#anyways i spent way too long on this. it was supposed to be an hour. oh well.

[dodecatemoria]

he doesn't take family reunions well

(original image under the cut)

[windor-truffle]

"he's a ten but he doesn't know how to do his own laundry"

[a-rebellious-waffle]

urgh you know that post about "people who weren't abused don't wish they were abused"

I'm having a real fun night wrestling with that

[aplusod]

some oc art 'cause I haven't done that in a while.

[daycourtofficial]

You’re losing me

Summary: Azriel has always put his duties as spymaster above his own needs and wants. How long can you let him keep putting work over you before boiling over?

Author’s note: I am so sorry about this babes, this is pure heartbreak. Anyway angst is a new genre for me so please lmk how this goes for you (good, bad, awful - lmk)

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

You sit in the library of your shared home, the soft cushion of your favorite armchair not providing the comfort it used to. The library was your favorite room in the house - you and Azriel spent thousands of hours in here reading independently, reading to each other, or just enjoying the silence with each other for company.

The room was beautiful- you both adored the entirety of the house, but this room drew both of you in immediately. It’s beautiful stain-glass windows creating brilliant hues of color to move about the room during the day, bringing life to the dark wood that adorns the walls of the room.

Vivid colors from the scenes in the stain glass window would dance across the floor, as if reenacting the depictions just for you two.

It’s dark now, the sun having set hours ago, and you can’t remember the last time you enjoyed the light of the room. The last time you and Azriel had enjoyed the light of the room.

The last time you and Azriel just enjoyed each other’s company without knowing he was going to leave in a matter of hours.

It was a song and dance you were familiar with by now - he’d return home from doing some work requested by Rhys, you’d make him some food, you two would snuggle or have sex, and he’d be gone by the time you woke up.

It wasn’t always like this, but the two years since the war have caused Azriel to dive headfirst into his work, accepting every scrap of work Rhysand would push his way, darting out the door like it was calling to him.

You hear the front door open, knowing who it is despite their silent entrance. Sighing, you stand up and walk out of the library, closing the door behind you.

You walked through the halls of your home, feet softly padding on the hardwood floor until you see him across the living room, still in his leathers.

It used to amuse you, when he’d return in his leathers, compared to you in your frilly nightgowns. It was quite a sight, the dark leather surrounded by the satins and cottons of your nightgowns.

Now it just furthered to prove the divide between you.

“Az, we were supposed to go to the bakery today to taste cakes.”

You hardly let him walk through the door before picking a fight, but his absence at the bakery hours ago left you ample time to stew in your negative emotions.

He runs his hand down his face, the purple and blue bruising under his eyes having grown more and more prominent over the weeks. Truthfully, you don’t want to start a fight, but you’ve let too many of these things slide in the past two years and you’re at your tipping point.

Missed dates, rescheduled dinners, missed anniversaries, cancelled trips. You had tried talking several times about it, but you need your fiancé around more than he has been. No amount of begging can make him do anything about it, though.

The most egregious of all was the continually delayed status of your wedding ceremony. You’ve had to rescind the invitations two times now, and you’re have tempted to send out fresh ones that just say “date: TBD”.

He just sighs in response, telling you, “I had to work, I had a mission.”

You sigh, knowing it was the truth. Your fiancé would never cheat on you, but he would put everyone else’s needs above his.

And above your own.

“Azriel, I really needed you today. It was important to me for you to be there.”

“It’s just a cake - pick any flavor you want. You know what I like,” he says, sitting onto the couch and taking off his boots.

“It’s not just a cake! This is your wedding too - I cannot make every decision for this. It’s supposed to be about us, not about me.”

You shake your head, exasperation bubbling to the surface, “I feel insane going to these appointments because I have a fiancé who never shows up! I swear I heard the florist say she pitied me because I pretended to be engaged!”

Azriel drags a hand down his face, “can we not do this now? I’m exhausted and want to bathe before bed.”

You huff out a laugh, as Azriel tries to move past you but you continue to follow him. “When would be a better time? You’re hardly home lately, and you leave at a moment’s notice for Rhysand.”

He whips his head at you, “it’s my job, my duty.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure you could delegate a decent proportion of your work to the people under you that you both hand selected and trained yourself!

He sighs, exasperated, “it’s my job.”

A line you’ve heard a thousand times. You knew who he was when you began dating him, you’ve always known who he was and what he did.

But you thought his need to feel worthy would wane with time, not get worse.

“You put Rhys’s needs over mine!” You’re shouting now, something you never do, and Azriel bites back, “he’s my high lord - and yours.”

“That doesn’t mean he gets to keep you at his beck and call!” Your hands were running through your hair, unable to have the same argument again and again.

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Oh so was it Rhys’s beck and call to push our wedding back three separate times?”

He whirls around at you, pointing, “That’s not fair and you know it.”

“Three times is not fair! It’s like you don’t even want it!”

His silence to your accusation rings through your ears. A damning, deafening silence.

You count to ten in your head, and he hasn’t made a sound, only looking at the ground.

His lack of words echo through your mind, even as his hands reach out to you, his desperate pleadings of “I-” and “baby” falling on deaf ears.

“I’m glad to see where we stand.”

You begin to turn, but stop yourself.

“When I told Nesta our wedding was delayed again, she told me if you really wanted it, really wanted me, you’d suggest we just run off and get married like Rhys and Feyre did.”

You take a shaky breath, “but you never did.”

You step back from him, unable to look him in the eye, unable to do much of anything, except retreat from your shared bedroom, softly shutting the door behind you.

Azriel stands in the now empty room, your footsteps ceasing down the hall but continuing in his mind. Every second he stands there, the further you become. He starts to move, starts to pick up his feet, his shadows urging him to go, go, go.

You can fix this, they tell him. Go, now.

His thoughts are broken up by Rhys’s voice, a smooth sound at such odds with the chaotic edges of his thoughts.

Az, I need you.

Azriel doesn’t even ask if it can wait. You’ll understand. He’s sure of it. He can fix things when he comes home. Rhys just needs him right now, he can help him out, then he can talk to you.

He scrawls a quick note on the table for you to find before retreating into his shadows.

He returns home a few hours later, his assistance speeding up Rhys’s needs. He stops to grab you your favorite flowers, a book you’ve been eyeing, and a necklace he’s had his eye on in the shop for ages.

The necklace gives him pause, as he realizes he first saw it eight months ago, its shine reminding him of your eyes.

Had it really been eight months?

He kept telling himself he was going to buy you the necklace for a special occasion, but so many have slipped by without his acknowledgment this past year.

Gods, he thinks, did he even celebrate your birthday?

Surely he hadn’t gotten that caught up in his work.

Had he?

The streets are quiet as he makes his way back to your shared home. He thinks over the past year and how he hardly saw you, and when he did, he often left not soon after seeing you.

He opens the door, the house eerily silent following your fight earlier. He deserved your silence. He couldn’t tell you how scared he was to marry you, tethering your soul to his for the rest of your lives.

You, who was so kind and so loving, shackled to him for eternity. He knew the insecurities were ridiculous, that you loved him with every part of yourself.

But that didn’t stop the self-hatred from oozing out of him every moment.

He hadn’t been there for you this past year. He had let his own need for approval overshadow your needs.

He groans, needing to find you so he can fix things. He walks through the house, not even realizing the book he’s carrying is a duplicate to the one sitting on the coffee table.

He starts really thinking, trying to remember the last time he had touched you, kissed you, held you.

Too long, he realizes, as he’s made his way through the whole house without a sign of you. A shadow wraps around his wrist, pulling him into the kitchen. He finds the note he had left earlier still on the table, but you had scrawled a second message underneath. Five words that break his resolve, forcing him to his knees. Your handwriting so clear, save for the splotched ink, wet from tears.

I wouldn’t marry me either.

Part two

[nerdy-novelist017]

Ponytails and Promises (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader pt 5)

I'm sorry it's taken such a long time to get this posted ☹️ I've been dealing with a few health problems lately and it's made it hard to be creative. I'm not super proud of this but I hope you enjoy it regardless. As always, I'm so grateful for all of you wonderful readers! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.1k+

Summary- Time spent apart has both Benny and yourself wondering what the other is thinking.

******

For the tenth time in a row, you rehearsed what you were going to say as you peddled your bicycle down the street, the morning sun shining through the trees above. You’d been up all night, a ball of nerves working its way through your tummy in preparation of today’s meeting. The diner was busy when you approached, cars and even a few motorcycles parked out front. You hopped off your bike, swallowing thickly as you propped it in the bicycle rack. You tried to spot his motorcycle but quickly scolded yourself for even remembering the particular design of his. Thankfully, you didn’t see it in the lineup. You smoothed out your ponytail and checked your romper for any signs of creasing that he might not like. Satisfied with your appearance, you pushed the front door open and scanned the inside. 

He sat at a booth on the far side and you swallowed your nerves and did a quick assessment of him as you neared. He didn’t look to be physically injured and you breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up when you stood before him and flashed you a quick, fleeting smile. As he said your name and it almost sounded unfamiliar to you. 

“Hi, Pete,” you smiled as you waited for him to stand to greet you. 

He nodded, motioning for you to sit and you tried not to appear dispirited as you slid into the opposite booth. There was a Coca-Cola bottle in front of him and you noticed that he’d ordered you water. You had to remind yourself that he didn’t know you very well yet and that he probably didn’t recall you preferred coke too. 

“You look very nice,” you said, attempting to cut through the awkwardness between you. 

He nodded again, murmuring a thanks.

Okay, better to get straight to your rehearsed lines, you supposed. “Thank you for meetin’ with me. A–and I owe you an apology. Pete, I had no idea he was going to do that.”

“Who was he?” Pete asked directly, cutting your speech short.

You put your hands out of the table in front of you, playing with the straw wrapper as you spoke, “He’s just some guy, a biker–”

“Yeah, I got that. I mean how do you know him?” 

“He . . . was somebody I met when I was out with Kathy. Met him at a picnic,” you explained carefully as your gaze searched Pete’s eyes behind his glasses. “Remember, the one I told you about?”

“She’s becoming a bit of a wild thing, huh?” he asked and you could sense that it wasn’t really a question. There was a blatant statement hanging in his tight voice. 

“She’s always been like that, I think,” you replied, trying to smother the defensive tone in your voice. “And I was only there for a short time, but I guess he took a liking to me.”

Pete hummed, glanced out the window for a moment so you continued, “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what he did. You’re a really good person and you don’t deserve that.” You considered reaching across the table to touch his hand, but he leaned back in his seat before you could. “And. . . I was excited about our date.”

“Do your parents know about where you went? About him?” He seemed not to hear your last statement. 

“No,” you admitted, brow furrowing. In fact, you haven’t told anyone about your date with Benny. Not even Kathy. You just came straight home and went up to bed where you laid awake for hours, mind reeling through every conversation the two of you shared, every word he spoke. 

“They’d never approve of that,” he pointed out as he looked back at you. 

“Well, they’re never going to find out because I don’t plan on seeing him again,” you stated, looking down at the condensation building on the outside of your untouched water glass. 

“Good.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You don’t belong with a group like that, anyway.”

It was strange hearing that from Pete. It was the same affirmation you had told yourself over and over again last night, but hearing him tell you that, as if you didn’t have a choice in the matter, left a bad taste in your mouth. All you could say was, “Yeah. . .”

You wanted to ask exactly what Benny had said to him, but before you could, Pete leaned forward, seeming to be in better spirits and said, “Dolls like you belong on a shelf where they can be admired and not broken.”

His words, at face value, were sweet, kind, but you couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling that toyed in the back of your mind. Pete was the safe choice, you had to remind yourself. Pete was everything you had wanted for your future-husband, for your life. He wanted you to be exactly who you were raised to be. You could be a quiet doll whose whole existence was to sit on a shelf and look pretty. 

You nodded, leaning forward to take a sip of your water as an excuse to not speak. 

“I’m glad we worked through this,” he said as he waved down the waitress to order. 

“Me too,” you said quietly as he ordered for you. And you meant it, you did. But something felt different with him now. There was a shift that seemed to occur and you weren’t sure what it was or if it would ever resolve. Pete didn’t seem to notice as he prattled on about his upcoming golf tournament, falling into a one-sided conversation that he was comfortable with. 

As you absentmindedly picked at your plate of breakfast, you wondered —just briefly— if Benny was eating breakfast right now and if he was, what was on his plate? 

When there was a lapse in silence, you looked up at Pete, suddenly asking, “Are you still planning on coming to the charity picnic with me today?”

His brows pinched together. “What charity picnic?”

“The one I told you about last week? It’s for the children of Chicago fund. Our church is hosting the cookout, remember?” You asked, specifically recalling having this conversation with him on your first date. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt; maybe he had been trying to process a lot of new information about you and this slipped his mind. 

“Oh, right.” He adjusted the glasses on his nose. “I’ll have to check my schedule, make sure I don’t have anything else going on today.”

“Okay,” you nodded. He confirmed that he could go with you a week ago already. You slid out from the booth, grabbing your purse. “Well, I’ll maybe see you there then?”

He followed you, standing to his feet also. “Yeah.”

You made your way outside and he touched your arm before you could reach your bike. You were afraid that maybe he wanted to kiss you as he leaned forward but he only put his arms around you in a friendly hug instead. 

“Bye, (Y/N),” he said as he broke free, turning and going back to his car. 

“Goodbye, Pete.” 

******

Benny lifted the glass to his lips, downing the rest of his drink. The scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil hung heavy in Cal’s garage where he, Johnny, Wahoo and Corky sat around as Cal worked on Corky’s bike. Benny’s eyes burned as he rubbed his face tiredly. He hadn’t slept well last night – worse than the few hours a night he usually got. His mind was too busy, filled with thoughts of you. Of the way your hair cascaded over your shoulder, of the way your dimples show when you smiled brightly. Of the way you looked so damn beautiful even when you were angry. And you were angry at him of all people which admittedly, he still didn't quite understand why. You were upset that he overstepped, sure. He got that. But when it came to a man like Pete? Benny could take one look at that man and see the strained facade he wore like a mask. Benny’s always been good at reading people, at seeing past the guise. And Pete was no good. 

“What do you think, Benny?” someone had asked, drawing him back to reality. 

“‘Bout what?” he asked, looking up at the faces around the garage.

