#I don’t think I’ll bloom him but I’m so happy and relieved!!!!!

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Hunt pt. 1

Read on AO3.

Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Alastor x Reader (reader is afab, uses she/her pronouns.) Date nights in Hell are done a little differently, especially when you're dating The Radio Demon.

Trigger warnings: Canon typical violence. Reader and Alastor in Hell for a reason. Horror with some twisted romance.

Today had been a particularly drab day.

Acid rain had been falling all afternoon and Pentagram City was shut down because of it. And you could feel yourself shutting down as well.

These bad days used to fall on you much more often. Back when life was simpler and less stimulating. When there were less options to hyper fixate on and stimulate those delightful hormones that didn’t always help you to feel happy but allowed you to . . . feel.

But today you felt that numbness creeping in; a slithering, creeping, darker cousin to boredom. You were so tired and every forced smile and polite reply aimed at the other hotel residents drained your battery little by little by little by little . . . .

You were on your fifth cup of coffee that afternoon, the bitter caffeinated beverage the only thing left that seemed to cause any kind of chemical spark in your dead gray matter, but unknowingly, you had stopped sipping it several minutes ago. Rather, you were just mindlessly staring down into it, watching the little tendrils of separated creamer swirl around the top. At least it was far more interesting than anything else going on in the lobby.

“Are we having a bit of a . . . down day?” Alastor’s voice said remarkably close to your ear and you jumped, turning to find him bent over at his waist, his head right next to yours.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, turning away from him.

He had pampered and fussed over you too many times on days like these, even when – no, especially when they became so bad you couldn’t get out of bed. But things were different now; since his return to Hell, Alastor was busier than ever and you didn’t want to bother him. The guilt would be worse than the emptiness you were currently struggling with.

“I think not,” came his sing-song reply and you shut your eyes against the enthusiasm you heard in his tone.

“Don’t I look fine?” you challenged and when he stood up straighter, his smile pinching just a little at the corners, you heard how snippy you sounded with him and sighed. There was the damnable guilt you had been trying to avoid.

“You look beautiful as always, darling,” came his quick reply. “I just thought you could use a little cheering up.”

He leaned back in, whispering conspiratorial into your ear now. “I was hoping you would join me . . . on a date . . .” His eyes glowed as he let his words sink in. “But if you’d rather sit in here and sulk the rest of the night, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Like . . . a date, date?” you asked, feeling a little bit of the weight leaving your chest as hope bloomed in you.

“Precisely.” His smile stretched ear to ear. “There is someone I need to collect a debt on and the weather tonight seems just perfect for such an occasion. I would more than welcome your company.”

You felt your first genuine smile of the day grace your features, nearly matching the wickedness of Alastor’s own features, and that little spark you had felt turned into an entire flood of dopamine.

“Where to?” you asked and Alastor took your head, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before leading you out the front doors.

____

The prey dragged itself up the stairs, stumbling on every other step and grasping the handrail for balance as he went. Although the rainstorm had kept him from the bars that night, it hadn’t kept him from his personal stache of liquor and in his lonely anger, he had downed several gin and tonics before his stomach began to protest and he had passed out in his armchair. He’d woken up a few minutes ago, his bladder protesting the diuretic effects of the booze. By some miracle he had made it to his downstairs bathroom to relieve himself and then decided it was time to crawl into bed.

He made it to the top of the landing after a considerable struggle with the staircase and almost forgot to the turn the lights off behind him. Fumbling with the switch, he just happened to glance down the stairs as the lights flickered out of existence.

The prey blinked in the darkness, trying to adjust his eyes, as he thought he saw a strange shadow at the bottom of the stairs.

He was sure he was alone in the house and he couldn’t quite be sure of what he was seeing, so he flipped the lights back on.

Nothing.

Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, he turned the lights back off.

And there it was again.

A shadow. Taller and definitely there.

Feeling his heart begin to race, the prey flipped the lights on, certain he wasn’t imagining it this time but as the staircase became illuminated once more, the shadow was gone.

He had perhaps had too much to drink.

One last time, he flipped the switch, inviting the darkness back in, and this time when the shadow came back, the prey swore there were faint glowing green eyes and the hint of a smile playing across its features.

And was it a little closer this time? He had sworn it was at the bottom of the stairs but now it seemed to be a few steps up.

“Now that’s enough of that!” the prey shouted and flipped on the lights.

He breathed a sigh of relief when once more, there was nothing.

Maybe it was best to sleep with the lights on tonight, just to be certain.

The prey turned away from the stairs, leaving the switch flipped in the on position, and came chest to chest with The Radio Demon.

“Good evening, Daniel,” Alastor said, smiling wider as the prey’s face turned several shades whiter. “I see you’ve changed residences.”

“Hey there, Al’ . . . I-I mean, Alastor . . . sir. M-Mr. Radio D-demon,” the prey stuttered, stumbling backwards and just barely catching himself on the banister. “You uh . . . you like my new digs, huh? Paid a pretty penny for it but you know, it’ll be good for business.”

Alastor remained at the top of the stairs, watching his prey make its slow decent down and away from him.

“And who’s business would that be? Certainly not mine, I don’t deal in real estate after all.”

“You know, ha, it’s funny you would say that because I’ve been meaning to talk to you- ”

“You made a mistake, Daniel,” Alastor told his prey, all the politeness leaving his tone, although his smile remained.

The prey swallowed audibly.

“Did you really think going to Zestial, of all demons, would save you from our deal?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re . . . talking abou- ”

“You see, Daniel, Zestial and I may not necessarily be friends, but we are colleagues. And we have an understanding. A certain level of respect for each other, if you will.” Alastor narrowed his eyes and his voice turned cold as ice. “And neither of us like having another Overlord’s leftovers.”

Daniel turned and fled, racing down the rest of the steps with a grace that only adrenaline could provide in such a state of inebriation, though he did fumble quite a bit with the locks of the front doors.

Alastor let his prey make it out the front door before he went in pursuit, though he let his deep laughter follow Daniel the whole way down, enjoying the sweet tangy smell of his fear as it spiked at the sound.

In his panic, the prey forgot all about the inclement weather and dashed thoughtlessly out into the rainstorm and ran down the deserted street. It took a minute for the effects to kick in but eventually he started to feel the itching on his skin and then the burning set in. The prey stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, beneath a streetlamp, and watched as the skin on his hands began to turn red and break out in a terrible heat rash.

With a sob, he dashed under an overhang of a nearby business and shook at the doorhandle, but it wouldn’t budge. He thought about breaking the window to get inside but then he heard that laughter again and the streetlights above flickered and then went out, one by one.

Looking down the street, he watched as The Radio Demon stepped out into view, his antlers now wide and pointed above his silhouette, and turned his head down the street, looking in his prey’s direction.

A smell wafted off of him, even from this great distance. A dank, swampy, animalistic smell. The musk filled the prey’s nostrils and burned his sinuses, and he knew it was the smell of a predator about to pounce.

“That’s alright, Daniel, go ahead and run. Please do.”

To the prey’s horror, Alastor began walking quickly down the sidewalk, completely unaffected by the burning rain.  His limbs and entire body stretched out and elongated with every step, closing the distance between them faster than previously possible, until Alastor was a towering demonic presence chasing down the street after him.

“I like my meals warmed up!” he shouted, and the prey screamed as he took off again.

It was either face the rain or be eaten and the prey chose the rain as it sprinted down the street, screaming and crying out for help but not a light flickered on in the buildings as he passed them.

Eventually the burning became unbearable and the prey darted blindly into the nearest alleyway, praying to Roo herself that there would be some shelter to hide in and protect him from the rain.

And there it was, a small overhang by a bar’s backdoor, with a conveniently placed dumpster to hide next to that blocked his view of the street.

That was where the prey found you, standing innocently by the door, shielded from the rain, and he didn’t question why you would be there on a night like this. He only fell at your feet, clinging to your legs and shaking, his hands and face now beginning to blister, his tears hot and stinging his flesh as they fell down his cheeks.

“Please! Please, help me! Let me in! Please! He’s going to eat me, please!”

“Who is going to eat you?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head as you considered the pathetic demon at your feet.

“Alastor. Th-the Radio Demon. He . . . he . . .” the prey fumbled for words, his sentence trailing off as he risked peaking up over the top of the dumpster and seeing nothing but an empty street at the end of the alleyway.

“Oh, right. Him,” you said, nodding. “Well, that’s his thing, isn’t it? Going after demons that try and break their deals. Especially ones like you, who preyed after helpless young women when he was alive. Isn’t that right . . . Daniel?”

The prey’s breath caught in his throat as he glanced over his shoulder at you, a new kind of fear lighting his eyes.

“Who . . . who are you?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“That’s not important,” you scoffed. “Who was the girl you raped and left for dead in the park on the night of your 18th birthday? Or the sex workers you then tortured and killed and left their bodies out in the desert? Do you even remember their names? Do you know how many family members are still looking for their daughters, sisters, mothers?”

“I don’t . . . I didn’t . . .” he stammered, getting to his feet now.

“You did. No use denying it now, Daniel. Not when Alastor and I are so . . . very . . . hungry.”

A crackling noise, like the sound of several joints popping at once filled the air, and the prey looked up and up and up as he saw Alastor’s gigantic form peeling away from the darkened side of the building, turning from nothing but shadow into a very corporeal and deadly form before his very eyes.

Behind him, you shoved at his back, forcing him to fall onto his knees into a puddle of acid rain.

Then you stepped out from under the cover of the overhang, letting the rain soak your hair and clothes, and the prey looked up at you with renewed horror as he realized the acid water had no effect on you either.

“Please,” he whimpered and then began to scream as Alastor bent over and lifted him into the air.

You watched as the prey’s tiny body was lifted higher and higher until the rain and the shadows hid him mostly from view but you could still hear him screaming. Then there was a crunching noise and a wet sound, followed by a thin stream of blood that fell from the sky.

The screaming continued.

“This will be quite unpleasant until it’s over,” Alastor’s voice said from high above you. “But my darling companion does love the taste of demon heart.”

Another sound of stretching and tearing and then you saw it; the warm mass of your meal falling towards you, and you reached up and caught it with skilled precision.

With the prey’s heart now in your grasp, you brought it to your lips and took an eager bite, never minding the blood that ran down your forearms and coated your lower face.

The screaming above you came to a sudden halt with the sound of one final loud crunch and just as you were taking the last bites of your own meal, Alastor was standing before you.

His antlers were still larger than usual, their six points gleaming beautifully in the dim light of the alley, as rain ran down them in rivulets, soaking the red and black hair beneath them.

Alastor gave you a loving smile as you swallowed the last bit of heart.

“Feeling better, my love?” he asked.

“Much,” you said with a satisfied sigh. “Thank you.”

He reached a hand out, wiping away a bit of blood from the side of your mouth with his thumb, though he had hardly succeeded in getting it all.

“You always look positively stunning like this,” he said as he brought his bloody thumb to his mouth and gave it an appreciative suck.

And there in the rain and the dark, you and your lover shared a private and tender kiss, the perfect ending to a perfect date.

Tag list for part 2? It will be smutty.

[the-himawari]

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [SR] Reminiscence of Blooming (1/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Masumi: (The bakery should still be open at this hour, so I’ll buy some curry bread for Director…)

Izumi: *Huff, huff*…

Masumi: —! …Director. Hand those bags to me.

Izumi: Woah, Masumi-kun! Are you on your way home from university? Welcome back.

Masumi: I’m back. I’m glad we got to meet each other before we reached the dorm… but for now, hand me your bags. They look heavy, so I’ll carry them.

Izumi: Thanks. Can I ask you to take this one and this one then?

Masumi: You can give them all to me.

Izumi: The rest are fine. You’ve helped me lots already. I’m glad I bumped into you, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: …Call me at moments like this. I’ll come dashing over right away.

Izumi: Got it. I’ll ask you for a favour when I can.

Masumi: Great.

Izumi: By the way, have you chosen a location to film for your video yet?

Masumi: Ah. The video for the introduction of Veludo Town, right… I haven’t decided yet, but I’m going to think it over soon.

Izumi: I see. I’m looking forward to which place you’re going to introduce.

Masumi: (Director’s looking forward to it… Let’s put some thought into it so I can make her happy.)

-pause-

Masumi: (…I came up with several places to introduce after that, but in the end, I haven’t settled on anything.) … (An arcade, huh… Itaru introduced one earlier on the MANKAI Channel, plus it’s not the kind of place I’d choose anyways—)

Itaru: Masumi?

Masumi: …God no.

Itaru: We just happened to bump into each other and I’m getting dragged. I see you’re looking at the arcade. Are you planning to go in or something?

Masumi: I didn’t mean to stare at it or anything.

Itaru: I see. But hey, seeing as we’re here, come join me for a bit. I’m gonna play some fighting games.

Masumi: Why me…

Itaru: It’s fine, it’s fine. Come on, hurry now.

Masumi: Don’t pull me.

-pause-

Game announcement: YOU WIN!

Itaru: Hell yeah! I feel super satisfied pulling off such a sick combo.

Masumi: Ugh…

Itaru: Ooh, someone looks mad. Wanna go again? I’ll take you on.

Masumi: …You’re on.

Itaru: That’s what I’m talking about.

Masumi: What a pain…

Itaru: I can’t heeear you.

Masumi: …

Itaru: By the way, you’re pretty into this fighting game too, huh?

Masumi: …I’m not into it. Don’t lump us together.

-pause-

Masumi: *Sigh*…

Izumi: Masumi-kun? What’s wrong? It looks like you got home a little late today.

Masumi: …I happened to run to Itaru on my way home from school and he made me go to the arcade with him. I’m drained. But I’m fine now. When I saw your face, all my fatigue blew away.

Izumi: Ahaha. I’m glad if you say so. In any case, I noticed you’ve started going to the arcade more often than before. Do you actually kind of like them?

Masumi: (…Director cares and notices the little things about me… I’m so happy.) I wouldn’t say I like them… but I think they’re good places to kill time. Winning in fighting games is surprisingly stress-relieving.

Izumi: Fufu, I see. It’s important to have places like that though, don’t you think? The fact that you can go there to kill time might make it a little more special than you think.

Masumi: That’s true… (…I wasn’t even considering it before. But maybe it wouldn’t be a bad place to introduce in my video.)

---

| next

[erineverly]

“i’m so happy he’s doing good and doesn’t cause any trouble. that’s probably the most important thing, right? that he’s eager to work and on his best behavior.” she knows the decision to fire steven wasn’t an easy one and hopes her husband never has to do something like this again, but at the same time she finds it difficult to accept the fact that one of their friends, her friend, is just gone, that someone else’s taken his place. “have you heard from steven recently? do you know how he’s doing? if he’s in rehab?” she asks softly, almost hesitantly, as if testing the waters. she has no recollection of what happened that night after she and axl had a fight and she found herself at steven’s doorstep, looking for something that could take her pain away, and it makes her feel uneasy but she can’t just stop caring about him. it’s only when axl tickles the sensitive spot under her chin that she pushes these thoughts away and a dazzling smile appears on her face. “mhm, call me the president of axl rose fan club,” she muses with a laugh, blushing when he kisses her cheek. it makes her heart skip a beat, chest expanding and brimming with love. “really? thank you so much, mr. rose! it’s the best day of my life! i’ll get it tattooed!” she plays along, squealing like a fangirl as she picks up his toothbrush. she hands it to him, pretending it’s a pen, and turns around, lifting her shirt up just enough to uncover her backside. a fit of giggles escapes her because it’s so silly and ridiculous. 

“there’s no one like you, baby.” she only grows serious upon hearing his next words, her dazzling grin faltering a bit as she turns to face him and cups his cheek. she leans in to kiss his forehead, the pad of her thumb caressing his skin. “that’s so true, axl.” how life sucks but in a beautiful kind of way. they’d know. they’ve lost everything and here they are, still trying to make their marriage work. “i promise i won’t ever leave you alone with any pain. you can always come and talk to me when you’re feeling down,” she assures, feeling somewhat relieved to hear that he doesn’t want to take his life, that he just doesn’t want to be in pain and alone. “hey, hey, now that’s enough… i get the point. you love all dark-haired women and think they’re gorgeous. of course, you do,” she huffs, rolling her eyes but just to mess with the other. she also winks at him to let him know that she’s being playful about it and isn’t really jealous. “yeah, okay… i don’t want us to wake up at noon tomorrow.” and if they want to get some much-deserved sleep, they should go to bed soon. “duh, i want to be just like my husband because my husband is the most amazing person in the world. who wouldn’t want to be like him?” besides, she enjoys taking him by surprise whether it’s by dropping a random ain’t in the middle of the sentence or by making a dirty comment — it’s always so fun and amusing. “what did you just call me, you sore loser? if i were you, i wouldn’t be mean to someone who’s about to shave my face and fix my late night snack,” she counters, snickering when she realizes that he won’t splash her back and she’s safe. she’s won! a triumphant smile blooms on her lips and she even does a little happy dance just to taunt him. “why, thank you. you look pretty cute yourself, my sweet honeybun. you and your duck friend.” giggling, she makes a mental note to herself to prepare bubble baths for him more often. he’s just beyond adorable, sitting here like a little boy and having the time of his life. “uh-uh, no… i’m the goodest, bestest girl,” she states confidently, moving the trash can where it should be so that he won’t trip over it while climbing out of the tub later. “i don’t want richard to feel uncomfortable and he’s probably more familiar with your hand than mine so… you wash him and i’ll shave your face, how about that?” she suggests, biting her lip to keep from grinning goofily when she realizes that she’s unintentionally made another dirty comment.

“it wouldn’t be the same without you. and yeah, he’s great so far. he’s pretty good about getting the songs down fast so that’s always a good thing and he’s not on anything either…so that’s a good thing.” axl emphasizes, chuckling. “ohh, here she comes. my biggest fan and most beautiful.” he scratches her under her chin once she sits and he sits up, placing a kiss to her cheek.

“i’ll sign. give me a pen and turn around, i’ll write it on that cute ass.” he grins, squeezing her leg. “i guess you won’t find many like that or like me…” a sweet smile starts to lift his lips, “and besides that, i don’t want to leave this life. not really. i just get nuts when i want to escape the pain and feel like i’m all alone with it. and yeah, life sucks, but— in a beautiful kind of way.” meaning, it’s hard but it’s worth the hardships. because life is the most beautiful gift of all. “better late than never.” “yeah, fuck that. all women are beautiful. my type is brunettes. but in general, all women of different hair types and body types are beautiful. they each deserve a main role in a movie, fuck them.” they can suck a dick. “i’ve done a lot of relaxing already, i’m good now. and i actually better hurry a little, so we can snack then get in the bed.” he decides, they won’t be getting up if all he does is sit here all night. “so it’s because you’re wanting to talk like an indiana boy is why you’re sayin’ his words?” he amusingly questions, starting to rub the bar of soap into his washcloth before eyes flinch at water splashing in his face. “heyyy, asshead.” he wipes his eyes with his forearm, aiming to get her back but then she hops back and decides he doesn’t want to get her wet. “yeahh, you’re lucky. brat.” shaking his head, scrubbing under his armpits. “you do, you look really cute and hot at the same time.” giving a single nod and a little devious smirk lifts on his face as emeralds watch her twirl, her bottom looking so cute in those pink panties. “what? maybe you’re a bad girl for not washing me. you have wanted to do everything else for me, but not that.” he teases her, a snort sounding from him as hand washes over his neck and chest.

[limitlessgojo]

Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo

NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship

Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation

Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.

The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)

You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.

"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.

"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”

“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.

You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help. 

"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.

So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes. 

You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him. 

“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”

“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him). 

You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.” 

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts. 

Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips. 

"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.

He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.

"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip." 

".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."

"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then." 

"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public. 

He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin. 

After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him. 

"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.

You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day. 

Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn." 

Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining. 

"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this." 

It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn. 

💜💜💜

You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband. 

"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.

"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself. 

But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him. 

"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.

He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.

"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.

He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear. 

Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.

You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.

Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.

Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head. 

He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined. 

"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.

His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes. 

Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.

With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact. 

