#and i only have clear skin from far away if u click it you can see i added scars :D

[xiao-isms]

Hello I just recently found your Sub Xiao things and oh my god thank you for the food 😍😍 If ur taking requests, Reader with a strap on with a dildo that can vibrate, and Xiao taking it ? 👀 Multiple orgasms would be fun, but anything you write is excellent so I don’t mind where you take this 😳

— dirty.

character. xiao

content warnings. multiple orgasms, semi dirty talk, verbal humiliation, cum eating, a little bit of cross-dressing. note that reader does have a strap-on but i tried to make it as gn as possible !

word count: 1.7k words

voicemail. agshs thank u sm anon! i really liked writing this one so i hope you enjoy <3 ps sorry if the ending is rushed, i recently started uni so ive been superrr busy lately

you slid a hand up xiao’s milky thigh and underneath his blush pink pleated skirt with a mischievous grin on your lips. halting for a moment, you took the opportunity to squeeze that soft, meaty flesh that you loved so dearly, pressing wet kisses and angry red hickies across his skin. once satisfied with your work, you pull away and lift your head to look the mighty yaksha right in his now watery eyes and archons, you doubted even the lord of geo himself would believe you if you told him how pathetic his war-hardened adeptus looked at this very moment, all from a few simple touches. the sight was laughable, really; his hard cock protruded from his pretty little skirt, precum already beginning to stain the garment, accompanied by a face so flushed you swore you could see steam emerging from the top of the other's head. you grabbed the man by his chin and yanked him forward. "you're fucking disgusting." the words came out a bit harsher than intended but xiao, oh xiao, he loved it. he loved it when you made him feel absolutely deplorable; when you broke him until he felt like he couldn't be fixed. he didn't respond, just looked at you with hunger, like he was silently begging you to fuck his brains out.

you could feel a primal need rumbling from deep inside your chest. “does that turn you on?” you asked with a cheeky grin that only seemed to be getting larger by the second. the petite man whimpered in your tight hold, nodding ever so slightly but much too embarrassed to give a direct response. “how naughty of you, xiao. so shy, and yet so, so dirty.” you interlocked your lips with his, sliding your tongue in his small mouth as soon as you got the chance. it was messy and sloppy and it felt like xiao hadn’t kissed anyone a day in his life, saliva running down the sides of his pointed chin while his mouth hung open, completely pliant, but it was so hot. you were the first to pull away which only made the adeptus whine in a desperate, high-pitched voice.

“so needy,” you whispered in the shell of his ear, rubbing his sensitive sides. “you want it? you want my cock in you, pretty boy?” he makes a sound of affirmation, one that you can’t quite make out, but one nonetheless. xiao shouldn’t be acting like this, he knows he shouldn’t—he’s a yaksha, a seasoned demon slayer, and yet, whenever he’s with you like this, he just can’t seem to control himself. he thrusted his little hips into thin air with vigor in what seemed to be an attempt to get some kind of friction, something—anything—to soothe his aching, leaking dick. “ah, ah,” you hummed, gripping his waist so tightly you were both positive there would be bruises there the next morning. “the only way you’re going to cum tonight is with my cock plowing into your tiny hole.”

the way his face contorted slightly and his brows furrowed while fresh, blood-hot tears ran down his flushed cheeks only spurred you on further. you spread his legs as far as possible, yanking both his cute panties and tight skirt off, throwing it behind you without care. you haphazardly coated your fingers in saliva before inserting them inside your boy with newfound fervor, eager to fuck him until he couldn’t think straight and was unable to scream anything other than your name. he moaned and cried and whimpered as you pumped your wet digits in and out of his hole. the adeptus whined, he was so close, so close, but he desperately wanted to be good for you-- and there's hardly anything that he wouldn't do to achieve that, even if it meant holding back his own orgasm. you scissored your middle and index finger, adding a third once you were sure xiao was stretched well enough. soon, you were able to thrust your digits in back and forth freely while the other's body continuously spasmed and shook with close to unbearable pleasure.

too impatient to keep waiting to enter the small man, you pulled your fingers out entirely, the act ripping a loud wail from your lover. "wh...w-why'd you stop?" the words were slurred and almost incomprehensible—it sounded something akin to what someone drunken on sex would say, certainly not a powerful immortal such as himself. the question truly makes you wonder if he'd actually been paying attention to your previous statement or if he really was that incoherent already. how cute, you hadn't even started and here he was, a drooling, stupid mess. you didn't respond, instead opting to press your lips against his, thrusting your tongue deep into his mouth once again. whether or not he understood you before didn't matter, the night would end the same way: with xiao becoming an inchoate husk of a being, only able to give as much pleasure as he received.

quickly, you fastened the harness onto your waist, clicking the straps in place. the plastic toy connected to the o-ring of the strap-on was useful in more ways than one; you knew the both of you’d love it as soon as you saw it. slowly—or, as slowly as you could, patience thrown to the wind long ago—you slid inside of your boy with ease, his breath hitching in the most adorable ways. you smirked and wrapped your fingers around the small device that activated the dildo. “are you ready?” before the man under you had a chance to answer, you clicked the 'on' button, the sex toy whirling to life. for a second, you thought you could see hearts in xiao’s teary, amber eyes. he looked so, so beautiful like this; spreading his legs and moaning for you like a cheap hooker. nimble fingers landed on his waist once again, allowing your hips to slam against the meat of his thighs. his mouth hung agape in shock at the sudden movement, whimpers and whines spilling from those pretty, swollen lips. "a-ah! mmph, p-please go s—oh!—" the words seemed to have fallen dead on his tongue due to a particularly well aimed thrust, hurling him forward. every little movement felt so good, like he was on cloud nine, and oh god, don't even get him started on the way the pseudo cock vibrated in him, making his head go blank with overwhelming lust. he could feel that familiar heat stirring in his abdomen, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"mm, 'm gonna cum, ooh, g-gonna cum, p-please!"

with one more rough, domineering push of your hips, he came over the newly washed bed sheets. you slowly came to a stop and slipped your fingers over the head of his now softening sex, swiping away a hefty amount of your lover's seed and putting it towards his face. "open.” you demanded, inserting your moist digits in his mouth. his red, puffy lips wrapped around them, lazily licking you clean. "good boy," you praised as you pulled your fingers from him. "do you like that? you like eating your own cum like a filthy whore, hm?" he didn’t respond, apparently much too fucked out to even nod. you pulled the man’s cheeks together, leaning down and pressing the tip of your nose to his own.

“i asked you a question.”

his mouth opened slightly at the deep, commanding tone of your voice; he was trying to answer you, he was trying to be good, but his mind was so fuzzy he could hardly breathe. with much struggle, he moves his head up and back down. the action was hardly noticeable with how subtle it was, but you took pity on the poor yaksha, placing a kiss that he felt was almost too gentle considering the current situation. you heard a whimper erupt from xiao and a small, close to inaudible humming sound could be heard within the quiet room.

oh.

you had forgotten about that.

the adeptus trembled underneath your form with overstimulation. he feared he was going to cum again, untouched; he could feel it in the way his dick was beginning to harden again, the way the muscles in his stomach churned and tightened in the most delightful ways, ways that made him feel lightheaded and painfully aroused. you were silent, watching your lover’s face scrunch up with a glint of pure lust clear in your half-lidded eyes. you begin to rock your hips back and forth again, only moving a centimeter an inch this time. xiao couldn’t stop thinking about how good you felt inside him, how his slick walls clenched and unclenched around your barely moving cock, making the smallest squelching noises.

it was all so filthy.

with that thought, the warm coil in his lower body burst and he was positive that he was seeing stars from how hard he’d just orgasmed. it was ego-boosting, really, knowing that only you could touch him like this, look at him like this. you hummed, increasing the pace of your thrusts until xiao was crying and incoherent, garbled whines falling from his mouth. “s-sen—o-oh fuck!” tears clouded his vision as you abused his prostate, taking advantage of that sensitive spot inside him. with heavy breaths, you leaned down to look at him directly, the smell of sweat and sex prominent on both of your bodies. “you’re such a good boy, xiao,” you commended between grunts and quiet moans. you brushed his messy hair back so you could see the pleasure on his flushed face, planting kisses on each of his cheeks. he keened at the attention, throwing his arm over his face to hide from the embarrassment.

“you take my cock so well, such a brave boy.” you knew he loved to be showered in praise more than anything, even more than he loved to be pinned down and degraded. he felt as if he’d cum at any second, the way the silicone toy felt inside him was more than exhilarating and your occasionally words only added to that addicing feeling. nimble fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, hard and dripping precum, preparing itself for its third orgasm. you finished him off with just a few strokes, his small form twitching with overstimulation. you slowly came to a stop and cupped his red face with your hands.

“what am i ever going to do with you, baby?”

[fartpenis]

left is from a couple months ago, right is just today. been trying to practice realistic rendering and painting from reference. left makes me look 50 pounds heavier and right makes me look like an anime boy because i am

[voidcat]

characters: dazai osamu, you, fyodor dostoevsky (mentioned)

genre: bittersweet, hurt/no comfort? smt like that, my usual niche content

a/n: I think this is one of my works that’s v v open to interpretation so pls lmk what u think or what u suspect has happened ;w; also here’s a song for u!: La Fortezza Dei Grandi Perche

Crying in the shower doesn’t do wonders as people claim.

The water runs down your body, tracing your skin, leaving its trails behind and this is all fine up until so far.

Then the tears come and they don’t come at all- it feels unreal.

Mixing up with the running water that strokes your cheeks, the tears feel unreal.

The salty taste doesn’t even reach your lips, unlike that raspberry soap painting everything pink, the tears feel unreal.

It all does, at the end, all it does is feel like a half asleep dream; then you get out, dry up, maybe have a drink to pass away that feeling of thirst building up.

Crying in the shower doesn’t leave you hungry and tired like a regular crying does, and thus, it is unreal, your brain concludes.

Letting out a breath, you find yourself in a sitting position, perched over the black and white keys, the cold slowly making its way up your body.

As if both hands at your sides, holding by your arms and going up to your shoulders, the cold spreads under the fabric.

Yet it holds no competition to back when you roamed the streets of St. Petersburg– an unforgiving city, a cold that truly takes a shape and bites at your skin, sinks its teeth into your flesh.

What you feel now is merely a practiced reflex from your childhood, that shrug is just a part of the act, as if to validate the feelings of the breeze that found its way into this room.

You notice you’ve began playing only after a slight pain creeps up your limbs.

Monotonous playing, practices, to warm up, it hasn’t worked on you so far. Idly you watch your hands, how your fingers move on their own, each crawling to be set free, slithering away like some sort of pathetic insect no one wishes to gaze upon.

Look at your right hand so your left will play right, let your vision blur a little so you’ll play a little clearer.

From a distance you can hear it.

The gentle whisper of the instrument, looking for a partner.

Slow and tedious, heavy and making its impact clear, it sets in the room, on your shoulders, to the pit of your stomach- you wish to play alongside it again, just for a little longer.

One problem remains: it doesn’t exist.

You long for that cello like your entire being yearns for something.

A home perhaps.

A place of belonging.

Yearning to go back home, to the cold, to the unforgiving environment where you’ve never felt more at ease.

One stage of hypothermia means you feel warm, after all.

Up and down, move onto the next little piece. Gradually you feel your speed picking up, fastening, rushing, running.

The pain only spreads, and so does a warmth with it.

‘Slow down’ you hear your brain say and so you do, or you try, or that’s what you tell it.

It only gets faster, to the point of no control, no sync, no harmony left in the world, in your life.

With no lavenders to give you a scolding gaze, it’s easier to allow yourself to slack, to fall countless times, fall once more just as you’ve gotten up.

With no mocking smile to watch your every move, every failure and every frozen moment, somehow it feels harsher to fail.

Perhaps this is your autonome reflexes abandoning you all together, just as how you’ve been left alone in this city that feels furthest away from everything you’ve ever come to know and meet.

Crack after crack after crack, the little clicking sound leaves your joints at every movement be it small or great.

They say home is where your heart is.

Is this why you do not have one?

It all shatters when you feel a hand on your wrist, gently holding and stopping it from moving onwards.

“Careful now, or you’ll strain a joint there.”

Your body lets out a shriek at the contact- at least that is how it feels inside.

‘Go away’ comes out the words unspoken.

‘You’re not allowed to hear this’ another phrase that stays silent.

He cannot be here, he shouldn’t be here- why do they insist on not giving you an escape?

It feels like a prison if anything, with their ever-watching gazes, making everything you do real, asking you questions they all know you’ll reply with a lie.

You’d take the murdering cold over the gentle breeze of Yokohama laced with petals of sakura any day, even if just for a second.

Trade this sense of false security for one last meeting of distant eyes– and for what?

It is laughable in entirety, really.

All you can hear nowadays is an union of piano and cello nowadays, everything you play sounds dull without the cello taking that lead.

For a dance that will never occur, in an empty, poorly lighted room that no longer exists, memories that were never real in the first place.

No, all you get is a house arrest under the watch of him, of all people.

You reckon that’s why he asked to volunteer for keeping his eye on you, just to make things harder.

No, all you get is to be a pawn in this pointless game of chest that long has ceased to exist, Dazai still acting the caring man, is this his way of displaying some sort of claim?

You doubt it. He would know better than anyone that Fyodor doesn’t care about what anyone does over you, regarding you or about you.

He has never been one for petty feelings, or any emotions if you were being honest with yourself.

Yet it was still more than enough to have something that never existed, yet was allowed by him for you to play pretend, as long as it didn’t intervene with the bigger picture in any negative sense.

Oh? to hear Khachaturian fill the air once more, and swing as the glorious melody takes over the room.

“I’ll be fine.” you claim your wrist back with that.

The truth leaves your mouth for once.

He seems pleased at that.

Is it real if you only hear it inside your mind? That now carefully touching the strings, creating a brand new feeling. Do the waves need to be present in the air, spread and reach the cochlea?

All you want is to keep on playing until you cannot play pretend anymore, until your body breaks apart, your bones sticking out- ah, now that would be real, and feel the part too.

Dazai’s hand on your wrist a moment ago and now left hanging is real, his breath over your shoulder is real. It makes itself felt, processed, sensed.

Yet his affections aren’t. Neither are his actions.

Dazai himself is unreal.

Yet the ghost of hands on your waist feel real, when they shouldn’t. The steps taken back and forth, following each other’s movements…

Oh, sweet delusion, it makes the bearing a lot easier.

[twistedmusings]

How the dorm leaders react when they catch you kissing someone from their dorm [Part 2]

A/N: AND HERE IT IS! Oh my god I still can't believe I managed to get this done! I actually stayed on task! Honestly these three were probably my favourite from the original post, I've had far too much fun writing these bois.

And what can I say? Playfully flirty MC is a good MC u wu

Warnings: Heavy smooching, possessive talk, and the reader just really pushing the dorm leader's buttons~

Part 1 here!

“How dare you...?”

Vil was more than happy to be coming back to Pomefiore with all the stuff that had happened today. Classes were more annoying than usual, he had to chase Leona down to tell him to get his work done and there had been some problems in the modeling studio that caused the lights to be brighter than usual and now he had a headache that only a nap could fix.

Thing was, if he wanted to keep his schedule as tight as possible he would need to stay awake for...another 6 hours.

One good thing was waiting for him though. Rook had greeted him at the entrance and let him know that the Ramshackle prefect was in the dorm today as per his request.

Good.

This would keep him awake. He remembers promising you a lesson in proper skincare in order to remedy whatever you did once you woke up in the morning. Deep in the back of his head he remembers you telling him that you just splash cold water on your face but he preferred to think that you at least put some sort of moisturizer. Maybe.

He rushes to his room to freshen up and makes sure that he has the materials he needs. Vil had decided that his own brand of face cleansing products would be a good start for your skin. The tingles in his fingertips went ignored as he thought of you thinking about him in the morning. It wasn’t that sort of thing at all, he reminded himself. Dorm leaders were supposed to help each other out, despite how often they were at each other’s throats, and he was just fulfilling his role not just as a dorm leader but as a...friend.

Vil takes one last look at the mirror and makes his way down the row of rooms in Pomefiore to reach the Lounge, only to stop when he sees you being pulled into one of the many rooms by what was clearly a Pomefiore’s students hand.

Wait what?

It’s almost alarming how quickly he approaches the door and puts his foot in it, choosing to stay quiet as he sees that the two people in the room didn’t even bother to wonder why the door hadn’t closed all the way. The student was pressing kisses against your lips in small intervals, choosing instead to talk as you run your hands up the expensive purple robe and taking in the little designs.

“I had a new lip scrub I wanted you to try out.”

“Really? Then why aren’t we in the bathroom?"

“That’s rather forward for a dorm leader. Is everyone in Ramshackle this daring?”

Vil couldn’t even pinpoint the student’s name. That was your first offense. The only thing he remembers about him is the man’s caramel brown hair and how it contrasted beautifully against his dark skin. After that, nothing could pop into his head that would make that student even remotely interesting for you to be hanging off of him like that! Of all the people to be with, it just had to be a nameless potato, didn’t it?

The hairs at the back of his head stand up as the potato hands you what he believes to be the best lip scrub in the business, which only makes the alarms in Vil’s head go off even louder. That brand wasn’t even known for doing lip scrubs! In fact, they once put out a three in one shampoo/conditioner and the fact that the student even had that brand in the dorms and you just blatantly accepting it was your second offense.

And as much as he wanted to focus on that being the thing that truly bothered him, he felt the alarms deafening him as he saw the potato’s hands wrap around your waist as he kissed you again, your lips parting to let him inside.

He shouldn’t be looking at this, he should be leaving and just leave you to your own devices. The lesson wasn’t important, you weren’t that important to him--

Amethyst eyes widen when you tilt your head as the student starts kissing down your neck, already choosing one spot to make his own as he licks and nips at the skin while you dig your fingers into his robe.

Vil didn’t really know how to describe the sudden surge of energy that caused him to fling the door open and grab the student by the back of his robe and pull him backwards, eyes glaring at you the entire time as you whisper his name, as if suddenly remembering that you had a previous engagement before this whole ‘sticking your tongue down a Pomefiore student’s throat’’ business.

“Prefect. My room. Now.”

You put your hands up and walk out of the room without looking at him, Vil letting go of the student’s robes and walking out after you. He didn’t even need to tell him that he was in trouble, the student would realize it soon enough once Rook delivered the chores that needed to be done by tonight.

A list only that student would be getting instead of the entire dorm.

Vil closes the door of his room and turns the lock rather harshly, looking back at you sitting at the edge of his bed still staring at the window. You weren’t trying to defend yourself, you weren’t even looking at him.

“I hate to be kept waiting, Prefect. Not just that, it is extremely rude to keep someone waiting just so you can fraternize with someone in my dorm.”

No answer. He grabs his desk chair and sits down so he can face you directly.

“What made you go and pick that potato?”

“Why would that be any of your business Vil-senpai?”

It was very much his business, if you asked him. He would have been okay if it was Epel or even Rook that you had picked to make out with but he wasn’t just going to stand around and watch as one of the student’s whose name he didn’t even know threw all of his work out of the window! So he asked the question again, this time getting a chuckle as an answer which only served to upset him even more.

“Out of anyone in my dorm you could have picked, you had to go with someone who offers you such a low quality brand of lip scrub?”

“That is your problem with this? What he offered me? Me and him just started hanging out, we know nothing about each other! I just wanted to change that.”

His headache was coming back again.

Vil put hard work into everything he did. That was his work ethic and people be damned if they thought it was too much. Maybe they couldn’t handle it but they still respected it, respected his craft and the work he put into it.

So why do you, of all of his recent projects, disrespect him so blatantly?

It was clear you weren’t ready yet, Vil wasn’t done working with you yet. After doing something like this, and right inside his dorm, he knew that you had just taken all of the careful brushes and strokes he had decorated your canvas with…

And burnt it right in front of his eyes.

Which is why he didn’t necessarily feel any guilt when he grabbed your cheeks and pulled his own lipstick out of his back pocket, ignoring your protests.

“Quiet.”

He applies the shade quickly and before you have any chance to protest, pushes his lips against yours.

The kiss is anything but sweet. It’s almost punishing. Vil was reminding you that you were a work in progress. He still had so much left to teach you, so much left to work with you and if you kept rushing things you were going to make him mad. Once he was done with you, you could go about your pitiful little life and kiss whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.

A hand grasps at his wrists as you press his palms on your cheeks, your tongue gently pressing against his lips so you could slip inside--

Nevermind. This sort of impatient kissing would also have to go.

He pulls away and pushes you onto the mattress, your eyes hazy with eagerness and confusion as Vil removes his jacket and gloves and leans down to trap you below him.

“Were you this greedy with him? Did he also get this treatment from you? No, don’t answer. I fear I’ll only get angrier if you do. Now be an obedient little potato and stay still, the first thing I’ll fix is that messy kissing of yours.”

“ :( “

Snacks runs had to be the most annoying and heart pounding of his usual daily life quests. If waking up was a struggle enough, especially when no special loot such as new anime or manga was available, it was hard to complete such basic tasks without some sort of incentive.

Although Idia guessed that not dying of starvation was enough of an incentive.

He walks down the corridor of his own dorm, humming a quiet tune to himself as he looks down at all the snacks he had acquired. Which, score! They even had a limited edition chip flavor that came with the card of one of his favourite idols! It took everything in his power to not just spend all of his money on more than one bag but he had such a good day today that he knew his gacha pull luck just had to be good.

The door to a room behind him opens, Idia quickly picking up his pace and hiding behind a corner as he looks at who it could be. He isn't against anyone in his dorm but...he didn't have the means to engage in any conversation that wasn't about his current FPS game or Gakemo so--

"Thank you for the help! I thought my phone was beyond repair!"

His hands tighten around the chips pressed tight to his chest, eyes wide in surprise as he sees you stepping out of the room.

Of all people...why were you here so late?

The student laughs as he scratches the back of his head, handing you back your phone and looking away.

“No--No problem! I...I honestly didn’t think you would come to me for help. I integrated the newest magical technology on it as well as voice activated features and a--a brand new messaging app that sends messages faster!”

Idia clicked his tongue as he heard the student speak. Look at him showing off. You didn’t know that he was taking advantage of your naive mind! You didn’t know anything about magic so, of course, all those features would sound fancy!

When it was literally taking your phone and just downloading some fancy new apps on it!

Yet there you were, marveling down at it as if you had just gotten the latest version.

Well maybe he shouldn’t complain too much, even from here he could see your smile. A part of him worried that all this luck he was suddenly getting would affect the luck he would get on his chip bag but...you were worth it.

Such a rare event shouldn’t be left unnoticed.

Maybe...maybe if he stayed here you could walk by and he could open up the ‘bumping into each other late at night’ event?

“So how can I repay you? Do you need anything done?”

Idia tunes back into the conversation as he frowns, looking back at the two of you as the student looks at every single corner of the ceiling instead of looking at you.

Payment? The guy had just downloaded a couple of apps that wasn’t good enough reason to offer some sort of payment. He frowns and taps his foot impatiently as the guy stutters out a few excuses before finally giving you an answer.

“A ki--A kiss? Would that be alright?”

The Ignihyde dorm leader almost falls down as he hears that, retreating further into his corner as he glared daggers at the guy who had just dared to ask for such a bold request.

A k--kis--kiss? A kiss...from you?

This guy was starting to piss him off! He should just be content staring at you! You were a SSR character all on your own! That guy should be happy he even got to talk to you at all and shouldn’t ask for more than he was given! He already rolled for such a life changing event why would he even want more!

His eyes soften when he sees you mull it over. It was okay, you could reject him. Such a guy wouldn’t even be worthy of a kiss from you so you so all you had to do was say no! Go on, [Y/N], just reject hi--

Idia can feel his heart breaking as his muscles stop working, dropping all of his stuff on the floor with a thud as the sound echoes. Yet it went ignored, the other two people in the hallway too busy with their own activities.

When...when had you even kissed him? Idia only remembers you putting your phone away and the moment he blinked you had already pressed your lips against that other guy--!

He should be leaving, why isn’t he moving?

The student’s hand goes to your waist as you deepen it, his face turning a deep shade of red as you pull away and tap his lips.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“...y--yes..”

You were smiling and giving him such a rare, almost ultimately rare item and Idia didn’t know how long he could stare until he combusted.

So all he could do was turn around…

And run as fast as he could.

He ignored the familiar voice calling out his name, footsteps quickly following him as he started to run out of breath.

Making a poor otaku like him run, even now you were still being so cruel to him!

Idia’s door slides open as he bursts inside, ready to bury himself in his bed and never come out again--!

Only to stop when he hears you hiss in pain.

Blue eyes turn around to see your foot jammed into his doorway, not allowing the electric door to slide closed. A part of him wants to immediately go to you and ask if you were alright but he stops himself as the image of your kiss flashes through his mind again.

“[Y/N]-shi! W--What--!”

You rub at your foot and sigh, walking in with a confused look as Idia presses his back against his bookshelf. He knew it. If a SSR character could be brought to real life, this is the sort of power they would have over him.

The kind of aura you were emitting was enough for him to want to get on his knees, but he chose to remain strong.

“I was calling out to you…didn’t you hear me?”

Idia turns his head and looks at the floor, the pain still raw and emotionally taxing than what he was used to. Disappointment was one thing but heartbreak was a complete other monster!

“Shouldn’t--Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?”

He spits the word out, annoyed that a guy from his dorm could unlock...no...could get someone like you. You were open to every single activity Idia gave you, you gave him good feedback and didn’t get scared when you two disagreed on something. Every manga he gave you, you read and every anime he told you to watch, you would watch it.

You were receptive, you were attentive, you were what Idia wanted in a real life friend!

He hadn’t dared hope for more!

That still didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize when he was all by himself.

“Boyfriend…?”

You tilt your head in confusion before chuckling as you realized what had happened.

“Oh so you saw that.”

Is that all you were going to say?! You had just taken his heart and crushed it into tiny little pieces and you were just going to talk about what a pervert he was being!

Someone just KO him now, like right now!

“Yes...I saw. So what? You were just ki-kissi--doing that thing from everyone to see! So you should just go back to him instead of bullying me in my own room!”

Please just leave, he wanted to cry in peace.

Yet you stubbornly remain, just like the first time he met you.

“Idia I don’t know what crazy assumptions you are making but that guy isn’t my boyfriend.”

You put up one finger.

“He fixed my phone…”

Another one follows after.

“And he asked for a kiss for payment. Simple as that. You shouldn’t act like you caught us doing something major. It was just a kis---”

Large hands land on your shoulders as Idia now stands in front of you, head hung low as he mutters something to himself.

“Just a kiss….just a kiss.”

You jump as he gets close to your face, eyes staring at you pleadingly as he cupped your face.

“JUST A KISS? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU ARE? AN EXTRA RARE CHARACTER SUCH AS YOURSELF SHOULDN’T BE GIVING OUT SUCH RARE ITEMS LIKE THAT!”

He shakes you back and forth.

“IF YOUR KISS WAS JUST NORMAL THEN EVEN I...I COULD--”

Idia’s eyes fall on your lips, the rush of adrenaline mixed in with his built up desire for you all culminating in two choices popping up in his head. And for the first time, he knew that hesitation was not an option.

So he dives in.

His lips met yours roughly, not really moving them or anything but just pressing them against you. You put your hands gently on his chest but he takes it as a protest, which only causes him to push them onto yours even more.

This was...disastrous.

He had never kissed anyone before. How in the world did he think that he would be able to kiss you? Ah, maybe this was a dream? Right! He had just dreamed all of this up and you didn’t really force your way into his room to confront him!

His hair flares up when you cup his face, pushing him away slightly and tilting him in such a way that your lips would meet in a much softer fashion. He looks down and sees you closing your eyes, following in your footsteps and melting inside your kiss.

You both pull away slowly, Idia opening his eyes and blushing when he sees you licking your lips and sending him a teasing grin.

A rare sight...made only for him.

“I feel like I just spent all my stamina on this one event...so I don’t want to go unrewarded. Can we go further? I want to go further. What option do I have to pick for you to do that again, [Y/N]?”

“Don’t touch them.”

“YOUNG MASTER! WHERE ARE YOU!”

Malleus sighs as he looks on at the Diasmonia students gathered around the outskirts of the school, smiling as he sees Sebek directing them each and every way. Sebek really didn’t give up, did he? One of his classes had been canceled and he was eager to see the gargoyles around Ramshackle in a much better light but he figured Sebek would cause up a stir when he didn’t find him in his classroom.

As much as he appreciated him, Sebek didn’t have to walk him to every single class.

He sighs and goes deeper into the woods behind Ramshackle, the small broken path there leading him down a familiar terrain.

This is where he usually walked with you, after all.

Seeing this place in bright light was so very different. Instead of it being illuminated by his lights, the sun peeked out from over the trees and provided a sunny trail instead of the usual moonlight. He took a deep breath as he breathed in the smell of flowers all around, all of them growing wildly around him and defying any human to try and tame them.

His fingers trace some of the thorns he found on some of them, the flowers attracted to his touch and moving closer to his hands as a small vine wrapped around his finger.

All with his magic’s help after all.

This was his safe space. Malleus would come here during his first and second year and lose himself in the wilderness. In here no one would fear him. Here every single thing was responsive to his touches and even dared to touch back. Some of the wild rose bushes also reminded him of him, Malleus adding a bit more thorns around the flowers as in to emulate the very home he missed.

In this lonely place, he flourished.

But it wasn’t so lonely now, was it?

His third year had brought one big surprise. A human. A child of man who did not know who he was or what he was capable of. They looked at him as if he was just any other stranger roaming around their dorm and not the next ruler of the Valley of Thorns.

And Malleus, being the very curious person he is, found himself pulled to your inattentiveness.

He had dropped many hints that he was eager to get to know you more, relishing in the fact that you two were starting to get closer. And while he had hoped to keep his identity a secret a bit longer, he found it almost unbearable for you to not know who he was.

If you were so open with who you were, then he should show you the same kind of respect.

How wonderful that you were now on a first name basis with each other.

Malleus could walk over to Ramshackle dorm now and knock on your door without hesitation, smiling as he sees your excitement at just what places you two would discover in the dead of night.

Bummer you couldn’t be with him now.

He had seen you come out of your dorm and ask Sebek if he needed any help, to which the fae replied rather rudely that no human could ever track down his young master, so he was a bit reluctant to discover any more places without you by his side.

These walks were something you two did together, after all.

So he remained at this spot, touching everything and anything that would strike his fancy while going deeper and deeper into a small clearing you two had found. A large tree decorated its middle, the leaves falling gently upon the ground as the sun shone down on the large pond that provided this part of the forest with the water it needed to balance out the sun’s gentle rays.

“Shhhh, don’t make too much noise.”

Malleus stops as he hears your voice, his head immediately turning towards the sound as he hears rustling behind him. He smiles and turns to where he thought you were coming from only to be struck by a sudden idea--and immediately hiding among the trees and bushes so you couldn’t see him.

Would you be surprised to find him here?

He hoped so. Malleus had the habit of appearing to you suddenly so this wouldn’t be breaking any traditions between you two. If he played his cards right, you might join him on a walk all the way to the edge of the island.

“Prefect do you know where you are going?”

“I do! I’ve been here so many times. Now come on!”

Another person’s voice. No...he had heard that voice before.

Malleus retreats back into his hiding spot as he sees you rush by, holding by the hand a Diasmonia student as he rushes to follow you. You smile and turn around, still holding his hand while the other looked on in amazement at where you had led him.

“Prefect...this is…”

“Like it? Me and Malleus found it a while ago. This is how we know we are close to the edge of the forest.”

The Diasmonia dorm leader smiles as he watches you show the student around, pointing out different sights and sounds as the other watched on in amazement. That student probably had never gone anywhere this secret and while Malleus was glad you were showing off the place you two shared…

There was a feeling deep inside his chest that flared up angrily as he caught the student looking at you more than his surroundings.

Green eyes watch as the student’s hand clenches and unclenches, seemingly working up the courage to do something as you continue speaking. Which was rather rude, in Malleus’s opinion. You were explaining some wonderful things about the flora here and he was just staring at you without engaging in the conversation.

And how did you two know each other? Malleus had never mentioned you in Diasmonia except to Silver and Lilia, had he known you before him?

Malleus hands grip the tree bark tighter as the student takes your hand, stopping your explanation as he gets you to focus your attention on him.

What--?

“I’ve been eager to find some time alone with you.”

The student clears his throat before pulling you by the hand gently, your surprised look turning into one of playfulness as you follow along with his movements. He leads you to the edge of the pond, spinning you around as you allow him to position you in such a way that you are now closer to him than before.

Which only makes the angry feeling in Malleus’s gut flare up even more.

“Have you now? What for?”

An answer Malleus wanted to know as well.

Blushing, the student smiles and leads you into a dance with no music which only served to make you laugh and make Malleus’s fingers dig deep into the wood of the poor tree.

In the dragon fae’s eyes, you two are dancing for hours without caring about who was around. Why had he even brought you here? This student was part of Sebek’s surveillance crew and yet here he was not doing his job. But he wasn’t the one who brought you here…

You were.

Your actions were lost on Malleus as the dance finishes up, the student dipping you low before bringing you up.

“So you brought me here to dance? Who knew Diasmonia students were so charming.”

Malleus didn’t like the way you were smiling, nor how your hands rested on the student’s shoulders. He hadn’t seen this side of you before, you were playing along with this student and his motives.

Had you always been so playful? Malleus had only seen you during the night and whenever you two spoke it was a conversation worthy of two friends sharing experiences together.

But not this...never this…

“Well, not just a dance. I’ve wanted to state my intentions outright.”

The tree starts to crack slowly as Malleus can feel more thorns growing out of the rose bushes around him.

“Ever since you arrived, you have been an enigma to me. You are always so helpful even to those who do not seek your aid. Even now, you didn’t have to help me search for our Young Master."

He wasn’t searching for anyone, he was too close to you for Malleus’s liking and he needed to learn how to respect your boundaries.

“Yet you still offered me your help...and I…I want to...”

The student was leaning closer as his hands slid down to your waist, Malleus staring as you started to tilt your head as you placed your hands on his chest while his lips were dead set on meeting yours--!

Your face is tilted up as cold lips meet yours, your mouth opening in a surprised gasp as the hold the student had on you was no longer shy and timid but angry and possessive. These lips were pulling you in closer and closer, greedily eating each and every sound you were making as the air was slowly stolen from your lungs.

A string of saliva is left hanging as you two separate, your eyes fluttering open as you think of something to say to such a ravishing kiss.

Only for them to open wide in surprise as you see who you had really kissed.

“Malleus!?”

You turn to look behind the fae’s back, the Diasmonia student looking at his Young Master in mild panic and surprise while Malleus presses you close against his chest, clearly hiding you from view.

Right before the student even had a chance to taste your lips, Malleus had rushed out of his hiding place and pulled him away by the collar of his shirt.

For a dragon to watch on as something that was his was so close to be taken away, the surprise must have gotten to him.

“Go tell Sebek to head back to Diasmonia and call off his search. I will be there by nightfall.”

The student tries to stutter out a response but Malleus glares back as he keeps you pressed firmly against him.

“Now.”