“About the radiator hose,” Cal informed as he motioned to the stripped down bike and Benny honestly didn’t hear what was even wrong with it in the first place. 

“Probably no good,” he replied with a shrug as he dug out his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

As if Johnny sensed Benny’s more than usual reserve, he asked. “Hey, how’d the date go with Bunny last night?”

Benny glanced up at him. “Went good except I think she’s pissed at me.”

Cal laughed. “How could you consider that good then?”

Benny shot him a narrowed look. “We had a misunderstanding.”

“Are ya sure she’s mad?” Wahoo spoke up from the other side of the motorcycle. “When my old lady is horny, she just acts like she’s mad so I spank her and that really gets her going.” 

Benny sighed. “No, she’s mad.”

“Why? What’d you do?” Johnny inquired. 

Benny wanted to argue in his own defense but shrugged. “She’s upset that I had to run off her date.”

“She had a date?” 

“Mh-hm, church-going fellow.” Benny lit his cigarette, taking a long drag of it before continuing, “Caught him before she knew he was there.”

“Did ya kill him or somethin’?” Corky’s eyes widened. 

“Nah, just had a talk with him,” Benny clarified as he stood from his lawn chair, moving to look out the bay door. “He was late to their date anyway and . . . I just wanted to have a talk with him, see what kind of man he was. And I didn’t like what I saw.” He was one of those men who pretended to be something he’s not, who perfected the craft of lying to people – especially women. And Benny didn’t have any respect for liars.

“Okay, what’d you say to him then?” Johnny wondered.

“Just said ‘Are you willin’ to die for her?’ and he said yeah and then I asked if he was willin’ to kill for her because I was.” Benny recalled the twinge of fear in those eyes as he took a long drag of his cig. “And I think he got the message pretty loud and clear after that.”

Johnny and Cal shared a pointed look as a weighted silence followed Benny’s statement. 

“Jesus, kid,” Wahoo murmured. “This girl’s really got you whipped.”

Benny really didn’t want to have this conversation with an audience. He came here in search of Johnny to seek out his advice, but now that he’d confessed to the group, he felt somewhat . . . smaller. He’d never been one to struggle with his confidence, to care what others thought of him. But the idea that you were upset with him, that maybe you didn’t want him anymore, that maybe he’d ruined his luck with you before he’d even had a taste, well, that just struck Benny deep in his chest. It made his fist clench tightly at his side, made his heart beat a little faster.

Suddenly, Johnny was beside him, hand clapping his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Well, if that’s what made ‘em run away, then it sounds like he was no good anyway.”

Benny remained silent, picturing the sight of you walking away from him last night, choosing to walk home in the dark rather than let him drive you back. 

“So, she’s mad at you for that?”

Benny nodded. 

Johnny shrugged. “Let me tell ya a little somethin’ about women; they may be the same species as us but they ain’t the same creature. They don’t think like you and I. When we see somethin’ that needs said or done, we just do it. But they’re more . . . compassionate, empathetic. She probably feels bad for that poor asshole. Probably just wants ya to apologize to him.”

Benny wanted to roll his eyes. He knew all of this. He wasn’t an idiot. “Well, I told her I wasn’t apologizing for it.”

Groaning sounded behind him and Benny clenched his jaw defensively. “I’m not. I can’t apologize for somethin’ I don’t feel sorry for. I don’t regret runnin’ him off and I'd do it again if I have to.” Though if he needed to do it again, he’d probably not openly tell you again. 

“Then you’re goin’ to have to find another way to get back into her good graces, kid.” Johnny shook his head and Benny thought he saw a hint of a smile in his face as he turned away. "You'll think of somethin'."

******

You’d changed your clothes three times before you gave up and just decided to wear the same thing you’d worn to your breakfast date with Pete. Could it be classified as a date? You weren’t even sure where you stood with him now. He seemed to fall back into his usual demeanor, but that was always so closed-off anyway. But so was your father, you supposed. You could see that in the way he’d sit at the head of the table, face hidden behind his newspaper. It was obvious in the way your mother repeated herself over and over again in an attempt to be heard. It was apparent when he was absent during all your years of school accomplishments. That was the normal. It seemed unfair to expect Pete to be any different.

So you went downstairs, packed up your cake (one you had made special for the charity) in the cooler and hopped on your bicycle. The ride to the church wasn’t far but it gave you more time to consider Pete as you waved to neighbors you passed. Though you actively tried to avoid it, you mind drifted to thoughts of Benny. Was he the type of person to wave to neighbors? What kind of neighborhood did he even live in?

By the time you showed up to the church, the event was in full swing. You parked your bike in the rack and carried your cooler through the tents and booths set up, smiling at friends as you went. You found the pastor's wife who directed you to the bake sale booth where there were a couple other girls already setting up. 

“What’ve you got there?” one of the older women asked as you approached, setting your cooler down on the table. 

“A cake.” you grinned as you pulled out the cake, setting it on the display. You had gotten up extra early today to get started on the desert, knowing the congregation was counting on you to supply the design. The inspiration for the design – admittedly taken from a certain biker who you would not be thinking about anymore – was a a field of brightly colored flowers surrounding the base with a family of tiny bunnies to decorate the top. You were pretty proud of it and to hear the ooo’s and ahh’s of the ladies surrounding you boosted your confidence. They set out a donation jar in front of your display and people began to filter by your booth to admire the goods and to grab a free brownie made by one of the other girls at the table. As the event went on and the sun shifted overhead, you thanked the donors and smiled for pictures, all the while your eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to find Pete close by. 

When there was a pause in the flow of foot traffic, you took the time to crouch below the table to replenish the paper plates when a deep, familiar voice broke through your concentration. 

“Got anymore of your famous cookies?” 

You looked up, gaze locking with the ocean blue eyes of none other than Benny Cross.

You gasped and stood up so quickly you nearly knocked your head on the corner of the table. He was staring unabashedly at you, even being so bold as to roam his eyes down your figure and you suddenly wished you had changed into something a little more formal. Ironic, you thought, considering Benny was anything but formal.

His gaze moved from you down to the cake on the table and his brows raised. “You make this, Little Bunny?”

You swallowed, ignoring the rush of butterflies at the nickname. “Mh-hm.”

He bent down to inspect it closer, hands pressing to his knees and you can’t look away. You couldn’t look away from the cerulean gaze beneath a wall of lashes. You couldn’t look away from the slope of his nose nor the quirk of his mouth as he hummed a sound that came deep in his throat. And no, you couldn’t look away as your gaze traveled down his signature denim jacket to the exposed tanned skin of his arms, the muscle tone enough to make your eyes widen. You certainly didn’t want to look away from his hands over his knee as a flash of heat filled your core at the thought of his hands encasing your own knee.

Benny’s eyes flashed back up to meet yours. “You’re incredible.”

You nearly melted at his words, face heating up and you had to break his intense eye contact.

He stood back to his full height. “If it tastes half as good as it looks, I think I might be in trouble.”

There he goes again with those damn double innuendos. You started to smile but then you remembered you were still mad at him, that you weren’t supposed to be happy to see him or to hear his flirty voice. “You already are in trouble, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Benny grinned sheepishly. “I still gotta do somethin’ about that, don’t I?”

You raised your brow at him as you crossed your arms trying to look more confident than you felt. “You don’t have to do anything, Benny. It’s a free country.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “But it’s what you want me to do, right? Apologize to ‘em?”

“No, he . . . wouldn’t like that,” you admitted, “I don’t think that’d be a very good idea to involve him anymore.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “Then I guess I’ll just have to win you over again.”

“Who said you won me over a first time?” You challenged, standing up a little straighter.

Benny just grinned, a shit-eating grin that you weren’t sure if you wanted to smack or kiss off his face. You watched as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. He slipped out a five dollar bill between two of his dexterous fingers and dropped it into your donations jar.

“See ya around, kid,” he said with a wink before turning and leaving you standing there wide-eyed and fighting a smile.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters @pao-prazz @thedreamingfish99 @mrsalwayswrite

[moosesarecute]

We named someone else after you

My second fanfic. Sort of a continuation of the last one, but not really. Hope you like it

Contains topics of fertility issues

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“He then tried to fly and catch them,” Rhys told you with the biggest smile on this face. “He just gets cuter and cuter.”

He was explaining everything you missed from the Starfall celebration.

You were seated at your usual spot in the usual cafe for your lunch. Something you two had tried to do every week after you got free from Under the Mountain. It was a time for you to be normal siblings, not the high lord and his spy sister.

“We’re quite sad you two missed it,” your brother said with a glimmer in his eyes. “What is it you do every Starfall anyway?”

Ever since your first year together as mated the two of you had spent the earlier hours of Starfall recreating your first date. A picnic up at the mountains eating food made with your mother’s recipes. Since Azriel had been on a mission until the day of Starfall, you decided to spend the evening of Starfall together instead.

You huffed. “We’ve been doing it over 400 times, if you think we’ll start telling you about it now, you’re terribly mistaken.”

“But Feyre knows! It’s unfair that I don’t.”

It’s true. You had told Feyre a lot about you and Az’s mating bond when she spent some days at the cabin trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her mating bond to your brother. She asked questions, you answered, as long as she never told anyone about it.

Rhys then shifted in his chair and you knew what was coming.

“About what Mor said,” he started.

On Starfall, Mor had dressed you in a beautiful blue, backless gown with slits on both sides. You had asked her about the color that looked suspiciously similar to the colors of your mates siphons, but the female only answered that it was “a total accident”.

The dress was beautiful, but extremely different from what you usually would wear.

When you went down to the rest of your family Cassian had basically yelled when he asked: “who are you trying to impress? Last time I checked your going on to your 475th year as a mated female.”

You of course snapped back asking if he had become too old to see the difference between your and Mor’s clothing style.

Rhys, with a comforting hand on your shoulder, asked Mor why she dressed you. “I want to be an aunt again.” your friend answered with a smile. You had tensed, but luckily for you, your mate had come and saved you from the conversation.

“It’s nothing,” you told Rhys.

“Bullshit, I know you. I felt you get tense,” your brother said and you knew there was no way for you to get away from the conversation. “You don’t want kids?” he said that the same time you started speaking.

“I can’t-“ you stopped. “Wait what?”

“I just wanted you to know that if you don’t want kids, I’m sure Mor would understand. You should just tell her and she shouldn’t bother you about it again. I’m sure you two know that.”

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say. Of course you wanted kids. You had always wanted to have a few young, winged children to run after. And you have loved being an aunt for Nyx, making you even surer that you wanted to be a mother.

“It’s not that we don’t want kids,” you hesitated.

Lucky for you, your brother knew you better than anyone else, except for Azriel of course. He soon realized what you meant.

“You’re sure?” He just asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I mean, we have been trying, but never succeeded,” you said looking down at your hands, trying not to cry.

Rhys let out a breath. “I’m so sorry, y/n/n. I didn’t know.”

You let out a small laugh. Of course he didn’t know. You and your mate were spies for cauldron’s sake! If you didn’t want anyone to know, no one would know.

“How long have you been trying?”

You looked up and met his worried eyes. He grabbed your hands and was stroking his thumb over yours.

“If you don’t count during Amarantha, neither one of us has taken the potion since our 100th year anniversary.”

315 years.

“Wow,” was all Rhys managed to say. His eyes staring directly into yours.

You removed your hands from his.

“Did Cassian manage to remove the wine stain from the carpet?”

“No, and Feyre is pissed,” Rhys answered, understanding your attempt to change the topic.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“You never mentioned you would be feeling this bad,” you mate said, holding your hair and stroking your back as you threw up once again.

“I told you it would be like my cycle just lasted four times longer,” you told him back. Your voice groggy.

You were trying a new fertility treatment. You had tried different ones before, but so far nothing worked. This one was particularly bad. After your cycle, you would spend three weeks taking daily potions. The potions didn’t taste too bad, but you would spend the following hours dizzy and nauseous with an aching pain in both your head and stomach.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” your mate continued. “Your sure you want to keep doing this?”

You had now curled onto his lap. His arms were around your waist and his shadows tried to cool you down.

“I want to give you children,” you just answered, curling deeper into your mate. His comforting smell lowering your symptoms a little and making you tired. “And I want to be a mother.”

“Then I’ll help you through this, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okey?”

You nodded, starting to fall asleep.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It’s been another year after your treatment and you had lost all hope.

Azriel didn’t blame you, he would never, but you felt awful for not being able to give him and yourself children. But eventually, you started to feel content in your life without mini you’s. You were the best aunt and uncle to Nyx and Cassian and Nesta’s small babe.

This particular day, you had taken Nyx to get ice cream. Your mate had just days before, left for a month long mission at the continent. You had chosen to stay back home in Velaris to help your brother and Feyre dealing with a particularly busy period.

You had just sat down, exhausted, in Rhys office when you felt sick.

“He loves me! You just bribe him with some ice cream and suddenly you become his favorite! If I knew that, I would have done that all a-“

You had to throw up. You stood up and ran to the closest bathroom, Rhys not far behind.

“What’s going…” you threw up, “…on?” Your brother asked holding your hair away from your face.

“Probably just some bad ice cream,” you said.

“So you haven’t been sick before this?” He asked.

“Of course not, I think I would have-“ you started. But then you remembered that you also threw up after eating breakfast yesterday…and the day before that, and also the day before that. And when you first thought about it, you realized your back pain also had been a little worse than usual these days. “I guess I have been sick the last couple of days, but I’m sure it will pass.”

Rhys looked at you with big eyes. He then took three big breaths through his nose, smelling. He then smiled his biggest smile, shook his head and laughed a little. His actions confused you.

“I think you should go to Madja, sweetie,” Rhys said and basically pushed you towards the exit of his house. “And I’ll get Azriel home.”

“What? Why?”

“You can be quite daft sometimes, you know.”

You started to get annoyed, but then you realized it. The throwing up, the low energy, your brother’s smelling. Your violet eyes grew wide.

“Holy shit,” was all you were able to say. Rhys continued laughing.

You walked into Madja’s clinic and she immediately met you at the door to her office.

“Come here, love. Your brother said you were coming.”

With a comforting hand on your back, Madja guided you into the room. Madja had been with you every step of your fertility journey, so you were quite happy she was there for you.

You laid down and Madja started looking and using her powers on your stomach. She tried to stay professional, but a huge smile soon grew on her face.

“You are indeed pregnant, love. A healthy, winged babe. You’re at about eight weeks.”

