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muzansfangs · 6 months ago

Note

Black Russian with muzan?

The scientist and his experiment.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, spanking, power imbalance, blood and gore, violence, mention to death and death threats, mention to cannibalism, body horror, abusive language, hair pulling, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, demon!reader, orgasm denial, language, degradation, sub!reader, dom!muzan, testing onto underlings;

Plot: Experimenting in his laboratory, Muzan had tried once again to come up with a way to finally withstand the sunlight. Not keen to test the potion on himself, he had summoned you, one of the new Upper Moons who had joined the higher ranks. Teasing him about the most likely negative outcome of his experiment, you ended up smashing the cruet containing the potion and you both inhaled the exhalation generated by the liquid. If you both were pissed off a minute before the accident, why were you now growling and tearing your clothes off of your bodies?

Drink chosen: BLACK RUSSIAN (spanking, hair pulling, orgasm denial, vaginal sex, creampie);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

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“Not a day can pass without you craving my presence, huh?” you sassily gloated, head dangling from the edge of the canopied bed of the infamous Kibutsuji Muzan to stare at his back, flexing underneath the silken fabric of his shirt with each movement he made. If you were a lower rank he would have most likely already killed you.

He never truly enjoyed your presence, only restraining from getting rid of you for your loyalty and lethality. You were not the strongest Upper Moon at his service, yet you were the only one who solely searched for the Slayers and consumed them to the bone. Your diet was remarkably satisfying for him. Pillars, new recruits, you never paid attention to their rank. When they died, their flesh tasted the same.

“Silence” Muzan flatly muttered, pouring some greenish substance into a still empty cruet. Sadly, he had summoned you for testing his new experiment and had no interest in striking up a conversation with you. Let alone actually enjoying your company.

Then again, you could not actually believe he was completely unaffected by your charm. Brows knitting together in indignation, you scoffed and rolled off of the bed. Your kimono had slided down your shoulders, cleavage on full display for a wandering eye to admire, but still Muzan blatantly ignored you. He deemed you something between a slimy worm and pretty much an annoying fly, to be correct. A slave to his whims, at best, a pawn in his scheme to conquer the sun and expand his reign of terror to the daylight.

Walking up to him, you slammed your hands onto his desk, paying no attention to the papers you were creasing, as your head tilted to the side to scrutinize the way his hands flipped the pages of his diary, or how he carefully grasped a pipette to mix up multicolored substances “Shush me again and I won’t drink up your shitty potion. Or shall I refer to it as your new failed attempt to imitate the skills of that doctor you regrettably murdered, huh?” you asserted, fed up with his attitude.

This bastard should have been glad you worked so hard to purge Japan from his natural born enemies. You even went to the extent of setting fire to the wisteria you ran into through your journeys. However, it was not enough with him. It was never enough.

Muzan’s irritation grew exponentially at your words, jaw clenching in unbridled rage at the mention of his incapacity to find the blue spider lily and improve the medicine his doctor had given him so many centuries ago. You should have been grateful he had even bothered turning you into a demon, welcoming you in his kingdom, sharing his blood with you, donating incommensurable power and eternal beauty. Still, ungratefully, there you were, daring to mock him for his unsuccess in upgrading a stupid medication. He was a man of intellect, he only lacked a mere ingredient to perfect that effing brew.

“Useless brat, wash your mouth, when you talk about me. — he hissed through gritted teeth, the nails in his right hand sharpening under your now wary gaze — Will you ever understand how insignificant to me you are and how privileged you have been for having stumbled on my path?” he bitterly stated, snapping his diary close with a dull thud and tossing it across the room in sheer wrath.

His fangs had protruded from his gums, shiny, pointy and deadly. The veins rooting on his face and his pupils reduced to two slits were your last warning. You tried to dodge his attack, but the dark blood dripping down the floor from your face, as your skin slowly regenerated, were events happening in a fraction of time not even your demonic eye had registered. The pain though was there, the wince burning your throat the proof he had already struck you, before you could react.

A slash straight on your cheek, deep cuts left by his claws still bleeding up led you to clasp your hand pathetically over the wounds, as if you could stop the flow. You cussed, fury glinting in your eyes, your subservient nature leaving space to an unprecedented thirst for revenge nothing could quench. You knew beating him was impossible. Lacking the skills was the least of your problems. Why? Because how could you defeat someone who could read your mind?

You growled, fangs on full display, before your good eye darted from his face to the desk. Fetching a blow directly at him would have never worked, but not even Lord Kibutsuji could prevent glass from shattering, or ink to restore on the paper.

The moment he understood your aim was not directed at him, he did not hesitate to wrap his hand around your throat. The air was sucked out of your lungs, feet leaving the ground, kicking at the air, as you glared in defiance at him. Maybe he thought he could physically stop you, but your blood demon technique worked without you touching the elements you wanted to destroy.

“Don’t you dare” he snarled at your face, his nails digging onto your smooth flesh drawing crescent bloody moons, tinging your white kimono in a crimson shade of red.

“Respectfully, f-fuck you” you choked out, smiling like a mad woman as you snapped your fingers and the very potion he had just ultimated exploded into a million splinters under his incredulous eyes. The sound of the glass shattering was the sign of your victory. You were probably going to die, your immortal life coming to an end by the very hands of the man who had gifted you that second chance of living like a supernatural being.

But you smiled, you never stopped smiling, not even as your forehead was smashed down against the edge of the desk. You laughed instead, an hysterical but genuine laughter that made Muzan’s blood boil as he tangled his fingers through your hair and strained your neck back to meet your eyes. Pain was long forgotten in that very moment. Every fiber of your body screamed to you that you had reached a level of freedom from him no one had ever been able to reach.

“You are a degenerate worm not deserving of existing. The sight of you makes me vomit” he deadpanned, forcing you back on your feet roughly and tightening the grip on your hair, as he watched the puddle of the liquid spilled sizzling onto the carpet underneath his feet, liquifying it. He had failed then. He had wasted his time once again. Two weeks spent in mixing together ingredients, studying new a formula, only to be reminded of the thruth you had shouted at his face: he could not match the skill of that damned doctor.

He never lost his composure, not even when he punished his underlings. But you had truly amazed him with your stupid antics and a kink for self-destructing choices. He had made up his mind. You could not live another day. You had to die, now. It would have not been enough to calm him down but it was going to be extremely satisfying anyway. He wanted to be covered in your blood, only to forget your name when he would have washed himself.

But no, he needed you to suffer. What a way to go down it would have been, if he devoured you?

“I was right, you’re too dumb to comprehend chemistry” you spluttered out, your vision finally restored albeit you were still bleeding out on the parquet.

The moment he heard the sound of you voice again, he pinned your head down onto what remained of his potion, disgust in his gaze as he watched you whimper out in pain as the liquid burned your skin. It was corrosive, your flesh on fire as he forced you to practically wipe the carpet with your cheek. The sadism in his action dripped hatred, while tears brimmed up in your eyes. You clawed at the carpet, disperately attempting to set yourself free, but Muzan had other plans for you. Kneeling down next to your writhing frame, he grinned, lifting your head up to examine the resault of his assault. Your cheek was deeply damaged, but you would have surely been able to regenerate it.

“Tell me, Y/N, would you rather have me consume you to the bone, or reduce you to nothing by biting chunks off of your body? Tell me, you stupid bitch” he chimed, your mouth going dry as you inhaled sharply, eyelids closing to avoid looking him in the eye.

Muzan clicked his tongue, impressed by your sudden silence. He leaned even closer, taking a whiff of the disturbing smell of that potion that had scarred your face. His lips curled into a crooked smile, his eyes watching intently the way you sobbed and your skin gradually restored its former smoothness. Your head was spinning at this point, breath uneven, whilst Muzan pushed you down onto the carpet once again. He had all the intent of beginning to devour you, his mouth salivating as he leaned down closer to you.

He barely had the time to pierce your jugular, though, that he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably. A boner in the middle of a hunt. This was not exactly what he had anticipated, just like the sweat beading his forehead and his heart pumping the blood faster in his veins. This was primal arousal, a need setting his body on fire as he pulled his bloodied mouth away from your neck. Your whine, pained, was strained with something else. Muzan saw the way you were writhing underneath him, chest heaving, as you pressed your thighs together.

Your dilated pupils, the way droplets of sweat were running down the valley of your breasts causing his cock to twitch into his undergarments. You were just as aroused as he was, thrashing onto the carpet in agony. He could smell your hormones, he could see the way you were looking at him questioningly. You were on fire.

“What the Hell have you done to me?” you blurted out, gripping the collar of his shirt so harshly it ended up being torn.

Muzan refused to believe this was the effect caused by his potion, but it was the only valid explanation to this. He bristled, swatting your hand away and growling at your face like an animal “Oh, believe him, I wanted to kill you, not to fuck you. — he snarled, grasping your jaw roughly and leaning his face down to let his lips hover over yours hazardously — Now, however, I have no other choice but to rut into someone. The question is: do you want to be that someone and be satisfied, or do you wish for me to end your misery in a more brutal and permanent way?” he hissed, watching the way you stared daggers at him.

You had a choice, that much was true. You did not want to die, you still had plenty of things to do before dying. The possibility to be eradicated from the world was not alluring anymore. Your clit throbbing between your legs, craving attention, some kind of friction, made you agree with him. You gritted your teeth, legs spread to let him accomodate between them.

“So be it” you stated, watching him fidget with his hands to unbuckle the belt keeping his trousers up.

It was not something you two could control. The fire coiling on your lower abdomen matched the pulsing desire in Muzan’s briefs. Gentleness, care were far away from them. The moment he had gotten rid of his clothes, he was already disrobing you of yours.

You thought it was going to be a regular intercourse, something to look back at with a weird sense of disgust and the thrill of the rush, but it turned out to be much more than that. Flipping you over your stomach, Muzan gripped your hair with one hand to force you to arch your spine. The bulbous tip of his cock dragging up and down your slippery heat to collect your juices.

“If you think I am merciful enough to grant you the sight of my face, you’re even more of a goose than I deemed you to be” he rasped out, your scalp stinging, as he yanked you back against his chest.

You whined, mouth ajar, as you felt him enter you. The friction was surprisingly smooth and pleasurable, your spongy walls sucking him in perfectly, whilst he grunted from behind you “Honored! You should feel honored I’m f-fucking you” he mocked you, hips driving into yours quickly, smacking your skin with a ferocity you had never experienced before.

You moaned out, unable to look back at his face, but capable to speak up again “I should’ve let you fuck your fist. How would it have felt, huh? Instead— fuck, instead, there you are, nestled into me and moaning like a pig to the slaughter… H-How low the Demon King has fallen” you taunted him nack, regretting your impudent display of courage instantly.

The smack on your rear felt like incandescent iron on your flesh, his cock rubbing insistently through your walls causing you to babble out incoherent words you could not repeat. Muzan was furious, his desire to ruin you and humiliate you blinding him as he felt you clamping down onto his length tightly. No, you did not deserve to reach your orgasm, but he did.

The sudden feeling of emptiness within you felt like a cold shower, as you gasped and tried to whip your head around to meet his gaze “What—”.

The audacity, the direspect you continued to show him could not proceed any further. He could not bear the sight of you for any longer.

Your protests falling deaf to his ears, as he pumped his shaft with one hand, lolling his head back in ecstasy as he felt his orgasm wash over him as a violent wave. The feeling of his seed dripping down over the curve of ass, warm, sticky, was the last thing you felt before you heard the biwa’s melody echo through the room and you fell naked and alone into a black-pitch forest.

Underserving of an answer. Underserving of a goodbye. You were nothing for him.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi, there! Well, guys, what can I say? Muzan is a walking red flag. Let’s be real, albeit I love studying his character and personality, he would very much do all of the atrocities you’ve read in my fic. I do not condone any of this and I never will, therefore I will keep on depicting him more human in my modern au’s and pretend he is a good person. Stay the fuck away from people like him, hons❤️

Writing is fun, but he is a monster.

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @mrskokushibo @doumadono

#kibutsuji muzan x reader #muzan x reader #muzan smut #demon slayer smut #kny smut #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #demon slayer fanfic #muzan x you #muzan x y/n #muzan kibutsuji

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bouquetface · 6 months ago

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SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS 2

Accuracy influenced by entire natal chart. This is NOT a person read. Looking at only aspect or placement will only give general information.

Lilith conjunct ASC:

Strong attraction. A forbidden kind of attraction. Could be due to many reasons. Possible examples:

One is significantly older, One is already in a relationship at the time of meeting, One could be a coworker or person in authority.

Chiron conjunct ASC:

Chiron person could be triggered by ASC person. Due to their lifestyle, attitude or approach to life.

For EX, let’s say this occurs in the sign of gemini. This sign is typically fast, curious and communicative. The chiron person may have grown up misunderstood their entire lives. They struggle to communicate and/or be understood effectively. The ASC gemini person likely has a fast thinking, fast moving way of life. They’re curious, bore easily and move onto the next topic fast. If the ASC gemini person isn’t willing to slow down, they risk hurting chiron. As chiron may not feel they mix well with ASC person’s lifestyle.

Chiron conjunct Venus:

An amazing placement especially if the man is venus. Venus’s natural way of expressing love can heal chiron.

I’ve seen this happen in the sign of Capricorn. In past relationships, chiron questioned whether they were enough. Their ex critiqued them and negatively compared them to other women.

In their marriage with a Venus Cap, they feel absolutely appreciated and admired.

Sun conjunct Venus:

The couple above also has this aspect. The woman is a Cap sun, she naturally has the traits this Venus Cap desires in a wife. The Venus Cap often talks highly about her. He tells her and others he can’t believe she even exists because she is his dream girl. He has said before he’s shocked someone so perfect would be with him. This aspect can be a good ego boost for the Venus person.

Venus conjunct Jupiter:

Really positive. When these two are together there is an abundance of love and joy. A good marriage/long term connection indicator. It’s hard to resist each other because of the good times/feelings you have when together.

The only downside, these two may overindulge too much when together. Leading to enabling behaviour. Possibly overspending and overdoing.

So while it can be good, 2 times I’ve seen this as Jupiter feeling drained in the end. They poured so much into Venus to keep them happy but Venus never felt satisfied/always desired more. The other 1 time I’ve known a couple with this aspect, it resulted in marriage. I believe this aspect may work better when Jupiter is the man & Venus is the woman.

Chiron conjunct Chiron:

This can manifest as bonding over similarities in your past struggles. However, if both are not in a matured stage of life, they may trigger each other. Bringing out the worst behaviours in each other.

Moon Square Moon:

This could create tension that leads to passion. Scorpio and fire sign venus may enjoy this aspect in their relationships. However, it may lead to emotional pain. Both could struggle to understand & properly care for the other.

Aries Moon Square Cancer Moon:

This is particularly difficult from what I’ve seen. The aries moon felt the cancer moon is “weak” and “overly sensitive”. The aries moon expresses passion in a more aggressive & teasing manner. The cancer moon, especially if they don’t have fire sign placements, could be hurt by this. They don’t understand and/or like the way aries moon’s expresses themselves.

COMPOSITE CHART OBSERVATIONS:

MC conjunct Uranus: To outsiders, the relationship feels unstable. The relationship may have on and off stages.

Mars in 12th. Generally, this isn’t a good placement. Indicates hidden resentment. One person likely does not fully understand the reason for the other’s anger/frustration.

- I’ve seen this manifest as a woman who many bad experiences with men in the past. This made her untrusting of her boyfriend. She feels past experiences made her take some frustrations out on her boyfriend. He did not fully understand her angry outbursts since he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Moon in 12th. A positive manifestation is knowing what the other needs subconsciously. You are in tune with each other’s feelings on a deeper level.

A negative manifestation is one person’s emotional needs are not being met. For this reason, they are unable to feel comfortable and properly loved.

2nd house ruler in 12th. In my opinion, this is the worst to have. This suggests one’s ability to feel secure is lost. Trust does not come easy. Communication needs to be strong to overcome this placement.

12th H Libra

12th can reveal what may potentially break the couple up or be a hidden problem in the relationship. By hidden I mean issues that are repressed or a sub conscious issue.

In the sign of Libra, inability to compromise, inability to peacefully resolve problems and inability to be make decisions together could be a problem.

Venus in 12th H

The couple may struggle with emotional intimacy. The physical is easy and enjoyable but emotionally opening up is not.

This can indicate a relationship where for some reason the couple hides their love when in front of people. And/Or they hide their true feelings from each other.

This is a tricky placement. While the two are interested in one another, creating a harmonious connection is not easy. Peace is disrupted. The couple can be chaotic.

Jupiter in 12th H

This is actually positive in my experience. The couple has luck on their side to solve any issues. However, luck may not be enough to save the connection if it turns sour. Yet, there will be many opportunities to resolve their problems. The two have a genuine desire to fight for one another. The two can understand each other on an intuitive level. You just get each other.

Example: This is actually my friend’s observation. She observed in the composite of her parents, Jupiter and Venus are in conjunction in 12th H. She told me her parents have had a lot of struggles but remain happily together. There is an abundance of love.

Her mom once told her, her and her dad were literally made for one another. No matter what problems arises only the two of them will be able to help one another. No one else will be able to understand them.

Some astrologers say Venus is the wife and Jupiter is the husband so when conjunct in composite, it can be that saving grace placement.

Sun in First House

The relationship can be the main focus of your life. This can be good or bad. It’s not healthy to cut off your own personal life to cater to one person. But if you can maintain your own identities, this should be a good placement.

I’ve noticed when this is in composite the couple can become known for the relationship. Especially, if Sun is the 10th H ruler and/or if the 10th H has many planets.

Mars in First House

There can be a lot of energy in this relationship. Arguments are bound to happen in any relationship but for this one in particular there will be many. If you are two people who are good at resolving issues and kind of enjoy a more chaotic dynamic, this can work out well.

However, if you don’t like your peace disrupted and fights make you uneasy, this is not a good indicator for a relationship.

You may become known for being “that couple”. Good or bad. Depending on whether people find out about your fights.

Mercury in First House

You don’t fear judgement when together. You can talk about anything and everything. This is a good indicator. A couple that never runs out of things to talk about. It isn’t necessarily a romantic or sexual indicator. So if not supported by other placements in the chart, this can be a relationship where the spark dies out quickly. Better off as friends kind of relationship.

Uranus & Neptune in 4th H

This relationship has a rocky foundation. You may love the idea of what can be more than what is happening. Fantasizing about how you’ll become a better couple when in reality it’s not going so well.

This can be an on and off connection. Whether you are together and committed to one another is not always clear.

However, the positive manifestation is you both value freedom. You have mutual respect for one another. You may have a non traditional start to the connection. The two may constantly move around. You may have to leave home throughout your lives. Not necessarily negative it could be possibly due to work.

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on-a-lucky-tide · 25 days ago

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Simon's body matures into its prime. There's only one mate he wants. #GhostPriceWeek.

Day One: Confession/Kneel.

cw: omegaverse, penetrative sex, dubcon by nature of Price's sex negative attitude, gentle sex, bonding. ( @gomzdrawfr )

Simon wasn't sure what had changed or why, but he knew he was looking at Price differently these days and he couldn't ignore it for much fuckin’ longer. It was driving him even more insane than he already was.

Price had been helping him–them, all of ‘em–through ruts for the last few years. When it had just been the two of them, Simon would spend the few days leave in Price's Hereford flat exhausting himself between Price's legs and then they would return to normal once the cycle had passed. It had been hard at first, trusting someone, but like in everything, Price had his back. He had only ever treated Simon with dignity and respect.

When the other two joined, Simon didn't bat an eyelid. It made sense. Price was logical like that; easier for them to fuck him and get it over with in a few days, than long it out over a week and risk them snooping around the local villages, potentially ending up with a pup brewing and an angry farmer at the barrack gates with a shotgun. Johnny had priors with it too. Simon had seen the indiscretions on his record, and Gaz was so painfully good-looking that Simon wouldn't be surprised if there were already a few Garrick pups knocking about North London.