You watch the student leave in a hurry, following the broken path you had led him in with. Your eyes peek up to look at Malleus but the dorm leader waits until the sound of footsteps is long gone before tilting your face up again and leaning down to press his lips against yours in another rough and dominating kiss.

Hands push you forward as your back collides with the huge tree in the clearing, Malleus making sure that the back of your head meets the bark gently as his lips never parted from yours. You wrap your arms around him as best as you could and let out an involuntary squeak when the fae decides to pick you up so that you could pull him in even closer.

He is the one to pull away first, hands firmly on your bottom as you wrap your legs around his waist to support yourself.

“Malleus--”

The fae presses another kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you so that all your attention would be on him.

“Don’t ever bring someone else into this place, child of man. Do I make myself clear? This place is our haven and I will not have someone else come steal both it and you away from me. Well, even if you don’t understand, I’ll make sure to explain it to you thoroughly. Now...kiss me again.”

[tojigasm]

You're Rich And I'm Wishing You Could Be My Master, Yum

Authors Note: This is the first part of my collab series with @tsundere-cherry-girl I'm sorry this took me so long to get out as I really was excited for this piece and wanted to ensure it was perfect before sharing it with you all! I will now be working on requests! enjoy our dilf king Toji, blessup.

* cw : 18+ minors dni, Daddy kink, age gap, and anxiety attacks

Word count: 14.7k

College wasn't something you enjoyed, in fact you loathed it. There was something about autumn winds and winter snow storms that no longer brought along the warm fuzzy feeling that they would have when you were younger. Now, the snow storm that had passed through overnight only reminded you of how far you were going to have to walk to your next class in the freezing cold.

You pulled your coat closer to your body, the cream corduroy acting as a soft barrier against the freezing air. Boots shuffling through the layered snow as you made your way through the peninsula of covered sidewalk, dead leaves that had fallen to the snow being kicked up; rising to the air quickly before falling onto the ice again.

Despite the fact that throughout your childhood you dreamed of college - a way to escape the bouts of teenage immaturity and transition to adulthood - a couple of years to have to yourself. But you couldn't help but be fucking irritated by the constant parties and think-with-their-dick boys who approached you after class, pawing at you and calling you sweet names with their whiny voices that pricked your ears like an icepick.

Outside of the constant nagging from boys, you did have your friends: friends that would call you in the middle of the night to ask if you wanted to go to the dorm next to yours and go party, friends that slipped you the answers to your History teacher’s exam because Mr. Yaga was a fucker who didn’t care if you passed or failed.

Outside of school ruining your life, you had your friends and your friend group was interesting to say the least: there was Megumi, your best friend, who would approach every situation with the least amount of worry - no matter how unprepared he might be and always end up fine in the end. Then there was Itadori, who was late to every single class, a head full of dishelved hair that would shake in shame as your professor scolded him for the upteenth time that week. And then there was Nobara, who was your roommate but spent more time out with at parties than actually in the dorm. Thankfully, all four of you had become close throughout the first hellish year of college, being there for one another when need be.

It was finals week, your schedule was filled to the brim with studying and back to back classes that would determine your grades for the end of the semester. Long nights in the main library and in your dorm resulted in early coffees and shaking fingers as you worked out the answers to your exams.

You hurried to your last class, holding your textbooks and folders closer to your chest, boots skipping up the steps to the door, black letters on the textured glass read ‘Professor Nanami’.

Once inside, you hurried to your seat next to Megumi who was rereading some of his notes, his head turning to you when you sat down and began to pull out your notes randomly.

“Are you serious?” Megumi asked, deadpanning at your mess of scrambled notes and chicken scratched papers.

You gave him a sheepish smile before pointing a finger at him, “Hey! I made it before Itadori, and that’s saying something!”

Megumi chuckled lightly and went back to his notes, highlighting a few things “So… have you decided whether or not you're gonna stay at my place for winter break?”

Your eyes widened. Shit! you forgot about that!

“Uhm… are you sure you’re okay with me coming, I don’t wanna feel like I’m intruding on your break, let alone your family.” You clicked your pen nervously and bit the plush of your bottom lip.

Megumi gave a fake look of shock “No, you’re all good, I want you to come!” he reassured and then went back to writing.

You thought it over for a second, eyes dashing from the scattered and scribbled papers on the table and back to Megumi “Then I’ll go, it sounds exciting!” You smiled widely and Megumi nodded, opening his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by your professor, clapping loudly from the desk at the bottom of the auditorium.

“Alright, as you all know this is your final for the semester, determining whether or not you’ll pass my class.” he took a moment to shuffle the stack of papers, collecting them together. “Do your best, and once you’re finished, you’re free to go.”

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves.

Your professor walked up and down the carpeted steps, placing blank tests down and continuing down the aisle to the next row of students.

Your palms were clammy and your skin pricked with beads of sweat, your turtleneck began to stick to your soft skin.

The atmosphere of the classroom did nothing to relieve your stress, the humming of the heater causing a persistent ache in your head, pulling at the strings of your mind as you tried to think over all the information you had spent the past week and full 12 hours reviewing. A blank test was placed on your desk and you inhaled deeply, looking over the first question and picking up your pencil before circling ‘A’.

Walking out the door and into the snow, books held to your chest, you turned to Megumi before heading in the direction of your dorm.

“So what time are you planning on leaving?” You asked, jutting your hip out to stand more comfortably, snow crunching under your heavy fur boots.

Megumi always stood so perfectly still, even when talking - when you had first became friends it was off putting, making you think he was uncomfortable in your presence, only when the two of you became closer - basically best friends, did u realize that Megumi did some pretty odd things, that being one of them.

“I was gonna head up around like eightish maybe?” Megumi looked up to the sky as though he were in deep thought,” I can drive us both if you want.” He offered, hand gesturing to you.

You shook your head and placed a mittened hand out to stop him, “No, it’s okay, you can just drop by my dorm once you’re ready and I can follow you.” You smiled.

Megumi nodded and then looked away towards his dorm.

“Alright, well, make sure you pack for at least a week and half’s stay, wouldn’t want you to not have something to wear.” he joked, kicking the ground a bit, dragging his shoes through the snow aimlessly as if he were drawing something.

You shook your head and laughed, “I will,” you sighed deeply and clicked your tongue, your shoulders falling gently, “well, I gotta get going, I’ll see you at eight then?” you began to walk backwards, the snow squealing under your boots.

“On the dot.” Megumi concluded and turned, walking through the deep snow on his way back to his dorm.

The next morning when you woke you felt refreshed, your face felt soft and your muscles were relaxed, little to no cramps as the contrast to how the week of finals had treated your body - the overwhelming stress not giving you a minute to relax.

You took a shower and got dressed, putting on your favorite fur jacket over a hoodie along with a pair of baggy jeans. You took one final look in the mirror before checking your suitcase once more, making sure you had everything packed.

Toothbrush, check. Hairbrush, check. Tampons, check. Phone charger, check…

You continued down the checklist of items, failing to hear Nobara enter the room. She had a coffee and muffin in one hand and her purple-bubble thick cased phone in the other.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” she quirked an eyebrow, clearly wanting you to elaborate on where you were going. Nobara was always like that, she felt like more of an aunt at times than an actual friend.

You turned your head to look at her, “Don’t get too excited now, I’ll be back when school starts up again.” You smiled and turned back to your open bag.

Nobara didn't say anything, opting to take a small bite out of the muffin and a sip from the straw of her drink before swallowing loudly.

“A-are you going to your parents place?” She still stood in the hallway, leaned against the wall, she bent over a tad as she continued to look at you, eyebrow pulled into a tight arch.

You stopped zipping your suitcase up to take a deep breath, voice becoming stuck in your throat and tears building up in your downcast eyes.

“N-no, uhm actually,” You cleared your throat, shaking your head slightly, “I’m actually going out of town to stay with Megumi, he invited me to stay with his family for break.” you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and placed it onto the ground, pulling the handle all the way up.

“Hey, you okay?” Nobara asked, walking up to you and chucking her phone onto her bed, the case causing the phone to bounce in the process.

You nodded and smiled, you knew she was looking out for you, aware of the issues you’d had with your father in the past, but that didn’t make the mere thought of your relationship with your father any easier to think about.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just nervous.” You gave a weak smile and grabbed your phone from your nightstand, slipping it into your coat pocket.

“Awh, you’ll have tons of fun, I’m sure Megumi will do a great job making you feel right at home!” She smiled and her hair shook as her head lifted in excitement.

You nodded again and smiled at her warmly, reaching to grab the handle of your bag, “Alright, well, I’m off - I’ll see you again soon.”

Nobara nodded and followed you out of the doorway. The two of you said your goodbyes and you made your way down the hall, fur boots clumping on the carpeted ground.

“Wait!” Nobara’s voice stopped you, making you turn to look at her, one hand in your coat pocket.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“You got everything? Like, all your girl stuff and everything?” she kept a hand on the door handle, the other on the wall.

You smiled at her and nodded, “Yeah, I've got everything.” You then waved to her and continued to make your way to the elevator.

Once outside you shivered as the wind hit your face, biting your skin as you made your way down the snow covered steps and onto the pavement. Megumi was waiting at the curb, leaning against his black Mercedes, dressed in a Louis Vuitton coat, arms crossed and looking to the side.

You always wondered where he got the money for all of the expensive things he bought: his cars, his shoes - being his best friend, you didn't feel comfortable asking, but now that you were being introduced to his family, you realized that the possibility of his family being just that rich never actually occurred to you.

“Hey Gumi!” You waved, pulling your suitcase through the snow behind you.

“Hey,” He turned to you and smiled, “You need help taking that to your car?” he asked, flipping his keys absentmindedly

“No, I'm all good, you wanna just meet me in the parking lot?” you gestured to the lot at the side of your dorm.

“Yeah sure.”

The ride to the cabin was fairly smooth, most of it being a fast trip on the freeway until you followed Megumi’s black Mercedes down an off ramp and into a new town.

You took the time at each stop light to look around, making note of the winter decorations parading the streets. The clouds covering the sky gave the town’s look a picturesque holiday aura to it.

Music played through your speakers as you followed Megumi throughout the town, the road soon became flat and desolate for a few miles before his car came to the start of a small trail.

The tires of your car grumbled over the gravel, rocking your car side to side as you drove down the pine covered road. The trees created an atmosphere that felt almost - in no other words to describe it - home.

You could see mountains to the left of you, sun glittering against the snow, you could smell the pine wafting through the ventilation of your car, relaxing your nerves and washing over your senses greedily.

The road seemed to go on forever, not that you were complaining, the surrounding forest made you feel as though you were stuck in a perfect place in time, nature in its purest form, no city lights, no roads, no cars, just the soothing smell of pine and the occasional cry from a bird.

Megumi’s car took a right and suddenly the ground became smoother, the rocks becoming a makeshift driveway where a Black Ford F150 was parked next to a tan Rolls Royce in front of cobblestone steps that lead up to the chestnut red door of the prodigious house you assumed was the “cabin” Megumi had told you about. The two of you obviously had different ideas of what a “cabin” was. This was a multi million dollar house at least, you wouldn't be surprised if his parents owned the place...scratch that. They definitely owned it.

Megumi parked his car next to the tan Rolls Royce and stepped out, walking over to your car. You rolled your window down to which he bent over and leaned his crossed arms against it, ducking his head to look at you.

“You can park next to my dad’s truck if you want.” He tilted his head and threw his thumb back to point at the giant F150.

“Okay, thankyou.” you let Megumi step back and rolled up your window before pulling into the parking spot.

You stepped out and went to the backseat of your car, pulling out your bag and your blanket before rounding the car to where Megumi was still removing his bags, two Louis Vuitton duffle bags were sat on the sanded down gravel, dirt already seeping into the leather and fabric.

“Your family knows I'm coming… right?” You chuckled nervously, watching Megumi continue to sift through the many expensive bags in his trunk.

“Of course, I’ve told them all about you. Trust me, they’ll adore you.”

You almost cried at that. What had Megumi told them? what if he was lying and they actually were just allowing you to stay out of pity, what if Megumi had actually told them something terrible about you and you weren’t even there to defend yourself.

You felt bad, knowing Megumi would never talk so horibily about you; The two of you were best friends. You just still couldn't help the metaphorical vomit that filled your brain to it’s brim, threatening to spill from your lips until you convinced Megumi you wanted to go home, spilled over until the words became tears because you couldn’t even fathom the idea of Megumi’s family not liking you.

“Are you ready to go?” Megumi stood with two duffle bags in one hand and another thrown over his shoulder.

Nodding, you let Megumi pass you and followed him up to the front of the red painted door. The wood had been furnished and was well kept, obviously polished regularly.

Megumi raised his fist and knocked on the peppermint red wood, a soft rapping filling your ears.

The door opened to reveal a young woman in red bottom snake heels and a cream sweater, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail.

“Hi ‘Gumi!” She smiled happily, her eyes squeezing shut as her arms crushed him in a tight hug before parting and looking him up and down. “My goodness, you’re so much taller than last time I saw you.” Megumi grumbled and she giggled, petting his shoulder lightly.

Suddenly she turned to you, “Oh hi! You must be y/n, Megumi has told me all about you.” She went to grab your mitten covered hands in her own, “Please come in, you must be freezing.” She stepped to the side and placed a hand on your back to guide you inside.

The three of you walked down the wood paneled hall, the walls were decorated with wreaths and cute accessories for the holidays.

“My name is Tsumiki by the way.” She smiled at you again, leading you into the living room, her heels clicking against the floor.

Once you entered the living room you immediately felt out of place - well, more than you felt already, if even possible; a flat screen TV sat was built into the flat wooden wall, a huge leather couch was placed in the middle of the room, double doors leading to a balcony were opened, the sound of birds and creaking wood echoing throughout the home.

The smell of sugar made you turn your head in the direction of what you assumed was the kitchen, the heaviness of it making you close your eyes and hum.

Tsumiki giggled, “I’m making a pie, it should be done before dinner if you two wanna go get settled down and unpack.”

Megumi nodded and took your arm in his hand, pulling you down the next hallway as you said a quick “Thankyou!” before you were out of range.

Megumi pulled you along to a crème covered carpet staircase, climbing the steps with one hand on the rail and the other still on your arm.

Once you made it upstairs, you came into another hallway; a chandelier illuminating the white thicket walls. Four doors were on either side of the hall leading to two large pearl French doors that sat at the very end.

“My dad’s room is the room at the end, Tsumiki sleeps in the room closest to the bathroom ‘cus she always has to pee, I usually take the room farthest from my dad’s just ‘cus.” Megumi informed you. You nodded at his words before it dawned on you that you would be the one sleeping closest to his dad - someone who you had yet to meet and someone who quite frankly, intimidated you.

“You can take the room I usually sleep in if you want.” Megumi tilted his head to see your nervous expression.

“No!” You cleared your throat, “It’s- it’s just, it doesn’t really matter to me, I’m fine either way.”

“M’kay.” Megumi walked to his door and opened it, standing outside until you entered your own, “I’ll get you when dinner’s ready.”

You nodded and walked into the bedroom, met with a king sized bed and glass panel door that led to a balcony. The walls were a grey color, decorated with simple objects and pictures of the surrounding mountains. The room smelled of lavender and vanilla, painting a clear picture of the woodland surrounding you.

Placing your suitcase onto the bed you began unpack; putting your folded clothes into the auburn dresser and closet, placing your shoes at the bottom of the wardrobe. Deciding to keep your toiletries in your room, you put them on the vanity seat beside the glass sliding door.

Once you had everything put away you grabbed your phone and sent a quick text to Nobara, informing her you’d made it, to which she replied with a ‘Good to hear, can’t wait for you to come back, miss you already! xoxo’

You smiled and put your phone down, getting ready to move some things around when a knock came from your door. You opened the heavy door to come face to face with Megumi who had changed into a navy sweatshirt.

“Dinner’s ready.” he informed you and you smiled, nodding as you followed him down the staircase and back through the hallways into the dining room. The walls were plastered with gold and black trim, decorating the thicket walls; a candled chandelier illuminated the room in a calm light.

“Hi there!” Tsumiki waved as she placed a basket of bread rolls onto the table, “you can sit wherever you’d like.” You took a seat next to Megumi, the cushioned chairs adding a soft touch to your nervousness.

As Tsumiki sat down she opened her mouth to ask a question when the sound of a door shutting made you jump, looking towards the hallway to see a tall raven haired man round the corner, dressed in tightly fit black shirt and baggy jeans, his timbs pounding the polished floors.

“What’s for dinner?” His gruff voice immediately made your legs tense. It screamed authority and discipline - the voice of a parent, a father who was stern but rewarded good behavior. The man took a seat at the end of the table and looked at you, his eyebrow raising.

“Who’s this?” he didn't speak to you, opting to talk to his son.

Megumi took a bite of his food and looked at his father, rolling his eyes, “Her name is y/n, I told you she was coming.”

You felt almost helpless not being able to speak for yourself in front of the man of the house. You couldn't deny Megumi’s father was attractive, a part of you embarrassed that you couldn't even make eye contact with the man, afraid that if you did, he’d surely know you were crushing like a schoolgirl on the father of your best friend.

“Oh yeah, nice to meet you, y/n.” He nodded in acknowledgment and began eating.

Tsumiki made small talk, making sure to involve you in all the conversations: asking about your school work, which major you were studying, your plans for the future.

You answered each honestly, explaining why you were interested in your major, why you chose the same college Megumi attended and how you planned to succeed in the workplace you were working towards being in.

Toji had leaned back in his chair at some point, his arms folded beneath his head as he listened to you ramble on about how important school was and your eagerness to be introduced into an industry such as the one you were interested in. It was cute.

Tsumiki listened attentively, asking questions and nodding her head in agreeance whenever you said something. “That's really cool, y/n, I believe you’d be a good addition to any team that hired you, you’re a smart girl and a hardworking one at that.” Tsumiki interrupted herself to gasp lightly, turning to her father. “Come to think of it, dad, didn’t you do some work in that major?” she swallowed, “I could’ve sworn I remember you talking about it.”

You looked to Toji, only to meet his eyes and immediately look at your lap; he looked almost bored - eyes lidded and plump lips resting against each other, the pinkness of them only becoming a darker color, your eyes traced of the scar that was ingrained in his skin.

Toji laughed at your quick shift of focus, taking a hand out from behind his head to scratch at his chest, the fabric of his shirt sliding over his pecs as he did so. “It’s okay, kid. You can look at me - I don't bite.” you gulped at that, if there was any questioning of your attraction to the man, the way his biceps bulged at his shirt as he spoke assured that you were swooning for the older man.

“But, Yeah, I did.” He said flatley, watching you with squinted eyes. There was a moment of silence before Toji stuck his tongue into his cheek and looked down at his finished plate before moving his hands back down to the table resting his elbows against the cotton of the tablecloth.

“Gojou still working there?” He asked, reaching towards the glass cup of toothpicks and inserting one between his teeth.

You gulped sighly and nodded “Y-yeah, he is.” You felt as though you needed to speak with your head down - a primal dominance encouraging you to not make eye contact out of respect, his blue eyes pierced your own as he brought his tongue out to lick the scar on his lip.

You could’ve sworn you died right there and then; something about the oh-so-innocent yet so aware action he pulled by simply flicking his soft tongue along the line of the dark scar made your knees weak, your thighs squeezing together, your shoes toeing at each other nervously.

“He’s a dick.” Toji stated.

“Yeah-” you laughed a bit. “Yeah, he is.”

Once dinner was finished and you and Tsumiki had cleaned the china plates until your fingers pruned, scrubbing the soft sponge across the glass plates gently. When the plates were all put away, you fled to your room.

You had spent what had been at least thirty minutes with your soft hand between your legs, rubbing furiously at your clit, replaying the image of Toji sliding his tongue over the dark line of his scar - pretending it was your plush legs he was kissing instead.

A part of you wished he could hear you through the smokey colored walls, entertaining the idea that he was just as perverted as you, jacking himself off to your soft moans and imagining that he too wished he was with you too. The thoughts themselves brought you to an orgasm; pushing a satin pillow onto your face, you moaned, deep and shaikly, feeling your stomach tighten.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming.” You wined, rubbing circles around the small bundle of nerves until your legs tensed and chills ran down your spine when your orgasm washed over you.

You pulled the pillow off your face to inhale deeply, pulling your fingers from between your legs, looking at your soaked fingers, embarrassment flooding your body as you stared at the proof of how long you had been jacking it to your best friend's dad.

A wash of realization hit your brain when you remembered where you were, whose house you were in and who was sleeping in the rooms on either side of you.

Oh god. You slapped your hand to your forehead, immiedialtey praying to god that your wishes for Toji to hear your soft moans and supple sighs hadn’t been answered.

Getting out of the tall bed, your feet hit the cold floor and you shivered, padding your way to the door of your room, you stepped out and made your way into the bathroom across the hall.

Once inside, you washed your hands, lathering a generous amount of foamed soap that read ‘Winter Candy Apple’ and was wrapped in a sparkly red plastic that slid against your fingers as you sat the bottle back down onto the granite countertop.

Toji was laid back against the expensive furs of his queen bed, fisting his cock furiously to the sound of your moans, sweat beading in small drops on his firm chest.

“Gah -fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” he threw his head back, his hair sprawling behind his head and he hissed, cum spurting onto his hand and abdomen.

“Ohhhh shiiit.” he groaned, voice shaky.

Toji pnated in the mess of blankets and crumpled satin sheets, staring up at the cream colored ceiling, chest heaving.

His blue eyes tracing the iron lines of the gray barn liam chandelier, Toji felt dirty, jerking his dick to his son's best friend. He scoffed, “what the hell?” Toji took another shaky breath and ran his hands over his face before sitting up and pulling his boxers up over his waist and walking into his adjoined bathroom.

The fluorescent lights created a flaxen glow against the white walls and black mineral countertop. Grabbing a small towel from beneath the counter he placed it under the sink’s faucet and wiped down his abdomen, sighing as he chucked the soiled towel into the hamper and walking back into his bedroom.

Toji walked to his dresser and pulled out a white tshirt before heading to the door that connected his bedroom to the hallway.

Walking out into the hall Toji scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the carpeted floor, his eyes tired and adjusting to the dark of the hallway when suddenly something - someone bumped into his chest making him reach his hands out to steady the person he hit.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You whisper yelled and gripped onto his forearms.

Toji squinted to see your features outlined in the dark, “Oh, hey kid, what’re you doin’ up?” He took his hands off your shoulders and yawned dramatically, bringing a hand to cover his mouth.

“Sorry, I just needed to use the restroom.” you told him, eyes meeting his sapphire ones.

He nodded, “You wanna come downstairs? I’m gonna get some coffee.” Toji walked past you.

You listened to the stairs creak as he made his way down the steps, “yes!” you whispered yelled again, being met with a light chuckle from the bottom of the steps.

Following Toji throughout the massive cabin you reached the kitchen where Toji had you sit at the bar. He stood at the opposite side of the island, pouring a pot that had been put out by Tsumiki earlier than night, aware of her father’s habit to wake up and come to the kitchen searching for something to drink and calm his nerves.

Your eyes followed Toji’s movements, his arms flexing as he placed the pot down and pulled out a packet of sugar, ripping the paper and pouring the bag into the cup before grabbing a spoon and mixing the drink together.

“You want something sweetie?” Toji placed the spoon into his mouth and looked up to meet your eyes.

Your face felt warm as you watched him gently suck on the spoon, “u-uhm, no, I’m okay, thank you.” You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin and stopping your knees.

Toji offered a slight ‘tch’ and walked towards the sliding glass door, pulling it open and stepping out onto the balcony, letting snow-chilled air fill the room.

You didn't know what to do, too nervous to ask if you could follow but too shy to stay behind and sit awkwardly until Megumi’s father decided to come back into the warmth of the cabin. Stepping off the bar stool you slipped on a pair of slippers you had left at the door and walked out onto the patio, making your way over to where Toji stood.

He was bent over the wooden terrace, leg crossed over another as he looked out at the moonlit forest. You walked up beside him and mimicked his position. He side eyed you and chuckled lightly, noticing the repeated movements of his own. He turned around and leaned his back against the terrace, wondering if you’d follow.

You stayed in Toji’s original position.

“It’s pretty right?” Toji stated, nodding his head towards the pine trees and snow covered ground.

You nodded and began to pick at the wood of the terrace, sniffling as the wind tickled goosebumps up your arms and legs. “It really is.”

Toji huffed in aggreence and turned back to lean on his forearms again, taking a sip of his coffee, the steam from the cup swirling in the air like a growing cloud of fire, eating away at the air in a grey mass.

Toji sensed your nervousness and laughed a bit before scooting closer to you and pointing towards a small tire swing, nearly covered completely by the snow, only a sliver of rusted rubber still visible. “When I was younger, around ten or eleven, I used to swing on that thing everytime my parents drove me up here, and broke my arm on it once too.” He laughed at the memory and took another sip.

You laughed and leaned over the ledge a tad as you tried to imagine Megumi’s father as anything but a father at sometime in his life. Fully believing that he’d been born a father and stayed that way for the past thirty-five years if he had told you that. Maybe he looked like Megumi… possibly Tsumiki, she has his nose-

“Megumi broke his arm on it too, I think it’s cursed.” He joked and you looked at him in question.

“Really? He never told me that.” you sounded disappointed, almost as if Megumi had hid something from you - logically, you knew he hadn’t but in the past thirty minutes, Toji had shared more memories of his own childhood with you than Megumi ever had in your three years of knowing him.

“Are you ready for ice skating tomorrow? There's a lake in the woods that we go down to every year.” he asked

You did remember Megumi mentioning a lake… now that you thought about it, you didn't have any skates.

“I don’t have any skates…”

“You can have a pair of Tsumiki’s, she’s got like six different colors.” He rolled his eyes at his daughter’s adoration for fancy colors and need for fashion.

You giggled at that to which Toji smiled. ‘I don't know how to skate either, haha.” you ran your hands up and down your arms trying to stay warm.

Toji lifted an eyebrow at that, adjusting to lean on his elbow that held the cup of now-cooled-down coffee. “You serious?” He took another sip.

You met his eyes for a split second before looking at the balcony terrace again, “Yeah.”

Toji gave a ‘hmph’ in surprise, tilting his head as he downed the rest of his coffee. “I’ll teach you.” he stated, giving you no room to refuse his offer.

“Okay.” you smiled.

The two of you entered the cabin a few minutes later and Toji sent you up to bed with a hug, following behind you as you made your way back up the stairs and into your room.

“Night, Mr. Fushiguro.” You stood in the doorway of your bedroom.

“Night, brat.” He smirked and waited for you to enter your room and shut the door before retreating to his own room and falling back onto the bed, eyes searching for something to focus on as he forced himself to sleep. His eyes decided on the iron of the chandelier again, tracing the intricate lines and candle holders as he fell asleep, the smell of your shampoo and memory of your moans filling his senses.

As you lay in bed, you stared at the ceiling; thinking of how you’d ask Tsumiki to borrow a pair of skis, what you’d wear, and how you’d have Megumi teach you how to ice skate without embarrassing yourself. Wait no. Toji was going to teach you. Your eyes slowly begin to close, your body sleep deprived and too exhausted from the long drive and late talk with Toji to question why he offered to teach you rather than have his son.

The next morning was far more relaxed than the evening before, you helped Tsumiki make breakfast, whisking eggs as Toji made his way into the kitchen.

“Well aren’t you two cute.” he teased and tousled his hair a bit.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, “It’s almost done if you wanna get Megumi.” You said, choosing to watch the basking of the eggs rather than make eye contact with the taller man.

Toji laughed and walking over to the coffee pot you had refilled, pouring himself a cup of it and adding a packet of sugar. He made his way over to the bar and sat on one of the stools, his chin resting in his palms as we watched the two of you work.

He felt like he had a family back. It was a horrible thing, truly, to seek comfort in the young girl who Megumi had introduced as his friend. But Toji wanted you, and whatever Toji wanted, Toji fucking got.

A plate was placed in front of him by a pair of small hands, he looked at you and smiled, placing a hand on your head and scratching your scalp as he tousled your hair “Thanks.”

You nodded and went back to the other pre-made plates. You placed another next to Toji for Megumi.

Toji internally groaned, he wanted you to sit next to him.

“I’ll go get Megumi.” You left the kitchen and Tsumiki siad a quick ‘Okay!’ before turning to her father who was devouring the food you’d cooked.

Toji could feel his daughter’s eyes on him, looking up from his meal to stare blankly “What?”

Tsumiki rolled her eyes and turned back to her own plate of sugar covered pancakes, decorated with strawberries and whip cream. “I see the way you look at her dad. She’s in college and you’ve barely known her for a whole day!” She exclaimed.

Toji simply shrugged his shoulders at her input and continued to eat, taking another bite of eggs, “You’re gonna give her a pair of skates for when we go to the lake today.”

Tsumiki nodded and picked up her plate, walking past him to sit at the table, placing a hand on his shoulder “Dad.” she pleaded

Toji lifted an eyebrow “I’m not gonna do anything.” He put his hands in mock defense to which Tsumiki gave a ‘really?’ look at and sighed, walking over to the table and taking a seat.

Only a minute later you came down with a sleepy Megumi following behind, rubbing his eyes and tripping over his feet. “Morning.” he said groggily, taking the seat next to his dad and digging into his breakfast.

Toji ruffled his pointed hair and laughed as the raven strands bent for half a second and then bounced back up into their original place.

You sat at the table with Tsumiki, watching the quiet scene unfold, smiling warmly at the interaction. The father-son interaction brought you to think of your own father, your thoughts scrambling to find a moment in your life where he was as soft with you as Toji was with his own children.

“You guys excited to go skating later?” Toji turned in his chair, looking at you Tsumiki.

You nodded, mouth full. Wiping your mouth you nodded again, “I am, Mr. Fushiguro. I’m very excited.”

Toji’s heart warmed at your tired voice, feeling a little guilty for keeping you up outside in the cold for as long as he did. He crossed his arms over the back of the stool and watched you eat, “I can take y/n in my truck if you two wanna take the Royce.” Toji stated more than asked.

Megumi shrugged at that, not really caring who he went with but still concerned about how you’d feel being all alone with his father, He was fine with driving with his sister but Megumi knew his dad’s truck had enough seats for all of you. “y/n are you okay with that?” Megumi turned to you.

You felt embarrassed as all eyes were on you, “I’m okay with that.” you smiled at Megumi, slowly turning your head towards Toji, reassuring him with a smile.

He smirked and stepped off the stool, stretching his arms over his shoulders, his shirt riding up past his navel. “Alright, I’m gonna go get dressed.” he made his way through the kitchen and into the hall before turning back and looking at you “y/n, wear something warm ‘mkay?” He said and walked off.

Tsumiki rolled her eyes at his request “Don’t mind him, it’s just his dad shit telling him to be all parental, wear whatever you want.” She said.

You smiled at her before dragging your finger through the leftover whip cream on your plate, bringing your finger to your lips and sucking on it gently. It felt nice to be dotted on, to be worried about, to be worried about by a father. As you made your way to your room and got dressed, pulling on a hooded mink fur jacket, like Toji told you to do; You twirled in your mirror, picking up one foot cutely, watching the strings of your furry moon boots dangle.

A knock came from your door before Megumi entered the room, dressed in a luxury white fur coat, the hem running to his jean clad knees. “You almost ready? Tsumiki put your skis in my dad’s truck already, she guessed your size.” you laughed at that.

“I’m sure they’ll fit.” you picked up your phone and slipped it into your pocket and followed Megumi down the carpet steps. Once outside you stepped onto the gravel and over to Toji’s truck where he stood, resting against the tailgate with his arms crossed; the denim of his jacket stretching over the bulkiness of his arms - drool pooling in your mouth at the sight.

“You ready kid?” Toji stepped out, timbs crunching the gravel beneath him.

You nodded and watched Megumi walk past you and open the door to Royce, “We’ll meet you there right?” he said, hand on the door. Toji gave a thumbs up before walking up to your side of the truck; Tsumiki pulled out beside him as he did so.

“Be careful on the road, dad, she doesn't need to be subjected to your psychopathic driving skills.” She narrowed her eyes only to soften them when she saw you, “Don’t worry, baby, I’m sure he’ll keep you safe - something about Tsumiki’s insignificant promise that her father would protect you made your knees weak - It’s only about a thirty minute drive, we can get lunch after too.” She then left, wheels rumbling over the gravel as the car rounded the corner; Leaving you and Toji alone.

“C’mere baby,” He motioned for you. You walked up to the passenger side, Toji standing with the door open, hand on his hip. “You ready?” you nodded and he placed his hands on your hips, your smaller ones grasping his forearms in shock, placing you in the seat he then squeezed your thigh gently, “Good girl.” he shut the door.

You were gonna die right then and there. Jesus Christ you were going to die and Toji-Fucking-Fushiguro and his deep voice and big hands were going to be the reason Megumi would find you dead in the passanger seat of his father’s car.

The sound of the driver’s side door opening made you turn your head, watching Toji step into the truck with ease and push the start button, the car rumbling as it turned on and warm air ran over your skin. The contrast between the cold air and the heated car made you shiver.

The ride was silent as the truck rocked back and forth over larger rocks in the road, Toji had some music playing at you watched the mountain range, making note of how it must've snowed last night as there was visibily more white frosted trees and the mountain seemed to hide all the dark toothpick looking trees from across the valley.

“When I was younger, my dad took me up here with my friends,” he paused as you turned to him, waiting for him to continue in complex adoreness. Toji felt his hands grip the leather wheel with his left hand, his right folding into a fist on the compartment piece in between the two of you; his mind begging him, demanding him to reach out to you and hold you, hold your thigh, your hands, anything to touch you.

He cleared his throat and continued “I took his pickup out to go get drinks with my friends and slid on black ice, we jumped out in time but the truck went down this lil’ valley, thought I was gonna die.”

You felt your shoulders release - aware that Toji had survived since he was literally driving you down the same road he nearly died on before you were even born. But a part of you made you relieved to know that he hadn’t slipped down the icy mountain and met an evil demise brought to him by the reigns of teenage boy stupidity.

“You were okay though right?” your eyes wide with worry

Toji laughed at your shocked expression, the thought that you asked if he was okay, the thought that you were worried about him made his heart swell. He loved the way you made him feel and simuloutansley hated it. Knowing you’d almost never reciprocate the same feelings he had.

“Yeah honey, I was okay.” He ruffled your hair teasingly before grabbing the back of your hood and pulling it up and over your head, covering your eyes.

“Hey!” You moved the hood from your head and hit his arm, he jumped back and put his hands up in mock defense, laughing heartily.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He laughed and turned back to the road.

You gave a ‘Hmph’, crossing your arms dramatically.

A hand was placed on your thigh gently, squeezing at the plush of your thigh through your pants. Turning your head you met his eyes, the car slowing down, his focus now on you. Toji shifted a small bit, moving closer to you, his grip on your thigh growing tighter.

The air suddenly seemed thinner, your lungs scrambling to find breath in such a quiet and intimate moment. Your best friend's father had his hand holding your thigh, your best friend’s hot, older dad had his giant, rough hand holding your thigh - holding you.

You exhaled shakily, almost embarrassed to meet his eyes.

“Hey” placing the hand that was on your thigh to your cheek, stroking your cheek gently.