You were overcome with joy and soon both you and Madja were crying tears of happiness.

You were still in shock when you walked through the doors of your home. In your hand you held a bag with a small newborn onesie in it. You had never been good at surprises, but a onesie was a good start.

You turn around when you heard the door to you cottage open in a rush. Before you could react, your mate’s shadows were swirling around you. Soon your mate’s hands were on your shoulders and his worried eyes met yours.

“You’re okay? Rhys said you threw up and just asked me to come home as fast as possible. Please say you’re okay.”

You immediately forgot all your plans about surprising Azriel and just blurted it out.

“I’m pregnant.”

You’re never going to forget the joy on your mate’s face. He was glowing and so were you.

“You’re not joking, right?” He asked and you let out a laugh while you shook your head.

You then picked up the bag that you had dropped on the floor and took out the onesie.

“A healthy, winged babe at eight weeks,” you whispered and started to cry again.

“You’re incredible,” Azriel answered with a tear running down his cheek.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Even though Rhys already knew, you wanted to wait a little longer before you told the rest of your family. You were quite sure they already knew, because of how protective Azriel, but also Rhys had been ever since founding out.

You were now 15 weeks along and started to become more and more difficult to hide your pregnancy. To your dismay you also still threw up multiple times a day and Madja was seriously considering putting you on bed rest.

You decided now would be a good time to tell everyone. All of you were at family dinner and you had just finished dinner.

“Now?” You asked your mate in his mind.

“Now,” he answered.

You waited until no one was speaking before you started.

“We have something we wanted to tell you,” you started to speak, taking your mate’s hand in yours. “I’m four months pregnant.”

Everyone was gaping at you.

“Gods! We thought you were dying or something!” Mor exclaimed. “We’ve never seen Azriel and Rhys that protective of you before!”

Before you could answer her, Cassian had pulled you out of your chair and into a bone crushing hug.

“Careful, Cass,” your mate hissed at his brother.

But it was too late, Cassian’s quick movements made you nauseous and you were rushing to the closest bathroom to throw up. Azriel of course followed you.

When you came back to the room you were surrounded by Feyre, Nesta and Mor. You asked: “you thought I was dying?”

“We had started to realize that you perhaps could not have children, so when you suddenly became distant and Az and Rhys looked so worried and distracted, we immediately thought the worst,” Mor explained. “But we’re soooooo happy!”

“Your child will be so cute!” Feyre said.

“And so close in age to our babe!” Nesta said smiling.

After a while, Cassian slowly moved towards you wearing an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, little one. I’m just so happy you’re finally going to be parents.”

“It’s okay, Cass. You’re forgiven, by me at least.” You gazed towards your mate that still looked very displeased with Cassian.

You walked over to your love and said “our child has the best family” while your hand rested on your stomach.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The birth had been hard. You were in labor for over 20 hours before you could start to push. You weren’t happy about it, and you grew more irritated by the hour. No less than three times had you kicked your mate out of the delivery room for breathing too loud, stroking your hair too much and asking if you needed something to drink.

But eventually you held your baby boy in your arms. And Azriel held you in his arms.

The moment of peace and happiness only lasted about five minutes, before you started to get worse and worse contractions once more.

You remember feeling scared, annoyed and frustrated when you heard Madja mutter the words “there is another one” to your mate.

Your second babe, a girl, was a lot smaller than her brother, but she also had wings.

“I don’t know how we didn’t see her! She’s a sneaky one.”

With two babes in your mate’s arms and a heart fuller of love than ever before, you finally got some rest.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

After spending two days recovering from the birth, you were finally ready to introduce your babes to your family.

Everyone was in the living room of the River House waiting for you.

You walked in first, carrying your son.

Your family muttered how cute and how beautiful wings your babe had, but your eyes were set on only your brother.

You slowly sat down beside him on the couch and carefully let your son into his arms.

Rhys and Feyre both looked in awe at the boy that even at two days old looked like a copy of his father.

“I want you to meet Rhyland,” you said with a smile. Doing your best not to cry.

However, the second your brother’s wide and teary eyes met yours, you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

No one spoke for a while. Everyone was just enjoying seeing and holding their new family member.

As Cassian handed your son back to you, he said “I can’t believe you named him after Rhys and not me.”

The comment was obviously meant as a joke, but you had hoped he would say something like that. “You can come in now,” you told your mate through his mind.

“That’s because we named someone else after you.”

The door opened and in walked your amazing mate with your tiny daughter in his arms.

“We also wanted you to meet Cassandra,” Azriel said as he showed your daughter to Cassian, not quite ready to let go of her.

“How could you not tell us you were having twins,” Nesta gaped at you.

“We didn’t know,” you simply replied.

When you got home later that evening, Azriel carried both your sleeping babes and put them in their cribs.

“You’re an amazing father,” you told him. “It makes me love you even more, if that’s possible.”

He gave you a small kiss, before he picked you up and carried you to your bed as well.

“I can’t wait to raise them with you,” he said. “My amazing, incredible and beautiful mate.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Broken Mind | Josh Washington x Reader

......

Another day, another Until Dawn rewrite by yours truly <3

I've got Rami Malek on the brain again so I decided to revise this old 2016 fic I wrote about Josh being accompanied by Reader in the shed (after his prank reveal). Changed a few things around and added stuff from the prologue, but all in all the plot's the same (except they're together)

Anyways enjoy!

......

"Hey, [y/n]. Got a special delivery for you."

Hearing the quiet giggles of the Washington sisters, you looked up from your phone and smiled upon seeing your boyfriend being held up by the two of them.

He looked plastered as hell and half-asleep, but his eyes were slightly open. The moment they landed on you, lopsided grin spread across his lips.

"[Y/n]...baby...?"

"Yes. It's me, Josh." With a chuckle, you put down your phone and assisted the girls in helping him lay on the sofa. You decided to let him rest on top of you, seeing as he already had his arms wrapped around your torso. "Jeez, so clingy, huh? How much did you drink?"

"Mhm...I forgot.." His words were slurred.

"Of course you did." Putting your arms around him, you lightly scratched at his scalp with your fingertips, hearing his hums of content as he looked to his sisters.

While Hannah left, Beth smiled back and took a picture of him being all cuddly with you, reminding herself to send to you later. After that, she finally left you both alone.

"They take good care of you."

"Yeah..they're..the best." Josh mumbled tiredly into your chest, hugging you tighter. "But 'm glad you're here...thank you for being by my side. I love you sooooooooooo much."

"Of course, Joshie. I love you, too." You chuckled, holding him close until he dozed off again, before you ended up falling asleep yourself, enveloped by the warmth of the cabin fire and the one you loved most.

He probably won't remember much of this in the morning, but that was fine.

For once, everything felt right in the world.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"[Y/n], honey? Baby? Sweetheart?"

Blinking, you returned to the cold and cruel present, looking to the man tied to the post.

"Yes, Josh?" You sighed tiredly, wiping the blood from the corner of your lip.

"I'm pretty cold. How 'bout we loosen these restraints a little and-?"

"I'm sorry, but...I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"What? I....I can't believe it. You would let those jerks do this to me?!! Your boyfriend? After all I've done for you?!!" Angrily, Josh tugged at his restraints, gnashing his teeth at you like some animal. "I feel hurt. Who does this to someone they love?!"

"First of all, I didn't tie you up. And second...you're not the only one who's gotten hurt tonight."

"If anyone deserves to feel hurt, it should be me! After what they did to my sisters..they had it coming."

As much as you wanted to snap at him for acting this way, you knew that he wasn't well, and getting angry right back wasn't going to make anything better.

Instead, you opted to look outside the shed, observing the snowfall while trying to ignore the sounds of him whining and struggling with the ropes.

Such sights used to calm your nerves, but now...it was nothing more than a grim reminder of how long and unforgiving this night has been, and how there's still a few hours until sunlight and rescue arrived.

How did you get here?

Well, it was supposed to be a reunion between friends.

You and Josh were still together after the horrible tragedy that befell his sisters exactly one year prior, and you were with him through the long days he spent trying to isolate himself, and the difficult nights he spent wishing he didn't wake up at all.

You stayed with him no matter what.

No matter how many times he tried pushing you away...you always stayed. And while he didn't express it as much as he wanted to, he appreciated it.

That's the only reason why he didn't subject you to the "prank" he had laid out for the rest of the group.

You knew his passion for film projects, having helped him with some small YouTube ones yourself. You knew that this year, he wanted to do something to "really bring the gang back together", and you let him be when he insisted on working alone.

God, why didn't you press him on what exactly this prank entailed?

Why didn't you pick up the signs that he was off his meds?

What he enacted was horrific beyond measure--a prank that you didn't even think he was capable of carrying out.

One that seemed so real that you were almost convinced that you lost him to a murderer.

When Chris came to you sobbing in remorse over how the "Psycho" tricked him into killing your boyfriend, you didn't know what to feel. You wanted to see the body to confirm it, but given his and Ashley's reactions..it wasn't worth scarring your eyes or mind over.

It left you unbelievably sad and numb, although you were left confused when through his blubbering, he admitted that the saw blade was rigged to kill Josh despite choosing to save him.

That was the first sign that you knew something was off.

You didn't know anybody that held a massive grudge against him to the point of rigging a trap to murder him only.

But only after Josh revealed everything to Chris, Ashley, Sam, Mike, and you....that's when it all made sense.

And you felt betrayed.

You couldn't believe he'd orchestrate this whole scheme behind your back.

How could you have been so naive and trusting?

You felt like you should have known what he was up to. The others gave you suspicious looks and even Mike wondered for a moment if you were an accomplice...but you weren't.

That was the truth.

You had no idea.

Now all you felt was lingering guilt and festering anger that this was Josh's twisted idea of "revenge" against the people who didn't even kill his sisters. Against people like Chris who didn't even know what happened until he woke up.

And in a way, you felt like it was against you for not waking him up in time to stop the prank that led to Hannah and Beth running out of the cabin.

No matter how many times he claimed you had nothing to do with it, you felt like he was punishing you, too.

So now, you, Chris, and Mike have taken him away from the others, to a shed where he couldn't hurt anybody. Apparently Jess was dead, and despite his insistence that he didn't kill her....Mike didn't believe a word he said, having seen her body firsthand in some mining elevator.

Then when he started making lewd comments about Chris and Ashley, both of the men were growing agitated, debating on whether to make him shut up by force or not.

Finally, you intervened before they could decide, offering to watch over him until sunrise. You're the only one who had a small chance to talk some sense into him and make him realize his mistakes.

Mike was reluctant to leave you alone with him, thinking he'll guilt trip you into letting him go, but you convinced him and Chris you'll be fine.

There were some...scary things you've seen out in the woods earlier, and the last thing you wanna do is leave Josh alone with them nearby.

Even after all the shitty things he did, even after faking his own death...you still loved him.

You didn't believe he murdered Jess.

That's not what Josh would do.

"Your sisters wouldn't have wanted this." You quietly said, looking back at the wide-eyed man. "I wish things were different that night. I wish they didn't get humiliated. God, I wish Hannah had talked to me instead. But this...all of this was wrong, Josh. What happened doesn't justify-"

"But it worked, didn't it? Listen, I...I-I didn't want anyone dead." He stammered. "I just wanted to see that same terror on their faces. And I got them good! I got you all!!"

"...did you have to give Ash a black eye, though?"

"Look, she stabbed me with scissors! And it still hurts like a motherfucker."

You just gave him an expression that read "well I would have too if a killer was chasing me", and he seemed to understand...given how his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Baby, 'm sorry..this...was not how our night's supposed to go. But you know what? I'm glad I was the only one laughing! Because NOW THEY KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ON THE OTHER SIDE!!" Tears of anger pricked his eyes as his voice unexpectedly rose.

You whole body tensed, but you stayed calm, knowing he's only lashing out. "Josh, I know they hurt you. And hurting them back might feel good..but you hurt me too by faking your own death and not telling me how far you intended to take this prank."

"..you would've stopped me if I told you." He mumbled.

"Well maybe I should've been more persistent." You huffed. "If I was, we wouldn't be here. We wouldn't have to talk about why Jess died and why you seem to be the prime suspect-"

"I swear to god, it wasn't me! I don't even know where she is!" Josh snapped, before he curled up, like a child in timeout. "Mike..he wouldn't explain the wheres and whens. He just kept hitting me, pushing me..telling me to shut up...but I didn't do it...I swear. Please, please believe me, [y/n]. I'm sorry that you got roped into this. I-It's..the..the last thing I wanted.." His voice softened. "I'm sorry I've been bad..."

Slowly, you could see bits and pieces of the Josh you once knew coming back. His mind wasn't all there, of course, but you've known him forever.

You should be thinking with your brain and not your heart.

But....

You still love him, and believe in second chances.

"Joshua."

He perked up, anticipating the worst as you pulled up a chair to sit in front of him. For you to say his name like that couldn't have been good.

Maybe you were gonna side with all the rest of them and spit on him.

Maybe you were gonna say that you're leaving him alone here, as Dr. Hill had warned would happen.

Maybe you were finally going to tell him what an unforgivable monster he wa-

"I believe you're innocent. You're not one to take a life. No matter what they say." You suddenly spoke, putting a hand to his soot-coated cheek

Almost immediately, his twitching stopped, and he stared straight at you.

It's like you put him in a trance.

"I'm not gonna leave you."

"..e-even though I've been..all messed up?" He asked cautiously. "I-I mean..I haven't been a good boyfriend lately..."

"That hasn't stopped me from being there for you before." You chuckled. "We're gonna work through this. Even if it's just you and I."

"............"

"I believe you when you say you didn't kill her. Do you believe me?"

It took him a few moments to study your expression, seeing the genuine care and warmth in your eyes. Despite all the horrors you've seen tonight, there was still a spark of hope in them.

That was the light he needed.

"...I-I do..I really do." He sniffled, resting his head on your shoulder, grateful that you didn't push him away despite being covered in dirt and fake blood. "'m sorry...I-I don't deserve you."

"Oh, honey..." You put your arms around him, sighing softly as you felt him tremble against you, tears slowly dampening your jacket. At this point, you knew you got him back, and you were so relieved. "We'll figure something out. Just stay with me."

"You don't think I'm a monster..?" He asked through his sobs. "I mean, everyone treated me like one...you've seen them.."