The arrangement bloody worked. Everyone seemed satisfied. So why had Simon started… yearning?

The word had appeared when he'd googled his symptoms one day in a coffee shop. He'd headed off base to do it because all the search histories passed over Price's desk at some point, with questionable or worrying shit highlighted by the IT team for review, and he really didn't need that conversation. “Why are your guts aching, Simon? Do you need medical?” Price would ask, that stern line between his brows, lips pressed down in a deep frown.

No, sir, my intestines seem to twist themselves in knots every time I see you shirtless at the moment and I can't stop thinkin' about how much I want to shove my tongue down yer throat, now about that requisition form…

But it wouldn't be like that. Simon would stand there in dumb silence trying to find the words to explain that being around Price at the moment made him ache in ways he had never experienced before. That when he was alone in his own flat a short bus ride away from base, he thought of their time together with a hand around his knot and his knuckles between his teeth. He thought about how good the indomitable John Price would look in the throes of heat, completely vulnerable.

He must have been acting differently, because Price had become more distant. Detached, almost. He was shorter, sharper, than Simon had ever known him to be, even when his temper occasionally flared in the face of red tape and stupidity. Simon needed to get this, whatever this was, under control.

Sitting in that café with his black coffee and Bakewell tart, Simon had learned that an alpha of his age was reaching full maturity and his body was ready to find a permanent mate. By mid-thirties, an alpha’s strength and esteem within a pack was fully established, or it would be if the world still worked like it did a few thousand years ago. If they were still in loincloths, Simon would have battered his fair share of pack alphas and worked his way to the top by now. An omega would select him as worthy and choose him to father their pups. His body was just doing what it had done throughout millennia. Preparing.

In all honesty, his sex ed’ had been woefully lacking. Partly because the mixed comprehensive he had attended had been in special measures and the PSHE lessons had been all out brawls at some points, but also because his attendance had dropped below fifty percent fairly regularly throughout his compulsory education. ‘Very intelligent and capable, but limited by his frequent absences,’ had been his school report a few months before he had scraped just enough GCSEs to fall into a trade apprenticeship, and then September eleventh had happened and his whole world outlook had changed.

The guidance on the website also told him that his scent would change. That he might experience more attention from fertile omegas, and notice their scents more, their bodies. There was a paragraph about consent that followed and Simon had winced at the implications of needing it. He had met enough knotheads in his time even outside his own deranged father, fuckin’ Roba, to know why it was there. While most omegas were dominant and fierce by nature, the modern world had flipped things. Sometimes it just wasn't that straight forward.

The notes said it would pass. By late forties, his hormones would ebb away to normal levels again and by then he'd either be mated or, in his case, probably dead. The odds weren’t exactly in his bloody favour with his current choice of career. They also said his attention would probably flit between options, from omega to omega, as his body sought to spread its genetics as far as possible.

Except it fucking didn't, did it?

There were other omegas on base. A gorgeous blonde in logistics with tits and arse for days, a strapping redheaded mechanic with strong thighs and a pretty smile, then there was the brunette in medical. But those are cursory observations. Simon saw them as attractive in the detached manner you looked at someone who was attractive in the traditional sense. Yeah, he could see it, but he didn't want it.

He wanted Price. His fockin’ captain.

Tart and coffee finished, Simon had headed back to base. He tried to exhaust himself in the gym, finished some paperwork, and eventually wandered to the mess hall for some dinner. It was just as he was tucking into a pile of mashed potatoes and gravy that his phone pinged.

CJP: My office.

Simon chucked his tray onto the trolley and headed out. By the time he was knocking on Price's door, his heart was beating hard in anticipation. Of fuckin’ what, he had no idea. Clearly needed to watch less porn because the image his mind provided of Price spread out on his desk, presenting, was bloody unhelpful.

“Simon.” Price acknowledged him with a glance as he shut the door behind him. The room was warm, the old radiator beneath the window chucking out more heat than was strictly necessary this early in October. The lights were dim too, the brightness on Price's monitor turned down lower, and there was a subtle, sweet scent beneath the must of paper, furniture polish and old wallpaper that usually hung in the air.

The primal part of Simon recognised it for what it was, and the rest of him caught up as he got a good look at Price; his cheeks flushed, his blue eyes bright. Pre-heat. Price was getting more sensitive to everything; light, the cold. The smell in here had to be bloody awful to his sensitive nose. Simon blinked slowly, taking a deep breath through the fabric of the mask just to taste more of that glorious promise. If he could lick it out of the air, he would.

“We've got a problem,” Price murmured, slumping back in his chair, his fingers wounded together over his belly.

Simon didn't need to ask. He knew. “S’not a problem, sir. I can keep it under control.”

Price looked down, his face twisting in a brief grimace as he considered the edge of his desk. “S’not just you, Simon. It's me as well.”

Simon blinked, shifting his weight. “Wot?”

“Yer think I can't smell ya? When ya left the gym few hours ago I was meetin’ with Saunders about some performance data. Could smell ya from the otherside of the corridor.”

“Weren’t that fockin’ bad…”

“T’ normal man, no.”

There was an edge in Price's voice. Simon knew his secondary sex was a sore spot. If Price could have chosen, he would have been born an alpha. He despised everything about what he viewed as his ‘condition’. No one else knew, of course. The captain played his personal life close to his chest. Most of the time people assumed he was an alpha and didn’t look any closer. He was six foot two, built like a soldier should be; there was no reason to assume otherwise.

Perfect in every way, Simon's mind offered unhelpfully. Followed by an intrusive thought about how strong and intelligent their pups would be. Fuckin’ ‘ell.

“Was’the plan?”

Because there was always a plan and Simon would follow Price into hellfire if he asked.

“Thought about sending you away, reassigning you,” Price said, his gaze flicking up to level Simon with a pensive look. “Bu’ I couldn't. Need ya. 141 needs ya.”

Simon realised he could breathe again. The mere idea that Price would send him away - to fuckin’ where? No reasonable officer would take him on - left him frozen, every muscle seizing like he'd been turned to stone. Need ya.

Not just the 141. But Price. Price needed him.

“Then wot? Wot we doin’ ‘ere?” Simon’s voice crackled, the words cloying in his throat.

That grimace was back. A pinched look of regret pulled Price’s lips back, his eyes squinting. He scrubbed a hand over his beard and breathed in a deep breath through his nose. “Gonna ask ya sommin’. Ya can say no. S’your right t’ say no. Ya’understand?”

Simon’s fingers clenched into his palms, and he dipped his chin in a barely perceptible nod.

“This… whatever it is. Could put ‘em danger, Johnny, Gaz, any soldier we have with us. It's foggin’ our minds, distractin’ us. I can't afford that in the field,” Price spoke slowly, like he was trying to reason with himself as well as Simon. “Way I see it is we need t’ nip it in the bud. Best way to do that is give it what it needs. A bond.”

An errant gust of wind could have knocked Simon to the floor at that moment. Like a giant rotten oak tree barely clinging on in the soil. His mouth went dry, huffing in another deep lungful of Price's scent as his heart accelerated in his chest.

“I know ‘m askin’ a lot of ya. More an’ I ever have. But what we do, the greater good we fight for, s’too important t’--”

“Yeah.”

“Wot?”

“Yeah, I'll do it. I wan’ it. Wan’ you.” The confession tripped out of Simon's mouth before he could stop it. He stepped up to the desk, his hands planting on the surface, which, in hindsight, had probably been a poor choice. He watched Price tense in his chair briefly, before he slowly rose to his feet, weathered palms planting opposite Simon's to level him with a stern look.

“That's the hormones talkin’. Ya need t’ think it through.”

“Naw, I don’t,” Simon said, studying the freckles on Price's face, the sun damage on his forehead, the wrinkles around bright blue eyes, strong jaw framed by his uneven beard. A face he linked with safety and certainty and leadership. “S'you, s’always been you.”

Price dropped his eyes away, his head hanging for a moment, the sigh that followed sounded dog tired. When he looked up, those blue eyes had hardened, the light dulled.. “Simon, ya committin’ to a bond. S’for life. And ya not gettin’ a sweet thing that’ll fawn over ya. I'm not gonna give ya a pup, no family of yer own, ‘m not gonna kneel for ya, not gonna walk barefoot round yer kitchen, do ya laundry. ‘m not some pretty arm piece, Simon. Few years of lookin’, ya might find yerself a proper mate.”

“Don't care ‘bout any of that. Never have.”

“Because ya never gave yerself a chance,” Price growled, rubbing at his face again. “Take a day. Think about it. Fer…” he swallowed, “...fer me, if not for yerself.”

Simon could smell something new. It was bitter on the back of his tongue. Distress. He lifted one of his hands without thinking, reaching for Price's face, but the captain flinched back. It was an involuntary response and Simon hated himself for causing it. “Sorry,” he grunted, fingers curling into his palm.

“S’fine, jus’...” Price stood up straight, adjusting his t-shirt, thumbs hooking in his belt. Recovering himself, “...go, fink it over, don't give me an answer ‘til tomorrow after work.”

“Right.” Simon stepped back from the desk even though every instinct was screaming at him to protect Price from whatever was causing that smell. There was no immediate threat so he couldn't even fight something; his entire skill set rendered useless in the face of whatever battle was going on inside Price's head. “See you for mornin’ briefing, sir.”

Price nodded. Simon left.

He didn't sleep that night. He stared up into the gloomy grey above his bed, wholly fixated on the parting image of Price, his face pinched, his scent riddled with distress and misery. He didn't want this, did he? Didn't want Simon like Simon wanted him. But what was new? Simon was perpetually unwanted. It was the story of his life.

This was the right thing though. For the 141 and, Simon knew, for him. A mate like Price was more than he could have ever aspired to in normal circumstances. He had resigned himself to dying unbonded, to never experiencing what it felt like to be one with another person, to hear their voice and feel peace, to smell their scent and feel joy, to taste their skin, hold them, and feel whole.

He had given himself to Price in all but bond anyway. This was a natural next step, even if Price himself seemed conflicted. It was an imperfect solution, riddled with grey, the cracks in the facade papered over, but that was them through and through.

The following day went by slower than a slug crawling across a salt flat. Price was nowhere to be found, sequestered away in his office while he tried to tidy up urgent matters before his three days of booked leave. Simon ran courses with the new batch of rookies up for selection and sparred with Johnny in the gym. The opportunity to exercise his physicality was welcome. His body was strong, capable, the best part of him. The part of him that would serve Price loyally.

After dinner, Simon headed back to Price's office and tapped the door. The voice from the other side sounded even more exhausted than it had the night before. “Simon,” Price said, not looking up from the form in front of him. “Got yer answer then?”

“Yeah,” Simon said, “it's a yes. I accept. I… wan’ to bond with ya.”

Price placed his pen down slowly and leaned back in his chair. There was sweat on his temples and Simon could smell him even stronger than the day before. Fuckin’ delicious. “Right,” Price said. “Simon, you, uh… you need to know my heat, it's uhm… I find it difficult. Never shared it with anyone before.”

Simon could see Price's discomfort. How much he hated exposing this vulnerability. He sniffed, scratched his chin, and finally looked up at Simon's masked face. Simon blinked slowly. “S’ok. We’ll take it at your pace. You headin’ off tonight?”

Price glanced at the duffel bag on the chair by the window and nodded. “Yeah. You, uh… we can wait ‘til next time if you were savin’ yer leave for somethin’ special.”

“Naw, I'm good. You alright to put it through so I can go shove some pants in a bag?”

Price huffed. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, not only approvin’ your leave requests but now I'm fillin’ ‘em in for you lazy bastards.” He tapped at his keyboard and jutted his chin at the door. “G'won. Leavin’ base at nine. Don't be late.”

Simon left Price to do his paperwork and headed back to his quarters. He grabbed some underwear, some clean t-shirts and a pair of flannel shorts, his headphones and the Asimov paperwork he was chewing through at the average pace of a single page every three days. Omegas needed to sleep at some point, right?

The final hour for departure sped by and soon Simon was heading out into the base car park to find Price's old Land Rover chugging away on the tarmac. Price sat in the driver's seat, wrapped in his coat and scarf, beanie pulled low over his ears, breathing into his hands.

“All good?” Price asked as Simon climbed into the passenger seat.

“Yeah. You… uh, you ok to drive?”

Price’s jaw twitched and Simon regretted opening his stupid fucking mouth. “Yeah. Fine. Stupor will set in later. Once I'm…” his voice dropped, “nesting.” He said it like it was an embarrassing admission, not a natural part of his instincts and cycle. Simon didn't probe any further and sat in silence as Price pushed the Landie into first and pulled away. The drive into town was quiet. Price turned on the radio once they'd pulled off base and they listened to the latest chart on BBC Hereford & Worcester.

Price had a little one bedroom flat in Leominster that he commuted from most days. Sometimes he kipped over in the barracks after a long shift and it wasn't unusual to find him asleep in the rec room if a briefing had over run and he was too tired to drive back. The 141 knew it well as they had spent their ruts there since they'd joined the task force. It was cozy, clean, with traces of their captain as a man rather than a legend.

When Simon stepped through the front door, the Land Rover tucked up for the night in the carport, he drew in a deep breath and felt his eyes flutter. He shed his coat and kicked his boots off and watched with no small amount of affection as Price grabbed them immediately to stack next to his, before slipping into a pair of well trodden slippers. “Brew?” Price asked as they headed into the open plan living room.

“Yeah, gaspin’,” Simon said, placing his duffel down by the arm of the couch before slumping into the middle of it. The material was a well worn brushed cotton, with two tartan fleece blankets thrown over the back. Simon pulled his mask over his head and ruffled a hand through his flattened hair, before burying his newly naked face into the scent of Price soaked into the soft material. He could picture him here in the evenings, wrapped up and snoozing, probably snoring his bloody head off like he did on op. But relaxed, at home, nested.

“Yer like a fuckin’ bloodhound,” Price grumbled as he walked over, a steaming mug of tea clutched in each hand.

“I ain't drinkin’ outta that Liverpool mug.”

“Ahh, wind yer neck in, it's mine.” Price dumped the other mug on the coffee table in front of Simon, and then fell into the armchair. Still keeping a slight distance. This was different from when they met to weather Simon's rut. Simon was the vulnerable one in that and he trusted Price implicitly, but now their roles were reversed, and Price wasn’t used to not holding the leash.

Simon slurped a mouthful of tea - perfect brew, strong, two sugars - and glanced at the telly when Price switched it on. The ten o’clock news, a slew of reports about how the world was going to shit and the rich were benefiting from it. Simon was only half paying attention, maybe not even half, because from the corner of his eye he was observing Price.

He was slumped low in the chair, his lips parted, his eyes misty. The scent rolling off of him was saccharin, deeply appealing, and Simon's fingers twitched against the warm ceramic of his mug. Price managed to finish his before his eyes slid closed, his breathing growing a little ragged as his fingers kneaded at the arms of his chair. “Captain?” Simon prompted, his mug landing softly on a coaster.

“Yeah, I'm good…”

“D’ya need anythin’?”

Price swallowed, observing Simon from beneath low lashes. A grimace passed over his face, his thighs pushing together. “Gonna shower… there's scran in the fridge, help yasel’.” His accent thickened briefly as his mind struggled to find purchase, and Simon watched him head into the bedroom with a faint smile. He listened to Price move around his bedroom through the wall, and then the rush of water as he turned the shower on.

How long did he wait? Did he coax? It was usually easier than this. Price led the way, tugging Simon's clothes off, praising him in that rough, no-nonsense way he had; stable, certain. This Price was different. He was distant, anxious, even. Simon waited until the stream of water was disrupted, sloshing against the glass and tiles, before he rolled to his feet.

Maybe it was a shitty thing to do, but he knew he needed to do something. Price was clearly struggling. Limping through the last few hours before his heat settled in and dreading every moment of it. Simon pulled his clothes off, folding them over the laundry basket near the bedroom door, before he walked into the bathroom. He found Price panting in the steam, his hands against the wall as the water streamed down his freckled back, head bowed low between his shoulders.

He wasn't quiet as he slid the glass shower door to the side and slipped into the cubicle, his palm sliding over Price's ribs to glide up his chest. Price startled with a snarl, twisting around to latch a hand around Simon's throat as the other snatched his wrist. “Easy,” Simon whispered, airways restricted as Price squeezed. “Lemme help. Not gonna hurt ya, John.”

Price's shoulders heaved, blue eyes bright and feverish. Simon leaned into the palm at his throat and realised Price’s arm gave. He was shaking. Simon slid a palm up the tiles and eased Price back against his forearm as he pushed further, closer, until his lips slotted to Price’s and his tongue swept into his mouth. Simon used his greater height and bulk to his advantage, enveloping Price in his arms and drawing him into the warmth of his body, hand sliding down his back to his arse to bring their hips together.

Price was skittish, he wanted the kiss but kept drawing back before licking forward again, like he was clinging onto the cliff edge by his fingernails. His hands scrambled over Simon's chest, pushing him, gripping him, uncertain how to respond to the alpha swamping him. Price wasn't small, not by any standard, but Simon had a little extra, enough to cradle him, make him feel safe. Where Price was athletic and lean in his height and strength, Simon was bulky. Lots for a hungry omega to sink his teeth into.

“Simon…” Price grunted, tensing up as Simon's mouth kissed down his throat to the slope of his neck where his gland sat beneath his skin. His nails bit into Simon's shoulders, lips peeling back in a low growl. “Don't… not… not ready, can't…”

“S’ok, I know,” Simon murmured. “Relax. Need ya t’ trust me. Not gonna hurt ya.”

“‘m… don't judge me, for…”

“Not gonna. None o’ this will make me think anythin’ less of you, sir. S’a gift.”

Price flinched. “S’a curse. I… I fuckin’ hate it.”

“I know,” Simon murmured, opening his mouth to suckle on Price’s neck as he caressed up and down his body. Every pass of his palms over flushed skin seemed to be easing the tension, gentling him into his heat. His touch only paused to grab the soap and shampoo, washing Price tenderly, encouraged by the way he arched and writhed beneath the smooth glide of skin on skin. Simon worshipped every scar, every mole, every dip and curve of muscle. Those ragged pants broke around soft whimpers and soon the steam was saturated with the scent of an aroused omega’s heat.

When his fingers slipped over the full curve of Price’s arse to the crease of his thigh, Price’s foot shifted out, inviting Simon's caress between his legs. Simon gladly provided, fingertips stroking gently over slick folds, pressing a little firmer with each pass until he was teasing Price's hole, tight muscles fluttering at Simon's finger in eager anticipation. “Fuck… you're wet…”

“‘m.. in the shower..” Price rasped, sounding dazed, and Simon smiled against his neck. Tentative hands began to explore Simon’s body, following familiar paths around his full tits and down his stomach to the thick, hot length of his erection pressing into Price’s hips. Simon shifted his own until his shaft could slide between Price's thighs. Spread as they were, it was just a tease, the ridge of his crown drawing back and forth over Price's slit, glans catching across the swell of his own small cock and making him stutter.

Simon moaned into Price’s neck, the scent, the heat, the feeling of Price's strong body yielding to him inch by inch, it was a heady mix that was teasing him higher into feverish excitement. But he couldn't knot Price here. The first one took a while to go down and he didn't fancy keeping six foot plus of omega pinned to cold tiles while they waited for the tie to end.

Simon drew Price out of the water and wrapped him in the warm towel from the radiator. The bedroom was warm, the bed even warmer as Simon lowered Price into it, tugging the towel into the floor, and nudging his thighs apart as he leaned down for a kiss. Simon ground his cock through Price's folds, smearing slick and precum over flushed hot skin. Price arched, opening his hips and hitching his legs high up Simon's sides.