“Hi” you whispered, toji smiled at your voice, god he was whipped and he’d only known you for seventeen hours.

Leaning in, he watched your plump lips part, his face was so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You’re so pretty, baby.” he whispered, thumb coming up to rest on your bottom lip and pulling it downwards.

Heat went straight to your pussy, your thighs clenching together as toji brought his lips to your own. His hand went to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he ran his tongue over your teeth. You moaned into the kiss and brought a hand to his arm, rubbing his skin softly.

Toji groaned, pulling away from you and shifting the gear of the truck into park and reaching over you with both hands, cupping your face to his. Toji inhaled deeply through his nose, pulling apart to see a line of spit attaching your lips together.

“Fuck.” his eyes were lided and his lips were swollen and red “C’mere” he brought you into his lap himself, pushing the seat back so you’d have more room. Looking out the window you could see you were still on the trail, no other cars in sight. Your head was turned by Toji, grabbing your chin and leading you back to his lips.

Your lips met again, Toji’s hands coming to squeeze the flesh of your ass appreciatively. Moaning into the kiss you lowered your pelvis down to his prominent bulge, rutting against it gently. He hissed at the movement, breaking apart from you to look down between the two of you.

“Shiiit,” he sighed and went to run a hand through his hair, “can’t do that to me, I’m gotta fuck you, needa be inside you so bad baby.” placing his hand on the cup of your sex making you shiver.

“Toji please.” you closed your eyes, head tilting downwards slightly.

“Please what? C’mon use your words.” he smirked and ran his hands down the sides of your body, battered and roughed fingers caressing the soft-textured fur of your mink coat.

“Mhmm'' you whimpered, suddenly very aware of where you were and who you were with. Shying away, you backed away from him to rest on your thighs - still straddling Toji’s waist - you brought a finger to your lips, biting your soft skin and looking through the windows as if you were being watched. As if the trees and the birds and the deers and the clouds knew you were about to lose your virginity to your bestfriend’s fucking father.

“Hey, hey, what’s up munchkin?” Toji sat up, bringing you to his chest comfortingly - a parental instinct to protect - “m’ I movin’ too fast?” he asked, petting your head softly as you softly nodded into his chest.

“M’ sorry sweet girl'' Toji rubbed your back gently, letting you snuggle into his hold and hide yourself in the neck of his turtleneck, sniffling quietly. “Shh, no more tears, baby m sorry.” he cooed. The two of you sat in the car for a good while, the soft humming of the engine and Toji’s warm arms wrapped around your small body mixed with his soft words slowly lead you to sleep.

When you finally woke up you were met with a bright light, bringing a hand over your eyes to shield the sun away you saw Toji leaning over you slightly, working to unbuckle our seatbelt. “Hey sunshine.” he smiled.

“Hey…” you rubbed your eyes gently making him chuckle, “are we at the lake already?” you asked, looking from your seat in the truck, noticing you were in a small parking lot surrounded by forest.

“Sure are sweetcheeks, you wanna get out?” he backed away from the door and let you stumble out, knees still wobbly from being asleep. Toji steadied you and pressed a kiss to your forehead to which you hummed at and tilted your head back, puckering your lips for him. Toji chuckled and pressed a small peck to your lips.

He took your hand in his and walked you to the bed of the truck, picking you up and placing you onto the rubber mat of the bed and grabbing your (Tsumiki’s) pink skates.

Toji pulled off your moon boots and helped lace up your skates before putting you down, patting your head gently. Yawning, you watched him go back to the passenger seat of the truck and put your shoes underneath the seat before coming back to you.

“You ready lil lady?” he looked at you once and took your gloved hand in his, leading you to the rink where Megumi was skating backwards and talking to Tsumiki as she twirled lightly. Megumi saw you and waved, making you giggle and wave back with your free hand.

Toji walked you over to the entrance of the rink, stepping in and holding a hand out for you to aid you in walking to the frozen lake bed. You hesitated, watching Megumi and Tsumiki, they made it look so easy - but to someone who had never skated in their life, you were sure this was how you were to meet your end.

“C’mon baby, I’m not gonna letcha’ fall.” Toji urged, stepping a tad closer to you as reassurement.

“You promise?” you looked down at the ice and back to his face and then his hand.

“Yes, honey, I promise.” Toji’s face turned serious, eyebrows furrowing as you took his hand, helping you step down and grabbing your hip when your leg slipped a tad. You held onto him for dear life, the hood of your coat rubbing against his shoulder.

“It’s okay, kid” he laughed a little and stepped backwards, holding his other hand out for you to take, letting you follow him as he took small swerves backwards. “Easy, just like that - ooh, careful! Good girl.” Toji praised, allowing you to grow more confident as he only held one of your hands now, still skating backwards as he watched your footing. Praising you when you made a turn or caught yourself.

Tsumiki had stopped skating and was standing by the edge of the lake, watching her father and you skate together. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that her father was pinning you and that you were returning, said pinning with the intensity of a school girl crush.

Megumi made his way past her and slowed to watch the two of you, turning to her as his chest heaved slightly. “Why are you watching them?”

Tsumiki was taken aback by his question, taking her hands out and gesturing to the two of you - you had slipped and Toji had caught you, bringing you up to his chest to hold you, letting you rest against his body as he continued to skate backwards, allowing you to hold onto him as he did the work for both of you.

“They look like they’ve been dating for four years for christ’s sake!” She exclaimed, her ponytail swaying. Megumi looked between her and the two of you shrugging lightly before preparing himself to continue skating. “How can you just sit here and not be bothered by that?” she laughed airily.

Megumi sighed and tilted his head towards her, “If i’m being honest, i don't really care - she’s still my best friend, and like, yeah” he shrugged again, “It’s weird, but this is the happiest i’ve seen dad in years, not to mention, she seems happy too.” Megumi then looked down at his gloves, restrapping them before taking off to skate again.

Toji held you to his chest, skating slowly as you listened to his heartbeat through his shirt. The rhythmic sway of his movements slowly lulling you into a sleep again. “You still with me baby?” his voice startled you slightly, vibrating through his chest and tickling the side of your cheek making you giggle.

“Yeah,” you slurred and moved to get closer to him, legs still moving in sync with his to help him as the two of you skated around the lake. “You’re warm.” you snuzzled him.

“Oh yeah?” he pulled your face away from his chest to tilt your head upwards, “Well, you’re pretty.” he watched you turn away from him bashfully, earning a deep laugh from him. “Awh c’mere stinker,” he grabbed your face and turned you back to him, slowly stopping the two of you in the middle of the lake. “You really are pretty.” he said and you nodded, leaning up to kiss him.

Megumi watched the two of you holding each other, completely unaware of his presence in staring at the two of you. An odd feeling filled his chest, not one of anger or sadness but one of almost relief, relief he could see his father being happy. Relief for you, someone who always seemed to sell themselves short, someone who put others before themselves. It was interesting to see you and his father somehow grow closer in less than a full day than he had managed in twenty-two years of living in the same home as the gruff man.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Tsumiki grabbing her brother by the arm, dragging him off the lake and onto the snow covered ground. “We’re gonna head into town and get some takeout, you guys wanna come?” She yelled.

Toji pulled away from your gaze to give her a thumbs up, “We’ll probably get something on the way back, don’t wait on us.”

You watched Tsumiki nod and return the thumbs up, walking with Megumi to the Royce and pulling out of the lot, gravel crumbling under the tires.

Toji sighed as he watched them get into the car, “Finally, gotcha’ all to myself.” He tucked his head to nuzzle your neck making you squeal and wiggle around in his arms. The two of you sat in silence for a small while, listening to the soft air and snapping of tree branches, the occasional bird crying. It was heavenly - you and Toji’s own little space among the battered and destroyed world.

Feeling yourself move forward, you open your eyes slowly to see Toji skating backwards gently, moving so quietly that he skates hardly made any noise against the frozen water. “Hey, you ready to go, baby?” there was that pet name again. That damn name that made your knees weak, an insignificant title that made you want to sink to your soft knees and devour his cock.

“Mhm” you hummed, following him as he made his way to the snow covered ground and pulled you up, helping you stand as he watched you sway tiredly - worn out from skating and probably talking the night before did not help any.

Once in the car, Toji had buckled you in and removed your skates, letting you sit cross legged on the heated leather seats. You watched Toji remove his own skates and put on his shoes before stepping into the car and reaching his hand out towards you. Heat rushed to your cheeks when your hands met, it was a simple act of love - one might even say domestic, and for a minute, yeah, you entertained the idea of being domestic with him. Of having a family with him. Of being his.

“You okay?” He asked and rubbed the skin of your knuckle with his thumb gently, putting the car in reverse with his other. Toji held your hand the rest of the drive, squeezing occasionally when you pointed something out.

“Okay, baby,” Toji parked in a shopping center and let you look around at the sea of snow covered cars and neon labeled writing that covered the illuminated buildings, “What’re you feelin’?”

Sitting up a tad straighter you scanned the buildings, looking for any place you could recognize before falling back against the heated seat. “M’ not really sure, I don’t recognize anything here Toji.” you yawned and leaned over the compartment to wrap your arm around his bicep, snuggling into him.

Toji cooed at your tenderness, patting your head and making the decision himself, pulling into a drive through and ordering something for himself and for you, deciding to get you two different things in case you favored the other.

You woke up to the smell of something spicy, rubbing your eyes before letting them focus on the ma sitting in the seat beside you. “Mornin’ to” you yawned, jumping lightly when he laughed through the mouthful of food.

“It’s seven P.M, baby cakes” Toji took another bite of food and then reached into the backseat to grab the separate bag of fruit and hand it to you gently. “I got you two things so you can choose which one you want.” he brought his hand to your head, pulling you towards him and placing a kiss on your temple and then went back to eating.

“Thankyou Toji.” you whispered, leaning against him as you ate and looked up through the windscreen of the car, watching the stars quietly. The soft hum of the engine mixed with the soft song playing on the radio built a warm feeling up in your belly. The feeling of home. Although you had only known Toji for a day, somehow you knew he was everything you needed. The perfect mix of dominance and parental guidance that made you look up at him like he was the only man in the entire world who mattered (scratch that) the only person who’s ever mattered.

“What’s up, baby?” he met your soft gaze. You smiled and leaned up to kiss him. Toji filled the gap between the two of you and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, short and sweet, nothing forced and nothing fake. It was reassuring.

The two of you went back to eating when you paused after your third bite, “Toji?” you asked and turned to him. “Yeah, baby?” he leaned back to rest his hands behind his head, watching you lovingly. You had him whipped and he knew it. He knew as soon as he heard your cries and soft meals for him through the thicket walls that he would do anything and everything to ensure you were happy and healthy and his.

“I want you to be my first.” so nonchalauntly said it almost made him blush, you spoke as if you were talking about the weather.

“You sure?” He querched an eyebrow at you to which your submissive nature returned, making you shrink away and lower your head.

“Yeah I’m sure.” you said and played with your food nervously. Toji smiled at you.

“Okay.”

The rest of the ride home was filled with soft comments and the soft sound of your knees bouncing nervously. At one point Toji had reached over to hold your thigh, slowing the rhythmic bouncing. “Calm down” he chuckled and rubbed your leg with his hand, “Don’t stress yourself out, I’m gonna take care of you.” he reassured you. Toji looked between you and the road, your face illuminated with a cherry light from the car lights surrounding you, “Hey, I’d rather have you do it with me than some dipshit who’s gonna fuck you and get you pregnant without caring about you.”

Your head turned to his, a worried expression painted your pretty features. “D-do boys actually do that?”

“Do what, baby?” he squeezed your hand and made a left turn, turning the wheel with his left hand smoothly.

“Try to get girls pregnant and then run away?” your bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Toji would have laughed at your naive nature, so easily bought by scary lines of abandonment. He knew you had abandonment issues; if the small tugs on his arms and adoring looks you gave him were any indication that you had trouble believing people (Toji) weren't going to leave you, stemming from some evil plant that had been rooted by most definitely someone you called a “father”.

“No, not all. But boys are idiots, I don’t want you hanging around any boys when you go back to school. They just wanna get their dicks wet.” Toji said, no room up to argue, as if you were going to.

“I won’t, I promise.” you were serious and Toji could tell. His precious baby, you were all his and he’d do whatever he could to protect you from the terrible monster spewed from the selfishness of teenage boy hormones and immaturity.

“I know baby, you’re my good girl, you’re daddy’s good girl.” the title made your legs quiver immediately, panties becoming soaked and thighs rubbing against each other, desperate for friction to ease the assault on your brain. The truck came to a stop at another intersection and Toji took the opportunity to press a kiss to your soft lips, pulling away and running his thumb across the bottom. He hummed at you and kissed you again, “Mhm, my sweet baby.”

“You’re so pretty” Toji praised, looking at you from between your spread thighs, your legs thrown over his shoulder as he pressed kisses to your panties, sucking on the damp spot of the fabric.

“Mmm, daddy, please.” you whined and reached a hand down to slip beneath your panties, your actions serving as pointless when Toji smacked your hand away.

“Please what?” he bit the inside of your thigh, sucking off your soft skin. You mewled at his touch, small fingers twisting the satin sheets generously. “Please touch me, I need you.”

Toji smiled at your neediness, sitting up a tad to pull your panties off and throw them behind him aimlessly. Bringing his mouth to your cunt he inhaled deeply and groaned, cupping your hips with his rough hands and bringing your body closer to him.

You exhaled shakily as he kissed your clit gently then moved down to lick a wide stripe up your core. You rushed to grab his head to steady yourself, thighs quivering as he groaned again when he inserted a finger.

“Fuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby.” he sucked your clit, his finger curling inside of you and stoking your gummy walls. “God, can’t wait to feel your tight little pussy on my cock, Jesus.” he exhaled deeply. “Gonna add another finger, kay, baby, you tell me if it's too much.” you looked up from your cunt, your juices coating his plush lips.

You nodded gently, spreading your legs a tad wider to accommodate toji’s new position. He pulled himself to sit on his knees, resting your cunt over his thighs. “Words for me, use your words for daddy.” he kissed your folds and you shivered.

“Yes daddy-”

“Promise me you’ll tell me if it hurts.” his eyes grew soft at your affectionate gaze.

“I promise, daddy.” you nodded and decided to act boldly, scooting yourself higher into his hold. Toji smirked through a chuckle before leaning down and inserting two fingers into you slowly. Wincing at the stretch Toji caressed your thigh with his hand holding you to him.

“I know, so good for daddy, just a little bit more baby.” he continued to praise you until both fingers were stuffed inside your tight cunt, threatening to split you if he tried to stretch them. “Oh honey, you’re so tight, that hurt?” he looked at you, concerned about his features.

You thought it over for a second, “Mm, a little bit, just a lil’ uncomfortable” hissing when he went to remove a finger, walls clenching emptily after benign stretched lightly.

“M’ sorry baby, daddy’s sorry, jus’ wanna make sure you're okay.” he rubbed the inside of your thigh and reentered his finger, sliding the two of them in and out of you with a squelch of your wet cunt. Toji watched as you squirm slightly, his fingers separating gently to stretch you. “So good for me baby, so good.”

Tears welled in your eyes at the praise, bringing your hand down to wrap around Toji’s wrist, he softened his movements. The two of you met each other's eyes and Toji smirked at your expression, eyes lidded hair stuck to your forehead. The way you looked at him with such trust made his heart swell, your swollen lips and rising chest, and the meteophicral hearts swimming in your vision could bring him to his knees.

He needed you and he fucking needed you now.

Toji grabbed a pillow and placed your hips over it, moving back to lean between your legs and press small kisses to your folds. “M’ you taste so good.” he wrapped his hands around your hips, caging you to the bed. His scarred lip tickling your skin when he sucked on your clit and reached his hand up towards you to hold yours in his own. He could tell you were close. Your legs twitched and he could feel your folds pulse and pump in his mouth.

“You’re okay.” he mumbled as your legs clenched as you came, nails digging into the rough flesh of his knuckle. His gruff voice muffled between your legs. Toji continued to lap at your soft cunt, his tongue flicking over your clit as he brought you closer to the edge.

A tight heat coiled in your belly, you tensed again and pulled your legs closer to your chest, toji following you as you moved, keeping a hand wrapped around your waist. He pulled off of you to smile, the scar on his lip splitting - the sight was almost painful to look at. Toji’s fingers pinched your clit while he watched you moan.

Throwing your head back against the fur pillow and tightening your grip around Toji’s wrist you came. “Oh- oh, please I’m cumming.” your walls pulsed around his digits, pussy soaking his mouth.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl for daddy huh” Toji smirked against your cunt, licking your wet folds before moving away to kiss up the inside of your thighs and up your leg that sat on his shoulder. He sat up onto his knees to kiss your ankle, rubbing your calf as you panted. “So pretty, baby.” he kissed your ankle again then moved to rest his hands on either side of your shoulders.

Toji brought his head down to snuzzle your neck, kissing the junction between your collarbone and neck, pressing short and small kisses all the way up your jaw until he met your parted lips. He pressed his lips to yours, cupping your head with one of his hands while the other moved down to part your folds again.

“Think you’re ready for daddy?” he pecked your lips. You nodded and whined lightly as he moved back to cup the bulge in his sweatpants. You moaned at the sight, you pushed yourself onto your elbows and crawled over to him.

He watched you eye his bulge, his cock twitching as your head tilted upwards, eyes meeting his own. You looked so innocent - so easy to ruin. You looked between him and his bulge, jaw opening and closing like a gaping fish. “C-can I touch..” you whispered, embarrassed at your own insinuation that you most definitely wanted this man’s cock inside of you.

Toji chuckled and leaned down to pet your head, he kissed your forehead and nodded when your expression grew into one of frustration at the lack of answer. “Yeah, baby, you wanna touch daddy’s cock?” he tilted his head to watch you turn bashfully making him laugh, pulling down the hem of his sweatpants through his chuckle.

His cock sprung up to tap his abdomen and drool pooled in your mouth, you moved to take him into your mouth, Toji’s hand coming up to press against your forehead, stopping you in the process. You looked up to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Daddy’s okay, I’ll teach you how to suck dick another day, kay baby?” he stroked the back of your head. His words were almost condescending, treating you as though you didn’t know any better, as though you were too incapable of doing things on your own. Toji didn't think so though, Toji saw this as his way to own you completely, riot your brain of everything you knew and mold you into a submissive little puppy - mold you into something entirely perfect and special, hidden from the sinful acts of civilization.

“Daddy,” you whined, pawing at his thigh, staring at his cock had begun tortures; memorizing the thin veins that ran up the underside and his pretty pink tip. Daddy’s cock is pretty you thought to yourself.

He hadn't even noticed he’d begun to stare off.

Toji blinked and made a smile at you, holding your jaw in his hand and kissing you roughly, “Daddy’s here.” he pulled off to look behind you at the bed, pushing you back till you were laying on your back, arms reaching up for him.

Positioning himself between your legs, he hiked one thigh over his arm, pressing your knee to your chest. You placed your hands on his biceps, rubbing his skin as a means to comfort yourself as you watched him tug on his cock, precum leaking from the tip.

You made a nervous whimper at the feeling of his tip pressing against your folds. Toji kissed you and stroked the skin of your hip gently. “Shh… kiss daddy’s gonna go slow kay?” he waited for you to nod before slowly pushing his tip in.

You cried out and pushed against his belly, trying to slow him down, “Too much daddy!” tears already fell down your soft cheeks making Toji’s eyes soften. He brought himself down to rest on his forearms, bringing his hands to either side of your face and cupping it as you sobbed.

“Honey, calm down,” he spoke gently, thumbing your tears away “it’s only just the tip, baby”

You closed your mouth and screwed your eyes shut, trying to get used to the stretch only to shake your head when it wasn’t working. “Too big, daddy,” you wailed and brought your hands up to cup his wrists.

“Baby.” he cooed “focus on daddy for me baby” he pulled out a small bit to let you calm down. You slowly opened your eyes, vision blurred with salty tears as you tried to make out his face.

“Daddy you have to go slow.” you cried, bringing a hand up to wipe at your eyes which Toji pulled away, leaning down to kiss your eyelids gently and pulling back to place a peck on your swollen lips.

He cooed again, “I know baby, daddy’s sorry, he was going too fast.” you nodded at his words and he nodded back, smiling when you began to breathe normally again, taking deep inhales through your lips. “That’s my girl, deep breaths, kay?” you continued to breathe until you squirmed a bit underneath him. “Where you goin baby?” Toji asked, head tucked into your neck where he’d been pressing gentle kisses.

“Wanna try again.” you met his eyes when he came back up, “I can do it daddy, just go slow.” you reassured him when his eyebrow quirked.

“Okay, daddy’s gonna so slow, you tell him if it gets to be too much okay?” he kissed both of your cheeks and you nodded, your features filling with excitement in hopes of making your daddy proud. Toji noticed your excitement, of course, and laughed lightly, “Calm down, squirt, we still gotta take it slow. Daddy doesn’t wanna hurt you.”

You nodded enthusiastically and grabbed his biceps again, bracing yourself for the stretch and wincing when he pushed in again. Toji watched your soft expression grow screwed and stopped, “Take a breath, baby.”

You gasped loudly, showing Toji that you were in fact breathing which earned you a smile at your exaggerated breaths. Toji took your moment of distraction to push himself in a bit more, making your smile break into a gasp, nails gripping his skin roughly.

“So good, for me, see almost done” he tucked your head to look between the two of you; the sight of his girth splitting you open making your walls flutter and soak hsi cock, pulling him into you more.

Toji’s jaw dropped at the clench of you walls, you were so fucking tight - and he wasn’t even all the way in - “Oh, fuuuck,” he chuckled breathlessly, readjusting himself to support his weight on one of his hands, “easy, kid, god.”

“M’ sorry” your eyes welled up, thinking you were hurting him you went to move only to be stopped by him keeping you in place.

“No,” he chuckled “No- just- just god, haha” he took a few breaths, bringing a hand down to massage your clit, hoping you’d loosen up because at the rate you were going right now, he was gonna cum right when he was fully inside you. “Jesus, kid, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he said through gritted teeth.

Toji continued to push himself in, your body shivering and leg quivering over his arm as he met your hymen, tapping it lightly with the tip of his cock making you wince. “There she is.” Toji looked down between your bodies, seeing how much more you had to take he gulped and turned his head back up to see your worried expression.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m still gonna go slow, baby, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good.” the two of you waited for a moment, his cock pulsing inside your tight cunt as you took deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself. Toji took the time to appreciate your features; your furrowed brows as you concentrated on the size of him, your long eyelashes stuck together by tears, your soft skin and plump cheeks that made him want to wrap you up in his arms and snuggle you. “You okay, baby?” you nodded “You want daddy to try moving?” he asked and kissed you.

“Yes daddy, I just- I need help.” you looked to him for guidance and guidance he provided. Toji thought for a second before taking your smaller hand in his large one and pulling it down to his cock, letting you wrap your small hand around the girth that hadn’t entered you yet.

“Good girl,” Toji muttered, watching you feel around his cock, exploring the touch and texture of it, “Now, daddy’s gonna push in and if it gets to be too much for you I want you to press against me.” he informed you and you nodded, heart speeding up at the pulse under the skin of his cock. “You ready?” nodding you moved your arm to his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him.

Toji pushed in gently, your hymen splitting, a broken cry muffled by Toji’s mouth, your hand made no move of stopping him but he slowed to a near stop for your sake, stroking your wrist with his hand and pressing kisses over your tears.

“You okay, sweetie?” he pulled back, stroking the back of your head.

“Yeah, m’okay, jus’ hurts a bit.” you sniffled

“I know, kid, you’re being’ so good for me, so good for daddy.” he kisses your nose and lets you relax, running his hands over any part of your body he could reach, slowly kissing you and allowing you to grow accustomed to his size.

“I’m okay now daddy, c-can you move, but be gentle please, like- like slow?” you said softly, taking your hand off his length to hold his forearm.

“Of course, baby.” Toji nodded and pulled out a bit before slowly pushing himself back in. He watched your expression clench up, having difficulty in taking his length; he tried a few more practice thrusts before realizing your body was tense and making it difficult for you to fully let him move without hurting you. “Baby, relax.” he sat up onto his haunches and pulled you closer to him. Your legs were placed over his shoulders as he pressed your body into a mating press, forcing your body to relax in surprise of all of his cock sinking into your tight cunt making him groan.

“Oh jesus, you’re so fucking tight, baby - haha, god, you’re all mine, god you feel so good.” he praised, head coming to tuck into your neck. He pressed small kisses to your skin while he groaned.

“Mm daddy, please,” your legs tensed when his cock twitched slightly. There was hardly any room for him, his cock was pressed against your cervix, your squirming not helping to ease the cramped feeling.

“I gotcha’, kid.” he pulled out and thrusted back in, this time you moaned and threw your head back against the fur pillows. You felt so fucking full. “Fuck, daddy.” you cried, turning your head upwards to watch him to see his focused yet blissed expression.

“Yeah, sweetie?” he chuckled, thrusting deeply inside you, his balls slapped your skin, the sound was damn near pornographic, the weight of his cock made you moan. “Oh, that feels good, does my baby feel good?” he teased at your expression, drool trailing from your mouth.

You nodded enthusiastically and moved to hold him closer, your legs bending against his shoulders to press him further inside you. “Daddy - whine - daddy, please all the way inside.” you pleaded and Toji looked at you worriedly.

“Okay, sweetie, relax for me.” he readjusted your legs higher on his shoulders and sank all the way into you, two of you gasping when his balls met your folds. “Jesus.” Toji shivered and pulled back to thrust into you again.

Toji continued to thrust into you, hitting your cervix and making you moan and clench around him, the heat and tightness of your pussy making him groan. He needed to get you to come. “C’mon sweetie, you’re so pretty for me, so. thrust. damn. Thrust. Good.” he brought a hand down to your clit and began to circle it gently, the rough pad of his finger bringing you closer.

“Oh fuck, daddy!” you moaned, “Daddy, m’ gonna cum, m’ gonna cum.” you cried.

Toji groaned and leaned down to kiss you, “cum for me sweet girl, want daddy to fill you up? Give you a baby?” he smirked at your expression, fucked coompletely stupid.

“Daddy please, please fill me up.” you moaned, the need to be bred was making your head spin. Thoughts of being swollen with his child and carrying his baby for him made your knees weak.

“Okay, kid, daddy’s cummin’ c’mon.” he said through clenched teeth, pressing your legs deeper against your chest causing you to cum. Your jaw dropped and you gasped, pulling yourself closer to Toji as you came.

Toji leaned into your hold, shivering as he bucked his hips into you, your gummy walls pulsed around him, milking his cock as cum painted your walls. He swore you were going to kill him. “God, you’re all mine, kid, all fucking mine. He finished thrusting and pushed himself all the way into the hilt, assuring his seed took before pulling out and falling beside you.

You sat staring at the ceiling, looking for something to ground yourself with as your body shook. Eyes coming to focus on the iron chandelier you felt tears well up in your eyes and pour down your cheeks. Suddenly everything was too much and not enough, you needed more of him, you needed him to tell you everything was okay, to tell you he wasn’t going to leave his multi-million dollar cabin after fucking you ti’ll you were braindead, your mind scrambled to find some logical thought, grasping at the scariest one it could find until you could feel the anxiety rotting in your stomach.

Toji heard you sniffle and turned over to see you covering your face with your hands, chest heaving as tears ran down your cheeks. “Baby, baby, baby, what’s wrong?” he moved to pull you into his arms, spooning you and grounding you with his weight. “Are you hurt, honey, what’s going on?” he kissed the back of your head. Hsi touch made you cry harder, “c’mon, kid, talk to me.” he pleaded and brought his hand over your body to cup your face.

“Please -” you choked, turning over to meet his eyes, “Please don’t leave me, don’t - I can’t, I wan’t-” you were panicking, unable to get the words out as word vomit spilled form your swollen lips aimlessly.

Toji tried to make sense of your rambling, ‘shushing’ you and pulling you against his chest. “M’ not leaving a sweet thing.” he kissed the top of your head. “Remember how I told you I didn’t want you hanging around those boys? Is that what this is about?” he pulled your head back from his chest to look at you, stroking your cheek gently.

You thought for a moment and considered that those scary stories Toji told you about the mean boys and their inability to be mature probably put you on edge. “Maybe” you sniffled.

Toji chuckled lightly, “Baby, I’m not gonna leave you.” he tucked you back against his chest before rolling over and letting you lay against him. “Shh, sweetie, relax.” he cooed as he felt your back heave with heavy sniffles.

Trying to slow your breathing you snuggled against his body, relaxing to the touch of him running his hand up and down your back comfortingly. You turned to him as you felt your eyes get heavy, “Toji?” you sniffled.

“Yeah, kid?” he asked, eyes closed yet his hand continued to run up and down your skin.

“Thankyou.” you said softly.

Toji peaked one eye open, “C’mere.” he brought his arm up to make room for you, letting you lay down next to him before wrapping you in his hold under the heavy fur blanket. “You’re a good kid y/n.” he kissed your forehead.

You hummed to yourself, relaxing into his hold and falling asleep to the sound of his heart.

The next morning Toji sent you to shower, letting you have your own privacy as you scrubbed the blood from between your thighs and watched the clear water that ran over the pearly white tiles turn a pink hue.

Once you were finished and dressed yourself in a pair of pj’s, you made your way downstairs, lured into the kitchen by the smell of bacon and syrup much like the morning before. Toji was sitting at the bar with a coffee cup in his hand and his phone in the other.

Noticing you enter the room he motioned for you to come over to him, letting you stand between his legs as he sat on the stool. “How’d you sleep, baby?” you stroked your head gently.

“Mm, good.” you yawned and rubbed your eyes to which Toji pulled your hand away from your face again.

“How many times I gotta tell you to stop doing’ that shit with your eyes?” You smiled sheepishly before wrapping your arms around him in a hug to which he returned, resting his chin atop your head.

“Forever.” you joked and Toji laughed, you smiled as you felt it vibrate through his body.

“Breakfast is ready.” Tsumiki said through a smile and placed two plates down at the bar, one for you and one for Toji before going back to make her own plate.

“C’mere, sweet thing.” Toji spread his legs and helped you up into his lap. Letting you rest against his chest as he brought your plate over next to his and began to feed you. It was a simple thing, the act of feeding someone you love, but it was a small act of domesticity that warms your heart. It made you and Toji’s relationship seem years old, as he kissed your temple and took a bite of his own food you smiled to yourself.

“What are you thinking about?” Toji teased and flicked your forehead.

“You.” you answered honestly, snuggling into him.

Toji smiled and placed a hand on your head before bringing another fork of food to your mouth, “Yeah, I’m thinkin’ about you too.”

Toji fed you another bite as Megumi made his way into the kitchen. You waved to him and smiled with a mouthful of food, Megumi chuckled at you, his shoulders bouncing.

He made his own plate and went to sit down with Tsumiki. The four of you ate in silence, save for snide comments made here and there by Toji or soft pet names he would whisper to you as you took another bite.

"Are we gonna go to the gondola today?" He pulled the string off his hoodie mindlessly and he munched on a piece of bacon.

Toji looked back at his son before turning to you and stroking the back of your head softly, "How's that sound, baby?"

You nodded your head and brought a hand up to cover your mouth, "sounds fun to me, I wanna see the mountains and play in the snow."

Toji smiled at your excitement and kissed your temple. The rest of the breakfast was filled with far more normalcy rather than tension, son and father making jokes while Tsumiki and you spoke about silly little things.

"You ready to go, kid?" Toji yelled from the bottom of the steps. He wore a black jacket made of PU leather and cotton fabric, snow pants, a pair of leather snow boots.

Bouncing down the steps in your moon boots you squealed happily, "Yes, I'm so excited!"

Toji chuckled and ruffled your hair once you made it to the bottom of the steps, "Careful, baby." He scolded lightly and you shook your head, removing his large hand from your hair.

"I wanna go!" You said gleefully and ran to the door and out into the icy air, Toji following behind, his bag in one hand and truck keys in the other.

You crouched down in the small amount of piled snow that had built up over night, grabbing a stick and poking at it happily as Toji started the F150 and placed his bags in the back.

Suddenly two hand grabbed your waist making you squeal and thrash around, "Toji!'' You giggled and he laughed, kissing your neck playfully. Toji carried you to the passanger seat of the truck and placed you in the seat, helping strap you in and then kissing your nose.

Toji made his way to the driver's seat and sat down, heated up the seats and started the engine before typing in the directions to the gondola. "You ready to go see some mountains, sweet cheeks?" He laid his hand out across the compartment signaling he wanted you to take his hand.

Placing your hand in his, you looped your fingers together and leaned forward to kiss him on his lips. "Yes!" You chirped and grabbed his phone to turn on some music.

Toji smiled at your music choice and rubbed the faux fur of your glove gently as he drove down the trail. He was happy.

[deluluass]

all yours; all mine

71 and 58 with Atsumu pleaseeese. I just love this man and I would appreciate it if you wrote something with him. Youre so talented!💕 — anon

sidenote: anon, i hope u know that u have a very special place in my heart for being the first ask ive ever received. i hope u are well & having a gr8 day ;U;

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; daddy kink; mild angst; implied post-breakup depression; toxic relationship/s

Breakups are a messy business. A lot of crying, begging, screaming (if it's that type of a breakup). Whatever it is, breakups generally inspire intense— so-intense-it-could-get-you-kicked-out-if-you're-in-a-public-place, high-strung, and the most unpleasant kind of emotions. 

It’s understandable, considering you’re losing the person you love. 

But he doesn't even look upset.

"Aah," Atsumu sing-songed, twirling the plastic stirrer between his fingers. "Ya wanna call it off?"

The heat from the mug bit your skin as you gripped it. 

"What?" you choked, shaking your head. "I didn't say that, Atsumu. I only-"

He scoffed. "Fuckin'- ya just did."

You finally looked up at him, porcelain clinking as you placed your drink back on the saucer. Ball cap on,  muscles filling up and straining his hoodie and jeans; even in an outfit that almost concealed him he never fails to take your breath away. 

Only, it's for a different reason this time.

"I said that I-" you cleared your throat. "I want- I want you to-"

"I get it, I get it." Atsumu sighed, waving his hand nonchalantly. "Let's break up, then."

He was already standing up and he didn't even deign to meet your eyes. You didn't expect much when you'd travelled all the way to Tokyo just to have a talk with him. After all, the last conversation you had was over the phone. (And that, too, did not go well). 

Though, is it too much to expect he'd at least listen to what you have to say?

"Tsumu-kun! Wait!" 

Some customers were already staring, urging you to hide, hop on the next train, and run back home; away from the cold scrutiny of strangers. 

But not now. Not when what you have with him is hanging on a balance.

"Please, sit down and- and let's talk," you huffed, voice and hand trembling as you held onto his.

Breakups are a messy business, you heard.

A lot of crying. A lot of begging. A lot of screaming. Whichever kind it is, don't breakups usually inspire only the most intense emotions?

But he doesn't even look upset, doesn't even look like he feels anything other than a passing irritation, as if you were a fly buzzing in his ear, when he told you, "I know this is ya first rodeo, but yer gonna find someone new eventually, hm?"