"....I know. Neither of us can change how they feel. But listen, the only monster here is-"

All of the sudden, a shrill inhumane screech echoed from somewhere outside, deep in the woods, interrupting the tender moment between you two.

Josh sat up with a start, his tearful eyes wide and terrified as he looked to you. "Wh-What was that?"

"That's the real monster I was gonna mention. They call it the Wendigo. Hang on." Crouching down, you managed to find a small pocketknife on his toolbelt, using it to cut the ropes binding him. "It's fast. But it's blind as fuck. We need to get out of here."

Nodding, he got up as quickly as he could, having no time to rub his aching wrists as you grabbed his hand.

The shrieks became louder, forcing you two to hide further inside the shed, sticking close to the back wall where the shadows were darkest. "Shit. Don't move a muscle, okay?"

His breath hitched as the wendigo dropped down in front of the entrance, creeping inside the small building to look for prey. But he took your advice and tried staying still.

You could practically hear you own heartbeat as you held your breath, thumping louder and louder as the creature wandered around. Josh watched it scrape its claws along the wall, creating a sound most unpleasant in an attempt to make him flinch.

It then made direct eye contact with you both.

While you managed to keep perfectly still, you could hear Josh's quiet whimpers, indicating he had a much harder time considering how jittery he was earlier.

All you could do was hope and pray it would leave.

Otherwise...both of you were dead.

Just when you thought your boyfriend was going to lose it completely, the distant snapping of a branch caused the wendigo to turn at blinding speed and sprint out of the shed, returning to the surrounding woods.

"Okay...thank christ.." Letting his hand go, you took a breather, only to see that he was still standing rigid. His eyes showed nothing but pure terror, as he began mumbling something like "was it real" under his breath.

"Josh? Baby?" You shook his shoulders a bit, and he blinked several times, coming back to reality. Relief immediately crossed his face as he realized you were still here. "It's okay. It's gone."

"Tha....That thing w-was real?"

"Yes. I know how to outsmart it. But we can't stay here. We'll be safer at the lodge with the others. We just gotta keep our heads down until then."

"But..what about the-?"

"Don't worry about them. Let's worry about getting out of here, alright?"

Wordlessly, Josh nodded, practically clinging to your arm as you both headed outside and down the snowy trail. He kept mumbling incoherent things, reassuring himself that he was safe with you.

Obviously, he seemed pretty shellshocked, considering the monster he just encountered was real and not a product of his imagination.

He didn't know whether that was better or worse.

Either way, you allowed him to hold onto you, knowing he needed someone--anyone--to lean on right now. And fortunately you were exactly the person he needed.

The only one who could help him come back to his senses.

You swore to never abandon him, and you intend to keep that promise even after all that happened tonight.

You still loved him, and he loved you.

That hasn't changed.

[wibben]

Occupational Hazards

Friends Nanami and Higuruma go on a duo mission together... and fall victim to some unexpected effects.

↳ pairing: hiromi higuruma x kento nanami

↳ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bottom!higuruma, top!nanami, sexual tension, sex pollen, forced proximity, friends to enemies to lovers, rough anal sex, fighting, cum is lube, both a bit OOC but we can blame the pollen, generally feral behavior

↳ wc: 13,675

↳ notes: nanami art by @ hikonom on twitter, higuruma art by @ saksak_kazz on twitter. i hope you enjoy <3

“Ah, good, you’re here too!” Higuruma greeted amiably, sauntering into the meeting room with steaming coffee in hand, the kind of shitty, bitter stuff the staff room machine spit out. But at least it woke him up, so maybe that was by design. Sleepy sorcerers were more often than not dead ones. Sinking into the cushioned couch with an early morning groan, arm draped lazily across the backrest, he sighed into the steam.

He tapped, tapped, tapped his paper cup with dancing fingers. “Actually… any idea why we’re here?”

Smack!

Nanami dropped a manila folder onto the table between them with a sharp flick, his expression tight with irritation. “This.” He muttered, the frustration clear in his voice, offering no further explanation.

Higuruma raised a sloping brow and lifted his coffee to his lips, peering pityingly over the warped plastic lid. He is not as bothered by this intrusion to the beginning of his weekend, years spent tethered to work had numbed him to the inconvenience.

Unlike Nanami, who needed it pried away and leaves it with claw marks, spitting smoke like a raging dragon, he is not as jealously possessive of his freetime. Higuruma had long since learned to surrender it with little more than a resigned sigh and a wave in the rearview mirror.

Higuruma bent forward, placing his coffee on the table and knuckled it slowly across to Nanami, the way one might endear oneself to a stray animal. He needed it more, Higuruma thought.

The silence in the room turned meditative, broken by a deep grounding breath from the other man as he watched his plans of baking, and reading, and relaxing and no responsibility turn to dust. Deep breath in… he could bake next weekend and perhaps treat himself to a new book,  luck permitting maybe he would even start it… and breathe out. It gave Nanami a moment to cool, to steady himself before—

Gojo burst into the room, all gale-force energy and unfiltered exuberance, with a complete disregard for any semblance of professionalism and ignorant of the air of resentment stewing from the rigid blonde-turned-gargoyle sitting in the chair across from him.

“Great, you’re both here!” Gojo’s voice was far too chipper for the hour. “Perfect timing. I’ve got a fun little job for you two.”

Nanami looked up, unimpressed, maybe a little murderous. “Are you well aware that it’s a Friday afternoon? Which means that tomorrow is Saturday , which is the weekend and I absolutely will not—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Gojo flapped a dismissive hand as he flopped into the chair opposite them, leaning back with an air of nonchalance that had a vein pulsing in Nanami’s temple. Higuruma watched on with warring amusement and pity, both hidden surreptitiously behind steepled fingers where he kissed his teeth, resisting the overtaking urge to laugh.

“Anyway, there’s this small issue out in the middle of nowhere. Some cursed incidents, blah blah blah, you know the drill. Strange happenings, couples murdering each other nearby— you get the picture, right? Easy peasy. Easy enough to send one of the students really, they could do it in their sleep! I really can’t stress enough how easy it’s gonna be.”

Higuruma raised an eyebrow, finally speaking. “You were supposed to handle this one, weren’t you?”

“Yes, technically,” Gojo grinned, not at all sheepish and wholly unapologetic. “But there’s this festival I’ve been dying to check out. They’ve got all sorts of sweets—mochi, taiyaki, ice cream, you name it! I mean, why waste my time on some low-grade curse when my time is better spent there?”

Nanami’s frown deepened, if that were possible. “This is below our paygrade, then.”

“Exactly! Very astute, Nanamin!” Gojo cheered, completely missing—or more likely ignoring —Nanami’s tone. “Which is why you two are perfect for the job. You can handle it in no time and be back before the weekend’s over. Unless you’d rather join me at the festival? But fair warning, you’ll have to keep up with me while I sample everything. ”

He leaned forward, blinding smile growing wider as if offering the deal of a lifetime complete with spread open palms. But to both Nanami and Higuruma who glanced at each other, reading, it looked much closer to a threat. “So, what do you say? Curse or confections?”

Nanami didn’t even hesitate. “Tell Ijichi to prepare the car.”

Gojo sighed dramatically, as if truly disappointed they weren’t taking him up on his generous offer. “You two are no fun. But alright! You’ll be staying up there, got a place all set up for you. Should be a walk in the park—” he clapped his hands, standing and swaying forward—then back—on mile-long legs.

“Anything else we should know?” Higuruma asked, leaning back in his seat with clinical consideration. Details, details, details —

Gojo shrugged, already halfway out the door with a flippant wave over his shoulder. “Nothing you can’t handle. Just try not to kill each other before the curse does, yeah? Oh, and if you change your mind—”

“We won’t,” Nanami cut him off, already gathering his things.

Higuruma blinked, leaning forward now. Where were the details?

Gojo’s laugh echoed down the hallway as he disappeared, leaving the two men to contemplate the unfortunate turn their day had taken. Higuruma sighed. “He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”

Nanami simply scowled. “Inconsiderate… incorrigible… no work ethic— ” he muttered, brushing his hands over a wrinkleless suit as he stood. “Let’s get this over with.”

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Sleek black wheels hummed along winding woodland backroads, the thick forest outside morphed into a smudgy, dark green blur. Ijichi was laser-focused on the drive, his hands gripping the wheel with his usual sweaty-palmed intensity.

Higuruma gazed out the window and traced the endless stretch of trees with his eyes until they swam with dizzy shapes. He watched until his head felt uncomfortably light, swooping his attention down to his stationary lap for a reprieve. This place was really out there… strange location for a curse.  

“You know,” Higuruma's voice slipped through the quiet, “it could be worse.” He leaned back, letting the car seat handle him as he let out a slow breath. “At least this should be simple. We like simple.”

Beside him, Nanami was the picture of calm, a book delicately cradled in one long-fingered hand. He’d had enough time to calm down, to temper his frustration with resignation; it couldn’t be helped… and this was somehow still better than the alternative of a day stuck with Gojo.

He gave a small, noncommittal hum, flipping a page. He’d long ago trained himself out of car sickness, these drives now offering a rare slice of interim peace—a chance to slowly make dents in his ever-growing reading list. 

“True,” he murmured, eyes never leaving the lines of text. “And I suppose the company could be worse, hm?”

Higuruma turned his head and the beginning of a smile swept over his mouth. “Oh, so much worse,” he agreed, letting his temple knock against the cool glass of the window. “We’ve been through enough to appreciate these quiet ones. In and out.”

Nanami’s eyes remained trained on his book, but there was the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“In and out,” he repeated.

“Maybe we can unwind after this. Grab a drink, like last time.” Nanami's offer slipped out off-hand as he flipped the page, more a passing thought than a concrete plan. If his weekend was going to be hijacked, he might as well make the most of it. And really, drinking with the person he'd be spending it with anyway didn’t seem like the worst idea. Higuruma was good company, always had been.

Higuruma’s grin was immediate, approval reflected briefly in the window’s glass. “I like the way you think!”

As the forest thickened and the road ahead narrowed, their destination creeping closer, there was no tension, no unease. Nanami was not so foolish to ever feel safe on the job, but with Higuruma, he felt something suspiciously close to it.

It was just a simple in-and-out mission—nothing they hadn’t dealt with before.

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The sun dipped low on the horizon by the time they arrived, splashing the sky with dramatic strokes of orange and pink that belonged more in an ornately framed and hung painting rather than on the front lines of the job.

As Ijichi brought the car to a crunchy halt on the gravel drive, the sound felt louder than it should have—like the world itself held its breath the same as the three men wrapped in the security of their vehicle. Three heads cranked towards windows and their cheeks squished against fogged glass as they took in their lodgings with the sort of veneration of stumbling upon the carcass of a dead god.

This place felt lost.

Old and rotted wood, planks speared from the sides like splintering teeth, green with creeping lichen and constricting vines that curled around every corner and nook and cranny like veins; pumping life into that which is lifeless, keeping alive that which should’ve long been dead.

Nanami was the first out after a brief moment's hesitation, smoothing his hands down his front and looking prepared to walk into a boardroom rather than the mouth of potential doom. It served to swipe away the sudden sweat on his palms.

The cabin that stood before them looked deceptively quaint, even in its disrepair, like something he’d find on a postcard if he ignored the way it crouched amidst the trees like it was prepared to pounce on them. He also ignored the way it made him want to twist his neck in submission, the instinct to drop to his knees in dogeza and scrape his forehead against the gravel before the steps.

Silence blanketed thick, the kind that makes you strain your ears for something—anything—to break it. But there was nothing. No birdsong, no chirping crickets, no croaking frogs or snapping branches of unseen wildlife. Too quiet, even for somewhere this remote. Like this space existed in its own bubble.

His face remained neutral as he swept the area, taking in the unsettling stillness with a mild frown. He couldn’t sense anything—no curse, no cursed energy, none of the obvious residuals Gojo mentioned.

Quirky little cabin, quirky little mission—Nanami would’ve preferred to be at home with a quirky glass of whiskey instead… not here swallowing nerves like a knock-kneed boy.

Higuruma stepped up beside Nanami, tracing the lines of the cabin’s exterior. It was a shithole. He didn’t see the dissonant charm in it that Nanami did, however faint. It was falling apart, the roof looked a good wind away from caving, and somehow it looked designed that way, because surely it would’ve fallen by now if it was ruined by time.

Something about it felt too perfect, too staged, like it was posing for a picture it knew would be taken—just waiting for someone to notice the way the door seemed to yawn like a hungry mouth, welcoming them to step inside its belly.

He allowed himself a moment of frankly healthy mortal terror before he shook it off.

They were professionals, after all. There was no room for jitters before they’d even crossed the threshold. Especially not because of a house.

Ijichi, meanwhile, looked like he might bolt if given half a chance. His hand shook a little as he passed over their overnight carry ons, eyes darting around like he expected the trees to start whispering or something equally unnerving. Not somewhere he wanted to be at night.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to pick you up. Call if you need anything sooner,” he said, trying to sound official, though there was an unmistakable thread of relief that unraveled his voice that he at least gets to leave. He was already halfway back into the car as the last words left his mouth, and Higuruma had to check an eyeroll.

They all felt it, which made him feel marginally better… but that couldn’t be a good sign.

With a final nod, Ijichi took off, the crunch of gravel beneath his tires fading into the distance all too quickly as the sun dipped behind the trees.

Nanami took point after a few seconds more of silent calculation, leading the way up the short, gravelly path toward the door. The wooden door creaked as he nudged it open, a slow, ominous drone that echoed the wrapped hilt of his blade in his closing palm, the sound hung in the air as a sword of damocles—the whole scene balanced on the edge of a razor, expectant and waiting for something to tip it over.

The floors beneath their feet groaned, clearly unimpressed with the sudden intrusion. Nanami was certain the whole place would feel just as unsettling as the outside had, but when they stepped fully into the cabin, they both paused. It was… beautiful.

The room basked in golden light, courtesy of old-fashioned lamps that dotted the space with a gentle, inviting glow. Each piece of furniture advertised rustic charm, worn edges and sturdy frames that practically begged to be sat on. The walls, too, adorned with an array of knickknacks and decorations—each item meticulously arranged.

It was the kind of obviously lived-in space that could lull you into a sense of comfort if you weren’t careful, the kind of place where you could almost forget about the string of suspicious mariticides that had brought them here in the first place.

It was strange, but it was also nice. And in their line of work, nice was a luxury.