Simon gathered one of Price’s hands and wound their fingers together, pressing them into the mattress above Price's head as he reached down to guide his cock. He held it steady as he thrust his tip into the tight clutch of Price's body, teasing back and forth. It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Simon, hnn, ahh… please…”

“Tell me ya wan’ this.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck… ahh, please…”

“Yer fuckin’ gorgeous, sir. Look at you.”

Simon kissed him, sucking his lips, his tongue, but drew back when he began to thrust in deeper. He wanted to watch Price’s face as he was taken for the first time. The way it relaxed in bewildered pleasure, blue eyes rolling; glistening, kiss-swollen lips parting as a low moan trembled from his chest. Simon bottomed out, his balls pressed to the underside of Price's arse, full and heavy in the heat.

He had never wanted to knot and breed so much in his life. Not even in the chokehold of rut did the urge feel this strong. The scent of heat soaked his tongue, cloyed in his throat, and as Simon began to thrust deep into Price's body, the snug, warm grip of it sucking so eagerly on the thick girth of his prick, Price finally relaxed, his head tilting back as he panted and moaned.

The sheets dampened beneath his arched back, Simon's hand slipping beneath him, encouraging the curve of his spine as Simon sat up on his knees, drawing Price up onto his lap to bounce him down onto his cock with his furred chest pressed up and open, letting Simon suck and kiss his full tits, his dusky nipples pebbled hard in arousal as tongue and teeth swept over them.

Price clenched a hand in Simon’s hair, the other dropping behind him to support his weight against the mattress so he had agency in the roll of his hips, meeting each of Simon’s thrusts over his sweet spot. Now that he didn't need both hands to support Price’s body, Simon snuck one between them, thumb rubbing the swell of Price’s leaking cock. Price got loud, more than the stifled pants of their usual trysts. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck–”

Price's thighs pushed wide as his orgasm curled through him, sinking down until every inch of Simon’s thick cock was inside him. Simon ground in, growling low in his chest as he felt Price pulse and throb around his cock, slick dripping down his balls and thighs. Price was completely lost in pleasure, fockin’ beautiful, flushed and euphoric. He didn't fight when Simon shifted him onto his front and raised his hips, mounting him while on his feet, two big hands pressing down on his waist. Price dropped his chest to the bed and spread his knees wide, cocking his hips so that Simon could thrust deep. It was a natural breeding position and Simon's arousal intensified, cock rock hard as his omega presented.

Watching Price's back muscles flex, his arse cheeks ripple under the force of Simon's thrusts, hearing his blissed out noises as they were punched from his chest, soon teased Simon's knot out of him. It swelled just as Price's second orgasm tightened his hole, and Simon ground forward, circling his hips until it popped inside clenching muscle.

Price cried out, his orgasm intensifying as his body pulsed, instinctually milking Simon for every drop as he came. It was intense; mind-fuckingly good. Simon scrunched his eyes closed and saw lights behind his lids, and he listened as Price’s gravelly voice broke and whimpered through the swells of pleasure rolling through him.

When the aftershocks calmed, Simon eased them onto their sides, wrapping Price in his arms as his knot stayed snug inside his body. He pressed kisses into his damp hair, teased sensitive skin, and whispered praise. They dozed like that, surfacing to exchange lazy kisses before drifting off again. When Simon's knot went down, he drew out gently, only to replace his cock with his fingers. Price's hole was sloppy, loose and relaxed, and Simon groaned low in his throat. “Gonna breed you, love. Gonna make you mine.”

Price chuffed softly in response, thighs flopping open so that Simon could caress him properly, pushing his leaking seed back inside. Simon didn't need asking twice.

They mated throughout the night into the early morning. Simon left the bed long enough to get some food and water, and helped Price with both as the haze of heat made his movements sluggish. After a few hours of sleep, Simon woke him with another knot, holding him back to chest as he slid into him from behind. Each knot was a thorough breeding, their hormones, their scents, their bodies mixing until Price was ready to be bonded.

Simon was hilt deep when he finally sank his teeth into Price's gland. His omega draped over him, back to chest, strong body arched in submission. Simon cupped beneath a thigh, thrusting into him with a semi-inflated knot that was making his eyes roll in overwhelming bliss. He tilted his head away under the guidance of Simon's hand at his chin, and Simon finally claimed the object of his desire, knot swelling inside him and triggering an intense wave of pleasure that made Price's body seize up.

The wound stopped bleeding as Simon licked it. He remembered vaguely reading something about alpha's having a clotting agent in their saliva sparked by the process of mating. Price’s pained huffs faded into softer sighs, and Simon held him as his body adjusted to the sudden surge of hormones in his bloodstream. Simon slid his palm over Price’s belly and cupped beneath its slight swell.

“I know ‘m not your first choice,” Simon whispered in the quiet, his throat hoarse. “But…”

“Simon,” Price murmured, soft, wistful. “You're it. Jus’... always thought ya deserved better ‘an me.”

Simon's heart clenched in his chest, his nose burying in Price's hair. “Ain't nothin’ better ‘an you.”

“Got… bad taste in clothing and men, that bloody bally…”

“Olrigh’ boonie hat,” Simon chuckled, rocking his hips up a little in revenge. Price groaned, his body bearing down around Simon’s knot in a sudden throb of pleasure. “Heard bonded mating is a whole new level, but this… fuck, the noises you make.”

Price huffed softly. “Gettin’ a big head, Riley…”

“Naw, reckon I'm on the money, maybe I need t’ remind you again.” Simon slid a hand down Price's body to stroke his cock, rolling his hips slowly to grind his knot over Price's sweet spot, the stretch just the right side of too much. Price gasped, his back arching, and Simon clamped an arm around his chest to keep him still, giving him no choice but to endure the heated pleasure curling through his hips.

They had another day and a half to secure their bond before they had to return to work, and in that time, Simon would make sure Price never had a reason to dread his heat again.

#captain john price #simon ghost riley #ghostprice #ghostpriceweek #there is definitely a typo or two left #but i am outta time lads #i will scan back through tomorra

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mmani-e · 9 months ago

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Hello! After all this effort, behold:

DANGANRONPA DEMIX, THH EDITION!

Dr Demix 2

Finally got the talentswap designs I have for the THH characters one and done with! You can click through the read more section for some fun design insights. I'm intending on uploading a doc containing short lore bits about them eventually.

Kyoko Kirigiri - Ultimate Affluent Progeny

So Kyoko's design was both kinda simple, kinda not, wanted to give her a very fine and regal kinda attitude to her but not arrogant as that's very much Byakuya's thing. Her story is that she loves her dad more than the family business and her grandpa so she abandons detective work and just uses her brain to help her dad out.

Makoto Naegi - Ultimate Novelist

Makoto is a wonderful guy, just great all around. He loves writing children's books and happy stories. This is his main coping mechanism so he doesn't have to process any negative emotions he gets, the rest he can't process… well they go into a murderous psychopath alter.

Aoi Asahina - Ultimate Lucky Student

Shoujo protagonist Aoi. Cute, headstrong, affective, competitive, these are all the traits that make her fight for her friends and clash with Kyoko (and more often than not Byakuya) in the killing game, even when all hope seems lost… she pushes through, unafraid to let tears spill from her eyes for all those lost, but pushing all the same.

Byakuya Togami - Ultimate Detective

This one, I wanna go into more lore territory, cause I kinda memed around his last desc I gave him so here goes:

"A disgraced heir of the Togami household, Byakuya lost the competition that would've secured his riches. Disdainful and bitter, he sought out to get to the bottom of why he lost, uncovering a rabbit hole in the process. By the end, he proved his sibling a cheater, but it didn't matter because by the end as he found the sweet satisfaction of uncovering secrets and crushing liars and cheaters under the weight of their hubris far more satisfying than any inheritance."

Sayaka Maizono - Ultimate Spirit Medium

So Sayaka isn't a clairvoyant at all like Yasuhiro, in fact her entire skillset is completely different, first of all she is like an actual psychic, and I based her design off of the japanese Itako, quite loosely. Very interesting group, look it up, also she'll never use these powers in the killing game because I dunno how to even approach these rituals or what they look like or how to write them while remaining respectful, so she won't do it in a killing game for the express reason of her not having the right tools available and not wanting to disrespect her traditions.

Leon Kuwata - Ultimate Swimmer

I really wanna draw him again, all these characters again tbh, and I wanna show off the patterns on his wetsuit. It's a whole coral reef under there, that anemone and clownfish bit is only one part of a whole reef stretching his midline.

Sakura Ogami - Ultimate Programmer

Sakura has installed chips into her body to help optimize her body processes and also cause why not. As for the muscles, she's an Assembly programmer, the programs she's made can run on calculators she loves it.

Chihiro Fujisaki - Ultimate Martial Artist

Chihiro's design here with the two belts is an explicit nod to his preferred martial art - Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, so unlike Sakura in canon who'd be easy to imagine cracking someone's skull in half with a chop, Chihiro's approach is more crawling onto someone and bringing them down to the floor with grappling like an angry halfling monk. As for the belts themselves, on his head is his final junior belt, while around his waist is his current belt, he's not a black belt yet because he's still too young for it.

Celestia Ludenberg - Ultimate Baseball Star

Celestia actually isn't a legend in this AU, Taeko is. Celestia hates that and wants to start a baseball career going international, whatever the hell that means is up to her own definition, but she wants to be remembered forever as Celestia, not Taeko. Also extra sentence, but this is the SINGLE hardest design I've ever had to deal with here, I think in the future I'll be drawing all her little accessories and I have an alt costume for her I have in mind.

Hifumi Yamada - Ultimate Pop Star

So I changed Hifumi's story as I originally outlined in the OG post with him. He was friends with Aoi all his life, pretty much his only friend at all, and ever since he was little he had an obsession with writing songs, because he was obsessed with stuff like anime openings and was content to just keep the songs to himself. It wasn't till Aoi convinced him to share some of his songs that he started his journey to success, but bc he's not traditionally attractive, his first hits were literally just… his voice being played over other more attractive singers and it wasn't until very very recently that he even performed a song of his for the first time.

Toko Fukawa - Ultimate Fanfic Writer

So while Hifumi was clearly a Doujinshi but due to weird translation, ended up as fanfic creator, Touko is straight up a FF then Wattpad then AO3 girl, who would get obsessed with this really shitty, tripe manga that she didn't even like reading. It did however have super hot dudes in it, so she wrote good stories of those characters when she got frustrated with the actual authorial content - which was always.

Yasuhiro Hagakure - Ultimate Gambler

Quite LITERALLY the never stop gambling meme personified into a guy. He can lose 3 mil on slot machines but always comes out fine because it means if he keeps gambling he'll eventually run into his 1/3 and win giga millions, what he needs to pay off his debts. It isn't just with luck though either because his personality and lack of intelligence or understanding of most the rules of the games he plays means he'll never react the way he should when getting a good hand in poker or a bad draw in blackjack, so he wins those games almost always through just… stupidity.

Mukuro Ikusaba - Ultimate Biker

She's number 16 in her gang, and is easily the most loyal enforcer and taskman of the gang. She does anything she's told, to a grim and disciplined degree not typical for hooligan bike gangers, she doesn't really desire a seat as top dog of the gang though, after all she's got school to worry about, and her sister.

Mondo Owada - Ultimate Warlord

So his relationship and Kiyotaka's is gonna be interesting, because I don't want him to be exactly like Mukuro at all, who was just sort of an all-obsessed Yandere. It's more like he's always chafing under Taka, who is less than friendly with him in this AU, really the main way he even lets Taka boss him around is because he pays incredibly well and helps keep his gang members from devolving back into the unstructured, chaotic criminal life, the same that took his brother years ago.

Oh and yeah, he still looks like Guile, as he should.

Sparkling Justice - Ultimate Killer Killer

Yeah it's a reference to Killer Killer, sue me I love the manga. He has Hajirahara's ahoge, and I thought it'd be cute to also give him a mask just like the other Makoto from a Kodaka game series (Raincode.) Also, while Genocide jack stuffs all her scissors in her skirt, Makoto keeps a truth gun with "truth bullets" as his main weapon, the gun he stores inside the big book in the chibi of just Makoto, and the bullets kept on his person as the red buttons all over his body, which he pulls out when he needs to reload.

"Kiyotaka Ishimaru" - Ultimate Fashionista

Unlike Mukuro and Junko, Mondo absolutely cannot hide the fact that he acts nothing like Kiyotaka, though this is surprisingly fine to everyone else, because unlike Junko who plastered herself onto literally everything, Mondo always obfuscated himself from the public spotlight, at most showing only his suits while he hid his face behind something conveniently placed. Which played primarily to his vision of an ultimate fashionista, who was above everyone and catered to the rich and powerful.

Junko Enoshima - Ultimate Moral Compass

This was a fun one, I decided to let her have her red hair because I believe it to be the "natural" look of her hair, while attaching little clips of dyed hair to her buns as a replacement to keep her shape sorta and keep the strawberry blonde somwehere on her. Understand that while she is the "moral compass" she is still pretty deranged, and the only reason she focuses so much on keeping everyone on their best behavior is because it's endlessly entertaining to her to make her fellow moral committee members upset when she blatantly makes a mockery of the rules while still keeping kids on their best behavior to make a point.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru - Ultimate Fashionista and Tyrant, the Iron Hand of Despair

Taka's design I wanted to sort of focus on this sort of, holier-than-thou idea, where I wanted to make him look a lot fancier and upper-class than Junko does in his standard highschool fit compared to him. I wanted him to have an upper-crust sort of look

If you're reading this after reading this all, thanks! You're a wonderful person :) Signing off...

Mani

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headcanonenthusiast · 1 year ago

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Valeria Garza NSFW headcanons.

This was made with fem readers in mind.

Also quick note, I apologize in advance if this isn't as detailed as my headcanons on some other characters. It was definitely harder for me to come up w/ stuff for Val, especially bc girlie is nowhere near one of my favorites (I'm sorry 😔) but what better way to expand on writing then doing headcanons of characters you rarely think about? So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)

NSFW under the cut.

-THE brat tamer.

-Absolutely will not take your shit if you disobey her in any way, shape or form.

-"What did you just say to me? Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

-Gets this look of absolute disbelief on her face if you dare to act like a brat, then her eyes turn dark and she's suddenly dragging you to bed.

-"I'm the woman who decides whether or not you get to cum every night, querida. And if you're gonna keep acting like a fucking brat, then it looks like you won't get to cum for the rest of the week."

-Her favorite forms of punishment include anything to do with orgasms. Whether it be edging you, overstimulating you or even denying you the right to cum entirely, she loves making you squirm and beg to release.

-Shakes her head and clicks her tongue, as if you begging to cum is the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard after you've misbehaved.

-"Oh, so now you're sorry? Chica, a sorry isn't going to cut it. I warned you about acting like a little brat, but you didn't listen. You never fucking listen to me."

-Proceeds to lecture you and switch between degrading you in English and Spanish as she either forces a strap down your throat or harshly plays with your clit.

-"Perra estúpida. Never listening to me and then acting surprised when I don't let you cum."

-Will also partake in bondage, cuffing up your wrists to the headboard before she runs a vibrator painfully slow over your pussy.

-As rough as she is when it comes to sex, if you're genuinely feeling upset about something, her gaze will turn more sympathetic (which she refuses to show to anyone besides you.)

-"What? What's wrong, amor?"

-And you're welcome to tell her about all of your troubles while she gently eats you out.

-Probably has multiple straps. Prefers buying the thickest one possible but she does have one that's much longer for when you really piss her off.

-Is very willing to spoil you with new sex toys and lingerie. Anything to make her pretty girl happy.

-Also, I feel like she'd switch between wanting to see you touch yourself and not letting you at all.

-When she's not there with you, she probably encourages you to masterbate and send her tons of videos of you doing so.

-But, if she's actually there and catches you touching yourself, it won't be pretty.

-"Oh, can I not satisfy you enough anymore? Is that it?"

-Then she fingers you so well your legs are shaking as she rants.

-"Look at you, cumming just from my fingers. What a slut."

-"And you really thought you could make yourself cum the same way I do? No, no, estás loca por pensar eso, querida."

-She wants anything sexual to be completely dependent on either her or toys she picks out for you.

-In other words, very dominant.

-In other other words, if you ever asked or God forbid tried to make her submit, you're a dead woman.

-"Thats it. You're getting too fucking bratty for your own good. Get over my Goddamn lap right now if you know what's good for you."

-And when you are on her lap, she'll switch between spanking your ass and spanking your pussy.

-Leaves hickeys on the most visible spots on purpose.

-Smirks when you get all shy about it, gently brushing your hair away as she chuckles.

-"Don't worry, amor. I won't make the marks too visible."

-But then she does, so she buys you the prettiest necklace with her name engraved on it as an apology, and another reminder of who you belong you.

-Some translations for the Spanish stuff, chica = girl, querida = darling, perra estúpida = stupid bitch, amor = love and "no, no, estás loca por pensar eso, querida" = no, no, you're crazy for thinking that, darling.

(Also I apologize if anything in Spanish is incorrect, online translators can only get you so far 😕)

Look at me go, writing about a character I don't even like and am not even attracted to because I'm straighter than a wooden ruler 🙃

This was honestly fun to write though! Valeria takes up like 0% of my thinking space, so coming up w/ headcanons for her when I barely remember she exists nor am attracted to her at all was a bit more challenging. Hoping y'all enjoyed this!

Rudy NSFW headcanons r coming up next, so be sure to lookout for those in the near future 🤭

#valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza cod #valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria call of duty #valeria garza x you #valeria x reader #valeria mw2 #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #valeria headcanons #headcanon #nsfw.#i'm a disappointment to my parents

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cobaltperun · 2 months ago

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Darkest Part (2) - Narcissistic Cannibal

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / Previous Part / Next Part

Word count: 3.9k

-And you're so cynical, narcissistic cannibal-

Of all the ridiculously asinine things that could have ever happened to you, of all the ways your day, no, forget day, your entire week could go wrong, it just had to be related to the one person you despised. And it was such a nice day as well, sunny, warm, but not hot, pleasant breeze, perfect for doing anything you wanted, but no, no, you just had to spend it with her.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this with you,” the chihuahua said through gritted teeth. Even like that her voice just got on your nerves, all soft and tender and pleasant to the ear. If only it didn’t belong to someone like her.

“I’d agree with you, but that would just make me sick,” you spat, packing the promotional material that would be used for Delia’s day long art workshop at Astrid’s high school. Perks of donating a whole damn building to the school!

Astrid glared at you as she wrapped the figures Delia was going to bring along. It was Delia’s brilliant idea, to basically force her granddaughter to help through her and Lydia’s influence over the principal. And you had to admit, she hated being here for more than one reason. Which made you feel a bit better, because you hated being here for only one reason, that reason being the girl on the other side of the room. So, by some ridiculous logic you had it better, since you had fewer reasons to hate being here. “Wouldn’t that make my day,” she said under her breath, without a hint of remorse.

“Right back at you,” you didn’t even try to whisper it, no, you made it clear you heard her and wished the same thing upon her.

“Being sick would make your day? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” she actually smirked at you as you blinked, rewinding the last exchange and closing your eyes.

Fuck!

“I didn’t- that’s not- ah, fuck this,” you cursed, giving up arguing about this. She was so freakishly smart you figured you’d just be wasting your breath arguing about it.

Astrid had that ridiculous, satisfied grin on her damn face and you just, you just threw your hands up in the air. She got you there. And you hated the feeling, you hated it so much you nearly got into an argument with her just for the sake of your pride. Only to remember she’d likely throw an entire thesaurus at you and confuse you because that was just what she did!

Somehow you figured it was worth it.

You firmly believed there were some things that were just plain and simply true, and one of those things was that you and Astrid Deetz could never, under any circumstances, peacefully coexist. Everything between you was too volatile, too prone to explosive arguments or constant negativity.

Right at that moment the door opened, preventing you from restarting the argument, and Delia bounced in, all pumped and happy, and almost too pleased. Those rarely ended well for you if you were being honest. “Astrid! How nice to see you came to help me!” oh, this woman was either the most oblivious, self-centered woman you’ve ever met, or she just loved pushing everyone’s buttons. You’ve been working for her for some time now, and that was still the unsolvable mystery.