"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.

No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.

"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly. 

"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time. 

For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.

Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"

As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it. 

"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."

You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once. 

You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.

But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.

He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there. 

You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.

You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.

Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.

"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke. 

"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit. 

In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm. 

He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut. 

"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow. 

He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up. 

He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.

He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.

He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.

"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).

You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.

"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out. 

The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.

"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.

"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."

He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms. 

You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."

At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.

"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"

He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.

Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.

He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.

One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.

"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.

He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.

The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.

Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power. 

His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.

"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.

You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside. 

Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.

The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.

You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.

You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed. 

"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep. 

🎇🎇🎇

The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.

Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn. 

"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.

Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.

End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜

All rights reserved to Limitlessgojo.

[idy-ll-ique]

Touch.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: age gap, mentions of blood, graphic descriptions of violence, death

Requested: nope

Summary: "touch her and I'll kill you" but Bucky is a man of his words.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay, so regarding the ending; there's two ways to look at it. 1) soft-dark!mob!bucky or 2) arranged marriage au with a twist. you can decide that for yourself. enjoy!

---

"Appreciate it, Marvin, but really, I'll be okay," Y/N assured her coworker, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. The single dad of 2 still looked unsure. "Y/N, it's very late, please…" She continued shaking her head. "Please. My house isn't that far," she tried and he gave up. "If you say so. Let me at least walk you to the gates." She allowed him to do that.

They chatted as they walked. "How are Eva and Evan?" she grinned at him. Marvin smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Eva said her first word yesterday," Marvin admitted and Y/N squealed. "Ooh, what was it?!" she asked excitedly. "It was their nanny's name, actually." She smirked at the way he turned pink.

Y/N had met his kids' nanny once; she was a beautiful woman and Y/N knew Marvin had a crush on her. Her name was… Nicole, if she wasn't mistaken. "Really? That's another reason why you should ask that woman out." Marvin jokingly shoved Y/N and she laughed harder as they stood near the gates. "See you tomorrow!"

"Bye!" Y/N waved and started walking down the dimly lit street, humming under her breath. Thinking back to her chat with Marvin, a smile bloomed on her face and she chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "Oh, Marvin, you idiot," she snorted under her breath, freezing when she heard footsteps behind her. "Hi there." Slowly turning around, she saw a man.

Instinctively she took a step back; he was a bad man, he gave those vibes. "No," she said flatly and turned to leave, pausing out of fear when he harshly grabbed her arm. He spun her around and his eyes widened when they landed on her face. "Y/L/N's daughter, aren't ya, ya pretty thing," he hissed in her face and she winced.

"Let me go."

"Now that's one thing I can't do, my dear," he sighed dramatically and Y/N forced a glare on her face despite being shaken to the core. Truth was, her father ran a mob. They dealt with arms and weaponry and since Y/N had a soft soul, she had rejected her father's decision of her taking over the mob after him. He respected that, was relieved, even; he didn't want to put his daughter in danger.

Her father had a friend, young (and very good-looking, she had to admit). His name was Bucky Barnes, and he ran his own mob. His mob was bigger and more famous than her father's, he practically owned a sixth of the city. She had heard talks of her father handing his mob over to Bucky after his retirement a few years down the lane.

"Let me go," she repeated, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible as she blinked back tears. "Come on angel, I'll make it worth your time. It's been a long time since I've been with a pretty girl like you," he crooned and Y/N scrunched her nose, the action earning her a sharp slap on the cheek from the man. She cried out in pain.

Then she managed to wrench her arm away from his grip, moving to run away but this time he grabbed her waist, forcing her to elbow him in the gut. He pulled away again and she turned, placing a firm slap on his cheek as she seethed, daring him to put his hands on her again. He did, circling an arm around her shoulder as he pulled her in. She leaned forward and bit his arm. He hissed.

"You bitch!"

"Let go!" she screamed this time and he slapped her again, clamping a hand over her mouth. "I'm going to fuck the brat out of you," he whispered dangerously and Y/N's eyes watered as she tried to get away from him. A third slap, this time his ring cut her cheek. A drop of blood trickled down her soft skin and the man hummed appreciatively.

"Wh-What's your name?"

He stopped and considered her for a minute. "Rumlow," he answered simply and she started wiggling in his grip again. "Stop that!" he screamed and threw a punch at her face, hitting her square in the jaw. A fight broke out; Y/N hit him back by slapping him on the cheek again and Rumlow proceeded to choke her. Her vision going hazy she gasped and kicked him.

Straight in the crotch.

Rumlow's hands left her body as he bent forward, cupping his crotch in pain. Finding new strength, she pushed him and with nothing to ground him he fell, giving Y/N enough time to escape as she ran away, glad that she had decided to wear sneakers that day. There was only one thing on her mind; her home, which she shared with her parents.

I just want to sleep.

Coughing at times, she reached home 15 minutes later and opened the door, thinking that her parents would be asleep by then. Her watch said it was 12:30 am. Unfortunately, as she threw open the front door, she froze again for in the doorway stood her parents and in front of them, Bucky. He was holding his jacket, signalling that was about to leave.

He turned to look at her and his eyes immediately took in all the bruises that had formed on her face, as well as her clothes which were askew and the handprint of someone gripping her arm. "Y/N!" her mother exclaimed worriedly, almost fainting at the sight of her daughter looking so beaten up. Y/N's eyes snapped towards Bucky when he spoke.

"Come with me."

Without questioning his authority Y/N followed Bucky up the stairs and into the study. The moment the doors closed behind them he took her face in his hands, examining the bruises. The noise of her parents making their way upstairs stilled him for a moment but they simply walked past the study towards what he concluded was the master bedroom.

Bucky had also liked Y/N for a long time. Her parents had introduced her to him when she was 20; he was much older than her but towards the end of the day, when his friend had asked, "What do you think about my daughter?" he couldn't bring himself to lie. And surprisingly, her father was ecstatic at the idea of Bucky dating his daughter.

Well, at least he had her parents' approval.

The moment the door to the master bedroom closed, Bucky's hands resumed their motions. Y/N stood as still as possible despite being in a lot of pain, not wanting to ruin the sudden, personal moment that they were having. He had always been civil with her; never talking to her as more than a friend, never touching her for long but oh, today was much different.

Bucky carefully lifted her jaw, noticing the way she unintentionally flinched when his fingers came in contact with her chin. A broken jaw. She was also bleeding from the cheek and a trail of blood went down the corner of her lips. Barely being able to contain his anger he swiped the blood away, causing Y/N to shudder.

Tears pooled in her eyes as her skin started itching and aching. His hand left her face and gently curled around her arm, lifting it so he could get a better look at the handprint. Not one word was spoken during the entire exchange as Bucky took note of all her injuries. She suddenly lifted her hand to wipe her tears and tilted her head further up, exposing her neck.

Bucky took in a sharp intake of breath. Her neck was covered in deep purple, red and blue bruises. Someone tried to choke her. He wasn't able to contain his anger anymore but he tried his best as he finally looked Y/N in her eyes. She stared back at him, whimpering. "Who did this?" The words came out a hiss. "B-Buck…" she choked out.

"Y/N?" he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips. The intensity of the situation hit her then; Bucky liked her. Momentary happiness washed over her but there were more important things to care about. "Bucky," she breathed and leaned forward, pressing herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

One of his hands cradled her head, discreetly checking for injuries there as his other arm went around her waist. "I need a name, sweetheart," he hummed quietly, too quietly. "R-R—" she stammered but stopped as her wounds unknowingly caught on fire at the letter. "Rumlow?" Bucky blurted out.

He didn't think that was the name she'd take but Y/N pulled away from him with a look of disbelief on her face, causing his worst fears to come true. Rumlow got to you. Fuck, that bastard was dying today. "It was him?!" Bucky gasped and Y/N nodded. "How did you know?" she croaked out, wincing when pain shot through her throat.

"We— We've got a pretty famous rivalry going on, sweetheart, surprised you didn't know that."

"Sorry, don't keep up with mob news."

He chuckled for a moment before sobering up; straightening his shoulders as a dark look crossed his face. "I have to go now, you take care of yourself, okay?" He moved to leave when Y/N pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him. She leaned on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, the action causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

He gently turned her head and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I'll visit tomorrow," he whispered and she nodded, a smile forming on her lips. "I'd like that very much." With a smile of his own he kissed her forehead and they both left the study, making their way downstairs. Bucky left the house and Y/N turned to see her mother standing at the top of the stairs.

"Your daddy has called the doctor, dear, he'll be here in 15 minutes."

"Okay, ma."

---

"Rumlow, you motherfucker!" Bucky roared as he stormed into the bar where he was sure his rival was. Behind him walked in his right-hand men Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers, followed by 15 of his men. Rumlow looked up from his corner, his eyes going wide at the furious look on Bucky's face. While he had seen the look a thousand times, something was different tonight.

Bucky spotted him and strode forward, easily pushing aside the men who came to their boss' defence. Rumlow gasped when Bucky grabbed him by the throat and smashed his skull against the table, eliciting a hiss and a low groan from the man. "You fucking dare—" Bucky began as he lifted him up, only to punch him square in the jaw like he had Y/N.

"You fucking dare put your hands on her!" Bucky shouted but Rumlow's head was spinning after he'd hit the table. For the first time, he realized, he was afraid. Of Barnes. In the background, Bucky's men, outnumbering Rumlow's men, fought. "You hurt her and now you're going to pay!" Lifting an empty bottle of vodka off the table with his free hand, Bucky smashed it on Rumlow's head.

Pieces of it got stuck in his scalp as Rumlow fell unconscious. All Bucky saw was red. He couldn't physically bear the thought of someone hurting his girl and being true to his words… "I promised her father," Bucky breathed out as he threw more punches at Rumlow's dying body, "No one was going to hurt her."

Another punch to the face. "I told him, anybody who touches her dies," Bucky hissed, "And yet you dare— I'm a man true to my words," Bucky promised in a sinister tone, knowing that he was talking to himself since Rumlow was long gone. His hand closed around Rumlow's neck. "You touch her—" He squeezed, "You die."

And Rumlow's dead body slumped on the floor.

The fight around him stopped instantly.

"We're done here."

---

"Princess?" Groaning softly, Y/N turned away from the voice and pulled the covers tighter around herself. "Away," she mumbled and heard a soft feminine laugh as well as two manly chuckles behind her. "You've been asleep a long time, baby," a familiar voice whispered, placing a hand on her arm. Her eyes flew open and she looked up, straight at Bucky.

"Oh my God!" Jumping up, she threw her arms around the man and buried her face in the crook of his neck, causing him to laugh. Smiling at each other, her parents left the room, leaving the two lovebirds alone. They were sure Bucky could handle breaking the news to her by himself. "Good morning," he greeted as he sat down, pulling her on his lap.

"Do you really like me?" she whispered, realizing that they had not made it explicitly clear last night. "Of course I do, princess. You're mine," he spoke in a possessive tone. "I'm yours," she agreed as she burrowed closer to him. "And no one touches what's mine and gets out alive." Y/N took a few moments to register those words.

When she did, she pulled away from him, still straddling his lap as she stared at him, jaw dropped. "You…" He nodded and Y/N's eyes went wide. Though he was delivering the news of someone's death, Y/N couldn't bring herself to feel bad. He had attacked her, he got what he deserved. "I— I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to tell you what I did. We can talk about something else," he offered and a smile immediately bloomed on her face. "How long have you liked me?" He laughed before cupping her face, pulling her down to press his lips to hers. "Ever since I met you 5 years ago, doll, I was smitten." Y/N gasped against his lips.

"Ever since you met me?! Me too!"

"Really?" He grinned broadly at the look of excitement on her face. My sweet angel. "Really! I— I think I might… I think I might love you but it's too early on—" she stammered but Bucky took her hands, tears starting to glisten in his eyes at her words. She loves me. "Princess, I love you too," he admitted and she paused.

"Bucky, I love you!" she smiled hugely and hugged him tightly. Bucky quietly wiped his tears off, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. He could see the bruises fading away and that calmed his heart. She's safe with me. And I'm never letting her go. "So, there's some news…" he continued and she pulled away, a curious look on her face.

"What is that?"

"Your father is retiring. I'm gonna take over the mob now." Y/N squealed and clapped her hands; she knew her father made a great decision. Bucky was more than competent. "Congratulations!" she shouted and jumped out of his arms, running out of the room to wish her father the same. Bucky chuckled as he stayed there for a moment more, running his hand through his hair.

"Can't wait to make you my wife, baby."

---

A/N: Three Bucky fics in a row 👀 leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading! I really appreciate it (and thanks for 430 followers lol I love every single one of you)

[aminiatureworld]

Small Bits of Memory

Characters: Scaramouche, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,531

Warnings: None

Premise: Little moments between Scaramouche and the reader.

Author’s Note: Warning, I’m not caught up on the archon quest. I did skim the wiki (which made me kinda sad ngl), but if there are inaccuracies, that’s why. I also may have made Scaramouche a bit sappy because of this.  

I took “comfort” to mean “hurt/comfort” so if some of these are a bit melancholic it’s because angst brain does not turn off.

Scaramouche

Scaramouche is well familiar with nightmares. He knows the feeling of opening yours eyes in the dark, not moving, not crying out or sitting up; simply opening your eyes as the latent fear of your dreams finally catch up with you and finally your breathing starts to speed in your chest, as your finally realize how afraid you were. Thus on the first night he wakes to you staring intently at the darkness around you, still to the point of stiffness, he automatically understands what’s going on.

At first he’s too scared to wrap his arms around you, afraid that you’ll find the action frightening, or that you’ll instinctively reject him. He only reaches out his hand, secretly relieved when you entwined your fingers within his. Feeling vaguely sentimental in his tired state he whispers: “I’ll protect you from the dark, so stop staring and go back to sleep.” He hopes that you won’t tease him about it tomorrow, as some small part of him knows that it was a very silly thing to say.

Afterwards he grows a little bolder, inching closer to you, then letting one arm rest on your shoulder, fingers featherlight on your skin. Thankfully your penchant for nightmares isn’t too great, so it’s about two months before he wakes up the next day to his arms wrapped around you, you nestled within his sleepy embrace. Seeing you sleeping peacefully after the look of uncomprehending panic plastered across your features the night before calms him like few other things, and he sighs peacefully, letting his eyes flit closed once more. The two of you sleep in that day.

Scaramouche always panics slightly whenever you get hurt. It could be a paper cut, it could be a bruise, it could be a battle injury, his response is relatively similar each time. You might squirm as he cleans your cut off for the third time in ten minutes, assuring him that you aren’t going to die, but he isn’t truly listening to you. There’s a glazed look in his eyes, and it takes him a few moments to register that you’re calling his name. You worry about it sometimes, you wonder what might happen if you were to truly injure yourself. You hope he wouldn’t blame himself too much. Scaramouche has a surprising penchant towards self-flagellation, when he’s not telling himself that he’s superior to everyone around him.

Scaramouche has never horsed around in a river, never experienced a snowball fight, never watched a sunrise for the sake of it. He was not created for such things after all. It’s hard for him to imagine enjoyment in the little pieces of universal humanity, perhaps because he feels somehow separated from such a privilege. You start keeping a list of these sorts of things, small moments to enjoy. He finds the idea silly at first, but gradually grows to like the experience. Perhaps not the individual activities, but the experience as a whole. He might not understand the “universal human experience” as you call it, but the snow against his skin is cold and clear, and the sun looks like fire in the sky, and you’re smiling next to him, and all is well in the world.

Scaramouche doesn’t have much attachment to Inazuma, considering it a desolate land where the people survive despite, not because of, the land. He has no love for the plains, or the skinny forests, or the craggy rocks and hills. The flowers glow preternaturally, and the electricity that fills the air makes unpleasant crackling noises. Nevertheless he has to admit a fondness for the cherry blossoms that bloom on Narukami Islands. It’s as if a small sliver of beauty managed to scrape its way into the world. He’ll take you to see them sometimes, regardless of his status as a Harbinger and a general menace. Perched amidst the falling petals you remind him of some sort of spirit from folklore. If he could draw well at all he thinks he would make a portrait of you surrounded by those blossoms. Certainly there’d be nothing else worth painting.

The two of you like to read together, Scaramouche going over whatever plans he’s currently focusing on, you curled up with a book. If you find a passage or a quote you particularly like you’ll tap him on the shoulder, and Scaramouche will duly listen to you read it aloud. He likes the sound of your reading voice, the way it varies slightly from when you talk. Unfortunately he made the mistake of telling you that once, and you began to insist that he read for you. Though he secretly enjoys doing so, he still grumbles about it out of habit. The both of you know he’s only doing it for show.

Scaramouche once caught you using a broom like a sword. Though you looked very drunk he secretly found it endlessly endearing. He offered to teach you some basic sword forms (despite his weapon knowing swordplay is a basic requirement for all Fatui soldiers). You accepted eagerly at the time, unaware of how much you’d underestimated Scarmouche’s fervor when it came to training. It took a wooden sword snapped in half for him to lay off a little bit, but at least his troops started dropping hints at you that they no longer feared for their lives. Though you think they were joking, you were still glad for the learning experience. You two still spar every once in a while though.

Living up to his title of “Balladeer” Scaramouche has quite the haunting voice. Not particularly high, his range still has a natural warmth to it that belies his cold exterior. You almost never catch him actually singing. The first time it happened was when you had a migraine. Refusing to leave your tent – you hadn’t actually convinced him you weren’t dying – he seemed torn between boredom and worry. At first it was a mere hum, but soon enough it morphed into a captivating song. He refused to tell you the name of it, claiming he’d forgotten, and refused to bring it up the next morning. Still sometimes you’ll catch him now and then humming out a tune, usually when he’s reading or if you’re sick or upset. His singing is something you associate with comfort.

Scaramouche is a terrible letter writer. If you send him ten letters while he’s away he’ll send you three. Still what he lacks in quantity he makes up for in word count. Curt in his official reports, his letters to you are pure stream-of-consciousness, captivating whatever he’s thinking about at the time. Usually the letters are somewhat sappy (or surprisingly bold) missives on how much he loves you and misses you, somehow more honest than when he speaks to you face-to-face. Still you’ve also gotten quite used to a thousand words on how much he hates his fellow Harbingers. You don’t mind, keeping all his letters to you in a box. Though he claims to burn yours, he does the same.

Scaramouche always tell you the days he’s leaving and the days he’s returning. Sometimes he’ll have it down to an estimated hour. Though he appreciates the pomp and spectacle of appearing around others unannounced – something he does quite a bit when working – he refuses to keep you in a limbo of waiting. Secretly he’s also always afraid you might not show up on the docks one day, and every time he sees your face after a long time away a weight lifts in his chest, the pressure on his soul just a little easier to bear every time.

Scaramouche has always felt most comfortable at night. When the world sleeps, when he has the advantage of being awake, being alert, being more powerful. When there are fewer eyes on him, and he can even tell himself that he is the only one awake in the world, can indulge in those moments of wondering, wondering whether he has ever felt something, whether he is missing a crucial piece. Whether he has ever been happy, whether he wants to be so. He can be vulnerable at night, and thus is the reason it appealed to him so much.

Now the night is his favorite time of day because he can always be near you at that time. If you two are in the same land, then you will spend the night in the same room, the same tent, the same bed. Listening to the sound of your breathing, letting himself revel in your closeness, your arms wrapped around his waist, or his wrapped around you, Scaramouche feels truly content. Perhaps he is even happy, perhaps this is what happiness is, what love is. Perhaps it is something more than that, something undefinable, something too abstract to put into words. He loves you, he realizes to himself, he loves you so much. It is overwhelming, like a tidal wave, yet it does not frighten him. He could be struck by lightning and it would not frighten him. It will in the daytime, but now is the night, and now he can marvel peacefully at the fact that he truly loves you.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol.10 Mukami Azusa [TRACK 5 + EPILOGUE]

Original title:

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 10 Mukami Azusa

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kishio Daisuke

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

TRACK 5: THIS MOMENT WILL BE FOREVER

Azusa walks up to you while you are outside.

