#my girlfriend wrote this

[brdpch]

NSFW Alphabet - Chishiya Shuntarō

my gf wrote this about manga!chishiya and let me post it hehe

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Done and gone as some would say. Probably relaxing by himself with a book.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) He likes his face and his stomach. His partners - sucker for a pretty face.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Cumming down a person's throat, or other hole, no protection.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He sometimes looms in places where he can't be seen and observes the Beach members fucking.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Experienced enough, although not participating at all lately.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) On a side or any where he could restrain someone.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) No goofiness at all, he's not a very goofy person, but if sarcasm counts he is using it a lot during sex too.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Zero hair, ass too.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) The most intimacy he can offer is a pat on the back after he's done.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Few times a week, preferably when he takes a shower - more as a habit than a means of easing the sexual needs.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) sadism, voyeurism, restriction, dominance, humiliation (of the other person), public

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Anywhere he feels horny, he doesn’t care if he is caught.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Dangerous sexy people.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Shit, piss, anal.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Likes to recieve, doesn’t like to give unless he really likes the person.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Depends on the place and a person he is with.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He actually prefers quickies to normal sex.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Yes, please.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Isn’t very athletic but he trained himself to last pretty long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) He doesn’t like toys and doesn’t own them, they complicate a simple act.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) A LOT, he enjoys the chase and being chased/teased too.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He is rather quiet but enjoys when his partners are loud.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He did the deed in the bathroom of a hospital, more than once, with different people.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Big cock, elegant balls, average ass.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Rather on the lower side.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Quickly after the deed.

#alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland drabbles #chishiya alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya headcanons #chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya imagine #aib chishiya #my girlfriend wrote this #manga!chishiya #manga chishiya #aib manga #aib smut #chishiya smut

[cryptids-and-muses]

A hilarious au idea involving Sir Nighteye

In this au, all might having a sidekick was never public knowledge, this was to maintain his image as the sole pillar of peace, and because nighteye works best in the shadows anyway.

Jump cut to 12 year old izuku meeting nighteye because reasons, I’m thinking nighteye saves him from a villain, and of course izuku BEGS him to sign his hero notebook. Here’s a hero he doesn’t recognize!! It’s so exciting!! Nighteye, upon seeing this journal, recognizes not only this kid’s talent but also how much in depth and possibly sensitive info he knows, and is like “….maybe we should keep an eye on him.”

After a bit of scoping him out, and a LOT of discussion with inko, nighteye essentially offers izuku a work study position as an analyst. The kid shows a lot of promise in that field, even if he seems dead set on being a field hero. And because nighteye’s operation is top secret, no one but izuku and inko know his after school job is at a hero agency.

Here’s where the fun starts.

Because this would not change how things play out with all might at all, he’s still offered one for all.

Izuku asks who knows about the quirk and yagi, who isn’t on speaking terms with his former sidekick who the public don’t even know he had, does not tell izuku nighteye knows about the quirk. Or even that he used to work with nighteye. Why would he? So izuku keeps this secret from nighteye and asks for reduced hours at work so he can train for UA, leaving out who he’s training with.

Meanwhile, izuku of course wants to tell all might he works with another hero, nighteye’s operation is Top Fucking Secret and izuku promised to maintain that. So at most All Might knows izuku part times at an underground hero agency, but izuku won’t tell him which one. All might finds this more amusing then anything else and respects his student’s privacy.

Nighteye still wants Mirio to be all might’s sucessor and is ENRAGED to find out he gave it to some random child he hadn’t even known a day. Refusing to listen any more.

So neither of these two idiots realize they’re mentoring the same kid.

Cue the entrance exam and izuku having to explain to nighteye that he “suddenly” manifested his quirk and nighteye is like “…..wait a minute”

I’m calling this au My Hero Custody Battle

#bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #all might #yagi toshinori #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #sir nighteye #my hero custody battle #bnha au #dad might #my girlfriend and I actually wrote out two scenes for this and they’re genuinly hilarious #all might and nighteye’s divorced energy is off the charts

[comethead]

Wrong Number

MDNI // smutfic // Jason Todd x Reader

“You accidentally take an edible laced with sex pollen, and unbeknownst to you, you called Jason instead of Ivy. Smut ensues.”

(gender-neutral reader, no use of y/n, recreational drug use, sex pollen, missionary, creampie, aphrodisiacs)

Ao3 Link

[dedicated to @fcthots ]

Your breaths come out in short puffs, sweat beading on your forehead. Your skin is on fire, and there’s an undeniable ache between your legs you can’t ignore anymore. Stripped naked, you laid on your bed, legs squeezed together to try and alleviate your burning desire. Dammit. You reach out to your phone, sweeping your hand over your sheets until your fingers make contact with the smooth surface of your screen. Opening it, you scroll down your contacts. F, G, H, I, J. You hit Ivy’s contact, and close your eyes while you let it ring. Hearing it connect, you groan, “Ivyyyy, I don’t know what was in that damn edible you made but I feel- I don’t- ugh.” You smack your bed in frustration, tears welling up from the tension in your stomach. This was embarrassing. You were high, and then horny, but now the high has worn off and you’re still trying to get off. “You know what- never mind, I’ll talk to you later.” You clicked the end call button, and rolled onto your back. Okay, time to try and finish.

Jason stared at the phone in his hand, the screen on ‘call ended’. What the hell was that about? Shit, you weren’t in trouble were you? Edible, huh… He heard from you that Ivy was dabbling in making some after growing weed, which, whatever, she’s not destroying city blocks with her plants anymore so he’ll take that any day. But by your words, it seemed like she’s up to something, he’ll have to check on that later. Or…

“Hey, Oracle. Do me a favor and look into Ivy for me?”

“Sure, what for?” came her reply.

“Mmm, well my friend took one of her edibles and-”

“Wait. Edibles? You better not be doing some stupid prank Hood, or I swear-”

“No! No, it's-,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose,”She just sounded like she was in trouble, but whatever, I’ll deal with it.”

“Oh.” He could hear through the comm link the way her voice softened, which he’s not sure if he hates or is grateful for. “Alright, I’ll send someone over to Ivy’s location.”

“Thanks.”

He shut off the link and looked over to your fire escape. Parking his bike in the alley that ran next to your place, he scaled the wall and clambered onto the escape. It was dark in your room, but you left your window open. Pulling the screen aside, Jason stepped into the room and onto the little welcome mat you put there as a stupid joke. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped.

You were on your side, moans muffled by your pillow as you worked your fingers faster, the slick noises accompanying your voice. His eyes widened, heat shooting through his body as he felt his dick twitch in his combat pants. Fuck, oh how he’s thought of you like this for some nights now. But not now, he thought, must’ve been some of Ivy’s aphrodisiac in that edible. Clearing his throat, he stepped closer. You squeal, and bolt upright, looking at him with wide eyes. “Wha- Jay, what are you doing here?”

“You called me,” he shrugged, ”Wrong number, I guess.”

You stared at him, gears turning in your brain. Maybe, maybe not ‘wrong number’. He could help you, couldn’t he? He’s always been on your mind like that, you might’ve had some unholy thoughts about your best friend.