“You could have at least spared me from working with her, but no, it’s not enough that I have to be here,” Astrid complained with a deep scowl on her face, the previous satisfaction long forgotten. She didn’t even pause packing the figures to greet the woman.

“We apologize, your majesty, for keeping you away from your important business,” you mocked, only to be met with a fierce glare. Astrid most definitely glared at you, a lot, but never like this, never with this much intensity and anger.

She opened her mouth and then very obviously changed her mind, dropping her gaze and focusing on the task in front of her. “Not like you’d care,” she muttered under her breath. “Either of you.”

Delia, who was getting her mug, clearly heard that. “There’s a climate change conference coming up in a few months and Astrid here is heavily involved in preparations, some of which happen to be today,” you abruptly turned when Delia said that and then turned toward Astrid, who now had an even deeper scowl on her face.

You frowned, perhaps for the first time properly looking at the girl. You very passionately hated her, so you rarely took notice of the little details, but you could see her lower lip, slightly swollen from chewing on it, probably since she was so frustrated and angry. You saw some blisters on her palms, and the way she winced, they were probably caused by the tree planting you attended a few days ago. You hated her, but you didn’t hate her that much. “Go bark orders at someone else chihuahua, I’ll wrap this up,” you still didn’t have it in you to openly tell her to go and do what she cares about.

She froze, looking at you with unconcealed mistrust and disbelief, as if you just grew a couple of heads on your back and torso. That’s how bizarre you were in her eyes right now. She studied you, not saying a word, or even moving. How could she be so still?! It was unsettling! And her gaze was way too intense! “Tch, barnacle,” she scoffed but still grabbed her things and rushed outside.

“Forget chihuahua, she’s a whole damn zoo…” you could feel your eye was twitching as you watched the closed door. Were you expecting a thank you? No, not really. This was Astrid Deetz after all. You still expected something more decent than an insult!

“You do know this is a job for two people and that now you’ll be working overtime, right?” Delia asked as if she was asking about the weather, and not if you knew you were in for a long day. And you knew, of course you fucking knew.

You just, well you were passionate about climate change as well, and even you could tell Astrid cared about it. It was for the greater good! Nothing else. “I’ll get it done,” you sighed, doubling your efforts to at least try and get it done in reasonable time.

“Hugging trees won’t do much though,” Delia commented as she finished making her coffee, more to herself, than to you. “The sooner she focuses of something else, the better for her,” that was something you noticed about Delia. She was fairly supportive of green architecture, figuring it was a good thing to be interested in, blending the good intentions and profitable career together. She disagreed with Astrid’s approach, strongly believing that if Astrid didn’t come from a rich family, she wouldn’t be able to be so idealistic about her activism.

You closed the box and carried it to the side before grabbing a sticker and writing ‘promo material’ on it. “She’s a chihuahua,” you slapped the sticker onto the box and said, just like you did when Delia first told you her opinion on Astrid’s climate change activism.

Delia laughed, long, loud and genuine laughter filled the room as she sat at her laptop. “Or you could just for once admit that you have a tiny soft spot for my granddaughter and firmly believe that she is so stubborn she would still be doing this even if she wasn’t rich enough to not work a day in her life and had to life off of tree hugging salary,” she spoke complete and utter nonsense. The most ridiculous, outrageous, misinterpretation of your words.

“Bullshit, respectfully, bullshit,” you denied it, having no idea how anyone could see anything but hatred between you and that chihuahua. Tiny soft spot? Ridiculous! The only soft spot you had for anything related to Astrid was reserved for her mother who had the misfortune of having Astrid for daughter.

Nothing else!

Not now!

Not ever!

~X~

You were hunched over a small empty table in the library, shading your latest drawing with utmost focus. It was a detailed drawing of the Colosseum, and it was a fairly good drawing if you could say so yourself. Summer vacation would soon end, and you that meant one thing! You would soon be free from the chihuahua! Hopefully by the time she comes back or comes to visit her grandparents you’d be gone, never to see her again!

“Oh, I’m going to celebrate when she leaves,” you actually giggled, you felt giddy at the mere thought of never seeing Astrid Deetz again.

“You sound like you won the lottery,” Alex sighed, genuinely puzzled by your excitement over Astrid leaving. You, on the other hand, disagreed with him, you didn’t sound like you won the lottery, you were fairly sure you if someone offered winning the lottery and never seeing the damn chihuahua again you’d take never seeing her again.

A dumb choice, backed merely by the reasoning that no one would ever make you choose between the two, but still, that’s why you could so casually say it.

Alex though. He was blind. Blinded by her… something you wouldn’t even dare to think about.

“I’m not blinded by her beauty, by the way,” he pointed out, as if reading your thoughts, and you, as startled as you were, flinched, your hand pressing down, causing you to pierce the paper with your pencil and tear through it. “Shit, I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” Alex quickly apologized when he noticed the drawing was ruined.

You watched the torn paper for a few seconds, mind completely blank, as if you couldn’t properly process what happened to hours of work in mere seconds. “I was just practicing anyway,” you sighed, tossing the drawing into the trach can before patting your guilt-stricken friend on the back. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll just take a ten-minute break to stretch a bit.”

“Sure,” but he still looked at the drawing on top of the trash.

You knew you’d need to cheer him up, but first you really needed to go into the storage and stretch a bit, you’ve been sitting for hours. The storage room was big, as every library storage room should be, you kept spare copies, some books that were more difficult to come by, and things like that there, and there was still plenty of space to just stretch a bit, do a couple of exercises and walk, just to get the blood pumping. So, you did just that, bouncing lightly on your feet followed by a couple of basic stretching exercises.

“There, that feels better,” you muttered to yourself, feeling the tension in your muscles somewhat fading.

When you came back you saw her… the one indirectly responsible for the mistake you made. Standing here, talking to Alex, all angry? At Alex? Since when did that happen?

“She’s so…” Astrid seemed to be trembling with rage as she glared at some piece of paper in her hand. You doubted she got that enraged at anyone but you.

“I’m so what?” you walked back out and she looked back, about as startled as you were when Alex basically called her beautiful. Her cheeks turned red from the anger, and she shoved the paper into her bag.

“Vexatious!” she actually yelled and stormed out of the library.

“Another word to Google?” Alex snickered like the troublemaker he was. Whatever happened while you were on a break lifted his spirits and it looked like he was no longer grieving over your drawing.

You sat down and glared, you wanted to know what he did or said to cause that kind of reaction, but you would rather be locked in a room with that chihuahua than ask him. You still Googled the stupid word Astrid threw at you. “Tch,” you cold feel your eye twitching; she just called you annoying.

~X~

Annoying. Pain in her ass. The most frustrating person she ever met. The only person in the world that infuriated her more than her own mother, and a year ago she would have thought that was impossible!

And, as much as she despised admitting, a damn good artist.

Astrid stared at the slightly torn drawing, hating herself for noticing it. She went to throw her coffee cup into the can, and there it was. A detailed, drawn entirely by pencil and perfectly shaded, drawing of the Colosseum, just lying there. She was drawn to it, drawn to the precise lines, the chosen perspective gave the historical building a larger than life feel to it, and the lighting only enhanced that feeling.

She wanted to see more of them. More of the works whoever drew this made. She wanted to talk to them, find out what inspired them to draw this.

And then Alex made her desires shrivel up and die.

It was you.

Of course it was you.

"Barnacle," she muttered, now cursing you for ruining something like this with a moment of carelessness. Astrid leaned back on her chair, for a moment glancing at the framed photo of her and her dad, her most treasured possession. She looked so happy back then, they had so many plans, yet they never got the chance. He would have told her to do as her heart demands, and she hated what her heart was demanding right now. She carefully flipped the drawing and taped it together, making sure the tear wasn't visible.

You just... annoyed her so much she couldn't stand it.

~X~

When you came to work at the library tomorrow you saw your drawing on the table. Fixed.

"What the?" you looked at Alex, confused, hoping maybe he had an explanation.

"Your chihuahua," was all he said, and you just stared blankly at the fixed drawing. "And she knew it was yours, by the way," Alex had a shit eating grin on his face as your trembling fingers picked up the drawing.

Why couldn't your fingers stop trembling?

She just... she fixed it. You could see how much care she put into lining the paper up, making sure the tear was as concealed as possible. "What the fuck? The fuck did she do this for?" you asked, bewildered by her decision to do this knowing the drawing belonged to you. Hell, if anyone asked you ten minutes ago you would have willing to bet anything on her actually tearing it apart.

Okay, maybe that was harsh of you. But you were certain she wouldn't care about it, wouldn't even spare a glance. Yet she fixed it! "I need to thank her," the words you spoke felt foreign, your throat dry, it all felt surreal.

Alex had this look in his eyes, like he was sorry for something. "Tough luck buddy, she went back to school, she's gone."

Fuck! Where were cliche tropes of catching someone just before they leave when you needed them the most?!

~X~

Months passed since that day, since Astrid left for another year at her private boarding school. Your life returned to the way it was before you met her, same old routine, two jobs, art classes, taking care of your mother. You still didn’t dare to go to college, to take the chance without any safety net. You were nervous, worried that you weren’t good enough, that you’d try, end up being disappointed and you just couldn’t risk it. Not yet.

You’ve been working overtime due to Delia’s newest idea, the human canvas, honestly you were looking forward to resting, since Delia promised a whole week off after everything was finished. After all, you did hell of a job with the logistics and promotion and all the technical stuff.

Delia was currently standing half a dozen feet away from you, getting ready for the next performance when her phone rang. Nothing new there, you were used to it and mostly tuned her out as she spoke on the phone.

“What?!” she screamed making you jump and turn to her, startled. It sounded like someone just published a harsh criticism of her work, but a single look at her face going as white as a sheet made it clear it was much, much worse. “No,” she swayed on her feet and you quickly set the pen you’ve been holding down and caught her just as she lost her balance and crumbled into your arms.

“Shit!” you failed to properly catch her and couldn’t get a firm grip on her, forcing you to lower her down to the floor and hold her up like that.

"Charles!" Delia screamed, loud, heartbroken, shattered by the news, and you didn't need confirmation to know what had happened. She dropped her phone and you just barely managed to catch it as she grabbed onto your shoulder and cried, her manicured nails digging through your shirt and making you wince as she bawled.

You let her hold onto you, silent as she cried, screaming for her husband and staining your shirt with tears and mascara. You didn’t know Charles all that well, having mostly worked with Delia, but you were sorry he was gone.

“He left me!” she shouted and you froze, looking down at the woman that was still crying.

“Left? Like a divorce?” you asked, now not quite sure if you got things mixed up. Wouldn’t be the first time it happened with Delia.

Delia stopped crying and pulled away from you. “That would be even worse! No, he’s dead, got killed by a shark,” she said it so casually.

“That would be even worse?” you couldn’t help it, you repeated her sentence, baffled as she screamed her late husband’s name once more. Him leaving would have been even worse? How? You just sighed, not even trying to wrap your head around this, seeing as thinking about it for too long might cause you to come to certain conclusions.

“Get ready, Y/N, we’re going to Winter River, we’ll be there for a few weeks!” Delia abruptly decided and you whipped your head in her direction.

“WHAT?!” surely she didn’t just ask that of you. You had another job here! A mother that needed to be taken care of!

Somehow she considerably calmed down, and much quicker than you anticipated. “You won’t leave a grieving widow to manage all of that herself, right?” oh, oh she was great at this emotional manipulation, and you were falling for it like a sucker. You went to speak, to reject this. You were her assistant for her art projects, not for funeral arrangements, especially if it meant leaving behind everything else for weeks to do it.

But she did just lose her husband… and she wasn’t a bad boss, just kind of self-centered most of the time. “One week, not a day more,” you offered, firm, unmoving, standing your ground. “Mom needs me,” you said before she could counter and demand more from you.

Delia thought it over and then, miraculously, nodded. “Good enough,” that actually surprised you and you watched her as she took her phone, likely to contact Lydia. “Go get days off, we’re leaving today.”

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded, already thinking of ways to get days off on an extremely short notice. And then a single thought popped into your head. You’d have to spend a week not only with Delia and Lydia, but Rory and Astrid as well!

“Fuck!” you cursed as you stepped outside, already dreading the upcoming disaster of a week ahead of you. As if Astrid wasn’t enough now you had to deal with Lydia’s manipulative boyfriend and all you could really hope for at this point was that you could ignore them.

~X~

The drive to Astrid’s high school was less of a torture than you anticipated. Rory mostly ignored you, like he usually did, and somehow he wasn’t a complete insufferable asshole. He was uncharacteristically silent, well, other than the bit about losing his grandfather 40 years ago. That was… classic Rory actually.

What you weren’t prepared for was Delia deciding to tell Astrid the news herself, when the grumpy chihuahua refused to answer Lydia’s calls. You watched from the back seat, horrified when Delia walked up, not to the front door, but to the side of the building where you guessed Astrid’s room was.

“Astrid!” your eyes widened, and you actually couldn’t believe what was going on as Delia screamed Astrid’s name at the top of her lungs.

“Oh, no,” Lydia whispered, shaking her head in disbelief as she watched the disaster unfold.

“Stop torturing your mother!” Delia yelled and you actually felt sorry for Astrid, you felt a real, genuine, empathy for the girl because the scene unfolding in front of your eyes was downright humiliating. Astrid looking down at Delia from her window while dozens of students looked on either from their own windows or from where they were in the front yard of the dormitory.

“Your mommy lost her daddy! You lost your grandpa! And I lost my…” Delia paused and you bit your tongue, hoping, despite knowing the woman, that she would just say her husband or something. “…horny handyman, Charles.”

No…

No!

She did not just say it like that!

“I’m so sorry chihuahua,” you whispered under your breath, just quiet enough for it not to be heard by anyone as Delia screamed Charles’ name once more.

~X~

Ten minutes later you were with Rory in the car as Lydia went to join Delia and Astrid outside and you found yourself looking at the girl. There she was, the menace. The bane of your existence. The very girl you despised more than anyone else in the world and who despised you just as much. Truly you were forced to admit that such mutual hatred was hard to come by. And here you thought her fixing your drawing would make those feelings fade a bit, but now that you were looking at her again you figured you were wrong.

You still despised the girl, and the random act of kindness did little to change that.

“There she is, the morbid freak,” Rory muttered under his breath. He definitely didn’t like Astrid, being the manipulator that was taking advantage of Lydia and knowing Astrid saw right through him must have infuriated him.

“Shut it,” you punched the back of his seat with enough force to make him wince and turn to look at you.

That sick, manipulative smile on his face was back. “Come on, Y/N, you hate her, don’t go complaining about me saying what you think,” he tried to appeal to you, to get you to agree with him just to get that sense of power and control. Your feelings for the youngest Deetz were your own, non-reliant on the way other people viewed her. You had personal reasons for disliking Astrid, and you had no desire to fuel his narcissistic tendencies. Not to mention, as much as you disliked Astrid there was something about his word choice that you couldn’t get behind.

And agreeing with Rory and giving him what he wanted would just make you feel sick, so that was yet another reason not to agree. “Only I get to insult that chihuahua, also, she is not a morbid freak,” you paused. “Okay, just freak. She is not a freak. She is morbid, but not a freak,” you corrected as you glared at the man. You might actually hate him more than you hated Astrid, and that was hell of an accomplishment.

Taglist: @alexkolax @osnapitzmel1 @bee-keeping @nebthetautora @lololauser

@nwestra @rroyale-109 @gemz5 @social-pomegranate @mirage018

@the-thing-withfeathers @hello-mtf @leafanonsforest

Masterlist / Previous Part / Next Part

#astrid deetz x female reader #astrid deetz x reader #astrid deetz #beetlejuice beetlejuice #x reader #x female reader #jenna ortega x reader

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a-moth-called-mof · 2 months ago

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No actually I'm going to say. I honestly think that was such a satisfying and fitting epilogue for something as unqiue as the dream smp. Maybe its vague about certain things and maybe it wasn't a picture perfect happy ending but it felt so satisfying, not just because of the original shit nuke ending and the way the server originally just slowly faded (although that contributes) but also, because it's a representation of the dream smp itself saying goodbye to its fans. Jack being the point of the view character is so fitting because he's been there since the early days and it makes it so that for once, we get to see C! Tommy from someone else's point of view without his own perspective offered. And that's so fucking impactful. When C! Tommy asked Jack where he'd been and that he hadn't seen him in a long time, he was talking to C! Jack sure but he was also talking to the viewers themselves by extension. The image of C! Tommy silently standing there and treating Jack, the point of view character of the viewers, like an old friend is so haunting and comforting in a way words can't express.

And then there's just the entire theme of grief and moving on that's present throughout the entire thing? C! Jack and Tommy both reminisce about how much the SMP impacted both of them. They look on at C! TECHNO'S HOUSE as they talk about how despite all the shit it put them through, a part of them misses it and longs to be back there again because there were things there that were fun and that meant something to them. It's so fitting on a metatextual levels. The characters are reminiscing about the SMP's old days "before everyone left" and so are the content creators through the characters but also, so is the audience. The viewers. The old fans who clung on. The fans who who didn't. The fans who, despite everything the server put them through, still wanted to tune into a livestream for even a chance of seeing it again.

I just feel like the stream represented so many of us. When C! Jack says he didn't like the person he was back then but that doesnt mean he was bad, I just feel like that encapsulates so many of us during the pandemic. Like many (I think?), I used the dream smp as escapism. I was in a really bad place and I was avoiding most of my irl friends. I hate who I became during those times. But also. I had so much fun. I would tune into streams every day and scroll tumblr and the fandom made me feel so happy and included and I loved the inside jokes and I loved the characters and I loved the streams and I loved everything and a part of me still misses that. I was avoiding everything in my life and I was so isolated but I was so full of excitement and bliss and fun when I would tune into those streams. I've kinda spent the past 2 years lowkey hating who I was. But this stream, C! Jack's line and reflection specifically, genuinely made me realise that maybe I shouldn't idk view my old self so negative and that he (who I was) was probably just trying his best during a tough time even if his choices weren't always the most functional. That I've improved and that that's okay and good even. And that maybe just because I like who I am now doesn't mean he was bad.

Idk there's also something about C! Tommy telling C! Jack he might never see him again and C! Jack telling him that that's okay (also again image of C! Tommy looking at the viewer's point of view and telling them he'll probably never see them again...). There's just something about growing up and how you kind of lose contact with some people and how that's normal and it's okay and it happens and how that ties back into some of the dream smp's themes about growing up. But also there's a bit of grief there and that's okay. Idk there's something so visceral about the last piece of media about the dream smp literally being about grief and moving on and about how the characters literally say goodbye to eachother after everything but also about how that's okay. Idk I wonder how many people feel similarly

To conclude this, I feel like the moment in the stream that hit me the most was CC! Jack being happy he let go of the manishroom (and the server by extension) and that he's moving on but then later saying "I didn't like letting go of the mushroom. Felt like I wanted to cling onto it forever" and something about that just hits. Idk there's something how the characters both feel such a unique pain and longing for the old times in universe and how that reflects how the audience and streamers themselves feel and there's something about how I genuinely don't think something that wasn't as accidental and beautiful and messy and painful and earnest and flawed and unique as the dream smp could ever capture that feeling. And I think I love it for that. And I think I love the epilogue for representing that. And I think the dream smp said I love you and goodbye to its viewers with that epilogue and I think I said it back.