Higuruma twisted around Nanami’s back, breathing out a small surprised huh! as he took in the unexpectedly charming interior.

“Not bad,” he remarked, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he set his bag down on the worn wooden floor. His fingers slowly uncurled from his gavel, knuckles no longer white. “Looks like someone put some thought into the inside, at least.”

“Seems that way,” Nanami agreed, and he was already moving toward the heavy wooden table at the center of the room. He rummaged through his bag—though there wasn’t much to unpack, given the brevity of their planned stay.

Meanwhile, Higuruma allowed himself a moment to wander, not quite settled and seeking to stake out each and every corner of their accommodations, taking in the small details that made the place feel oddly inviting, idly picking up decorations from shelves with an appraising eye—

—and behind them, the door slowly hushed shut, the lock slipping into place with a soft click. Neither man noticed.

Higuruma plucked a ceramic owl from the mantle, his nose wrinkling; not at the decor, which really he found rather charming, but at the streaky, off-yellow trail of dust left in the wake of its removal. He huffed, mentally filing the complaint away.

It wouldn’t do to bring it up to Nanami, not when he was already less than thrilled about being out here at all.

He swiped a finger through the dust, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger, eyes narrowing in distaste. Filthy.

His nose twitched, and before he could stop it, a great inhale heralded the inevitable. Higuruma sneezed, the force of it sending up a poof of air that stirred the greater nest of dust bunnies, erupting the mantle into a cloud of yellow powder.

Coughing and cursing, Higuruma hastily set the owl back down and waved a hand in front of his face, stumbling back in a desperate attempt to escape the dusty assault.

Nanami only snorted, amused, offering a polite albeit unconcerned “bless you” over his shoulder. He only looked up when Higuruma continued to cough, bent at the waist and hands planted firmly on cocked knees.

“Are you alright?” He asked, already side-stepping the table to get to him.

“No,” Higuruma spat, straightening with watery eyes and a yellow dusted face. Nanami tried not to laugh at his misfortune.

“Gojo is a filthy, good for nothing liar,” he continued, and at that Nanami could only hum in sympathetic agreement.

“Got a place set up for us my ass, it’s not even clean—what if I had a dust allergy, huh? I could’ve died, right then and there!”

Nanami turned to the sink, wetting a sheet of paper towel and returning to Higuruma with a frown, handing it over. “Well it’s a good thing you don’t, then.”

“But if I did—”

“You don’t.”

Higuruma growled, mulish, but accepted the towel and scrubbed it over his face. Nanami, in an effort to be helpful, patted down Higuruma’s shoulders. But the dust was stubborn, it clung to his hands like childrens chalk, and it was already coating his own suit from how the dust was roused into the air, catching sunbeams as it swirled and resettled.

Beige was a forgiving color, and he found himself grateful for his preference of the shade over Higuruma’s black suits. Too easy to ruin. Impractical, really.

The more he cleaned, the more Higuruma’s initial anger waned, though a faint prickle remained—a persistent itch beneath his skin, in his nose, his hair, and even his mouth. It made him feel twitchy, uncomfortable, but nothing a hot shower couldn’t fix. He sighed, shaking off the lingering disgust with a few quick flaps of his hands.

“What do you think the odds are that we could get takeout delivered all the way out here? I’m starving.”

Nanami paused in his idle, and admittedly futile, attempts to brush the dust from Higuruma’s suit and sighed. “I wouldn’t count on it. No delivery driver would venture this deep into the woods for us. And if they did, by the time the food arrived, it would be cold and hardly worth the effort.”

“Hm.” Higuruma’s responding grunt was vaguely agreeable. Eyes slipped a longing look at the cabin’s surprisingly well-equipped kitchen. “Guess we’re on our own. I can whip up something decent.”

Nanami raised an eyebrow. “... Since when do you cook?”

“Hey,” Higuruma retorted, hands on his hips with offense and leaving yellow smudgy prints in the fabric. “I’m more than capable in the kitchen, thank you.”

Nanami couldn’t suppress a small smile at that. “I enjoy cooking, but if you insist.”

“Oh, I do,” Higuruma declared with exaggerated seriousness, though the competitively playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. “Just sit back and relax. Or sweep up some dust if you really need to be helpful. Now, shoo—out of my kitchen—”

Nanami laughed, allowing himself to be fluttered and pushed out of the room, shuffling along and casting a quietly fond look over his shoulder.

“Please refrain from setting off smoke alarms.”

Higuruma rolled his eyes, already moving back towards the kitchen. “Just watch. You’ll be begging me to cook more often after this.”

Higuruma started by rifling through the fridge, the pantry, and the cabinets above the sink; rattling glass jars and shuffling cardboard boxes. Gojo wasn't lying about this part at least: the kitchen was set up for them. Fully stocked, and Higuruma reckoned he might actually be able to make something of it. He grinned, feeling pretty confident about his odds. “Beef curry?”

“...mmm.”

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The cabin was all warm, sappy hues as the sun sank fully behind the trees, painting shadows that reminded Nanami of hot cocoa and knitted blankets, the kind of coziness that comes with soft lamps and fairy lights strung along high beamed ceilings. Outside, the dark now released from the creeping treeline pressed inky hands against the windows.

Nanami leaned back in his chair, eyeing the remnants of his meal on the plate with a neutral stare.

There was something off about it.

His desire not to discourage Hiromi’s good intentions naively outweighed his logic though, because he still ate it all, and maybe he would regret that decision later. It wasn’t bad , not even close—there was no taste of rot or spoil, but something that made his mouth tingle and heart thud unlike any curry seasoning he’d ever had.

“Not bad,” he said, setting his fork down with a measured nod. “Your choice in spices was a bit odd… but not bad at all.”

Higuruma felt awful.

He’d stomached it well, with pinched temples he quietly nursed the headache that crept up during the meal like a bad aftertaste, but stiffened ramrod straight at Nanami’s comment.

His brain thudded, thudded, thudded , each beat a jagged staccato as the words sank in, scraping like sandpaper against his nerves. “Not bad?” he echoed, biting through the cozy atmosphere with a bare-tooth grimace. “What do you mean not bad? It was delicious.”

Nanami blinked, surprised by the sudden sharpness and delicately ran a napkin over his mouth. He coughed awkwardly. “I was just offering feedback. It really wasn’t bad.”

The room suddenly felt warmer—too warm. Nanami dismissed it as the lingering heat from the stove, or maybe the spices from the curry, now irritatingly intense as he felt sweat gathering under his collar like humid, panting breaths against his nape.

Higuruma dug his fingers into his temples again, trying to rub away the tension that settled there like a thick fog. It made him woozy, he felt off balance. “Well, I didn’t ask for feedback,” he snapped, the words tumbling out with more venom than he’d intended. He wasn’t usually one to snap so quickly, but something about Nanami’s mild criticism was needling him tonight like a splinter under his skin.

Nanami’s frown deepened. “There’s no need to get so worked up; I apologize for my comment—”

“Worked up?” Higuruma’s dark eyes sparked like lit kindling with a sudden flash of anger. He shoved his chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the wooden floor. “You’re the one who started nitpicking. If your standards are so damn high, maybe you should’ve cooked!”

The air between them was heavy with ozone, tension slithered in, curling around the edges of their fraying tempers like blotting vines feasting on their discomfort. The silence that followed was heavy, anticipatory, and those vines grew roots and then fingers, curling into Nanami’s limbs and tightening the muscles on his face into a silent glare.

Nanami gathered up the dishes with a little too much force, the plates clattering together in a way that made the small space shrink smaller, the echoes bouncing off the walls and settling in the corners like something dark and brooding. The darkness that licked at the windows oozed its way inside.

Higuruma crossed his arms, feeling his irritation spike when Nanami turned his shoulder, hot and irrational, a screeching tea kettle in very real danger of boiling over completely. Don’t you dare ignore me.

“ Honestly, if your standards are so high, I’m surprised you tolerated it at all. My apologies for displeasing your precious palate.”

Nanami’s hands tightened around the sink basin, his knuckles paling as the metal dug into his skin. Slowly—deliberately—he turned to face Higuruma, meeting his glare head-on. Their eyes snapped together like flint striking steel, cold, unyielding, sparks flying. “Fine. Next time, I’ll cook. That way, we won’t have to worry about your thin skin getting in the way.”

Higuruma’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t answer. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he held his ground, the air between them thickening, charged, shimmering with a tension that hovered like static in the room.

If either of them had been of their right mind, they might have noticed the air almost gleaming—an iridescent shimmer, like the heat rising off the hood of a car on a scorching day, or the sheer coat of yellow that coated nearly every surface, the cutlery, the plates .

Every small movement—an impatient twitch of Nanami’s finger, the brief flare of Higuruma’s nostrils—crackled with a heat that wasn’t entirely their own. Something crept between them, feeding off their frustration, stoking and bolstering the growing fire with every passing second.

Nanami’s glare shifted to the dishes in the sink, smeared plates and bits of rice clinging to the edges. The food had been good—damn good, really—and he hadn’t planned on nitpicking. He’d all but decided not to, but the words grew legs and clawed out of his mouth of their own volition.

Cleaning the dishes was out of the question—his mood was too foul to even consider it.

Higuruma scoffed and turned on his heel, retreating to the living room, his footsteps heavy and banging against the old wooden floorboards. Each footfall landed like the gavel he wields and felt every bit as damning.

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As the night dragged on, the cabin’s cozy charm unraveled at its rotted edges. The soft lights, once warm and inviting, were both too dim to read by and too bright to relax under, casting shadows that twisted nauseatingly on the walls. The couch, which looked so inviting before, might as well have been carved from stone for all the comfort it offered.

And though the house was deceptively spacious, the walls inched closer, closer, closer; tightening the noose around Nanami and Higuruma and forcing them into needless confrontations—over the lights, over which room to claim, over the correct way to handle the fire poker by the chimney.

Higuruma, by this point, had a few creative ideas for its use that had nothing to do with stoking a fire.

Nanami needed distance. A breath. Something to stop the heat crawling up his spine like a fever. He planted himself back at the sink, hands plunging into the soapy water with the kind of force that turned a gentle rinse into an act of war. The clatter of utensils against the porcelain screeched through the small kitchen, each metallic scrape a little too loud, a little too sharp. Water splashed up and soaked into his rolled-up sleeves, each drop that seeped into the fabric felt like a personal insult. He felt positively unmoored.

Every squeak of wet porcelain seemed to mock him, irritation climbing with each stubborn stain he scrubbed that just wouldn’t come out—his sanity hung by gossamer threads.

From the living room, Higuruma’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and loaded with an eye-roll Nanami could picture without even turning. “You don’t have to murder the plates, you know,” Higuruma jeered. “I can hear you all the way in here—that’s how you ruin them.”

Nanami’s grip tightened on the dish, his knuckles blanching white. It was stupid—petty. They never bickered like this, never fell into the brand of mundane sniping reserved for divorcing couples or other miserable types.

He prided himself on keeping calm. Unshakeable. Especially around Higuruma, whose dry wit and effortless ability to slip under his skin kept things lively and interesting. Fun, even.

But tonight? Tonight, everything grated on him. Every word, every sound—the scratch of ceramic, the way Higuruma's voice seemed to curl around the walls and echo back, each bounce sharper than the last. It shredded through the quiet, gnawing at his nerves, leaving them raw and exposed to the stifling air that compressed from every direction like a vacuum.

Nanami thinks he must be sick and Higuruma must be too, because he has just enough clarity to recognize that he doesn’t recognize them at all.

Nanami’s fingers skimmed beneath the sudsy water, brushing against something solid. The unexpected chill of metal met his skin, and his hand stilled as he recognized the shape of the knife buried there. For a moment, it grounded him—quenched the fire licking at his palms, made him feel in control again. He let his fingers curl around the handle, the coolness radiating through his hand and sending a shiver up his spine that felt blessedly soothing.

The blade could make it all stop. Take it. Walk into the living room where Higuruma stands and—

Nanami blinked. The thought dissolved, evaporating as fast as it came back to the void it came from and leaving a sick churn in its wake. He gritted his teeth and dropped the knife back into the sink with a harsh clatter, the sound sharp and final. He wanted to throw it out the window.

Absurd. He was absurd. He’s sick. Surely he must be sick, because he would never think that. Not over something so… nothing.

His thoughts felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else. He wasn’t a beast. He wasn’t a murderer. He’d seen enough bloodshed to know better—he knew better.

The fact that it entered his mind at all almost made him retch.

He wiped his hands on the hanging towel, the rough fabric scraping against his skin and pulling him back from the irrecoverable edge he’d almost stumbled over. Without a word, he turned on his heel, leaving the dishes half-done and the knife abandoned in the sink, as if he could walk away from the sick impulse the kitchen inspired.

The hallway felt longer than it should’ve as he stalked back into the living room, each step heavy, ball-and-chained to his fracturing mind. And there was Higuruma—standing in the small living area, arms crossed, his expression unreadable, half-lit by both lamp and fire and waiting for him.

The shadows carved deep lines into his face, the hooked curve of his nose sharpened by the light, casting him as something almost predatory.

When Nanami stepped into the room, the tension between them snapped taut, a thread wound too tight and ready to break, pulling them closer, reeling them into each other's orbit. It was like standing on the edge of a flame, the heat unbearable and the burn inevitable. They were drawn to each other’s fury, like moths with no choice but to dance in the fire until they turned to ash.

“So rather than be gentler with the dishes, you’re just going to leave them? I suppose you expect me to clean as well as cook?” Higuruma’s voice carved through the room like shattered glass skittering across stone. He didn’t move, didn’t uncross his arms, but his entire stance was a challenge, daring Nanami to step closer, to meet his gaze head-on.

The way his eyes narrowed, locking onto Nanami with stripping intensity sent a fresh wave of anger surging through him, hotter, more vicious.

Nanami froze.

Just keep walking. Ignore him. Keep moving. Bathe and go to bed.

“I’m taking a break,” he said instead, each low word a bullet added to the smoking gun, the calm before a storm that could level mountains. It was a voice that should’ve sent alarms blaring in Higuruma’s mind and made his instincts urge him to back off. It promised reckoning.

If Higuruma weren’t so festered in the pit of his own irrational anger, he might’ve retreated—might’ve backed away from the brewing tempest in Nanami’s eyes.

If he knew that moments ago, Nanami had gripped a knife and entertained thoughts of plunging it deep between his ribs, he might’ve put distance between them.