It's been a long time coming, Atsumu thinks. He'd known for quite a while now that his relationship with you would end, actually, ever since you'd wanted to include "feelings" and "trust" and "opening up" into the mix. 

"Why?" he'd laughed at your face once. "What? Ya ain't happy? That it? We got somethin' good goin' on don't we?"

He didn't get it, at first. You'd always been your cheerful, bubbly self; never failing to be that one sunny spot when his day gets too pesky and such a pain in the ass. You were happy.

Until you weren't. 

"You don't.. tell me things," you muttered, fiddling with your hands on the kitchen table. "Which is fine! I'm not- go at your pace, but- but know that I'd listen to you. Always. I'm here, 'Tsumu."

And it wasn't as if he didn't try. It's just that Atsumu realized, a few months later, that he wasn't any good at it. 

Every time he'd lay it all out in front of you⁠— every tiny and pathetic and gritty part of him, you would eventually take him in your arms. So much smaller, weaker than his and yet Atsumu did not mind if it could be his entire world. 

Then, a thought would creep in, like a thief that'd stab him in his sleep. In the safety of those tender arms, with those guileless eyes peering at him, Atsumu would think that he'd rather stay there forever, cling onto you until he bites the dust.  

It disgusted him. 

Atsumu couldn't stand it. Because if he could be anything in this short life, he'd choose to be perfect. And that- that wasn't it. 

So he avoided it when the occasion arose. Diverting the subject to mundane stuff was easy, at first. The weather, the new show you're binging, your slacker of a boss, what happened back in the game. When that didn't work⁠— well, there were other ways. 

(His favorite was sticking his tongue in your wet cunt, to prod at the soft walls with the tip, and to lap and suck at the clit until you're begging for the stretch of his fat cock.)

The break up was understandable. When you'd greeted him in the café as if you'd spent the entire time you were apart crying, Atsumu knew it was over. 

You just repeated what you'd always said. It's okay to be vulnerable. If he needs some time to work out the right words then you'd always wait because I love you, 'Tsumu. 

(But there was that feeling again. Like he could die on the spot if you would so much as leave his sight.)

(Ending it was the only way out. When poison seeps itself into the bloodstream, you're left with no choice but to cut off a part of you.)

Unlike others, he can say that it was a clean parting. You wanted something and he was bad at it. And because he hated fucking up, Atsumu decided to leave. Easy. 

Really, the only people who didn't understand were his teammates.

"That's strange," Hinata spat, rice bursting to his chin when he suddenly faced Atsumu. "I don't think I've seen her for weeks now."

He could hear barely suppressed groans  behind him, no doubt from Bokuto and the others, before their spiker blurted out a confused, "What?"

Because, of course, Hinata could only mean one "her.” (There had only ever been one that Atsumu Miya allowed inside the team's gymnasium; inside his circle of friends; inside his life.)

Apparently, except for Hinata Shoyo, everyone had caught on that the both of you had thrown in the towel, so to speak. (And here they thought the guy's finally in it for real.)

"Nah, it's fine," Atsumu smirked, addressing it to everyone gathered around Samu's onigiri stand.  

"We broke up." 

He clicked his tongue. "It's not like there ain't no other fish in the sea."

The remark, casually said in between sips of cold coffee, was met with a gaping silence. 

That turned out to be right, like everything else that he'd predicted. 

A hole is a hole is a hole is a hole. No disrespect meant to you. But before you there had been many others who'd helped warm his bed. It just so happened that you got to stay for far longer. 

(Because waking up next to you meant waking up to that dreamy look, as if whoever's in charge up there has finally given you everything you've ever wanted.)

(And when he greets you with a hoarse good morning you say it back with eyes that tell him he's worth it, simply for being there.)

Anyway, going back to that old routine hadn't been difficult. 

(Except when he finally does it with someone new, for some reason he keeps searching for a different touch, expecting that endearing combination of inexperience and enthusiasm.)

(And when they cum he can't help but put a hand on their mouth, around their throat, because he's hearing the wrong voice, seeing the wrong face.) 

It's obvious, looking at him. Everyone can see that life's going pretty well for Atsumu. He can only hope that the same goes for you.

"You're miserable."

Peeling your attention away from the mother braiding her young daughter's hair, you hurriedly brought it back to the two women sitting in front of you.

"See?" Aya swung her hand in your direction. "Not even listening."

"No, no," you giggled sheepishly. Kaori was already pursing her lips.

"No, seriously. I am."

You sat upright, setting the chopsticks on your bento box. 

"Then what was it she said?" Kaori pressed. She folded her arms and you knew you were in trouble. 

"Uh..huh." You nodded. "Right. So. Um...."

"You didn't catch it," said Kaori.

"I didn't catch it," you winced.

Both girls sighed. 

The first three buttons of their blouses were open, the heat of the afternoon getting to them. And as they leaned back against the wooden bench, you had a feeling that they were about to give you the Conversation that's been waiting to happen for two long months.

That's why you'd decided to start it before they could. Just so it won't linger anymore painfully so.

“I know what you're going to say."

They only raised their brows, a mere "okay, go on" than an actual expression of surprise. 

"I've been sad. I haven't been..fine. That is true," you inhaled, preparing yourself for the agonizing part. Then, you released your breath.

"Ever since..'Tsu-" you gulped. "Ever since breaking up with Atsumu I haven't been feeling like myself but nowadays I'm getting back on my feet and I'm still working see so really there's no need to worry okay? Okay."

Aya grinned, but it didn't hold her usual devil-may-care humor to it. 

"You say that," she started, "but we’ll probably always be if you keep at that- at that⁠—"

"You're rarely in the moment," Kaori supplied, to which Aya replied with a harsh thank you. "You're distracted. And we know you're trying your best to be okay on your own. We've given you space, but remember that you have us."

Something was lodged in your chest and you found it hard to breathe. You'd missed them. You hadn't realized it, but you missed your friends. 

So much.

"Thank you," you whispered, forcing back  tears. "I- I wouldn't know what to do if it not for you two-"

"Hold it." Aya raised a palm. "Before you get corny again. Can I just say, I know he's your first dick-"

"Aya," Kaori murmured.

"And we all know it was good-"

"Aya," you hissed.

Your face burned as you searched from left to right, making sure no innocent being heard her.

"But can I just say," she slapped a palm on the surface of the table. "I don't care what you or the TV or his fans say about him! But the man's a walking red flag since day one!"

Kaori rolled her eyes. And despite yourself you couldn't keep a chuckle from bubbling. 

"Here we go again."

Aya almost rose from her seat. "When he sent that poor dude from accounting to the ER for just, I don't know, breathing your way, I knew something was up!"

You felt your smile die. 

That had been the first time it happened. You'd asked him what's wrong, after you'd rushed to the hospital, and all he gave you was silence. A whole day of it. He hadn't spoken a word about it, only that he'd warned you not to talk to that bastard again, or else.

(You'd learned, much, much later, that he doesn't do well with people that annoy him. That's what he said. You wanted to know more, but he suddenly decided that he had to make it up to you between the sheets.)

Kaori touched your hand. "Talk to us," she whispered.

You hummed as you shook your head. "I just remembered him," you said, only half of the truth.

If they knew it, they didn't let on. But Aya did say, "Tell you what. Company outing's upon us. So you know what that means?"

"Oh, I don't know," you mumbled apologetically. "I might sit this one out."

"No," Kaori gritted. 

Aya held your face with both hands as she  stared you down.

"You will buy yourself a new swimsuit. You will enjoy that cheap beach resort." 

The heaviness was lifting, bit by bit, as you felt your stomach ache with laughter. And with each silly word uttered by your friends, you could almost see the gray clouds overhead disappearing. Even for a little while.

"And you, you beautiful person you," Aya beamed. "Will finally, finally get laid."

Having best friends who are dead set on helping you get over an ex is a fearsome thing to behold, indeed. 

You couldn't even get a word in edgewise as they took you in a whirlwind of spas, salons, mani-pedis, and shopping bags. 

"Calm down. You rarely spend for yourself," Kaori told you when she'd caught you peeking forlornly at the frightening bill you'd amassed. 

But, try as you might to miss owning a fat wallet, you couldn't deny that you have no regrets wasting your money away. Not even for a single cent. Because you did feel amazing.

And when the day arrived, you couldn't help at the giddiness of having compliment after compliment thrown your way. 

"Is that really you?" said a co-worker when you'd boarded the bus. "You're glowing!"

During the games, as well, you'd often hear "Love the new look!" and "Have I ever told you before that you're so pretty? Because you are." And you'd preen with a soft-spoken thank you, having been taught by Kaori that denying a compliment makes one look stupid.  

It was so silly, honestly. Though not the part where, after a lovely comment, you'd be emboldened to strike an actual conversation. Learning that a coworker has a new baby now, or that so and so has recently moved up the corporate ladder; learning that, during your period of grief and self-pity (and even during the blissful time you’d spent with Atsumu), there were so many things you hadn't noticed.

You basked in it: the shower of pleasantries and anecdotes that had you feeling soft and fuzzy inside. The same way you lazed on the sandbar, clutching tiny conch shells in your hand, as you watched the sun tinge the sparkling waves with warm light.   

"Hey."

You jolted, turning towards the person who'd called your name. It was him. "Poor dude from accounting" as Aya dubbed him.

"Sano-san," you gasped, reaching for the towel beside you to cover up. "How- how are you?" 

Of all the people in your office, he was the last one you wanted to see. Solely for the reason that things have been awkward between you ever since that incident. A working relationship characterized by the literal turning of the other cheek whenever you two bumped into each other.

"Oh, pardon me," he scratched the back of his head. "Do you..want me to go?"

Yes. 

"No..!" you blurted out. "I think-"

The sun was almost setting. You wrapped the towel around you as you took in the balmy sea breeze. 

"I think I'm done hiding," you whispered, meeting his gaze for the first time in a long while, head on and baring the tiniest hint of shame, like how you did with your friends and other coworkers.

He didn't say anything, allowing you to continue. "I- It's nice. Talking to people again," you giggled. "Look, Sano-san. About before, I'm really sor-"

"Actually," he smiled. "That's why I'm here. Well, my partner pushed me but-"

You grinned at the blush that rose to his cheeks. 

"But I wanted to tell you: No hard feelings."

Sano-san extended a hand. You stared at it for a few seconds. His hand, then his face. Back to his hand, then his face again. And when you'd finally accepted it, it felt like witnessing the cage that’s imprisoned you for centuries finally open.

"By the way," he added, walking back towards an obviously amused fianceé. "It's a good look on you, being happy."

Atsumu entertained the possibility that maybe— just maybe, not everything was  fine the night the Jackals went home after an overseas tournament.

As soon as the plane landed on Japanese soil, the hunger he felt throughout the journey morphed into some kind of  anticipation, palpable through the thrill that electrified him into wakefulness. He might have left in a hurry, only half of his mind present when the Coach ordered for a short meeting. 

His foot tapped endlessly on the way⁠— while in the car; during the tedious elevator ride⁠— and when he'd finally entered his pad, slamming the door open with much eagerness than usual, Atsumu felt his heart plummet down his stomach when he was welcomed by a dark and empty hallway. 

You're not here. Not anymore.

Hasn't it been almost half a year now? Why did he expect you, face brightened by a grin that went from ear to ear, to materialize in front of him, with the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen? As if a magician with a hat trick.   

("Welcome back!" he was aching to hear.)

(You always insisted on eating with him when he got home; sometimes opting to just stay by his side⁠— munching on a midnight snack while you babbled on, if he arrived later than usual and you'd already had dinner.)

("It's lonely having a meal on your own," you explained. "Don't you think food tastes better if you have someone with you?")

Perhaps it was the jet lag. Or, it could be that the abrupt change in time zones was starting to mess with his head. Either way, Atsumu was sure that sleep would eventually cure him of the momentary delirium. 

But then he woke up the next day feeling like someone had pissed in his morning drink. The day after that, too. Even the next had been the same, persisting onto the following weeks. 

Until one game, after a winning streak that had the crowd chanting their names and with blood still roaring in his veins, he condescended to survey the numerous people occupying the bleachers. 

And when he couldn't find one⁠— one person that had always stood out to him despite being constantly drowned in an ocean of spectators— it was only then that Atsumu Miya decided that enough was enough. 

You hadn't really agreed with Aya when she told you that you'd be getting "laid" during this short vacation. 

Reason number one: it's a company outing. And you're sure you'd be breaking some protocols by fooling around with any of your coworkers. Reason Two: as you'd sagely imparted to a miffed Aya, "I don't think it's nice to cure a broken heart with sex; strings attached or no."

That being said, the lingerie she'd chosen for you did flatter your figure. It didn't matter that "no one would see it," as Aya grumbled. It was enough for you that you yourself saw it, you thought as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. 

The way it was tailored made it seem like it was made just for your body. The details of lace also made it look so pretty that you felt kind of sad that you'd have to cover it up with a summer dress soon. 

Nevertheless, you allowed yourself to strike a few poses in front of the mirror; feeling like a teenager on their first date as you admired how you looked in it. 

You smiled to yourself, humming a tune, before you opened your makeup kit and prepared the necessities you'd be bringing for the bonfire dinner. 

"Wipes: check," you murmured, rummaging through your bag. "Hygiene stuff. Where are you hygiene stuff, hygiene stu⁠—"

You froze.

Something rustled. Outside. As if something had moved. 

Putting a robe back on, your heart thundered against your chest as you stepped out of the bathroom and into the dimly lit sleeping area, illuminated only by a small reading lamp.

"Be careful there, girlie," the old caretaker warned as she guided you to this room. "Lots of mean spirits lurking about."

You didn't believe in ghosts. For some reason, however, your coworkers did. So you'd taken it to yourself to move here after a room assignment mishap, leaving Aya and Kaori behind. 

It didn't seem like the cursed chamber that she purported to be. Sure, it was isolated at the furthest wing of the beach house, away from the other rooms and separated by a too dark hallway. But that had been the creepiest thing about it. Besides, you heard from logistics that renting the house didn't cost much, despite its size, so maybe it's just that they lacked the resources to renovate. 

The floorboards creaked beneath you. "Aya? Aya, I know it's you," you called out as you squinted, catching a faint silhouette reclined at the corner of the bed. 

It was too large to be Aya, but you chalked that up to the shadows playing with your eyes. You puffed out a chortle, resting a hand on your hips when she finally stood.   

"Very funny, Aya," you snorted when she sauntered towards you. "Just you wait until Kaori hears about.…" you trailed off.

"......this."

You drew in a breath as she moved closer, revealing a build that was much taller, towering almost in the small room, shoulders that are way broader than the ones your friend has, and a face that clearly wasn't Aya's.

"Evenin'," Atsumu yawned. 

Your legs refused to listen to you.

"Been a minute, hadn't it, darlin'?"

You don't know why he's here. 

And even if you wanted to ask, you find that no sound could escape from your mouth when you tried to open it.

You do know this, as he gave you a lopsided grin that used to have you eating at the palm of his hand, along with a lazy gaze that was belied by a bird-like focus:

That although he told you that all he wants is a little chat, you knew that he didn't come here just for that.

You ran.

Atsumu had been the worst boyfriend.

He's aware of it now, realized it fully when he knocked on Samu's door, shit-faced, and it only took a single look and a consoling arm from his brother to break Atsumu into tears and snot, as well as Samu's voice telling him, "Yer a big baby. Ya need her, dontcha?"

That's why he followed you here, figuring that you'd love a thoughtful surprise. Because you always have. He didn't expect you'd take to it kindly, of course, not right away. But he also didn't expect that you would be doing the surprising.

You were talking to that man when he arrived. 

Didn't he tell you not to?

His intentions still haven't changed. He's here to bring you back, but before anything else Atsumu's sure it's only normal that you guys clear things up first. 

And if you're going to do that, he can't have you running away now, can't he?

Grabbing you by the waist, Atsumu's palm tingled at the feel of your body, pulling you closer to him as he pinned you to the wall and stifled your shrieks with his hand.

"Everybody's gone, angel," he whispered, losing himself in your skin, though covered in silk; lips and fingers roaming every which way because finally, finally, fuckin' finally you're here and you're real.

"Just wanna talk." He stroked the curve of your ass, middle finger tracing the lining of the crack. "Ain't this what'ya always wanted? S'let's talk," he murmured against your collarbone.

You were already crying, shaky hands weakly grasping his back and tears wetting even his cheeks. Atsumu couldn't help but smile. You'd always been a crier. It's one of the many things he loves about you. Always so honest with your emotions.

"I missed ya," Atsumu groaned as he grinded his cock against your pussy, feeling it harden when he mouthed your tits.

There was something peeking out of your robe, he noticed as it became more rumpled. 

"D-don't," you breathed, your attempt to swat his hands away thwarted when he seized your wrist.

It was lace. The color pulling the eye to your body like a siren's song. And when he stripped the robe off of you, silk swishing down your elbows, Atsumu saw that it was a piece of lingerie. One that he hasn't seen before.

Because he didn't buy this one. It wasn't from him. You weren't the type to get one yourself. 

Until now.

"This for him?" he murmured, pressing a kiss against your pulse, beating like a drum against his lips. 

"Wh-who?" you whimpered.

"The ugly piece of shit. Saw you guys gettin' chummy earlier."

He was close, too close to you, back at the beach. You smiled at him, laughed and showed him what he isn't supposed to see. And when he touched you— when the fucker touched you, Atsumu wanted blood on his hands.

"Yer gonna fuck the guy whose face I busted?" 

You squeaked as he dug his blunt nails against your wrist. Atsumu licked the red impressions they made.

"And what- what about it?" Your voice was so brittle and small. God, he just wanted to hold you. "It's none of your business, who I spend my time with. And don't- don't tell me you're jealous because-"

He chuckled, the sound of it making you shrink back into the wall. "Jealous? Doll, ya wouldn't wanna know what I'm feelin right now. But, sure." Atsumu lightly nipped at the tips of your fingers. 

"'Course I'm jealous," he rasped. "You're mine."

Then, Atsumu looked at you. And what he saw in your eyes made him stumble that when you shoved him away, all he could do was stand and stare.

"I'm not your thing, Atsumu," you cried. A light-year difference from the girl who'd always stare at him so tenderly. "I never was and I never will be. I'm not yours."

You didn't run this time. You should've. 

Atsumu clenched his jaw. "Like hell ya ain't," he snarled.

People say that breakups are a messy business. Atsumu was so sure he wouldn't have to endure that, before he met you.  Now that he's had the experience, though, Atsumu can say with confidence that breakups are, in fact, a goddamn mess.

But you're over that now. It's time to turn over a new leaf and return to one another. And Atsumu's finding out, in the process, that making up can be astonishingly reminiscent of the breakup.

You started crying when you woke up, screaming for help as you tried to budge the rope that was tying your hands to your knees. You got louder when you found out that you were naked and not in the rickety confines of the beach house. 

"Welcome home, baby," he beamed, eying you from between your legs. 

The begging started when you realized how drenched your little pussy was, his tongue lapping and slathering the cum dripping from your twitching hole, against  your swollen folds; his calloused thumb massaging deep circles on your clit. 

And when he stuck another inside your puckered asshole, you writhed out of your binds and squealed, "T-tsumu-kun…!"

Fuck. 

"Babydoll," he growled. "Daddy's gotcha, daddy's gonna treat ya so fuckin' good."

He slapped your damp cunt with his long fingers, thrusting them inside to rub and feel at your walls, at the bump that never failed to make you screech. "Daddy's been mean hasn't he? Hm? Been a bad daddy to ya, baby?"

You could only gasp out wordlessly as he slurped the juices off your clit, not stopping until you were gushing, sloppy cum drizzling on the bedsheet, every muscle in spasms, incapable of even stretching out your legs although Atsumu knew you wanted to, you really wanted to so fuckin' bad, resorting to curling your toes instead. 

"E-enough, please, please, stop!"

How adorable, Atsumu thought. "My little slut," he cooed, tapping the tip of his hard cock on your pussy. "My good 'lil fucktoy."

He relished it, wanting to draw this on forever, so he slides it against your folds, pussy lips wrapping the meat of his cock, gyrating his hips back and forth, as if he were fucking you, and grabbing your tits to play with your nipples. 

"Atta girl," he laughed, licking his teeth when he finally sunk inside your tight cunt, pushing you so far down into the mattress until his chest was rubbing against your tits, your feet dangling against his shoulders.

"I don't-I don't want this, 'Tsumu," you sobbed. "Don't want this!"

Oh, of course you don't. Atsumu knows you don't. He'd fucked you against your will, after all. 

But you were taking him so well, darlin'. Your walls were hugging his cock so fuckin' nicely that he couldn't help but shove deeper inside you, craving for the way your pussy twitched rapidly around him. 

If you weren't bound, he's also sure that you'd be pushing his hips away. But that's not what's getting to him. Because as he pistoned his cock into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass, you instantly turned your face away.

Did you know that you were breaking his heart? Shattering it to pieces, when you close your eyes like doors, locking them to prevent him from ever reaching you again. 

So he gripped your chin. Forced you to meet his eyes as you wept and shook your head. 

"Am gonna be better, baby," he groaned.  "No more keeping things from ya. None of that bullshit, now."

Atsumu shivered as you came around him, convulsing under him and strained voice still begging him to stop. Because he wasn't. He would never stop. Not when it comes to you. 

"Am all yours, angel. All yours." He pounded your fucked out cunt, chasing his own high as he kneaded your tits. 

A tear fell from your eyelids. And when he kissed you, it felt like everything in his life shifted back in its rightful place. "You can have it all," he sighed, cupping your cheek.

"So give me all of you now," Atsumu pleaded. "Come back to me."

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L  |  F O U R

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   f o u r  |  k e y s

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.4k warnings: angst, s m u t, some more s m u t, teasing, finger-licking good billy boy, implied/referenced cheating, def not a healthy, functioning relationship (but like eh we persevere), some more s m u t. 

Despite your best efforts, the last few days had been miserable without Billy.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a routine he’d become over the last seven months, how much you’d both come to rely on each other and, fuck, did you miss him. You missed his smell, you missed that small little cheeky grin of his, you missed curling up beside him and feeling him over every inch of your skin. Your body craved for him in an almost primal way but, while you could live with denying your body its needs, it was your heart that hurt the most.

What was supposed to be a quick release for the two of you had never been that easy. You’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year, seen him through his various ups and downs and he’d seen yours, too. Which was precisely what made this entire situation that much harder. Not only were you dealing with your own heartache, but you were witnessing his, too.

Billy’s grief was more or less a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of thing. Ever the stoic silent type, you hadn’t expected to see much of what he was feeling splayed out on that handsome face of his, but shocking even you, his regret was palpable. And each and every time those brown eyes met yours, that grief that was as clear as day struck you blind.

You’d tried telling yourself that it was for the best because, in all honesty, it was but that didn’t make the pain go away. Nor did it make you miss him any less. You were trapped in a vicious cycle of missing Billy, sticking to your guns, and worrying about him all at once.

God, you’d really fucked up with this one.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tatum asked, narrowing her eyes at you as you shoved a handful of books into your locker. “You’ve been scatterbrained all week.”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me,” she leaned her hip against the locker. “Is this about Steve?”

You blinked as the question played on loop in your head. “Steve?” You asked, giving the strawberry blonde your full attention. “First of all, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart: ew. Secondly, huh?”

Tatum smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you’ve been acting all weird since Billy went psycho on his ass last week.”

“No, I haven’t,” you hoped your laugh didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Also, Steve’s an asshole. If the day ever comes when I am interested in that big oaf, feel free to euthanize me.”

“Promise,” she made a motion of crossing her heart, “but in the meantime, you swear nothing is up?”

“Cross my heart,” you mimicked the gesture and shut your locker. “What are you up to after practice tonight? Want to go see that new Brad Pitt movie?”

Her shoulders fell. “Can’t, Stu’s coming over,” she unwrapped a lollipop and shoved it in her mouth. “I’d say ask Sid, but she got into it with Billy last night so she’s in a mood.”

You tried not to care, you really did, but her words hit you like a freight train. “They did?” You asked, hoping beyond hope that your voice didn’t sound quite as high pitched as it sounded in your head. “What happened?”

“Who knows,” Tatum shrugged, “Billy’s always been a little intense and Sid’s been a little cagey since…well, you know – so, it’s bound to happen.”

You swallowed hard and continued to nod along to Tatum’s words. Were you nodding too frequently? Did you appear too interested all of the sudden? Catching yourself, you focused on the leftover gum on the locker just behind your friend’s head and cleared your throat. “That’s shitty.”

“Relationships,” Tatum waved off, “they’re all pretty shitty sometimes.”

Before you could finish putting your foot in your mouth any further, the third bell rang out signaling your next class. Your most dreaded class: Biology. With a groan you tossed your bag over your shoulder and frowned across at Tatum. “See you at practice?”

With a nod, Tatum took off towards her class as you slowly sauntered towards your own. You were halfway down the hall when you heard a set of heavy footfalls running towards you from behind. Glancing over your shoulder, you barely had time to register Stu’s smiling face before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “How ya doing, pal?”

“Peachy,” you scraped your eyes along his profile and blinked. “If you’re about to play the rule of dutiful henchman for you know who, I’ve got a class to flunk.”

“Harsh,” Stu beamed, “I see why our boy’s so smitten.”

With a roll of your eyes, you glanced around at the people around you and glowered up at him. “Stu,” you warned, “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“For what?” He feigned innocence. “I haven’t said a word.”

“But you want to,” you mused. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

Stu chuckled. “All I was going to say is, like, I get it.”

You shouldn’t have taken his bait. What you should have done was push him off of you and continue on your merry way to class. That would have been the smart thing to do, the responsible thing to do.

Too bad you were neither of those two things.

Roped in, you sighed in defeat. “Get what?”

“I’ll be the first to admit,” he began, “when Bill told me that you and him were…you know, I laughed. I mean, two broads, man? I can barely handle the one how’s he going to deal with two of you?”

“I’m hoping there’s a point coming,” you groused.

“Right,” he laughed again, “my point is that I get it. I get why you two work. Why he’s knee deep in this big fucking mess because of it. You two work.”

“Stu,” you threw your head back and glared at the ceiling. “Stop.”

“What?” He asked. “Am I wrong?”

You gently pushed him away from you and dropped your voice into a whisper. “That’s not the point. He’s with Sid.”

“So?” Stu made a face. “Her mom just died, what do you want him to do? Dump her and break her heart? Her mom just died, that’d callous, man.”

“We’re breaking her heart either way, whether she knows it or not.”

Stu stopped walking and there was a compassion in his stare that left you reeling. For as long as you’d known him, Stu Macher had always been the goof. The reckless, chaotic idiot that seemed to fit just perfectly into your little mish mash of a group. But the sincerity in his blue eyes as the two of you stood in the emptying hallway was a look you’d never seen before.

“And by doing this, you’re breaking yours.” He limply shrugged. “Billy’s, too.”

Your shoulders fell as the weight of Stu’s words sank in. You couldn’t exactly say much in terms of a rebuttal, naturally, because he was right. There were no happy endings for either of you at this point in the charade. Sid had still been lied to and cheated on, Billy was still trapped in a relationship he no longer wished to be in in fear of hurting the girl he once loved and you were stuck in the middle, watching two people you cared for fall to bits while having to remain stoic in fear of showing your hand.

What a fucking mess.

After another minute of silence, Stu wriggled his eyebrows and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just something to think about.”

Taking off down the hall, Stu left you to your own devices as you stood in the middle of an empty hallway with far too much on your mind. In an almost zombie-like trance, you took off in the direction of your biology class, not quite caring that you were about to be marked as tardy for the third time that week. But, before you got to that god-forsaken class, you heard the click of a door not far off before a pair of arms encircled around your middle, yanking you into the nearest classroom. A surprise yelp tore out of your mouth, but the full-fledged scream died in your throat as soon as you realized just who it was who had grabbed you.

“Jesus, Billy, you scared the hell out of me.” You grasped your chest and took in the dark, empty classroom around you. He was still holding you against the nearest wall, you could feel the heat of those large hands through your thin shirt. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry,” despite the desperation in those brown eyes, his voice never wavered. It was still as calm and collected as ever. “I’d go to your house, but it’s been like Fort Knox for the last week or so.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment before averting your eyes to the ground, not quite being able to stomach the weight of his stare just yet. “Billy, unless anything’s changed, I—”

“In case anything’s changed?” He reiterated with raised brows. “Everything’s changed. I miss you, Y/N, more than you can even comprehend. I know I’ve fucked up, I know that, but I need you. The last nine days without being able to really see you or feel you or kiss you or—”

“I get it,” you held your hands up and gently pushed him away. “And it’s been hard on me, too, Billy. But it doesn’t change anything.”

For a few, long, agonizing moments, Billy remained still as a thousand different emotions splayed out across his face. There was anger and grief, sadness and desperation. But the look you got as he dropped to his knees in front of you was pure, unadulterated fear. “I promise you, Y/N, the second I can, when the time is right, Sid and I will be no more. But me and you are it, sweetheart,” his hands gently circled around your hips before embracing you around your middle. “I’m so fucking sorry that this is how it has to be right now. And I’m sorry that I’m too fucking selfish to let this go, but I can’t. I need you. I need us. You’re everything good in my life and I know I need to start proving that to you.”

Still, you remained quiet. Your fingers itched to reach out and run your fingers through that slightly greasy, unruly mop of hair, but instead you kept them pinned down at your side as you considered his words. There was no doubt in your mind that he meant them, the desperation on his face said as much, but you had your reservations. Taking your silence in stride, however, Billy simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“Oh, jesus,” you grumbled, burying your head in your hands. “You better not be doing what I think you’re fucking doing.”

“Open the box, Y/N.”

“No,” you held your hands up. “Not if it’s…that.”

Billy sighed. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “It’s not a fucking engagement ring.”

Somewhat relieved, you continued to stare down at the box in slight disdain. “So, what is it?”

Billy sighed. “Fucking open it and you’ll see.”

“Buying the ‘other woman’ jewelry, Billy?” You shook your head. “You’re like a walking cliché at this point.”

“Shut-up and open the goddamn box.” Standing up to his full height, he continued to hold the box out towards you and breathed out a quiet laugh when you remained unwavering. “It’s not a fucking bomb, Y/N, open it.”

With a sigh, you snatched the box out of his hand and, rather unceremoniously, opened it up to reveal a key. Not a fancy skeleton key or a charm in the shape of a key but a regular, run of the mill house key. You blinked, mildly surprised. “Okay, I’ll give you a point for creativity with the box,” you pulled the key out and observed it. “But what is it?”

“It’s a key,” Billy said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“I see that,” a small smile pulled at your lips as you looked across at him. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a key to my parents’ cabin.”

If you were meant to understand the significance, the story was lost on you. Looking back down at the key, you surveyed its tiny ridges briefly before nodding. “And what’s that have to do with me?”

He took a step towards you and grabbed the hand still clutching onto the key. “My dad doesn’t go up there much ever since my mother left and I figure we could both use a place where we can just…be.” His raked his thumbnail along your knuckles. “No Sid, no anyone. Just you and me.”

You were trying to remain unfazed by the sentiment, to remain icy and cool to the man you were supposed to be pulling away from, but between the softness in those warm brown eyes and the weight of the key still clutched in your hand, you could feel your defenses waning. “You expect Sid to just not care that you’re disappearing up north every once in a while?”

“I’ll make it work,” he shrugged it off. “And, to be honest, I don’t care what she thinks.”

Your answer came in the form of a long, drawn out sigh. “Billy,” you began, but before you could dive into the rest of your speech, his large hands slid up your arms and neck to cradle your face.

Slowly, he backed you into a nearby desk and traced the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “We can sneak up there whenever we want. Spend a whole weekend up there, just the two of us. I can worship this fucking body of yours in every square inch of that cabin. I can go into town and hold your fucking hand in public. We can do whatever the hell it is we want to do up there, whenever we want, without worrying about any of our idiot friends seeing us.”

Your pulse quickened at the thought of being able to parade around like a normal couple in a town where not a single soul knew who you were. You swallowed, trying to steady your excitement with a dose of realism. “It’s still not fair to Sidney.”

“Fuck Sidney!” Billy’s voice echoed out around the vast, empty classroom, alarming you with just how angry he sounded. His chest heaved with a white-hot rage that you couldn’t fully comprehend, and his jaw was wound shut as his nostrils flared with each and every heavy, uneven breath he took. You swallowed hard and watched the man steady his nerves, unsure of your next move. You’d seen Billy angry before, but that level of emotion was definitely new.

You weren’t sure whether to be terrified or turned on by the sudden outburst.

But, just as quickly as it happened, Billy’s eyes slowly opened to reveal those molasses coloured eyes again. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he appeased. “But I can’t have her stand in the way of this. I won’t.”

You remained silent as you shimmied on top of the desk that had been poking into your ass for the last few seconds and tried not to focus on the way your body seemed to melt into Billy’s as he stepped in between your legs, still looking at you with all the intensity of the world.

“If we do this,” you found yourself muttering, “there’s going to be some ground rules.”

A sense of hope blossomed in Billy’s chest as he vigorously nodded his head. “Anything you want,” sliding his hands up the sides your stomach, he gently held your waist and gave it a small squeeze. “You name it.”

“When we go up to the aforementioned cabin, we go out.” You told him. “While I’m more than happy to blow you in the living room without worrying about your dad walking in, it would be nice to go on an actual fucking date.”

Billy nodded and, with his hands still on your waist, he tried not to focus on the thin cotton of your shirt bunching between his fingers as his thumb danced along your ribcage. There was so little between you in the empty classroom, barely any space as the two of you were practically nose to nose. And between that short little skirt you had on and your pert nipples beneath your thin tank top, it was enough to make his cock twitch inside of his pants. “Anything else?” He asked, his voice husky as he nudged his nose against yours.

“Yeah,” you ran your tongue along your now parched lips as you sat with Billy standing between your thighs, holding you in place as his thumb traced agonizingly close to your tit. Were you even breathing? It didn’t feel like it. You were wet, too, which made his inhumanly close proximity almost too much to bear. “Lock the fucking door this time.”

A roguish grin enveloped his features as he stepped out from between your legs. Crossing the threshold of the classroom in two seconds flat, Billy locked the door and made his way back to you with that same mischievous glimmer in his eye. His eyes were hungry and, as his hands shifted down to your ass, he tugged you even closer to the edge of the desk. Closer to him. With your legs still open and on either side of his hips, you just about died when your clit managed to rub against the zipper of his jeans.

A quiet, low moan tore out of your throat from the sensation.

“Anything else?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” your breathing was ragged as Billy’s slow, methodical fingers, trailed up the side of your stomach. He was being extraordinarily temperate and slow to further tease you but, despite knowing how risky this was, you were putty in his hands. “Touch me.”

His nose brushed against yours again as he shifted his hips just enough for the zipper of his jeans to rub against your clit again. The bastard knew what he was doing.

“This feel good?” He asked as his hips toiled into you again.  

You were practically dry fucking against the desk, you could have been caught any second. But, fuck, when he pulled you in a little more and slowly gyrated his jean-clad pelvis against your clit again, you couldn’t care less. “Mhmm,” you hummed.

Slowly, Billy’s dept fingers slid up from your waist towards your breasts. Raking his thumb against the swollen bud, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.