#SORRY I GOT PRETENTIOUS NEAR THE END JUST GAHHHHHH FEELINGS. indulge me #dream smp #dsmp #tommyinnit #jack manifold #mcyt #dsmplr #mcytblr #analysis #??#meta #????????#well yeah idk metatextual analysis of the text. or. stream. kinda #mof speaks

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cinnamonest · 11 months ago

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Genshin x Reader - Silent Treatment

Okay so this was for an anon a while back that requested Childe + silent treatment, so 1) I got carried away and wrote the same prompt for several others, and 2) I lost the original screenshot of the ask I was going to post this with, sorry anon, but I have the content for it at least :’)

(includes: Childe, Xiao, Albedo, Heizou, Cyno, Kaveh, Kazuha, Xingqiu)

//this is mostly very lighthearted but there's still implications of yandere content. Some mild pain, Childe’s contains very mild nsfw, there might be indicators of fem reader somewhere in here, Kazuha’s and Xingqiu's are a little darker so both of those are at the bottom

Childe

“Hey.”

The second time he said it, he waved his arm to catch your attention, as if under the impression you somehow didn't hear him, despite being trapped to the confines of the same small room.

One little bedroom, far too small at that, a temporary lodging whilst on the ship’s return voyage home. Four days, which you were about halfway through at this point.

You were thoroughly convinced it was some sort of trial imposed upon you by a higher power. The sort of grueling test of perseverance so common in tales of legendary heroes, through which they'd become stronger, or reach some well-earned reward for their virtue.

Unfortunately, you had a feeling no such reward awaited you.

“Hey…”

The third time, it was more like a whine, he slouched over in the chair on the other side of the room before, after another moment of pause, setting aside whatever oh-so-important paper he was reading (those identically-masked soldiers were always handing off important things he was supposed to sign, but he never looked over them for more than a few minutes), and walked over to where you sat, needle in hand, mending his clothes after he got them torn for the umpteenth time, no doubt doing something completely unnecessary, after very specifically requesting he be more careful, and— well, it was one of many reasons why you were so very irritated.

He waved his hand directly in front of your face. “You spaced out or something?”

You clenched your jaw, exhaling a huff of frustration through your nostrils before jerking your head away, returning to your work.

He bent his knees slightly, crouching down to get at eye level with you, but you kept your gaze fixed, refusing to make eye contact.

Even though you kept your gaze to the task in your hands, he was still directly in front of you, and thus you could still see his face go through the stages of reaction. First a slack-jawed confusion, then eyes widening with realization, and then — much to your dismay — you saw the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sly, eager grin.

“Are you ignoring me?”

You gritted your teeth, eyebrows furrowed, poking the needle through one side of the cloth before reaching around to pull it through, making sure the action was harshly done and thus conveyed your frustration.

Which was, predictably, taken as a confirmation.

“Awww. That's so mean.”

His tone was obnoxiously gleeful, playful even — you were hoping for a negative response, not whatever this was. You tried to conceal any reaction yourself, knowing he'd only be satisfied if your irritation showed on your face.

“But, you picked a really bad person to try that with, you know. I'm pretty good at being annoying if I want to.”

The immediate retort that came to mind — that he could be very annoying even when he wasn't trying — took all your willpower to refrain from speaking aloud. You grinded your teeth.

“Hmm…”

You didn't like that sound. He was contemplating something, that couldn't be good for you.

His hand latched onto your wrist, forcing your work to a halt — at least he had the decency and forethought to specifically grasp the needle before yanking the whole thing away from you, setting it on the bedside table. Likely messing up your handiwork, you thought with ever increasing frustration.

Before you could move away, the mattress shifted and bounced with the sudden added weight as he moved onto it behind you, grabbing you by your arms, pulling you back against him. His arms wrapped around your body, firmly pinning your own arms to your sides. He then rested his chin on your shoulder — you could feel the smile on his face as the side of his face brushed against your neck.

Ah. So that was the tactic. The message, unspoken as it was, was clear — he had no intention of letting you move until you spoke to him.

You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes, refusing to give in.

A minute or so passed that way, likely testing your reaction, waiting to see if you'd give in so easily. The unfortunate thought occurred to you that he would probably be disappointed if that alone worked, that he probably wanted you to make it more difficult, and was likely enjoying the challenge. Perhaps you should have put a bit more thought into the plan, but it was too late now.

Your body stiffened as his hands met your bare skin — one reaching up your shirt, the other maneuvering underneath the waistband around your hips, groping at the sensitive flesh beneath. Your jaw clenched, and your hands balled into fists, the discomfort no doubt evident on your face, but you maintained your silence.

“Oh, wow. You're pretty dedicated to this, huh.”

You hated the fact that he sounded amused, more or less a confirmation that he was in fact enjoying this. Dammit.

You bit your lip, trying to focus on looking around the room — not that there was anything to really look at — and not the sensation, nor your increasing desire to give it up for the sake of strangling him. He continued the discomforting motions for another few moments, but soon gave up, slouching forward against you and returning to holding you still in his arms.

…And then, nothing. At least, for a moment. Only his arms wrapped around you, and the quiet, only dispelled by the low sounds of the ocean outside.

And then—

You squealed, lurching forward as a sharp pain shot through your shoulder. Your back arched and you jolted as you tried to squirm, only held back from doing so by the iron grip holding you in place.

You tried to turn your torso around, struggling against the grip, sputtering in near disbelief as you attempted to speak, voice quickly going shrill.

“You—you just— did you just bite me?!”

Rather than give any response, he merely pulled you to lean to your other side, bringing his mouth up to your opposite jugular, taking a dramatically deep breath, no doubt just to elicit a reaction.

And admittedly, it worked. “No no no, don’t you dare—eek!”

You squealed again as his teeth sank into your flesh once more, keeping a firm biting grip for just a second before releasing you again.

You began to squirm, trying to pull yourself away. “That— the hell? I was already talking to you, you little…!”

“Mhm. I know.” He pulled you back effortlessly despite your efforts to pull away, resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling the side of his face to yours. “I just wanted you to make that noise again.”

A low, grumbling noise of irritation came out of your throat. You finally went limp, resigning yourself to your defeat.

“Fine!” You sighed. “What is it?”

He paused.

“…Eh?”

You could hear the confusion in his voice. You sighed.

“You were trying to get my attention, remember? What were you going to tell me?”

“Oh. Uh…”

There was another pause. A few seconds of quiet passed before he finished—

“I actually don’t remember now.”

You closed your eyes and let your head fall forward, saying a small prayer to the gods that this ship sank and took you with it.

Xiao

“I'm going to get food for you. Do you have anything particular you want?”

With those words breaking the silence, you now had your chance to carry out the intended act of spite you’d spent the last hour planning in your head. It had been quiet for some time, making it a bit difficult to exercise said plan. Your captor was perfectly content with silence itself, which meant that this was, perhaps, not the best tactical approach, but you didn’t exactly have many tools of conflict at your disposal, so this expression of resentment would have to do.

Clenching your jaw, you exhaled in a frustrated huff, turning onto your side to face away from him. After a few moments of pause, he spoke again, seeming to not understand your lack of response.

“…I was asking you a question. I need to know what to bring back.”

Still, you didn’t reply.

You heard him shuffle over to you, feet brushing against the cold stone floor, before you felt his hand grasp your shoulder through the blanket, giving you a light shake.

“What do you want? You need to tell me.”

“…”

A few more seconds of silence passed. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the staring on your back as he seemed to slowly piece together the significance of your current behavior.

“…You are doing this on purpose.”

He gave his conclusion as if it needed to be said aloud, apparently less immediately obvious to him than it was to you. After a few more seconds, in a similar tone, he drew another conclusion.

“You’re upset.”

If not for your current effort of silence, you would have made some snarky comment about his brilliant deduction skills.

But you said nothing. Your eyebrows furrowed. Part of you did want to lash out, to express your irritation verbally, but you forced yourself to stay silent. More seconds of silence passed by.

Taking your lack of reply itself as confirmation, his next words took on a tone of increasing frustration.

“This is pointless. What do you accomplish by ignoring me?”

“…”

“You will die without food.”

“…”

“…Stop that.”

“…”

A minute of silence passed. The adeptus was seemingly uncertain of how to proceed, perhaps confused to your whole purpose with the effort of silence.

And then, you jolted at a sudden sharp pain as the cartilage of your ear was grasped and subsequently twisted.

“Ow ow ow!!” You bolted upright, jerking your head out of his grasp, clasping a hand over the now-sore ear as the momentary pain began to ebb away.

You glared, narrowing your eyes. “Was that necessary?”

He folded his arms, an equal look of displeasure on his features, and with a deadpan voice, replied—

“Yes.”

You waited for anything further he had to say, but it seemed that was all he had to say. You sighed, slouching over.

“…I dunno. Just get me whatever’s easiest for them to make.”

He folded his arms.

“Why didn't you just say that then?”

You merely shrugged, not having the energy nor the desire to explain any concepts of human social phenomena — a process that was always frustrating and time-consuming — on this day in particular.

After a few moments of pause as he looked to the ground, he looked up at you again, eyebrows furrowing.

“…Don't do that again.”

You nodded, exasperated, and closed your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I won't.”

You opened your eyes, turning your head to look at him, only to be met with an empty room, only the faintest trace of color, like a flickering light before it faded.

And thus, you sighed, laying back down in bed, resolving to try and conjure up a new tactic.

Albedo

“Hey, do you mind turning that light off?”

It was the first time he had spoken to you since your earlier fight. Well, perhaps ‘fight’ was not the best descriptor — it was more like you getting upset over something trivial and whining, only to get increasingly upset when he gave only his typical dry, snarky replies, ultimately ending with you turning your back to him — but nonetheless. It seemed he thought that enough time had passed that you would be over your petty anger.

He would find that assumption to be incorrect, and as childish as it was, you felt some satisfaction by remaining silent from where you sat upright in bed. You rested your head against your hand, turning your gaze out the window.

“Hey, ___,” he said your name again, trying to gain your attention. “The light, next to you.”

Still, you didn’t reply, this time closing your eyes as if to block him out, this time turning your body away from him and towards the window instead.

“…Ah. I see.”

You waited for him to continue, to press you about why you were upset so you could resume your earlier ranting.

But then, there was only silence.

You waited another moment. And another. And another.

But he didn't say anything further.

After a minute or so had passed, you slowly turned your head, confused by the lack of the reaction you had desired.

Seeing you turn in his peripheral vision, his motions of whatever he was working with paused as he turned his gaze towards you, tilting his head. “Mm?”

The bastard had the audacity to smirk at you. You glared, jerking back to turn away from him again.

…And more time passed. You waited. Minutes turned into an hour. And then another. You picked up a provided book to read after the boredom became unbearable, deciding that as long as you still gave him a cold shoulder, he'd still get the message.

…And even more time passed. A third hour. The sun fell and set and it grew dark, moonlight — and the light you'd still neglected to turn off — illuminating the room.

And then, finally, around three and a half hours after your initial interaction, after you were already lying down for the night, you heard the distinct sound you'd come to recognize as him putting the various tools away into a drawer. Then footsteps that pattered around the room, putting a few other things back into their proper places, the rustling of clothes being removed, and finally, the footsteps came close.

The mattress shifted and creaked as he climbed into bed next to you — finally turning off the lamp as he'd requested. He leaned over you, turning the blinds shut, and then, laid down in bed.

…And then there was only quiet.

The irritation swelling in your chest finally boiled over. You bolted upright.

“…Ugh! You— you…!”

“Oh, and here I was worried you were developing a throat cold.”

The dry-humored reply only served to infuriate you further.

“Why didn't you say anything?”

He didn't bother sitting upright himself. You could make out his form, but perhaps it was a good thing you couldn't see his face, as it was certain either a smug or unbothered expression that would only anger you further.

“My patience exceeds yours. It was just a matter of waiting.”

Your fists clenched so hard your hands trembled. You opened your mouth, but before you could give a spiteful reply, the sheets shifted as he sat up alongside you. His arm reached out, wrapping around your waist, and firmly pulled you back down to lie side-by-side.

He took a deep breath in, a heavy sigh out. “I'm pretty tired now, though. I understand you have some complaint to make, but I’d prefer you save it until tomorrow. Is that alright?”

Your eye twitched. You crossed your arms, turning your back to him.

“Jerk.”

“Mhm.” His arm reached over and pulled you close, your back pressed to his chest. “Goodnight.”

You huffed, pouting, but nonetheless—

“…Goodnight.”

Heizou

“Hey, so, I noticed there’s no food made or anything… it’s fine if you’re tired,” he raised his voice just enough as was appropriate for speaking to someone from the next room over. “I can go pick something up.”

The ever-upbeat tone to his voice only irked you further. Normally, you would have had food made yourself by the time he’d been home — now he’d been back for half an hour, and had finally walked into the kitchen to grab something, seeming to notice your act of protest. You’d been hoping he would immediately suspect something was wrong, but of course, he was too optimistic for that.

“But, if I’m going to do that, I need to go now,” he continued, as he made his way back into the living room, “before all the stalls close for the day.” He came to stand directly in front of where you sat on the couch, huddled with your blankets.

You said nothing, keeping your gaze turned to the floor. He tilted his head at your silence.

“…That good with you, or…?”

Several more seconds passed. You huffed, turning to the side.

Thus, it finally seemed to click with him.

“Oh dear. Cold shoulder.” Much to your irritation, though, he only sounded amused, not genuinely upset. “What might that be for?”

You gritted your teeth, pulling the blanket over your head, just leaving enough space for you to see. You could still see him from your side as he sauntered over a few steps, leaning over against the wall as he continued.

“I’m being serious, you know. I don’t know why you’re upset… although I suppose forcing me to figure it out is the intent, of course.”

Every word that came out of his mouth only made you angrier. The audacity to sound so smug, a playful sort of dramatism he always seemed to carry in his voice. It irritated you to no end, especially in moments like these.

And to make matters worse, you could see him smile in your peripheral vision.

“I know you probably intended this to make me upset or something, buuuut, you’re really just giving me a challenge to figure out.” You didn’t miss the cocky expression on his face. “And that’s kind of my thing, you know?”

…You supposed he was right about that. Dammit. You probably should have thought about that before deciding to go through with this… but it was too late now. You merely shifted around, pulling your knees up to your chest, hoping your frustration showed on your face.

“Will you talk to me if I get it right?” He only waited for a single second before seeming to realize the futility of the question. “Ah, well, I guess asking that is pointless. Hmm…” He put his hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, speaking aloud as much to himself as to you. “If you just wanted me to get you something, simply telling me would be the more logical course of action.”

Your mouth pulled into a taut line with your irritation. You waited, listening as he continued his deductions.

“You don’t have any complaints that have gone ignored or anything… and even then, you’d probably just remind me if there was something I’d forgotten to fix.” He stood back upright, beginning to pace around on the floor. “Besides, this sort of behavior generally indicates that the other party has committed a specific transgression. If you just wanted something, this would be an impractical way of going about your goal.” He nodded, as if confirming the thought to himself. “The whole silent treatment thing is generally just a means of communicating displeasure, so that the offending party is forced to acknowledge their transgression.”

You pulled the blanket fully over your head, flopping down onto your side in exasperation and frustration, listening to him go on. At this point, his analysis was starting to feel humiliating, the description of it more or less a reminder of just how petty and childish it was. You felt a burning sense of embarrassment in your chest as you curled up into a ball, hugging your knees.

“There are two major factors to narrow it down — an active or passive transgression,” he continued, “and if the former, was it something I said, or something I did? Hm…”

You heard his footsteps make their way around the room as he spoke.

“You were talking with me normally this morning, and I didn’t notice any hostility then, so it would have to be something occurring just within the half hour or so since I came home, or—”

And then, he stopped mid-sentence.

“Ah.”

The tone of voice of that single syllable was immediately recognizable as realization. You felt a surge of bitterness come up in your chest again, and although it was embarrassing, you were still determined to get your point across.

“You forgot,” you finally muttered. Your voice came out incredibly whiny and petulant, but at this point, you just dealt with the nagging sense of shame.

“I know, I know. I said we’d go take a walk and get some food when I got back, right?” You heard his footsteps draw closer, coming over to you, and the couch cushions shifted with his weight as he sat down. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay? It was just a busy day, is all.” He reached over and rested his hand on your head through the layer of blanket. “I’m not going back on what I said, I just forgot. We can still go, we have time.”

You slowly sat up, pulling the blanket back down and uncovering your face. Your face felt hot, you looked down to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“…Sorry,” you murmured. Now that it was over, you felt horribly embarrassed by the whole stunt you’d pulled. You buried your face in your hands.

“Aw, don’t be upset. It’s fine.” He stood up, smiling, extending his hand out for you to take. “Come on, the lines will get long in just a few minutes.”

Now, you were actually quite grateful for his cheeriness. Still flustered, but humbled, you grasped his hand, letting him help pull you up. “Okay.”

“Mm.” He took a few steps over to the door, turning the knob, before coming to a halt. You saw the expression on his face waver, the smile twitch. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped short, closing his mouth again and taking a deep breath—

“I won’t talk to anyone.”

You gave him the assurance before he could ask, your voice quiet, as if by speaking softly, the matter itself could be more easily swept away once you were done addressing it.

He let go of the breath he’d taken, exhaling as his shoulders relaxed. For just a second, there was some discomfort in his expression, but it was gone within a moment, replaced with another playful smile.

“Ah, thanks.”

And thus, he turned the handle, pulling you out into the fresh air, and the many faces of strangers you’d learned to pretend didn’t exist.

Cyno

“I'm going to head out in just a minute. You can come with me, if you promise to behave well.”

You grinded your teeth. The choice of words was irritating enough, but you were primarily angered by the mere notion that being able to go outside — such a simple, basic right — was somehow an earned privilege.

No matter. You were already determined to ignore him anyway. You chose not to respond, returning to the book in your lap as you sat on the bed, refusing to turn to face him where he stood a short length away.

Sure enough, after a moment, you heard his footsteps on the stone floor, gradually coming around to your side, leaning over to try and look at your face.

“…Did you hear me? I was saying—”

You huffed, turning yourself away from him.

There was a pause.

“Oh.”

It didn't sound particularly bothered, only mildly surprised — perhaps that itself irritated you even more.

You saw him tilt his head out of the corner of you eye, white strands of hair brushing against his shoulder. “Isn’t this rather pointless? Communicating your emotions would be faster and easier if you just verbalize it.” After a pause, he added, “You can't keep this up forever.”

He crossed his arms, waiting for a response, but after several moments, received none.

He sighed. “Well, suit yourself, I suppose.”

You were not expecting, however, what came next — the book you were focused on was suddenly torn from your hands. You almost verbalized the ‘hey!’ that ran through your mind, only catching yourself just in time to stifle any noise, but the irritation and surprise surely still showed on your face as you looked up at him in bewilderment.

“What?” He tilted his head. “The obvious course of action here is to do things to upset you into speaking. You have to give it up at some point.” He shrugged. “I might as well expedite that process.”

You inhaled, automatically preparing to retort, but snapped your jaw shut as you caught yourself before you spoke once again. Your hands curled into fists.

He held the book under one arm, quickly reaching over and grabbing the two others sitting on the table beside the bed. “Alright… hm.” He turned his head, scanning the room. “I'll take all your reading material, and leave you alone with nothing to do while I'm gone. That's… maybe eight hours. You’ll have a good deal of time to reflect on your choice, at least.”

Your mouth pulled taut in an expression of displeasure. You didn't like the thought of such boredom.

He made his way over to the nearby desk, scooping up the remaining books into his arms before turning towards the hallway door. He turned his head back towards you.

“Unless you change your mind.”

He then began taking steps towards the door — slowly, deliberately so. It was infuriating that he responded with such calmness, and far more so that he was so easily able to completely overturn your attempt with barely any effort, without even being affected by it at all, and above all, most infuriating that he knew you'd give the exact response he anticipated.

And you did.

“Wait, wait—”

He came to a halt, but didn’t bother turning his head back to look at you. “Yes?”

Your hands balled up into fists, you were so irked by his words and demeanor, but nonetheless, you told yourself, you had no choice. You weren’t about to endure the alternative.

“…Fine…” You stood up, looking to the ground in embarrassment and frustration as you stomped over to where he stood. “I’ll go.”