“Jay,” you whisper, crawling on your hands and knees toward him, “Please,” you’re reaching up to his face now, settling your hand on his mask, “fuck me”.

“Uhh.” It’s his turn to stare at you, eyes trailing over the slope of your chest. “I- I mean, no, you’ve been dosed with some aphrodisiac-” You’re taking his mask off now, sliding your other hand down his chest- “And- and I can’t-”, his breath catches as your hand is placed right on top of his tummy, “-you don’t know what you want,” he finished, glancing from your hands to your half-lidded eyes.

“I don’t?” You gaze back into his eyes, looking down to his lips as you move closer, ghosting your hands over his body and placing them on his shoulders. Your lips connect, and he deepens the kiss, placing his hands on your waist. You pull him closer to you, shifting back until you can bring him down to your level, lips still on each other as he runs a hand through your hair. Your hair catches on his fingers and it pulls, but it feels so good the way he’s bringing his hand through from your scalp and grabbing a fistful of your hair at the back. You moan into his mouth as your kisses get sloppier, as he releases your hair and his hands wander down over your nude body, caressing your thighs. You don’t know if you can take it anymore. Pulling back from his kiss, you breathe,”Jay, please, I need you so badly, I- I can’t-”. You gasp as he suddenly grips your thighs and curses.

Straightening, he starts to strip as you watch, flushing as you spot his happy trail and finally, as he pulls his pants down you can see the bump of his bulge in his boxers. You rub your thighs together, scooting back onto the bed to give him space to mount you. You can see him tracing the shape of your body with his eyes, finally locking onto the wetness between your legs. Jason pushes his boxers down, letting his cock spring free and you can see he’s already leaking precum, which threatens to snap that tight band in your stomach. Throwing your head back, you moan and spread your legs for him. “Yeah,” he breathes, “Yeah I’ll fuck you alright,” as he looms over your needy body. He kneels on the bed, lining his stiff cock with your entrance and begins to push in.

“Fuuuckk, baby you gotta relax,” he moans, pressing into you slowly as your mouth gapes from how he’s stretching you open. You swear you almost cum immediately from his intrusion, but your arousal heightens as he thrusts all the way in. You cry out in pleasure, gripping your sheets and squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to fuck you, slowly at first but quickening his pace as to seeing how desperate you are. You were practically rolling your hips onto his cock until he held them still and fucked you at a punishing pace. He groaned, his ear tickled with your pleading and moaning. It felt so good, the burning feeling turned into pleasure as Jason rocked his hips into yours, and you were sure you were going to finally cum.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me aren’t you?” he moans, the sounds of your sex filling the room.

“You’re close, aren’t you baby? C’mon then,” he lowers his face towards your ear, “Cum for me sweetheart,” he whispers, and finally that tension snaps and you cry out, your orgasm forcing your eyes shut as you cream around his cock that’s still pumping hard into you. You pant as he curses and thrusts into you faster, chasing his own high until he’s spilling his cum into you, the warmth making your belly tingle. He’s panting too, as he pulls out of you and stands up, reaching over to grab a towel from your dresser. He cleans you up and you stare up at him, eyes half-lidded and the only sounds that fill the room are of you two breathing hard. You don’t talk and neither does he, and you move over on the bed to give him room as he lays next to you. He moves onto his side, propping his head up with a hand as he smirks, “Not bad, huh?”

You snort, and snuggle closer to him.

“Not bad at all, Jay.”

#mdni #this is my first smut i wrote this in one go no beta readers #i think it’d be funny if harley and ivy were stoner girlfriends. they had weed and chilled out. #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #dc smut #smut fic #sex pollen

[ash-arts-but-sinful]

Whoa sudden thought, Pinocchio being jealous because of Carlo.

No wait think about it, Carlo is confident, outgoing, but above all he’s human. Human like you. Why would you bother staying with a puppet if you could have somebody who is not only human, but looks almost exactly like Pinocchio himself.

Carlo would be well aware of the jealousy too and he’d take full advantage of it to get under his counterparts metaphorical skin. Despite the strong emotions Pinocchio may feel and how far he’s come with his adventures through Krat he still isn’t fully human, but OH can he feel those emotions and he didn’t know how strong jealousy could be.

So taking every chance he could, Carlo would throw flirtations your way. Every pick up line, any chance to touch you, every wink, every smirk, but only when Pinocchio was within sight. The annoyance on his face would be clear instantly, his eye would twitch. He’d scrunch up his face, the furrow of his brow and scrunch of nose clear along with the slightest hint of his lip curling. The worst tell would be the twitch in his legion arm would return full force.

Of course, Carlo would tell Romeo all about it, delighting in how HILARIOUS he found it and, of course again, Romeo would advise him against it. He’s seen first hand what Pinocchio is capable of and maybe pushing his buttons would get him sent through a wall at worst, getting him punched in the face at best. He’d reassure his concerned… ‘friend’, that whenever you’d reject his advances Pinocchio would calm down almost instantly.

Romeo was right though because one day he pushes it a bit too far, hand on the wall beside your head, his other hand on your chin as he gazes down at you, smirk plastered on his face. Your annoyance would be clear, but that doesn’t stop a metal hand firmly landing on Carlo’s shoulder before it’s jerking him around.

At least Pinocchio was nice enough not to use his legion arm to give him a bloody nose.

Romeo got to say ‘I told you so’ (yet again) that day.

#once again my girlfriend has inspired me to write this because she wrote something very similar the other day and oh my GOD did I love it #she truly is my inspiration I love her so fucking much #sfw #sfw text #lies of p #lies of p spoilers #Pinocchio #pinocchio x reader #Carlo #romeo #lampwick #also yes I am implying that Romeo and Carlo are boyfriends 🗣️🎙️

[danieandflars]

Okay i think it's time to go on my crazy ex girlfriend abortion rant that I've been thinking about for like 3 years.

Because i find that even in progressive media that shows abortion as good and important and normal still show it as, like, a punishment. Like the person getting the abortion has to because they behaved irresponsibly. They had sex with someone they shouldn't, or engaged in adultery, or it's a teen pregnancy. And of course, those sorts of stories should be told, because that's reality for a lot of people, but it does leave a distinct flavour of 'you did the wrong thing and now you have to be punished'

Which is why i find the abortion subplot in crazy ex girlfriend so incredible, because Paula Proctor is not the sort of character who gets abortions. She's already a mother, she has a good relationship with her husband and a stable home life. Having another child would put a strain on their finances but wouldn't be impossible. She doesn't necessarily "need" an abortion. But she gets one, because she is trying to improve her career by going to law school and having a newborn would make that so much harder. And that's it. She gets the abortion, and goes on to become a successful lawyer, and she clearly loves it, and it's clear that she made the right decision for herself and her family. She is a lot happier than she would have been if she had decided to go through with the pregnancy.

I've never seen anything like that before, but it's so important to portray abortion not as a last resort option, but just as an option.