He knew his jeans were rubbing against your clit and, as he looked down and saw the visible wet patch on your blue thong, he wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you and bury his face in between your legs. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.”

When his hand squeezed your breast, you arched into his grasp. “I bet you did.”

Billy smirked and rolled your nipples between his fingers through the fabric of your shirt. With every roll of your hips, the strap of your shirt slipped down just enough to expose your breast. Without missing a beat, Billy leaned into your chest and allowed his mouth to consume your nipple, swirling his tongue around it expertly before biting down. You hissed as a combination of both pain and pleasure ripped through your body.

Your fingers curled around the hair along the nape of his neck and gave it a firm tug as is hands held you firmly in place. “Fuck, Billy” you moaned, breathless.

He released your nipple slowly, nipping at it one final time before leaning his forehead against yours again. You wanted like hell to close the distance between you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. Feel the tickle of his stubble along your upper lip and have that expert tongue brush against yours.

But you also wanted to make him sweat a little.  

You weren’t sure what had come over you as you slid your hand down your torso. Maybe it was adrenaline of being caught or the relief of having Billy in your arms again but as you allowed your fingers to dip beneath the hem of your exposed thong, the look on Billy’s face made it all worth it.

“What are you doing?” His Adams apple bobbed up and down as he watched you touch yourself. You were in an awkward angle, but as your finger circled your clit and you watched the bulge in his pants grow, you were coasting high.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” You hummed, feigning innocence. “When I say touch me, I mean it, Billy. I’m taking matters into my own hands.” You pinched your clit and arched your naked chest into him. “Fuck.”

You heard him swear under his breath as his lips ghosted over yours. “You’re doing my head in, woman,” he growled, sliding his fingers beneath your panties. You gasped when his thumb began to circle your clit. And when he slid two fingers inside of you, you nearly saw stars.

His mouth found yours, mid-moan. Reaching the hand that had just been down the waistband of your shorts, you ran your fingers through his hair as his tongue coaxed yours. Everything about this man was electric. His fingers quickened their pace and before you knew it, you were thrusting into his hand. Placing sloppy kisses down from your mouth and along your jaw, Billy nipped at your ear. “How’s this for touching you, sweetheart?” He hissed, licking and biting his way across your neck.

Your breathing was rampant as you felt yourself edging closer and closer. “It’s alright,” you teased with a cloudy grin.

“So stubborn,” he laughed into your neck and curled his fingers so that he hit an area inside you that felt almost primal. The moan he got in return made him bite down on your collarbone. He curled his fingers again and you nearly choked. “You sure?”

Pulling his hair, you steered his face back to yours and crashed your lips against his. “Fuck me.” You mumbled into his mouth.

He applied the smallest bit of pressure to your clit and flicked his fingers one final time, sending you over the cliff. With a long, shaky moan, you bucked your hips uncontrollably as you came into his hand. Every inch of you felt as though it was on fire as Billy made you ride out your orgasm, not for a second easing up on your clit as you writhed beneath him.

“Play with your tits,” he barked out through hooded eyes.

“You play with them,” you argued, but the resolve in your voice was gone. You weren’t entirely sure if you knew your name at that point. All you could focus on was the feeling of his finger pinching your highly sensitive clit and that was it. Everything else was a blur.

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn.”

You were so wet and so turned on you could barely think straight. “Billy,” you pleaded, your entire body heating up almost unbearably so. When he ignored you and instead continued his attack on your clit, you whimpered. “I need you to fuck me.”

With a bruising kiss, Billy released your clit and, in seconds flat, tugged his jeans far enough down his hips before slipping inside of you. The moan that escaped your lips was undeniable as he pumped into you. Reaching up, he grabbed your tit and squeezed as he bit down on your exposed neck. It was a sensory overload coming from all angles.

“Fuck,” Billy’s hoarse voice was in your ear as he pumped into you. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He reached for your face and tilted your chin up towards him, meeting you halfway with a sloppy kiss. Moaning into his mouth, you managed lose yourself in that instance.

Gone was the room around you.

Hell, gone was everything up until this point.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Billy inside of you. Biting down on his lip, you tugged it back as he rolled his hips in a way that made you quiver. He was thrusting, hard, in an almost animalistic that made your entire body shake with the velocity of every desperate push. He moved between kissing your lips, to biting them to suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. He was a man, unhinged, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him so sexy.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when his forehead dramatically fell against your own.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved, simply just remained still and firmly pressed against one another. But, as the weight of your current whereabouts slowly dawned on either of you, you both slowly pulled away from each other, both wearing a small smile as you re-dressed yourselves.

Once his pants were done up, Billy stepped into you once again and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Cabin this weekend, okay?”

You nodded and hopped down from the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” you teased, fixing your skirt.

Billy’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, maybe, eh?”

“Yeah,” you winked, “I’ll think about it.”

“Smart ass,” Billy smirked. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

“I’m counting on it.” Once you were both fixed up, you nodded towards his hand which was still slicked with your juices. You laughed. “Oops.”

But Billy didn’t seem fazed. Instead, your breath hitched in your throat when he raised his hand to his lips and licked your slick clear off, relishing in the taste of it with a knowing smirk on his face. “This weekend.” He reiterated, driving the point home.

“This weekend,” you agreed, walking towards the door. Ensuring nobody saw the two of you leave an empty classroom together, you unlocked the door and gave Billy a small, knowing smile. “See you at lunch, lover boy.”

[aenaxes]

lo-fi

[crosshair & tbb x afab/f!reader] it's been a tough campaign, so you and crosshair decide that the boys in the field can listen in, as a treat.

warnings: unprotected vaginal sex, consensual exhibitionism/voyeurism, polyamory, improper use of comms, crosshair being snide

w/c: 3.9k

a/n: phone sex? broke. comm sex? woke. rip @ u when the rest of the boys get back to the ship :/ (ps: thank u for 130! big mwah)

“Area’s been cleared. No sign of any seppies here,” Hunter’s weary voice wakes you with a start, crackling over your comm as you lift your head off the familiar height of Crosshair’s shoulder. “We’ll set up camp and head back at first light.”

“Better use the ‘fresher when you get back; you’ll stink up the whole ship,” Crosshair drawls back from beside you and evades you with an easy grin as you sleepily jab at his side.

Mean, you mouth at him with a frown, and the sniper simply shrugs back.

“We’ll see you soon. Love you all, y/n over,” you say, leaning over into Crosshair’s comm.

You receive a slightly disoriented chorus of ‘love you, too’s and ‘love you, cyar’ika’s from the brothers in the field, all blended together over frequency static and the sheer exhaustion of four rotations trekking through the marshy Balnab underbrush. Luck on your side, as navigator, you had escaped the dreary fate of noxious swamp gas and heat rashes in the unlikely case that the boys might need a quick exit.

But luckier still, Crosshair had stayed behind with you, citing your very real lack of combat training as grounds to have at least one of the brothers stay behind and stand guard. After all, volunteer corps boot camps could only teach you so much. And donning that trademark grin that made you either want to kiss him senseless or smack him upside the head (depending on your mood), Crosshair had innocently claimed that if he couldn’t see through the gaseous atmosphere, how could he know where to aim, much less shoot?

(You use your karkin’ scope, shitwad, Echo had said with the sickliest smile possible, and even he couldn’t help but join in when you and the boys all erupted into uncontrollable laughter.)

Suffice to say, Crosshair had spent the last two days holed up in the Marauder with you, a couple games of gin rummy, and a few steep new favors owed to his brothers’ grumbling.

For all the cool circulating air and dehumidifier settings in the Marauder’s helm, with the viewport fogged by the greenish atmospheric haze and your only task to wait for either a distress or all-clear signal, the little card games had gotten predictable after the second day. You had been tempted, out of some combination of boredom and fantasy, to prompt a game of strip poker (though Crosshair’s various bits of armour would have given him the indubitable upper hand, even with his horrible poker face).

Tempted, not even tried. You were all too aware of the uneasy stress of the mission outside, that low-lying tension and anticipatory dread staving off any coy desire to take advantage of your time alone with Crosshair.

But now, with the all-clear signal loud and clear through the comms, there’s little holding your inhibitions back when Crosshair reaches up and ruffles your hair after you click off his comm. Regardless of how innocuous his touch may be, heat rushes to your cheeks as you lean into his palm.

“Needy,” Crosshair chuckles, quick to catch on to your preening under his hand.

“I’ve been so patient,” you exhale a grand sigh, your voice carrying the petulant playfulness that never fails to pull Crosshair into the chase. And based on the lopsided grin twisting over his lips, you’ve got him exactly where you want him. “Don’t tell me you aren’t feeling at least a little bit of the same.”

“You’re insatiable,” he snarks. But he’s already rising to his full stature and crowding you back against the nearest surface, his hands firm and insistent over your waist as the backs of your knees meet the cool holotable steel.

“Right,” you retort, lifting your chin and baring your neck to him when he dips his head low to kiss over your pulse. The first touch is always careful—it comes with the territory, sharpshooting, all calculated movements with little space for error—but Crosshair’s intentionality is no less desirous, mouthing over your skin as you feel one hand drag slow and heavy up from your waist to your neck. “I’m the needy one.”

“You’re the enabler,” Crosshair mumbles into your skin, and you can’t help the dreamy sigh that passes your lips when you feel his fingertips knead soft, slow motions over the base of your neck. “I’m just running with the punches.”

“Maker, you suck at talking sexy,” you laugh, brighter still when you feel Crosshair’s soft exhale over your skin as he stifles laughter of his own.

“Then let’s not,” he says and lifts his head to offer you a wry smile. Before you can humor any more dry banter, Crosshair pulls you flush against the hard lines of his chestplate, one hand curled over the base of your head and the other sliding around the small of your back, and swallows any words you had with his tongue.

Second nature, you lift your arms to curl over his shoulders and anchor him close.

Crosshair takes your invitation with ease, pressing his tongue over your lips before he gently shifts you up to seat you on the holotable edge and slots between your thighs. It doesn’t take the firm weight of his hand to have you rocking forward to meet him in a slow grind, and you lift one knee, hooking your calf over the hard edge of his thigh guard and pulling him closer still.

He pulls back, and you respond with a petulant whine, weakly tugging on his hip with your leg. Crosshair laughs, little but a soft huff, but one that has equal parts desire and frustration rising in your chest. Seeming to have caught on, Crosshair only leans forward enough to meet you with a chaste touch of his lips, but, desperate for more, you take the brief window of opportunity to reach up and tug his head to yours.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” you mumble insistently, punctuating your request with a soft nip over Crosshair’s top lip. You gasp when you feel his gloved fingers grab, twisting your hair tight under his fist and tearing you from his lips.

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he snarks back, his brows raised in playful challenge. “You take what you get,” he snarls, his lips curled up in a sharp grin as he yanks your head to the side and he dips close. You feel his breath fan over your skin, a brief and heady warning before he crowds you close and drags his tongue from the edge of your jaw to the highest crest of your cheek.

Desire, sweet and cloying, curls over your spine as he steps back, leaving you in a dazed sort of stupor as you watch him make quick work of the plastoid secured over him. It takes you a moment to collect yourself, ready to launch a snide remark his way, but whatever you intended to say is far beyond coherent thought, let alone expression. He finally closes that small distance between you, presses the hard lines of muscle and sinew close between your thighs, and your head falls back against the cold tabletop as you sigh.

He’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and you can’t get enough.

It’s different between each of them. There is careful intention with Hunter, playful and boyish glee in Wrecker’s arms, the stern edge of authority when Echo presses you against the wall, Tech’s rosy warmth when he kisses you sweet. But Crosshair offers you the snide challenge, the push and pull of teasing one-upmanship when he shoots you a smug grin, pushes your thighs open, and spits onto your cunt.

“Probably didn’t need to do that,” he says a bit mildly as he brings two calloused fingers up against your cunt and gently parts your swollen sex. You might have mistaken his soft exhale as laughter when you clench down around achingly empty space, but you know better. As he lifts his hand to your lips and pushes your own arousal past your lips, watching you take his fingers deep and suck, you know better. (It’s awe.)

“Fuck off, and fuck me,” you moan around his fingers, gently nipping over his skin.

“Are you really in any position to be making demands?” Crosshair snorts and pushes his fingers down against the flat of your tongue. You bite his fingers a little harder in response, and vindictive justice crows over the haze of lust in your chest when he hisses through a grin.

“Oh, please. You want this more than I do,” you roll your eyes, crinkling your nose as he smears your own spit over your lips before he pulls away.

Catching the slight part in Crosshair’s lips, you ready another snide retort. There’s an art to foreplay with Crosshair’s cynicism. But any coherent thought promptly dies on your tongue when, instead of a snappy comeback, Crosshair kneads one hand tight over your hip, presses the blunt head of his cock up against your cunt, and pushes.

It doesn’t get old—you don’t suspect it ever will—the satisfying burn pooling warm in your gut when Crosshair anchors you to the holotable and stretches you open. For that one, long moment, the clever, biting banter you share has vanished, leaving only slow, hitching breaths and the cresting ache of want to fill its place. You don’t hold the same playful joy of victory over his head when you open your eyes to see him groan, too enraptured by your own pleasure, by the gorgeous picture he presents you, his brows furrowed and eyes fluttered shut, to poke fun at how he bows over the table edge and braces himself over you with a stuttering inhale.

You cry out with him when you finally feel him press as deep as he can, the trembling muscle of his thighs molded up against your skin. Crosshair dips low, close enough that you feel his every heaving inhale brush against your chest, and you only see love, love, love, raw and tender and so, so good when you look through your lashes and catch the warmth in his dark eyes.

That this was it, that you were as good as it would ever get.

“Ready?” he whispers, play hinting at the edges of his voice as he strokes his thumb over your hip.

“Is that even a question?” you giggle.

Silent discretion isn’t necessarily something you strive for, not since the boys heartily accepted your trembling confession that one just wasn’t enough. You’ve long since learned to dismiss any flare of bashful embarrassment that might have you clap your hand over your mouth when Echo pulled you into the nearest room or Wrecker decided that he couldn’t wait for the few quick steps between the armory and the bunk hall. But it’s obscene, the sound that bubbles up from your throat when Crosshair abruptly pulls out of your dripping cunt and shoves himself back in full.

Too high on the euphoria heavy and thick in your throat, you barely register the soft kiss he presses to the corner of your mouth before he rises up and begins fucking into you in earnest. Your eyes flutter open when you feel his rough fingertips dig into the junction of your thigh and hip, trailing low for a brief, uncertain moment before he finds your clit and presses firm over where you part around him. And when you strain your ears above the breathy whines spilling from your lips, when you squeeze down around him with a soft sob, you hear him gasping with you.

This was really as good as you would ever need it to get.

“Wait,” you laugh a bit breathlessly, squirming under his touch. “Wait, let’s call them.”

Crosshair fixes you with something like morbid intrigue, his gentle, firm movements over your clit falling still so he can offer you the unspoken question behind a quirked brow.

“The area’s clear; they’re tired; morale’s low, you know. I think it’d be fun,” you rationalize as a coy smile grows on your lips.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about this entire campaign?” Crosshair finally asks. Despite the almost disinterested drawl in his voice, you both know it’s a weak cover for the mischievous delight at the prospect of teasing desire in front of his field-weary brothers.

“Maybe,” you breathe, breath hitching as he rolls his thumb over your clit.

“So vulgar,” Crosshair chuckles, rolling his eyes when you blow him a kiss and fall back onto the tabletop.

But he’s already reaching for his discarded commlink and shuffling it back on. He secures the plastoid snug over his forearm, and when he shifts forward to steady himself as the locks snap into place, he shifts up and presses firm against the spot in your cunt that has you arching off the holotable with a low whine.

“Save it for them, yeah?” Crosshair chuckles, and he presses for Tech’s comm.

“Crosshair?” Tech mumbles groggily, apparently having just awoken to Crosshair’s impromptu call.

“So good of you to answer,” Crosshair drawls into his bracer. As much as you’d like to sit back up and swat his audible smirk off of his lips, the snark dies on your tongue when he shifts forward hard, the firm lines of his hips connecting firm against your ass as you sink your teeth into your arm to stifle your sob.

“Is everything alright?” Tech asks through a yawn. And you would laugh at his sleepy obliviousness if you weren’t quite literally seeing stars, blinding iridescent comet trails across your field of vision, when Crosshair slips his free arm under your waist, secures you tight, and pushes his cock impossibly deeper into you. All you can do is bite down over your uniform sleeve and wonder if your high whine reaches the comm feed.

“Fine, really,” Crosshair says with a breezy flippancy that you don’t currently have the mental capacity to find irritating. “Mind telling the others to pick up?”

“Maker, this better be for a good reason,” Echo’s frequency crackles to life, albeit somewhat sourly. Following his voice, you register a hearty yawn from Wrecker’s line, and not a moment later, Hunter’s light quietly blinks on.

“Is y/n on?” Tech asks.

“Mm, she is,” Crosshair punctuates his words with another sharp thrust that has your toes curling in your boots as your legs jerk over his arms. The saccharine tenderness of earlier gives way to the smug tone you have grown to (begrudgingly) adore. “Come on, say hello.”

“H-Hi,” you whimper into your comm, trembling as Crosshair digs his fingers over the soft skin of your thigh and slowly pulls out of your cunt, just until the ridge of his cock catches on your stretched lips. This time, when he thrusts forward there is no measured, careful deliberation—only raw and rapidly unraveling need as he sheathes himself inside you with one smooth motion and crushes up against that soft spot inside you that has you sobbing over your comm.

If they hadn’t heard your soft, muffled noises before, they certainly have, now.

The collective feed goes quiet.

“Holy shit.”

And then all at once, it’s a staticky blend of voices when the realization finally sinks in and exhaustion has all but been forgotten for the night.

You hear Wrecker groan just above Hunter’s gasping, flushed “oh,” and you’re fairly certain you catch Echo and Tech synchronize a low, drawn “fuuuck” as you sigh. But Crosshair gives you little space to register the sudden and raucous desire over the channel when he cants his hips forward and fucks into you deep.

This may have been your idea in the beginning, but whatever control you thought you had has long gone as you scrabble for purchase over the cold holotable top. The teasing game, dangling the possibility of having in front of the boys in the field, is now simply a show out of your hands as you moan into your comm.

“How does she feel?” Wrecker asks, his voice breathy and low.

“So fuckin’ wet,” Crosshair laughs, angling another sharp thrust against the spot that makes you see stars.

You grip tighter to the edge of the holotable with a choked moan. There’s something so indescribably rousing to hearing them speak over you as if you aren’t even there, rutting desperately back against Crosshair’s hips as you sigh and moan into the commlink clutched over your wildly beating heart.

“Our poor little cyar’ika went four whole days without being touched—she’s dripping. Tell them how much you needed this,” Crosshair croons, a mocking sharpness curling at the edges of the gentle tone of his voice. “Tell them how much you need them.”

You tremble under him as his hips meet yours hard enough to knock the air from your lungs, unable to do more than whine as you feel him snake his arm up your chest and curl his fingers around your neck.

“I—I need you!” you manage, your words only soft sighs pulled from what little breath Crosshair affords you through a steady, devastating pace. “Maker, I miss you so much—!”

Eyes squeezed shut, you fight the urge to quell every noise that claws at your throat. As obscene as it makes you sound, your boys are nowhere near as close as Crosshair, able to do little else but close their eyes and dream of you through the modulated channel frequency alone. It’s the least you can do, you think, and you moan as Crosshair shifts his hips up hard.

“He makin’ you feel good, cyar’ika?” Hunter’s voice crackles over the channel. “Pretty baby, you feelin’ good?”

“Mmhm!” you whimper, nodding wildly as if they’re not camped out a few hundred klicks from the ship, as if they’re there, bearing witness as Crosshair pulls you apart with every insistent, heady motion he makes.

“You’re a big girl,” Crosshair sneers, digging his fingers into the soft skin of your waist as he fucks into you sharp enough it punches the breath from your lungs. “Use your words.”

“So—” Your voice wavers over a gasp. “Feels so good!”

“Attagirl,” you hear Echo groan.

You can’t imagine how much of a mess you must look, jaw slack and eyes rolled back into your head, drunk on nothing short of hedonistic joy in its purest form, legs jerking over Crosshair’s arms when he fucks a particularly deep thrust into your cunt. Maybe you’ll try a call over the holo next time.

“Close,” you whimper.

But as soon as the words leave your tongue, you realize your mistake, panic flooding in your throat when Crosshair raises his brows, a wicked grin on his lips, and simply. Stops.

“Are you, now?” Crosshair chuckles, and if you weren’t there, dangling at that precarious precipice, so, so close to the kind of pleasure that wracks through your body so hard you forget your own name, you might have slung some acerbic jumble of words his way. But you are there, twisting your hips for any sort of purchase while Crosshair offers you a knowing smile.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, only to be cut short, your words swallowed by your wailing moan when Crosshair fucks into you, a shallow thrust that pushes you closer, closer to the aching pleasure just out of reach.

“Oh, that wasn’t nice, was it?” Crosshair taunts.

The boys murmur over the channel, all soft laughter while they imagine your flustered desperation, wishing it was them back on the ship, stuck to lookout duty, blessed with the cool air of the helm and your warm cunt fluttering around them.

“What do you say?” Crosshair laughs breathily into his comm, dragging one slow finger over your throbbing clit, firm enough that it sparks want through your chest but too light to do little more than tease. You sob under his touch. “Does our girl deserve to come?”

“Let’s ask her,” Echo rasps, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, your mouth waters at the hazy mental image of the eldest’s lidded gaze, his cock fisted heavy in his hand as he whispers into his comm. “You think you deserve it, cyare?”

“Please,” you gasp. It’s more than a simple response, rather, a plea for something, anything, that little bit of more to push you over the razor thin edge between teasing pleasure and release.

“Gotta answer the question, little one,” Wrecker chokes out past a straining chuckle.

“Maker, you know what I mean—!” you whie, shuddering at the jolt of pleasure that laces up your spine when Crosshair wraps his arm over your thigh and presses deeper than you thought possible.

“Answer it,” Tech breathes.

“Fuck—I deserve it!” you finally sob, and your thighs clench when you hear Hunter groan over the channel. “Maker, I deserve it!”

You’re not sure if it’s your own confession ringing in your ears or the sensation of Crosshair squeezing his hands over your waist that finally tips that delicate balance between your excruciating anticipation and release, stirring wild and devastating from low in your stomach as you arch off the holotable and scream. It crashes over you in an endlessly overwhelming wave, swallowing you whole in nothing but simple, luxuriant pleasure fizzling at your fingertips and blurring your vision with euphoric tears while Crosshair shudders, head hung low as you clench down around him.

“That’s it,” Wrecker croons. Somehow, you’re still able to catch his adoring praise over the frequency, your focus turned to the way Crosshair continues to coax your pleasure, drawing it long and desperate with what thin strands of composure remain.

A final, stuttering thrust, and Crosshair drapes himself over you, burying himself as deep as he can in your fluttering cunt and groaning softly as he fills you with warm, heavy spurts of come. All you can do is whine and pulse around him, losing yourself to the mercy of every passing sensation that sparks delirious pleasure up your spine.

“We’ll be back soon, sweet thing.”

You weakly turn your head to face the blinking comm light beside you, reduced to a blurry spot of red muddled by the lingering tears in your eyes. It’s a miracle you can hear Hunter’s voice over the dull buzz in your ears at all, but even through your exhaustion, his voice strikes want, warm and deep, through your core.

You mumble something unintelligible to your own ears in response, little more than a sign of life as Crosshair steps back and clicks off your comm.

“Quite the show,” Crosshair laughs softly, leaning close to curl his palm at your jaw and thumb at the tears beaded over your lashes. He presses his lips to your temple, and you bask under his touch. “Did such a good job, cyare.”

“When I can’t walk in two days,” you rasp through the dry itch in your throat from your (retrospectively) embarrassing show of being as loud as humanly possible over the comms. “I expect you all to take turns carrying me everywhere.”

Crosshair snorts, tapping the soft skin of your inner thigh to carefully drag his fingertips through the mess of come and slick smeared over your cunt. “Two days? It took them four to get out to the mark.”

And he’s right. The soft, fluvial wetland outside was far from conducive for fast travel, even with a clear mark and sharp navigation. But all things considered, you wouldn’t be surprised if the boys were packing up and leaving camp now, all for the chance to board and throw you onto the nearest bunk a few odd days faster.

“Four credits they’re leaving right now,” you laugh.

“Let’s make it four credits they’ll make it back in two,” Crosshair offers. He dips low and brushes his forehead close against yours, sharing soft laughter as you reach up to stroke over the back of his head.

They make it back in one.

[draggingthedregs]

Hello! I love your writing so much! Can you write some kanej with Kaz being protective of Inej? If not that’s completely fine :) thank u!

a/n: okay so I always really struggle with “protective Kaz” things because I feel like he knows that she can most definitely take care of herself and he respects her for that. So this is what I came up with to try and meet in the middle. There’s that scene in Six of Crows where Kaz sends Inej to get rid of Rojakke (is that how you spell it? Idk he was in one scene, his name is not the point) and then when they’re back in his office that night he asks like “Did he put up a fight?” and she says “Nothing I couldn’t handle” and he says “Not what I asked” so thats where the idea for this came from, thank you bye. 

word count: 2634

There was something about the floor of the Crow Club that set Kaz at ease.

Its endless cacophony of coins bouncing from table to floor, the spinning of Makkers Wheel, the laughter floating onto the street, and, his personal favorite, the flipping that only accompanied a deck of cards. Somedays he thought he’d be content to shuffle at a table forever.

It was then that Inej pushed through the entryway, shaking off the rain that rarely ceased to pour over the crowded city. She pulled her hood down, her inky hair braided into a long rope laying against her shoulder. Kaz traced every inch of her, as he often did when she entered a room: the slope of her nose, the smile she flashed to the greetings shouted in her direction, the knives strapped to her hips. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him he’d also be content to be with her forever.

There were times he hated the things that he would notice, hated how his brain slipped past the innocent intention of watching to a sinister place of touch and consequence. He flipped the thoughts over in his head, studying them from every angle like he would a card trick, trying to mold them into different pictures. But the images froze in place anyway; the feel of her skin against his burned like fire, even in an illusion.

Most of all, he hated that he couldn’t force these delusions into reality, couldn’t touch her how he wanted, couldn’t force the bile down and only feel Inej’s warmth.  

As she approached him, nodding to the private game rooms at the back of the club, giving him a clear view of her, he saw that something was amiss. Scarlet bloomed through her vest and onto her sleeve, trailing down to her thigh. He followed her, shutting the heavy door behind them and turning its complex series of locks. She’s upright. That’s all you should care about. 

“The Exchange was crawling with Stadwatch. Security must be tight since the incident.” 

“Did they see you?”

Inej practically scoffed, leaning her weight against the wooden table. “No. But I’m sure they’ll find someone who fits their bill. You know as well as I do, the council will want this quieted soon.”

Kaz nodded. Two weeks ago, the Exchange had been robbed, and though it was never publicly released, Kaz knew exactly what was stolen. After all, he had all the stocks and shipment papers locked in his safe as they spoke. 

Roeder had been the one to pull off the job originally, this being one of the few things Kaz had required a spider for while she was busy at sea. He had done a mediocre job, but he was sloppy with locks and leaving the place as he’d found it. Going back to the scene of the crime seemed too risky a gamble but when Inej returned, she knew she could scrape it. And Kaz wasn’t going to start doubting the Wraith’s abilities now. 

He flipped through the file she handed him. To anyone else, it may have looked useless, just pages and pages of numbers and times, scratchy handwritten tables filled with nonsense. But to him, and to a mercher with half a whit, this was key to investing. With the talleys and dates in hand, he would know what shipments to bank on and where to place his shares for the next few months. 

“As always, the Wraith pulls through.”

Inej nodded and pulled her hood up once more. “You’re welcome.”

Kaz gave her another once over, slower than intended. “What happened?” He blurted, his voice sounding like a low growl in his throat.  

Inej looked down at herself, brows knitted, studying the blood on her trousers. “Bullet or two from a guard just shooting at shadows.” With her brief summary of events, she took her weight off the table, readying herself for the journey back into the wet.

Kaz felt a sinking in his chest at the thought of her walking away from him, even if it was just to her apartment, and he hated himself for it. Now especially with her covered in blood, he couldn’t stomach the thought of her leaving. Without meaning to, he had taken himself back to before she had left.

It had been Inej’s last night before heading to sea when they had tried to pretend they were normal, that there wasn’t still so much between them. Kaz sat next to her on his bed, bad leg out in front of him, avoiding her gaze. 

“We don’t have to do this at all.”

But he did. Kaz had to prove that he had come further than this. I can best this… 

When she set sail the next morning, the feeling of failure settled deep within him, right beside the feeling that this time, he may never get her back from the sea. 

Now, he couldn’t help but stop her. “Inej-” he began. 

She turned, her hand resting on the doors heavy handle.

He made up the steps between them to stand beside her. Kaz forced himself to give any semblance of explanation, knowing that he’d promised to give her what she deserved and knowing that he was currently failing. “Let me walk with you.”

Inej nodded, dropping her hand as Kaz unlocked the door and opened it for her. He felt awkward, and quite frankly stupid; opening it as if she was some pretty girl that couldn’t handle the difference between whether to push or pull. She strided through anyway and he followed, silently cursing himself and hoping the grimace on his face looked normal for his temperament. Once they’d made it to the street, she slowed to walk beside him. 

At first, neither of them spoke. Then, in her gentle and hushed tone, perhaps to avoid his inevitable questions about her evening, “Am I getting a personal escort through the Barrel?”

Kaz needn’t look down to feel the smile in her voice. “Is that what you’d prefer to call it?”

“It isn’t exactly an evening stroll down the canal, is it?”

“I suppose not.” He cringed at the sound of his own rasp, smashing against the lift of her voice like waves against stone. Though from what he could tell, she didn’t do the same. Inej only shrugged, tugging her hood forward against the drizzle. 

“I only meant that I should feel lucky to get the King of the Barrel to myself for the night.”

Kaz thought he might keel over. “I am a busy man, but I still find time to survey my kingdom.”

Inej only rolled her eyes and kept her gaze straight forward. A moment of silence nestled between them, leaving only the sound off the East Stave hanging in the air. After fighting with himself for what seemed like far too long, his gaze settled atop her.

“Yes?”

Kaz swallowed hard, “Did you miss Ketterdam?” Did you miss me? 

She considered his question, and to him, the silence stretched through the air like a rubber band about to break. 

“I did. More than I thought I would.” Inej finally relented. Her voice had drifted to a somber place, a quiet stillness replacing the humor she’d had minutes before. 

They had turned down a back alley, the darkness consuming them in sore contrast to the dazzling lights of the Stave. Their footsteps echoed in a syncopated rhythm, his awkward gait and cane paired with her near-soundless steps. 

Maybe it was the high of having her back, walking next to him through Ketterdam as they’d done so many times before, but he hadn’t realized the direction they’d been walking. They approached the Slat, its crooked frame jutting out from the foundation at a welcoming tilt. He glanced down to Inej once more, watching as she took in the building, trying to see it through her eyes, as he wished to see much of the world. 

“Is the Captain afraid of her old nest?”

If he had intended it as a jab, she didn’t take it as such. Inej shook her head once, “It just feels like home…” 

She moved before he did, taking a deep breath of the stale air inside as she stepped through the threshold. There was movement, as there always was, but the Slat was quiet this time of night and Kaz was thankful. It meant that, selfishly, he could keep Inej upstairs and to himself for as long as he could come up with things to talk about. Perhaps they’d even sit on his bed and she would allow him to make up for the last time they’d found themselves there. 

Kaz marveled at her as she took the creaky stairs ahead of him, the steps creaking beneath his weight after seemingly not registering her. His eyes once again wandered to the blood stains that covered her. He felt a hair-pin trigger go off in his chest and suddenly, there was anger. 

Stop that. She isn’t yours to save. 

Inej waited for him to open the door, sidestepping as they both now stood on the landing. If Kaz hadn’t just been studying her, he might have missed her change in demeanor and the way she shifted her weight to the wall behind her.  

“Inej.”

“Hm?”

Kaz attempted to even his tone. “How bad are they?” 

“What?”

His voice sounded like stones grinding against one another, “The bullet wounds.”

She shrugged but he could see the stress of the evening in her features. Her limbs seemed heavy and her eyelids fought to open with every blink. With a shove, Kaz unlocked his office door, forcing the warped wood open and, without hesitation, Inej followed him in, taking in the room as she clicked the locks back into place.

He leaned his cane against the makeshift desk and shucked his gloves off as he approached the cabinet beneath his wash basin, digging through its drawers for gauze and shears. Behind him, he heard the familiar creak of his window opening. The smell of rain against the cobblestones wafted toward him. 

“Your window seat has felt neglected. Your crows too.”

“Does that mean you stopped feeding them while I was gone?”

No. They reminded me of you. I couldn’t let another piece of you go. “They’re scavengers. I’m sure they managed.”

It was then that Kaz turned to see her standing by his bed. Inej looked up, her cheeks flushing red like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been. He only walked over, setting the bandages on the thin mattress. “So I don’t have to find a heartrender for you.”

“They really aren’t that bad-”

“You’ve bled through your clothes. They’re bad enough.”

Inej cleared her throat as she began removing layers of knives and clothes. Kaz’s eyes roved over her, the pounding in his chest growing louder. He hated it. 

 Her arms and shoulders were covered in fresh scars, some of them still red and scabbed, and the bruises on her ribs were still deep purple. 

“Slavers don’t give up their cargo easily.” Inej’s voice came out with caution, as if she was waiting to see his reaction. 

His gaze met hers, voice carving into the air like a rusted blade. “Where are they all now?”

“Dead.”

A sense of pride cracked through him as a rare smile settled on his lips. Kaz nodded. “Good.” 

She picked up a strip of bandage, wrapping it around the bullet wound on her bicep, silence filling the space between them. Inej didn’t need to look up to feel the weight of his eyes on her. A flush crept to the tops of her ears. “I didn’t want you to see.”

It was rare for Kaz Brekker to be confused and yet, here he was. 

“I thought you might kill someone. Or start to doubt that I could handle myself.”

“I could never doubt you. Only a fool would.” It was only after he said it that he realized it had been aloud. 

Inej tied off the bandage then glanced down to the blood on her pants.  

“I can-”

“No.” She said, finally making eye contact with him again. “Stay.”

For his sake and hers, Kaz turned his head to avoid staring as she shimmied out of the bloodied fabric. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and poked around for any bullet fragments, the muscles in her thigh tensing, the dried blood on her skin looking black. Inej was just as strong as ever; all her limbs built of corded muscle coated in the lithe grace of an acrobat, just as he remembered. Despite his better judgement, Kaz took a long look at her. 

It’s shame that eats men whole. He could feel it gnawing at him as he attempted to push away the image of her bare thighs against his sheets. 

“Kaz, can you-?” She nodded to the scissors, her hands stuck at an awkward angle around her leg, the apprehension on her face clear. 

He picked them up and took a deep breath before sitting down beside her. When he leaned over, he was careful not to touch her. Her breath stirred the hair on the back of his neck. One turn of his head and their lips would have been inches apart. This reminded him far too much of the hotel washroom; he only hoped it would end better. 