He gave you a nod. “There, see, that was a much easier way of going about this.” He then took a few steps back towards the desk, depositing the books that had been used as leverage in your bartering as he added, “don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes, displeasure scrawled on your face. “…I guess.”

You stepped out of the room before he did, waiting for him to exit before following behind him, since you didn’t know exactly where you were going. For a few moments, you merely walked in silence. You didn’t know if he intended to address the matter again — hell, you never knew what he was thinking — but after a minute or so of silence, you got your answer.

“You know, if I were as spiteful as you were being, I might have rescinded the offer entirely,” he said, voice ever so blunt and monotonous. “And forced you to stay in there with nothing to do.”

You grinded your teeth, narrowing your eyes as you looked over at him.

“…Are you trying to get me to thank you?”

He didn’t miss a beat in his reply.

“It would be appreciated.”

You crossed your arms, puffing your cheeks out in a petulant pout, which seemed to get your refusal across well enough. He shrugged.

“Well, it was worth a try.”

Another minute passed. You took a turn down a dark hall, which seemed to prompt another thought to his mind.

“And in the future, you should probably be aware that such a strategy is rather weak. It’s very easy to turn around on the one using it, as you just observed.”

You huffed in irritation. “Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s actually very similar to a common flawed strategy used by beginner card players. You see…”

You sighed in exasperation, pressing your palm to your face as you prepared to tune out the following hour.

Kaveh

After the second time calling your name with no response, you finally heard him get up, walking over to where you lay in bed. You clenched your teeth, irritation exuding off your form in waves, so you hoped, at least.

As soon as he got closer, you huffed, closing your eyes, waiting for him to speak, and he did.

“Hey…”

Which you used as your cue to turn over, rolling onto your other side so that your back faced him.

There was a few seconds of pause before he pieced your actions together.

“…Are you mad at me?”

His voice was soft and pitiful-sounding, so much so you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

That momentary guilt was, however, almost immediately replaced with another surge of irritation. No. You knew exactly was he was doing, it was intentional, and you weren't going to fall for it.

He walked around to the foot of the bed, leaning over to look you in the eye.

“Hey—”

But you averted your gaze, pulling the blankets up over your face, turning over onto your stomach.

There was a moment of pause. His tone shifted.

“…Hmph. Fine.”

With that, he turned on his heel, stomping back to the desk at the other side of the room, and sat down, huffing as he resumed his work. You could hear the bitter irritation in his pencil scribbling, much heavier-handed and harsher than moments prior.

You waited for him to say something more, thinking his resolve to walk away from being ignored wouldn’t last long, but to your surprise, after some time passed, he still managed to stay quiet.

And more time passed, and then some more. You’d initially begun ignoring him around ten-thirty or so, and now, you confirmed as you peeked out from under the blankets — having almost fallen asleep — it was well past midnight.

Finally, your attention turned back to him as you heard him put the pencil down. He stood up (you did not miss the harshness with which the chair was pushed back), walked (with heavy footsteps) over to the floor lamp at the side of the room, and turned it off, leaving only the moonlight to cast light through the room.

But rather than coming over to bed, he only made his way back to the desk, dramatically slumping back down into the chair, putting his forearms on the desk before slouching forward and burying his face against them.

And then, there was only silence. You waited, but nothing happened.

It wasn't exactly difficult to figure out the intention. On one hand, your immediate thought was that it was petulant, but then again, you felt a twinge of guilt realizing you were more or less the instigator here (even if it was only in reaction to him annoying you earlier), and that your course of action wasn't exactly mature either.

Well, you supposed the right thing to do now would be to at least try and reconcile. You sighed.

“Kaveh.”

That time, you were the one who only got silence as a response. Turning your own act against you, you guessed.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and, having been a bit hesitant the first time, fully committed to resolving the situation. You tried again.

“…Kaveh.”

….

After a few more moments, your voice took on a tone of frustration, which you tried to suppress for the sake of your goal of conflict resolution.

“Kaveh. I know you can hear me. Come on.”

He didn't lift his head, so his response — thankfully giving one, at least — was not only in a bitter, pitiful-sounding voice, but also muffled by fabric.

“What.”

You sighed. “Look, I… I'm sorry, just… come to bed, okay? Let's just forget this.”

Ugh. Although you still figured it was the right thing to do, you realized with disappointment that you were giving in yet again, as you tended to be the one to do. You resolved to be a little stronger-willed next time… then again, you always did that too.

“…No.” Even in the dark, you could see him — albeit only in the form of a vaguely red-white-blonde lump — shift around as he spoke, bitterness in his voice. “You obviously don't want me over there. I'll sleep here.”

You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation as the defeat settled in. “No, I… I do. Please?”

Once more, you only got silence, even after waiting for half a minute or so. Finally, you took a deep breath, in and out, and — after a moment of hesitation to ask yourself if you were really going to do this, to which you determined it was for the best, regardless of what it did to your pride — swung your legs over the side of the bed, feet brushing against the cold floor.

Your footsteps shuffled against the hardwood with each of the very few steps it took to get from the bed to the desk. You could see him fidget as you approached.

In what you hoped would be perceived as affectionate, you bent your knees just enough to be at the same level as where he sat, an awkward positioning, but just enough to reach out and wrap your arms around him in an embrace.

“Come on. I’m sorry, okay?”

There was a few moments of quiet, and for a second, you thought maybe you would have no success, maybe he really was that upset. But then, he lifted his head, still speaking in a blatantly upset tone of voice.

“…Only if you tell me why you were doing that in the first place,” he muttered.

You sighed. “I dunno… I was just upset about everything from yesterday, and… look, it doesn’t matter.” You smiled, although you weren’t sure if he could see it. “Let’s just go to sleep… come on, please?”

There was a moment of pause, but finally, he stood up, huffing in residual stubbornness as he walked over to bed, falling flat on his back. “…Fine.”

You were too tired to be annoyed at that point, instead walking over, taking your place next to him. You decided to try and take the high road, so to speak. “…Sorry for ignoring you.”

You reached out and put your hand on his head. He turned, pulling you close, burying his face against your chest.

“…No, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, muffled by your clothing and flesh. “You’re right… let’s just forget it.”

You hummed in agreement. You were going to leave it at that, but after a moment, you felt him shift. He propped himself up on his elbow to speak.

“Hey, wait, what time is it? I was gonna show you the thing I was working on when you wouldn’t talk to me… I can still—”

“It’s one in the morning. PLEASE go to sleep.”

You both stiffened as the muffled voice came through the wall. Several awkward seconds passed.

Ah… you forgot how little privacy this place gave you. You raised your voice just enough to ensure you were heard.

“Sorry, Alhaitham…”

You heard him sigh and turn over on his side of the wall.

“Yeah, yeah.”

More silence as the seconds ticked by.

“I’ll, uh, show you tomorrow.”

“…Yeah.”

And with that, he finally laid back down to sleep.

Kazuha

“Ah, look at how bright it is. I didn't realize it would be a full moon tonight.”

He had a soft, blissful expression. He was one of those people that always seemed to find a great deal of joy in simple pleasures of life… depending on the circumstances, it could be either endearing or annoying.

At the moment, it was very much the latter. If you weren't so mad, you'd feel bad about what you were about to do.

It would certainly work, seeing as he was talkative by nature, always making little comments as you went about your day. You'd already tried to make your displeasure very clear — ever since you'd begun setting up camp for the night (in the middle of nowhere, where you now spent the majority of your time), you'd given him curt, cold, one-word replies, and the irritation was certainly audible in your voice.

He turned his head towards where you sat cross-legged on the ground, a wide smile on his face. “We should go for a walk, since it's so bright.”

The very last thing you wanted to do was more walking after having spent the entire day doing just that. You clenched your jaw, slouching over and resting your head against your hand.

A few seconds of quiet passed. After realizing you weren't responding, he leaned over to better look at your face, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

You huffed a heavy breath, jerking your head away from him.

“…Oh.” You could see him smile in your peripheral vision, albeit now an awkward, uncomfortable sort of smile. “You’re, ah, still upset about earlier, I take it?”

You didn't respond, maintaining your silence.

“…I'll take that as a yes… haha…”

The laugh was as forced and awkward as his expression. He stood silently for a moment, as if hoping it would be a very short effort and that you'd break your silence, but you did not.

“...It seems you really know how to find my weaknesses.” He gave you an awkward, sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. “This is bothering me more than I would have thought it would… but that's your intention, I imagine.”

You didn't really have any particular direction to take this effort — you didn't have anything you wanted to accomplish with it or anything, it just seemed the only way you could think of to express your frustration. Now, you weren't certain what to do — your only real course of action, you supposed, was to keep it up. You kept your silence. He moved to sit beside you, just a short distance away.

Silence followed, only disrupted by the crackling of the small fire beside you and the wind weaving between the tall grass. He kept up the same cheerful-but-mellow voice as always, the one that so very much got on your nerves whenever you tried your best to exude negativity, which he always seemed to shrug off effortlessly, perpetually unbothered.

Yes, your snide, sometimes even mean comments, your cold tone, your disgusted expressions, those never seemed to bother him at all. He just laughed and smiled and carried on as he always did.

With this, on the other hand, it seemed you’d finally found a weak point. You resisted the urge to grin, quite pleased with having found a greater success than you’d even expected.

Meanwhile, his own smile continued to falter, twitching right alongside his arms.

“If there's anything I can do that will make you… not do this, I'll gladly do it. You just… you know, have to tell me.”

You saw his fingers curl, straining the fabric as they dug into his thighs with such force and strain that they began to tremble.

But for a few minutes, he did nothing. Perhaps he was just waiting, giving you time to see if you'd change you mind, or maybe he just couldn't decide how to proceed. You kept your gaze focused on the scenery, the blades of grass as they waved back and forth in the breeze, the reflection of the moon wavering in the pond off in the distance. As irritated as you were, the landscape was admittedly quite serene.

You were brought out of your focus by the rustling sound as he stood. You remained still, but your heart began to accelerate as he took a few steps towards you, his ever light-footed way of walking barely making a sound, maneuvering behind you before slowly sitting down.

He shuffled forward, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you back. Once your shoulder blades touched his chest, he tilted his head forward, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

You fought the urge to squirm. You didn't like the quiet. Something about it, in that moment, was ominous, suffocating, as if some innate instinct was telling you something was wrong.

When he finally lifted his head, he spoke directly into your ear, breath warm against the flesh.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

The sudden quiet, low voice sent a chill down your spine. You found yourself going stiff, eyes widening.

His grip tightened, squeezing your waist firmly enough that it began to hurt.

“…I don't like doing that… it makes me feel really weird, you know…?”

It grew tighter. His fingers began to dig into your sides, ten small points pressing with painful force. You stiffened, body reflexively arching forward to get away from the pain, but they only dug in harder, pulling you back.

“But,” he continued, voice low and quiet, so soft yet somehow so chilling, “I really don't like you doing this.”

Your heart felt as if it were pounding out of your chest. Your breathing grew quicker.

He tilted his head downward, resting his forehead against the back of your neck. The final words came out wavering, almost a whisper.

“So… you’ll stop this, won’t you?”

You swallowed. Your response came out instinctively, the dread you felt having easily defeated your stubbornness.

“O-okay,” you stuttered as you spoke, “I'm sorry, I didn't… I didn't mean to make you…”

The pain came to an abrupt stop, his entire body relaxed with a heavy sigh of relief.

“Ah, haha,” this time, he squeezed you in his arms only enough to convey affection. “I was worried for a moment there.” His voice immediately shifted back to its usual timbre, soft and soothing. “I’m glad you weren’t too upset.”

You shook your head, eyes still wide with fear, needless to say struggling with the psychological whiplash of the rapid shift in the atmosphere.

If he noticed your stiffness, he didn’t say anything, instead opting to affectionately rest his head on your shoulder, leaning his face against yours. “Well, it’s probably too late to walk anyway… and you’re probably tired, too. Hm…” he paused for a moment, then lifted his head, tilting it up to the sky. “We can appreciate the beauty of the night while being sedentary, though. Say, are you familiar with the constellations?”

You struggled to give a verbal answer. “A-ah, well, I…” You swallowed.

“Ah, that’s alright. I know them very well. Right now, hmm… see that one directly above us?”

He started to point up, you let your gaze follow his direction as he began to ramble on about this and that star. Most of the time, you found that soft-spoken but avid enthusiasm rather endearing — although in that moment, you found it a bit difficult to appreciate.

“And a little to the right, those four that form a bit of a square shape, that’s—hey, are you cold?”

“Mm?” You gave your best attempt to smile, knowing he could at least see the side of your face. “I, uh, I guess… why…?”

“You’re just shivering pretty badly,” he replied. “You should have said something. Here…”

He leaned backwards, grabbing the blanket atop your shared makeshift sleeping bag, pulling it over and wrapping it around the both of you, covering you from the night wind that, in reality, barely even did anything to alleviate the sweltering summer heat.

“That better?”

You nodded. “…Yeah.”

“Mm, good. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Once you nodded, he wrapped his arms around you again, pointing back up at the sky and resuming his lesson.

Xingqiu

“There’s a yearly festival going on tonight.”

You were already irritated, but the cheerfulness in Xingqiu’s voice when he came bounding into the room certainly did not help.

He quickly made his way over to where you sat, leaning over to the side to better look at your face.

“It’s one of the most exciting ones the harbor holds, in my opinion. We should go!”

Silence. You said nothing in reply, only curling your fingers into fists, clenching your jaw and looking down at the floor.

A few seconds passed as he processed your response, or rather, lack thereof. Given the dispute that had taken place a few hours ago, you were certain it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out.

“Ah… aha… surely you’re not still upset about earlier, are you?” He tilted his head, the smile on his face unwavering. “Come on, this will be fun. It’s only for a few days, so we should really make the most of it.”

More silence. Even though you didn’t speak, you didn’t try to hide the spite and irritation on your face.

He then crouched down to get face-to-face with you. His smile was still there, but his eyebrows shifted to an expression of displeasure, the top and bottom halves of his face seemingly misaligned.

“You’re not going to let some silly little disagreement ruin your whole day, are you?” He reached out, patting the top of your head. “Come on, now, you’re more mature than that.”

You almost snapped at him, but you held your tongue. You had become increasingly aware of the subtle ways he seemed to manipulate your thoughts and feelings, slipping in little choices of words to have very specific effects, like with the last thing he’d just said. It irritated you to no end — much more so how often it worked, only for you to realize it later on.

But not today. You were going to be firm, resolute, not let him influence you, so you told yourself. You huffed a heavy breath, crossing your arms and jerking your head out from under his hand.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his expression shift — his eyes narrowed, his smile fell, and you heard the soft -tch of disapproval as he stood upright — only for his face to shift back to a pleasant expression as quickly as it had fallen to an unpleasant one, a degree of composure worthy of being called a honed and trained skill.

He sighed, overdramatically so, holding his hands out palm-up at each side and shaking his head. “And here I was trying to do something to make you happy. Oh well.”

He turned on his heel away from you, facing the door.

“How unfortunate. I suppose I'll just have to go by myself.”

He began to walk towards the exit, each step deliberately slow, an unmistakable smugness to his eloquent, dramatic way of speech.

“Of course, I'm sure my father will ask where you are...” he sighed again, shrugging his shoulders. “I'll just have to tell him that the spouse he found for me is so very disagreeable.”

You clenched your teeth. You could feel it coming, knew exactly what the next words out of his mouth would be. You nearly trembled with how hard your muscles tensed.

He paused his steps right at the edge of the door, and without bothering to look over at you, in a voice just so perfectly quiet, he added—

“I'm sure that will have a positive effect on your family’s standing with mine.”

You clenched your jaw. There it was. The one card he always held, an instant defeat.

“Wait…”

The word came out of your mouth on impulse. You winced at your own failure, but it wasn’t as if you had much of a choice.

Then he decided to turn around.

“Oh?” He tilted his head, cheerfulness returned to his voice and expression. “You’ve changed your mind?”

You shuffled over to where he stood, keeping your gaze to the ground. “…Yes. I’ll go.”

“…”

There was a pause. His eyes were half-lidded, the look on his face and the heavy tension in the air making it obvious what was expected of you.

But again, choice was not a luxury you had. You swallowed your pride.

“…Sorry for… being like that.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, that? It’s no big deal, really. I’m not upset at all.” Then, he extended the same hand out to you. “You’re ready, then?” He smiled, this time seemingly back to a genuine cheer. “I already have a route planned out to get us to all the best spots in one night.”

You nodded, taking his hand in yours.

“Sounds great.”

#kaveh w the uno reverse card #genshin impact x reader #these were really fun to write #id like to eventually go back and do other chrs as well #also I need to make more xq content...#i feel like ive said that before but i need go actually do it aaaaaaaaaa #hes my baby boy

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ikeuverse · 11 months ago

Text

LOVE SHOT — p.jongseong

PAIRING: cop!jay x investigator fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor, slight (really light) angst WC: 9.7k+

WARNINGS: some cursing, mention of betrayal, a slight brawl near the end. nothing to worry about, but let me know if i've forgotten anything else.

SYNOPSIS: after being betrayed, jay was never able to fall in love with anyone again, even more so in his work environment. but that thought would not remain the moment he laid eyes on you, entering the meeting room as his new work partner in the investigations.

NOTES: i didn't want to focus so much on professions or the work environment itself, but i wanted something out of the ordinary (offices or coffee shops) and i thought of something more humorous, apart from the betrayal part, of course. idk if i'm 100% satisfied with this story, but all feedback is appreciated. i hope you like it!

masterlist

Working can be both tiring and rewarding. Tiring because you put in hours – sometimes a few extra – a day throughout the week. Rewarding because you get paid for it and often end up enjoying what it can bring you.

Jay believed that work went much further than that. Being in the police force for eight years had its good and bad sides, and he couldn't romanticize something that, time and again, took his mind off things.

The good side: he applied to join the police at the end of university, as a joke with his best friend – who ended up applying three days after him – and guess what? They both got in. The aptitude test was positive and all they had to do was accept that they now had a job. You wouldn't want to throw away the years you spent studying for something that had nothing to do with the police, but after a few years, the rewards came.

For his excellent performance, still on the good side of his job, being promoted to head of special operations was something Jay never thought he'd do. Perhaps Jake, his best friend, was better suited to it. He was stronger, more agile, and had certainly been on more missions than Jay himself.

Don't belittle your achievements, Jake told him with a huge smile, content with his position as deputy boss. Because the two had always been a duo since they joined, it wouldn't be fair for Jay to move up and leave his friend behind.

But not everything could be described as a good thing, after all, there is a bit of negativity in all of this. Not just because he works to combat bad things. That was the least of the problems at the police station. But because Jay knew that being in that environment would make him experience everything intensely.

Downside: getting involved with a coworker.

Where's the downside, Jongseong? As it was easy to remember the good things, the bad things came just as easily.

Like the greatest romance cliché, Jay liked the girl straight away. Her light hair and easy smile for anyone in the department made him smile too. But it wasn't just the smile that ended up being easy. Jay had to find out the hard way, dating for three months and a week before learning of his long-awaited promotion.

Everyone at the police station knew about Jay and Yuri, the criminal cases clerk. She had joined almost a year ago, attracting the attention of some of the police officers she worked with. It was normal, after all, Yuri was pretty, and practically all the women – and there weren't many of them – who worked at the police station were pretty.

"Maybe that's a requirement for working here," Sunoo joked once in the café when Yuri walked past them.

"Or maybe they put pretty girls to the test," Heeseung, an investigator and friend of the boys, suddenly hummed.

Jay laughed, knowing that his friends were too stupid. Or maybe they were right.

But apart from being pretty, Yuri didn't really like Jay. Or he thought of that possibility as soon as he saw her with her tongue down the throat of a policeman he didn't even know, doing each other in the break room on a shift when he was supposed to be at home.