But if Nanami was sick, Higuruma was sicker. His skin twitched beneath the tight fabric of his dress shirt, shoulders rolling and shuddering in a futile bid to relieve the tension that knotted between them. Sweat slicked his body, glistening in the firelight that painted him in violent hues of orange and red, setting him ablaze from the outside in. He was burning.

His vision dimmed, draining of color until the world was a muted blur—all except for Nanami. Nanami snapped into focus, vivid and pulsing with life, a beacon through the haze of Higuruma’s dilated eyes. He panted, breaths heavy and ragged like a slathering dog, muscles twitching with the need to lunge, to close the distance between them. Restraint frayed at the edges, but all he could think about, all that consumed him, was Nanami. Going to him. Tearing into him.

"Can’t ever—" Higuruma’s voice cracked, struggling to force the words out between teeth clenched so tight he felt a pop in his jaw. "Ask for help, can you?"

A bitter scoff slipped, choked off as his throat seized, the dry walls of his airway sticking together and making his vision swim that much more as he missed another heaving breath. "Always have to be—"

He turned away sharply, a shudder running through him, the effort to keep speaking almost painful; and with it, he hoped to hide his shame at the grossly obvious erection snaking down the seam of his thigh, just as it had been for the past fifteen minutes. "—the lone wolf, thinking you’re so… so independent and fucking cool—"

His breath hissed, a harsh sound that scraped the back of his throat raw down to the bitter copper tang beneath. "So fucking cool—"

Nanami resisted with everything he had, every muscle tensed against the invisible binds that drew him in, demanding he act on impulses that should never see light; should never have been conceived at all.

His fingers twitched at his sides with the urge to act. To do something he’d regret. Wrap them around Higuruma’s throat, maybe, and squeeze until the hate drained out of them both.

He watched as Higuruma began to unravel, each tremor, recognizing the succumbing happening before his eyes as what he felt incubating within himself. It was like staring into a mirror, seeing his own fate playing out in front of him, knowing that it was only a matter of minutes—if he was lucky—before he would break too.

His pulse pounded in his temples, each beat syncing with that silent, relentless pull, dragging him recklessly toward oblivion.

Nanami stalked forward.

Higuruma whirled back around, a sharp animal snap of his neck with teeth bared like a cornered beast. His body jolted upright, spine straightening and meeting Nanami’s advance with a challenge that was all raw instinct—no hesitation, no retreat, only the need to assert dominance.

“What the hell are we really fighting about here? Dishes? Dinner?” Higuruma’s laugh was cold, a bitter thing that didn’t suit him at all. “Or are we dodging the real issue, Nanami? Because I’m begging for an excuse. Give me one, and I swear—” he leaned in as close as he dared, eyelids fluttering at the smell of him even at this distance. “I’ll fight you.”

Nanami didn’t know why they were fighting. Only that they were. And that the scorching compulsion inside him demanded it, devoured him and any dissent whole, certain he would be reduced to ash and hollowed to a bitter husk if he so much as raised a finger against it.

He couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. The need to push this until something snapped was compulsive. The only end was cremation in this hellfire, one or both, and his desperation for it ripped him apart from the inside out.

“This isn’t about dinner,” Nanami growled, his voice thick with hot coals. His chest felt tight, air scorched by the words he could barely spit out. “Or losing my weekend to be here.” His fists clenched, nails biting so deeply into his palms that blood welled in the half moons, but the sting was nothing compared to the flames ravaging his veins. He’s in hell—he must be.

“This is about you.” Nanami spat the fever in his mouth, callous and cruel. His shoulders quivered and betrayed him, frenetic pulse having him swooping down towards Higuruma’s face a little too fast, a little close, nearly eye to eye now before he could reel himself back upright; drunk on the heat of it all.

“About how you are a burden. A constant, incessant, mind-numbing waste that I’d be better off without.” He wanted this. The confrontation and the catharsis that vitriol promised, even if it meant sinking deeper into the hell he was creating.

The space between them nearly evaporated, the air growing so thick they were both choking on it. Nanami could feel Higuruma’s breath ghosting over his skin, gulping for air, his throat bobbing, warm, uneven, alive—a siren call, seductive and dangerous and ruinous.

Break him. Rip, tear, flay—spill blood into the floorboards, let the cellar drink from him.

The thought scorched through Nanami's mind, twisted and raw, and for a moment, neither dared moved, both possessing an instinctive knowing it might provoke the other to pounce. The only sound was their breath, ragged, and the ratcheting pound of the other's heart, both animalistically attuned and tracing bulging arteries up their throats.

Hurt him. The insidious whispers slithered through Higuruma’s mind like smoke, curling around his thoughts, sick with rabid infection. Hit him. You’ve done it before. He despises you. Use the gavel. End it.

Sweat gleamed on Higuruma’s forehead, mirroring the dampness on Nanami’s neck. The air was suffocating, clinging like napalm, thick and oppressive. It was rage—pure, unadulterated rage—but something else too. Something that begged for pain, for release, for an end.

And then Nanami hit the wall.

The impact was savage, brutal. No time to brace. Higuruma slammed him back, the force sending picture frames clattering to the floor. The walls groaned, the very bones of the cabin trembling under the weight of their collision.

Higuruma didn’t hesitate. He was on Nanami in an instant, hands lashing out, cold fingers like steel vices around Nanami’s throat. The pressure was immediate and crushing—but Nanami didn’t flinch. His eyes gored Higuruma with deadly resolve, steel against steel, waiting for the other to break.

Nanami’s eyes narrowed, excitement seeping through his gaze as heat furnaced low in his belly, his breath coming out ragged. Higuruma’s fingers were still wrapped tight around his neck, but Nanami could feel something else—a thrum, a pulse. His cock strained painfully against his slacks, pre-cum already staining the fabric; the matting feel of his hair both enraged and delighted him.

He wasn’t sure when that happened.

He wasn’t sure he cared,

His hand slid up to Higuruma’s wrist, and with the deliberate force of bending iron, began to pry those vice-like fingers from his throat. Higuruma clawed for him, fist shaking with resistance, and every inch of fight only fueled the arousal that snapped sudden through them both like rubber bands.

A cold, metallic chuckle thundered in Nanami’s red throat, mocking with threat. "... Idiot."

He didn't waste another breath—there was no time. With a sharp twist and a powerful surge of his shoulder, Nanami shoved Higuruma back with enough force to send them both crashing into the floorboards.

They thrashed, clawing and bodying into furniture and light fixtures. Higuruma’s knee shot up, slamming into Nanami’s stomach, sending a shockwave of force that knocked the air from his lungs and his cock twitched, pre-cum seeping in thick rivulets down his thigh. Nanami grunted, but the ache only sharpened the edge of his need. Higuruma, too, felt the burn.

In one fluid, desperate motion, Higuruma rolled them over, breaking free from the hold, chest heaving with exertion, straining and throbbing in his pants with every ragged breath. His eyes blazed with fury, but beneath the rage there was something raw and ruinous. His gaze raked over Nanami, lips curled into a snarl, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to rip him apart—and fuck him into the floor. How much he needed to do one or the other or both.

Yellow clouds shaken from surfaces whirlpooled in the humid air. With each breath, Higuruma felt it more acutely—his clothes clung to his skin, and heat laid siege to his body, unbearable, searing. The pollen, the fucking pollen—he could feel it now, twisting his thoughts, his body, and all he wanted was Nanami beneath him, writhing and begging.

Nanami roared and lunged at Higuruma again, throwing him back into the wall with enough force to crack the old oak paneling. The cabin rumbled, books toppled from shelves, and somewhere in another room something glass shattered.

But all Nanami could see was the way Higuruma’s body shuddered at the impact, the way his pupils dilated, his lips parting in a wet gasp—so fucking pretty.

Higuruma choked, the breath knocked from his lungs, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. His vision blurred, but the moment it cleared, he saw Nanami standing over him—panting, chest heaving, cock straining visibly against his pants, fabric stained dark and dripping. The visual sent a shiver through him, his stomach clenching hungrily and own body desperately reciprocating.

Each thrash and bit of fight only compelled the other to fight back harder. A cyclical prey-drive, hammering and hammering in the forge until someone broke into the coals.

In the charged, suffocating space between them, the air thickened, pulsing with a desperate craving that bordered on madness. Nanami’s grip tightened, punishing hands clasped around Higuruma’s shoulder and the fine bones of his neck. His fingers curled with creaking slowness against the soft skin and fabric, teasing the promise of bruises and ripped clothes.

Higuruma scrabbled for purchase against Nanami’s arm, spitting and clawing, nails raking down skin and leaving red lines that did nothing to deter the iron-grip on his neck; like the bite of a flea for all the attention Nanami paid it.

Their faces were inches apart, close enough that Nanami could see the fine particles of dust chalking Higuruma’s flushed skin, could feel the heat radiating off him in molten waves. Everywhere they touched the yellow mist was spread to him too, and where it was spread Nanami burned.

His breath juddered in his throat, billowing against Higuruma’s cheek his nostrils flared bullishly. Cologne, sweat, and dust that smelt oddly floral… pollen. Not dust at all.

It was the pollen. It had to be. But there was no time to think about that, not when every nerve in his body was on fire, every muscle twitching with the need to lay claim and consume, because Nanami is certain, so certain, of only one thing: the hellfire raging in his bones was going to kill him if he doesn’t whet it.

The muscles in Nanami’s back convulsed, rippling beneath his shirt as he bent lower, his breath ghosting over Higuruma’s throat. “You smell so good,” he groaned, voice rough and fractured and barely coherent. Had Higuruma always smelled like this? It was intoxicating and overwhelming and Nanami needed him.

He smelled too good. Too irresistible. Too much.

Nanami groaned and pushed Higuruma harder against the wall, the force of it rattling the entire cabin as if trying to shake loose whatever wild thing had taken hold of them both. But it was lodged too deep, its hooks set and curved too permanently.

His knee shoved between Higuruma’s legs, pressing up—hard—right against the throbbing bulge in Higuruma’s pants. Nanami felt the way it pulsed, wet and leaking, pre-cum staining the crotch of Higuruma’s pants so thickly that he felt it through the layers on his knee. And with the way his hips jerked forward, rutting against Nanami’s leg—he liked it.

Higuruma writhed, his body twisting and turning, but it wasn’t rage anymore. The way Nanami’s breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed and twitched—Higuruma felt it all, and it was driving him insane, breaking him down until all he could think about was the way Nanami had him pinned to the wall, how Nanami’s knee ground into his weeping cock, Nanami, Nanami, Nanami.

The clawing desperation to peel himself away was tossed in favor of frantic tugging, nails catching on rolled sleeves to yank Nanami closer.

Nanami’s world narrowed, everything outside the two of them fading into a tunnel of pulsing, seething hunger. Irreversibly dialed to the slick heat of Higuruma’s body pressed against his, the frantic beat of his pulse beneath Nanami’s hand, the sweat that trickled down Higuruma’s temple. He wanted to taste it, drag his tongue across that feverish skin, feel Higuruma’s pulse in his mouth and swallow it down gluttonously.

He leaned in closer, breath scalding against Higuruma’s ear as he gritted out the words, each one clawing its way from the depths of his chest and leaving the cavity bloody. He was gone—too far gone to reel himself back, yet somehow, impossibly, not quite lost. There was just enough of him left, clinging by a thread, enough to ask—beg, really—and pray that if the answer was no, he could resist just long enough for Higuruma to hit him and knock him blissfully unconscious.

Even if it killed him. Even if he were to self-immolate. It would be better.

“Tell me you feel it too… shit, I—” His voice broke, shivering, “I need you—”

The words barely left his mouth before Higuruma lunged, crashing his mouth against Nanami’s in a collision of lips and teeth. It wasn’t a kiss—it was raw, violent, a clash of urgency and rage. Their teeth clacked, tongues desperate and frantic, and Nanami groaned, low and deep, as he shoved Higuruma harder against the wall, hips grinding forward in a furious effort to fuse them together.

There was no room for dignity or restraint—just the unbearable need to fuck, to tear each other apart until they were satisfied.

Nanami’s breath hitched, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he gripped Higuruma tighter, fingers digging into the muscle beneath his shirt. The fabric tore beneath his grasp, threads snapping, and Nanami relished in the sound of buttons skittering somewhere across the room and lost to corners, the sensation of skin bared to him.

Higuruma’s hands clawed at Nanami’s back, fingers digging into tense and quivering muscles. Every nerve in his body was on fire, skin too sensitive, cock hardened to the point of pain with every desperate twitch of his hips. “Nanami—” The sound that came from his throat was jagged, agonized and barely comprehensible.

“I know—fuck—I know,” Nanami rasped, shushing and pacifying in a way suddenly tender in his understanding, each word dragging as if ground over sandpaper. He leaned closer, lips brushing Higuruma’s ear, his breath billowing and hot.

“You’re going to take it. Every inch, every bit of me until you can’t think straight—” nevermind that they already can’t think at all. Nanami hardly recognized himself. “—can you do that for me?”

Higuruma’s nails raked down Nanami’s back, whining and blinkered by lust to the point of muteness. Nanami could’ve asked him to peel his nails off and he would’ve if he thought it would feel good.

It spurred Nanami on, feeling his heart drop to his diaphragm to instead beat between his thighs. He didn’t waste another second, his hand shooting down between them, fingers trembling as he fumbled with the waistband of Higuruma’s pants. The button snapped free with a sharp pop, and Nanami tore the fabric apart, shoving his hand into Higuruma’s boxers without finesse.

His hand wrapped around the base of Higuruma’s cock, and the slick, hot pulse of it was almost enough to send Nanami over the edge right there. It was drenched, pre-cum spilling in obscene amounts, leaking down his hand, coating his palm in slippery warmth that dripped between his fingers. Fuck, he’s soaked. Higuruma was trembling, hips jerking into Nanami’s grip, chasing the friction with desperate, needy little thrusts.

“Fuck—Nanami, it hurts—” Higuruma gasped, voice cracking and jumping in Nanami’s fist, dripping onto the floor in the beginnings of a milky puddle.

