and I’m sorry for bothering you, but I was wondering if Elvis is okay and if it’d be alright for me to see him.”

He grips the door harder, swallowing while he looks down at his feet. He nods. “Maybe you can get through to ‘em.” He tilts his head back up at me, new tears brimming. He steps aside, allowing me in.

The door shutting reverberates through the otherwise soulless house clashing only with the sound of sobbing from upstairs. I could have bursted into tears right then and there knowing exactly why and from who those sounds were coming from. I gulp, looking over my shoulder to Vernon. He simply nods, egging me to go see him.

I take slow steps up the stairs, the sobbing getting louder by the inch. Standing in front of his door my anxiety peaks. My heart races as I raise my hand about to knock. Once my fist makes contact with the door, everything stops. The house goes silent.

I shouldn’t be here. It’s not my place. He probably doesn’t want to see anyone right now.

My lungs stop needing air and my heart stops beating as his nearing footsteps pound in my ears. I can almost feel his body heat from the other side of the door as we both hesitate with the thin piece of wood separating us from reuniting for the first time in two months. Then, the door opens.

Sunken, empty blue orbs stare back at me, streaming tears of desperation down his pink, puffy cheeks. The life lost in his eyes puts a hard lump in my throat. I try to swallow it down but it only gets tighter.

I stand there speechless. I thought I was going to march in here and give him some big speech about my undying love for him, but I’m quickly realizing how stupid that sounds and how I didn’t have a damn thing to say.

He notices my faltering and turns to walk over to his bed, leaving the door as it was when he was standing in it.

My breath hitches in my chest. Why is this so much harder than I thought it would be?

He sits on the edge of the bed facing me, hands dangling between his legs. I cautiously enter his room, quietly shutting the door behind me. I step closer to him. Once I’m right in front of him, I reach for one of his hands, leaving a kiss on his knuckle, before placing it over my heart.

“I’ve been thinkin bout what you said in the cell that night. Can’t stop thinkin bout it.” His deep, uneven voice starts. I immediately give him my undivided attention. “Bout how I can’t protect you from everything, and you’re right.” He sniffles. “I’m weak. You only get hurt bein around me. I need to be realistic and stop tryna be your superhero.” Shit. Baby, no. “The way your daddy looked at me that night. Your Mama looked so scared when I asked them for help. I can’t be the one gettin in the way of your family.”

I bite my lip hard, until I muster enough strength to speak. “I came here because I wanted to tell you how much I love you.” My voice cracks. I look away, composing myself before continuing. “I can’t take away the fact that we went to jail. Okay? It’s done. My family will always be disappointed in me for that no matter what I do. They’ve done so little to support me. For my whole life really. I love my mama, I appreciate everything she’s done for me, I understand why she did what she did, but I can’t just forget that she made me spend my entire childhood learning how to be white. You saw it, you were there. To this day, my own Mama can’t accept who I truly am, let alone my Dad, or Pearl.” I spit out her name. The lump comes back in my throat x10. “It’s always just been you. You’re all I have.” The words barely make it out of my mouth. I hold tighter onto his hand, still keeping it against my aching heart.

He still has yet to look at me. He puts his free hand against his forehead as if to block his view of me. He takes a deep breath. “Honey, I can’t be the man you need me to be anymore.” He says softly. “I-I got so much goin on. Everyone’s telling me what to do, who to be, fillin my head, I’m in the army now, I just- I just lost-...” He dips his head further down into his lap, sniffling. “I don’t think I can handle much anything else. I ain’t strong enough no more.”

He called me Honey. Not Bumble, not baby, not darlin. My name.

My eyes widen, not wanting to believe what I’m hearing. “Elvis, you are the strongest man I know. What are you tryna say? Because it sounds like-” I don’t even want to say it. “…like you wanna leave me.”

He takes a shaky exhale. “I ain’t got no other choice, Honey.”

My jaw hangs open and my eyes fill with tears, hopelessly searching for any signs of love left in him. No, no, no. This isn’t how I imagined this going at all. This wasn’t supposed to happen. “Yes you do! It’s Colonel that’s been filling your head, making you feel like you ain’t in control.” I run my hands through my hair, panicking.

“I can’t keep getting in trouble with the law. Honey, I have nothing.”

I drop down on my knees, trying to see his face, but he keeps blocking me. “Baby, you have me! I love you. You always say it’s us against the world. I’m not just gonna leave you when you’re hurtin most.”

He gulps, shaking his head. “Everytime we’re together somethin bad happens. I couldn’t even protect my own Mama from herself, I’ll never be strong enough to protect you from the world.”

Tear after tear runs down my face. “Elvis, please.”

“Honey, I can’t.”

“I love you!”