That's why she was there with another man. Yuri knew Jay's routine, and going to the break room at a time when he wasn't at the police station would be perfect for no one to catch them.

But Jay had forgotten his coat the night before and needed to put his uniform in the wash. He didn't like leaving clothes hanging and dirty.

My coat saved me from the worst, he thought as he took a long stride out of the room, leaving under the shouts of Yuri calling his name.

"Jay, wait!" she gasped, running to him as the boy rushed down the stairs.

He almost jumped down two steps at once but stopped himself because he didn't want to twist his foot or hurt himself. So he tried to go as fast as he could until he felt Yuri's hands on his arm.

"What do you want?" he asked in a string of voices, holding back all his anger so as not to shout at her.

Firstly because they were on the stairs and it would make a huge echo, and secondly because Jay, even if he was nervous, would never shout at a woman. Even if she deserved it.

"It's not… No…"

"Don't tell me it's not what I think, because I saw it" that tone sent a chill down anyone's spine. Both Yuri and the people at the police station had only ever seen Jay talk like that in some negotiation – almost non-negotiable – or with some guy who challenged the battalion they worked in.

"This is all your fault" she said after a while when she saw that Jay wasn't saying anything, now seeing the horrified expression on his face "You're too focused on the job and…"

"Because I'm paid to do that, Yuri" he interrupted her "Not to mention that we work in the same environment, we see each other every day" Jay took a few steps towards her, tilting his face so that it was level with his – now ex – girlfriend "And I've always taken time out, in all my breaks, to see you. So what's my fault that you cheated on me right under my nose?"

Silence. One sigh, two, three.

Jay knew that was the cue to leave, so, disengaging Yuri's hand from his arm, he left as hurriedly as he had before.

And that had been the last conversation he had with his ex before, a week later, he learned of his promotion to boss.

Jay didn't want people to feel sorry for him or treat him differently after what had happened. For a long time, he had to deal with painful looks in his direction, and sometimes his colleagues wanted to drag him to some dance club to try and forget what had happened.

The only one who understood was Jake. Being in the same office as his best friend helped him keep his sanity when someone made some kind of comment, even if it wasn't a mean one, about what had happened.

It lasted a couple of months and he wanted to punch himself for ranting and hinting that something had happened. But as soon as his relationship became known, he knew that the break-up and betrayal would go the same way.

"People are giving her the stink eye right now" Sunoo walked into the special operations unit room, poking Jake in the head and then walking over to Jay, handing him a cup of coffee.

"No coffee for me?" Jake muttered quietly, grimacing and running over to Jay to sip his drink, knowing that his best friend wasn't in the mood for it.

"I didn't want any of this" Jay sighed, wiping his hands across his face in exhaustion.

"Sure, who wants to be betrayed?" Jake dodged another nudge from Sunoo, grabbing his coffee cup and heading over to his table.

"What I mean is…" he sighed, ignoring Jake who continued humming as he sipped the hot liquid, working wonders on his system because he really needed some caffeine "Yuri's reputation was tarnished after that, even Liam's."

"Liam?" Jay frowned.

"The policeman… You know…" Sunoo scratched the back of her head and tried her best to smile. Not that she wanted to smile at the situation, but maybe she wanted to reassure Jay a little.

It was only then that the boy realized. Liam was the one with Yuri, the policeman Jay had seen making out with his ex-girlfriend in the break room.

He didn't even want to know anything about the guy: his name, who he was, what position he was in. He could only tell that he was a policeman by his clothes, but for the rest, Jay tried to push it out of his mind and even walked away when someone brought it up. He only found out because Sunoo had said it out loud.

"Well, may he do well, then" Jay got up from his chair when the alarm went off, indicating that they needed to be in the meeting room to organize strategies for a new case.

Passing Jake's desk, he took the cup from his best friend's hand – halfway, thankfully – and drank the rest of the coffee.

"Hey!" Jake protested.

"It was meant for me, asshole" Jay cursed and laughed when the other tried to say something else, but got up and walked along with Sunoo behind Jay.

The three of them headed towards the huge room and entered. They weren't the first because Heeseung was already there, his typical tired smile indicating that he had just woken up. Maybe he'd been at the police station all night to sort something out.

"I think someone needs coffee too" Jake hummed.

"Go and get it, since you've had all my coffee" Jay said.

"I was doing you a favor" that funny little discussion was typical of almost every day. Because of Jay and Jake's intimacy and because the department was so heavy, funny energy was always a good way to get work done.

Gradually the room filled up, Jay's people came in and greeted the head and deputy head. Waving to Sunoo and Heeseung too.

When everyone was properly positioned, like a regular meeting, the chief of the police station greeted them and began to pass on some instructions and changes in some cases.

It wasn't often that he tinkered much with Jay's department, being one of the few who managed to play the role straight without too many changes. But Park, like a good boss, knew he was having a bit of trouble accessing information for a new case.

So when the station boss called his name, the boy straightened up in his chair and sniffled.

"Yes, boss" Jay greeted the gray-haired man, receiving a smile in response.

"I've been thinking and I want to know if you mind changing a few things in your case" he stood, resting one hand on the table while the other was in the holster at his waist.

"Of course not, boss, whatever you think is best."

The man nodded positively, looking at Heeseung this time.

"I thought I'd put some investigators on your case, you know, gather information" that was brilliant, considering that Jay was on a high-risk case. Where he needed to know more about people until he got to the main suspect – and criminal – in fact.

Heeseung seemed surprised, having never thought of working directly with special ops personnel where he only heard Jay and Jake's crazy stories. It sounded pretty exciting.

"But I think Heeseung alone would be too little for the size of your case, guys" Heeseung just agreed with his boss, knowing that he couldn't do it alone either "So I took the liberty of calling in two other people, if that's okay with you."

"That's fine with me" Jay smiled quickly.

He couldn't count how long he was paralyzed between the police chief calling in the new people to work on his case and the moment his eyes landed on you.

The dark uniform, the shiny badge hanging around your neck, and the most captivating smile Jay had ever seen in his life. Strangely, he felt elated when you looked at him, holding his gaze and waving to greet him.

"This is Y/n, deputy boss of investigations. And Stella, the boss of the department" the gray-haired man introduced, and just hearing Jay's name was worth a lot.

Stella talked all the time about how she and her department would contribute to the operation, Heeseung did a great job of adding some information along with his boss while talking to the special ops men.

But not Jay. He just didn't know what to say. It was as if he felt like a teenager again, unable to utter a single word in front of the most beautiful girl in school.

"Right" Jake noticed his best friend's pause, holding back a smile because it would be used against him a few minutes later "Jay and I are happy about the addition to our team. We're going to work very well together and I think a team of investigators would be perfect. Welcome."

After the thanks, Jake asked some of his boys to go over what progress they had made so far with the new team of investigators. You and Stella followed him, while the people in the room gradually dissipated until Jay, Jake, Sunoo and Heeseung were left.

"We have to go too, don't we?" Jay stood up.

"Oh, now he's learned to talk again" Sunoo joked.

"What?" Jay's eyes widened as he heard the other three burst into laughter.

"Dude, you froze when y/n walked in" Heeseung held in his laughter so he could finish his sentence.

"Me? Of course not."

"I had to introduce you, you couldn't even say your name" Jake pushed Jay's body as he stood up, leaning on the table and grinning mischievously "So that's her?"

"That's her? Her what?" Jay looked at the three of them, one at a time, receiving knowing looks from his friends.

"Who's going to make you dismantle that barrier you've created in your heart."

Jay hated how direct Sunoo was with his words. He didn't hate it completely, because he knew that Jake said things slowly, testing the waters, while Sunoo got straight to the point and didn't beat around the bush. Heeseung was more of a moral supporter, always trying to see the bright side of things and, even if he didn't, the boy made a good point about it.

"She's kind and very beautiful" Heeseung said, wrapping his arm around Jay's shoulders "Not to mention that she loses bets easily and gives a sensational shoulder massage."

"What? You…" Jake walked into his and Jay's living room, awestruck by Heeseung's words.

Jay didn't want to be disappointed at the thought of Heeseung's closeness to you, but he felt like a complete idiot for thinking that way when he had only known you for less than twenty minutes.

"We're very good friends, just like you, Jake and Sunoo" he was the last to enter, disengaging his arm from Jay's shoulder to close the door and sit down on the small dark leather sofa.

"Tell us more about it" Sunoo asked, and Jay was grateful for the directness as he didn't want to seem desperate for information.

He didn't even know why he was so intrigued by you.

Heeseung didn't mince his words when he started telling about the first time he met you and Stella. He had joined the police force in almost the same year as Jay and Jake. Eight years in one environment was a long time, and a year and a half later you were both there, in the same department as him. Completely out of place because you were the only women and investigators.

Of course, there was a bit of prejudice from other people and even a certain masked machismo, but not with Heeseung. He had been the only one to talk to them, to ask them to lunch.

"Oh, that's why you canceled a few lunches with us" Jake recalled.

Continuing the story in which he had been entertained, seeing the attention of the three in front of him, Heeseung sat down a little more comfortably on the sofa to finish speaking.

Those years of being friends with the only women in the department had made Heeseung work hard, include his friends in any case he entered and, without a doubt, ask them for their opinion. To show that they were just as capable as he was.

It was no wonder that, three years later, Stella was being appointed boss of the investigation department. A change here and there removed the former male boss from his post, and the police station apologized for the whole thing because there were too many departments to manage and they were sorry that someone from their building had been through so much bad stuff.

"Did you want to be boss?" Jay asked.

"Not in a million years" Heeseung replied quickly, "I'm not good at it."

"What do you mean?"

Sunoo knew what he meant, but it was funny to remember Heeseung's antics in the police force. Like when he almost broke your arm, when you two went after a case to investigate and he tripped over his own feet running after the suspect. Not realizing that you were so close that he fell on top of you.

Or when he doused the micro camera from another mission, costing thousands just for that investigation, an expensive piece of equipment that the head of the police station shelled out for just so they could have such excellent materials to capture the suspect.

Heeseung was content with his fumbles and also knew that it was a lot of responsibility, he was happy with his position.

"What about the deputy boss?" Jay didn't even bother to ask anymore since all his friends were too curious for that.

"Don't be fooled, she's just as clumsy as I am" Heeseung laughed "But y/n investigated that serial killer last year, it gave her a lot of visibility" he remembered sleepless nights helping his friend with the case. He'd dropped out at first because he'd been recruited for something else, but when he had time off, he ended up helping "She asked me to be the deputy boss, but I got scared of the title and ended up almost fainting at the appointment meeting."

"Heeseung" Jake swallowed back a laugh, closing his eyes as he shrugged.

"Huge positions make me nervous, I'm sorry" he apologized, making himself comfortable on the sofa in Jay and Jake's living room "But it's good that the two people they despised the most just for being women are now heads of the department" he smiled genuinely happy "And I'm one position below y/n, my salary is higher than all those idiots."

At least there was something good that Heeseung hadn't been nervous about, he could handle a good amount – almost triple – his old salary and still be close to the two women from the start.

"Okay, now talk about the massage or Jay will explode" Sunoo ordered after a while, seeing that his friend was restless in his chair. Jay hated being so expressive like that or that his friends knew him so well.

He rolled his eyes, ready to refute what Sunoo had said when Heeseung started talking.

"Me and y/n live off bets. Whether it's our cases or those of other colleagues" he closed his eyes, sighing a little as tiredness began to take over his body. "So if she loses, she's obliged to massage my shoulders for a week. And if I lose, I'll buy her lunch for a week."

"That sounds like…" Sunoo began.

"Cool. Shall we do it?" Jake turned to Jay, seeing him roll his eyes.

"I wouldn't massage your shoulders," he retorted.

"But you'd let y/n do it on you?"

Yes. He bit his tongue to answer, almost letting it slip without thinking.

Heeseung laughed when he opened his eyes and saw Jay's mental dilemma between answering or not.

The boss of the department also started to feel bad, as if he was invading something that Heeseung seemed to have built up with you, after all, the two of you seemed very close.

Jay didn't realize he'd been rambling on for too long, only realizing when Heeseung was standing in front of him, snapping his fingers to get his attention. Jake and Sunoo had already left the room, probably going to get some coffee or pick up something about the case they had to work on.

"Relax, dude" Heeseung commented as soon as Jay stood up, walking out of the room beside him.

"What about?" he asked, not knowing why his tone was hesitant.

"Y/n is my best friend" he said simply, having Jay's eyes fixed on his face the whole time he spoke, "And she's also the one responsible for getting me together with Stella."

"Oh" was all he managed to say. Jay hadn't noticed, no one had.

Either Heeseung and Stella were extremely professional, or Jay was so intrigued to know about you that if his friend had said something about his girlfriend, he didn't pay attention.

"My relationship with y/n could be the same as the one you'll have with Stella if you start a relationship with her best friend" he let slip, laughing at Jay's expression. He hadn't said anything and his friends were already thinking about a relationship? "Don't worry, I approve of you two dating."

Arriving at the coffee shop, Heeseung ran up to his two friends, who were already ordering the coffee they were all drinking together.

With no chance to reply, Jay stood there for long minutes thinking about everything that had happened that day.

He had met one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life, if not the most beautiful. He had learned that Heeseung was dating her and, what's more, his best friend was the one who had been making him think for so long.

A woman, in his workplace, making his heart race. Something he swore would never happen again.

You knowing a little more about Jay – beyond what was circulating around the police station – was a sign that he also knew about you, even more so when Heeseung said some qualities or even the way you two exchanged glances the first time you met in that meeting room, almost a month ago.

You were the cupid for Heeseung and Stella's relationship, and now you were sure that your friend was trying to do the same thing with you and Jay.

"No one told you to say out loud that the head of special operations was hot" Stella whispered, biting into the snack she had brought because today was going to be a busy day, with no chance of lunch in the refectory.

"I thought you and I were the only ones in the room" you tried to defend yourself, remembering the exact moment when you sighed and said how hot Jay was. Heeseung entered a few seconds earlier, without making a fuss, hearing exactly the moment when you almost whimpered.

Of sure he pestered you for weeks before he started talking to you a bit more about Jay.

"All right, all right" Stella finished, "but you know Hee's only trying to help."

"Hee" you rolled your eyes, making your best friend laugh. Your relationship with Heeseung was almost like big brother and little sister. You felt like Stella was your sister-in-law.

"Hey, girls" Heeseung waved from the door of the investigation office.

"Speaking of the devil" you smiled falsely, unwrapping your snack just as your friend walked in, muttering some swear words at you as he made his way over to Stella's desk.

The smack of lips from the two of them kissing made you sigh at how cute they were, but as soon as Heeseung's eyes met yours, you faked a vomiting noise just to pick on him.

"Put down your snacks, we're going to lunch" he said, holding Stella's sandwich halfway and pulling it away from her hands.

"We don't have time, love. Me and y/n have a lot to do before we meet the operations staff…"

"Exactly" Heeseung smiled at his girlfriend "Let's have lunch with them and go straight to the office, we have a lot of work."

After the end of the sentence Heeseung immediately looked in her direction. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he raised his eyebrows at you.

Did he plan that? Lunch with the special ops guys meant lunch with Jay. And you felt embarrassed enough that your friend had caught you confessing that the head of another department was hot. Looking at him and having lunch with him wasn't on your mind, at least not until this case was over.

"I don't think so" you said.

"Come on, y/n, let's go" Heeseung asked, pouting. He knew it wouldn't convince you, especially coming from him, but trying was always an option for the boy "Jay asked you to go."

You knew he hadn't asked you to do anything, Heeseung had just said that to see if you'd cheer up and, in the worst or best case scenario, he and Stella's thoughts about you being into Jay could have been right. He was, but you wouldn't say anything until then.

"Stella" you called out to your friend, who was already packing up to leave the room. In defeat, you got up from your desk and tidied up before joining the couple "Do you mind being widowed early? I think I'm going to kill your boyfriend."

Heeseung's hysterical scream echoed down the corridor, and no one thought it strange since this was the two of you's relationship there. People got so used to laughing with you and him that it was strange the other way around. When you or Heeseung were too serious, not joking or shouting around. The head of the police station even thanked you for bringing a little joy to such a chaotic environment.

As soon as they arrived at the refectory, it was relatively crowded and not very surprising, given that it was the exact time that almost all the departments were there.

Heeseung spotted the table where the other three friends were sitting and waved to get their attention. With his free hand, he intertwined his fingers with Stella's to lead the way and walk with the two of you to the rest of the people.

"You really did it" Sunoo applauded as soon as the three of you reached the table "He said it would be almost impossible to get you two out of that room."

"Considering he almost stole our snack" you commented.

"I'm going to expose you" Heeseung hissed.

"Fuck off" you said in the same tone.

The laughter was contagious as the two of you started talking, while you realized that Heeseung had already reserved a seat for him and Stella next to Jake, leaving only one seat between Jay and Sunoo.

I'll kill you.

You son of a bitch.

I hate you.

There were a few curses that you uttered silently, just moving your lips as you went around the table to sit between the two men.

Heeseung, holding back his laughter, sat down to in front of Sunoo.

"Shall we wait for the line to shorten and get lunch?" Stella asked.

"Or we could go in threes to save our table too" Sunoo said.

"Good idea" Heeseung nodded "Can it be me, Stella, and Jay?"

"Sure, go ahead" Jake replied, waving to the three of them who were getting up.

Jay tried his best not to look tense as you sat down next to him, noticing the look on his face as soon as he stood up. It was infectious, so he smiled as soon as you smiled back as a small greeting before he joined Heeseung and Stella for the lunch line.

"You know" Jake leaned across the table, catching your eye until you finally looked at him and stopped staring at Jay, "I think you two are cute."

"What?" you widened your eyes.

Sunoo laughed, wanting to hit Jake, but he was too far away for that.

"I don't know, I think you and Jay would be cute together" he was playing with the wrapper of something, probably the straw from the empty coffee cup in front of him "and since I'm his best friend, I approve of that."

"Heeseung and you are up to something, right?" your eyes narrowed, making Jake mimic the act and then laugh a little.

"Those two are idiots, y/n. Don't mind them" Sunoo touched your shoulder so gently that you turned to him, smiling in appreciation "But you two are really cute."

"I was starting to like you" your eyes now narrowed at Sunoo, who was laughing just like Jake a few minutes earlier.

The three of you got into a completely different conversation after that, talking about other police departments and what you would do if you had never joined the police.

That made for a good few minutes of conversation until Jay, Heeseung and Stella came back with trays of food. Then it was time for you three to go. Grateful that it hadn't taken too long – and that there was fruit salad – you and Sunoo grabbed two containers each, celebrating that you now had a friend who loved fruit salad too. None of the others would take that salad and you didn't know how, loving that the same indignation was shared by Sunoo.

"Now we can eat just the two of us" he whispered before returning to the table.

In another conversation, now completely different and without provocation, you noticed that Jay's laughter was contagious. His gaze was much more fixed on you than on anyone else at the table, but the atmosphere was so pleasant that you were no longer embarrassed to have to look at him so closely. Or to feel his hand brushing lightly against yours a few times when the two of you went to get something from the tray to eat because you were sitting next to each other.

For Jay, after years, that feeling was rediscovered. He thought he was rusty, worn out from feeling something good romantically or even in the form of interest in someone. But not when you talked so animatedly, or with the swearing at Heeseung while he stole some fries from your tray.

Jay didn't have time to experience this feeling with Yuri because she didn't care much for Jay's friendships, not even Jake whom he had known since high school.

Yuri seemed to want to deprive him of some things even though they had only been together for a short time.

Don't call them haunts, they'll show up, Jay thought to himself as soon as he looked up, two tables away. Yuri was staring at him fervently, looking as if her face was red from something spicy she had eaten. But there was nothing spicy on the menu, so why did she look like she was about to explode?

"Jay" he quickly turned to you, surprised that you were calling him. He stared at you, realizing that you were whispering while his friends were talking loudly and excitedly about another conversation. He leaned in close enough for you to continue saying "Are you okay?"