“I know, I know,” Nanami groaned, voice low and wrecked, half-mad. He released Higuruma’s cock only long enough to yank his own pants down, fingers catching on the waistband in his rush to bare himself. He sprang free, and the sight of himself—hard as steel, already oozing to mat the honey blonde curls of hair on his belly—made him groan, muscles twitching with the need to bury himself inside Higuruma now. “I’ve… I’ve got you. Gonna help—”

There was no time for slow, no time for careful. None of the things he would’ve liked to do. No courtship, no gentle touches, no wining and dining, no chance to savor the feeling of peeling Higuruma away from the realm of friendship.

Nanami’s thoughts scattered like fractals, catching briefly on things like sunflowers—would Higuruma like if he bought them?—but the descending fog swallowed them whole.

Nanami groaned, he spun Higuruma around, slamming him chest-first into the wall with a force that rattled the entire cabin. The sharp sound of breath leaving Higuruma’s lungs was like gasoline on an open flame, and Nanami felt his erection twitch painfully, expanding more, oozing in a steady drip from the swollen tip. So much it felt like he might’ve cum already, but the ache in his balls told him otherwise—he hadn’t even begun.

Higuruma braced his hands against the wall, panting, his whole body trembling under Nanami’s weight. “Do it,” Higuruma snarled, thick with desperation and edged with defiance… or maybe just bravery in the face of what he knew was coming; both were equally admirable. “Please fuck me—I need it… it hurts—”

Nanami whimpered low in his throat, his hands gripping Higuruma’s hips, yanking him back roughly, aligning his pelvis with Higuruma’s ass. The head of his cock was so swollen it raged purple, slit weeping a thick coat that dripped down his length, soaking the base of Higuruma’s spine. It wasn’t normal—none of this was normal—but Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care.

He pressed the tip of his cock against Higuruma’s rim, smearing pre-cum over the tight ring of muscle and creating a slick runway as he dragged the head up and down, coating Higuruma in it. A small mercy, all things considered.

Higuruma’s body tensed, muscles bunching up beneath his skin as Nanami pushed against him, testing the resistance and hissed  at the stars that blew across his eyes. The pressure built, intense, unrelenting, until Nanami thrust forward in one hard, savage motion, burying himself to the hilt in a single stroke.

Higuruma howled, fingers gouging into the wall, tearing the lacquer as his body arched violently, breath coming in jagged, broken rasps. It was too much—too intense, too fast—but exactly what he needed and Nanami knew it.

Pain blurred into pleasure, the overwhelming fullness inside him, the brutal stretch—until there was no distinction left between agony and ecstasy. It all melted, streaming him into a state beyond either. He was euphoric, and the way he immediately shoved back into Nanami made it abundantly obvious.

Nanami froze, eyes rolling to their whites in a way that obliterated any semblance of dignity, the scalding heat inside Hiromi nearly buckling his legs. The way Hiromi squeezed, quivered, and trembled around him had Nanami teetering, hand lashing out to the wall for support and crushing over Higuruma’s knuckles instead.

“Fuu-haah—” The curse fizzled and died on his tongue, useless and defunct. And then Nanami moved, a brutal, unrelenting force, each thrust shaking them both to their very foundations. Flesh pounded against sticky flesh, echoing in the space in a way so pornographic that it might’ve made Nanami blush under regular circumstances.

But this wasn’t regular. His fingers slipped between Higuruma’s pinning them both to the wall.

Dinner and sunflowers.

Nanami’s mind flickered with a different fantasy altogether—far sweeter than the damnable pollen on his tongue, the softness he had wanted to offer Hiromi. That calm domesticity, the gentleness Nanami thought he should’ve given. But here they were, drowning and clawing at each other to stay afloat.

Higuruma’s body rocked with every thrust, his own cock dripping against the wall, smearing in gooey, messy trails. He was completely lost, undone by the feeling of Nanami inside him—stretching him, molding him. Every stroke sent a wave of pleasure-pain through his body, chipping moans from his throat, making him claw at the wall, desperate for more, desperate for anything and everything, and he took it greedily.

Nanami’s free hand slid around, wrapping firmly around Higuruma’s length. He squeezed, stroking in time with the thrusts that had Higuruma corseted to the wall. “You’re mine,” Nanami murmured, voice thick and tongue useless in his mouth, far better suited for lapping at Higuruma’s neck than talking, and so he does.

If Higuruma was his, Nanami would spend the rest of his life making it up to him. He’d worship him. Take him out for dinners, make sure he laughed, filled his life with comfort, and this—this would be a secret they’d share. A private thing to laugh about and remember rather than the source of shame Nanami feared. He’d—fuck, he’d get him sunflowers everyday. During the winter he’d grow them himself if he had to—

“Please say it,” he crackled, desperate, impeaching. Suddenly this mattered to him.

Higuruma’s breath caught, quivering with each brutal batter into his body, already cracking like pressured glass. “Yours,” he gasped, his voice staticky with gravel, shredded from the moans that never once stopped dripping helplessly from spit-slick lips.

“Fuck, Nanami, I’m yours—”

That was all Nanami needed.

Higuruma’s submission wasn’t just some indulgence of lust. It was deeper than that, something in his very bones. Nanami saw it clearly now—the dormant part of Higuruma that craved being tethered, the wolf who wanted to be collared, domesticated into a dog. And Nanami was more than willing to bear the leash, to hold it firm and tender in his grip, to guide Higuruma through his surrender.

Nanami possessed Higuruma so beautifully, so thoroughly responsible for him, that it inspired nothing but heart-stopping adoration in the delirious mess of a man beneath him.

The thought shot through Nanami like a bullet, inspiring furious determination to do away with the awful edges where Higuruma ended and he began. His hips snapped forward, thrusting with brutal purpose, hammering into Higuruma with a force that sought to unmake them both, return them to stardust or whatever primordial pool they crawled out of. And Higuruma, with every ragged moan, took it. No, more than that, he welcomed it.

Drool slid unashamedly down Higuruma’s chin, cheek squished to the wall, his throat convulsing with every slam of Nanami’s cock inside him so deep he swears he feels him in his ribs. His voice was nothing but a mess of broken syllables now— “Na-na-mi—!”—barely managing his lover’s name in the mess of spit and pathetic mewling.

“Harder,” Higuruma gasped, voice shredded beyond recognition, hips rutting desperately into Nanami’s hand, chasing that final bit of friction, that last agonizing piece just at the tip of his tongue. “Fu–uu–uu-ck, please—m’gonna—”

Ever his servant Nanami’s fist tightened around Higuruma’s cock, knuckles white with the force of his grip as he stroked him, rougher than he liked it himself, but exactly how he thought Higuruma needed it because he thought he might appreciate a firm hand. So salaciously determined is he to milk every drop of pleasure from him, to exorcize this feralness from their bodies.

That’s all it took. Higuruma’s entire body went rigid before shattering gloriously—

He convulsed, spine arching violently off the wall as his orgasm tore through him, ripping a raw, choked cry from his throat. Hot, thick ropes spilled over Nanami’s fingers, and the rest splattered messily against the wall. His breath hitched, caught somewhere between a sob and a gasp as the overwhelming mix of pain and relief threatened to drown him. His legs buckled, but Nanami held him upright, speared by Nanami’s cock and the firm grip that kept him from crumbling entirely.

Nanami slowed just for a moment, enraptured by the ruin beneath him, feeling the others' orgasm with ferocious synchronicity like a punch to the gut.

Higuruma was still trembling, breath uneven, each gasp shaky and erratic. “Please, just—” Nanami gripped his hips, dragging him back into place, and with a breathless choke, “—please don’t stop me—I can’t… I still need—”

Nanami bent him, his forearms flexing in a restraining pin around his chest and waist; Higuruma curled and arched back, and back, and back into him like some lewd figurehead of a ship.

“Fuck, Nanami… please—more.” Higuruma’s voice was impoverished, hands clawing at the walls until wood splintered beneath the blunt bite of his nails, desperate to hold onto something, anything, as Nanami drove into him, the force of it pushing him further up the wall with each sloppy thrust as his cock continued to sputter against frayed and scratched wood—impossibly unspent.

The tension in Nanami’s gut coiled tighter and tighter, a spring wound to its breaking point before finally—

It snapped with a final, brutal thrust, and he met his first orgasm with an embarrassing cry—raw, desperate, echoing through each fierce contraction that tore through him. His grip on Higuruma’s hand tightened as he whined against the damp skin of his neck, shuddering with every hot, thick pulse that spilled deep inside his lover. He gasped raggedly, gulping for air over flushed, bitten skin as he rode out the last shivers of release, clinging to Higuruma as if the world would fall away without him.

Their bodies slumped together, breaths mingling. Higuruma’s forehead pressed against the wall, and for a moment, everything was still except for the lingering tremors that juddered them both. Nanami’s breath was hot against his neck; his lips dragged over the skin, pressing kisses of apology, gratitude, pleading.

But it wasn’t enough. The insistent burn beneath their skin, the gnawing ache, still simmered. They could both feel it—this madness that refused to release its grip, no matter how hard they tried to bury it.

“Nanami,” Higuruma panted. His hands, now trembling, scraped roughly against the splintered wood. He forced himself to turn, just enough to catch a glimpse of Nanami’s face—flushed, tense, eyes squeezed shut in agony. “Are you… are you okay?”

Nanami’s answer was a slow shake of his head, breath bitten between clenched teeth.

“I… still feel it,” he confessed, voice rough, strained, composure stripped and leaving him shamelessly wanton. He swallowed, trying to regain some control of only his voice, but it was useless. A frustrated groan slipped out, his hips twitching forward unconsciously, still buried deep inside Higuruma, hard as iron and showing no sign of letting up. “It’s not enough… fuck, it’s not enough.”

Higuruma’s heart pounded, the reality of their situation sinking in. He should be sated, exhausted even, but his body was already responding to Nanami’s words, the fire rekindling with a vengeance—the refractory period of some debauched god, not the exhausted thirty six year old man he knows himself to be. He’s never been so hard in his life.

Without another word, Nanami tightened his hold on Higuruma, stumbling back on shaky legs until they sank to the floor. There was a brief, fleeting moment of tenderness as Nanami held Higuruma close, twisting him around so they could face each other.

Higuruma was ruined. Spit wet his chin and cheek, his hair spiked in all directions beyond repair, and eyes dilated so eclipsing of their pupils that Nanami can barely see the whites either.

Supple, pliant, and so beautiful.

“Higuruma…” Nanami’s voice was breathless and heavy, but there was a new softness to it—a plea woven through the desperation like wicker baskets, only hoping they’d hold the weight of emotions he was too addled to carry.

His hands found Higuruma’s, guiding them to his broad shoulders with a gentle insistence. He yearned for him with a presence of mind he lacked before. He’d needed a body, that was all, and that hadn’t changed… but Nanami wanted him.

“Please—”

The word broke from him, cracked and vulnerable, as his fingers tightened around Higuruma’s hip, trembling with the effort to stay anchored. He slid his hand down, cupping the curve of Higuruma’s ass and giving a firm, urging push, his wide, desperate eyes locking onto Higuruma’s, beseeching and pained.

Higuruma cupped Nanami’s face in his hands, the same hands that ruined a wooden wall possessed with something more gentle now, he cradled him like something fragile.

He looked at Nanami like he’d never seen him before, and in a way, he hadn’t. Not like this—not so ruined.

He leaned in, capturing Nanami’s lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, pouring every ounce of weight and nebulous bit of emotion into it. His thighs tightened around Nanami’s hips as he lifted himself up and then dropped back down onto Nanami’s cock. Fire met with the gasoline in his blood, reigniting anew.

He was always meant to be burned by Nanami.

He would give and take until there was nothing left.

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When the sun rose it did so sluggishly.

Like it too was afraid of what it might find inside the unassuming little cottage. Its eye rose hesitant over the trees, golden spears shot through windows and sheer curtains, illuminating the carnage strewn about the floors.

Anything not nailed down was toppled, the knick-knacks so meticulously arranged knocked to the floor or shattered, books indecently fluttered their pages in dead air, and the floors, the walls, and the upholstered leather of the couch were thoroughly destroyed.

Claw marks and stuffing, the odd bite taken out of the arm of a chair and left punctured with teeth—but no blood, no murder, no bodies—except for two, very much alive and tangled in a mess of limbs and sticky flesh on what remained of the couch.

Nanami’s leg dangled off the edge, one arm limp against the floor, while the other curled a cradle around Higuruma’s back where he slumped on his shoulder—drooling, snoring, and finally sated .

The man was peaceful—vulnerable in a way that tugged something deep in Nanami’s chest.

Nanami didn’t sleep.

Not much, at least.

He stayed vigilant, his thoughts churning like a storm at sea. Once they were both… “well” … he’d agonized, he’d thought, he’d theorized. He’d seethed and spat in his head like a rabid animal, every part of him on edge, because he knew this wasn’t right. This wasn’t simply an explosive culmination of little repressed desires—though he did take some time to consider the implications of what this would mean for his relationship with Higuruma tomorrow. No, this was something done to them.

He remembered reading the report about a curse Gojo exorcized once—one that could induce euphoria, passivity, bending the mind to its will through flower fields. If a curse could do that, then why not something more sinister? Something that could twist emotions, heighten them to the point of madness. Rage, hate, lust… such a curse wouldn’t need to act violently itself; it could simply turn its victims into weapons, feeding off the very emotions it created. The implications set a chill in his gut, heavy and unsettling.

Couple murders. One survivor. Confusion. The details were sparse in the file, but Nanami recalled those morbid little highlights, and with a new day dawning he knew he had to settle the theory that stewed in his head all night.

With a careful touch Nanami’s arm tightened around Higuruma’s shoulders, supporting his back as he rolled them over as gently as he could manage.

Higuruma grumbled inarticulately, Nanami inhaled and froze, hovering… the snoring resumed, and so too did Nanami exhale. He arranged Higuruma’s limbs so he’d be more comfortable, making sure long legs and bruised arms were tucked properly onto the fluff-bleeding cushions. His hand lingered a moment longer as he lifted Higuruma’s head to place on a pillow, fingers dipped in inky hair with soft consideration.

His palm brushed once, easing the tufted cowlicks on his head before he withdrew.

Nanami stood, his chiseled jaw clenched, determination hardening his features as he turned away from the couch. Without a backward glance, he marched to the front door, each step measured and purposeful.

Nanami didn’t bother with clothes as his feet pounded the floor, the cool wood unforgiving against his bare skin. He gripped the door knob like it was the throat of an enemy, twisting and flinging it with a force that should’ve sent the door flying—yet it didn’t budge. “ Hah… ” he chuckled, darkly amused. He tried again, muscles flexing, veins bulging with effort— how embarrassing, he mused, only if he hadn’t expected exactly this.