[00:10] “Eve…The wind is cold…Wouldn’t it be better to head back inside?”

You ask to stay just a little longer.

“Does it feel…nice? I’m glad…Shall we take a walk around…and watch the roses together for a bit then?”

The two of you start walking. 

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle rustle*

[01:17] “...Phew. I’m glad. This grafting attempt…looks promising. Finally, huh?”

You nod.

“...Oh. Eve…? Your complexion…doesn’t look so good…Just leave this to me and go take a seat on the bench, okay?”

You agree.

[01:58] “It’ll only take a second, okay?”

You sit down on the bench.

*Rustle*

“Nn…Oh?”

*Rustle*

“This grafted vine…has buds! Ah…Here, take a look! …Oh. Eve…?”

Azusa walks up to you.

“You closed your eyes…? Are you asleep…? …You shouldn’t sleep here. …Wake up.”

*Rustle*

You give no response.

[02:52] “She’s not…waking up… …!! Don’t tell me…! Hey…!!”

*Rustle*

“Wake up!”

*Rustle rustle*

“Open…your eyes!! Ah…”

*Thud*

[03:12] “Open your eyes…Please…The rose vines…finally split buds…Let’s be there together…to witness the flowers open up…Hey…?”

*Rustle*

“I’ll hold you…in my arms so please…Wake up…Uu…Can you…see me? Uu…”

*TIMESKIP*

You slowly open your eyes. 

*Rustle*

[04:20] “Ah…Thank god. You woke up, huh…? I was worried…because you were asleep for a whole three days…Ruki managed to somehow…save your life at least…”

You whimper something.

“What…? I can’t hear…you. Hold up…I’ll bring…my ear closer.”

Azusa moves closer.

“A request…? What would…that be?”

You tell him your request.

[05:37] “...I promise. I’ll never…inflict harm upon myself again…Even if you were…to disappear from this world…I won’t follow you into death…Mmh. I vow I won’t. So please, rest assured? Take…a deep breath…”

*Rustle*

*Smooch*

[06:32] “This is…the kiss that seals our promise. If it is your wish for me to live, then I will…no matter how painful or hard it may be…I promise that, on this kiss.”

You notice a potted plant by your bedside. 

“Ah…You noticed the potted plant? While you were…asleep…The grafting succeeded…and its flowers bloomed…They’re cute, don’t you think…? I wanted to be able to watch them together…so I carefully looked after them. I’m glad…that my wish was granted. I’m sure that…the flowers are happy too.”

You nod. 

[08:09] “If you were to become a flower…I promise I will continue to treasure you, just as much as I do right now…I’ll tell you how pretty you are every day, and give you water. And every time the petals move…I’ll think of it as you smiling…”

You smile.

“Do you feel relieved now…? I guess…I can still put your mind at ease. I’ll continue to protect our rose garden. You’ll be smiling over there, won’t you?”

*Rustle*

[09:25] “I’ll be gentle…So please let me embrace you. Eve…I love you. Your everything…is so very precious to me.”

*Rustle*

“Hah…”

*TIMESKIP*

The wind blows outside.

*Tweet tweet*

*Rustle rustle*

[10:30] “...Good morning, Eve. Morning has come once again. The wind…is blowing. The sun shines warmly as well…It’s a pleasant morning. It allows me to feel you. So…Do you understand? The two of us…are always together.”

TRACK 6: EPILOGUE

*Tweet tweet*

[00:23] “I’ll hand you the vine from over here, so take it from me, okay? We have to wrap the roses…around this arch.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Exactly…You’re doing a great job. I can’t wait…till they bloom. An arched gate decorated with roses…is quite lovely, don’t you think?”

*Thud* 

“Ah…My bad. My hand bumped into yours…Oh?”

*Rustle rustle*

[01:12] “Your fingers…feel cold. Can I…squeeze your hands tight?”

You nod.

*Rustle*

“Hey…Come closer…”

*Rustle*

“Let’s scatter some ashes to fertilize the soil…and call it a day, okay?”

*TIMESKIP*

*Tweet tweet*

*Rustle*

[02:09] “Hah…”

*Rustle*

“Well then…We’re all done over here.”

You note that he has improved a lot in the garden. 

“Mmh…I didn’t know that ashes could be used…as fertilizer for roses…before Yuma told me about it. …Hm? What’s wrong? You look so serious…?”

You explain.

“Please don’t say ‘when I die’...I don’t even want to imagine…having to scatter your ashes…”

You apologize.

[03:11] “Exactly. Let’s just call it a joke. …I don’t want to talk about that.”

*Twinkle*

“...Oh.”

*Rustle*

“Yeah…A butterfly…”

You seem surprised as the butterfly lands on the tip of your nose. 

[03:37] “Oh…? Fufu…~ What a surprise…It landed…on the tip of your nose. Ah…It flew off again…It kind of feels…like it stole one of your kisses…I’m a little jealous…”

You walk up to him.

“Oh…Ah…E-Eve…? Your face…is close.”

You ask for a kiss as well. 

[04:26] “Ah…You want me to copy the butterfly…? …Of course. …Even if you hadn’t asked me…I was going to do it either way. …Don’t move, okay? …Now close your eyes. Mmh…”

*Smooch*

[05:02] “Fufu…Now shall we kiss properly next? Eve…My precious flower. Mmh…”

*Smooch*

“Nn…Mmh…”

*Smooch*

“Hah…Kisses like these…just make you melt, don’t you think?” 

ーー THE END ーー

[mortedeveles]

a whisker away― 1 | HQ Movie Collab!

COPYRIGHT © 2021 BY VELES. DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, OR READ MY CONTENT AS ASMR OR AUDIOFICS.

SUMMARY: After a strange series of events, turning into a cat becomes part of your daily routine, in which you visit your crush- Kenma, every day after school. But he doesn’t know you’re the cat that visits him. And to make things worse, you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep this up before your world spirals out of your control.

PAIRING: Kenma Kozume x fem!reader

GENRE & THEME:  A Whisker Away! AU (movie), fluff to angst to fluff, pining. [(two part) ONE-SHOT] [Haikyu Movie Collab!]

TAG’S & TW: Cursing, a bit of unhealthy family dynamics. Mentions of social anxiety, rejection. Some angst, mentions of insecurities and small graphic violence. Reader might come off a bit as yandere-ish/obsessive but she’s just head over heels over Kenma, who’s barely discovering his feelings as well. 

WORD COUNT: 5.7K! 

A/N: Hey y’all! I’m here with my first Kenma fic :) Which is part of @/hitokas-angel Haikyuu Movie Collab! I’ll link the masterlist in my taglist reblog. This fic is based on the movie A Whisker Away but doesn’t follow the entire plot, and I haven’t written in a while and this is my first time writing for Kenma, so I hope it’s okay! <3 Please REBLOG, like and COMMENT if you enjoy! 

Second (and final) part will be out this upcoming week! If you want to be added to the taglist, check my pinned post. 

People are a fickle thing, Kenma thinks. And he snorts at the thought, knowing he isn't any better than any of the passing strangers he's walking by as he heads to Nekoma High. But still, there's something about people, about crowds and socializing that makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

People are hard to deal with. If he can barely deal with himself, why bother with others? It's not that he's a sociopath, he does have friends and family he cares about. And he cares about what others think of him. But still, socializing is so intimidatingly hard that he'd rather just avoid it altogether if possible. 

Even with his headphones, he can hear the loud blaring of cars, the chattering of people that brush against his arms, and he tries to ignore it, tries to ignore the nervous fluttering that's sprouted in his stomach from all the alternating and overwhelming noises. Whatever, it's just a car honking. It's just a little kid screaming. So he braces his arms as he buries his hands in the pockets of his sweater, feeling a bit more relieved as he spots Nekoma High School in the near distance. He usually walks to school with Kuroo, but his friend decided to be productive today and wake up at four in the morning. The mere thought of waking up so early made Kenma yawn and feel drowsy. His eyes feel a bit heavy, though he knows it's his fault for staying up playing video games, again. 

But Kenma doesn't mind the slight drowsiness that courses through his body. In a sense, it feels comforting. Like if the world's been sedated to a more managing level. A world that he can handle without his anxiety bursting through the roof. 

A soft mew snaps him out of his thoughts, and Kenma spots a white kitten rubbing across his legs, and he smiles. It has a unique pattern across its fur, with brown and black spots. He kneels down and gently scratches the cat under its chin, and the furry animal purrs and preens with his touch.

As a small sigh escapes his lips, the boy raises his head and stares at the high school building ahead of him. Several classmates are walking past him and he watches the girls with swishing skirts and boys with their boisterous laugh and messily done ties. 

Despite a large number of students pouring into the building, the morning at Nekoma High is quiet and serene. Giving the black kitten one last scratch, Kenma stands up and heads inside the building, working his way through crowds. His gym bag is heavy in his hand and his backpack slightly thumps against his back, but he pays it no mind as he exits the building and finds his way into the gymnasium. Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku are already in the gymnasium, the three third years chattering amongst themselves. The gym's doors creaked from being pushed open, and Kuroo's gaze snapped towards Kenma, a wry smile crawling onto his lips. 

"Look who got here early. I'm impressed," the black-haired boy crossed his arms, and Kenma rolled his eyes. "You're the first second-year to get here today."

Kenma merely lets out a small grunt of acknowledgment, before trudging towards the locker rooms. He stashes his bag in his locker and then heads out back to the gym, already decked out in his volleyball uniform, but furrows his eyebrows at the sight ahead of him.

Not again. He swallows down an annoyed groan as he spots the all too familiar girl standing with Kuroo, a bright smile painted on her lips as she laughs and talks along with the boy. Why are you here?

"Kenma!" Kuroo calls out for him with a shit-eating grin on his face, "Your super fan is here with a gift." Great. Now he has to talk to you and thank you for whatever you brought. Why couldn't you just take a hint and leave him alone? He thought he made it clear last week when he ignored you as you called out his name and Kenma proceeded to ignore your every word as he raced home. 

"Hi, Kenma!" And there you go again, making his stomach twist with your wide smile. Why did you make him feel this way? He didn't like this feeling. "I had some free time today, so I decided to make you a bento box. I hope you like it," you explain before handing over the box, and Kenma ignores the way his skin heats up as your fingers brush against his. 

"Thank you," he murmurs but refuses to meet your gaze, hoping you'll go away without another second to spare.

"Aww, aren't you two adorable!" Kuroo coos at his left, and Kenma feels his pride shrivel and glares at the black-haired boy, but he pays him no mind.

Kenma drops his gaze to your shiny school shoes, hearing you stammer and step back nervously, and Kuroo's boisterous laugh echoes in the gym. Kenma lifts his gaze as he watches his best friend approach you and watches as your eyes widen as Kuroo grips your chin.

"If Kenma doesn't appreciate your gifts, I sure will. If you ever get tired of him, give me a call, eh?" Yaku and Kai laugh loudly as you squeak and nod, before rushing out of the gym.

"Poor girl, did you see the look on her face? You've tormented her too much, Kuroo," Yaku says with a disapproving tone to his words, but there's a wide grin on his face that says otherwise.

"Relax, it's all just a bit of fun. You don't mind, do you Kenma?" And the boy turns to look at the blonde, dropping his mischievous expression as he faces Kenma with genuine concern. 

"No, of course not." Kuroo relaxes at the boy's response and beams. Kenma turns around towards the benches, ignoring the loud pounding of his heart and the ugly feeling that begins to boil in his stomach. 

                    ═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Despite the searing heat that spread across your face after fleeing from the gym, you'd like to think your mission went pretty well. One, you made it to the gym without chickening out and two, you talked to Kenma without looking like an idiot! And three, you handed over the bento box and it was successfully received. 

So you spend the rest of your day at school with a bright smile, the small interaction with Kenma being enough to lift your mood. Soon enough, the school bell chimes softly, and you walk to lunch with your friends, Azumi and Emiko.

While Emiko goes off to the vending machine, her brown hair bouncing with her each step, Azumi and you walk towards a lunch table. But you freeze in your steps at the sight ahead of you. With only a tree and a few bushes separating you two, Kenma and Kuroo walk languidly ahead of you and you quickly duck behind the bushes, pulling Azumi down with you. Before she can protest, you slap your hand over her mouth, signaling her to be quiet. 

"Shh!" You peek your head over the bushes, watching with rapt attention. Kenma walks side by side with Kuroo, the taller one gossiping as they approach a lunch table. They sit down at one of the tables blanketed under the shade of the trees, and your eyes widen as you watch Kenma pull out your bento box. He kept it! A small part of you was fearing he would drop kick it at a trash can, but you feel much more relieved now that you see him with your gift. The branches begin to scratch against your forearms and thighs, and your friend grumbles at your side about how the bushes are annoying, but you pay her no mind as you watch almost in slow motion as Kenma opens your bento box and begins to eat. He digs into the food with his chopsticks and you strain your ears to listen as Kuroo speaks. 

"Oh? You're eating the bento box Y/N prepared for you?"

Kenma's brows furrow as he rolls his eyes, before continuing to dig into the food, cheeks puffed out with food. He ignores Kuroo's teasing words, and you don't think the smile on your lips can grow any wider. Wow....have you ever felt this happy before? You can't describe the happiness, the joy, and the satisfaction that blooms from your chest and floods your mind at the sight of your crush eating your food. 

"Okay," you let out a deep breath as you dramatically fall back on the grass, closing your eyes in bliss. "I can peacefully die now..."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Azumi chides you but falls back onto the grass at your side, and you can't stop the giggle that leaves your lips. 

"But it's true," you mumble as you drape your arm over your eyes, blocking off the blinding sunlight. "Kenma took my bento box. Kenma Kozume, the boy I've crushed on for years, took my food! And he's eating it!"

"Nothing else can make you happier, huh?" Your friend says with amusement, and you hum. You push your arm away from your face, and stare at the bright sky, raising your hand upward and partially block the sun's rays. 

"There is something else," you murmur, and Kenma's face flashes across your mind. "But beggars can't be choosers. I'll take what I can."

"What do you want?" Azumi rolls to the side and propels herself with her arm, looking at you expectantly. "Tell me."

You glance at her briefly before looking away with a small smile. You gaze at the sky, and you notice a small, burning light that travels across the blue horizons. A shooting star? That can't be it. It's the middle of the day. But you furrow your brows, a small prayer whispered in your head as you respond to your friend.

"I wish Kenma's heart belongs to me as much as mine belongs to him."

Azumi snorts. She rolls her eyes and lays back down on the grass, and you stifle a giggle.

"Well, good luck with that." She murmurs, and you hum in response. You close your eyes and spread your arms on the grass as the wind gently blows across the open area. 

"Thanks. I'm going to need it." You murmur mostly to yourself, but then you open your eyes and raise yourself from the grass, peeking through the branches and leaves. Kenma is still scarfing down the food you made and Kuroo drinks some canned juice. And you feel newfound determination flooding through your veins as you turn and beam at your friend, eyes set on your goal.

"I can do it. I know I can."

Azumi chuckles, watching you with an amused smile. She then rises from the grass, stretching her limbs before outstretching a hand towards you. 

"Well if it's anyone that can do it, it's you." And you smile. With a small huff, you grab her hand and rise to your feet, feeling much more hopeful than before. 

     ═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

On the way home, you walk with Azumi and Emiko, but soon enough part ways since you three live on different streets. Humming absentmindedly, you swing your bag in your hands as you walk towards your home with no rush in your steps, feeling as if you have all the time in your hands. Your mind drifts back to Kenma- as it always does, and you smile. You're determined to win him over, but truthfully, you're not sure how. A small sigh leaves your lips, and you begin to pick up your pace when you hear a loud crash from the alley on your left.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you slowly turn around and look into the rather dark alley, feeling your heart pound loudly. Uh oh. This can't be good. But you're frozen in place, and all you can do is watch in slight horror as a large and tall figure stomps out of the alley, slowly leaving shadows as it steps into the light. And you find yourself looking at... a cat?

That is if you can call this...thing, a cat. 

Towering over you, the overweight white cat stands on its two paws, black and brown spots littering its fur. Strangely enough, the animal sports a dark blue kimono with a mustard yellow cloak draped over the clothing and a red scarf wrapped around its thick neck. And the weirdest of it all? The cat is smoking a pipe. Rather than being afraid, you're stuck in place as confusion swarms your thoughts.

"Uh..." You stare up at the cat, whose eyes are closed. "Hello?"

"Greetings, human." And the cat exhales a puff of smoke right on your face. Coughing, you furrow your brows with annoyance. "I've heard your prayers, so I am here with an offer."

Oh. Wait, what? How could've he heard your mental prayers? Maybe it was the shooting star- assuming it was a shooting star. But whatever the reason is, you don't dwell on it too much as you swallow and take a step back.

"Which is...?" You wait for the cat to continue. Maybe you're hallucinating, which wouldn't be too crazy to consider. Maybe you've been hallucinating this entire day because God knows it's been too good to be true. 

The cat harrumphs, before opening its cloak, revealing a set of colorful masks. Pretty, you murmur to yourself, and the cat chuckles.

"I heard your pleads, and I am here to help. But I'm no love god, so I cannot make that boy fall in love with you. However," he pauses and grins, sharp teeth glinting. "I am the Mask Seller. I give masks to cats who wish to be humans, and I give masks to humans who wish to be cats."

"..." You frown, not liking the strange glint in the cat's eyes. You don't trust him. "And how would that help me win Kenma over?"

The Mask Seller laughs loudly, his belly slightly bouncing. "I have been watching you and the boy for some time now. You, more than anyone, should know why being a cat will change things."

Racking your head for the answer, you go through your memories of Kenma. A cat? Why would being a cat change anything? But then it dawns on you, and a small noise of understanding leaves your lips. 

"He loves cats," you rush the words, eyes wide and the Mask Seller nods. "If I were a cat, I could approach him easily, and learn more about him! And then, I could use that information to become closer to him as a human-,"

"You catch on fast," the cat croons, and you nod eagerly. But then you frown. Why is he offering to help you? What does he get out of this?

"What are the conditions? Price? Rules?" You cross your arms over your chest, tapping your foot impatiently.

"No money involved," the cat's low voice has you relaxing, but you still can't let down your guard. This is too good to be true. "But there are some conditions and rules you have to follow. And a small fee." 

"I'm listening," you nod in understanding. The cat tugs one of the masks hanging from his cloak, a white cat mask that only covers the upper half of your face, with red and pink markings. He places it firmly in your hands, and then clears his throat. "The mask has a time limit. You can only wear it for one hour and a half per day. After that time, you will turn back into a human. And once my services are no longer needed, I will come to collect the mask. And my fee, of course." The glint in his feline eyes has you swallowing nervously, brows furrowing.

"What's this 'fee' you're talking about? You said I don’t have to pay you money." But the Mask Seller only chuckles before flipping backward, and you watch with a slackened jaw as he spins into the air, before floating down to a pipe and waves at you before swiftly squeezing down the passage.

"You'll see! Enjoy your new life." 

And then you're left alone, standing in front of the alley with a cat mask in your hands. 

Frowning, you stare down at the mask, turning it around. There's no engraving, inscription, or any indication of where it was made or such. Oh well. With a sigh, you hoist your bag around your shoulder and continue walking home, the cat mask held tightly in your hands.

Once you reach your home's doorstep, you stop. Pinching your arm, you wince at the stinging pain that shoots up your dream. Well, that crosses out one thing. You're not dreaming. 

Swinging the door open, you announce your arrival, take off your shoes and kiss your mother's cheek, before racing up the stairs towards your bedroom. You need to know whether the mask will work before getting your hopes up, or if you've been having major hallucinations the entire day. A part of you hopes for it to work. Dropping your school bag on the ground, you examine the mask once again, tracing your fingers over the marks. It's a bit similar to a kitsune mask. Taking a deep breath, you straighten your posture before raising the mask and clasping it tight against your face. 

And then it happens. A powerful breeze sweeps into your room, even though your windows are closed, and you feel the world spinning. Closing your eyes tightly, you slowly open them after a few seconds. 