Kaz cut the bandage gently, taking the end from her and tying it, his knuckles grazing against her skin. Panic hit him before anything else, afraid he had overstepped. It took him a moment to realize there was no revulsion roiling through him. 

“Inej-”

“It’s alright… Thank you.”

He nodded, grabbing what was left of the bandages and the shears and placing them on top of his dresser. Then he opened one of his drawers, rummaging through the mess of clothes until he found what he had been looking for. 

Kaz handed her a pair of cotton sleep trousers. “I can’t imagine yours are salvageable.”

Inej smiled, sliding them over her legs. They were huge on her. And though they hadn’t discussed her sleeping arrangements for the evening, it appeared she would be staying there. 

He sat back down, staring at his bare hands; the hands that had just graced her without trouble or hesitation. She reached over, threading her fingers through his, and studied him, watching for the shift. But it never came. 

“Will you lay with me?”

At that, he looked up. 

In front of him was a girl who deserved so much more than Dirtyhands. A girl who made the sea cower and made the sun look dull. A girl who could have done anything she wished in life with ease and grace. And yet- she was sat in his bed, holding his hand, and patiently waiting for the semblances of affection he could provide. 

Kaz felt himself nod. 

She pushed herself back until she was against the wooden headboard. They both moved slowly, carefully placing their limbs so there was no overlap. 

Then, he was laying beside her; both of their heads turned to study each other.

“Thank you.” Inej’s voice nearly a whisper. 

The minutes stretched into hours, and Kaz lay listening to her breathing. I will have you without armor. 

Well after twelve bells, the cadence of sleep seemed to grab hold of him, weighing heavy on his body. As his eyes drifted shut, he hoped that there would be more nights like this: nights with Inej close by his side and stillness in his mind. 

He reached for her hand in the dark and promised he would not let go come morning. He would never let go of her again. 

[mooniefics]

AFTER CONTEMPLATING FOR SEVERAL MINUTES:

reiner braun 🤪 + “please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”

this is literally the cutest moonie, i'm proud of you for hitting 250!! ilysm 💖✨💕

oh my gosh i’m so sorry this took me so long,, thank u so much for the request n the congratulations mar !! very happy that my first work for this event can be for my love, our one n only reiner ♡(｡- ω -)

in all your years of knowing reiner, you couldn’t say that you’d ever once heard him sounding so frantic.

“please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”

those were the exact words he’d used over the phone, imploring for you to come to the official marley high ten-year reunion and pose as his girlfriend. despite how you assured him that you were certain no one would judge him for being single, he seemed adamant that it would be the exact opposite. and after a few apologies for your laughter at his predicament and a brief negotiation over his payment of getting you your favorite drink from the cafe near your workplace for the next few weeks, it was a done deal.

though you admittedly felt a twinge of anxiety upon entering the venue of chattering adults, dressed in the best semi-formal outfit you had in your closet, you could see that he was the more obviously nervous one between the two of you.

“just relax, rei.” you murmured, slipping your hand in his and giggling at the way his arm tensed, “these are your high school friends! i’m sure they’ll be surprised enough that you managed to find a nice girl like me all by yourself—“ he huffed disapprovingly, earning another small laugh, “—and only ask about your work or something.”

you barely finished your brief attempt at a pep talk when a loud voice came from somewhere by the food table. “is that you, braun?!”

reiner’s jaw shifted, a sign you’d come to learn meant him holding back a wince, turning to see a man with slicked back hair and a broad grin on his face approaching. based on his heavy-lidded gaze, paired with the red solo cup tipping dangerously horizontal in his grasp, you assumed he was quite tipsy already.

“considering how late you are, i wasn’t sure you’d even show,” he chuckled, still having to peer up at reiner despite still being taller than you, “but the more i thought about it, the more i remembered you never were the punctual type anyways.”

“great to see you too, porco..” reiner replied half-heartedly, palm already getting clammy in your grasp.

you glanced momentarily between them, deciding to come to your friend’s rescue by clearing your throat, drawing the teasing attention away from him. “actually, he was late because of me.” you flashed a smile, leaning into reiner’s side. “just wanted to look my best since i knew i was gonna be meeting his old friends.”

“holy shit..” porco muttered after a moment of silence, hazel eyes blowing wide as he stared at you like you’d disappear if he blinked even once, only breaking his gaze to turn over his shoulder and call out, “piecky, c’mere! i think reiner’s actually got a fuckin’ girlfriend!!”

you barely stifled a laugh at reiner’s low sigh of discomfort, pointedly ignoring how the people around glanced at porco’s shout. “did you seriously used to hang around with that guy?”

“no..” he grumbled back, “he hung around the people i hung around with and always gave me shit for no reason.”

“wow, rei, feeling a little feisty tonight, are we?”

he scoffed as you reached up to poke at his cheek, able to see the pink flush that had settled over his sharp features despite the dim lighting, dodging your inquiry while he looked ahead. “he’s coming back.”

putting on the smile you’d practiced so many times right back on, you caught sight of a cheerful dark-haired woman sidling over to your small group. “reiner?! you seriously got even taller? who’s this?”

you both exchanged names, offering a hand for her to shake which she eagerly took, turning to reiner for affirmation of your identity, to which he said, “yeah, she's my.. girlfriend...”

“how long have the two of you been together?”

“a couple months—”

“—almost a year.”

you quickly laughed off the sudden nerves of giving conflicting answers, turning back to reiner’s friends and recovering with, “we’re not super big on keeping track of dates. you know how time flies when you love someone.” you turned up to reiner, lips perking into a doting smile, “right?”

his cheeks flushed an even darker red, a sheepish smile brightening his expression. “right.”

“looks like you’re the only single one, pock.” pieck teased, laughing when the man rolled his eyes and huffed.

“you’re still with zeke?” reiner asked, prompting her to extend her left hand, waggling her fingers to show off the large diamond ring on her finger.

“yep, engaged for two years now!”

“apparently still too good to come to anything she invites him to.” porco grumbled in response.

“i already told you he’s on a business trip,” she frowned, taking his cup from his hand and taking a generous sip from it, “i’m sure he would’ve come if he hadn’t had somewhere else to be.”

“whatever you say..” he sighed, letting her finish his drink despite his apparent annoyance.

thankfully, your small slip up had been ignored, allowing both you and reiner to relax when the two finally turned their attention back to you. the night progressed much less turbulently than you’d previously anticipated, reiner allowing you to handle any questions directed at your relationship, not saying anything when you frequently slipped in little white lies to make everything seem more convincing. it didn’t stray terribly far from the truth, you were entirely honest about the way you’d met and the things that had made you “fall in love with him”. 

you took a strange amount of joy in posing as his significant other, just as he gave equally genuine reactions when you wrapped his arm around your shoulder or ate something from his plate of food, flustered and smiling all throughout. for a few brief moments, you almost forgot that he was meant to be pretending too. he’d seemed more than happy to see that you were getting along well with all his old friends.

you learned more about reiner in the hour that you’d been milling around the room with him than you probably ever had in the confines of the job environment that you’d met him in—intrigued to hear that he’d been the captain of the football team, feuded with the neighboring high-school’s while being head over heels for the captain of their cheer team, held the title of champion arm-wrestler for all four years he attended marley—little details that you made you would’ve never known had you never agreed to come. the unintentionally intimidating, humble, easy-to-fluster human resources manager that you’d befriended apparently used to be a total jock, always getting himself into trouble. 

and, based on how many times you’d been congratulated on managing to stick by his side for longer than a few months, you could only assume that you hadn’t even scratched the surface of discovering the entirety of reiner’s character.

eventually, your small group of four that’d you started out the night with had reconvened, tipsy from constantly sipping on spiked punch, an excited exclamation from pieck made all of you turn. “look! the photo booth finally opened up!!”

she was already rushing away for the corner of the venue before anyone could say a word, everyone following suit with a laugh as she stuffed a five dollar bill into the pay slot.

“uhh, pieck, i think this thing was only meant for two people.. max.” porco said after drawing open the curtain, earning a frown from her.

“but i want us all to take a picture together!” she slid into the booth despite the observation, turning to you, “c’mon, i’m sure we could all squeeze in if you sat on reiner’s lap.”

you felt your face flush, knowing there was no way to work around her request without raising some kind of suspicion and ruining the act you’d both somehow maintained for the entire night. “sounds like a plan..!”

you could feel how tense reiner was behind you as you got settled on his thighs, hesitating to rest his hands on either side of you while pieck and porco struggled to work the screen before them. you were starting to regret not asking if this was okay with him before agreeing, but you were sure he would’ve found some way out of the situation if he was truly uncomfortable. he only seemed to be preoccupied with the thought of making you uncomfortable, something which made a flicker of affection warm your chest.

“alright! we’ve got four pictures,” pieck announced, “starting... now! and make the first a normal one!”

the first three pictures were the standard photo booth antics—one with all of you smiling normally, one with all of you making the most ridiculous face you could think of in five seconds, and one of all of you arguing over what the third photo should’ve been.

“do something cute for the last one to make up for the messed up one!” pieck demanded through her laughter, pointing urgently at the countdown on the screen, “hurry up an’ kiss or something!!”

you turned back to look at reiner, wide golden eyes gazing down at you, obviously unprepared for the steadily escalating circumstance that was only being intensified by the chanting of “kiss, kiss, kiss!” coming from the woman who’d paid for the photos in the first place. and although you knew you had no obligation to do what she asked just because she had been so kind to you despite only meeting you tonight, or because the timer was winding down towards zero all too quickly, you still found yourself reaching out a hand to settle just under his jaw, heart racing impossibly fast when you realized he was already leaning down to meet you halfway.

his lips were still sweet with whatever juice had been mixed with alcohol, skin warm and blushing from your proximity, the hand that had been resting in your lap wandering to lace your fingers with his. the exchange didn't last nearly long enough, the click of the camera drawing you back to the cramped reality, pieck's cheers through giggles and porco's disgusted scoff for you two to get a room.

"i better be invited to your wedding!" pieck joked, reaching across you to draw open the curtains in a silent sign for you to pry yourself away from reiner.

"likewise." you replied with a smile, almost giddy with excitement as you clambered out of the photo booth.

though reiner's expression just barely passed as casual, his cheeks were burning red, even the tips of his ears flushed as the four of you waiting for the machine to dispense your photos. the function was winding down fast, and as soon as your drawn-out goodbyes were finally finished, you and reiner left, hand-in-hand, much to talk over but neither of you willing to speak until you'd reached the privacy of his car.

you turned to him, smiling in the dim glow on the lights of his dash, laughing softly at his sheepish expression, "i know you said we'd only pretend for a day but.. you think i could request a little extension?"

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hiya when u gave the time can you please a continuation of the luke from skins one where they were in Morocco and they are both back from Bristol now and they see eachother again and it’s a smut where they r high and kinda intense if that makes sense 😂 ❤️

What Happens in Morocco, Stays in Morocco

This is part two to this imagine, find it here

Pairing | Luke x reader

Summary | perhaps, you were wrong. Not everything stays in Morocco. It is a tradition for things to come back to bite you in the ass, more so when you have been forced to be clean, and kept away from any kind of drugs.

Warnings | use of drugs, addiction, smut, it’s bit dark so read at your own risk, this is a warning so please keep that in mind,

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

An insatiable stirred within your gut, pelting you with reminders of what you had lost after Morocco. The love of your life had been departed from your shaking grip, the people that claimed to care about you forcing you to be sober off the high that it gave you. Drugs. It was your only desire, but you stayed strong as you walked back from college, even as you saw a dealer out of the corner of your eye, trading his special product with someone in your English class, that sat two seats to the right of you.

Licking your lips, you held onto the straps of your rucksack tighter, hoping that the weight of all the items within it would succumb you under the lenient pressure that it composed against your spine, pushing you into a lower station of dwelling, so that you would feel nothing, and the emptiness sure as hell would not be burdening you with satisfactory mockery.

At such a young age, you had found a friend, even if it be absorbed into a conversation through digestion or clouded fumes. And without its presence you were someone else, a stranger trudging hopelessly through the ambient streets of Bristol, lost and in need for a high. That holiday had been the end of you, your friends didn’t say it, but you were more than certain that they were thinking such a spectacle.

Whilst you were amped up on various chemicals that engorged your veins with images of new possibilities, you were far from a sullen composure; you were happy. You had no problem speaking to Nick’s brother, though everyone seemed to be wary of him, and listening to Grace talk about her various recitals, and the strictness that her father intended upon her. To everyone you had been a breath of fresh air, until that place that they called rehab.

In there they had starved you from the one thing that you had truly craved. Even the security guy wouldn’t trade a blowjob for a little picking of white powder, and it showed you how messed up their priorities were. Morocco, it had been an escape, something you were sure it never feel again, but you wanted to, so desperately.

“If it isn’t the wisp of the waters, in the flesh, and looking like she could use a pick me up.” A blonde male asked, he couldn’t have been much older than yourself. There were scrapes adorning his pale complexion, brandishing his cheek with what could only be seen as battle scars from a testosterone endorsed fight.

“I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you?” You roughly spoke, having no recollection of ever meeting this man in your life, though, half of your memory was boggled. Going cold turkey appeared to have had that affect on you, but a deep internal part of you was warning you to leave now, and conserve your own safety from whatever offer he was about to propose.

Sure, you’d have once done anything, but the possibility of danger preached louder when there was nothing numbing your blood stream, and dirtying the contents that ran through it. A small snicker fled from the boy’s mouth, revealing that he was much amused by your naivety. He tilted his head, observing you with a lick of his lips, plodding closer as you froze.

“We’ve met before.” He toyed inside his pockets, extracting a clear bag that contained a couple of vibrant yellow pills that had your heart beating promiscuously against the captivity of your ribcage. “In fact, we got to know each other very well darling, your manners weren’t so spectacular then either, though they sure were better. It appeared as though you rather enjoyed the attention and now you’re here, looking like an innocent doe under the flare of headlights.”

“I don’t do that kinda stuff any more.” But you wanted to. It didn’t matter what prospects spewed out of your mouth in the form of conjunctive excuses, it was more than clear that you were aggressively attracted to the small spheres that had caught your attention fast. “I’d find the next girl to corrupt, because I’m clean and intend to stay that way.” Did you?

“You’re already corrupted, there’s no point in dismissing this, because it is what you want. But you’re denying urself from the simple luxuries of life, all because ripple; family, friends, think its better for you. They want you to be healthy, though that entails you perceiving though life as someone that you aren’t.” He sighed, rolling his shoulders slightly as his eyes bore around your sullen demeanour, recognising every trace that your body showed of restraining itself. “I’m Luke. And you, you are y/n, aren’t you? I’m sure I heard your friends call you that on holiday.”

Gulping, you realised that this must have been the boy that fucked with Frankie’s head, and made one of your group disappear, all whilst Grace was away, and in intensive care. As soon as it all clicked, you felt overwhelmed. There was nothing that you could do against him, he had already broken everything around you, whether that was his intent or not. Without thinking at all, you snatched the self made packet out of the clasp of his fingers, emptying the contents into your palm, throwing them into your mouth.

“Good girl.” It felt like a taunt, he was messing with you, you knew that. But it wasn’t his fault that you were messed up; all that was on you. “Don’t you want some water with that, it might make it wash down easier?” To answer him, you swallowed the pills dry cocking a brow at him as he pulled out another clear sachet of impulsive medications, taking it himself before you could whisk it away and endure further affects yourself.

Luke, feeling the tingle himself, pulled you down the alley that he was occupying, pressing your numbed back against the wall, his mouth running along your cheek as you felt swarmed with various desires. A part of you wanted to push him away, and beat him until he could no longer walk, but the other wanted nothing more than to feel his toxic skin dragging along yours, increasing the high that was spurring around your lungs until you felt like you could no longer breathe.

Your hands were uncertain of where they were supposed to be, and thus they roamed around his thin arms, grasping at his shoulders as his face sunk into the crook of your neck, his hands daring below your skirt, and feeling you up over your panties. Every touch he presented upon your burning flesh induced sparks to collapse in your mind, displaying through each of your appendages. “Fuck me, or I’ll find someone else to a better job.” You snarled at him, growling as he chuckled at your desperation.

“Now I recognise you, instead of that good girl facade.” He nipped at your neck, dropping his preppy slacks as he grasped his cock, thrusting your panties to the side so that he could penetrate your cunt, a cry abandoned your throat, echoing around the nearby streets. Your walls convulsed around him as you felt full and completely satisfied with the sensation. The memories of him flooded back into your mind as you pictured Morocco. He had stalked over towards you as though you were his prey, and it seemed that he had continued to hunt you down.

The thought was kinda hot, and thus you clenched your teeth, succumbing to an orgasm around him, whimpering as he slipped himself out, jerking his length so that he spilled his seed over your legs. “I have more of the good stuff back home, you fancy coming over?” Hazily you nodded, as his wobbling hand grasped your face, smashing his poisonous lips upon yours, suffocating all the good that you had been laboured into, making you swim in the darkness of his pupils as the two of you wobbled away from the scene, his cum still painted upon your legs as the two of you slowly headed towards his flat.

[blueprint-han]

desert rose — yang jeongin.

↪ “ Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid. ”

— “ You’d have never thought that one incident would’ve enlightened you of how much in love you were with your childhood best friend, but it turns out to be more of a problem when you’re threatened with a life-ending disease with no cure whatsoever. Or so you thought. ”

pairing: jeongin x reader

genre: hanahaki au; fluff, angst with a happy ending.

⇥ warnings: hanahaki disease, mentions of blood (not very graphic but enough that it’s tagged), lots of angst, also in this world the hanahaki surgery isn’t discovered yet, because it’s a fairly recent discovery, also y/n’s dad is nowhere mentioned in this fic idk take it as you like but i imagined him to pass away when y/n was 12 for some reason :((, please do not read if you triggered by topics of death or blood or disease! These themes will be prevalent though not in super explicit detail, they are still there. If I missed a warning, let me know. <3

word count: 11.09 K

type: long one-shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Yang Jeongin, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

part of: the @bystay​ skznta event, written for @stayndays​ !!

song: inspired from Desert Rose by Lolo Zouaï <3 No relation to the fic but it did inspire the ~vibes~.

↯ note: I’m gonna be honest this tired me out so much that I’m glad I finished it, it took me longer than I expected and it got longer than I expected, but nonetheless, here you go shayna! Hi!! It’s me! Your secret santa! Sorry I couldn’t send you that many asks because my uni is a bitch™, and I wish I could’ve made this better, but I guess this will have to do for now. I hope you like it, and I loved being your santa! 🥺 I hope we can interact more in the future, and this isn’t edited so pls go easy on me （＞人＜；）eiury2y4er okay happy reading! <3 love you shayna! <3 I wish I could give this more editing time :( but... i hope u still like it!  ⇥ dawn.☀️

Jeongin’s eyes are really pretty.

The first time you'd made this miniscule observation was during your summer vacation road trip when the sun shined a tad bit overly bright, and Jeongin’s umbrella had a hole in it. The exact details of how it ended up torn don’t matter, but the way Jeongin’s eyes seemed to shimmer in the harsh noon sun almost made it seem worth it.

You remember it clearly — He’d smiled brightly when his eyes met yours, eyes crinkling into tiny little half-moons before his expression turned neutral. At that moment, you were lost into the abyss that was his midnight black orbs. They seemed to hold glimmering stars in them, ones that outshone the specks of white in the night sky.

Looking back, you didn’t think of it much, opting to shake your head off it’s daze before running to where Jeongin stood, throwing a bottle of water into his backpack and laughing at some corny jokes the rest of the group cracked.

Jeongin was a friend — a good friend. In fact, you could call him your best friend, though it had never been verbalized. You couldn’t remember exactly when or how you’d gotten closer to him — it just happened, like everything important in this world did. Like how Jeongin says “It was fate, Y/N, fate” in that old-man-philosopher voice to get you to laugh (Of course it would never work, but you’d still laugh, because anything to see him give you that bright, toothy grin and that little scrunch of his nose in acknowledgement).

The memory of how it all started  is as clear as the sky, as pure as the pigment of a rose.

“Don’t stray too far away, alright? Meet me back here in two hours.” The instructor screams, and all the students chime in with a collective “Yes, ma’am!”. 

 “Good, now go collect your flowers.”

A flower-picking expedition isn’t a common event in a school field trip, at least in your school. You’re more used to the normal visits to the ice cream factory, or the butterfly park (which, to be fair, had some pretty flowers, if only you could pick them) or another affiliated school. Nevertheless, you don’t complain, because the prospect of your school giving you a chance to collect all the pretty flowers you could spot here had you on top of the clouds.

You’re allowed to go alone or in groups of two, and of course, Jeongin has you by the arm the moment your teacher had screamed “Disperse!” at the top of her lungs (P.E teachers had a thing for screaming, apparently). Ignoring the teasing glances the other boys made towards the both of you, you set sail on your path, scanning all the bushes for any wild and unique flowers you could find.

“Oh look, there’s one!” You pointed out after a good four-minute-walk, almost stumbling in your one-inch-too-tight-shoes and ignoring Jeongin’s giggle at your antics. You beckoned him over to where you were standing and he obliged, tucking his sweater paws into his pockets before walking over to where you were staring at the pretty flower.

So, flowers. They’d always fascinated you. You’d developed said fascination ever since you were six. Something about the sheer way the petals were arranged, the various ranges of coloring — vivid, gradient, muted — the beauty of something so delicate and intricate always drew you in. You found yourself examining a flower for hours, and surprisingly, you never grew tired of it. They’d helped you through a lot when you felt particularly down, too. Perfect distraction — snuggling against Jeongin’s arm and playing with the flower he’d always pick out for every visit, surrounded by calming; almost numbing silence along with the sound of his steady breathing, maybe sometimes his heartbeat too when he’d get overly affectionate. Flowers in a way, in every way, were your escape. You loved them. 

“Hmmm.” Jeongin hummed over the sounds of the leaves susurrating and rustling on the ground, the wind enveloping you like a cold, yet oddly comfortable blanket. He fixed his round glasses over his nose, quickly flipping through his encyclopedia. No one really questioned him as to why he carried it wherever he went — but just like you, he had a vivid fascination for flowers too. It was something the both of you fit like a glove on, and you were beyond grateful to meet someone who could click with you so well.

“This is wolfsbane, we can’t pick it.” He said, shaking his head. “It’s poisonous, the whole plant is.”

“Oh…” You pouted, staring at the flower once more. You took in the sight of lush, violet petals, the way they wrapped around the centre and had almost no smell.

“Hey.” He touched your hand worriedly. “You didn’t touch them, right?”

“No, I didn’t. I know better than to touch plants without knowing what they are.”

“Good.” There you could see it again. That lovely, bright smile, one more of relief this time. When you looked into his eyes, you seemed lost — you could capture every flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, count every lustrous star that was laid in his eyes. “That’s good, the poison can be absorbed easily through your skin.”

“Yeah.” You let yourself smile at him, hands dropping down to fiddle with the hem of your frock. 

“Come on, I wanna get some shots for my book. Plus some flowers.” Pulling at your hand, he led you amidst the varying degrees of green and the damp smell of grass for a good distance, before halting in front of a bush. You knew what he’s referencing to by ‘shots’. The camera that hangs around his back, ready to immortalize the memory into his SD card, or rather make a polaroid (or a painting, if he’s being artistic) and tape it to his notebook along with the pressed flower.

“Look!”

Trip a step back, and you yelp at the sudden intrusion to your pace, pouting at Jeongin before looking in the direction he had his eyes fixated on. “Roses.” You giggle, kneeling in front of the bush and hissing when you feel the damp coldness of the grassy floor seep into your knees. “They’re pretty.” 

You can barely hear the sound of students walking past you — the moment seems almost captivating — nothing heard, nothing felt except the whirring of the wind, and the fresh smell of various plants mixed together, it carries.

This part of the garden seems particularly shady and cool, and some of the roses haven’t bloomed yet. A few rosebuds, a few half-bloomed roses, and two fully bloomed, deep red roses, sitting nicely against the green foliage.

Jeongin kneels before you, and you turn to smile at him, chortling at the way his glasses are about to fall over his nose again. You ruffle his black hair gently before fixing the glasses up his nose. 

“You might wanna get a chain attached to that thing. You know those strings that go around your neck and to your glasses to hold them in place?”

Jeongin chuckles. “It’s alright. I don’t like my glasses anyways.”

“Whyyy…?” You whine, poking his arm playfully before directing your focus back on the rose. “You look so adorable with them.”

Your friend feels a smile tug at his lips, leaning in to pinch your cheeks lightly. “You’re adorable.” He says, before focusing on the rose, (thankfully) oblivious to the way your cheeks feel warm after his action.

“Here, let me pick them out and then we can press them into our journals.” Yes. The both of you have matching journals, owing to your near obsession with flowers. You oft share them with each other and get fascinated by how the other views the flower, how they delicately craft words into how the little gift of nature meant to them. It’s a heartwarming tradition — one of the main reasons you follow it till date. 

Jeongin pulls out a pair of scissors from his satchel, and albeit with a lot of force (and the adorable nose scrunch™, manages to cut off a decent amount of stem with the fully bloomed flower, carefully bringing it to his nose to smell it before doing the same to the other one. And all the while, you silently watch.

“Here, this one is more fresh.” It’s so surprising how he can just say that by looking at the flower. Then again, you know him better than anyone, so it’s not surprising at all. He looks at you with dreamy, fluttering eyes and that precious smile on his face, his hair falling perfectly on his forehead. You want to reach out and fix the stray hairs back into position, but you hold back, swallowing the lump in your throat when you look into his pretty, pretty eyes. Trying your damnedest to not get mesmerized, lost in them once again.

It doesn’t seem like a very, very special moment. And to you at that time, it wasn’t special. You simply ignored the heat that crept up your face at his silent gesture, nodding sporadically and ignoring the way you tensed up more when your fingers touched, barely.

Your heart suddenly thumped against your chest with renewed vigour, and you could tell Jeongin was close to noticing it too. 

“T-thank you, that's very sweet.” Fixing the frills of your frock, you smooth them over before looking further and deeper into the garden.

“Lend me a hand, please.”

You once again, ignore the way your heart flutters at his statement, silently extending your hand and covering up your sudden emotion with a smile. His hand feels soft, warm in your hold, fingertips slightly rough from when he used to play the violin. You like it, though.

“Here.” He places the rose carefully in your palm, making sure no thorns prick the delicate skin of your palm, and you can’t help but smile at the tiny reassurance. A nod of approval and you tuck the flower away neatly into your satchel, almost like a valuable present he’d given you, oblivious to the way Jeongin’s eyes twinkled at your action, his smile beaming.

My god, who would’ve known this flower could’ve brought you so, so much trouble?

It had started simple, almost unnoticeable. Just little glances towards Jeongin when he’d come over to watch a movie, getting lost in the way his hair looked exceptionally soft to touch, silently drifting off into space as you admired him from the backseat during class — sure, you were supposed to be focusing on the lesson and taking notes, but something about the way the rim of Jeongin’s sunglasses caught the sunlight and created a lens flare effect was breathtaking to watch.

That, combined with his beauty, his personality. It was too much, too much to handle.

You found yourself waiting to get a glimpse of him, even a tiny glance of his smile would be enough to make your day — to make your heart flutter. 

He was pretty.

You suppose it’s because being Jeongin’s best friend meant you already knew about the kind and empathetic man he was — but for the love of god, you could not stop your heart from fluttering when you heard his name, let alone looked at him and his mind-numbingly pretty smile, his dazzling eyes that always seemed to keep you off the ground.

Oh my, was this love?

You didn’t believe it. You didn’t agree, couldn’t accept that this was love. Maybe it was just your way of showing appreciation for him, for everything he’d done for you? Yes. That was probably it. 

Love wasn’t something you’d experienced — how could you jump to the conclusion? 

But you couldn’t pin the feeling you were feeling to another word — though you were desperate. The way your heart beat faster around him, the way you started noticing all the tiny details that made you fall for him even more, and for what? Just because he happened to give you a fresher, more lusciously colored rose after choosing them on his own? 

Jeongin had noticed it too — it was hard not to when you’d start fiddling with your thumbs, twirling your hair, and the way heat would rush to your face when he did as little as smile at you — you’d fallen for him — and while he was ever-the-oblivious to realise the implications of your actions, he did know that something was wrong.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Jeongin asks rather dully, seeming kind of worried about your current state. You’re resting your head against his lap, but Jeongin can feel the warmth of your cheek through the thin material of his shorts — and not the regular kind. The kind of heat one would radiate when they’d either been overly flustered. Or possibly a fever.

He rests a single palm against your cheek and your eyes flutter shut, and there it is again. The butterflies in your stomach, the fuzzies in your head, and the tingling that shot up to your fingertips. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re oddly quiet today? You haven’t said or eaten anything.”

“Ah, no, I’m alright.” You try to hide the dizziness in your voice, snuggling in his hold before fluttering your eyes close. Thankfully, Jeongin doesn’t question it. 

“Alright, we won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Even though you aren’t facing him right now, you can feel him smile in melancholy. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Yes?”

“You know I’m here for you, right?”

Oh, you knew.

Sometimes you wish you didn’t — maybe that would’ve prevented it from ending this way.

It’s such a common scenario — in movies, in books, in media. Two best friends falling in love with each other, confessing their love in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over gentle touches and lingering kisses. You’ve always had an attachment to those kinds of movies or books — because for you, that kind of love was special in it’s own way.

Those little ways the lead characters had of showing each other their undying love, those subtle acts were so special, so special in their own way. Those books had shown you how heartwarming, how vulnerable yet rigid, strong that relationship could be. It was such a pretty world to explore, to fantasize. You kind of felt that you and Jeongin were the protagonists of those books, those movies.

Except, you had no happy ending.

The books failed to show how painful it was to swallow, to digest the fact that you could be nothing more than friends. Sure, there had been some moments where the main leads would be sad, but it was nothing compared to this, this suffocation in your chest that slowly built up, day by day, minute by minute, second by second.

It was hard.

The first prick in your chest hadn’t been entirely painful. It was barely noticeable even. Simply a tiny jolt of pain when you bent forward to grab your books from your locker. It had only been a slight jab, like when you’d accidentally poke yourself in the rib with the edge of your hardcover diary while picking it up. Nothing too hard.

Then came the slight feeling of breathlessness. You found yourself unable to run a full round in P.E (when you could easily do so beforehand), having to stop in between to catch your breath. You figured it could’ve been your dust allergy because the P.E room wasn’t cleaned that often, so it made sense. Somewhat. Still sceptical, but nonetheless, you covered up your random outbursts of coughs with any and every excuse you could find when your parents questioned you about it.

It was hard, but you figured it was just a matter of winter passing by, and soon you’d be alright.

Would you, though? You couldn’t bring yourself to accept that there was in fact something wrong happening to you, pushing behind that feeling of paranoia every time with a smile on your face and a hold of your breath, wishing for the pain to ebb away.

Who would’ve thought that a sudden infatuation would have led to your demise?

Jeongin can hear the noises.

Those loud, dragged out wisps of air that you borderline struggle to take in and expel out, Jeongin can hear them.

He can feel your struggle. It’s not easy for him to look at you like this, curled up into a ball and ignoring the rampant burn in your chest. The movie isn’t even the main focus right now. Jeongin has something to say, and he’s had enough of watching you struggle. He’s rather here to persuade you to go to the fucking doctor, and get some sort of diagnosis instead of beating around the bush.

Strange. Jeongin feels oddly affectionate today, when usually you’re the one to initiate such gestures. All he wants to do is pull you into his arms and rock you back and forth until you fall asleep, because you seriously seem like you need it.

“Y/N,” he calls, watching you lift your head up from where it’s rested against your knees. You don’t reply, because right now, your throat seems like a barren desert and all you can seem to let out is a croak.

Jeongin sighs and rolls his eyes as if in deep thought, turning on the couch to face you before touching the tops of your cheeks with his hands — they seem overly feverous. 

“What’s going on?” He asks sternly.

“What d-do you mean?” You manage to get out, feeling your chest hurt more and more with each syllable that leaves past your lips in a croaked voice. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing your chest with the sharp edge of the knife, the burn in your throat and lungs getting too much to handle. You can’t even tear your focus from the fiery sensation to revel in the feeling of Jeongin’s soft palms cupping your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting weird ever since the expedition.” Worry is laced throughout his tone, mixed in with a dash of sorrow to give rise to the most heartbreaking sound you’ve ever heard. Though you know otherwise, it almost seems as though Jeongin is disappointed in you.

“You’ve been getting more and more sick—” he raises a hand to stop you from contradicting his statement. You only look at him with mellow eyes, knowing that what he says is right. You’ve been ignoring your health for too long. 

You can’t help it, either. While you have an inkling of what might’ve happened, you’re too stubborn to accept it, let along your unrequited love for your best friend, who seems ever-the-oblivious.

“—and you can’t tell me it’s the winter allergy, love. I know you more than that to believe it.”

Shaking your head in dismay, you turn around to get up. You can’t be having this conversation right now, not with the faintest taste of blood lingering at the edge of your throat — you can’t be showing yourself like this in front of him — broken down, vulnerable, confused of your own feelings, having no idea of what you should be doing.

Your mother had pointed it out too, at this point. They suggested going to the doctor, and you outright refused. You didn’t want your suspicion to come to life. It couldn’t- it couldn’t be this way-

“Y/N!”

Jeongin grabs your hands to stop you in your position and turns you around.

And that’s a wrong move.

Your whole chest tightens, and the thorns that stab against your chest has never been more painful. You cry out loudly, only causing them to dig deeper into your skin and almost bleed. Jeongin’s eyes widen in shock at your sudden, unexpected reaction and only tightens his grasp on your hands.

Which again, is a very wrong move, because the following bouts of coughs that take over you shake you up from the core. Jeongin feels blanked out looking at how much you’re suffering right now, so much that he doesn’t feel the wet, yet light flutter on the back of his hand.

When Jeongin snaps back in from his momentary daze, he’s borderline horrified.

He’s convinced, completely certain that there’s nothing more terrifying, heartbreaking, scarring — he could go on and on — than what he just saw. He can almost feel his heart break into a million tiny shards, but he knows that it’s nowhere equivalent to the pain you’re going through.

Well, looks like your suspicion did come to life.

Because what Jeongin sees is, gah, he feels horrified. There’s blood dripping down your lip, staining the skin below garnet red. Your eyes are tinted pinkish-red too, most likely from the exertion that came along with the horrendous amount of coughs that took over you.

Red, red everywhere. Jeongin had previously thought of red as one of the most beautiful, and most interesting colors ever — a symbolism of love, nothing but the pure love he felt towards you.

But now, all he could think of was how much he was tormented by the mere sight of the color.

When his eyes, still blown wide in shock, trail down to his lap, the mere sight of what’s littered on it leaves him in tears.

Red petals, everywhere. All over the back of his hands, all over your lap, all over his lap.

Jeongin could probably spend ages, ages sobbing and whimpering about the sheer pain the sight in front of him brought. It tormented him beyond imagination. This should be a dream — Jeongin wants to wake up any second now, anywhere, in your lap, in his own bed, just anything to save his heart from seeing you this way.

Yet when you cough again, the pain in his heart tells otherwise.