“They’re sendin me to Germany tomorrow!” He blurts out, bursting into tears. “I couldn’t be with you even if I wanted.” His voice muffled by his hands.

I sink further down onto my feet. “Elvis…” I whisper.

He takes his hands away from his face, finally looking at me, only to burst back into tears seconds after. “Bumble, I need you so bad.”

My pained heart swells, crying just as he is. “Can I stay one last night with you?” I reluctantly ask, but beg with my whole heart for a yes.

“Yes. Baby, please.” He nods, choking out a sob. “Please.” I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck. He helps me crawl into his lap, grabbing my thighs while I straddle him. I rock him in place, running my nails through his hair, while he cries into my shoulder.

He wraps his arms around my back, holding me close. I don’t know when or how, but eventually the rocking turns into something more…desperate, subtle, but there’s definitely a change in intention. His sobs simmer into heavy breathing and his hands drop to knead into the flesh of my ass, brushing me against his lap. After a moment, his head pops back up, tears now dried to his cheeks. He stares between my eyes and my lips. “Please.” He whispers.

Before I know it, our lips are crashing into one another’s, needy, suffering, trembling. I kiss him hard, pressing into him with my entire being, wanting to be impossibly close to him. He grabs my hips, pushing me down onto his growing hardness, making my thighs clench at the feeling of him poking in all the right places.

He pulls away, already out of breath. “Lay down, baby.” I follow his order without hesitation, climbing off of him to lay on the bed. He stands, pulling his shirt off. “Take your clothes off for me.” I quickly throw off my top, tossing it to the ground. I reach for my shorts and- “Slowly.” I reach for my shorts slowly bringing them down my legs. When they reach my feet, I toss them over on top of the shirt.

For the last article of clothing, I lay back down, propping my head on the pillow so I can still see him. He messes with his belt buckle, watching me intensely from the bottom of the bed. Sensually, I graze my hands down my stomach, past my panties, across my thighs, then back up towards the panties again. I toy with the hem, watching his eyes sharpen as he quickly begins to regret giving me that last command. Finally giving into his wishes, I pull them down, purposely squeezing my thighs together so though I was bare for him, he still couldn’t see anything. I balance them on my big toe, letting it hang in the air, before kicking them at his feet.

Still squeezing my legs together I watch as he pulls off the last of his own clothing, before crawling to me on the bed. He drags his hands up my shins, stopping at my knees. He gently attempts to push them apart, but I don’t budge. “Open up to me, baby. I wanna memorize every perfect lil part of ya.” He plants a kiss on my knee while glancing up at me, a flash of warning darting across his eyes. Like that, my legs turn to gelatin, falling apart at the slightest nudge from his pinky finger. “That’s right, mama. Open up, nice and wide. That’s a good girl.” Any bratty, hard to get attitude I had just flew out the window. I was his.

He holds my thighs in his hands, spreading them to his liking. His bloodshot eyes staring deep into my core, watching every ache and throb I have for him. Without any other warning, he dives in.

I cry out, body melting into the bed while he devours me. He licks long strips over my hole and against my clit. Each time his tongue makes contact with me my body tenses, over and over again.

“Tell me how much you love me.” He demands, breath grazing over my sensitive areas.

I moan out, closing my eyes. “Baby, I love you so much. No one- Ah! No one more than you. Everything- The way you sing, your dreams. I love when you take care of me. I love acting small and helpless, waiting for my superhero to come save me.”

What started as a game of make believe, quickly turned into much more over the course of the passing years. The playful dynamic seemed to creep up between us in nearly every aspect of life; the beautiful, defenseless princess and the strong, handsome superhero. As much as I try to prove to him how strong I can be, and as much as he knows exactly how strong I am, I’ve always loved taking the role of his princess.

He takes a slow lick. “Am I your superhero, baby?”

“Yes.” I whimper out.

He leaves a sloppy, wet, loud kiss on me followed by a moan that vibrates through my stomach and up my spine. “You want Daddy to get out of the Army and come save his princess when she’s all helpless and alone?”

“Yes!” And I really meant it too.

He groans at my answer, once again vibrating through me. He takes shameless, nearly offensive licks, eyebrows furrowing in concentration and passion. “I know why God named you Honey.” He goes to sucking on my bundle of nerves, running the tip of his tongue on it with each purse of his lips. “You tell me when you’re gonna cum, alright.” He warns.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum.” I honestly blurt out without thinking of the repercussions.

He stops.

He sits up on his knees, stroking himself while he watches me twitch and gasp for air. My legs snap back together, looking for any type of friction, but he’s quick to stop me, keeping them spread apart so my heat remains open and exposed to the cold, dead air. “Oh, no you don’t. When you cum, you’re cummin around me. I wanna feel you squeeze the life right outta me, takin everything I give you.”