Woah. When was your bag this big? Things look a bit different, a bit sharper. And you're definitely way smaller than before. Glancing downwards, you spot your paws. White, soft, furry paws. The paws of a cat.

Oh my God. It worked! You want to squeal and scream with excitement, but all that leaves your mouth is a small, gentle mew. 

Oh, right. You're a cat. You can't talk. So instead, you walk towards your balcony, thankful you didn't close it last night as you nudge it open with your head. Once it slides open, you take a step forward before examining your paws. You can retract your claws at your own will. That's pretty cool, you think, but it's time to test them out. Leaping forward, you sink your claws into the cement wall and climb upwards, surprised at how easy it is. Perhaps everything is easier as a cat. 

Once you've reached the top of the half-wall of your balcony, you begin to leap on roofs, tread on pipes and sidewalks until you've reached Kenma's house. Ever since you went there for a project in middle school, you've never forgotten his address. Is it creepy? Maybe- okay, yeah, it is creepy, but it's not like you stalk him! You simply memorized his address by heart. Blame it on your love haze from seventh grade, the same love haze that continues to influence your current actions. 

You walk around his house until you reach his bedroom window. You wonder what he'll think, seeing a white kitten peeking through his window. Dread boils in your stomach when you realize he might not even be home at all. What if he's still at volleyball practice? You might've come all the way here for nothing.

But much to your surprise, after climbing up to his window, you find yourself staring at him. Kenma sits at his desk, black headphones on his head as he scribbles on a piece of paper. He must be doing homework, you ponder. Deciding to not interrupt him just yet, you look around in his bedroom, observing the decoration. 

It's rather simple, with beige walls and a wooden floor. On the right corner of his room, a bed is pushed against the wall with pastel green blankets, and to the bed's left, there's a wooden desk with a PC, as well as several stacks of books, what seems to look like comics, and some gaming equipment. 

After you've gotten bored of looking around in his bedroom, you scratch at his window, mewing softly. He doesn't look up, and you find your stomach twisting. What if he just thinks you're a strange stray and ignores you? Or worse, kicks you out of his home? Dear God, you did not think this through. Why did you take that mask again? Your mother did tell you to never accept gifts from strangers. 

But before your endless cycle of overthinking can fully commence, your eyes widen as you watch Kenma pull off his headphones and stare at you through the window for a few seconds. You watch his short, dirty blonde hair slightly move with his movements and his slightly parted lips. And you know he sees nothing more but a white kitten, but a part of you hopes that he sees through the magic, and sees you. It's me, Kenma. 

Almost hesitantly, he walks over to his window and pulls it open. You sit down patiently and chirp softly once the window has been lifted. Kenma looks rather confused but doesn't say anything as he reaches a hand towards you and begins to gently scratch your chin. That feels good. You purr and lean into his touch, and you hear a soft chuckle leave his lips. Oh. My. God.

"How did you get up here?" He murmurs, mostly to himself and all you can do is meow in response. 

You watch as he stares at his closed door, before turning back to you. And then, you feel his warm and soft hands go underneath your arms as he picks you up from the edge of the window and brings you to his bed. Kenma runs his fingers through your white fur, and the heat his body emits is almost comforting and you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"You like cuddles, don't you?" He says, with a teasing smile that you've never seen before. If you were in human form right now, you're sure you would've passed out by now. 

You let out a soft mew and reach for his cheek with one of your paws, but Kenma laughs as he grabs your paw and squeezes it gently in his hand.

This is it. You've never seen Kenma smile before, much less laugh, and there are no words to describe how it makes you feel. All you can think about is that you need to see it again.

                   ═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Your life has taken a strange twist, to say the least. After enduring school, you race home and pull on the mask, heading straight to Kenma's house. You spend an hour there, cuddled in his arms or his lap as he plays video games, one of his hands resting on the top of your head. Kuroo has even come over a few times and seems to enjoy your presence as well. Kenma even feeds you sometimes, but most times you refuse, not liking how your stomach feels once you turn back human. 

"Mmm." Kenma hums as you lay on his chest, pressing his nose to the crook of your neck, buried between your fur. And you purr, closing your eyes. "You smell like heaven. But I wonder," he leans back for a moment, assessing your frame. "What's your name? Do you have a family?" 

"Give it a break, Kenma," Kuroo says at his side, reaching a hand to pet you. His movements are rather brutish and rough and you grumble as he pets your fur. 

"I'm sure she has a family that feeds her. You can't feel her bones or anything, she's a healthy weight."

The boy sighs in response, before sitting up on his bed, moving you to his lap. "But I still get worried," he gently runs his fingers through your fur. "Where does she go after coming here?"

You meow in response. I'm fine, Kenma. You don't need to worry over me. He chuckles, raising you to his face, his nose gently bopping against yours. You stare into his golden eyes, wondering how someone's eyes could be as beautiful and hypnotizing as his, and you feel yourself fall a little bit more in love.

"Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Kuroo says as he flops onto the bed, bouncing a volleyball in his hands. 

"Yeah," Kenma murmurs, and you don't miss the way he averts his eyes and how his voice lowers. Does he not like his birthday? "It's this Friday."

"I'm gonna get you some apple pie. Let's go to the park after school on Friday, and then we can go to that arcade you like going to." You turn to look at Kuroo. If you were in your human form, you would've been smiling softly. Though Kuroo can be loud and boisterous at times, you can tell that he cares for Kenma.

"Apple pie is good," he murmurs as his fingers scratch your head. "I like it."

 Your ears perk up at this as an idea pops into your head. Kuroo's going to give him apple pie, but probably store-bought. Which means you can bake him homemade apple pie and buy him a few more gifts. He'll love it! Seeing that his birthday is only in two days, you spring up from his chest and race towards the window. You don't have any time to waste. 

"Huh- wait!" You stop, hearing the sudden surprise in Kenma's words. Mewing softly, you lick your paw and meow one more time before leaping out of the window. That should suffice as a goodbye, right? It's not like you can go up to him and say, "See you later!" You're in the body of a cat, after all.

Once you've dropped down to the soft grass, you begin to make your way home, making mental calculations of what you need to buy and prepare. And you feel giddiness shoot through your chest, butterflies awakening in your stomach. Who knows, maybe the gift will win him over? You can only hope so. 

          ═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

By the time Kenma's birthday, October 16th, rolls by, you feel ready as ever. Speed walking to school, you're decked out in your school uniform, carrying the warm apple pie in one hand, and a gift bag in the other, while your bag is slung over your shoulders. You can't stop the giddy smile that crawls on your lips, which only grows wider at the sight of your two friends, Emiko and Azumi waiting for you at your designated spot. 

"Hey there," Azumi chimes in while Emiko gasps at the sight in your arms.

"Y/N! What's all this?" Her words are chipper and her eyes are wide as you smile and begin to walk towards the school, the two girls at your sides.

"It's Kenma's birthday today, so I decided to bake him apple pie and I bought him some gifts. I hope he'll like them," you feel your insecurities seep in your last words, slightly frowning as you look down at your apple pie. You were a good baker, having done many other desserts in the past, but you can't help but fear that he won't like your baking.

"Wow. You really went all out," Azumi comments and you giggle. The three of you continue to gossip as you walk towards Nekoma High and it isn't long until the school building towers over you. You feel your stomach twist as you take in a deep breath. 

Azumi pats your shoulder, while Emiko beams at you and gives you a thumbs up.

"You should give it to him before classes start. Good luck!" The brunette says with a wide smile and you smile back, before marching into the building. Here goes nothing. 

It takes you a few minutes to find Kenma, knowing he'll probably be in the gymnasium, but you decide to check some other classrooms just in case. When you can't find him in any classroom, you grimace and speedwalk towards the gym, knowing you're running out of time. You only have eight minutes left before the school bell rings and then you'll have to head to class. 

Once you've reached the gym, you slowly push the doors open, silently praying that only Kuroo and Kenma are in the gym. 

But your prayers go unheard as a ball rolls right towards your feet, and the boy's volleyball team freezes when they spot you. A small moment of awkwardness passes through before you clear your throat and walk towards Kenma, giving the other boys a tight-lipped smile. Kenma sits on one of the benches, drinking from his water bottle as a sheen layer of sweat rolls down from his forehead. When you stand in front of him, he sets his water bottle to the side and stares at you, mouth slightly parted open. 

"Happy birthday, Kenma. I hope you'll like it." You slightly bow before him, handing him over the gifts. He takes them silently, staring at them, and you decide to take this as your chance to escape. Quickly turning on your heel, you half-race out of the gym, feeling your face burn with embarrassment once again. And then you press your back against the gym's wall, catching your breath as your cheeks burn. But then you smile, a small laugh falling from your lips. You did it. 

═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

Kenma isn't a fan of birthdays. He'll endure his friend's birthdays and he'll even help with the surprise parties, but there's something about them that makes his stomach churn. Especially when it's his birthday. He's not the biggest fan of celebrating his birthday and he tries to avoid it when he can, but of course, Kuroo won't let it slip by this year.

He's barely arrived at the gym and Kenma frowns as he notices that no one's here yet. The gymnasium is dark and empty, and he wonders if he missed a memo or something. Did they not have practice today? 

He sighs, dropping his gym bag on the ground. He'll wait a few minutes, maybe he's early today? But then he hears something shuffle, and he freezes. What was that....?

Then a grumble. Kenma raises a brow, both confused and wary. Is there a ghost or are his teammates pranking him? Neither outcomes sound pleasant.

"...Who's there?"

A sigh. And then, before Kenma can brace himself, the entire volleyball team jumps from the bleachers, shouting eagerly. 

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Jesus Christ! Kenma jumps in his spot, heart thundering as he processes the situation. Okay, so not a ghost. Just his teammates being annoying as usual. Kuroo and Lev are grinning like doofuses, holding a banner that says, 'Happy Birthday Kenma!' Kai holds an apple pie in his hands, a serene smile on his face, Yaku holds the other end of the banner, and the rest of the first and second years hold balloons and throw streamers into the air.

All of this, just for him? 

"What's this?" Kenma murmurs, still wracking his brain as he tries to process his emotions. Lev's about to open his mouth, but Yaku reaches over and slaps his hand over the Russian's mouth, a forced smile on his lips.

Kuroo clears his throat, beaming. "Just a surprise celebration! We wanted to do something special. You don't turn seventeen every day."

And Kenma feels his chest warm, and there's a smile that's threatening to break onto his face, but he holds it back and gives them a small smile, not sure if he can handle so many emotions.

"...Thank you." And he is, he feels thankful and only feels even more thankful as his friends cheer and suddenly rush towards him, embracing him tightly in his arms. He can't help the laugh that leaves his lips and feels serene. Kenma's never been a fan of his birthday, but his friends make it a little bit better. 

     ═ ═ ═ ╰☆╮ ═ ═ ═

The team quickly calms down and begins practice, a few laps, then practicing their spikes and receives. Kenma walks over to the benches and takes a seat as he drinks from his water bottle when the gym doors creak open.

Everyone turns to look at the intruder, and Kenma's stomach squirms. It's you again. And he hates the way his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, and he hates the way it makes him feel.

It's dead silent, and you stand at the door for a second before quickly walking towards him, and Kenma's heart pounds even louder. He doesn't understand you. Why do you pursue him so much? You're cute, he can't deny it. So why, out of all the people in Nekoma High, did you chase after him? And why is it making his heart go wild?

"Happy birthday, Kenma. I hope you'll like it." You slightly bow before him, handing him over the gifts. A freshly baked apple pie that smells absolutely delicious, and a large red gift bag. 

Oh wow... He's speechless. He doesn't know what to say. It feels like with the surprise celebration, and it feels like too much. What is he supposed to say? But before he can even regain his composure, you're rushing out of the gym, and Kenma's stomach churns. Oh... 

Once the gym doors close with a loud slam, the entire team turns to look at him. They blink, and then they leap. Kenma yelps as the entire team rush towards him, yapping and all of them speaking at the same time.

"Lemme see what she got you!"

"Y/N L/N is so adorable!"

"Kenma, have you secretly been dating Y/N this entire time?!" Fukunaga pipes in, and Kenma finds his face heating up as his eyes widen.

"What?! Of course not!" And then Kuroo's snickering as he sits next to Kenma, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

"She's a sweet girl. Why don't you give her a chance?"

He lets out a shaky breath, his poor heart barely handling all the commotion. Kenma definitely needs at least one hour of cuddling with his white kitten after school to recover from all this. He blocks out what his friends say as his thoughts drift off, and he furrows his brows. 

Wait a minute. How did you know he likes apple pie?

A/N: Hey!! I hope you enjoyed the first half of this one-shot :)) I totally did not speedrun it 1-2 days before the collab event was live 😭😭I’ve been busy with school and just life in general so I haven’t had much time to write tbh. And plus I’m lazy :,) but anyway! I hoped you enjoyed it as much I enjoyed writing it :DD The 2nd and final part of this one-shot will be out this week!

Please REBLOG, like + comment if you enjoyed! <3 

COPYRIGHT © 2021 BY VELES. DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, OR READ MY CONTENT AS ASMR OR AUDIOFICS.

[ellitx]

Frailty | Kazuha x Reader

No matter how many times you've run away from your practices, Kazuha is always able to find you.

art belongs to rivaiiwah

word count: 1.8k

           Here you are with the cherry blossoms sprouting from the branches, looking to the casual eye as flowers until they bloom. Who pays attention to their chaotic stems that twist in the joy of new life until they wear colors that soothe the viewer’s perception.

           Then there they are in the air that becomes more welcoming each day, a community of colors, a feast for butterflies and bees. 

           A new beginning. 

           A little pink petal was plucked off from the group, letting it float alone in the air as it landed on your hand. Your eyes peered over the frond and lifted it up to the sunlight to observe the bright colors of it.

           “[Name]-sama, there you are.”

           You whipped your head and smiled at the caller when he approached you. “Kazuha? What brings you here?” You questioned as you fixed your hold on the parasol. His brows scrunched up and let out a sigh as he fixed the sleeve of his outfit. 

           “Ayaka-sama, was looking for you.”

           “Ane? Why’s that?” You questioned.

           He sighed once again and pinched your cheeks a bit harshly. “You need to practice your purification rituals. Your siblings are looking for you again and now they’re worried about you.”

           “Ah— Kazuha, that hurts…!” You grasped his hand to release his hold on your face, but to no avail, he won’t budge. Seconds later, he finally and slowly let go and spared your cheeks from reddening to which you rubbed it to alleviate the sharp pain.

           His gaze went to the blooming flower of cherry blossoms and watched how the wind fluttered the petals. Ruby gems have softened at the sight of the newly sprung tree before focusing on the young princess of Kamisato.

           Your name uttered from his lips making you arch a brow at him in puzzlement. His lips parted slightly and waited for a moment before asking. “I’m just wondering why are you here. There are sakura trees at your residence, though.” He stated as he scratched his cheek with his index finger.

           Your throat hummed and looked at the sky in wonder. “Ah that… I think you already know the answer to that.” He knew for sure he saw your eyes glinted in mischief when you looked at him. 

           That smirk plastered on your face didn’t go unnoticed by him. He was quiet for a minute making you giggle and stifle it with your hand. Kazuha groaned in flicked your head much to your surprise.

           “Ouch!”

           “I’m taking you back to the Kamisato residence whether you like it or not.” 

           “Kazuha!! No please—“

—

           “Oh my, it seems like he already found her.” The young mistress giggled and watched both of you entered through the main gate with the swordsman pushing you inside. You were writhing and shaking your arm, doing your best to escape from him.

           At the sight of your face, your brother’s smile widened, and quickly wore his geta and engulfed you in a bear hug. “[Name], where have you been?! I was worried sick when I saw you weren’t inside your room!” He screeched and cried hysterically before glaring at Kazuha.

           It sent a shiver down his spine before averting his gaze away from Ayato and squared his shoulders. “Hmph, I could’ve found her on my own, but the archon must have graced you to guide my little sister back home.” Your brother grumbled as he patted your head in an assuring manner. You heaved a sigh and mouthed a sorry to your friend which he just waved it off.

           Ayaka reached to where the three of you are and deeply bowed to Kazuha in thanks. “Thank you and sorry for bothering you to look for [Name]. We’ll be sure to compensate you greatly.” She remarked and motioned for him to come inside.

           “It’s fine, Ayaka-sama. I was just happy and relieved to know she didn’t stray too far from here.” He peeked at you from the corner of his eyes before looking back at your older sister.

           “You can drop the formalities. And also, aniki, you’re suffocating [Name].” She respired and pulled you away from Ayato’s loving hugs making you sigh in relief and thank her.

           He pouted and huffed before crossing his arms and narrowly eyed you. His nature quickly changed in a blink and you know for sure you’re in a trouble just the way he lightly frowned at you.

           “[Name].” Your body shivered and avoided looking at him as you cowered behind Kazuha. “Y-yes…?” You muttered softly and tightly gripped on his clothes. 

           “Why did you skipped practicing?” You gulped down your fear and sheepishly smiled at Ayato, trying to think of an excuse. 

           “Well, it’s spring! You know how much I love sakura flowers and watch them bloom before me, aniki!” A peal of tense laughter slipped from your mouth and nudged Kazuha asking for help. Your [eye color] eyes were pleadingly gazed upon his for help as you shook his arm lightly to get him to understand your gestures.

           Sighing for an umpteenth time on this day. He faced Ayato sternly making him pause when he saw Kazuha’s face got darker. A bead of sweat rolled down his temples yet never faltering his stare onto him.

           “Ayato-sama, just lock the door if she ever escapes again.” Kazuha’s eyes returned back to their usual light and grabbed you by your shoulders, placing you in front. His fingers pointed at you and then grinned slyly at you.

           Your eyes widened but before you could open your mouth to speak out, his words made you stopped in your tracks and your face paled while your lips were parted a bit. “If she does run away again, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll make sure she does her practices frequently.”

           The cunning smile glued on his pretty face made you scared. From the other’s perspective he seemed like an innocent and nice teen, but for you, oh you know that smile very well. He didn’t want to indulge in your escapades and he’s going to pay you back with his own mischievousness. 

    —

           “Sein!”

           You threw a talisman onto the dummy as your index and middle finger were stick together and the rest were closed. “Sein?” Kazuha’s brow raised in bewilderment at your chant and stared at the dummy. He was expecting something would happen but sadly there was none.

           It only stood still, remaining unchanging. “[Name], it’s read as sho-shi-tsu.” Ayaka said as she removed the piece of paper on the figurine. “And isn’t sein something you would hear in Mondstadt?” 

           Your lips formed a grin as your optics shined brightly in excitement. “Sein sounds way cooler than shoshitsu!” A strong impact was thrown on your head making you cry in pain and place your hand on it protectively.

           “[Name]-sama, please take this seriously.” Kazuha exhaled through his nose and stretched your cheeks making you whine even more at the increasing pain. Ayaka laughed lightly at the sight of you two as she took the brush from your hands.

           “I guess we can practice next time, is that alright with you? I still have to practice my sword fight with Tohama.” Ayaka awaited your response while she kept the materials back to their rightful place.

           You merely giggled and shoved her playfully. “It’s fine~ Have a nice date with him!” Her face flushed and her silver eyes widened in surprise as she continuously stuttered. 

           “I-it’s not a date!”

           “Right, right.” You pushed her out of the room and gave her a hug before closing the door gently. You leaned your body against it and heaved a sigh at the exhausting purification practices.

           It really tired your mind and body so much. Even though you joke around sometimes to loosen up that stiff body of yours, you know you still need to work hard on it because of your duty as a shrine maiden. 

           Purifications are much needed and required in the Kamisato house. Ayaka has already mastered everything from arts to music and even poetry, and yet here you are, not even having the slightest talent like her to accomplish such things.

          Ayaka is the embodiment of perfection and nobleness, there's no doubt about that. Her form is even more elegant than yours and how she handles tea ceremonies more delicately unlike you who somehow still spills the tea from nervousness no matter how much you've practiced mastering it.

           It really tired you out how they expect so many things for you. 

           Being noble is really hard.

           The anemo-user noticed your destitute appearance and slowly approached you. 