#crazy ex girlfriend #cxgf #yes this is bc i saw that post before but I've been thinking about it for so long #abt as long as my other cxgf rant but i just never wrote it out

[stagefoureddiediaz]

When Marisol is wearing the chain necklace that spells doom for their relationship you have no choice but to cackle very loudly

#All of Buck and eddies girlfriends have worn the chain necklace of doom #I wrote about it a lot in my s6 metas!! #911 spoilers #911 abc #marisol #she is not long for the 911 world #we can wave her goodbye! #sorry for the marisol jumpscare! #she doesn't have a surname

[youallruinmylifereplacement]

So my girlfriend has been showing me Doctor Who and, naturally, I’ve made some memes about the show I feel I need to share

Me to the wasp episode

#doctor who #superwholock #can’t believe I wrote that tag in the year 2023 #is this heaven or hell #am I imprisoned by my girlfriend’s special interests #or am I free to embrace my own #and the most important question #is doctor who becoming one of them #bbc #tenth doctor #David Tennant #good omens #wasp episode

[martitheevans]

Strahm is actually kind of dumb, like he was in deep with the Jigsaw cases and when he's actually in a trap he 1) doesn't listen to the whole tape 2) does the thing he thinks Jigsaw doesn't want him to do as if that wouldn't have been thought out or has ever gone right for anybody

#the yapper yaps #my dumb squashed girlfriend <3 #I love him really #but he is stupid #i mean yeah nerves and impending doom or whatever #but come on #what if i wrote something about this maybe i like the idea #like if the roles got reversed could be interesting #I'm sure its been done before #but whatever #anyway #saw #saw movies #saw franchise #saw 5 #peter strahm #agent strahm

[to-make-yourself-known]

god pearl in hermitcraft is still an idea i'm so obsessed with

#pearlescentmoon #my art #my girlfriends voice: she looks like a scary starbucks barista #also wrote a poem because?? why not??? #hermitcraft #hermitblr #pearl #grian #also i gave her a cool new hirstyle cuz she deserves ittt #pearlescentmoon fanart #mcyt #also uh #poetry #my writing #i guess?? #hermitcraft fanart

[nolongerapileofashprobably]

I think my favorite detail is that Penn is the MOST suspicious of ‘Zelda’ like he will go “oh of course she had our safety in mind! …but why didn’t she just say that…”

I love his dedication to finding out the real story. That just. That makes my heart happy.

#as someone who wrote a long ass research paper on confirmation bias and the new age of ‘news’ #this makes me happy bc he has 100% seen these actions for what they are from a relatively unbiased perspective #and then he only ever changes his mind when Link uncovers the truth #and he will STILL make a comment bc he just doesn’t understand something about it #and link is just like ‘please my girlfriend isn’t evil I promise these scenarios are just weird’ #the legend of zelda #loz tears of the kingdom spoilers #loz totk #totk #Totk zelda #Totk Penn #loz tears of the kingdom #Totk zelink #zelink

[schizofujoshi]

"i'm afraid my email will kill me".

i say this to the doctor. he doesn't quite understand. i say it once again, with more punctuation, "i"m afraid that my email is going to kill me". he still doesn't understand. i explain further, "i feel that if i open my email app, i may open an email i have received, and i fear it may reach out of the screen and kill me".

he's starting to think he gets it, he suspects i am scared of a particular email, one i know is coming, and am avoiding. he asks me many questions to try and confirm this. but he is wrong. i am not scared of any particular email. i am scared of opening my email app. i have read enough emails to know they can scare me and they can hurt me.

he's impatient. "what makes you so afraid of your email app? what can an email really do?" and i explain it to him. that when i open an email, i invite it into my home. it wipes its boots on my doormat. i hang its coat and i store its belongings. i live five, ten, twenty, fifty old lives again, all sending emails, all replying to the chain that has lead to this iteration of this email, all at once. and sometimes i type and i laugh. and the email wants milk. and sometimes i type and i cry. and the email wants no sugar. and we spend the day displaced as splinters, recalling memories as different people, retracing emotional steps as our own respective successors. until eventually the email must leave. i will send it off and wave goodbye. i will be as one once more, and time will collapse back to clockwork, and the sun may finally set.

the doctor looks curious. "that is an elaborate description, but it sounds so pleasant. what's your issue here?" so i tell him. i tell that the last however many emails, i did not see fifty, nor twenty, nor ten, nor five of these lives. i saw one. she stood there as an outline, and within her flickered violent colours, strewn and pressed and shuffling, a cracked circle adorned her chest like a wreath. and every email, her outline slowly fills from the edges. and every email, her welcome stays longer. and every email, the sun sets slower. and i feel colder, doctor, i feel withered and dry.

and i am tired of seeing her. i am tired of the way she makes me feel. i do not want to open my email app. i do not want to remember she is waiting for me. i want the world to freeze, i tell the doctor, i want the sending and receiving of emails to stop. i do not want to see my bed lost to a stranger, doctor. i do not want to die.

#i wrote this a month ago and never posted it. on the advice of my girlfriend i have decided to post it today. #writings

[brdpch]

NSFW Alphabet - Niragi Suguru

my gf treating u with another NSFW alphabet, this time for show!niragi. let's go!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): A nice massage by a girl they just fucked, and falling asleep. B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): His muscles, his cock. In his girls he likes nice strong thighs that could suffocate him. C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): Creampies are his favourite. D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): He once fucked a girl on one of his patrols, Aguni caught them and joined. E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): Very fucking experienced. F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): Any that makes him see a face of a girl he’s fucking. G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.): Serious, incredibly serious. H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): He’s kempt there - has some hair but not that it would get in the way during oral. I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): No romance for him, just straight good ol’ fucking. J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): He never jacks-off, when he feels horny he just finds someone to satisfy him. K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): Just any that involves violence, him to act like an animal. L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): He really likes places where there is a possibility of getting caught. M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): He’s always ready to go, he doesn’t need motivation. N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Shit, sticking things inside his dick, his dick getting kicked. O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Receiving, he doesn’t like to give oral. P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.): Rough, always. Fast - not necessarily. Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): He prefers longer sex, savouring every minute. R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): Yes, always. S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): His record is about an hour without cumming but with breaks. T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): He owns a couple of cuffs, ropes - anything for restriction, cock rings. U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): A LOT, hates being teased tho. V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): Grunting, shouting, whimpering, moaning - very loud. W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): Mommy issues make him go crazy for praises like "good boy". X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): Average cock, tilted a bit to the side. Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): Very very very high. Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): Probably after the massage.

#alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland drabbles #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland #my girlfriend wrote this #aib manga #aib smut #niragi fanfiction #niragi smut #niragi x reader #niragi imagine #niragi alice in borderland #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi headcanons #show!niragi #aib niragi

[kbandtrash]

I Don't Dance (I Know You Can) (Hoshi x Reader)

~Rachel~

Masterlist

You're hopeless as a dance trainee, and dance teacher Hoshi isn't sure that teaching you will be worth it for either of you in the long run.

Content: dance teachers!Hoshi and Minghao, enemies to ?lovers?, Hoshi yells at you and apologizes, a general feeling of hopelessness about life, fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

“No. I’m done. I can’t stand her,” Hoshi huffed. “She makes no improvement and she can’t see what she’s doing wrong. I’m done, Minghao. If you want to keep her on, then you take her.”