“Y/N!” He chokes out a cry, and from there, he acts quick. He could cry about this later — he needs to find you some help, and now. 

You feel numb. As numb as you possibly can when you see the tears in Jeongin’s eyes, though your sight is clouded by your own tears. You’re numb to the blood dripping down your chin and pooling in your lap, you’re numb to the feeling of those bloody petals littered all over the couch. 

“We need to get you to the hospital, quick.” He gets up, wiping his eyes that are surprisingly, surprisingly overflowing with tears. You barely feel the handkerchief quickly wiping against your mouth, causing you to snap from your trance and look at him. The numbness doesn’t fade yet.

You doubt it ever will.

You’re not sure that the events after the incident go super quickly or as slow as a snail, and you’re not in any state to care about it either. Jeongin had called your mother when he drove you to the hospital — albeit over the sound of your repetitive and raucous coughs — and now your mom’s standing next to him outside, nervously prancing back and forth as he waits for the doctors to come out.

The hospital corridor is moderately lit — perfect setting for Jeongin’s mood right now. There’s no sound except for the occasional encounter when a nurse or doctor happens to walk past them. The hanahaki treatment section of the hospital isn’t the most crowded place — surprisingly enough, the doctors had immediately known what had happened to you.

Your mother can’t bring herself to thank Jeongin for dragging you to the hospital — she’s too paranoid. Your daughter coughing up blood and — Jeongin hadn’t mentioned it to her — flower petals over a movie night isn't the best news you’d want to receive when her friend calls you; so Jeongin understands why your mother is overly quiet.

He doesn’t try to reassure her either. It’s hard to do so when she’s gonna find out her daughter houses a wedding bouquet in her chest — and Jeongin isn’t that oblivious to not know what’s going on, especially standing in the hanahaki department of the clinic. His mother, not so much. All she can do is silently sob and mutter prayers repeatedly, hoping her daughter would be alright. Jeongin feels his heart break more when he sees your mom like this, and he knows he’s not gonna last at this rate, when he’s allowed to enter your room.

At this point, he can’t get past his own brain screaming a million different things at the same time, none of them coherent enough to make sense. He’s a mess right now — red eyes puffy and swollen, hair completely disheveled and half of his sweatshirt hanging out of where it was  neatly tucked in.

Two hands at his heart, and that’s when he notices the red rose petal stuck to the back of his hand, probably from when you’d coughed all over it. It’s fairly large in size — Jeongin examines it, in a slightly successful attempt at trying to distract from the feeling of anxiety that builds up inside bit by bit. It’s a deep, dark red color, exactly like the rose he’d given you that day, at the trip.

The boy sighs to himself before pulling the petal off his hand, eyes widening when the blood underneath it tints the skin it runs across. 

That’s when a lump forms in his throat, but he isn’t given time to cry, because soon enough, the sound of a door opening clicks through his ears, and Jeongin’s head snaps up.

He can see you from where he’s standing, and his whole world freezes in front of his eyes.

The flowers inside your chest had grown moderately large — that’s what the doctor said, at least. You’d been hiding your disease for two months, and it wasn’t until the end that Jeongin caught on — you’d been too stubborn to accept your fate. Maybe this was how it was supposed to end, after all. 

You couldn’t accept it then, but you did now. Did it seriously make a difference?

Jeongin had seen your scan, and what he saw would’ve truly been pretty, if not for the fact that these flowers could be the cause for your imminent death. The roses had almost fully bloomed — and the thorns were pricklier than ever. Jeongin could almost feel them stab against his skin, and he didn’t even have the disease. It was confusing — things were too confusing right now.

You couldn’t speak much, the painkillers you were on were making you drowsy and causing you to quickly fall asleep. Even if you weren’t asleep, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Numbness ran through your veins. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything after what had happened.

Jeongin and your mother hadn’t spoken to you after the doctor had shown them your scan, and they preferred to not break the news to you either, figuring that you were pretty shaken up from the incident already.

The doctor said he could give you two weeks before the flowers filled your lungs completely and blocked your throat.

And Jeongin is devastated.

When the effect of your painkillers wear off and you open your eyes, you feel a soft sensation brushing against your thumb, slowly turning to look at your best friend — tears streaked all over his face, eyes ridden with dark circles and red and puffy, his voice sounded nasal as he silently cried, eyesight focused on the floor.

“J-Jeongin…?” You mumble past your oxygen mask, surprisingly not noticing it’s presence until right now,

He perks up at the painful call, lifting his head to gaze into your eyes. He looks worse than you look right now, if you’re to be honest. You doubt he’s even brushed his teeth or had breakfast. The hospital room is pretty dim just like the exterior, but the sunlight coming from the open window is enough to light up the whole room, enough to at least see your friend’s features clearly.

“You’re awake.” he says as a matter-of-fact and you nod, gently taking off the contraption placed against your nose. Jeongin flinches like he wants to stop you. But then freezes when you try to slowly get up.

Turns out that’s a wrong move, because you can soon feel the thorns of the garden you have in your lungs prick against your skin, making you gasp and shriek in agony. Jeongin jerks up and places a hand on your back, and the other across your stomach — and gently maneuvers you into an awkward but comfortable position, before lifting the top of the bed into a reclining position before laying you down onto it.

“Careful, love.”

Your chest tightens at the actions once again, yet you try not to cough like you did the last time. Surprisingly biting on your tongue works to rid the feeling of suffocation, or at least distracts from it.

“Where’s m-mom?”

“She went to pick up some of your essentials, plus a few clothes.”

“D-did she eat? Did you eat?”

Jeongin smiles at your concern. It’s something he’s found endearing about you — how you always seem to put others first, even though you’re in a worse situation. Though the habit isn’t healthy, Jeongin can’t seem to get over how thoughtful one would have to be to act that way all the time. You’re so innocent, so kind — you’re one of a kind, at least for him.

“What?” You chuckle, noticing Jeongin’s lingering stare on you.

Your friend only beams, taking your hand in his once again. “I forced her to eat something because of her medication, so you don’t have to worry. I ate along with her too, though the canteen’s food doesn’t taste that well.” 

A soft giggle leaves your lips and quickly morphs into a set of coughs, more petals fluttering all over your lap and hands. When Jeongin stands up to call a doctor, you lift a hand to stop him, gesturing for him to sit down.

It isn’t as intense as the first time, but there’s still a tiny bit of blood dripping from the corner of your mouth, which Jeongin quickly goes to wipe off with his thumb. You flinch at the warm touch, sighing to yourself before dropping your gaze to your lap.

“So…” You start. “What did the doctor say?”

“What?”

Jeongin seems visibly tense at your question, kind of like he was dreading it. Which he was. He knows enough about this to know that patients usually don’t like knowing, and in fact can be traumatised by knowing that their apparent death would be in two weeks.

Jeongin in fact has no idea how he’s so calm. He should be sobbing, trashing, looking for a way to hold you back. He shouldn’t be so calm.

He figures he’s just accepted fate. He’s relishing what could be his last moments with you.

You don’t reply, and Jeongin knows he’ll have to make something up.

“They said it’s just a regular allerg-”

“Jeongin.”

The boy freezes.

“Don’t lie to me.” Your voice is laid with so much pain, Jeongin wants to reach out and crush every problem you have into his fist. He wants all your sorrow and worry to dissolve, and right now, he just feels helpless. He feels powerless.

“How many days do I have left?” You ask, sniffling before wiping your tears away. “Just tell me already, Jeongin-”

Jeongin’s grip tightens against your hand as he whispers — “Two weeks.” 

The words are only let out as a soft mumble, as though Jeongin himself is questioning the statement the doctors put forth. Really, in two weeks? Would you really be gone? Would he seriously never see more of your smiles, your loving gaze, those times when you’d get overly shy of his compliments, those times when you’d silently smile at him from afar?

Was this the end?

“Two weeks.” You repeat. Your voice honestly sounds like a croaking frog, but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“Hey Y/N…?” Jeongin hesitantly calls.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” He puts his other hand on yours. “Two questions, actually.”

“Mhm?”

“This disease you have… hana-”

“Hanahaki.”

“Yeah, that.” A hand runs against the back of his neck and he continues. “Be honest, did you know that- that you had this disease before I found out?”

“Jeongin…” You’re about to shake your head, but then you remember the deadline. The deadline by which, you’re no longer going to be here, no longer going to be able to cuddle Jeongin during movie dates, no longer be able to even look at him from afar, or close for that matter. In other words, you didn’t want to end your days with him based on a lie.

Therefore you sigh, breathing out a ‘yes’ as your shoulders droop down.

You can hear Jeongin’s shaky sigh too.

“W-why?” He clenches your hand tightly, sadness mixing in with what you can only call disappointment. “How could you be so selfish?”

It's too late to take back those words now.

“Wh-what?” You raise your eyebrows, feeling scared at his sudden question. “Jeongin, I wanted to be sure-”

Oh who are you kidding? Jeongin and you both know that you’d hidden it because you didn’t want to accept it. It’s too late to change that now.

And Jeongin seems to know that too.

“Don’t- Y/N.” His breath morphs into sharp inhales, as though he’s downright angry at your actions — you know he has every reason to be — still, it doesn’t ease the pain in your heart. Or maybe that’s just the flowers.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His sobs grow louder in fervour, and you feel yourself break at the sight. The room is so, so quiet that you can hear his faint mumbles. You can hear the cries his heart screams in agony, letting you go is painful for him. The thought, rather the sound, only makes the plant in your heart grow further.

“Y/N- did you not think of your mother? Of me? Did you not think of what would have happened if you left us? You think it’s gonna be easy on the both of us? On everyone?” His gaze stern and his voice stable, you don’t get affected by his words, but you do understand what he means — and maybe wish that you could’ve reversed your actions.

“How could you, Y/N?” He gets up from where he’s seated beside your hospital bed. “How could you think that this would be the most appropriate action?”

Jeongin knows he’s angry. Jeongin knows you’re going through a lot. But he’s too.

He’s not angry at you, not at himself, but fate. He’s mad that this is your fate, that you have to go away so soon. He’s mad that he can’t do anything to help you, in any manner.

You don’t say a word, which only causes Jeongin to sigh — disappointedly, again — and walk to where his coat is hung against the edge of his bed, picking it off and pulling it over him in a hurry. Every cell in you wants to scream at him, apologize for what you did, but your voice feels small, almost like you can’t force it out of your throat.

He goes towards the door that leads to the corridor, stopping for a second before turning to look at you.

“Are you gonna tell me, at least, who this person is?”

“W-what?” Things are too confusing right now.

“Hanahaki comes with unrequited love, Y/N. Are you gonna tell me who didn’t return your love?”

“You didn’t” You want to say. But then again, you stay quiet, not being able to handle the intensity of the moment.

Jeongin wants for two seconds, then sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess.”

And then he leaves.

In the next week, your health goes down drastically. More of petals expelled out of your lungs, more blood dripping from between your lips, more of your mother’s horrified expression as she runs away from the room while the doctors tend to your coughs. More sobs from your mother when she thinks you’re asleep, more melancholic smiles when you’re awake.

But you feel so empty.

Every piece of you feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t even sit up without someone’s help, of such intensity is the pain. The pain of knowing that your love would never be returned. 

The pain of knowing that you hurt the person you loved truly.

You were put on your oxygen mask 24/7, and instructed to not take it off whatsoever. Your medication stopped taking it’s usual effect, and if anyone saw you the way you were outside the current circumstances, they’d have assumed that you haven't slept for 8 days and were going to crumble into the earth any second.

“Honey?”

You gasp at the sudden intrusion to your thoughts, turning around to see your mother, sitting next to you and holding your hand with her own. You hum as a response, clearly unable to respond more than a mere mumble.

“Did you and Jeongin fight?”

A pang of guilt floods through your nerves at the mention of your friend’s name. He’d come to visit you only once in the past week. Perhaps even he couldn’t handle the fact that your death certificate was ready to be signed soon, and was trying to not be tormented by the fact. Or perhaps he was just angry.

“W-why?” You croak.

“I convinced him to come stay here while I go pick up a fresh change of clothes, but it took me quite a bit of arguing.”

You feel sad for her. She’s clearly paranoid — you can hear it in her voice, the shake lingers throughout. Yet she holds it in, trying not to let you worry about it.

You don’t answer her question. The last thing you need is for her to get mad at you too, though you doubt it. Your mom has never been the kind to yell at you for anything — provided, you’ve never given her a reason either.

“Do you think he’s mad because I didn’t tell him about the person who didn’t return m-my l-lo-ve…?” your throat goes dry towards the end and your mother quickly hands you a glass of water. You chug it down and sigh in relief, breath still short.

“Is that person him?” Your mother questions with her gentle, soothing voice one that can make you relax on the first listen. There’s no use lying to her, you figure. She knows you too well to do that, plus, like you said, you couldn’t bring yourself to end your days with her on a lie.

“Yeah…”

“Oh sweetheart,” She brushes some of your hair off your face, sitting down again before drumming her fingers against the back of your hand gently. “I don’t think he could be mad at you.”

“But he is. Didn’t y-you see? He didn’t bother to meet me as much after our argument. He’c c-clearly mad.”

“Hmmm,” Your mother ponders. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope. I have known him for a while, dear. He’s been with you for more than five years. Maybe he’s having trouble taking this in? Just like…” Your mother stops after that, but you know the completion.

Just like her.

“I’m sorry, mom.”

You simply don’t get it. You should be scared. You should be sad and devastated that your end was going to come soon.  You should be thrashing around and crying and wailing in despair — you just don’t have  the energy to even bother about your end. It’s depressing, but you know there’s no way you could avoid the inevitable, or get your lover to return your love.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something forced, it had to happen naturally. And if Jeongin didn’t develop it naturally, you just had to learn to live with it. Or not.

“Don’t be, darling. Everyone deserves to love, just like how they deserve it back. I wish it could’ve ended differently.”

“It’s alright mom. He loves me too… just not on the way I love him.”

You sniffle as a single tear runs down your chin, though you and your mom aren’t given enough time to speak more when you hear a familiar voice at the door. 

“Hey Mrs. L/N.” Jeongin says, shrugging off his half snow-covered coat before hanging it onto the bedside. Did he seriously walk in the snow? All the way here?

“Hello, Jeongin dear.” Your mother stands up, picking her coat before moving to fish the car keys from her purse. “Thank you for watching over Y/N while I’m gone, darling.”

“It’s no problem, Mrs. L/N.”

“Oh, so formal.” Your mom chuckles, though in her despaired state. “Y/N, you get some sleep, it’s about midnight dear.” She leans over to kiss your forehead while Jeongin excuses himself to the washroom, and you nod. 

“Good night mom.”

“Good night, and don’t worry about him. He’ll talk to you eventually.”

Oh, how reassuring. “Mhm.” You smile, closing your eyes to drift into slumber before Jeongin returns, because the last thing you need right now is to feel sad and cry over how you’d hurt him.

By the time the sound of the door clicking resounds through the space, you’re already asleep.

 It’s way past midnight. Jeongin shouldn’t be up. 

Somehow, he still finds himself seated next to your bed, staring fondly at your calm features as you finally get the rest you’ve needed for the past few days. 

Oh, he wouldn’t be able to compare your sheer beauty to even that of the moon; even when you’re in such a fragile and vulnerable state. Your eyelashes are still and unmoving where they sit against your skin, your breath is calm and slightly wavering as you struggle to breathe slightly. 

His hand slips into your own gently, and his heart melts when you shift, tightening your grasp on his warm skin before falling into a slumber again.

Why was he mad in the first place? Jeongin feels dumb for acting so quickly on his emotions, especially when you’re in a bad place at the moment. He wants to wake you up and apologize, but he can’t, because you’re sound asleep — and that’s a good thing, since seep comes so scarcely to you these days.

Then, a single tear falls from his eyes. His thoughts traverse to the dream he had the previous night — you, cold, dead in his arms. Him, sobbing, trying to wake you up but you’re really gone. He can’t even hear your mother’s cries from behind him, because he’s devastated to know that you’ve left him. The dream had woken him up in a cold sweat — it was then he realised that he’d committed a mistake, and agreed to come visit you, because you had about 5 days left.

His thoughts then traverse to the conversation you had with your mother, while he was standing outside in the cold hospital corridor, curiously listening.

“Is that person him?” “Yeah…”

When he heard those words, countess, infinite thoughts crashed at his head; all at once. Nothing made any sense. The reality of the situation was dawning on him too quickly, and Jeongin was having a hard time processing it. 

You loved him? He was the person who didn’t return your love?

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He mumbles in confusion — so much confusion, so much hurt — he wanted time to just stop for awhile and give him a fair chance to analyze the situation.

But, once all the initial thoughts were out of the way, only one question remained:

Was he the reason you were going to die?

Jeongin felt like a murderer — like he’d just stabbed you in cold blood. He knows it is’t like that — just like you’d said, love should come natural. So why did Jeongin feel so bad? WHy did he feel like he was the one at fault?

A fond smile crosses his lips when he remembers the book where you keep all your flowers safely. Who would have thought your fondness for flowers would morph into the reason for your demise?

Quiet, hushed in the midnight wind, Jeongin gently brings out the rose he’d picked from his satchel. It’s almost relieving to see a rose in it’s true glory, without scattered petals or blood covering the flower. A part of him grows sad that you won’t be able to gush over flowers together anymore, he won’t be able to see your smile anymore. It hurts him. It stabs his heart over and over again, and Jeongin is pained — almost like he’s being put to death slowly — he wants the pain to end, but only suffers and suffers.

The stem has already been cut and the thorns have been thrown out. Jeongin leans over to tuck the flower behind your ear, fingers brushing against the almost cold skin at the back of your ear before letting another tear slip from his eye, running down his cheek and falling on your palm.

A strange, oh-so-strange feeling creeps up on him. It’s like… a fluttering in his heart? Jeongin can’t quite place it — heck, he doesn’t try to make sense of it. There are more important things to look at, right now. He suddenly has the urge to pull you into his arms and gently murmur sweet words into your ear — seems odd for a situation like this, but oh well, feelings are feelings.

He pats your hand gently and smiles, before moving to sleep on the smaller bed in front of your own. Not allowed to go far, though, because your grip on his hands tighten almost immediately, and Jeongin tightens to look into your eyes, sparkly and slightly droopy from the intrusion of sleep.

“Y/N, go to-”

“Stay.” You mumble, feeling your voice choke as the petals threaten to spill out for what seems like the millionth time. Yet, you manage to spill out another, “Please?”

Jeongin feels like he’s about to cry. Your expression is so, so hopeful, he can’t bring himself to deny. He wouldn’t in the first place, because who was he to deny what could be his friend’s last wish?

A sob bubbles up his throat, but he swallows it down, smiling with melancholy before following your weak pull on his hand, genty climbing on your bed before slotting himself between you and the steel grill that prevented patients from falling down. He gently tucks his hand under you and pulls you close to himself, tensing up for a second when you wrap an arm around his own, gently rubbing on it before drifting off to sleep. You want to cherish this moment — this could be the last time before you could never see him again. Fuck your medication for making you so drowsy. Or not, because you were certain you would start crying, and that would certainly not end well.

The whole room falls silent for two seconds, and you fall asleep almost immediately. 

And then, Jeongin releases all his tears, and everything comes crashing down on him. He breaks apart.

The world was too cruel to you. He was cruel to you. He can’t believe that in less than a week, you’d be gone. Gone from earth. Flowers had lost all their beauty for him, the moment he saw you coughing them up on that couch during movie night.

He wanted to do anything. He wanted any small sign to show that you would stay with him. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t accept your fate. He wanted to grab your hand and pull you to himself, keep you close, he couldn’t let go, he couldn’t give you up, he couldn’t —

“I love you.” You mumble unconsciously in your sleep, and Jeongin loses it then and there. His throat feels dry as tears flow and flow and don’t cease no matter what. His body shakes like a sobbing child, but thankfully you’re knocked out from the effect of your medication. He hasn’t cried this hard in a while, guess there’s a first time for everything. The three words pierce his heart, and they suddenly hold more meaning than anything — Jeongin wants to hear those words on a loop; he feels strangely ecstatic when you say them.

And so, with a shaky voice and a sorrowful tone, Jeongin replies after pressing a kiss to your forehead — “I-I love you, t-too.”

His eyes flutter shut and he basks in your arms just one last time, holding you close to himself as he finally, finally finds himself at peace, next to you.

When your mother finds you both snuggled up and asleep together, a smile crosses her lips. A hopeful smile.

“Are you ready for your scan, Y/N?”

You feel oddly light today — one would say it’s because your body was close to shutting down completely, but your throat felt a bit, a tiny bit clearer and less barren than a fucking desert. Nevertheless, the scan does make you nervous. This would make clear how long the flowers would take to reach your throat — the doctor’s estimation was about three days, which seemed way too short for Jeongin.

Oh, how embarrassing it was when the nurses, all giggly and mushy-eyed, found you snuggled with Jeongin like a teddy bear at the early hours of the morning, waking you and Jeongin up and only cracking up more at your bewildered expressions when you find yourself tangled with each other.

Before the scan, Jeongin had held your hand softly, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. You’d shyly smiled, nodding before letting the nurse drag you to the scanning room.

The details of the scan itself aren’t important, it went pretty well — as decent as a scan could possibly go. You’re able to cooperate with your nurses pretty feasibly, you feel the sudden urge to get out of your wheelchair and try walking. Sure, you can still feel the choked feeling in your throat and the burn in your lungs, but somehow, it’s just a tiny bit lesser than usual. Maybe it’s because your painkillers are working more effectively. Maybe.

Jeongin’s waiting for you outside when you’re led out of the room, and he smiles when he sees you.

You don’t even remember what you’d said the previous night. All you remember was passing out while Jeongin was in the washroom, and then waking up to him cuddled up, warm and snug next to you. His features were clear and calm as the ocean on a sunny day, a small smile on his lips, as though he was dreaming about something happy. You hope he did, because that boy deserves the happiness.

“You seem energetic today.” Jeongin says, taking note of your perky demeanour, that only causes you to giggle slightly. 

Sure, you don’t remember the happenings of last night, but he does — and he’d promised himself to cherish every last second. Because in the end, it’s all he can do — for leading you to this state, for getting mad at you and wasting precious time in which he could’ve stayed with you. He’d promised to not let you live your last moment sad and desolated.

“I feel light, for some reason.” You mumble with a broken voice as Jeongin takes the wheelchair from the nurse, listening to what she has to say before bowing and nodding, leading you back to your room.

“What did she say?” You ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“She said your scan results would come in an hour.” 

“Oh… alright.”

For some reason, you’re too joyous today, after the little surprise you got as soon as your eyes opened. You can’t seem to bother about the end— you want to live in this moment, right now.

When you come back to the room, Jeongin lifts you up bridal style, causing you to gasp before placing you down onto the bed. The nurse waiting there quickly fixes your IV and helps you sit into a comfortable position (though it’s hard when thorns keep pricking at your ribs) before bowing to the both of you, and leaving.

Your mother has once again left to go fix up the house, leaving you in the trust of your best friend. You aren’t complaining though, especially when Jeongin sits down beside your bed, taking your hand in his before playing with your nimble fingers — just like always.

He looks gorgeous today. After a lot of nagging from your mother, he’d used the hospital bathroom to wash his face and comb his hair neatly, and you’re happy about that because he looks fresher and happier than ever. You want him to be smiling and happy, even when you leave, because… did you need a reason? You just wanted him to be happy and content with his life.

The thought invokes an angsty feeling of melancholy, but you brush it away, trying to focus on Jeongin and the silence that drops on the both of you like a warm blanket. You smile softly at him, gently letting go of his hand before tucking a few strands of his hair behind his ear, almost melting when Jeongin’s eyes flutter close.

“Hey Jeongin?” You call, grabbing his hand once again and interlacing the fingers together.

“Yeah?”

“When I… leave,” You notice the twitch in his expression, but nonetheless, continue. “Will you bring me flowers every week?” 

You remember the red rose you’d found tucked behind your ear when you woke up — it had dried up a bit, but nonetheless, it was one of the prettiest objects you’d ever seen — even though there was a whole bouquet of them spewing out your mouth every two seconds.

“I will.” Jeongin sniffles. The thought of having to visit your grave every week to bring you flowers is immensely saddening, but Jeongin agrees anyways. He agrees, for you.

It’s the least he can do.

It’s funny how you say “leave”, like you’re going to your hometown for a month-long vacation and not actually like you’re going to be buried any time soon. Jeongin thinks it’s because you don’t want him to get too sad over his loss — a stupid thing to wish — Jeongin knows this loss is going to affect him in more ways than one.

“Jeongin, d-don’t cry…” You cup his cheek, gently brushing your thumb against his cheek and wiping away the tears that fall, one by one. Jeongin shakes his head, placing his palm on your hand and smiling at you.

“Can you do me another favor?”

“As many as you’d like Y/N.” He says. He’ll do anything you want — it’s your last wish after all.

“Bury me with my flower journal, please?” It may seem like a weird claim to bury oneself with a dusty old book, but Jeongin understands the significance — you want to hold onto those memories you made with him while writing it together, while picking flowers together and all those happy moments you exchanged.

Jeongin tries not to let his voice break again. “I will.”

You beam at his acceptance. Jeongin feels the slight thump of his heart against his chest, and a warm feeling envelopes him from inside. He’s suddenly overcome with an urge to press delicate kisses on your eyelids, though he tries to shoo it away, because it isn’t the main point of focus right now.

But soon your mother walks in, and it’s all small talk and deep conversations with her at the same time. You have breakfast, persuade (more like force) Jeongin to scarf down his meal and giggle about some random jokes thrown here and there, until the doctor comes in. Both Jeongin and your mother stand up, bowing and wishing good morning while you do too. Wish, not stand up. You’re basically tied to the bed at this point.

“Mrs L/N, I’d have had a word with you in private, but I think Miss Y/N needs to hear this too.” 

“What is it, doctor?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and Jeongin’s grip on your hand tightens, thumb rubbing over your skin to soothe your obvious tension. The doctor slides the transparent, firm sheet off it’s envelope before letting the sunlight hit the back of it, in order to enable a clearer viewing.

“This is… the most unusual case I’ve ever seen, but —” He points to a junction on the scan. “The flowers have actually reduced in amount, and they've separated from the windpipe by a whole two inches. See?” He points at the edges of the lungs and at the windpipe, but you understand what he means. The flowers are there, no doubt, but it’s almost like — a whole stem of them just disappeared into thin air.

Of course this could’ve been because you coughed them up, but the coughed up flowers go instantly, or so you’ve heard. There’s confusion written on all of your faces right now.

“Is that why I was feeling lighter and easier to breathe today? Because the flowers withered off and gave more space for air?” You ask in your low voice, and your doctor nods.

“Seems like it. Do you have your previous scan?” Your mother hands it to him quickly after a great deal of fishing out of her purse.

He places the earlier scan behind the newer one, and suddenly, you can see what he means. It’s almost like they shrunk — you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but nonetheless, you’re happy you can breathe a bit more.

“What does this mean, though?” Jeongin asks, bewildered at the strange news. The room is so quiet and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, and you can see both your mother and Jeongin waiting for the doctor’s words.

“It means that we’ll take another scan tomorrow, a deeper one. And check if the flowers are actually collecting somewhere else, or just disappearing. And if they are disappearing…” He trails off, and you giggle when Jeongin and your mother lean forward in anticipation, though curious yourself.

“She’ll be home by Christmas. Or even earlier, if the recovery speed is fast.”

“Y-You mean… I can be cured?” Your voice shakes with hope, and the doctor smiles sweetly at you, before nodding.

“Yes dear, you’ll be the first patient who’s walked out of this place cured from hanahaki.”

At that moment, it almost feels like every flower inside your chest wilts out — you feel so light, so ecstatic. You’re over the clouds at the news, and don’t even hear your mother’s cries of thankfulness before the doctor heads out.

“Y/N!” Jeongin exclaims, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his heart and the burn in his cheeks when he cups your own. “You’re gonna come home!”

You shake with soft sobs, and smile at Jeongin.

“I’m gonna come home.” Provided the scan tomorrow showed a positive result, but you don’t bother to mention that part.

And the next day, when your scan results come back, a huge smile adorns your face, and your mother is in tears. Happy tears.

The sunshine is overly bright today, leaving you squinting for sight, especially when you’re seated in a garden out in the open, book in one hand and the other one resting against the cool, moist grass. The air holds a musky forest scent, and you revel in the feeling of the shivers the cold air that cuts through skin brings.

The park is relatively empty for the morning — you’re glad it is, because it brings on a sense of calmness that you seem to like. The surroundings are just perfect — you don’t want anyone to disrupt your mood right now.

So yeah. The story ends that way. You recover, bit by bit, though it takes a whole bunch of time. There were times when you still had to cough out those petals, but you couldn’t be happier — it felt as though you were spitting out those vicious thorns that had tormented and threatened your life. The doctors had no idea how you’d managed to recover — but this was an interesting case to put into their portfolio, so they weren’t complaining.

And oh, you had Jeongin to help you through all of it, of course. 

It had taken you two weeks to be discharged from the hospital and be able to finally walk again, but when you did it — you felt like a whole new person, in a whole new world. Sure, you had to hold onto your mother or Jeongin wherever you went for the first week or so — it was almost like your legs had turned jelly.

When you returned home, Jeongin insisted that he take you to the garden every day, and when you complained that you couldn’t walk, he’d lifted you into his arms (bridal style, again) and carried you all the way there, and then given you a piggyback ride you all the way back home.

Eventually, you ended up telling him the truth — that the unrequited love that caused everything was because of how you’d fallen for him. You figured he deserved it, especially when he’d stuck with you the whole time without any hesitation and helped you whenever he could — he was truly one of the nicest, kindest people you’d ever met.

Of course, you were surprised when Jeongin only smiled and told you that he knew what you were talking about, and then proceeded to narrate how he’d overheard you in the hospital. Giggles left his lips when you gave him that meme-worthy look, making him shake his head before slinging and arm over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, that night ended just like the books — lovey-dovey confessions exchanged in the warm and intimate setting of the night sky, over shy smiles and lingering kisses. The both of you finally gave in to each other.

Huh, so maybe you were wrong about them — books — after all.

So when, your love was returned in the end, every flower in your chest had finally disappeared, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“You know when I brought you here I wanted you to help me pick flowers and not read a book?”

You laugh at the voice that comes from behind, closing the book shut before placing it on the side while Jeongin takes a seat beside you, hissing at the slight coldness of the grass. Ah, what a romantic scenario — green and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see, a book that you’ve been trying to finish but have never been able to because your boyfriend keeps interrupting you with his random outbursts of affection, and said person sitting right next to you.

“Well, you keep interrupting me all the time!” You chuckle, sliding a hand behind his shoulder before pulling him down to lie on your lap, and Jeongin complies. A sigh of content leaves his lips when he feels your fingers comb through his hair to rid them of any tangles — Jeongin feels stupid to not realise how much he loves you. It feels nice to call you his, feels nice to be able to say I love you, in all of it’s true meaning.

“What, I can’t cuddle my girlfriend now? Come on,” He takes your other hand in his, turning onto his back to look up at you before pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You feel the heat creep up your cheeks when he calls you his girlfriend, still not being able to take it in without growing immensely shy.

“You crybaby, fine. I’ll read the book later only because I love you and you give exceptionally nice cuddles.”

“Hmm, good.” He mumbles sleepily, eyes fluttering shut in calmness when he feels your fingers brush away any stray locks of hair that may get into his eyes. The reaction to your touch is so immediate these days, Jeongin thinks it’s a part of his routine now. Spend at least an hour admiring you in all of your happy, healthy glory.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting there, admiring his features in silence. His hair has grown longer now — Jeongin refuses to cut it no matter your endless verbalizations of how his original haircut looked better — and a small part of you has grown fond of this look too. His warm skin, and his sparkly eyes when he looks up at you, the bright, loving smile that he displays before getting out of your lap, kissing you on your lips to break you out of your focus.

The action only makes you more shy, and Jeongin laughs, cooing at your behavior before standing up, dusting his clothes off the dirt and extending his hand for you.

“Lend me a hand, will you?”

The line seems vaguely familiar and you’re overcome with a sense of deja vu, but nonetheless, you give him your hand, standing up before picking up your satchel and handing him his own.

“Now are you gonna pick a rose for me or do I have to do it myself again?” Jeongin raises an eyebrow and smirks, and you frown, slapping his arm before walking off to check all the flowers in their bushes.

“Hey, wait for me! Y/N!”

When he reaches you, he slides a hand into your own, interlacing the fingers before looking at you lovingly.

“I love you.” You both say at the same time, giggling at each other soon after — perhaps at how well you knew each other to time the confession so well.

So, this is how it ends. While you do think that things could’ve been handled differently, you’re glad that everything went the way it went, because in the end, you’d found him, he’d found you, you’d discovered your feelings together. You loved each other.

Because love and a red rose could never be truly hid.

but what if she had never recovered?

taglist: @inkidz​ @stayverse​ @districtninewriters​ @kpopscape​ @skzwritersclub​ + @sunoo-luvs​ @sleepylixie​ @rae-blogging​ @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @guerillrah​ @p2q3r4​ @baby-innie​ (Please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!) *oh holy lord pls let this show up in the tags*

[chanelsebbie]

𝗩𝗶𝗰𝗲 | 𝘀.𝗿.

✝ Warnings: SMUT, manipulation, dub-con, innocent!reader, age-gap, dark!bishop!steve rogers, branding. 

✝ Masterlist

✝ Summary: After being caught committing lustful acts, y/n is brought to the bishop for reconcile. 

✝ A/n:  Reader just turned 18, this is sinful, if you are offended, please don’t read. With that being said, after reading this, you best chug a gallon of holy water. 

𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖌 𝖌𝖔𝖉

𝕭𝖎𝖌 𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖚𝖕

Florence + the Machine, Big God

“No! Let me go!” the girl with a small voice ordered futily, the sound echoing off the large corridors as the nuns pulling her along payed no mind. 

She fought against them, but it was useless, for it would only make their conviction worse. She had sinned, and like everything, sinning came with a grave price. Especially at the young woman’s academy. 

She knew the bishop would be cross. Not only for her sin but for the timing. It was in the late hours of the night, but there she was, caught red-handed and in nothing but a snow-white bra and panty set, being dragged through the empty halls of the institution, everyone else sleeping. 

Soon enough, she was faced with the large wooden double-doors of the bishop’s office, the lion knocker on the door seeming to snarl smugly at the girl as if it knew her fate. 

One of the nun’s calloused old fingers wrapped around the handle clutched in the metal feline’s mouth, before knocking three times, the young girl counting absentmindedly. 

A harsh and inharmonious voice called out an ill-toned ‘Come in’. The girl could have sworn she was on the verge of a panic attack. What she had done was wrong, but why did it feel so good?

The door was opened by one of her captors, walking her in before throwing her to the ground, her knees scraping up against the stone floors as she let out a pained yelp. She refused to look up, knowing that his eyes would be trained on her. 

“Archbishop Rogers,” one of the nun’s began, “We caught this young lady committing an act of lust, and demand her to repent and save her faith plagued with desire.”

The man stood up from his working desk, setting his pen down, stepping in front of the trembling girl, almost anticipating her to look up at him. 