           “[Name]-sama?” 

           You snapped out from your deep thoughts and shakily looked at him. “O-oh, Kazuha. I forgot you were still here…” You coughed and fixed your outfit, giving him a curious glance and asked.

           “Is something the matter?” 

           “I should be the one asking you that. It seems like something’s troubling you.”

                      His brows furrowed in worry and took a closer look at your well-being. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad I don’t have to practice anymore, it really tired me out. Ugh…” You grumbled and rested your hand on your stomach when you felt it rumbled.

           “Do you want to eat outside?” Your ears perked up and nodded eagerly like a child. For a second, you thought you saw him smile before it quickly disappeared. He offered his hand to you which you gladly accepted as he lead you to the exit of the room.

           “Kazuha’s treating me~” You sang joyfully, thinking of the foods from the stalls. Or maybe he’ll treat you to eat at a restaurant? Just thinking of it made your stomach growled even more from hungriness and excitement, imagining that freshly cooked takoyakis or even those crispy golden-brown tempuras.

           Even with all the smiles and laugh you give off, he can’t help but be bothered that you’re hiding something. You always shake off whenever he asks if you’re fine or if you needed anything.

           He wished that you could rely on him and trust him, to tell him all the troubles that have been piling up inside you. He has known you for a long time now, and yet why can’t you open up to him some more?

           If maybe, just maybe— one day he’ll be able to finally tell you how he feels. He’ll even go as far as looking for you if you escaped once more. He hopes you’ll notice the signs he’s been giving that he’s there for you and you don’t have to bottle it up.

           He wants to tell you that it’s alright to cry and feel vulnerable. He’ll love everything about you, even your own imperfections.

           Just the way you accepted and love everything about himself.

did i just write for an unreleased genshin chara? yes, yes i did, and im ready to simp for him

[omg-imatotalmess]

Pet Names

Hey guys! I have had the headcanon that George would turn into a puddle when you call him something sweet, and my hypothetical question got lots of positive responses. So, here I am, yet again, offering a subby boy because that’s my specialty. Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!), sub!George, dom!reader, pet name kink, praise kink, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, riding, swearing

                                                            ---

There was one thing about dating George Weasley that was an absolute fact: George loved pet names. Of course, you knew that to a degree. Since you started dating, it had become a rarity that he called you by your given name. You would have hated it from anyone else. Pet names typically weren't your thing, but you couldn't bring yourself to hate them when his voice dripped with sweetness. However, it never really occurred to you that he might want you to use them too. It wasn't until the two of you were lying on a couch in the Room of Requirement that you even thought about it. 

Snuggled up to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he dozed, you began to reflect on the whole pet name situation. He always had something sweet on the tip of his tongue while you only ever called him George. Georgie, if you were feeling particularly affectionate. You wondered if it bothered him that you didn't have a cute name for him. It wasn't like he'd ever asked, but sometimes he had trouble asking for things that he thought were embarrassing without joking about it. He always gave you delightfully cheesy nicknames when people were around that could easily be brushed off as joking. So maybe the embarrassment thing was the case. He just didn't exactly know how to ask. 

"I can hear the wheels turning in your head, sweetheart," George said, breaking you from your musings. 

"Sorry, go back to sleep," you said, nuzzling his neck affectionately. 

"Wasn't sleeping before anyway. Even if I was, what goes on in that brain of yours has to be more interesting," he said. Smiling, you rolled completely on top of him so you could see him better. "Well, hello there." 

"You caught me. I was thinking again," you said. 

"Were you thinking about me?" 

"Why, yes, in fact, I was." 

"How embarrassing. Do you have a crush on me or something, love?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"You're an idiot," you said fondly. "Really, though, I wanted to ask you something." The playfulness drained from his face immediately as he adopted a more serious expression. He almost looked a little worried. Smiling, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss between his furrowed brows in an attempt to make the wrinkle go away. 

"Is something wrong?" he asked. 

"No, I was just thinking about the nickname thing," you said. Your answer did nothing to relieve the expression. 

"Don't you like them? I'll call you something else if you want." You shook your head. 

"Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to call you something else. Do you want cute names too?" you asked. George shifted under you, his expression morphing into one you'd become incredibly familiar with. A bright red flush bloomed over his cheeks as an almost concerningly wide grin pulled at his lips. 

"Thought you'd never ask snookums!" he laughed nervously, "Here I thought you were about to let Ron and Hermione out cute us. Personally, I think you should go for something like 'the sweetest love of my life and future husband.' The whole phrase. Just to prove them that we're the cuter pair." As he rambled, you found yourself becoming more and more amused by his expert avoidance of your eyes. 

"George?" Your voice was gentle but prodding, cutting his nervous speech short. Blinking, he offered another nervous laugh. 

"Yes, darling, sweetness, light of my life?" he asked. 

"Breathe," you said. 

"Right. I'll live a lot longer if I do that," he said, pulling in a steadying breath. Smiling, you ran your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him further. 

"Now, as much as I truly do like 'the sweetest love of my life and future husband,' it's kinda a mouthful," you said. 

"That's what she said," George rattled off automatically. 

"Jesus, I didn't mean to fluster you so bad. I'm sorry, sunshine," you said, testing the name.

And he whimpered. It was just a soft, breathy little sound. One you would have missed if you hadn't quite literally been laying on his chest. You weren't even sure if he was aware he'd done it, but, Christ, were you happy he did. That one little sound told you so much. Not to mention the way his fingers squeezed needily at your hips and that his eyes seemed to lose focus. Suddenly, you felt like you were taking up his entire field of vision. Nothing beyond you existed. Not to him. All that for just one simple word. 

"You like, sunshine?" you asked. 

"I dunno if it has the same ring as, uh, as whatever it was that I said, but it's alright," he said, squirming under your penetrating gaze. 

"Just alright? You want something else?" you teased.

"If you-if you think you can c-come up with something better," he stuttered. 

"Okay, baby boy," you purred.

If you thought sunshine had done it for him, baby boy blew that out of the water. A shiver tore through his body right down to his fingertips as his mouth dropped open into a quiet moan. Despite the low volume, the sound echoed in your ears. It dripped with pure need. As though he couldn't go another second without you touching him. The cherry flush that bloomed high in the apples of his cheeks swooped over the tips of his ears. He was beautiful. Enticing. And you were only human. Leaning forward, you traced your tongue up the shell of his ear, biting it lightly. 

"That better?" you muttered against his ear. Pulling back, you watched as George opened and closed his mouth, fishing for anything to say in response. He wasn't having much luck, just spitting out collections of sounds that didn't quite resemble words. 

"Come on, baby boy, use your words," you said, cupping his cheek and rolling your thumb over his bottom lip. 

"Yes." His voice cracked on the word. 

"Good boy," you said, smirking like a well-fed cat, "Now, how 'bout we get you out of those clothes. I wanna see all of my pretty baby." 

"Please," he breathed. Carefully, you repositioned yourself, so you had full access to his clothing. You only managed a couple of buttons before his much larger hand curled around one of yours. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles. 

"I love you, (Y/N)," he said. Smiling, you pulled his hand to your mouth and returned the gesture. 

"I love you too," you replied. 

With your hand back, you made quick work of his shirt. You pushed it open and took in the lightly freckled expanse of his chest. His skin was a swirl of cinnamon-colored constellations. You trailed your fingers across them, admiring the trail of goosebumps the left behind. George was lovely. Devastatingly so. Bringing your head down, you followed the same path your fingers had taken, stopping briefly to lap at his nipples. He whined softly at the attention, tangling his hands in your hair. 

"You're so beautiful," you said. 

You kissed up his chest to his lips, and he tilted his head to meet you. His lips pressed hungrily to your own. The faint taste of honey teased your senses as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. You loved that he always managed to taste sweet. Lightly, you ran your tongue over his own, savoring that elusive sweetness for as long as you could. Slipping your hand down to rub him through his pants, you were surprised to find him fully hard. Even though you'd barely touched him, he was straining against his zipper. 

"(Y/N)," he whimpered against your mouth. 

"I bet that's uncomfortable. You want me to take care of that, baby boy?" you asked, popping the button. 

"Please. Please take care of it," he begged, bucking his hips into your hand. Without responding, you pushed his pants down to his thighs while trailing burning kisses down his torso. You pressed a kiss to each of his hip bones before wrapping your hand around his cock. Giving it a few long, slow strokes that had him bucking into your hand, you looked up at him. 

"Tell me what you want," you said. 

"Your mouth. Please, (Y/N)," he said quickly. 

"Anything for my sweet baby boy," you said. 

Slowly, you dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, paying special attention to the ridge of the head. A low moan sounded above you. You took a moment to appreciate the sound before sinking his cock into your mouth. His hips bucked, and you gagged slightly. Breathing softly through your nose, you gripped his hips tightly to keep him from doing it again. You bobbed your head slowly, running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. 

"C'mon, don't tease," George begged, straining against your restrictive grip. 

You didn't say anything but picked up the pace slightly. Removing on hand from its place on his hip, you fondled his balls and teased lightly at his perineum. His hips flexed wildly against your hand. It only took swallowing around him once before he was calling out warnings and groaning loudly into the open air. You pulled off before he could cum, ignoring the disappointed whine. 

"Wanna come. Please, (Y/N), I wanna come so bad," he cried, bucking into the air looking for friction. 

"I know, baby boy," you said, shimmying out of your pants. "I wanna be ridding you when you do, but you gotta prep me first. Can you do that for me? Can you finger me until I'm nice and open for you, baby boy?" 

"Uh-huh," he said, fumbling for the lube that appeared on the table. Turning, you presented yourself to him, so he had better access. Gentle as always, he sunk a long finger into you. 

"That's my good boy," you sighed. As he fingered you open, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the backs of your thighs. You wrapped your hand around his cock again, stroking it in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Then he curled them a bit. 

"There! That's it," you mewled, rocking back against him. 

"More!" He obediently added another finger. 

"Am I making you feel good?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Whether it was from moaning or just from the idea that he was bringing you pleasure, you couldn't tell. 

"So good," you said. You felt his cock twitch in your hand, and he shivered. 

"Close," he whimpered. 

"Let me sit on your pretty cock, baby boy," you purred. Almost reluctantly, he slipped his fingers from you, and you positioned yourself over him. Neither of you was interested in waiting long. Once he was fully seated inside you, you could already feel him shivering with the effort not to cum. 

"Move?" It came out as a question. Both asking your permission and begging you to ride him until he was shaking with overstimulation. 

Picking up your hips, you dropped them back slowly. You savored the slight burn of the stretch. Hands quickly found your hips. And then you were moving. You weren't sure if he'd thrust up into you or if you'd started this pace on your own. You didn't care. It didn't matter when he was hitting that spot inside you just right. 

"So good, baby boy! Right there!" you cried. 

"So tight. So good. Wanna cum! Please can I cum?" he begged, digging his fingers into your hips in a way that would definitely bruise. 

Pulling his chin up with two fingers, you kissed him like your life depended on it. Tongues tangled sloppily, your teeth clicked together, and the angle was a little off considering the constant motion. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to care with him, whining obscenities into your mouth. Begging to cum so prettily. If you were a little meaner or not so desperate yourself, you'd draw it out a little longer. Maybe next time. Separating with a wet pop, you smoothed your thumb across his spit-slick, swollen lips. 

"Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?" you asked. He nodded, hooded eyes staring at you pleadingly. 

"Close, close, please," he whined, dropping his head forward to your chest.

"Cum, baby boy." With a long, low moan, he was gone. He pounded sloppily into you with uncontrolled thrusts, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Between that and the sight of his utterly wrecked expression, you went tumbling over the edge after him. Your own shout of pleasure shook the room. Your thighs trembled with the force of it. For a second, you swore, you stopped breathing. 

"Holy fuck," you panted as you came down from your high. 

"Felt pretty holy to me," George said, leaning heavily against the arm of the couch. 

"When I find my brain, I'll say something witty," you said. You let him slip out of you, opting to ignore the mess running down your thighs in favor of laying against his chest again. 

"Anytime you wanna do that again, I'd happily oblige, love," he said. 

"You just fucked my brain across the room while I called you baby boy, and you're already thinking about round two?" you snorted.  

"Should I not be?" Well, round two did sound pretty good. 

"Give me a hot minute, and I'll get right on that, sunshine." You didn't miss the love in his dark eyes as he gazed down at you with a crooked grin. Or the way his cock twitched in interest.  

[nanaminokanojo]

[7:06 PM] Oikawa X You

LOG #8 OF MY HAIKYUU!! TIMESTAMP DRABBLES

CHARACTERS: Oikawa Toru X You WORD COUNT: 1,200+ GENRE: fluff | comfort TRIGGER WARNING: mild separation anxiety SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

A smile unconsciously drew itself across your lips at the feeling of Oikawa's hair between your fingertips. You've always liked his chocolate locks, even more when you were carding your hands through them. You sat on the couch while he was on the floor, shoulders between your legs. He's busy watching a volleyball match on his phone, no doubt knit-picking details from the players he could possibly go against. He's in the zone, and you know he could not be bothered when he decides to concentrate on this particular endeavor.

You didn't mind the stretches of silence between the two of you, satisfied with just being a latent presence moving around him. You understood the pressure that was on him being an international athlete, and if he wants time for it, you weren't going to stop him. It makes him happy. And if he's happy, you can rest easy.

But that wasn't always the case.

You hummed as you bent down slightly, catching his scent in the air as you inhaled deeply. He smelled like summers of old, faded roses and candy floss, the distinct hints heightening over the others depending on the circumstances. At that moment, he was a direct line to things which reminded you of happiness and easier days under the warmth of the sun just as summer gives up to fall.

Unable to hold back, you placed both your arms on his shoulders, burying your nose at the back of his head. You luxuriated in the smooth strands of his hair tickling your cheeks, the scent of his shampoo filling your senses. You nuzzled his nape, lightly brushing your lips on the side of his neck before wrapping your arms around him and propping your chin on his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" he asked, feigning annoyance except that you could hear the smile in his tone.

"Clamoring for your attention?" you offered to which he chuckled. You weren't one to do that, not even where he was concerned, knowing how independent you are that he felt useless where taking care of you was involved. Instead, you took care of him.

"And you think you're succeeding by…sniffing me?"

"The fact that you noticed means I am," you countered. "I love smelling you."

Oikawa reached up, patting you on the head, his eyes still glued to his phone.

You pecked him on the spot just below his ear. "I want my boyfriend back."

"You're holding onto him."

As if on cue, your eyes started to feel hot from behind, that tight feeling pervading your chest as you thought of how limited your time with him is. Most of his days were spent halfway around the world, the chances you could be with him, holding onto him like that, was when you felt dread the most. He will leave again, and you will have to adjust to his absence once more, the phase lasting for a rather long time before you're sure you are back on track again.

"Not for long." You withdrew, holding back the sobs that wanted to break free from your throat. You spoke in a steady tone because you didn't want him to worry. You want him to be happy by doing what he wanted, and you wanted nothing but to support him. But after all is said and done, you're only human, and you craved his presence constantly.

"Y/N, I wouldn't be leaving for another two weeks," he told you gently as you moved out of the couch, your feet hurriedly carrying you to the direction of the bedroom. "Baby, where are you going?"

You did not reply to his query, making a straight path towards the bed where you finally collapsed, curling into a fetal position as your tears silently fell. When you heard him enter the room, you grabbed a pillow and covered your face with it as if it would hide the evidence of your misery. You felt him sit beside you, tugging at it, but you held on tight, refusing to let him see your tears.

Instead of prying it off you, he laid down behind you, molding himself to the shape you've assumed. It was his turn to bury his face into your hair, doing as you did earlier as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and planting butterfly kisses on your nape and shoulders.

"As much as I hate seeing you cry, I'm relieved you feel that way at the prospect of me leaving," he told you then, his pretty voice ringing into your ears over the blood rushing to your head.

At that, you tossed the pillow away and faced him. You sniffed. "What's that supposed to mean? I always feel miserable when you leave."

Oikawa's lower lip jutted out at the sight of your tears. "You never show me. The last time I left, you hugged me, turned away and left."

"I didn't want to upset you. You're the one who's going to be on a long flight. You think I want you to see me crying beforehand?"

He cupped your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs, his touch tender and warm. "I upset you this much, huh?"

You shook your head. "Not you. Never you, Toru." You snuggled closer to him, relishing his warmth. "This is why I don't want you to see me like this. I will support you no matter what even if it means we need to be apart. But I do get crazy sad when you're away."

Your words were followed by silence from his end. He started planting kisses on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"I've been meaning to ask you something for a while now," he broke the silence.

Looking up at him, you waited for him to speak further. He met your gaze, his bright eyes swirling with conflict.

"I would like you to come with me if you want to," he began. "I've been wanting to tell you that since the second time I came home, but I don't want you to just leave everything for me. I don't want you to think I don't support your endeavors."

Your eyes widened. "Move to Argentina, you mean?"

He nodded. "I thought it would be nice if we can spend more time together. It's kinda tiring not being able to see and hold you for long periods of time. And I thought it'd be a good way to take our relationship a step further."

You just blinked at him, unaware that he had such thoughts going on inside his head when you've had this agreement before, that if things didn't work out, you would both go your separate ways.

"You have the absolute say on it. I don't want to –"

You cut him short by seizing his lips with yours, hoisting yourself up to run your fingers into his hair and kissing him slow and gentle but with all the feeling of gratitude and love you felt for him. You held onto him, glad that you did for the last four years.

You withdrew, smiling when you saw the dazed look on his face. "I'll gladly leave everything for you, Toru. Hell, I'll learn Spanish for you."

"Yeah? You'll do that?" The eagerness and joy blooming into a smile on his face was unmistakable. That's all you wanted, his happiness. "I promise we'll come home as much as you want. I'll arrange it."

You snickered and hugged him, settling your head on the crook of his neck while your hand reached for his, twining your fingers together. "No need for that. As long as you're with me, I'm home."

-end-

God, that GIF!!! I'm like Fiona in "Shrek" with her little pink diary repeatedly saying, "Mrs. Fiona Charming" except my head goes, "Mrs. Oikawa *insert my name*." お願いだから、寝かせてください 、徹ちゃん。

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY FURUDATE HARUICHI’S “HAIKYUU!”. [20210825]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[luimagines]

Date Night with The Chain Part 2!

Masterlist

Part 1

Part two will include Four, Wild and Time!

Content under the cut!

Four

A sigh leaves your lips as you finally sit down after a long day.

There was a large stone jutting off of the side of a cliff where your group had decided to camp for the night. It had a high vantage point and the entrance was hidden by the surrounding foliage, making it a cozy secluded resting spot for ten weary travelers.

Your feet sighed with relief with the weight off of the them and you began to kick them back and forth. After some moment to yourself you pull your legs in and take off your shoes. 

You resume kicking your feet into the wind, more relieved than you were before without shame.

“Rupee for your thoughts, my darling?” You hear him come up from behind.

“No thoughts, head empty.” You snort and glance over your shoulder. “Join me?”

Four has his hands on his hips as he stands there, watching you with a calm smile and hearts in his eyes. “If you’d have me.”

“As if I could ever turn you away.” You look back out into the distance, pointedly ignoring the commotion of Legend tackling Warrior in the background.

Four doesn’t even try to hide his laughter when he sees what’s happened but comes to sit by your side regardless of what is happening with the others.

You watch him as he lowers himself down and are only marginally confused when he shifts to sit on his hip instead- oh no wait- Four leans over after shifting his body around to place his head directly into your lap.

You grin and waste no time in running your fingers through his hair, taking his hairband out and letting it all fall across your legs. “Comfortable?”

“Best spot, hands down.” Four snuggles a little close and turns his head to look beyond what the rock has to offer.

The sun has begun to set and even if your friends are busy losing their minds in the background it surprisingly easy to tune them out with Four by your side. As the sky turns from blue to orange and reds with the feint outline of purple at the top, you and Four watch the day end with gentle smiles on your faces.

On a whim you begin to braid his hair, letting them collect in number even if it’s messy and unorganized. 