Minghao smiled wryly. “If you can’t teach her, then no one can.”

“I don’t need to waste my time on a student that’s going nowhere.”

“But I do?”

“That’s why I’m saying we need to drop her!”

“Oh that’s very growth mindset of you,” Minghao drawled sarcastically. “I thought we believed in the potential of every student.”

“I did. I really did.” Hoshi sighed. “But there is something wrong with her.”

“I don’t know, when I sat in today, I noticed she’s actually pretty good at keeping with the beat. Her limbs are like tree branches in the wind, but they’re always in time.”

Hoshi cocked his head. “That is true,” he admitted.

“And her hands are very graceful.”

“Yes,” Hoshi agreed.

“Her facial expressions are pretty natural, too.”

“Yeah, she got that from vocal training.”

“She just got a late start,” Minghao said with a shrug. “If you keep working with her, she’ll be a pro in no time.”

“Yes!” Hoshi exclaimed, pounding his fist into his hand. “It’s not that she’s bad, she’s just inexperienced.”

It was that easy every week. However, the truth remained: you hadn’t a dancing bone in your body. Minghao just liked to watch from the sidelines, and if you ended up getting dropped, he wasn’t sure when he would find his next favorite source of entertainment.

—

“My favorite student!” Hoshi welcomed you warmly to your private lesson.

You glanced at Minghao in the back, who gave you a wink and an okay sign. “My favorite teacher?” you returned uncertainly.

“Did you review the steps we learned last week?”

You nodded energetically. “I made sure to practice every day in front of a mirror like you said.”

“Good, good!” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s start with our warm up moves.”

You moved almost like a mannequin, no fluidity in your joints. Hoshi kept his temper in check, and offered you some suggestions.

“Like this?” you asked, repeating the same clunky motion.

Hoshi smiled only because he had no other expressions left. He modeled the move. “Do it with me slowly.”

It was incredible how intently you watched him and how poorly you managed to perform on your own. If you did get it right once, it was usually pure luck.  You apologized over and over, to which he responded through his teeth with a fake cheerfulness.

When it came time for you to leave again, Hoshi managed to keep his cool, even told you that you did well today! You both knew that was a lie, but you also both knew you were giving this your all. There was just nothing to show for it week after week. For you, it was disheartening, but for him, it was infuriating.

“You did well today,” Minghao complimented Hoshi. “You didn’t even raise your voice once.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Hoshi whispered dangerously. “I’m going to snap.”

Minghao smiled and prepared his next lecture on positivity.

—

“Get out.”

“Hoshi, I told you—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’ve wasted my time for too long.”

“I’m trying so hard!” you begged. “I promise I’ve been practicing every day and I felt like I had made improvement!”

“You’re just as miserable as the day you walked in here. We need to reconsider the future of your lessons with us.”

“Hoshi,” Minghao interjected. “I didn’t want to bring this up again, but we’re getting paid twice our usual rate from her company.”

“It’s not worth it anymore,” Hoshi said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know why you bothered trying to learn if you had no talent to back it up.”

“I don’t know either!” you fired back. “I just wanted to sing and play my instrument, but the president said I wasn’t worth anything if I couldn’t dance. Guess he was right.”

You stormed out of the room and grabbed your bag on your way out. Minghao could have sworn he heard you choke back a sob as the door closed.

Hoshi immediately felt hollow inside. He had never messed up like this, and there was no way to take back his words. It wasn’t that he really believed you weren’t worth the time, but he had never had a student learning this slowly, or this late in life, or…

…It was all excuses in the end. No matter how frustrated he got, he shouldn’t have snapped in your face.

He squatted on the floor with his head in his arms. “Why did I do that…?” he mumbled. “I’ve never…never talked to anyone like that before.”

“I don’t know, but you need to apologize immediately,” Minghao said, standing up and pointing at the door. “Go and find her now.”

Hoshi looked up at Minghao through his arms. “And what am I going to say, that what I said wasn’t true? I’m not going to keep lying to her about any potential she has.”

“Are you stupid?” Minghao said exasperatedly. “She thinks she’s worthless because she can’t dance. She can’t dance, that much is obvious, but she’s not worthless. You get your butt out that door and tell her that.”

Hoshi stood up again and started pacing. “If you know what to say, then why can’t you go and say it?”

“I’m not the one that just told her she wasn’t worth my time.”

Smashing his head into the floor seemed like it would be a better option. Hoshi felt terribly guilty, but apologizing to your face felt like lying to you. Agreeing to keep you on also felt like lying to you. He felt more guilty about lying to you about your dance potential than about hurting your feelings.

He still stomped out the door to try and follow you anyway. His head swirled with words that he was supposed to say, but still felt like lies meant to satisfy you temporarily. Wouldn’t it be best for you in the long run if you quit?

You really hadn’t gone far—you hadn’t even left the building. He should have known that you would have to wait for one of the trainee managers to come pick you up, and the lesson wasn’t supposed to be done for another ten minutes. You were sat on the floor in a hallway to the side of the main route to the entrance.

The light of your phone screen, too close to your face, gave you away. He could see you were staring at a message you hadn’t quite sent yet, and he could also see the drying tear tracks down your cheeks.

“You’re not worthless,” he said, and you flinched as he sat down next to you. He noticed you quickly lock your phone and hide it away from him. “I’m the worthless one if I say something like that to one of my students.”

“No, I’m just deluding myself,” you said dejectedly. “I’m not sure why I thought I could make it in this industry if I couldn’t dance.”

Hoshi scrunched his mouth as he tried to think of something to say that both made you feel better and didn’t make him feel dishonest. He kind of agreed with what you said, but he couldn’t say that. “Dancing isn’t everything,” he shrugged. “Half the trainees these days only know how to dance, and they can’t hardly hold a pitch.”

“At least they can learn to rap. There’s no replacement for dancing.”

You needed to stop saying things that were true, or Hoshi was going to have to leave you in your misery. He gulped. “You have your visual going for you, at least, right?” he tried.

That was a weird thing to say, apparently. You looked at him like he had said that summer wasn’t hot enough. “I’m not supposed to be a visual.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Could have fooled me,” he said as nonchalantly as he could. 

That was weird. He definitely thought you were supposed to be a visual, maybe even above vocals. Now that he tried to remember why he thought that, he realized no one had told him—he’d just assumed. It wasn’t personal bias, was it?

“Maybe you should just switch companies,” he suggested. “But you shouldn’t give up on your dream.”

“No one’s going to debut a girl band,” you said. “Or a soloist who can’t dance.”

“So why are you trying if you don’t think anyone will debut you?”

You looked away from him, in the direction he thought your phone might be. “That’s what I’m asking myself, too.” He didn’t say anything, and you waited long enough to feel awkward if you didn’t keep talking. “Why can’t I just give up and move on?”

—

“It’s too tragic, Minghao,” Hoshi lamented from the floor of the studio. “Who ever said you had to dance to be a good musician?”

“Public opinion,” Minghao answered succinctly, scrolling through his phone from the chair in the corner.

“And that’s the only thing that matters?”