I whimper, thighs clenching for stimulation, warmth, anything! “I just wanna be yours, Elvis. Please!” Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, whether from need, sadness, or both, I’m unsure.

He bends over me, using his body to separate my legs now. He creeps towards my face with a promising look. “I’ll give you what you need, mama. You know Daddy’s always gonna take care of you. I always do.” He lines himself up and pushes in, wasting no time to start moving. I gasp, throwing my arms around him, touching him anywhere my hands could reach. “Already so quick to take me, Bumble. Always so tight for me.”

Oh! I wanna stay his Bumble forever. I bury my head into him, trying to find ways to make this moment last for an eternity.

His movements gain speed, panting into my hair, before kissing me hungrily. “Gonna make you all mine, Bumble. Okay? You wanna be mine?” All I can do is nod, moan, and grate my nails into the sheets. He sits up on his knees again, pressing his hand onto my stomach while he thrusts into me causing me to thrash my head into the pillows. My legs close around his arm, moans muffling through the soft object I hide my face in.

He reaches up immediately, flinging the pillow to the other side of the room, before grabbing my jaw to face him once more. “Uh uh, look at me.” He takes each thigh into his arms, holding them taut in place. “Daddy’s gonna make you his. Only his.” Not a second longer does he wait to thrust into me as hard and fast as the position allows.

I claw into the sheets, a long ‘Ahh’ escaping my mouth, every other syllable bouncing from my lungs. A bead of sweat rolls off his brows, dropping onto my stomach as his hand wraps around my leg to flick at my clit. It’s not long before I’m thrown over the edge, back arching off the bed. I peak with tears in my eyes that continue long after I’ve come down. He grabs my hips, bringing them down to meet each of his sloppy thrusts. He only gets through a handful of more pushes, before he holds my hips flush against his. He goes mostly still, aside from small grinds every other second. I feel him throb inside of me, while he throws his head back with a groan. A warm sensation pools in the pit of my stomach, filling me and coating both of us before slowly leaking out onto the blanket below.

He looks back down at me, mouth agape and eyes blown, proud and possessive. He looks between us admiring his work, making a few small extra thrusts to push back in what had dripped out. I whimper, feeling sensitive while I continue to ride the aftershocks, clenching tightly around him.

Once we’re both panting and tired out, I pull him down on top of me, never wanting to let go and never wanting him to pull out. His body warms me and my heart, countering the coldness of the room and of life at the moment. I sniffle, crashing down hard from my high and let out a sob into his hair. “We were never meant to work, were we?”

Everytime we get so close something always has to get in the way. Our first kiss as kids, he got cold feet. When we started becoming better friends as teens, he moved away. That second kiss as adults, he went on tour. Then when he came back around, Michael got in the way. And now this. Time after time it’s been proven. It’s never going to work.

He lifts himself onto his forearm, grabbing my face to rub away my tears. “Baby, don’t cry. I’m barely strong enough to keep myself together. I can’t see you hurt like this too. I wanna remember you with a smile.”

I close my eyes, pressing into his hand with a weak smile like he asked. Still, I’m unable to accept that he was going away tomorrow. “Don’t leave me again.”

He continues to stare deep into my eyes with a weak, hopeless expression. “Baby, I wanna do everything but leave you. I thought for years bout how I’d propose to you one day. Thought about what house I’d buy for you and our babies, but every day that passes the more I realize I will never be able to give you that life. Every day is gonna be living hell for you in my world. Half my fans are upset I got a girlfriend in the first place, I ain’t never gonna be home, I’m being sent away for two years, and to top it off, everything we been doin is against the law. I can’t stand the sight of ever seein you in jail again, ‘specially cause of me. You deserve a better life than the one I’m givin you.”

He holds my face with both hands. “But Bumble, you’re my special girl, don’t never question it. You're my pretty darlin, my lil mama…the love of my life…everything. Always be.” He sighs, still staring down at my sorrow filled eyes, before giving me a deep, mourningful kiss with all his might. “I won’t never forget you, Bumble.”

I look up at his face through my tears, cherishing all his pretty little features I won’t get to see again. “I love you.” I whisper.

“I love you too, baby.”

I pull myself together enough to cuddle in his arms one last time.

As heartbroken as I was, the truth doesn’t truly settle in until I wake up the next morning. It’s colder than normal, blankets seem heavier, and the mattress feels…lighter. It’s not until I turn over in bed to find absolutely nothing that I completely lose hold of myself. My best friend, my childhood crush, my future husband, all those dreams gone. Joking together as kids, the sneaking around, singing, dancing together, the long drives, Michael, Pearl, Dixie, all of it was for nothing.

I was left with nothing.

Nothing but a small note on the pillow.

‘I’ll miss you. Always and forever. - E’

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