“Having fun?” Four sighs and pokes your knee a little.

“Yes.”

“Good... Feels nice.”

You can’t help but grin to yourself and wait a minute before undoing it all and starting over with more purpose in mind. “I wish I had flowers or feathers or something... Maybe some ribbon... Make it look pretty and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“And stuff.”

“Why not use my head band?”

“It’s too big and if I’m going to use ribbon it should be made out of silk or satin, only the highest quality of materials for my love.” You say and lean over to give him a kiss on his forehead.

“I don’t think it’s necessary.” Four raises an eyebrow and you can see that he’s on the cusp of falling asleep.

Everyone is tired.

“Maybe not but I say you deserve it, so it must be so.”

“I love you.” Four mumbles sleepily and you know that a this point if someone were to wake him up he’d be grumpy until the next morning.

“I love you too.” You smile and let him sleep against you.

The sun sets and it’s nice.

Wild

“Do you need any help?” You walk up to Wild as he’s beginning to take out whatever ingredients needed to get dinner started.

You stand a little ways behind him and wait for him to turn around. He pauses from arranging the vegetables and glances over his shoulder to look at you.

You smile as pleasantly as you can and laced your fingers together behind your back, trying to look at innocent as possible, trying to visually butter him up to let you help him.

Wild knows what you’re doing. You do this every time.

And every time he melts a little on the inside at your genuine joy and want to help him out. Not to mention that he thinks it’s cute and would give you his everything in a heartbeat before you could even ask.

“Of course you can help.” He grins and stands up. “I have to check the fire but do you think you can peel the potatoes and carrots for me please.”

“Sure!” You skip ahead and take his spot, picking up the peeler he left out and begin to get to work. 

“Thank you.” Wild smiles as he turns away again, picking the fire and checking the temperature. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“If you could cut them too, that would be nice.” 

“Are you asking me to?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

Wild smiles to himself at the exchange. The others are minding their own business, tending to their weapons or licking their wounds from the day and just simply hanging out with people who know what it’s like to be the hero more than any one in the history of Hyrule.

It’s nice.

Domestic even.

You start to hum a little tune that must be from your home because it seems like no one else can recognize it. It’s light and a little sappy if the way you’re swaying your head has anything to say about it.

Wild feels himself fall a little more in love with you, even if you’re not looking at him.

He’s been done with checking the fire for five minutes, but he doesn’t want you to stop for the sake of answering him again.

But he should probably start cooking the meat while the vegetables are being prepared.  

Wild slides over to your side and picks up the Shekah Slate from where he left it. He chances a glance at you and thinks... it’ll be a last minute change to the meal he’s prepared in his head, but maybe he’ll cook your favorite tonight instead.

You deserve it.

“Ok, what else Master Chef?” You look his way and blink, instantly going a little red in the face. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just love you is all.” Wild leans in and kisses your forehead, snagging the cutting board from under you and spinning around to throw them into the pot.

“Hey...” You pout, trying to save face and failing. “That’s... not fair...”

“How is it not fair?” He laughs. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I... refuse to let you win.”

“Win what? What are you talking about?”

You step over and kiss his cheek. “You’re too good to me. And the carrots are going to burn.”

“Wha- Hey!” Wild spins back to attention and tries to save the carrots from the hot metal. “Ok- I- Hold up!”

“Do you want me to start cutting up the green beans too?” You smirk.

“This isn’t over.”

“Yes or no?”

“...”

“...”

“..Yes please.”

Time 

“Ok, I know you said we were going somewhere tonight but why are we sneaking out of the inn like teenagers?” You say as Time looks around the corner.

“Shh...” Time puts a finger to hip lips as he looks back at you. “Do you really think the boys wouldn’t try to follow us if they knew?”

“Is it that important for them to not come?” You tilt your head. Sure, they were a bit rambunctious at times and a bit more rowdy than you knew what to do with but they were good kids and you loved them all- so the secrecy was a little lost on you.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend an evening alone with the one I love?” Time turns to you and takes your hands in his, lifting them to kiss your knuckles. “Just for tonight?”

The thought of being alone together hadn’t even occurred to you and it’s embarrassing to have Time basically spell it out for you. A blush blooms across your face and you bite your lip with a quick glance to your toes. It has nothing to do with the kiss, you’re sure.

“Ok.” You whisper. “Ok, I’ll be quiet. Is the coast clear?”

Time smirks when he sees your reaction, more than pleased with himself before he turns around and checks around the corner one last time.

He grins and gives you his hand, holding you gently as you creep through the hallways together. After a few twists and turns and near trips from walking on your tip toes, you make it out of inn.

You ignore the weird looks from the inn keeper as you leave. They don’t understand the length the boys would go through to spy and/or ruin this for you two intentionally or otherwise.

Time looks up to the window of one of the room you’ve rented before pushing you quickly out of its line of sight.

You follow him wordlessly and look back just in time to see Warrior lean up against the window. He’s not looking out, merely resting where the people below can see him but the thrill of not being caught shoots through you and you force yourself to act natural and look away from the inn entirely.

“What the plan, beloved?” You shoot a grin his way and skip to match his pace.

“I don’t have one. I wasn’t entirely sure we’d get this far.” Time admits and lets his child like glee show on his face. 

Your heart swells when you see it. It’s not often you get to see this side of him and you’re happy to indulge him in these moments when he has them.

“We could just walk around?” You pull yourself closer to him and lean against his side. “Sight see? Shopping?”

Time lets go of your hand to instead wrap his arm around your waist and pulls you even closer so that you’re flush against him. “I’m not sure... I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“Wine tasting?” You try again, pointing to the sign outside of a small hole in the wall shop.

Time actually stops in his tracks and glances at the shop in front of you. “A brilliant idea darling. Shall we go have a look?”

“We shall.” 

Together you walk into the shop despite the later hour and see couples with the similar idea and calmly sharing drinks with one another. Time breaks off from you as you wander further into the space. You glance around the sparely decorated room and glance at the various signs and bottles to see their designs. You pick up a bottle and swirl around the liquid inside, watching it rise and fall against the green colored glass.

Time comes back in seconds, glaring at one of the other persons without your knowledge when they try to make a move closer to you. 

“Here.” He takes a calmly breath and hands you a glass. It’s halfway filled with a warm colored amber liquid and it piques your interest instantly.

“Thank you.” You take it and take a sip. It’s as warm as it looks and strangely smells like strawberries.

Time finally looks at you again when the person leaves and takes a sip from his own glass. It’s more crimson than you’d imagine possible and you have to wonder how it would taste. “Can I try?”

“Hm?” Time looks at the glass and back to you, handing it to you with out much thought.

He tries to it with your own but you’re faster than he is. You lean into his space on your tip toes and place a bold kiss on his lips.

They’re soft and laced with the tangy wine from his previous sip.

“Yum.” You wink and take another sip from your own wine.

Time stands there stunned before he smirks and takes you hand with the glass away before leaning down to kiss you properly. He takes it slow and holds you there for a moment despite the fact that you’re in a public space.

He pulls back just as slowly and finishes with a final kiss to your forehead.

“Can’t do that with the boys around.” He mutters to himself.

“Nope.“ You giggle and go back to sipping your wine. “But I’m not complaining.”

Part 3

[robininthelabyrinth]

Because There Was a Boat—Brand new sect leader JC is heavily dependent on MY for advice and MY is LIVING for it. Can be platonic, but I think some dubious MY/JC would be interesting!

ao3

There was something deeply gratifying about being Sect Leader Jiang’s aide, Meng Yao reflected.

It was something he hadn’t ever realized he’d wanted, caring for someone like that – he’d sworn a million times over that he’d be a son of Lanling Jin, high above the common people as he’d been low beneath them as the son of a whore, and after the fiasco at Jinlin Tower he’d resigned himself to having to bow his neck down to someone if it gave him the in he needed to manipulate them.

Even now, he was, technically, a servant.

He didn’t care.

Not when Jiang Cheng woke up every morning with eyes reddened by nightmares and all the tears that he didn’t shed during the day, when he communicated only through scowls and grimaces and growled out threats – except for Meng Yao.

Meng Yao got his smiles.

He got the adorably reddening cheeks, the ducked head, the shuffled feet; he got the eager gaze of praise me, praise me – he held the entire fate of the Jiang sect in his palm every day, determining whether they would rejoice or despair, and all for the price of a single nod of satisfaction or an off-hand word of praise that would make Jiang Cheng bloom like a flower in spring or, in their absence, fade away into a dried up sourpuss, full of spit and vinegar and viciousness.

Meng Yao was older than Jiang Cheng, if only by a little, and Jiang Cheng took him as an elder at once, for all that he continued to conscientiously refer to him by name as if he could hide the way that his Meng Yao rang the exact same way on the ear as shixiong might.

Meng Yao’s usual set of tricks were worthless on him, but that didn’t matter – for all that Jiang Cheng was immune to all but the most direct flirtation, manipulating him was so easy as to not justify anything complicated. He was the one in control, even if Jiang Cheng was the well-born one, the rich one, the blessed one whose birth was within the confines of a proper marriage bed…he might almost have thanked Jiang Cheng’s father for having tormented his son into such vulnerability, making him the perfect mark, if only he didn’t hate him so much on Jiang Cheng’s behalf.

As it was, though, Meng Yao’s control was unquestionable: if after a few weeks of efficient work, Jiang Cheng was leaning on him hard, then after a month he was invaluable. After two Jiang Cheng sincerely told him that he didn’t know what he’d do absent his help; after three, he was willing to swear that they’d all fall apart without him.

Meng Yao had control of the Jiang sect, control over his destiny, control even over what anyone dared to say about him…

And over Jiang Cheng, too.

“Sect Leader Jiang is tired,” he murmured, starting to pick up papers that Jiang Cheng didn’t need to look at, not really. It was all things that Meng Yao could do for him, even if it required forging his signature a few times, and anyway he didn’t really need to know about the extra strings Meng Yao was pulling back in Yunping City, the ones that were just for himself. “He should go to sleep.”

“I can do more,” Jiang Cheng said stubbornly, stifling a yawn. “If I get through half this pile, I could finish the rest tomorrow.”

Except, of course, tomorrow would bring a new set of paperwork and decisions to be made, the haphazard sect army he’d put together requiring both an able general and an even more able quartermaster – truly, it was lucky for Jiang Cheng that Meng Yao had found him, or else he would have torn himself apart trying to do it all.

“If you go to sleep, you’ll see that the work is less than you thought,” Meng Yao said.

“Because you’ll do a bunch at night! Don’t think I don’t know how hard you work, Meng Yao!” Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “If you can do it…”

Meng Yao reached out and brushed his fingers down Jiang Cheng’s cheek, and smiled as the other man choked on his tongue, forgetting what he was going to say at once.

Jiang Cheng had cheekbones a whore would kill for, Meng Yao thought to himself, and wondered what Jiang Cheng would make of the comparison if he made it – he’d probably take it as an insult, when Meng Yao meant it as a compliment.

“You have circles under your eyes,” he said, blatantly ignoring the fact that his hand was nowhere near Jiang Cheng’s eyes. Instead, he traced his fingers down and caught him by the chin, and Jiang Cheng let him.

Such a good boy, always so eager to take direction.

One day, when Meng Yao was master of Lanling Jin the way he’d sworn he’d be, he’d invite Jiang Cheng into his chambers and dress him up in the most garish of clothing, all gaudy gold and purple, and he’d paint his face like he’d seen the sisters at the brothel paint theirs, white face and red lips – he swiped his thumb across Jiang Cheng’s lower lip, and allowed his smile to widen when Jiang Cheng’s throat worked as he swallowed – and when Jiang Cheng was twisting with humiliation and shame, eyes averted and misty with the tears that came too easily to him, he’d praise him until he learned to like it.

“Meng Yao cannot permit his sect leader to tire himself out,” he said, voice gentle, as if he didn’t notice that Jiang Cheng was flushed and breathing hard. “I care too much for you to allow it.”

Jiang Cheng was sitting very still in the manner of a prey seeking to conceal its vulnerable belly before a predator, trying to hide how the simple straightforward statement tore down all his defenses.

“So you’ll go to sleep,” Meng Yao concluded. “Won’t you?”

Jiang Cheng nodded.

He probably would have nodded if Meng Yao had told him he needed to get on his knees and service him. He probably would thank Meng Yao for allowing him the privilege.

“Good,” Meng Yao said, because it was a little too early to press his luck that way. Even if Jiang Cheng would be willing, Meng Yao didn’t yet have the reputation or ability to hold off the scurrilous rumors that would inevitably follow along, and that would only hurt Jiang Cheng’s feelings – and wasn’t it Meng Yao’s job to take care of his things? “I’m glad.”

He pulled back his fingers, and it was as if Jiang Cheng’s brain didn’t start working again until Meng Yao’s hands were firmly behind his back. When it did, Jiang Cheng looked down at the paperwork, looking lost.

“I have a mission tomorrow,” he mumbled. “Hanguang-jun said he found another lead, about Wei Wuxian. I was going to take some disciples…”

Meng Yao had never met Wei Wuxian, and accordingly didn’t know yet if he was someone else he was going to need to manipulate to get his way – another soft touch like Jiang Cheng – or if he was someone like Jiang Fengmian, whose premature death was the only reason Meng Yao hadn’t murdered him.

Still, Jiang Cheng liked him, and Meng Yao…Meng Yao wanted Jiang Cheng happy.

It was a startlingly selfless thought, for him.

Of course, whether this Wei Wuxian would actually make Jiang Cheng happy was a different question.

“I’ll make sure it gets done,” Meng Yao promised, and Jiang Cheng looked relieved. “You focus on finding Wei Wuxian, and bringing him back home. You know I’ll support you in whatever you do.”

As long as it’s the right move, Meng Yao thought behind his smile. As long as it’s what I want you to do.

Jiang Cheng smiled up at him, heartbreakingly sincere.

“I know I could count on you,” he said happily. “You’ll like him, I’m sure, and he’ll like you!”

Meng Yao was unsure of the former, but moderately sure of the latter. Most people liked him, eventually.

“You’ll bring him back,” he said again, because he knew it was what Jiang Cheng wanted to hear. He reached out again, this time running his fingers through his hair – a massive overreach, an affront to the dignity of any man, but a gesture of affection to which Jiang Cheng submitted himself at once. It was like raising a puppy. “Even if he’s hurt, we’ll just care for him, you and I, won’t we?”

“We will!”

“Good. I have faith in you, Sect Leader Jiang. You’ll find him and you’ll bring him back for sure this time.”

And as for what happens next…well, that’s up to Wei Wuxian, isn’t it?

Truly, he thought. Truly gratifying.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Thick And Thin (one-shot)

Synopsis: He never thought his wife would ever even think about divorce. They had problems, which is why they were at marriage counselling. But he never knew her heart had broken a long time ago. And he’d been the one to break it before they even got together.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: aaaaaaannnnggggssssttt baby, just wanted to write something that’d rip your heart out :)

Warnings: swearing, pain, kinda depressive (??), can’t think of anything else really, but please let me know if there is, also not my best work lol :D

Word count: 7102 (let’s start off the New Year with loads of pain :) )

Italics are flashbacks

“I want a divorce.” 

           Never in Harry’s life did he think he’d have to hear those words. Not after everything they’d been through, not after all of the effort he’d been putting in to save their relationship.

           Those words had not only stunned him but their marriage councillor, the woman’s mouth open mid-word, as she tried to comprehend what was happening. Harry was fairing even worse. It was like his brain was short-circuiting, synapses broken and no longer sending any signals. 

           “Mrs Styles, I know it’s difficult,” the therapist tried to diffuse the situation. “But the reason you’re here is to avoid this specifically.”

           “I don’t remember how you smell anymore,” Y/N continued not listening to the woman, voice like a black void, but her Y/E/C eyes rimmed with tears. “Or taste. I don’t remember how it feels to have you pressed up against me or what it’s like to hear your voice. I… I don’t have anything to cling onto anymore.”

           “It’s why we're here!” he cried through clenched teeth, slipping on his knees before her, hands grasping Y/N’s in a vice-like grip. “It’s why we’re trying.”

           The laugh she let out was detached and without any love. “We tried it your way, Harry.” She’d never called him Harry before. It was always Lover. “And it’s not working for me. It hasn’t from the start. We’re… we’re so unhappy. And I don’t want that for you or for me. We deserve happiness. But I don’t think we can give that to one another anymore.” She took in a shaky breath, looking down at Harry’s hands in her lap. “When I thought of it, at first I felt horrible. I wanted to throw myself off somewhere, but the more I sat on that thought, the more relieved I felt.”

           He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, didn’t want to believe it. “Relieved?” The word felt like acid in his mouth.

           “Yes,” she nodded. “Relieved. Because this choice won’t make us hurt one another anymore. This gives us a chance to have a fresh start.”

           “I don’t want a fresh start! We said – we said through thick and thin.” He was grasping onto the last straw he could find. “This is the thin, but we’ll get through it.”

           “Harry, I already broke through the thin. And now I’m drowning. And when the thick comes, I’ll either be frozen under it and watch you walk further, or I’ll surface somewhere, and I don’t know on which side of the shore I’m gonna be on and where you’ll be. And if you try to get me, you’ll start drowning too. I don’t want that.”

           “But that’s what marriage is! Going through the tough shit together!”

“Harry… I already asked Lionel to draw up the papers. The first draft is done.”

           His blood froze in his veins.

           “When you said to sit down and write one thing that makes me happy about the relationship,” Y/N was looking at the therapist now, “about the person, I – I couldn’t. Because I kept thinking back to the start, to the beginning. That’s what made me happy. But now…” She glanced at Harry. “If there was one thing, I couldn’t do to you, not in a moment like this, is lie. I just… I don’t remember how to be happy with you.”

***

They’d started out as the cliché of best-friends-lose-contact-only-to-be-reunited-and-not-let-their-chance-pass-by-and-fall-in-love. She was ten when she’d moved in next door to him and he was twelve when he’d seen the three vans full up to the house, a little girl hopping out from one of them. Harry watched as she rushed up the doorstep and put in a key, unlocking it and a new chapter of her life with it. Little did he know she’d unlocked a new chapter of his life as well.

She was the new kid at school, and despite the fact that he was a year above, he sat down next to her at lunch.

“ ’M ‘arry,” he said through a mouthful of a sandwich. “Saw you move in yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m Y/N.”

And that was the start of a blooming friendship.

On her eleventh birthday, he gave her a handmade bracelet. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank you, making Harry blush all shades of pink and red.

He was thirteen when he had his first real kiss on his birthday. Y/N had simply tried to peck him on the cheek, but he’d turned his head, and her mouth had ended up on his. She’d walked away with a shy smile and ears on fire.

She was thirteen when a boy first asked her out. Harry was the first person she told him about it. That was the first time his heart broke.

When he was fifteen, he got his first girlfriend. Y/N was fourteen when her heart broke for the first time.

           And then he'd gone on X-factor and with that forgotten about her. She called him, texted him, messaged him on social media, but usually, she’d maybe get only one picture or a small ‘miss you too’ as a response. So, after a whole year apart, she gave up. What was the point of trying to save anything when he didn’t want to?

           He moved on and became an international superstar. Y/N moved on and graduated top of her class, got into her first-choice university, and graduated with a first as well. He had some relationships here and there, while Y/N had had a steady relationship since the second year of uni, but when she decided to go to a different one for her masters they amicably broke up.

           Eight years later she was sitting at a café in London, laughing with her ex-boyfriend and catching up, as he explained how what Criminal Minds showed wasn’t really what was taught in his criminology degree classes.

           “I’m still saying I dated real-life Spencer Reid,” Y/N chuckled, sipping on her gingerbread latte. “Don’t give a shit, I need something to flex with.”

           Harry had then walked inside the café, shaking off the snow from his boots when a familiar laugh he hadn’t heard in ages invaded his senses. It was almost like he’d stepped into a dream. 

           When his green eyes befell on the owner of the voice, he had to take a double-take. Somehow in his brain, he’d expected the fifteen-year-old teenager, a t-shirt of his face on her body, as she’d cheered him on when he’d gone onto his first concert as part of One Direction to be sitting in the chair, not the grown-up woman.