“Uh, yeah.” Minghao blew a stray hair out of his face, not looking up from his phone. “That’s kind of the whole point of the entertainment industry.”

Hoshi turned onto his back, now spread-eagle. “That’s dumb.”

“And? What are you going to do about it?”

What was Hoshi going to do about it? He couldn’t do anything about public opinion, he couldn’t do anything about your dancing skill, and he probably couldn’t do anything about your company’s opinion, either. There wasn’t really anything he could do.

Hoshi took too long to answer, so Minghao finally glanced up from his phone to see him staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Are we dropping her? Are we keeping her on? Are we going to try and convince her people to let her go in a different direction?”

“Have you ever thought about teaching a ballroom dance class?”

Minghao actually set his phone down out of sheer confusion. He blinked and shook his head, sure he hadn’t just heard what he thought he’d heard. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, it’s not like it’s going to actually help, but it might be a fun way to pass the time until she makes her decision.” He paused. “Or the company makes it for her.”

“I’m still stuck on the last thing you said—ballroom?” Minghao asked incredulously, sitting forward. “You’re not actually thinking about ballroom.”

Hoshi shrugged and looked at Minghao from the floor, upside-down. “It’s more fun than trying not to pop a blood vessel every week.”

“We’re a K-pop dance studio,” Minghao said. “What is her company going to say when they find out you’ve been teaching her ballroom?”

“At least it’s something,” Hoshi replied, flipping back onto his stomach. “And at least I can lead.”

—

You were used to Hoshi touching you to correct your position, but not like this. It wasn’t even that he was too close because there was actually a considerable amount of space between the two of you and he had probably been closer before. This just felt so…intimate.

His hand was on your waist, your hand was on his shoulder, and your other hand was held in the air by his. You had only seen this stuff in western period dramas and cartoons. Only when you did it, you didn’t really feel like high society in your sweatpants.

“Feet together,” he instructed, modeling for you. “I’m going to teach you a box step.”

You put your feet together, tapping the rubber sides of your shoes together. “Like a jazz square?”

“No. Well, maybe. Yes, but not really.” He let go of your hand momentarily to fix his hair. “Don’t worry about it. First, you’re going to step back when I step forward.”

He picked your hand back up from where you let it drop to your side. He moved his left foot forward, so you moved your left foot backward.

“Nope, try again. Like a mirror,” he said. “My left foot, your right foot.

You reset to try again. He stepped forward with his left foot, and you moved your right foot back. He froze, so you didn’t make another move.

“Good! Next, move your left foot down so it’s level with your right foot, but shoulder-width apart.”

“Huh?”

He swept his right foot up in an arc to its next place. “Like that, but back. Make your feet mirror mine.”

You tried to follow his fancy arc, but you must have curved it the wrong way. It felt awkward, even though your feet ended up in the right place. “That can’t be right,” you worried.

“Hmm, not quite,” he agreed. He let go of your hand and your waist, so you took your hand off his shoulder. He stood next to you, his hands still up as if you were across from him. “Copy me.” He stepped his right foot back. “One.”

You left your arms down and stepped your right foot back. “One.”

“No, no, keep your arms up. One,” he said, demonstrating the first step again.

Fighting back a sigh, you held your arms up as instructed and took another step back. “One.”

“Good, now two,” he said, sweeping his left foot back and across.

This time, the curve of the path felt much more natural. “Two.”

“See? Not so hard,” he encouraged. He picked up his right foot and placed it down next to his left foot. “Three.”

You copied him once more. “Three.”

“Okay, great! That was the first half,” he explained. “The second half is the same, but forward.”

You scrunched your eyebrows, watching both your feet and his. “Right foot forward?”

“Mirrored and forward,” he corrected himself. “It’s called a box step because we make a box with our steps. Left foot forward—one.”

“One,” you repeated, setting your left foot in front of you heavily.

“Keep your arms up,” he reminded you, pushing your elbow back up.

“What’s the point if you’re not even there?”

“To keep proper form. Now right foot up and shoulder length apart for two.”

You stomped your right foot up. “Two.”

“Stay light on your feet; it’ll help you move. Then feet together again for three.”

Much lighter, you brought your left foot back over. “Three.”

“And that’s the other half. Easy, right?” He looked at you expectantly.

You returned his smile with a grimace. “Simple and easy are different.”

To your surprise, he laughed at that. As in, it seemed genuine and not forced. “Alright, touché. Let’s try it a couple more times side by side and then we can try it together?” he suggested.

It was hard not to accept with his enthusiasm back up like the first few times he had taught you. Maybe he was like this because he had to care much less about your performance and more about making sure you had fun.

You mirrored him a few more times through the steps, with less separation between the steps every time. Just when you felt like you had it, he decided it was time for you to dance together again. You could already feel the six steps shuffling their order in your mind.

Once again, his right hand was on your waist, your left hand was on his shoulder, and your other hands were intertwined. There was a respectable distance between the two of you, still, but it felt like this was the closest you had ever been. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you sure hoped he couldn’t hear it.

“Go ahead and watch your feet if you have to, but just for now,” he warned you. “You’re going to have to look up sooner or later.”

You snapped your head up faster than you could think. “At what?”

“At me.”

The actual distance between you might not have changed, but boy, oh boy, did it feel like it shrank to almost nothing.

He must have felt it, too, by the way his ears started to flush pink. “I mean, traditionally, you look at your partner in ballroom dance,” he clarified unconvincingly.

You nodded, deciding to believe him rather than make this any worse than it was for you. 

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded again. “Okay, I start forward with my left foot, and you…” He picked up his left foot and froze, waiting for your move.

If he was going to step forward, you would have to move if you didn’t want him to step on your toes. “I step back with my right foot.” You took the step, and he followed through with his.

“Next?”

“I move my left foot to the other corner?” You weren’t guessing, but you still marked uncertainty in your tone.

“Good—let’s try it.” His foot followed yours up to the next point. “Excellent. And then?”

“Feet together.” You didn’t wait for him to confirm this time, but he still moved in time with you. “And then…left foot forward.” It was like his foot moving backward pulled yours forward into place. “Right foot up…and feet together again.”

“That’s it! Keep going.”

You could start to see what he meant by leading and following. You were moving at the same time, but it was a bit like your feet were attached with strings and dowel rods. As you stopped narrating each step, he began to count softly and bounce into each step.

“One, two, three, one, two, three—see how you can shift your weight and make it smoother?” he interrupted himself. “Try to keep the weight on the balls of your feet.”

You were taken aback at how simple the change was, but how much more elegant it made you feel. He kept counting softly, and it felt natural when he started leading you to turn a bit with each step.

He did stop you after a few more rounds, but for once, it wasn’t to point out a mistake in frustration. It was instead to congratulate you on your success.

“Shall we try with some music?”

“Is it going to be fast?”

“Not much faster than we’ve already been doing,” he reassured you. “It’s not a hard dance to speed up, though.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you snickered. “You literally dance for a living.”

“No, I teach dance for a living. Big difference,” he emphasized jokingly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and a few moments later, some music came over the speakers. “Which means that I know you won’t have a hard time with this. Ready?”