“Leave us, sisters,” 

His voice sent a tight shock through her spine, making her scramble to her knees, her ass resting on her heels, folding her hands in front of her, waiting as if she were about to be struck. 

As soon as the great wooden doors closed, the bishop took a deep breath and began to speak. 

“Tell me,” he starts, “what is your vice?”

She quivered at the question, embarrassed to admit what she had truly did wrong. But in knowing that the longer it took to get it out of her, the more torturous the punishment would be.

“I-” she cleared her throat, “I h-have committed a lustful act,” she swallowed hard as she heard the man above her sigh, beckoning her to continue, “I feel as if I’ve been consumed by demons. The devil has put thoughts into my head... scandalous thoughts... and it creates such a tension between my legs,” she took in a shaky breath, “I can’t help but touch myself to relieve the pain.”

His jaw clenched at her confession, crossing his arms. 

“Do you understand the gravity of your actions?” he catechized her, making her nod her head ‘yes’.

“Yes, Archbishop Rogers, I do.” she now had the courage to look up at the man above her, “I am willing to do whatever it takes to be right by the Lord’s name,”

His crossed arms unraveled, one of his hands going down to cradle the girl’s cheek as she leaned into his touch like an obedient dog, desperate for the relief and to bear no malice to her God. 

When she looked up at him with her doe-like eyes, full of hope, there was a glint of guilt. 

“First, recite ‘Hail Mary’,” he commanded, her head now hanging low again, not noticing that his hands were now reaching his pants, the leather of his belt coming undone. 

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” she began, “The lord is with thee-”

Her face was suddenly jerked up, his hand wrapping around her head before pushing her forward, her open mouth suddenly filled with the mass of his cock, only half of her mouth consuming it. 

Her tongue squirmed as she tried to pull away, but the archbishop’s strength was unparalleled to hers, her struggles futile. Her hands went to his thighs to anchor herself. 

“A demon had infiltrated your mind, my child,” he grunted, “I know how to rid you of this evil, but you must do as I say.”

She did the best she could to nod her head, before getting pulled back by her hair. 

“Did I tell you to stop reciting?” he growled, “Don’t make me start you over,”

“Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit-” she was pulled forward violently back on his cock, deeper his time, his tip touching the back of her throat as she gagged, tears welling up in her eyes, doing her best not to bite down. 

She was pulled back once again, “of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary-”

Tears were now spilling down her face like a river, her face flushed as his cock seemingly went down her throat, the groans of her superior above her making her whimper. 

“Mother of God, pray for us sinners now,”

He didn’t pull her in this time like she was expecting, “and at the hour of our death.” she finished, panting as she winced at the archbishop’s killer grip on her hair, “Amen.”

“Remarkable job,” he praised, before standing her up, taking her hand and leading her to his desk, before harshly pushing her down against it, smirking at her gasping reaction. 

“P-Please? Haven’t we done enough?” she questioned, pleaded, earning her a slap on her ass, getting pulled up chest to back with him as his lips reached her ear. 

“I am a vessel of God,” he hissed, “And he lives through me as I do him. I’m cleansing you...,”

His fingers made their way under the hem of her underwear, pulling them down, her dripping cunt coming into view, the archbishop squatting down after pushing her back on the desk. She whimpered at the feeling of his breath against her sex, Rogers letting out a dark chuckle before leaning forward, licking a torturous strip across her slit. 

“God, you taste so good,” he groaned against her pussy, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” his rhetorical question made her clench. 

She let out a soft moan at the sexual touch that was for once, not her own. He did this several more times before he stood straight back up again. 

She whined when she felt his wide tip tease her entrance, circling his cock, the anticipation almost painful, his breathing echoing off the expanse of his large office. The moonlight shown through the stained glass windows, reflecting on the expanse of her back, making the archbishop all the more attracted to her seemingly supernatural glow. 

“Plea-” she was cut off by a loud moan ripping its way through her throat, the feeling of being stretched out so far painful.

“Fuck! Fuck, you’re so tight-” he cursed into the open air, his hands latching onto her hips when he bottomed out. 

He didn’t grace her with the opportunity to adjust, before he started to move, slowly, making her feel every ridge and vein. 

“You better start praying,” he coaxed, her head nodding.

“O-Our father, who art in h-heaven, gl-glory be thy name,” she whined out, making the man behind her rut his hips harder and harder with each verse, “hallowed be th-thy name. Thy kingdom c-come,” she paused to catch her breath, earning her a harsh tug on her scalp.

“Didn’t tell you to stop,” he growled, bushing harder and faster inside her. 

“thy will be done, on earth, as it is in h-heaven, g-give us this day our da-ily bread and... and...,” her brain was fogged with pleasure as he was getting pounded into, Rogers annoyed at her reluctance. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” he degraded, “don’t make me start you over,” his pace slowing down. 

She whined before starting again, “forgive us our tr-trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against u-us-”

She clenched around him, making him let out a genuine moan, and it was the most angelic sound she had ever heard, a coil tightening inside her as she cursed silently. 

“Come on, princess, we can finish it together,” he offered. 

“P-Please,” she gasped, gagging on air as she did her best to keep a level head and know what she was supposed to say next. 

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” they said in perfect sync. 

“Come on, so close, just-” before he could finish, he released inside of her with a yell, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

The warm feeling in her gut made the coil inside her snap as well as she fell off the deep end, long and passionate moans leaving her lips as she trembled and tensed from such an earth-shattering orgasm. 

The archbishop walked in front of the lit fireplace, poking at it with a fire poker before setting it down, the pointy end positioned over the fire. 

The girl thought nothing of it as she sat in an armchair, covered in nothing but a blanket as she gave a dopey smile to the nude man approaching her. He picked her up, before sitting himself down, placing her in his lap. 

Her head rested against his chest as he gently played with her hair. 

“Am I cleansed?” she questioned, nudging herself closer into him. 

After a small amount of time, he gave a quick, lack-luster response. 

“Yes.”

“What happens if the demons come back? If my thoughts turn sinful again?” she whimpered at the thought. 

“Well, I have a way I can make sure they don’t.” he smirked to himself, “Stand up, will you?”

She did as she was told; his perfect little obedient pet. Before she could question anything, she was grabbed by the wrists and slammed up above her head, her back against the wall next to the fire place, Steve reaching over and grabbing the bow heated fire poker.

It clicked for her as her eyes widened.

“W-Wait!” she squeaked, looking at the red-hot end of the fire poker, his fingers wrapped around it tightly. 

When the scalding metal touched the skin of her breast, she let out a pained cry, a sickening sizzle ringing through her ears as she sobbed. The burning touch seemed to last for ages, before it was finally brought away, but the pain never ceased. 

The shape made her stomach turn, the man pulling the girl in an embrace as she sobbed, shushing her.

There, over her right breast, was the mark of the lord. A blistering cross, that would be an eternal reminder of their shared moment together.

“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit,” Steve spoke, right before her world went black from shock.

[charmingyong]

Noxious Cherry (1)

Part 1 | Part 2

Genre: criminal!Taeyong x fem!reader

Warnings: psycho, deception, theft, shootings, swearing, car explosion

Word count: 2.7k

Plot: You found a pink haired man lying on the ground and decided to check up on him when you should have run away. 

A/N: I AM OBSESSED WITH TY’S GTA! This genre reminds me of @taeyongtime’s Pre: Ace of Fools so do check that out if wanting another psycho read.

Gif: mine

- ❀ -

Finally home time!

The feeling of settling into your car after the end of your night shift was a pleasant one. You relaxed your head against the headrest and let the exhaustion from having to stand hours preparing the endless coffee orders leave your body before starting your car. You drove down the empty streets, a few nonfunctioning streetlamps creating a dim lighting along the sidewalks. Mindlessly, you passed by a park where a dark figure laid still on the ground.

Reaching a red light of an intersection, you thought back to the thing you caught a glimpse of earlier and something itched in you to go back and check it out. When the lights turned green, you made a U-turn and found the figure still there, unmoving.

Walking closer to it, you realized it was a boy with pink hair, eyes closed looking unconscious, though his chest rhythmically rose up and down. You squinted to get a better look of his face under the low lighting and did not spot a single scratch on the skin to hint any signs of him being injured.

Is he okay? you thought. Should I wake him up?

Worried that he could have been bruised under his clothes, you called for him. “Hello? Are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, his eyes fluttered open and his breath hitched upon seeing a beautiful face up close. You were relieved that he was alive, but grew uneasy when he merely stared at you, not responding back to you with words.

“Um, are you okay?” you asked again, hoping he would say something about why he was on the ground in the middle of the night.

He only groaned as he shifted his weight to sit upright, rolling his neck and shoulders in circles to alleviate the tensed muscles.

“Should I call the ambula-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off with a small glare. He couldn’t afford getting caught if he were taken to the hospital, especially when he didn’t even need to go there in the first place.

You bit your lip nervously, unsure what to do next. You didn’t want to be rude and leave him alone all of a sudden, but you really wanted to go home. Should you drop him home? Get a grip, Y/N! He was a stranger, and you couldn’t tell if he was safe enough to bring him inside your car. “But are you hurt?”

“It’s not that bad,” he replied. “Just take me home.”

Shit.

Looked like you were taking him into your car.

“Where do you live?” You hoped he didn’t live somewhere too far so you could get under the covers of your cozy blankets as soon as you could.

The boy cocked his head to the side and gazed at you in amusement. “Take me to your home.”

You were thankful it wasn’t summer just yet. Otherwise, mosquitoes would have entered your jaw-dropped mouth. Was he crazy? Why would anyone in their right mind ask to be taken to a complete stranger’s home? Especially one where you lived alone. “Why my home? Don’t you have one?”

He propped his upper body up with hands resting beside him, watching you with a dark glint in his eyes that you failed to notice. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

The boy was adamant and wouldn’t take no for a response, making you pray to the Lords that nothing bad would happen when taking home the pink haired whose name you learned was Taeyong.

-

Your keys repeatedly failed to connect with the lock of your house. It was hard to when Taeyong’s intense gaze was fixed on your side profile. “Sorry,” you nervously chuckled. “I’m really tired from work,” you tried reasoning.

After struggling for a while, he snatched the key from your grasp and unlocked the door, pushing it open and inviting himself in. You stay rooted by the entrance, shocked that Taeyong casually opened the door and simply walked in as if it were his house.

Taeyong looked around your place, interested to see the soft-hearted person you were with various photos of your loved ones hanging on the walls.

“Do you need the first aid kit?” you asked.

He touched himself in the stomach and hissed. “Yeah.”

You nodded and went to search for the kit in the bathroom. When out of his sight, Taeyong plopped down on the sofa, letting out a long exhale and half smiled. He found it new and amusing with someone being concerned for his well-being.

With the kit in your hand, you took a moment to calm down your racing heart. Taeyong was not letting you feel comfortable for a reason that you failed to decipher. You met your gaze in the mirror and told yourself that nothing bad should happen. How could a wounded boy harm a girl?

You walked back into the living room and were relieved to see Taeyong resting on the sofa with his eyes closed. If he wanted to harm you, then he wouldn’t be lounging around like that. “I brought it.”

He hummed and opened one eye. “You can leave it there and head for bed,” he said nodding towards the small table in front of him.

“Don’t you need any help though?” What if he had any wounds on his back that he couldn’t reach?

Taeyong clicked his tongue. “I’ll be fine.”

“I have a guest bedroom. You can sleep there,” you offered.

He shook his head. “I’m fine here.”

“But the sofa isn’t-”

“I’m fine.”  

You bit back your tongue, letting him decide on his own what was best for him. It was odd that he wouldn’t opt for a bed to let his body relax and heal faster. “Okay, I’ll bring you a pillow and blanket then.”

“I don’t need them. That throw will be fine.” He pointed at one draped over the armchair.

Were you being too pushy? Why was this guy refusing everything that you were kindly offering? “Okay… I’ll head up then. G’night.” With that, you hurriedly went up to your refuge and finally called it a night.

Once the coast was clear, Taeyong pulled off his denim jacket and shirt over his head, observing his skin.

Flawless skin.

Not a single wound spotted.

You’re a cute one, he thought and smirked to himself.

- ❀ -

You took Taeyong out for shopping the next day, as per his so-called request. It was more of a demand. You didn’t understand why he was staying at your place but decided to keep your mouth shut and hoped that he’d leave you soon.

While you wandered around the cosmetics section, Taeyong left your side, his eyes catching interest of the sparkling diamonds department.

“Hello, sir. What would you like to see?” the woman behind the counter asked sweetly.

Taeyong paid no mind looking at her and locked his gaze on a specific 2 carat round eternity engagement ring in 14k white gold. “How much is that?” he pointed at the ring enclosed in the display case.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars, sir.”

Taeyong let out a whistle and propped his elbow on the casing. He turned around to search for you, finding you try on a couple of samples on your skin, and his lips curled up when seeing you pleased with the products.

The man not being by your side gave you some time to calm your heart down. You didn’t know why you felt that way with Taeyong when he hadn’t done anything to harm you. Something warned you from the inside to not trust him, even though he hadn’t done anything to invade your privacy at home. You were glad that he chose to sleep downstairs and so a part of you grew fond for him despite the short time.

Then what was this feeling that you probably made a grave mistake for helping him out last night?

You put away the product testers and searched for Taeyong, spotting the pink one easily as he leisurely passed by two security guards and picked out a pistol from its holder without them knowing.

“What the…” you breathed out. What was this guy going to do with a gun?

Taeyong made his way over to the fire alarm system and pulled it down. A loud, 3-beep pattern resonated throughout the store and numerous customers panicked, dashing out the building while the guards tried to figure out what was going on. The boy walked back to the diamonds where the employee was still there, frantically locking everything up before leaving for safety.

“Give me the ring,” Taeyong ordered. His blank expression made the woman not take him seriously and ignored him. Just when she was about to leave the counter, Taeyong held up the gun at her forehead and repeated. “Give me or I’ll shoot you.”

“B-But th-there’s a fire!” she cried. She didn’t want to die from the fire, or from the gunshot, or from her boss that she gave one of the most expensive rings away for free.

“There’s no fire. Quit wasting time or I’ll shoot.”

The guards caught up on the situation. “Hey you! Put that gun down or I’ll shoot you!” one said, while the other informed the situation through his walkie talkie.

Taeyong grabbed the woman in the blink of an eye, holding her as a shield with the gun pressed against her temple. “If you come near me, she dies.”

The guards backed away and held their hands up. “Okay okay! Let her go, man.”

I will, but after I get my ring, he thought.

He pulled the worker behind the counter, keeping her in front of him, and ordered her again. She obeyed, the fear of having to die from his gun scariest than any other consequence she’d have to face later. “D-Do you want the r-ring casing?”

“Just the damn ring.”

She handed it over with shaky hands. He shoved it inside the pocket of his jeans and shot the two guards down. The woman screamed and he pushed her away.

“Chill. I won’t kill you unless you get in my way.”

He sprinted to your rooted spot where you silently watched the scene unfold. Taeyong pulled you out of your shock self when he grabbed your hand and darted for the exit, letting your feet automatically respond to his action.

“Pass me the car key,” he instructed.

You didn’t want to, not when he shot two people in front of your eyes. But you chose to trust him than get caught now that you were technically his partner in crime. You both rushed to your car with him diving into the driver’s seat while you in the passenger. The police sirens could be heard from a distance and Taeyong wasted no time and slammed on the accelerator without putting on his seatbelt.

He went over the speed limit, overtaking the slower cars in the lanes as he tried to widen the gap between him and the flashing red and blue lights. A red traffic light was fast approaching, and cars were lined up ahead. But the boy made no plans to pull the brakes.

“You need to slow down!” you screamed.

The pink haired peeked at the rearview mirror, spotting the cops not too far behind them.

“Taeyong, stop!” Right before he could touch the stopped vehicles, he swerved the car abruptly to the empty lanes.

The lanes for the opposite direction.

You pulled at your hair, close to losing your sanity. “Are you fucking trying to kill us?”

The cops took a while to decide on the next course of action before following suit. He smirked, pleased with himself. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m good at this.”

Traffic was ongoing perpendicular to your direction and you were horrified with what the psycho was planning to do next. Without slowing the speed, Taeyong sped through the intersection once spotting an opening. Cars screeched to a stop and honked at the maniac driver.

This was a nightmare.

The very nightmare that the pink haired found thrilling.

Once on a street clear of any other vehicles besides yours and the police, you shouted, “I’m feeling fucking sick!”

“Hang in there. The show’s almost over.”

Wait…

What?

He checked the rearview again and the spacing was perfect. There were only two cars after them, making it easy for his plan to work.

Taeyong slammed the brakes and turned the steering wheel all the way, spinning the car 360 degrees. You screamed and held onto the handle tightly, shutting your eyes.

“Hold the wheel,” he said.

“What?”

He grabbed your hand and placed it on the steering wheel. “Hold it,” he directed. After you did, Taeyong pushed your head below the windows, clear from his aim. He lowered the glass barriers and shot at an incoming auto, aiming perfectly at the one in front of the other which resulted it to swerve out of control. This caused the one behind it to collide and flip over onto its roof. And not too long after-

BAAM!

It exploded into flames, ending the chase.

-

Taeyong stepped out of your new car and you followed, slamming the door shut angrily. “Why the fuck did you do that?” Your eyes moisten from the intense anger that built up inside.

He rounded the vehicle and stopped in front of you, alarming you when he suddenly grabbed your hand.

You tried to yank your hand free, but his grip was tight. “What the hell are you doing?”

His hand dug in his pocket for the stolen ring and slid it onto your ring finger. “I got this for you,” he spoke quietly while admiring the beauty that rested on your hand.

Your rage died for a moment, puzzled that he’d do such a thing to get you a ring. “Why?” Tears fell from its place and you wailed. “Why did you do it?” You never asked for any of this, from the theft to the shootings, to him even changing your car at a dealership who he was well acquainted with.

Taeyong shrugged coolly as if it was no big deal. “Just felt like it. I saw it and I wanted to get it for you. Usually I steal cars, so be honoured that I stole a beauty like that for you.” He winked at you and walked inside your house.

You took a moment to scream your frustration out, almost kicking the car before deciding against it. Walking in, you found the boy sprawled on the sofa, eyes closed.

“If you wanted to get me it, then you should have paid for it like a normal person would!”

He peeked at you through one eye. “Do you know how much that’s worth?”

It was a no brainer that it was expensive. But exactly how much… “No.”

“Twenty-five grand.”

Talk about getting all the wind knocked out of your lungs. That was nearly how much you’d make in a year and you were not going to wear it.

Especially when it was involved in a criminal act.

You ripped it off your finger and chucked it at him. He swiftly caught it as if he expected that reaction from you.

“Get the fuck out of my house! And don’t you dare show me your face again!”

Taeyong slowly sauntered to you, a predatory look in his eyes. You backed away from him trying to keep a distance until your backside met the wall. He trapped you in his arms, resting his hands on either sides of your face and wore a smug smile. “I can. But what will happen to you?”

You blinked and attempted to gulp down the ball forming at the back of your throat. “W-What do you mean?”

He lifted one hand off and showed you the ring. “They’ll be looking for this and footage from the security cameras will show that there was a boy and a girl that left together with the ring.”

Oh crap.

“I’m an expert at running away without getting caught, sweetheart. But if you don’t want to get caught, then you’ll have to keep me around. I’ll make sure both of us will be safe.” Taeyong leaned close to your ear, whispering with a hot breath that sent a shiver down your spine, “It’s my specialty.”

[teyvattherapist]

Write to Me

eh fuck it here ya'll go. pspspsps dain simps come get your food.

Anyways it features my oc, I'm too lazy to rewrite it, and I think this is cute. Sooo, posting it anyways.

tags: gn!readerxDainsleif, fluff, soulmate au babyyy, it do always be angst when u squint, dain was a ho as a young man as he should be honestly, oc mention? not massive tho just in the bg, kaeya and albedo making bets

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he was younger he wasn’t exactly monogamous, sleeping with whatever pretty thing piqued his fancy, his status and good looks lending to men and women throwing themselves at him. He didn’t think he had a soulmate, no lovely voice in his head, he could see colour just fine, and whenever he wrote or drew on his arm there was nothing in return. Not a single scratch that wasn’t his own, nothing. So he did whatever he wanted, there wasn’t anybody matching his soul.

But he was older now, much older. Centuries passed since he was a young man at the centre of many people's hearts. Now he was a disgraced knight and a traveler. He was busy tracking down and destroying the Abyss Order, his traveling companion gone, he had nothing but his duty once more. He stayed away from cities as much as he could, only going in to restock his supplies.

Imagine Dainsleif’s surprise when he woke up one day, odd blue squiggles on the tainted skin of his right arm. It wasn’t anything fancy, a small little smiley face with awful handwriting beside it, a tiny ‘hi’. He outstretched his arm, blinking once, twice, he tried to rub it off. But it didn’t come off. Now? Really? NOW?! He didn’t want to write back, he didn’t want to draw anything. They were more than likely a child judging by the writing, he could just pretend he never saw this.

But they didn’t cease. Apparently when he had rubbed the drawing, it had showed up on them. ‘Yuo real?’ Dainsleif groaned, pulling his gloves on instead. He didn’t have time for this. So Dainsleif ignored it, ignored the messages that sometimes showed up on his arms and he ignored the drawings, no matter how good or awful they were. His duty came first, and he was several centuries old. He simply couldn’t pay attention to it.

But as the years went on the messages began to slow. How many years had passed? Ten? Twenty? He wasn’t entirely sure, his memory blending together, fragmenting and hazing over. Bits and pieces here and there. ‘I hope you’re well, you’ve been quiet.’ A message scrawled on his left arm and he stared at it in the dark of the tent.

‘I am well. And you?’

‘And here I thought my soulmate died. I’m fine.’

Dainsleif sighed, blue eyes flicking upwards at the material of the tent. They deserved somebody so much better. The Twilight Sword was not that somebody. He looked back at his arm, a name, he assumed, was scrawled beside the words.

‘Dainsleif.’

‘Like the sword?’

‘Like the sword.’

“Fascinating. I must be going to sleep now, I have work early. Goodnight, Dainsleif.’

Dainsleif dropped his arm beside him, a soft sigh escaping his lips. How ridiculous was this. The Gods truly hated him to gift him a soulmate when he was what, five hundred and twenty five? His poor soulmate, too. He couldn’t stop thinking about what an unfortunate situation it was for them, perhaps it was the way he showed he did care, even if he hadn’t met them or spoken to them beyond reading the occasional message they wrote.

-

You hurried through the hallway, already late for work, the fifth time that month. You spared a wave to Sucrose who was exiting Albedo’s laboratory and she smiled, waving back. You quickly threw open the door to the laboratory across from Albedo’s, entering swiftly. “I’m so sorry Ohm, my alarm didn’t go off again and- Oh!” You stopped, realising there was somebody else in there.

The medical captain looked around the man dressed in interesting garb, smiling when he saw it was you. “Hello, (y/n)! Nothing to worry about. Ahem, where was I? Oh yes! Same rules as before, but try to apply it more sparingly, I don’t want you building up an intolerance until I can find something stronger.” Ohm held out a jar of azure gel but the man was stiff, unmoving. “Teyvat to Dainsleif?”

“Wait- Dainsleif?” You stopped, dropping the papers you had been holding. They scattered everywhere and Ohm tilted his head, periwinkle hair falling into his face, a clear sign of his utter confusion. Dainsleif turned to you, his eyes were stunning, blue and the pupils- he was gorgeous, that was the first thing that came to you and you felt your cheeks warming at his piercing gaze.

“Well would you look at the time, I have to go uhm, annoy Albedo. It's in my schedule. Please lock the lab if you are to leave. Dainsleif heed my orders or I’ll find you.” Ohm stood up, he rounded Dainsleif, grabbing the bough keeper’s hand and placing the jar into it. He then let go and walked away. He put one hand on your shoulder and leaned in close. “Be nice, he’s shy.” The doctor whispered and then he was off, shutting the door behind him with a click.

You bent down to pick up the paperwork now that the initial shock wore off. Dainsleif also seemed to snap back into action, pocketing the jar. He stepped forward, crouching down to help you with the papers. “I apologise, your Gods have chosen an awful soulmate for you.” He was blunt, apparently. His voice deep and soothing nonetheless. He held the papers out in a bandaged hand and you hesitantly took them.

“I don’t know, I think you’re pretty. Even if you ignore me.” Did you really just- You stood quickly, walking by him and to the desk on the other side of the room, the small wooden desk you had claimed as your own. “Ahem, are you injured? I suppose you must be if you’re visiting the medical captain.” You trailed off, sorting the papers neatly on the desk.

“No, yes, technically.” Dainsleif stood, brushing off his dark pants. You turned, quirking an eyebrow at him as he moved back to the captain’s desk to retrieve a glove that matched his other one. Was it worth it? To give up his secrets? To show just why they should stop speaking to him and run far far away? He grabbed his glove and hesitated, looking at the thick material. He shook his head, pulling the glove over his bandages.

“Well, if you’re ever in need of care and you’re in Mondstadt, just write. Ohm has been teaching me how to do what he does. Though I can’t really do it like him yet, I’m still a pretty alright healer.” You offered with a soft smile even though he wasn’t looking at you. Dainsleif hesitated, adjusting his glove. Kind, dedicated to a good cause, funny sometimes. He cursed his feelings.

Dainsleif turned towards you, pressing himself against the desk as if to steady himself. His eyes flicked to the side, he was clearly thinking of something. He closed his eyes for a moment, nodded to himself, and then opened them again. “Ask your mentor about the Twilight Sword. I’m afraid I must take my leave. Write to me.” Dainsleif pushed himself off the desk and with a swiftness you weren’t sure was human, he was gone.

Immediately you brought your nail to your arm, writing gently. ‘I like your cape.’

‘Thank you, I like your cloak.’

Oh he was awkward awkward. Cute. You smiled at the words before getting back to work, these medical reports wouldn’t process themselves, after all. Though his words played through your mind, Twilight Sword.. It was oddly familiar but no amount of examining your brain proved useful, oh well. You’d just have to ask later.

Ohm snickered with Kaeya as they watched Dainsleif breeze by them, practically throwing himself down the staircase and out the door. “I’ll bet you one thousand mora he left the explaining to me.” Ohm spoke when he heard the heavy door to the headquarters slam shut.

“Neither of us are dumb enough to bet that, he absolutely did.” Albedo commented, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “The feared Twilight Sword, Bough Keeper of Khaenri’ah brought down by a soulmate, so silly.”

“I don’t know, Albedo, I think it's quite endearing.” Kaeya teased, tapping his chin thoughtfully, but his eye told another story, glinting mischievously. “I’ll take that bet, Ohm. I’ll bet one thousand mora he tells them before he gets back to camp.” He held his hand out and Ohm took his hand, shaking it. Unfortunately, sealing Kaeya’s fate.

“Wait, hold on. I’ll bet one thousand mora he doesn’t do either.”

“That’s the spirit, alchemist.” Ohm shook hands with Albedo who huffed. “We should get back to work.” The medical captain gave a curt nod before he headed further up the stairs and towards the direction of his laboratory.

[icylook]

I will see you again

Pairing: Leon x Leri (MC)

Rating: Mature; Word count: 1655; Read on AO3

Tags: Spoilers for the AMR demo; Not canon compliant - Leon and Leri (MC) started their relationship half a year before the final battle; Established Relationship; Angst and Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Feels; Implied Smut

A Mage Reborn demo 👑 ✨ @mage-parivir

The sound of his footsteps echoes in the hall, torches illuminating the space. All the guards he passes by either nod their heads at him or don’t react at all to his presence, avoiding eye contact. He pays them no mind, answering the subtle greetings with a small tilt of his chin now and then. There are two guards at the door Leri goes for. They shift slightly when he nears but don’t stop him when he knocks lightly, muted murmur of conversation behind wooden door disrupted with strong “Come in”.

He doesn’t hesitate stepping in, leaving the door open so the one talking with Leon would have a clear message of his intentions - your time with the Prince is over, now leave. Especially when the person is Ante, standing in the middle of the sitting room. Light armor on, all in black and the scowl on her face is like a lightning - there and gone - when she sees him.

“Your Highness, please reconsider-” 

“No. And it’s final.” Leon’s stern expression clears when he turns to look at him. “Took you long enough. I thought you'd gone missing.”

Leri ignores Ante, as they agreed all this time ago in the clearing during the rebellion. She was doing her job, observing him closely from the shadows. He was doing his job, making sure they all came out of the mess alive. They had a mutual agreement of not stepping on each other's toes if possible. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t rile her up now and then with his behaviour.

“Saine got a tip about lemon muffins in kitchens. I had to check.”

Green eyes brighten in a hopeful spark. “Did you bring me some?”  

“Should I?” Leri asks playfully, twisting his wrist in a lazy display of magic, summoning one of his pocket dimensions with a small crystal attached to his ring. The enchantment appears in wisps of purplish smoke, revealing a pastry in pristine condition sitting on his palm. When Leon reaches for it, he steps back with a tut. 

“Where are your manners, Your Highness?” His smirk widens when Leon’s confusion slips with a flash of want when he purposely lowers his voice and adds, “Say please.” 

Leon opens his mouth to response when someone clears their throat. Pointedly. Leri glances at Ante staring daggers at him, before her eyes meet Leon’s. 

The tips of his ears redden a little. “Thank you, Ante. Dismissed.” Ante’s back straightens so impossibly fast when she salutes him, Leri is silently amazed it doesn’t crack. 

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Leri dips his head at her with one word goodbye. “Spymaster.”

“Royal retainer.” 

The corners of his lips curl upward at the spite veiled in her carefully neutral tone. She looks at him for a few long seconds, her gaze piercing. Only when he doesn’t falter in his amusement she marches past him, mindful of leaving space so as not to touch him.

“Let me guess, she wanted you to approve sending people after me.” He says after the door closes with a click. Leon’s by him now, gentle fingers seizing the wrist with muffin holding hand. His other hand rests on the belt over Leri’s hip, steering him to lean on Leon’s side. He smiles at his not so sneaky attempt at getting the pastry via distraction. He humors Leon into thinking that it’s working, tilting his head closer to his neck to get a whiff of his clean scent. Rich and comforting.

Leon hums in affirmation. 

“She’ll probably do it anyway.” Leri murmurs. 

“No she won’t.” Leon prepares to take a bite of the pastry, hand carefully holding his own in place. Leri watches as Leon closes his eyes, savouring the cream with bits of sour fruit. Mesmerized by the up close view of pink tongue chasing the taste as he swallows a bite. Half a muffin is gone in a blink and he huffs a laugh.

“I guess some of them were right.” Leon’s brow goes up in silent question. “The Sun Prince is eating straight from my palm.”

He smiles widely before he leans in. “I guess he does.” Their lips meet, softly and slowly. Hints of sweetness sneak into the kiss, mingling with the taste of the pastry Leon just devoured. Leri closes his eyes, nuzzling into the palm that cups his cheek when they part. The roughness of Leon’s skin on his face is a reminder of what they went through. Every callous and scar on his hands is a memento he wants to cherish as long as Leon lets him. He tilts his head to the side until his mouth brushes the middle of Leon’s hand, golden eyes holding intense green.

“You really depart tomorrow.”

Leri nods.

“Anything I can do to convince you to postpone that until the coronation?” Leon’s smile is endearingly sheepish, like he clearly knows the answer but still tries anyway. His brave, stubborn man. 

Guilt twists in his gut. He wants to tell him. Tried to, many times, testing the boundaries of the spell. Choking on words even before his thoughts formulated properly into them, the invisible collar tightening with unnatural force. Its ominous weight sitting at his throat, a reminder of the time wasting away like sand in an hourglass. Grain by grain, closer to their end. 

Once, alone in his chambers, he took it too far when attempting to speak of what he knew, of the great danger hovering over the kingdom. The collar throttled him until he lost his breath, on the brink of consciousness. He fell to the floor, blinking through the tears, black spots dancing in his vision with whispers of blood frantically pounding in his head. Clawing at his neck, curled on the cold stone. Desperate for air as his lungs burned painfully without it. The spell is simply impervious and any knowledge about it is buried in the ruins of the place he hopes to find other answers to. He doesn’t want to, but he has to go. It’s the only way for salvation, for him and for his Sun. For the kingdom.

He can’t tell him that. 

So he crushes their mouths together again, swallowing Leon’s surprised noise. Pushing and taking, until he answers him back with the same urgency. Just like the first time ages ago - the kiss as an answer to the question he couldn’t find the right words for. But as the first clumsy kiss felt like giddiness and relief, this one is full of desperation and need. Leri wants to get closer, needs to get closer and he clings to Leon when they blindly stumble through the door to the next room. Clothes thrown without much thought to the floor, marking their hurried way to the bed.

Leon lets himself be pushed onto his back, Leri crawling over him. He runs his hands through the long ashy strands of Leri’s hair, sighing when their lips meet. 

They don’t leave the bed until much later.

/////

Leri’s standing near the high window overlooking palace gardens in Leon’s bedroom. Now barely seen because of the night’s darkness.

“I wish you’d stay.”

Leon is only a bit taller than Leri, loose trousers low on his hips. He can openly admire the expanse of his uncovered skin and the marks he left on his body because Leri stole his shirt. And it’s the only thing he’s wearing at the moment. 

With arms wrapped around him, the height difference is nonexisting. It’s easy to meet his gaze when he leans back to peer at his face. His eyes meet emeralds, full of warmth and longing. Leri’s fingers gently trace the pale line of a small scar hidden with the hair at Leon’s temple. Evidence of one of too many close calls during the war. 

“Leon.” I wish to stay too. I don’t want to let you go, not after everything. 

“I will see you again.” The words taste like lies, spilling easily like ones. But they hold the truth, one he wants to believe in. Something hot pokes at the back of his eyes so suddenly, he quickly covers it with exaggerated sniff. 

“Besides, I can’t let any of those stuffy nobles take away my rightful position, can I?” His smile feels a little bit too wide. A little bit too forced but he holds it on, just to see the sadness clear from Leon’s expression.

“So I should hold it open for you then?”

“Hold and defend it. Because I’ll be back for it.”

Leon snorts a laugh, hiding it in Leri’s hair. “I feel like it’ll be a battle worse than everything else so far.” He shifts his hands on him, resting them at the small of his back. 

“I expect compensation.” Leon adds playfully, murmuring the words on the skin of Leri’s forehead. His lips feel like a brand when he presses a long kiss to it and Leri has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep his tears at bay. The tenderness of the gesture digs up the storm of emotions he desperately tries to shut down. A prick of sorrow grips at his throat unexpectedly and he can’t hide the shaky exhale in time before Leon notices.

Because Leon does notice, his body stiffening when Leri starts shaking in his arms.

“What’s wrong-” He doesn’t let him finish, doesn’t want Leon to see him like this. Not now, not when the dread starts to rear its ugly head again to cloud his mind. But he doesn’t hide, because it’s useless with Leon. Even if he wants to. So he leans back, his sight a little blurry. His smile’s wet around the corners but it’s more real.

“I will see you again.”

Leon’s lips part, any words stuck to his tongue. Then his face brightens with a smile of his own, eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“I know. I’ll be waiting.”

And Leri will do everything to keep his promise.

Everything.