           He’d still checked in with Y/N through what she posted on her social media, but as much as he’d promised not to have the celebrity life sweep him away, it had. Harry sometimes had two concerts a day, and he barely had a moment to take a bite of food. And he hated to admit it, but Y/N simply slipped from his life. And he didn’t bother to put in the effort to pull her back.

           A huge wave of guilt and longing rushed through his body as he glanced at the woman, her face lit up by joy as she and the man before her continued on with their conversation.

           Someone tapped on his shoulder, making him turn around and face another customer. “You gonna order anything?”

           For a moment Harry stuttered. He could walk away without inserting himself back into Y/N’s life, but he didn’t want that. He’d missed her. Harry didn’t even realise how much he’d missed her.

           “You go ahead.” He motioned with his hand. “I’m still thinking.”

           Harry took in a deep breath and then walked towards where the pair was sitting. 

           The man’s eyes flitted up to see who was towering over Y/N, only for them to widen, and his mouth hang open. 

A sense of pride filled Harry's chest at the reaction and maybe quenched a little bit of the jealousy invading his body. He used to be the one who made Y/N laugh until she had to tell him to stop or she’d pee herself. He was back to take up the role.

           “You okay there, Dan?” she chuckled. “Don’t tell me there’s a ghost behind my back. I told him not to walk out of the flat wit –“ Y/N had turned around and almost choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Harry! Oh – hi!” She jumped up hugging him, feeling how his body shook with laughter at her reaction, strong arms weaving around her middle. “Holy shit, it’s really you!”

           “Yeah, ‘s me. Who else?”

           “I didn’t know you were back in the UK.”

           A warmth spread through his chest, as he reluctantly pulled away from the hug. “Been checking in on me?”

           Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting back down, but pulling up a third chair for Harry to sit upon. “Dan’s a huge fan.” She motioned with her head to the man. “When we first started dating, I thought he was only doing it because we used to be friends, and he hoped I’d set you up or something.”

           Harry masked the choke of envy by clearing his throat and letting out an awkward chuckle. “Hope I’m not interrupting a date or something.”

           “A catch-up date, but not a date date.” Dan lifted his brows at Y/N, who gave him a ‘don’t start this’ look to which he threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m just making conversation.”

           “You’re being annoying, that’s what you are.” Y/N flicked a crumb from the table towards him. 

           It was in that moment that it truly hit how much he’d missed, and it hit him hard he no longer knew the person who once was his best friend.

           “You’re different,” Harry said, looking over at her trying to keep the lump in his throat from making his voice break. 

           Y/N shrugged, eyes twinkling. “I mean it has been almost a decade. I do hope I don’t look the same as I did then. Otherwise, the pain of braces was of no use.”

           “No,” he chuckled shaking his head. “’S not that… It’s like you’re a different person.”

           “I grew up,” she said, sipping on the last bits of her drink. “ ’M not the same fifteen-year-old you saw last.”

           He nodded and bit his lip. But the thing was, Harry wasn’t the stupid sixteen-year-old that left the fifteen-year-old her either. This time, he wouldn’t let the chance at happiness pass him by when he could’ve had it all along. 

***

           He sat across from Y/N at the large marble table and watched, heart bleeding out in his chest as she put her signature on the papers, her attorney fishing out something from his briefcase and handing it to her under the table. He saw her shoulders shudder before she placed a maroon rectangle with a golden inscription on it in her own purse. Harry wanted to vomit. It was her new passport, where her surname no longer matched his, where he no longer existed, inscribed into the document as her spouse. 

           “Mr Styles?” Y/N’s lawyer pushed the papers his way, the pen laying atop them. “’S your turn.”

           ‘Your turn’, as if it was a game of spin the bottle or UNO. 

           “Don’t make me,” he choked out, pleading with Y/N one last time. “Please don’t make me do this. Don’t make me give up on us.”

           Her words were worse than a knife to his soul. “You can’t give up on something that’s no longer there.”

           When they’d been at the stage of negotiation, he’d kept pushing for giving her at least half of his income, to give her one of the houses they owned together, but she’d turned everything down.

           “I didn’t marry you for your money, Harry.” He’d expected her voice to be full of venom, but it wasn’t. It was sad, resigned. “I don’t want what you’ve earned.”

           “Let me give you at least something.”

           “I don’t want anything from you. If it makes you feel any better, you can donate whatever amount you wanted to give me. I don’t care. All I want from this is for you to sign the papers.”

           “And if I can’t?”

           Y/N sighed, looking down at the table. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

           That’s when her attorney had cleared his throat. “Mrs Sty – Y/L/N. Legally, according to the prenup, you are entitled to half of Mr Styles estate as well as twenty percent of all his earnings.”

           But Y/N just shook her head. “I only signed those documents because that’s what he and his agent wanted. I never asked for it or anything or the sort. Donate it, for all I care. Buy a new house, Harry I literally don’t want to know what you do with your money.” Y/N took in a sharp breath and calmed herself down. It’d been the first time Harry had heard any sort of emotion from her since she'd spoken those horrible words. “I just want this over with.”

           And now, he was at the moment of the end. He just never thought their story would end with broken hearts and ripped up futures.

His handwriting was barely legible at best of times, but right now it seemed as if a toddler had tried to forge it with how much his hand shook. When the pen dropped, so did his shoulders, and he saw Y/N’s drop as well.

           Harry’s with weight from the love lost, Y/N’s with relief, for now their broken hearts wouldn’t hurt one another no longer.

           His lawyer handed him over a new passport as well, where Y/N was no longer written as his spouse. The urge to rip it to shreds was almost uncontainable. He hated it more than the divorce papers.

***

           They’d been dating for a little over two years when he decided to propose, only every plan he had was miserably ruined by some outside force.

           The first time he’d decided he’d do it at a romantic dinner. Harry had found out Y/N wasn’t a fan of huge romantic gestures, so he wouldn’t get on one knee and draw everyone’s attention. He’d simply take her hand in his, kiss her fingers and ask. 

           But as they’d sat at the table enjoying their meal and talking, he noticed Y/N become quieter and quieter. A frown morphed on his face.

           “You alright, Lovie?”

           “Umm,” Y/N’s brow creased even more, and she dropped her fork. “I umm I don’t know. ‘M feeling kind of funky?”

           “What’dya mean?”

           “I – “ Y/N opened her mouth but didn’t manage to get anything else out as she jumped up and rushed towards the ladies room.

           Harry quickly dropped his own utensils and rushed after her, not bothering with the yells of the woman who was looking at herself in the mirror, while his girlfriend threw up her guts inside one of the toilets.

           A member of the staff had run to see what all the commotion was about, but when he saw Y/N half inside a stall, half outside, Harry’s hands keeping her hair away from her face, he went back out and immediately grabbed the first aid kit they had in the kitchen, handing it to Harry along with a cold wet towel.

           Y/N shuddered, leaning against the stall wall sweat glistening on her face, as he pressed the damp cloth against her skin. She gave him half a smile. “Told you not to get the shrimp.”

           “I’ll get the cab, Lovie.” He smoothed away the once meticulously styled hair, which was now stuck to her damp skin. 

           But she shook her head. “Not yet.”

           “Why?”

           “Because I’m about to puke again.”

           In the end, she threw up two more times, her stomach really not agreeing with the entrée. The waiters kept apologising the whole time, and the chef had stopped cooking, the restaurant immediately taking action and refunding everyone who’d ordered anything with shrimps in them.

           When they’d gotten back home, Y/N was so tired and felt so sick, Harry could only help her get out of the dress, clean her up with a warm towel and wrap her up in her favourite pyjamas before curling up together on his bed and falling asleep, making sure if there was a moment, she felt nauseous again, he was by her side. She needed his help more than he needed to propose.

***

           He threw himself into his work like a madman. Day and night, he was either at a studio, on a filming lot, in between meetings or interviews. The media buzzed about how his marriage had fallen apart, even though Y/N hadn’t made a statement or spoken a word to anyone, and neither had Harry. But he guessed the emptiness of his ring finger gave everything away.

           He refused, however, to speak on it. As painful as it was, he was still in love with Y/N. She hadn’t chosen to be in the spotlight, it was Harry’s world, not hers, so he respected her decision to be quiet and remained so himself, save for one single post his management had asked for him to put up. It'd also been the last time he'd spoken to her.

All he received was a simple text message 'do what you have to do'.

           A couple of months down the line though, something came up, and Harry couldn’t keep his tongue behind his teeth.

           It was an article in The Sun, a photograph of Y/N plastered all over the front page with the words ‘Gold-digger Y/L/N finally seen out after divorce with Harry Styles.” He’d snatched the paper right off the stand and flipped it open, frantic green eyes scanning the words.

           ‘Despite it only being two months since the two childhood ex-best friends broke up, Y/N Y/L/N was already seen in the company of a man, sharing a drink, and giving one another flirtatious smiles. An inside source tells us, how she hadn’t even been that upset about the divorce and has been going out and having fun with many male companions, one of them being her ex-boyfriend from university times.’ 

           ‘Harry Styles, known for his time in the pop boyband One Direction and for his solo endeavours in music as well as dabbling in acting, broke everyone’s belief in true love after being seen in public without a ring. This prompted an announcement that the four-year relationship and two-year marriage to who was once his best friend had ended and the two had decided to get a divorce. Although the post showed a picture of their silhouettes holding one another with their foreheads together, and his statement showed nothing but love and respect for his then-wife, sources say Y/N had been controlling and obsessive over her then-husband and hadn’t wanted him to leave to pursue his career, stifling his growth.’

           He didn’t bother to read any further, as he pulled out his phone, calling Jeff immediately to figure out how to make all of it go away, how to do at least one thing right.

           “They’re dragging her name through the mud!” he sneered, not even caring he was bumping shoulders with people, and if the paparazzi would dare spin a story of the state he was in at that moment, he’d sue each and every one of them personally. “I have to do something. Fuck, Jeff, I love her! I can’t let them paint her like this. Y/N – “ he choked back a lump. “She never asked for this. Didn’t ask for anything. And that man – that was Dan, okay. I know him. Yes, he’s her ex, but they don’t know anything!”

           “Harry I’ve sent them cease-and-desist letters already.” Jeff tried to ease him. “But… she’s no longer your concern Har.”

           The words hit him like a bullet and ripped a hole in his chest just like one of them would. “You might still love her,” Jeff’s voice was solemn. “But Y/N is no longer yours to protect.”

           “I can’t just let them talk shit about her,” Harry whispered back.

           His friend sighed on the other side of the line. “I know. Which is why we’ll deal with it. But you have to start letting her go.”

***

The second time Harry wanted to propose was about a month later, and Christmas was right around the corner. They’d decided that Christmas Eve would be spent with his sister, her boyfriend and Anne, while Christmas Day they’d go to Y/N’s side of the family. 

Although they’d settled on one gift each, Harry had been carrying around that small box for what felt like an eternity. And it wouldn’t really be a gift, given how he’d wrap it and hang it in the tree.

“It’s an ornament,” he’d say to her, a smug smile on his lips, as Y/N would roll her eyes at him. “Just because it has your name on it, doesn’t mean it’s immediately a present.”

And then she’d open it, and would gasp, and Harry would slide down on his knee, press a kiss to her ring-free finger before asking that fateful question. 

But just like before, his plan didn’t come to fruition. 

           He’d asked his mother to hang up the little box, so there was no chance of Y/N seeing it in his hands, but what he hadn’t thought of was Gemma’s boyfriend had decided on the exact same plan of action.

           When Michal had dropped down on his knee, Harry’s sister’s trembling hand in his, he couldn’t do that to them. As much as he wanted to marry Y/N, he couldn’t take away Gemma’s moment. So while Y/N was preoccupied with looking at the gleaming diamond on Gemma’s finger, Harry plucked down the box from where it’d hung and placed it on the side no one could see, before he could put it in his bag.

           “ ’M sorry, honey,” Anne had said to him over coffee the next morning. “I didn’t know Michal would do that.”

           He’d just shaken his head, no hurt in his heart. “Great minds think alike. Our moment will come. ‘M happy for Gem. Besides, if he hadn’t done that anytime soon, I would’ve needed to have a stern talking.” 

***

           What his sister said to him made him think he had to be living in a simulation, because it couldn’t be true. Y/N couldn’t be getting married. Not this soon. Not ever. Not to someone who wasn’t him. It had been barely a year since he’d signed the death sentence to his own happiness.

           Harry shook his head. “You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying, Gem.”

           “I’m not.” Her voice broke as she said it. “I saw her at a café. Saw the ring… the man who gave it to her. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

           His mind reeled with questions he wasn’t sure he wanted answers to. Was that why she’d really divorced him? Had she been cheating on him and just needed an excuse out of their relationship to jump into the new one? He was away so much on their relationship, he wouldn’t have been surprised if someone else had swooped in and tried to win her heart.

Harry’s mind was one of the greatest things he’d been blessed him, but also one of the worst curses bestowed upon him, as it weaved a story of Y/N and the man who’d now put a gleaming ring on her finger.

           He was away, like always, doing something he could do another time. She was on her own, keeping their bed warm with just her body, fighting for their relationship on her own, while he made plans once more to go to a different part of the world and leave her behind again.

           Y/N pulled herself out of the bed, sighing and rubbing her face. She opened their closet only to be greeted with Harry’s half empty. Maybe that was the moment she decided to find someone who’d fill it and wouldn’t leave it permanently empty, Harry conjured up.

           She’d dress in a soft jumper and some jeans, a large cardigan hanging over her body and would go to a café for her morning drink. And that’s where she’d meet him. The stranger that would take her out of the lonely life she’d been living. The stranger that would make a smile bloom on her face and her heart stutter once more. The stranger who would show her the love Y/N deserved to have.

           Harry had to shake his head to get rid of the thoughts before they ventured into a worse territory.

           No. Y/N wasn’t like that. No matter what, she would never cheat on him. She had enough dignity for herself and respect for him, even though in his own mind, Harry didn’t think he deserved it. 

           Although he didn’t have a right to, nor was it the sanest move (and if someone saw him doing it, there would probably be a slew of articles), Harry got into his car and drove to where Y/N’s apartment was, and when she opened the door after hearing seven loud knocks, he stepped inside without even waiting for her to invite him. 

           “You’re getting married?”

           She crossed her arms. “It’s none of your concern.”

           “It’s been barely a year! I refuse to believe you’ve moved on so fast.”

           Maybe he was kidding himself, and Y/N truly had, but as much as their marriage had fallen apart, he did have the honour of having known her and having figured some things out deeper than others would.

           Y//N scoffed. “I was proposed to. And I said yes.” The words were like venom entering his veins. “If I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t have agreed to it. And as I already said – it is none of your concern.”

           Harry stood there, watching as she dragged a hand down her face, eyes flitting everywhere he wasn’t. It told him everything he needed to know.

           “You’re not happy,” he whispered stepping forward and reaching for her hand. “I know how you shine when you’re truly happy. This isn’t it. Why are you doing this?”

           “That doesn’t matter.”          

           Harry was so confused, at a complete loss at what Y/N was saying. “So, you’ll what? Get married to him and be miserable? Why the hell did you divorce me then?”

Y/N sighed. “Being unhappy with him isn’t as unbearable as being unhappy with you. Because with you, I know what it feels like to truly fully loved. Which is why it broke me when you stopped.”

           “I never stopped!” Harry whisper yelled, anger coursing through his veins at her words, because they were lies. “Why do you think I dragged us to marriage counselling? Why do you think I kept fighting for us? For you?! You were the one that gave up!” 

           “You weren’t there when I needed you.” 

           Harry blinked rapidly, not understanding what she meant.

           “You left me for ten years. You forgot all about me until that day at the café. Not once did you message me or call me or even send fucking snail mail. I was the one putting in all the effort, I was the one who was trying to keep you in my life, but you didn’t want it. Just like it was when we were married.”

           Rage bubbled under the surface, but he kept it at bay. That was not how he’d get Y/N back. “How?” he asked calmly. “How did I not want it?”

She scoffed shaking her head. “It was the same as it was ten years ago. With the movie, the new album... You were always at the studio or hanging out with your castmates. When I asked for you to free up one night, one single night, you didn’t come back until three AM, drunk off your ass, and I had to take care of you. I asked for one night. And you didn’t even give me that. So forgive me for not feeling like you still loved me.”

           “Why didn’t you talk to me then?!”

           “I did!” This was the first time he’d ever heard Y/N yell, before kneading her lips tightly together and then continuing more quietly. “But you never heard me. Not really. You heard what I asked, and promised to be there, but when the time came… something more important always came up. Something that always deserved to have the promise you gave me to be broken.” Y/N gave him a sad smile. “Do you remember when you first asked me out? And I said no?”

           Harry nodded. “You said that we just got one another back and didn’t want to have anything rip us apart again. Didn’t even want to chance it.”

           “And you said it was exactly why I should give us a chance. That we’d finally found one another again and shouldn’t let the opportunity go…” She tilted her head. “Guess we should’ve listened to me. I included.”

           He couldn’t believe her. “Is that really your takeaway here? You were right?”

           “But I was.” Y/N shrugged. “Look at where we are now. You forgot me for basically ten years.” She shrugged, stepping away. “Give it some time, and you’ll forget me for the rest of your life. Besides, we’ve not known one another longer than we have. So, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

           “Why did you then? Go out with me?” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “Get married to me?”

           For a moment Y/N just looked at him, Y/E/C eyes boring into his green ones. “Because I’d once again convinced myself I was important to you, just like I did when we were teens. And in my head, I had dreamt up that maybe I’d be important enough for you not to forget me.”

***

The third time did the charm though.

           They were both sleepy, under the covers of Harry’s bed, eyes barely keeping open as they were determined to finish Elf.

           Y/N had her cheek pressed against his chest, bare body next to his naked one. She hated sleeping in pyjamas (unless they were staying over at one of their parent’s places,) because she said it made her feel like the clothes were suffocating her. Harry didn’t like sleeping with pyjamas because all he wanted was to fully feel the skin of his lover next to his. 

           Snow fell behind the large windows of his London penthouse apartment, covering the city in a white blanket. It rarely snowed there, so he watched with warmth in his heart as the flakes fluttered to the ground.

           It was all so calm, so serene, that Harry realised that’d been the moment he’d been waiting for. No need for fancy dinners or present it as a loud gift. Being together was a gift enough.

           “Lovie?” he asked, nose hidden in her hair. “You awake?”

           All he received in answer was a small hum. She was on the verge of passing out, but this was the moment, so, he whispered the question, voice so low as if he was asking the dark to marry him not Y/N.

           He couldn’t look at her, afraid of what she might say, afraid she might say no, think back to the times he wasn’t there for her, think of all the reasons why he wasn’t good enough for her, and would only bring her sorrow. 

           “Lover.” Her voice was as soft as a summer’s morning. “Look at me. Please.”

           It was one of the most frightening things in his life, as he did so. 

           Y/E/C eyes met green. What he saw on her face allowed his heart to calm down a little.

           “Is the Sun the closest star to us?”

           That he hadn’t expected. “What?”

           “Does it rise in the East and set in the West?”

           “Y-yes?”

           Her hand cupped his cheek, and he melted against her. “Then why are you asking me a question you know the answer will be the same as to those?”

           “Can I put the ring on your finger then?” He was more excited than about anything in his life.

           Y/N shook her head, bringing his lips to brush against hers. “Don’t need a ring. Just need you to kiss me.”

***

           The wedding was far away from the city so that no one from the press could even think about following her or her entourage. The guest list was small, compared to the three hundred people Harry’s and her wedding had had.

           Anne had told him not to go. He wasn’t invited, and neither was she or Gemma, for obvious reasons. As much as Y/N loved them, she knew it’d hurt the two women, but it would hurt Harry more. So seeing her stepping out of the car, dressed in a cream wedding gown, a veil covering her face, made flashbacks appear behind Harry’s eyelids.