Tuning into the music, you started to count in your head. Hoshi was right—it wasn’t that much faster than you had already practiced. It might have even been a little slower.

“For once, I think I might be.” You straightened your back, but you kept your eyes on your feet.

“Excellent! I’ll count us off. Which foot first?” he quizzed you.

“Um…” You went over it in your head. “My right, your left.”

“And you didn’t even phrase it as a question this time,” he said, genuinely praising you. “Ready? One, two, three, ready, set, go!”

It felt like magic. Really, it did. For the first time in your life, you were moving in rhythm with the music, and combined with the music, you were understanding how the two worked together for the first time, too. Eyes on your feet, it really almost felt effortless.

It felt even more like a period drama now, and you felt a little more like you belonged.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Hoshi commented.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing it,” you agreed.

“What if you try to look up now?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know. I think the only reason this is working is because I can see my feet.”

“Just try,” he encouraged you. “Trust your feet for a second.”

You glanced up and back down, and then raised your head. Earlier he said you were supposed to look up at him, right? You could try.

So you looked up and found his face right in front of yours.

Funnily enough, he was right in telling you to trust your feet; they kept moving in the correct pattern even though your brain was totally short-circuiting. You felt close enough to count all his eyelashes, which was easier with his eyes widened like that.

He was surprised, too—he wasn’t expecting your proximity to shrink like that. However, he kept moving just as you did, too stunned to break eye contact or try to widen the gap.

Minghao dropped something on the floor in his corner, snapping you out of your trance. Hoshi glanced over your shoulder to see what was up, but his eyes were back on you in record time.

You cleared your throat as your senses were returned to you. “I’ll just…look at the wall or something,” you mumbled, trying to look like you were absentmindedly staring over his shoulder rather than fixating your gaze purposefully away from him.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” he tried to brush you off casually. “That was my fault. I promise it’s not as awkward if we’re talking.”

So he was admitting that just happened, and it was awkward. Cool.

Your eyes flickered back over to meet his, which were now much more relaxed, but you ultimately stayed looking away from him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded in one fluid, dramatic motion. “Promise.”

Once again, he was right. He didn’t make you look at him right away, but once he started talking to you, asking about your instrument, what you liked about making music, how your grades were in high school, the makeup products you used, even the color of your toothbrush (what?), it was natural to look at him. The distance didn’t grow back, really, but it became comfortable.

After a while, and probably more than a couple songs worth of talking, he stopped you. “One more thing we’ll practice today,” he introduced.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” you asked suspiciously.

Minghao snorted from the corner. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” he asked himself in a voice that he only meant for himself to hear.

“No more bad feelings!” Hoshi demanded. “You already learned to waltz, so let’s just add a little trick. I’ll teach you how to spin.”

Minghao narrowed his eyes at the two of you. He glanced at the clock and decided that while, sure, there was enough time to teach you this, it wasn’t part of the original lesson plan. He was right about the bad feeling. Hoshi didn’t look at just anyone like that.

#headcanon (i say as it's my story that i wrote) but i like to think she debuts as a soloist with a specialty in ballroom-style choreography #or hoshi starts a social media something and has a series called teaching my girlfriend how to dance and they just giggle the whole time #seventeen #hoshi #svt #hoshi x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #kwon soonyoung #svt hoshi #seventeen hoshi #hoshi seventeen #hoshi svt #svt soonyoung #soonyoung x reader

[konakoro]

The absolute funniest possible outcome for Sam's evil arc being him legitimately thinking Supe supremacy is a good idea, and says as much to Emma, only to see her give him the saddest most disappointed look he's ever seen in his life and immediately changes his mind

#gen v #gen v spoilers #he so deeply cares about what emma thinks of him that i can see him immediately changing his mind because Girlfriend Is Sad #i don't think this will happen but it is the funniest option and i kinda want it to happen #edit I FUCKING SPELLED SUPREMACY WRONG - in my defense i wrote this at 1am after drinking an entire bottle of wine #I'm surprised that's the only thing i spelled wrong

[lliminall]

fear will change us

[yandere!feitan x reader]

word count: 2.7k

tags: she/her reader, yandere, violent character death (not reader), kidnapping, feitan fucks shit up for you

You suppose it was only a matter of time before Feitan’s reputation bled into and infected your own life.

Well. Beyond what it had done to you already. You were hoping the first time you stepped out of his home in months would be under much different circumstances. Maybe you would finally outsmart him, or maybe some brave hero would come and scoop you up out of his hold, like one of those Hunters you hear about.

Feitan had reminded you more than once that your luck just wasn’t enough for wishful thinking like that.

The night is hot, sticky. Your thin nightclothes cling to your skin as you try fretfully to sleep, with little success. You had only just started to drift off when the sound of a heavy boot splintering the front door rips you from your sleep. Bolting upright in your bed, skin prickling despite the heat, you listen as those heavy boots and more make their way to your room and throw open your door as well, shining lights in your face, pinning your arms behind your back, asking you in a grating voice what a bitch like you is doing with a monster like him.

Feitan is not home. He was supposed to be, sometime tonight, but there are men in your room with hands fisted around your wrists who Feitan would not have hesitated to kill, and the fact that they are standing means that you’re alone in this. It’s a cruel testament to your horrible, horrible luck that the one time you want him he is nowhere to be found.

The man holding your wrists pulls you to your feet in front of him and pushes you out of your room, through the house where there’s another man waiting in the hallway, another by the hole where the front door used to be, and another waiting in a car outside. Four in total. They shove you into the waiting car and the locks click into place behind you, leaving you alone with the man behind the wheel. In the rearview mirror, your eyes meet his, and they do not quite have the same cold edge that Feitan’s have. You think that they’ve underestimated him. You think that, if he were here, he would have all of their heads. But he isn’t, and you’re locked in a strange car, and the other three men outside are deliberating over something while you shake in the backseat.

It occurs to you then that they didn’t come for Feitan at all. They had come for you. It makes sense, you suppose. You must be one of the only constants in the man’s life, soft and weak and easily broken. For someone as powerful as him, as intimidating to approach, it would be a fruitless endeavor to even try to cause him harm.

To hurt you instead must be the next best thing.

The passenger door swings open and one of the men slides into the seat.

“Chris wants to check the basement,” he says to the other. “See if there’s anything left from Ash.” The man in the driver’s seat scoffs.

“Like that prick would bother to keep anything from his victims. You know how many people these guys kill?”

The passenger raises a hand in surrender. “Chris’s vendetta, not mine. And besides, the spider won’t be back for another few days. I’ve had my guy keeping tabs on him.”

At that, your breathe hitches. Days until Feitan gets back? Are they wrong? Did Feitan lie to you about his return date? It wouldn’t be the first time. You think of all the things these men could do to you in that time, the distance they could take you, further from Feitan, further from your own only hope. Wet heat prickles behind your eyes and you bite your cheek to keep it from spilling over.

“Tell him to hurry up at least,” the driver grumbles. “I don’t want to be here any longer than we have to be.”