Don't make it difficult, y/n. I can't feel like kissing you right now, he sighed but nodded in agreement.

"I am, it's just…" he looked again at the table Yuri was at, wanting to curse himself in every possible way when you looked in the same direction and then at him.

Your posture straightened and you had a frightened look on your face.

In your mind, he was still thinking about his ex, so all the joking around that his friends were doing wouldn't lead anywhere.

In his mind, Jay didn't care if Yuri was angry with another woman sitting next to him or not. He only cared about your interpretation and what you thought of it. He didn't want it to be taken the wrong way and end something that had barely begun.

"Am I supposed to feel bad that she's ignoring me?" Jay huffed, untying his holster and throwing it on the table abruptly.

He didn't understand why he was so nervous. Maybe it was because he and the team of investigators had finally started working together, and you were the only one who wasn't looking directly into his eyes anymore.

For the first few days, Jay thought it was the nervousness of the interaction since he also knew how much his friends teased him about the whole situation. But then he started to put the pieces together, exchanging glances with Yuri… until Heeseung went in as a personal investigator and tried to get something out of it.

"His ex looked like she was going to kill him with just that look" you whispered to your friend, telling him what had happened in the refectory. Heeseung even opened his mouth to say something, but Jake had called for them to start organizing the operations.

Jay didn't feel good about it. The relationship had been years ago, people had talked about it for months until it had cooled down and, after all this time, he finally felt ready to rediscover his feelings, or whatever they were, for you. But it seemed that Yuri was suffocating him even though you were no longer with him.

The few things you told Heeseung that weren't secret, he told Jay. And that made him understand why you were ignoring him.

"She just thinks too much" Stella pulled out the swivel chair to sit next to Jay's desk. Only the two bosses were there after Heeseung left with Jake "Y/n doesn't have such a…"

"As bad as mine?" Jay let out a sarcastic whisper, hating the way Yuri could still affect him even though he hadn't done anything.

"I wouldn't put it like that, but since you did" she shrugged, causing Jay to let out a small laugh. Remembering when Heeseung said that she would probably be the friend that Jay could pick on, just like Heeseung and you did.

"I don't know, I really liked her, you know? It was weird, but I liked it" Jay sat down and leaned all his weight on the chair. Stella remained silent, enjoying the free venting session "I never thought I could have this feeling after what Yuri did."

"She was a bitch."

"Yes, she was" Jay let Stella laugh at the situation, ending up laughing too "Now your friend hates me."

"No, she doesn't" the woman pouted, twisting in her chair as she stared at the office ceiling "Maybe she needs to hear from you what happened."

"That my ex is psychotic and even I don't know why she was looking so angry?" he asked.

"Exactly" Stella stopped spinning, raising her head and meeting Jay's gaze "Then you can ask her to dinner."

The naturalness with which Stella had said it made Jay certain why she and Heeseung were a perfect couple.

"Right, I…"

"Rest room" she said as soon as he stood up "Not the one you… Well… It's been forbidden since Jake told us what floor it was. So we don't go there anymore."

He laughed, probably imagining the story his best friend had told to try to convince them. The betrayal in itself was already a story, but Jake had certainly increased it by 300%, even telling them that they would have bad luck in any niche of life if they continued resting in the room he entered and found Yuri and the other policeman.

Jay listened carefully to where the restroom was and quickly climbed the stairs, not wanting to wait for an elevator – and there were only two flights – he arrived so quickly that he had to catch his breath as he walked through the corridors until he arrived in front of the door.

You can do it, Jongseong. He said to himself before turning the handle and entering.

Stella was right, you were in that room sitting on the sofa with your feet propped up on the coffee table. A cup of juice was in front of you and your attention was focused on some papers in your hands. You only looked away when Jay snorted, causing you to startle and quickly get up from the sofa.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" he said afterward, noticing that you weren't expecting him there. Well, he wasn't even expecting to come after you, if he was honest.

"It's okay, I… I was just leaving" you put the papers in the envelope and tried to look for your coat.

"No, wait," Jay ordered.

Don't keep talking, don't say anything.

"I wanted to talk to you."

Fuck. You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you turned back to pick up the cup of juice on the coffee table, letting all the air out of your lungs in a sigh, hoping that Jay hadn't heard the urgency with which it had happened.

Turning to face him, with the envelope in one hand and the cup of juice in the other, you nodded, indicating that you were listening.

"Something wrong with the case? I was reviewing some—"

"It's nothing to do with the case" Jay interrupted subtly, taking a few more subtle steps towards you. If you noticed the approach, you didn't flinch, only noticing how close he was when, with one more step, Jay would completely glue his body to yours.

"So what's it about?" you didn't even know because your voice dropped an octave, let alone why Jay was whispering when there were only the two of you there.

Carefully and without answering anything, he took the envelope and the cup from your hand, placing them both on the coffee table and finally bringing his body completely close to yours.

You knew Jay's proportions from the way his muscles were well-defined by his dress clothes, his suspenders, and any other possible garment. You also knew how fit he was because you'd seen him once in a while in casual clothes, when he went to the police station to pick up something he'd forgotten or even helping you and Jake, as deputy boss, who stayed late solving the case you were working on together.

You knew that. But seeing it up close seemed to be even bigger than usual.

"About the misunderstanding on refectory day" every word Jay uttered, he made a point of prolonging the ending just so that the air from his mouth hit your skin. Making you close your eyes and concentrate on the minty breath mixed with coffee.

Your mouth opened to protest, but Jay – not knowing where the courage had come from – brought one of his hands to your waist to press your body against his. This kept you quiet for a few seconds, even if he had intended to shut you up in some other way. And he wanted to. He would.

Jay leaned in close enough for you to feel his warm lips brushing against yours. One more little impulse and you'd press your lips to his, feel even more of the minty coffee breath in your mouth. Your hands circle his chest until they meet the collar of his dress shirt.

And with that, Jay knew it was time to move on and finally press his lips to yours.

"Holy fuck, Heeseung!" the bang of the door together with Jake's shout made you and Jay separate quickly.

Not because you were caught almost kissing, but because Jake's scream had startled you both.

"I didn't know it was this break room" he almost cried "Oh my God, forgive me."

"I'm going to kill you" Jake kept shouting "Sorry, guys. You two… Can you…" he looked between you and Jay, his hand still on your waist and you keeping your hand against his chest "Go on…"

"Did you even kiss?" Heeseung asked.

"Both of you, out. Now!" you could see Jay's authoritative tone, but with a hint of playfulness as he tried to hold back his laughter when he saw his two friends, wide-eyed, rush to close the door to the restroom and get out of there as quickly as they had entered.

He looked at you again, smiling broadly as you mirrored his smile.

"How about we go downstairs? They probably haven't even left the hall and I don't want them getting in our way again" you said.

"If you promise me we can pick up where we left off afterwards."

"When?" you turned to Jay as he picked up your things from the table, you walked to the chair on the other side of the room to get your coat.

"I think we're staying late tonight and, well, I can't let you go home alone, can I?"

"Maybe I'll skip Stella's ride" you shrugged.

"I'd love that" he smiled, moving closer and leaving a kiss on the top of your head. Handing you the cup of juice and taking the case envelope, Jay opened the door just as Heeseung and Jake were leaning over it, almost falling into the room and on top of the boss when he took a step forward.

"Jay! Y/n!" Jake greeted the two of you. Jay stared at you for a second, then looked at the two of you right in front of him.

"I'm the one who's going to kill you two" he gritted his teeth and put his hand on his waistband, where his holster would be. Jake and Heeseung didn't even want to check, just running down the corridor and shouting for Jay not to do anything. He also ran after his friends shouting a few curses, while you stayed behind to turn off the lights and close the door.

You always looked forward to leaving work, even when you were working overtime. But today, in particular, was the day you most wanted to leave in company.

You wondered how you could live so long without having Jay's lips on yours. Or how you managed to survive without feeling every touch, or how easily you woke up and went to sleep without having him in your bed?

The answers came little by little over the two months since the first kiss you two shared, in his car, when he drove you home late at night. Maybe not just a kiss and you knew Stella would freak out when you told her you had sex with Jay in the back seat of his car. But if she shared things about Heeseung and herself, it was your turn too.

You feared that things would cool down, or that you and he would feel so overwhelmed with work that you wouldn't want to keep what you were having.

No labels, not a single statement.

The most that came out of each other's mouths was "I like you, you know that?" and then a smile so silly that neither of you wanted to intensify it. For fear that everything was going so well and it could simply be ruined.

Or for you, who had never felt like this and fallen in love with someone.

"So this is what it's like to be in love?" you asked Heeseung dreamily when you were both in the break room. A week before the case you shared with Jay's department closed.

Having in-depth conversations with him was better than with Stella because with her you were a little afraid. She seemed like a protective mother and was sure to tell you all the pros and cons of being in love.

It was also difficult for Jay to know that he was in love, even more so after everything he had experienced so far.

"I don't want to hurt her" he sighed, resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes tightly.

"You won't" Jake assured his best friend "You've finally managed to fall in love again and I'm glad it's someone like you."

"Why?" he asked, looking at his best friend.

"Because she looks after you and cares" he said "And because she treats your friends well, that's enough, don't you think?"

Jay knew it was because Yuri had never been very nice to Jake. So small attitudes counted, there was no comparison between the two of you, he knew there was no reason to be afraid. But he also knew that he needed to find a moment in which he could say what he felt.

He wanted the security of knowing that you were in love too. And you wanted him to feel good and safe being around someone else after the enormous trauma he'd been through.

The two of you – without knowing it – silently shared the same care.

"Y/n, Stella" the head of the police station entered the room, dispelling your thoughts and making you focus on the gray-haired man who had just entered. You and your friend stood up, greeting the middle-aged man and smiling as kindly as he did "Are you busy?"

"Never for you, sir" Stella said with a smile.

"Good, I need you two for a day" he said, slowly shifting his gaze between you and Stella "It's a criminal case and I know Heeseung is with Jake, so you're the only two I can trust."

"Perfect, do you want it now?"

Stella's question made the boss agree, leading the two of you out of the room and towards the criminal cases department. You usually left such matters to Heeseung or even another teammate, but seeing your boss call for you and your best friend was really endearing. It meant that he trusted the two of you, chief and deputy chief, to do the job well.

The department was much bigger than the one you and Stella worked in, after all, criminal cases had a large proportion. And investigators could work in any department as long as they were asked to, as was happening now.

"We have a transcribed case and we need you two to take a look at it and try to spot something that the other investigator didn't find" the chief passed the paper to Stella, letting her read it and then pass it on to you.

As soon as she'd finished, her eyes went carefully over the document, listening attentively to her boss and best friend, punctuating a few things with the older man and hearing him agree and add more things that other policemen had discovered too.

"So we have a starting point, that's good" he said after you'd finished reading, nodding to someone behind you and beckoning you to come closer.

"Girls, this is Yuri, the one who wrote the document that you two have just read" this could only be a joke in very bad taste. But no. From the seriousness your boss presented, you knew it was strictly professional.

Stella looked at you quickly, trying not to look so shocked when she faced Yuri first. Just a nod was enough for the greeting.

You, in turn, turned slowly until you were face to face with the woman. She seemed as surprised as you were. Her mouth opened slightly in shock, but as soon as she saw your serious expression, jaw set and misty eyes, Yuri smiled.

"Hi boss. Girls" she greeted.

"Yuri, this is Stella and Y/n, the boss and deputy boss investigators I asked to read the document you wrote" he explained.

"Oh, yes. Stella is the boss" she pointed at her friend "And y/n is the deputy boss who is taking my leftovers and sleeping with my ex-boyfriend?"

"Excuse me?" you knew it was ridiculous to fight for these reasons, but hearing her swear at you gratuitously wasn't on the list of good manners you swore to uphold at work. So when you pushed her against the table as hard as you could, hearing the thud of Yuri's body in the same tone as her loud scream, you knew you were done for.

"Y/n, what's that?" your boss asked, shocked by the reaction.

Stella really was a great boss, or she tried to approach Yuri for fear that you'd end up actually hitting the woman. So she helped her up, seeing that the blow had been really hard.

"I don't tolerate disrespect, boss."

"But we don't tolerate aggression" he was shocked, but he didn't seem angry. He knew his employees so well, especially you – along with Heeseung – that it was almost impossible to see them with their faces closed.

"She won't be working on my case anymore" Yuri's voice was tearful, her eyes watery and her breathing rapid.

"Your case? I'm the deputy boss here, you self-interested bitch."

It was Yuri's turn to try to do the same to you, but Stella was already holding her back and her boss had put himself between the two of you, afraid that something else might happen.

"Stella" he called out.

"Boss" the two of you exchanged places, she held you down to get you out of there while he pulled Yuri away and tried to talk to her.

"I'll meet you in your office in five minutes" he said before your friend could get you out of that department. You felt your blood boil as you cursed Yuri one last time.

"What?" Jake felt the pillow being pressed against his face by Sunoo, listening intently to everything you had said so far.

"Jake, please" you begged, whimpering.

"She told us because if she told Heeseung, he'd scream and Jay would find out" Sunoo recalled.

That's why the three of you were in the break room on the top floor.

Your boss chose to suspend you and Yuri for two weeks. This consisted of no badges, no guns, no holsters and, above all, no going to the police station. You just had to wait for the day to end and then go home and be grounded for two weeks, as Stella said as soon as she had told the story in a more motherly way to the two boys in front of you before going to meet Heeseung and Jay.

"I just need to know what to do to tell him" you paced back and forth in the living room, on the other side of the coffee table.

"When did this happen?" Jake asked.

"Thirty or forty minutes ago, I'm not sure" you said.

"Okay, then" he straightened his arm, glancing at his wristwatch "In ten minutes or so, Jay will know and he'll be shouting down the corridors looking for you."

"Y/n" was Jay's voice. And he sounded extremely angry.

"Maybe less than ten minutes" he tried to joke about the situation, knowing that even though it wasn't funny, it made you let out a quick laugh "Right, I'm not going to let him talk to you now. That won't be good."

"Let's go outside" Sunoo ordered, getting up from the sofa along with Jake.

"Fucking hell!" Jake shouted in fright as Jay opened the door without warning "You need to tell us when you're coming in, there are people who could die of a heart attack."

Jay looked at his best friend, without really answering him, then looked at Sunoo and finally at you.

"We need to talk."

"Now?" you tried to smile, showing all your teeth as you looked at Jake for help.

"Now" he said seriously.

"You know what?" you stood behind Sunoo at all times "I promised Jake I'd help him with some papers, you know."

"Yeah, deputy boss stuff" Jake shrugged.

Jay sighed, massaging the space between his nose and eyebrow with the slight headache he was feeling.

"There's no way you can help him when you're suspended from work for two weeks" he said coldly.

Shit. It was the only quick swear word you could think of, not knowing what to say as you watched Jay ask – almost order – Jake and Sunoo to leave the room.

You wanted to go with them, almost grabbing Sunoo and running past Jay without him being able to stop you, but your two fearful friends ran out of the room and quickly closed the door.

Silence settled in as Jay continued to stand by the door, a long distance from where you were still standing by the coffee table in the break room. He looked around without looking at you for long minutes, perhaps thinking, cursing. You didn't know.

And that was making you more and more anxious. What was he going to fight you for? The fight or because you stood up to his ex? Or because you stood up to his ex by fighting in a way that resulted in your suspension?

What was Jay thinking, anyway?

As if he could read thoughts, while you were thinking about his name, that gaze finally stopped on you. It was loaded with so many things that you couldn't even decipher which was which first, but one of them was fear. Jay seemed afraid of something as he approached you in hurried, persistent steps.

As soon as he stopped right in front of you, he ran his thumb over your cheek and leaned close enough to brush his lips against your forehead.

"What…" you whispered, confused by the sudden change in his behavior.

"I wanted to scare you a little, just like Stella scared me when I found out" he said in the same tone, lowering his lips to kiss yours quickly.

You slapped his arm, causing Jay to laugh as he wrapped his arms around you and finally kissed you once more.

It was slow but intense. Every movement made you sigh against his mouth while the way Jay deepened the kiss made you even more enamored of him. Even more in love and addicted to his touches. He stopped when he needed to catch his breath, not only because he was kissing you, but also because he had run into the living room to find you.

Staying with his forehead against yours, touching the tip of your nose with his, Jay sighed.

"Suspended? Really, y/n?" the tone was playful, but at the same time scolding.

"What? Could she talk the way she talked to me?" you asked, slightly offended at still remembering what she had said.

Jay shook his head, tightening his arms even more around your waist.

"She couldn't" he replied, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He wanted to say it without having to look you in the eye, so maybe close to your ear would be a good idea, so you could hear him and he wouldn't have to interrupt "I was just afraid."

You knew him well, how strange. He really was afraid.

"Afraid of what?" you tried to get him to look at you, but every time he moved, Jay sank his face further into your neck, sniffing your skin and whimpering that he wanted to stay there.

"Afraid she'd ruin anything I was thinking of having with anyone" he said, his voice muffled because he'd kissed your skin "Afraid she'd interfere with my relationship in some way" Jay whispered, sliding his arms around your waist so that his hands could take that spot. His fingers lightly squeezed the spot as he let all the air out of his lungs, raising his head and finally facing your gaze "I was afraid she'd manage to take you away from me because…"

The intensity in your gaze and your slightly accelerated breathing indicated that you were waiting for the answer. And Jay knew it. He knew you wanted to hear it as much as he wanted to say it.

"Because I'm in love with you, y/n. And I think that finally, after finding something good in my life, I was afraid that it would ruin everything."

"Say it again" you insisted.

"What? That I'm scared?" Jay asked confused.

"That you're in love with me, idiot" you rolled your eyes, laughing along with him.

Jay moved a little closer, distributing slow kisses all over your face until he finally reached your lips.

"Me, Park Jongseong, I'm in love with you, y/n."

Your shrug was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, accompanied by a low chuckle as you slowly kissed his lips.

"Me, y/n, I'm in love with you too, Park Jongseong" you whispered against his lips, laughing even harder when he seemed to relax his whole body and drop the weight from his shoulders.

"That's so nice to hear" he said before kissing you for real.

With intensity, tongues intertwined and hands where they could hold each other. Without too much fuss because they were in the break room at the police station, and because Jay had the impression that the kiss would be interrupted at some point. He just didn't want to be so sure when he heard the door open, forcing him to separate from you quickly.

"Oh, you two are in there… Kissing" Jake shouted the last part as if he needed to say it and it was code for something.

Maybe it was, considering that Heeseung appeared soon after, along with Sunoo and Stella at the door of the room.

"Kissing means you two aren't fighting, right?" Sunoo asked. Jay looked at you and, with a mutual nod, you both agreed.

"So does that mean we can go out and celebrate y/n's suspension?" Jake hummed.

Jay gave you one more quick kiss on the lips before pulling away, putting his hands on your waist, and looking at his friends.

"Stella, are you wearing your holster?" he asked, putting his hands on his waist.

"Yes, I am" she pointed to the accessory, showing the gun stored there too.

"How many bullets do you have?"

"I think I have five left" she replied, unable to contain her laughter when Jay said it.

"Perfect, I only need three!"

"Baby…" Heeseung whined to Stella as he was the first to run, followed by Sunoo who was screaming along with Jake.

Jay passed the girl at the door without even touching the gun, only to scare them off as he ran after his friends.

"Come on, we're having dinner at the Japanese restaurant tonight" she said to you after she waited for you to approach, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you left the restroom.

For so long, neither you nor Jay thought you could find happiness inside that police station. Jay, for obvious reasons. You, for never having experienced it.

But just like work, everyday life wasn't planned at all and sometimes unforeseen events arose. Cases arriving on your desk in the middle of the day, or two or three suspects you hadn't paid attention to. Even someone with a gun in an operation that Jay was taking part in.

Or, on top of that, an unexpected love interest in the department next door.

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