           She’d worn an off-white gown before as well, dusty rose to be exact. And Harry’s bow tie had matched it. Y/N had never liked the thought of wearing white at her wedding. 

           “Listen, if it’s white, I’ll most definitely spill something on it,” she’d told him as both of them had been flipping through some wedding magazines. “You know me. But if it’s some other colour, there’s a bigger chance no one will notice when that happens.”

           It didn’t seem right to him. It was like a bad fever-dream like he’d had that one time, and Y/N had had to listen to him babble about the hallucinations dancing in front of him because of the high temperature.

           Her gaze remained on the ground, or maybe on the bucket of white roses in her hands. She hated white roses.

           A woman in a pale blue dress straightened out the back of Y/N’s dress and the train of it, and he watched as her mother came to stand beside her daughter, giving her an elbow to grasp onto.

           All he wanted was for Y/N to be happy, and it hurt to think it wasn’t with him because Harry believed it was supposed to be him. 

           He took in a shaky breath and got out of the car just as Y/N had walked up the steps and disappeared behind the double doors.

           It was going to be him.

***

Harry knew he wasn’t the best husband in the world. He was away for a lot of time, and as conceited of an excuse it was, his job did entail going out to parties, mingling with other people living the high life, and being seen with certain celebs.

           Y/N was never one for it. She always supported Harry, but she didn’t like going out and spending time with people who didn’t care for her existence. Well, maybe they did, but only in a sense that she’d been the lucky bitch who’d snagged up the Harry Styles.

           But if there was something Harry did was love, and he loved wholeheartedly, which is why it absolutely destroyed him when he’d gotten back home one evening and heard Y/N crying in their bathroom.

           She’d never tell him, but it was because no longer did his pillow smell like him. Harry had been away for so long, that the essence of him that’d soaked into their sheets was no longer there. And it broke her to pieces.

           When he’d get home, he’d be so tired, he’d crash on the couch, only tiptoeing his way into their shared room to go to his closet and get some clean clothes in the morning. He’d look over at his sleeping wife and allow a blissful smile to bloom on his face at the sight.

           He was so lucky to have Y/N back in his life. He was so lucky she’d accepted him and fallen for him as he’d fallen for her. He’d silently move over and press a kiss to her temple, before going back down and off to work once more. Only he wouldn’t see the dried tears on her cheeks.

           So, when he’d found her curled up in the tub, hands in her hair, face hidden by her knees, frame trembling like leaves in a storm, he instantly dropped to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through his bones, as he pulled Y/N into him.

           “I can’t, Harry,” she choked out, shaking her head. He knew it was bad. She never called him by his name. “I can’t do this. I’m so alone. Even when you’re here, I’m alone.”

           Harry had had his heart broken before, and always he wondered afterwards if someone took it out of his chest at that moment, what kind of a sound would it make. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it’d be as silent as the tears running down his face at Y/N’s confession.      

           “Maybe,” he swallowed harshly trying to keep his whole body from shaking, from showing the fear her statement instilled in him. “Maybe we need couple’s therapy.”

           “What?” her eyebrows had shot up to the middle of the forehead.

           “Y/N, we’re clearly having problems. I – I know I need to work on things, but you’re also not telling me how you’re feeling. Maybe we just need some help.”

           She didn’t really know what to respond. In her mind, Y/N had somehow conjured up an image that if she ever got married, they’d be happy. Sure, they’d fight and have rows, but they’d always be able to work things out on their own. Not once in her life, did she ever think she’d need to go and see a marriage counsellor to help her save her marriage.

           Her own parents much like Harry’s had gotten divorced. Hers had tried therapy. It’d been their last resort. It didn't work. So, when he’d mentioned it to her, that’s what made her decide it was truly over. 

           Y/N nodded, bringing him in for a hug, and felt his body melt into hers with relief.

She’d try, for Harry, but her mind was already made up.

***

           So he stood outside the doors, listening for the line of ‘if there is anyone who opposes this union speak up now, or forever hold your peace’. His hand grasped the handle, ready to push, but… he couldn’t. He’d ruined her happy ever after once before. He couldn’t do that again to her.

           Tears streamed down his face as he pocketed his hands and ventured away from the ceremony. The ceremony where the love of his life was promising to cherish someone else, to fight through thick and thin with someone else, to make someone else happy, while her own happiness suffered.

           Harry sat in his car, waiting for her to exit, a smile on her face as she’d hold the hand of who now was her husband. That'd be the moment he'd let go of her. But when the doors sprung open, she was alone, hands clutching onto the front of her dress, as she rushed down the steps and back inside the car she’d arrived in.

           For a second he sat in his vehicle, stunned beyond belief at what had happened, at what, as horrible as it sounded, he hoped had happened. When a man, hand in his hair ran outside as well, the same woman in the pale blue dress rushing out with him, Harry knew.

           He was basically a madman on the road, breaking almost every possible law as he tried to catch up to the car Y/N had jumped in. 

           His mind raced with the possibilities of where she could’ve gone. The airport, her family’s summer house in Winchester, honestly anywhere in the world, but Harry shut up his mind, and allowed his heart to make the decision.

           It didn’t seem like Y/N had premeditated fleeing from her wedding, which meant she’d need her stuff. And that meant going to her apartment as quickly as possible before someone came to look for her.

           The way he parked was probably illegal leaving the car basically in the middle of the road, but Harry didn’t care much as he frantically rushed up the steps of her apartment complex. He was scared that if he knocked, she wouldn’t open, thinking it might be someone from the wedding, but he didn’t need to be afraid of it, as he saw Y/N, her hair still styled as it had been for the ceremony, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, a suitcase in hand exiting from the flat.

           “Why didn’t you do it?” he breathlessly asked, startling her and making her drop the keys.

           Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? What are you doing here?”

           Harry stepped closer, hand cupping her cheek, insides trembling from all of the emotions coursing through his body. “Why didn’t you do it? Marry him? Why didn’t you say yes?”

           “I – “ Y/N choked on her words. “I couldn’t say yes. It didn’t feel right.”

           “Why?”

           “Because it wasn’t you, I was saying yes to.”

           That was all Harry needed to kiss her like he'd done once before. And this time, he wasn’t going to let her go. He’d made that mistake twice. He would never repeat it again.

           “I love you,” he cried through a laugh. “I love you. I love you. I love you. And I’m never letting you slip through my fingers ever again.”

           “How can you even think about loving me again after what I did to us?” she asked, pulling away from his lips.

           Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re talking like I ever stopped. Through thick and thin. It’s what we promised. Think and thin, my Lovie."

***

           A sixteen-year-old Harry and a fifteen-year-old Y/N laid outside in the grass of Harry’s garden; eyes trained onto the dark night starlit sky above. It was the day before his life changed forever as did hers.

           “Do you believe in soulmates?” Harry asked, trying to catch a glimpse of a shooting star.

           Y/N scrunched up her nose. “No. I don’t think I do. And I don’t think I want one.”

           “Why not?”

           “What if they’re old and in their thirties? Or dead?”

           Harry snorted at her response.

           “And you?” Y/N turned her head to look at him. “Do you believe in soulmates?

           He bit his lip and nodded. “I think I do. I think it’s two people who’ve been brought together, and no matter what happens will find their way to one another. Through thick and thin.”

"And what if one of them breaks the other's heart?"

"That's the thin." He looked at her. "And you don't give up then. It's when you need to love them even more."

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: Happy 2021 everyone! Hopefully things are better this year, and everyone stays safe and sound.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my fics on other platforms without specific written permission. Reblogs are a okay :)

[bangtanloverboys]

greened out // pjm

summary - expecting to just go through another night of studying, jimin is surprised to see you calling him so late, asking him to take you home

pairing - college student!jimin x gender neutral!reader

genre -  drama, angst; college au

word count - 2.5k

warnings - unrequited crushes, drug usage (smoking weed), consumption of alcohol, being cross faded, intoxicated character, mentions of vomit

author’s note - happy birthday jimin!! this is lightly based off a personal experience of the only time i ever greened out (not fun, dont recommend). but keep in mind this is my own experience, not the same for everyone. smoke responsibly!

It wasn’t often Jimin was surprised, in fact he often took pride in that fact. But certainly seeing your contact calling him nearly a quarter to 1 am did catch him off guard. He was already up late studying for an upcoming quiz, his roommate long gone as it was a Saturday night. His confusion only grew as he stared at his ringing phone. However, to see your name glowing on his screen had butterflies erupting in his stomach. Jimin had harbored a small crush on you since he first saw you, wandering in a few minutes late to your psych class. He’d never tell you though, hell the only reason he even had your number was for a group project and even then, that was turned in weeks ago. 

Regardless, Jimin found his finger sliding across the screen, answering the call. “Hello?”

Whatever sound was coming back from the other end was muffled and inaudible. A quick thought flashed through his mind that you had butt dialed him, he wasn’t sure if he would be hurt or relieved by that. He was about to hang up the phone when a slurred voice called out to him. 

“Jimin?”

“Y/N?”

“Hehehe, you say my name funny.”

“Y/N, are you alright?” He frowned, confused as you unintelligibly chuckled at him.

“Not really,” you murmured, your voice sounding further away from the phone. “I’m uh. . . in a bathroom? I think?”

“What do you mean you think?”

“Well I can’t. . . see but last I remembered I was.”

“Rewind, what happened? Are you okay? Where are you?” Jimin asked, his confusion slowly turning into concern the more you talked.

“I uh- I took a bit too much of a hit off of. . . I think it was Jungkook’s dab pen and uh, I got sick,” you mumbled, like you were embarrassed to admit it. “I locked myself in the bathroom, but like. . . vision is weird. Can’t see.”

“How did you call me?”

“Siri,” you dryly chuckled, before you let out a groan. “I don’t feel good. . . I wanna go home.”

“Is there anyone you can call?” 

“I called you.”

“I meant like, a friend you could call to take you home,” he explained as he felt a rush of heat bloom on his cheeks.

“All my friends are here, probably also high or drunk. . .” you mumbled. “Can you take me home, please?”

The butterflies in his stomach went from a flutter to a roar. “I, uh-” He stuttered, completely speechless from your request. “Sure. Sure. I can pick you up, where-where are you?”

“Beta Tau, second floor bathroom.”

Internally, Jimin groaned. Of course it was the Beta Tau frat house, they were notorious for their loud and rambunctious parties. Almost always ending up with several people getting sick or injured while attending. 

“Okay, I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Don’t move.” You gave a hum in acknowledgment as he hung up his phone. Quickly, Jimin grabbed his keys and slipped on his shoes, ready to go pick you up.

It didn’t take him long to get to the frat house, he actually could tell he was getting closer as there were more and more people beginning to gather around outside the frat house. Parking his car, Jimin slid out, ready to head inside. If he was being honest, he’d never been to any party before, this was his first time ever going to one. Soon as he stepped over the threshold, he was struck with the combined scents of weed and various times of alcohol, all mixed together like a thick disgusting cocktail. Music was blasting from the stereos, it was so loud Jimin thought he saw the pictures on the walls vibrate with every thunderous boom of the base. It was so crowded as well, it felt like some sort of nightmare as he pushed through all the bodies, trying to find the stairs.

When he finally found them, he let out a sigh of relief. Upstairs didn’t have as many people upstairs, but they were a lot less rowdy. Several of them were slumped out on the floor, either drinking the remainder of what little alcohol was left in their cups or half asleep. Jimin stepped over the sprawled out limbs, careful not to step on anyone’s fingers or toes. 

Bathroom, he thought to himself, where is the bathroom. Unsure of where to start, he began pressing his ear up against the closed doors of the second floor. Jimin wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he immediately recoiled once he began to hear the loud slap of skin and unapologetic moans. Biting his lip, he turned to one of the more lucid people lying about on the floor.

“Excuse me, where’s the bathroom?”

His once blissful and out there expression quickly morphed into one of annoyance, raising his hand, he pointed to the door at the far end of the hall. “ ‘s been locked for an hour.”

Thanking him, Jimin made his way over to the bathroom, knocking softly against the door. 

A low grumble came from the otherside. “Occupied!”

“Y/N, it’s me.”

“Jimin!” You slurred in response, albeit a bit happier than your earlier snap. “Come in.” The door handle jiggled a bit, you no doubt struggled to unlock it, but it wasn’t long before you managed to unlock it, allowing Jimin to open the door. You were sitting on the floor, next to the door, a big smile on your face as you looked up at him. Well, less at him and more through him, your red eyes a tell-tale sign you were definitely still feeling the effects. 

“Let’s go,” Jimin said, holding the door open for you. 

You pouted up at him, like a child being scolded. “Help me up.” It wasn’t a question, more of a demand as you held your arms up, ready for him to grab you. 

Ignoring the heat gathering in his face again, he linked his hands with yours, pulling you up to your feet. Now face to face with you, Jimin watched as your smile grew wider, your breath mixing with him. He’d only been this close with you once before, and that was hovering over a table in the library, trying to get your parts of the project done. He distinctly remembered your breath smelling minty, like you’d just popped a mint before meeting him. Now, your breath smelled rancid; no doubt a mixture of weed, alcohol, and. . . vomit? Scrunching up his nose, he pulled away from you. 

“Okay, let’s. . . let’s get you home. . .”

If Jimin thought getting through the party was a hassle, getting out was even more so. Every few seconds, someone stepped in front of you, asking you to dance or for another drink. Jimin furrowed his brows at this, unable to believe that they couldn’t see how out of it you were already, you needed water and to go to bed. But that didn’t stop them. Eventually, Jimin got fed up and started answering for you, placing his hand on your waist as he guided you towards the front door. You giggled as you leaned into his touch, happy as a clam.

Back outside, Jimin let out a huge gasp of air, happy to be breathing in fresh, clean night air instead of the thick hot air that was present throughout the Beta Tau house. He loosened his grip on you, but you only responded by wrapping your arms around his torso, refusing to let him go. Perhaps you were simply using him as a crutch, he thought to himself as you were stumbling a bit as you walked. But Jimin could only hope you didn’t hear the pounding of his heart against his chest as you snuggled your head into his shirt. 

Reaching his car, he opened up the passenger side door, helping you in. He watched you as you sat there, not bothering to even buckle yourself in. With a sigh, he pulled down the seatbelt, buckling you in himself. 

“You’re so sweet, Jimin,” you mumbled as he struggled to click the buckle in. Once it was in however, he felt fingers threading through his hair. “So soft.” Snapping back up right, Jimin stared at you with wide eyes. Your lips fell into a pout again, upset you could no longer play with his hair. Doing it best to ignore you, he shut the door, making his way over to the driver side.

“Okay, where do you live?” He asked once the car was started.

Yawning, you relayed your address to him. He did his best to put it into his phone, only catching the street and building, hopefully you’d be able to lead him to the right apartment. Maps said it was a 20 minute drive, the complete opposite direction of where he lived. Looking back at the time, it was almost 1:30 am. He probably wouldn’t get home till after 2. Putting on a stiff smile, he started driving towards your place.

The drive was silent, not even bothering to put on any sort of music to fill it. Every stop light, Jimin glanced over at you, your eyes shut, your chest rising and falling rhymically. Seeing you asleep in his car had his heart in a twist, he still couldn't help but wonder why you would call him. Of all people, why him? Surely you knew more people that would’ve been sober at the party, why the person you only knew from a finished school project?

Arriving at your complex, he looked over at you, still sleeping peacefully. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he shook you gently. You stirred lightly, only to wave him off, mumbling something about 5 more minutes.

“Y/N,” Jimin huffed, growing slightly annoyed with you. “Wake up, we’re here.”

Your eyes peeled open, glaring at him but you complied, unbuckling yourself. Jimin met you at your door, holding out his arm for you to grab, once again stabilizing you as you approached your building. Jimin could barely understand you as you muttered which floor you were in, only to finally let you pick the button in the elevator. 

Once again in the quiet, Jimin felt you staring up at him. Glancing at you, he was met with tired eyes, slowly blinking at him. You did that a few times before giggling to yourself, like you just told him some hilarious joke. 

“Jiminie~” You cooed. “You’re so nice”

“T-thank you.” He stiffened against you, the tips of his ears burning. God, why was this elevator taking forever?

“Cute too.” You smiled, poking at his cheeks. “So cute.”

Jimin couldn’t have been more relieved when the elevator doors finally opened, revealing a long hallway of doors. “Okay, which one is yours?” He asked, pretending like you didn’t just compliment him.

“21B,” you replied, pointing down the hall.

Jimin led you towards your apartment, ready to drop you off and go home. He partially wanted to forget this night happened, forgetting how the smell of various alcohols and vomit clung to you. You weren’t at your worst, but you certainly weren’t at your best, and Jimin wasn’t ready to see that part of you, but he knew that once he received your call, he couldn’t have just left you there. You called him. 

“Here,” he announced, helping you stand up straight. You dug around in your pocket for your key, once you found it, you handed it to him. It was starting to go a little further than he originally thought, but he allowed it. Unlocking the door, he pushed the door open for you. “Well uh, I’ll see you in class.” He was ready to walk away when your hand grabbed at his.

“Wait,” you whined. “Still need help.”

For a moment, Jimin debated on drawing the line. Again, he didn’t know you that well. His crush on you was small, like any of those other crushes you have on your fellow classmates. The ones where you simply admire them from afar, never to admit it to them. Helping you to your apartment was personal enough already, but helping you IN your apartment? That was on a whole other level.

“Please?”

Gnawing on his lip, he nodded. “Okay, okay.” 

Following you in, he watched as you stumbled about the dark apartment. It smelled pleasant, slightly citrusy, probably from one of the many candles he was beginning to notice, scattered about the place. Flicking on the lights, he helped you over to what you assume was your room, as it was the only room in the apartment. 

He helped you sit down on the bed. You extended one of your legs out to him, expecting him to take off your shoes. He obliged, untying the laces before he pulled them off your feet. Jimin half expected you to start peeling off your clothes, or worse, ask him to. But you simply scooted up towards your pillows. 

He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure if you had fallen asleep again. Assuming you were, he slowly turned on his heel, ready to leave then you began talking again.

“Don’t go yet.” Your voice came out as muffled against the pillows. You patted the spot next to you. “Sit.”

He barely even sat down on the comforter, he more so felt like he was hovering just above it, not wanting to disturb you. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, “for taking me home.”

“It’s no problem.” Jimin gave you a tight smile in return, one you didn’t see but regardless he did so. He sat there for a few minutes, waiting for you to fall asleep, but the question of why kept itching at him. “Hey, Y/N, why did you ask me? To pick you up?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, turning as you spoke, “Dunno. Didn’t want to, but I did. I just kinda. . .  fixated on you.” 

Jimin wasn’t quite sure what kind of answer he was expecting, or what kind of answer he wanted to hear. Maybe he wanted to hear that you had some sort of crush on him, and this would’ve been the start of your great love story. But it wasn’t. You simply just. . . called him. Tears pricked at his eyes, threatening to spill. Nodding, he began to excuse himself. 

“Okay. I’m just-I’m gonna go.” He said, pushing himself off your bed. Jimin didn’t even bother to wait and hear you say goodbye, he sprinted out of your apartment as quickly as possible. Just like he thought, he didn’t get back to his dorm until well after two in the morning, nearing on three as he did spend a few minutes in the parking lot, sobbing to himself. Hurt and confused over what exactly had just happened.

Like you, he didn’t even bother changing out of his clothes, just kicking off his shoes and collapsing into the bed.

Y/N: oh my god, i am so so sorry for last night

Y/N: please forget that ever happened 💀

Jimin: Consider it forgotten.

[hyungieyoongi]

Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Fluff + Angst 

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

// Part 2

---

Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.

One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.

Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.

It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.

You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.

That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.  

You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.

When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.

You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.

Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N

The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.  

Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.

“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.  

“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.

“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.

“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.

“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.

“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.

“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”

After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.  

Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.

---

Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.

He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.

Let me go.

Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.

Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.

Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.

“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.

It was you. After all this time.

---

Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.

You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.  

You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.

Until he found you. And it burst.

You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.

“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”

Hide. You wanted to hide.

“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.

“Can we...can we not do this here?”

“Fine.”

“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.

Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.

As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.

// Part 2

---

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