And maybe your luck isn’t so terrible after all, because the moment the man closes his mouth, he and his partner are sitting bolt straight in their seats, eyes trained on the house, sensing something you can’t see, as if they’ve felt a shift in the energy around them. Whatever is there, they don’t like it, and the enemy of your enemy is probably your friend, right?

“Is that Chris?” the driver asks.

“Fuck no, I know his aura.”

“Then it’s Rick?”

“There’s two signatures and I only recognize one of them.” Panic has begun to bleed into the men’s voices, the driver’s hands tightening around the wheel.

“I thought you said you had tabs on the spider?!”

A window shatters, the sloppy figure of a man scrambling through. His focus is locked on something inside, and you watch as he rips a gun from the holster on his hip and unloads it into the house. Faster than your eyes can track, something small and dark flies through window and connects with the man’s hand, and he drops the gun with a shout as blood sprays.

He leaps away from the window, moving faster than any normal human should be capable of, and plants his bleeding palm on the ground. The earth around him shifts and breaks, and your breathe seizes as you watch three dark shapes claw out of the dirt, inky black and snarling with sharp teeth. They look like dogs, you think, and at an order from their master they growl like them, too.

Through the splintered front entrance, another figure emerges, stalking through with the nonchalance of a predator whose victory is ensured. You recognize the bandana around his neck, the eyes with the steel-cold edge your captors lack, and your heart races with hope. You’ve never been happier to see him. You’ve never been happy to see him at all, until now.

He steps into the glow of the headlights. There is blood on hands.

The car lurches. The men in front of you who’ve made no movement or sound are finally driven to action, driven by their fear, and your gut twists with nerves again as the car reverses down the driveway at reckless speed. Feitan’s gaze flicks to yours, and you plead with him, beg him with your eyes to please, please help me.

The dogs lunge at him and the car swerves onto the road. Feitan disappears behind the tree line. You are alone again.

“What the fuck are you doing!” the passenger cries. The driver’s hands are white-knuckled on the wheel. He doesn’t respond.

“I said what do you think you’re doing?! Turn around!”

“Like you were jumping out to fight him?!” the driver responds. “They’re dead, Sean, I’m not getting murdered for some other guy’s revenge scheme!”

“So you’re leaving him to fight that guy alone? We agreed to do all this together.”

“If you’re so eager to get your head chopped off, why don’t you jump out and run back to him?” the driver spits. Sean bristles, and his mouth snaps shut. His eyes betray his every thought as he considers it, considers running back to his friend who is certainly in a losing fight, and risking his own life for it. You watch the guilt settle in as he realizes he isn’t going to do it.

The drive is quiet for miles, save only for the rumble of the car flying down the dirt roads, and you are trembling with fear. Will Feitan find you? Are you even worth the effort to him? If your captors believe their friends are dead, how much more reason will they have to take all of their grief out on you? That prickling heat from before begins to build in your eyes again, but you don’t dare make a sound. If you sob, they will hear you, and if they hear you they’ll remember that you’re there, waiting for them to exact their retribution on.

The glow of the headlights casts a road sign into view ahead. TWENTY MILES TO SAVANNAH, it reads. It’s the first you’ve heard of the town. Feitan had never allowed you even the slightest idea of where he’d taken you. Now you know that he’d hidden you in the middle of nowhere, in the thick of the darkest woods, and it still had not been enough to keep you there. You had always assumed it was more to keep you from getting out than to keep anyone else from coming in.

You are halfway across the distance to the town when the silence is broken.

“Pull over,” Sean says.

“You’re joking. You want to go back now?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Sean says, his voice beginning to waver. “God, we just left them there. We’re fucking nen users and we ran like pussies. Pull over.”

“I’m not turning around just to die with the rest of them,” the driver growls.

“I said pull over!” Sean reaches for the steering wheel and the car swerves as they grapple for control. The driver slams the breaks, grinding the car to a halt in the middle of the road, your arms flying out in front of you to brace against the front seat.

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think you can take that guy!”

“We all agreed to this, we all knew the risk going in! That was your friend and you don’t care that you left him?!”

“I care that I’m alive and not strapped down in that motherfucker’s basement, and I’m not about to let that change!”

The arguing continues, and not once does either man glance back at you. You wonder if you could leave now. Throw the door open, take off running, make it to that town 10 miles down the pitch black road. You think again of the man who pulled dogs out of the dirt, of the way the men in front of you sensed Feitan before you could see or hear him, and you think that you would never stand a chance against them. A single bad move could be the tipping point that convinces them you’re not worth the trouble of being kept alive.

As if sensing your thoughts, Sean’s eyes flick to yours. They are frantic with adrenaline, and your blood chills as you freeze in your seat.

“Fine, stay here,” he growls. “I’m going back for that prick and I’m bringing this bitch with me. We’ll see how much he cares about her when I cut her fucking throat in front of-“

The words die on his tongue, and both men whip their heads to the driver’s window for only a second before something collides with the driver’s door, crashing into the car with enough force to send it rocking onto its side wheels. The door dents under the pressure before it’s ripped off the hinges altogether.

There is no time to react. A hand slices through the dark, plunging through the drivers neck with a sickening wet noise, crunching through bone and tendons. Behind the dying body, your eyes meet the gaze of his killer, piercing straight through you above the hem of his bandana. They are wild, frenzied, spattered with blood. It drips from his head, soaking through his clothes, the remnants of the man in front of you and his two dead friends. You don’t dare move.

The passenger seat collapses back and Sean lunges for you, catching you by the arm and yanking you into his chest as he dives into the back seat. The sharp edge of a blade presses into your neck.

“I’ll kill her,” he says, and his voice shakes. “I swear to god, I kill her right here. Just get out and don’t move, or I’ll-“

Before you even register him moving, Feitan is on top of you, fingers curled around the blade at your throat, his other hand disappearing behind your head as that sick crunching noise comes again, this time from directly behind you. As soon as you’ve heard it, liquid heat pours no down your back, soaking through your clothes and dripping down your spine. You gasp and press yourself into Feitan, away from the bloody spray, but you’re met with more blood as your face meets the soaked fabric of his shirt. The smell is sharp and metallic. His chest heaves under your cheek.

You look up at him, and his eyes are fixed firmly on yours. They’re wild still, and his breathing is ragged and heavy. There is no other car outside. You realize, with no small amount of wonder, that he ran to you.

The knife clatters to the floor, and you catch sight of thin red lines along his fingers before he grips your chin between them and turns your head from side to side, eyes trailing over your cheeks, your neck, every inch of you. Inspecting you.

“They-they didn’t hurt me,” you say in a wavering voice.

His eyes have locked onto your lap, and you glance down to see what’s caught his attention. Bruises on your wrists. The men had dragged you out of the house.

You begin to cover them up, hands rubbing over them and feeling the ache you hadn’t noticed before. Feitan nudges them away, fingers ghosting over the purpling marks. He leaves bloody smears behind, traces from the cuts in his hand where he blocked the blade threatening your life. You let out a shaky breathe.

When he’s satisfied that you’ve sustained no other injuries, he nods towards the other end of the seats. You crawl past him obediently, not once turning to look at the body slumped against the window behind you.

You hear the door open and the thud of something solid hitting the ground, and the noise repeats on the driver’s side in front of you. When he’s cleared the bodies out, Feitan comes to stand in front of your window. You sit on your heels as he opens the door and move to get out, swinging your legs over the edge of the seat, but he doesn’t step aside to let you pass. Your face is level with his chest again. His eyes are calmer now, meeting yours with the dull hint of something you can’t quite recognize. Fatigue? Frustration? No.

…Relief?

Mindlessly, you collapse forward into his chest again. You realize you have not stopped trembling. Your breathing is too shallow, your legs too boneless to stand. His fingers card through your hair, and your mind blanks as you realize that he’s petting you. Comforting you.

Tears sting at your eyes for the third time that night, and your hands come up to fist in his shirt. This time, you don’t bother to stifle them down. You sob, openly, into his chest, feeling his sticky fingers catch and stumble through your hair. He’s getting you dirty. There’s blood drying down your spine, soaking into your clothes that cling uncomfortably to your skin. You don’t care. You cry and he doesn’t mock you for it.

His hand comes to rest on your back and you take that as your cue to pull yourself together. You sniffle one last time and take deep breathes into the metallic scent of his clothes.

“Can-can we go home now?” you ask quietly. He nods above you and moves to let you out. You don’t stop to think that the home you’re asking for is the locked box you’ve been praying for escape from.

Home, not prison. Home, not hell.

You climb into the passenger seat, the only one not soaked with blood, and Feitan slides in next to you. His phone is in his hand, and you see the name Shizuku at the top of his messages before he shuts it off. He turns around, starts back in the direction of his house, away from that town waiting miles away, and away from the bodies behind you. You look back at them then.

They are piled in the ditch by the road. He hasn’t bothered to hide them, and you wonder how he can be so confident that they won’t be found and investigated. Your thoughts are cut short when you notice the bloody stumps of their arms in the grass.

Your hands grip the marks on your wrists again, reigniting that dull ache.

Their hands have been severed. Lying several feet away from their bodies are the hands that touched you, hurt you, took you.

You turn back around in your seat and say nothing. The ride home will be quiet. Feitan will not look at you, and when you get home, neither of you will mention the bodies or their missing hands.

You’ll both be happy to leave certain things unsaid.

#I wrote this whole thing in like one long feverish haze I was possessed #sometimes u are a horrible man who stabs people for fun until your girlfriend gets snatched #and then you become a horrible man who stabs people for /necessity/ and that is ok #simp feitan is still in the works I just had to get this out of my brain #feitan.ll #hxh.ll #feitan #hxh #feitan x reader #yandere feitan #my works.ll

[kshkshks]

WHATEVER. *gets rid of your issues*

magnolia makes home decorations to pass time on a summer evening.

tags: fluff, sfw, romance, magnolia x dove, everything’s good! au, they’re all british suddenly (not sure how that happened).

830~ words.

.˚: ⁎⁺･｡✽˚.: *⁎ ﾟ

peachy yellow sun rays were filling the terrace, licking the rails, falling on the table, the floor, creating a patchwork of light and dark. magnolia was sitting in her armchair, padded by pillows on all sides. she frowned as she pulled a string through the stitches. it’s supposed to be a toy horse. a simple pattern, two identical cutouts sewn together, filled with some scrap fabric and dried herbs. those sat on the table next to her, prepared beforehand. she already meticulously pinned the tiny pieces of cloth together, and now was attaching them to each other, conducting even more care.

with a muffled noise the door to the porch opened. someone softly walked up to magnolia and tried to peek at the work in her hands from behind. they were unsuccessful, as the chair’s back was taller than them by a good four inches.

— mum, what’s the thing you’re making?

magnolia glanced at her son, who was now standing next to her with a curious expression on his face.

— a toy. it’s a pony.

mint nodded frantically. — and what’s that in the punnet? smells nice.

— filling.

— ...like for a dumpling?

magnolia couldn’t think of an answer.

— can i play with it when it’s done? oh, can i give it a name? maybe it should be dumpling. herb dumpling… that’s a teabag!

magnolia raised one brow slightly and stared in the forest outside of their small house. some bird leaped from one tree to another and chirped a brief tune. the dark green, teal foliage was softly swaying in the breeze.

— you can. but afterwards i would like to hang it near a window, so it smells nice in the room, alright?

— sure thing! mum, i’ll go grab a chair for myself, i’m going to sit with you while you work! — mint rushed away, inside the house, the little sprout on the top of his head bouncing in a funny manner as he did so.

she sighed quietly and looked at the trees again. now that she got distracted, she remembered wanting to drink something. a good cup of tea would be nice right about now.

in her opinion, summer evenings are best spent quietly tending to your interests, bonus points if the people who’re dear to you are near. then stargazing when it gets late enough; a clear sky far away from the city lights really is the greatest.

suddenly, she felt a light touch on her shoulder.

— magnolia... i brought you some tea with biscuits.

magnolia turned her head to the side and saw dove holding a small tray with a kettle, three cups, and a saucer with bourbons.

she put the tray on the table and leaned down to kiss her wife. immediately, magnolia felt something warm flood her stomach, and legs, and arms, something fuzzy fill her head and make her shut her eyes.

…

— mint, you really should put something warmer on, it’s getting chilly. — dove already straightened up and was reprimanding mint, who just entered with a stool in his hands.

— but mom! i’m not a tiny boy anymore, i won’t get sick so easily!

— right. yes, you will. you can take the blanket from the couch and have it over yourself while you’re outside, that would be fine enough.

mint didn’t make a sound, but magnolia just imagined how he’s pouting, as if deeply offended by someone caring for him.

— thanks. — she took one of the cups, waited for dove to pour the golden tea in it, and took a sip.

— it’s very nice.

dove smiled softly, a twinkle lit up in her blueish grey eyes.

she leaned on the table, half sitting on it, and turned her head to the setting sun, barely visible behind the thick greenery.

mint came back to the terrace, now wrapped in a light purple knitted blanket. being careful not to trip on it, he walked up to his mums and attempted pouring himself some tea. dove immediately sprang up, ready to help, but magnolia was able to hold her hand back.

mint battled the heavy blanket for a minute but, soon enough, there were two more cups filled with the hot, steaming drink.

— thank you. — dove smiled again, and magnolia unintentionally got lost looking at her.

— so, how’s the horse coming along?

magnolia was pulled back to the real time.

— i’m almost done, just need to add the insides… and attach a string. for hanging.

dove picked up one of the teacups and a biscuit.

— we’ll stay with you while you’re on it.

magnolia involuntarily grinned, more with one side of her face than the other.

…

— also, hey, magnolia?

— hm?

— i love you.

— love you too mummy! — mint turned from fidgeting with the blanket and blinked at magnolia.

now the entirety of her face was suffused with ruddines.

— love you too,

#symbiosis spicaze #symbiosis fanfic #symbiosis spicaze fanfic #sfw fanfic #symbiosis fluff #magnolia x dove #magnolia & dove #magnolia faragher #dove symbiosis #mint faragher #i’m european i hope this isn’t too jarring to british people. #never wrote a fanfic before. #dedicated to my girlfriend monards.