He moved to the kitchen. The window above the sink brightly lit with cheerful morning gold, dripping jewels from dewy grass on the gravel drive. He reached for the small metal latch, hope flickering in his chest like a dying ember—sealed.

“I fucking knew it,” he laughed despite himself, near hysterical at his idiocy. His hand found its way to his hip, the other raking through irreversibly tousled wheat hair.

“Knew what?”

Nanami’s flinched to hear Higuruma speak. He whirled around, finding him propped up on the couch, one arm slung over the torn and fuzzy backrest, his expression groggy but attentive.

“The door won’t open,” Nanami said with a derisive snort.

“—and you wanted to go outside naked because—?”

“The windows too. I can’t open them.”

Higuruma’s brow furrowed, sleep slowly ebbing away as he propped one knee up, hooking an elbow around it while resting his head atop the makeshift pillow. “And…?”

“They’re not real, Higuruma.”

Oh, so he’s lost it, Higuruma thought.

Higuruma blinked, a moment of confusion flashing in his eyes before he smothered it beneath a well-practiced mask of calm. His lips curled into a placating smile, the kind one gives to a person on the verge of breaking. “I see…” he didn’t.

“... are you feeling alright?” His voice was steady, honed by decades of smothering nerves beneath layers of practiced indifference. But he could feel the exhaustion pulling at his edges, the dregs of whatever had been in his system finally clearing. If Nanami wasn’t good, if he had truly lost it, then…

Nanami groaned, shaking his head as he strode back to the couch. “We’re in a domain, Higuruma. We probably have been since we walked through the door.”

That pulled Higuruma out of his spiraling thoughts. He scoffed, disbelieving that that was the conclusion Nanami arrived at. “No—no, we would’ve noticed.”

Nanami grunted in response, his focus on the rubble scattered across the floor. He crouched down, rifling through the mess with a single-minded determination until he found his boxers. He stepped into them with the kind of force that spoke volumes about the rage simmering beneath his skin. “Mess with my fucking head —my fucking body …I don’t fucking think so.”

“Wouldn’t we have noticed?” Higuruma insisted. He scrambled off the couch, the cool air biting at his skin as he tried the door, then the windows—no dice. He blinked owlishly. How hadn’t they noticed?

“Wait, where are you going?”

Higuruma watched, a mix of awe and concern tightening his chest, as Nanami, clad only in his boxers and wielding his signature black-and-white blade, stormed across the living room. The destruction underfoot crunched with each step, like the ground itself was trembling beneath his ire. He moved with the purpose of an angry deity, his eyes narrowed in determination. “I’m going to find it, of course.” The rest of his ensemble seemed irrelevant, the sheer force of his anger making everything else redundant. At the very least, Nanami refused to face his quarry with his dick out.

Higuruma scrambled for his clothes, now little more than torn scraps, but managed to yank on a pair of boxers, matching Nanami’s hurried attire. “Try going up,” he suggested, breathless, hopping in place to work an uncooperative leg through the leg hole.

“Is there an attic?” Nanami’s voice was sharp, all business as they moved in unison down the hallway, weapons gripped with white-knuckled determination, intent on receiving their pound of flesh in return for their dignity.

Higuruma nodded, still catching his breath. “I believe so. The house looked taller from the outside.”

Heat rises. The thought flashed between them, unspoken yet understood. The sweltering flames that burned them from the night before would have naturally ascended, carrying with it the intoxicating miasma that fueled whatever twisted curse that ensnared them, up to the highest point. Simple physics.

Nanami for all of his composure (last night notwithstanding) was always careful on the job. You would not know this by how he kicked down the door at the top of the stairs, blowing it clear of its hinges and obliterating it with a violent explosion of splintered wood.

“Where are you…”

The thing skittered down from the rafters, a grotesque, spider-like abomination with far too many limbs that clicked and chittered as it descended. Its body was an obscene, fleshy mass, swollen and pulsing as if ready to burst, its skin stretched thin over the bloated form beneath. It laughed in that eerie, tinny way curses do, mandibles clicking and many eyes rolling to devour the two men in the doorway.

It was slow, fat and sluggish, engorged on the feast they’d unwittingly provided, dragging itself across the floor with an unnatural, bone-crunching crawl. Its limbs twitched sporadically, like it couldn’t quite control them, its movements erratic and nauseating to watch.

Nanami liked to take his time, usually. Liked to assess his enemy and make sure there were no nasty surprises waiting for him once he engaged. Because Nanami was a careful man, even moreso when he isn’t alone. But not this time. There was no patience left in him.

Nanami’s eyes blazed with the cold, righteous fury of a vengeful god. Ratios lined his vision, spinning and locking into place with terrifying clarity. He swung his blade in a wide, brutal arc.

The strike was perfect.

Wooden boards shattered beneath the force of his blade as it sliced through bloated curse flesh, spewing rotten blood across Nanami’s bare skin. The creature shrieked and twitched violently, its many legs flailing in a grotesque, desperate dance before it seized up and fell still. The curse evaporated into dust… but not the usual gray ash he’d come to expect.

Yellow spores billowed into the air, and Nanami immediately hurled himself backward, instinctively bodying Higuruma aside and away from the cloud. The panic was swift and visceral, propelling him out of harm’s way as he crowded Higuruma into a safer corner.

Higuruma staggered slightly from the force but quickly steadied himself, feeling the air around them clear, becoming lighter, easier to breathe. The light filtering through the dusty old window seemed a little brighter now, cutting through the gloom with a newfound sharpness.

Nanami’s shoulders were tense, muscles flexing as he adjusted his grip on the blade’s fabric-bound handle. Higuruma couldn’t see Nanami’s ratio lines, but he could see the red welts and scratches marring his back, the way the skin stretched taut over them and surely must sting—but Nanami didn’t flinch.

Higuruma is silent for a moment, neither of them speak, letting the feeling of closure dawn well and truly over them before finally Higuruma sighed and relaxed his grip on his own weapon, raking a hand through his disheveled hair. “Well… I suppose that’s taken care of.”

Nanami straightened, his exhale feeling every bit the exorcism he’d just performed. His hand reflexively reached for his throat, adjusting a tie that wasn’t there, on a suit he wasn’t wearing. He grimaced, prickling.

“...It would seem so.”

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Scalding shower water and floral-scented soap that made Nanami’s stomach churn and skin shiver with thoughts of flowers, and petals, and pollen, and Higuruma—they took turns cleaning themselves one after the other. Nanami first, scrubbing his skin with a fervor that bordered on obsession, as if the force of his hands could erase not just the icy streaks of purple curse blood, but the memory of how it got there and every other substance that clung to his weary body.

After him, Higuruma took his place in the steamy room, letting water pound against his bruised and aching back, head bowed under the spray and washing away far more than dust and grime. It was a baptism, a cleansing, until the water that swirled down the drain ran clear and took with it the last bit of curse-induced grit and fucked dumb-ness from his brain.

The house invented its own gravity well, warping all sounds and emotions, all feelings except for what it wanted them to feel. But now that pull was gone. Their feet were no longer nailed down by that otherworldly weight; they were grounded once again by the earth's natural pull, back in the same plane as everyone else, free from the almost-world of the domain.

Nanami had already called Ijichi, arranging their extraction with the kind of professional detachment that belied everything that transpired within these walls. “We’re both fine,” and “it’s been dealt with,” and “yes, at your earliest convenience, thank you.”

Now, with nothing left to do but wait, Higuruma and Nanami moved around each other with dancing steps, choreographed avoidance and refusal to so much as bump into each other—because what if one thing led to another, and what if they weren’t quite right yet and it started again, and what if they said something stupid—

Higuruma ran a hand through his still-damp hair, grimacing at his inability to bridge the gap. There was no precedent for what they’d done, no documentation for him to point at and say “hey, here’s what we do now”.

Things had never been tense with Nanami. Their connection had always been easy, natural—colleagues by circumstance, friends by choice. They shared the same burden, the same grim determination to do what needed to be done and the understanding that someone had to do it. Misery loves company, and theirs had always been more than just a shared duty.

But that was before they’d fucked like their lives depended on it.

Funny how that changes things.

There was a carefulness in the way they moved now, an awareness that hadn’t been there before. Nanami was stiff and brittle, seeming almost afraid to get too close, like he couldn’t quite reconcile what he’d done with who he thought he was.

Higuruma, perceptive as always, kept his distance; not wanting to push too hard and break whatever fragile equilibrium they’d managed to find; because this wretched silence was still preferable to the breakup of their friendship.

It was almost comical, really, how they could teeter so close to the precipice of something meaningful and yet Higuruma found himself holding back. Like a cat eyeing a fishbowl, the temptation there, the desire to reach out and take the leap, but deciding against the jump because he was afraid he wouldn’t stick the landing.

But Higuruma had never been one to shy away from the truth. He’d made a career out of cutting through bullshit, and he wasn’t about to stop now even with potentially catastrophic consequences. So, with a resolve that brooked no argument, he weed-wacked the silence and leveled Nanami’s turned back with a look that would’ve dismantled a lesser man.

“We don’t have to talk about it.” He began abruptly. “But you’re a good friend of mine, Nanami—and if it’s up to me, that won’t change. So if we’re going to forget that this happened, just tell me so I can do the same. We need to be on the same page at the very least.”

Nanami surveyed the world outside the wide open living room window as if it were his kingdom. Quietly and greedily inhaling the fresh air that swept in, and with it went out the sordid smog that clung like film wrap to his brain. He’d been eager to confirm the windows would indeed open now with the curse exorcized—they did. He also wanted an excuse to silently gather himself—the window provided.

Nanami didn’t turn to face him, but the way his head lifted just so made it clear he was listening intently.

His gaze stayed riveted on the horizon outside, where the morning sun bled gold into the sky. Wishing that same light would illuminate the jumbled mess of thoughts and feelings he’d agonized over while Higuruma slept and highlight the way forward.

He thought he could handle it—both the mission and the man with him—but the pollen stripped him raw, naked to the soul. It was ugly and far from what Higuruma deserved; both physically and the cold words traded before it.

If Higuruma was his…

The thought alone made his stomach knot, a quiet yearning twisting inside him like hemlock. Nanami wanted so much more than what they’d been forced into—wanted to take his time, to show Higuruma the care and consideration he was worth. There should have been dinners, quiet conversations over wine, the slow unfolding of something deeper than friendship. It should’ve been a courtship, not a violent collision of hunger and curse-driven madness.

But what was done was done. No amount of wishing could undo it, and now, standing on the other side of the night, Nanami knew he had to make it right. He wanted to with a sincerity that bordered on desperation.

Because if Higuruma was his…

Nanami felt the longing bloom again, a poison that seeps closer and closer to his heart. He would give him everything. Anything he wanted—days filled with small comforts and nights spent wrapped in the quiet intimacy of just being together. He would repair Higuruma’s suit, take him out for the best meals, buy him flowers, and pour his drinks. He would worship him in every way a man could be worshiped, not just in moments of passion but in all the mundane, unspoken ways that truly mattered.

He indulged those thoughts while Higuruma slept, when the yearning of the body surrendered to the yearning of the heart. Nanami allowed his brutally thick arms to hold him just a little tighter, relishing those small hours of peace before he knew everything would change. It was as inevitable as watching the sun slowly rise through the windows, shedding light on the destruction they’d wrought; change would come, and he didn’t know from which direction he should protect himself when the path diverged.

But those hours of clandestine coveting seemed a lifetime ago, more a fantasy than a possibility. Higuruma’s voice was firm, almost clinical, as he tried to set the parameters of their future interactions. We need to be on the same page, he said, and Nanami felt a stab of regret that they weren’t already.

We don’t have to talk about it.

Nanami knew that was true, but it was the very thing that gnawed at him. They could sweep it under the rug, pretend it hadn’t happened, and go back to the way things were—but Nanami wasn’t sure he could. Not when he thought he felt something, saw something, in Higuruma. The path split before him now—safety and risk, retreating back or shouldering forward. Maybe he’d lost his mind a mile or so back.

Nanami finally turned to face him, the morning light catching whiskey eyes and flambéing them with ardent certainty. He didn’t know how to say it. He’d always been good with words but never this kind, but words didn’t know that when they tumbled out anyway.

“I don’t want to forget,” he confessed.

It was a start.

“I will not just brush this aside, Higuruma. You… mean a great deal to me.” What a pisspoor excuse of a confession, he thought bitterly.

He cleared his throat, met Higuruma’s shrewd eyes and fought against every impulse to look away. He forged ahead.

“Last night… wasn’t us. And I know that that is not how I would’ve wanted things to go if ever we were to…” he trailed off, waving his hand vaguely. But Higuruma nodded, understanding the words in the silence and encouraged him on.

“But it felt like—to me, at least, like maybe there was something there. Something worth doing differently, if you feel the same way.”

“I want to make it right. In fact, I insist on making it right, if you’ll let me.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken truths, the kind that couldn’t be easily unpacked in the span of a few seconds or weakly uttered confessions and pleas. Nanami’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat a tolling bell with the hope that maybe, just maybe, Higuruma would understand—that he’d see through the mess of it all to the sincerity underneath.

Because for all his equanimity, Nanami couldn’t shake the truth he’d arrived at while Higuruma slept that seeded itself in his chest: If Higuruma was his, he’d never stop trying to make him happy. He’d never stop wanting this.

“And I’d like to start with that drink… if you’re still amenable to that.”

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The first tentative days turned to months, and then years.

Work-related dinners with the occasional bar visit to unwind effortlessly transitioned into intimate date nights. A strange bond formed in the crucible of something neither of them could ever explain, tempered with time and the endless patience of two men lucky enough to know what they have. Higuruma and Nanami repaired their relationship with gold, filigree filling the cracks and turning it far more beautiful than it began.

Now, when the two found themselves on the sun-drowned beaches of Malaysia, toes buried in hot sand with matching skin-warmed gold bands clasped in woven hands, they might mention that one time and laugh.

A humorous anecdote from a lifetime ago where Higuruma insists that that one time is the cause of his persisting back pains, and Nanami asserts that the scars that litter his back and arms are not from a curse at all but from that one time.

And when Nanami glanced at Higuruma, face turned toward the sun with a blissful smile on his face, Nanami allowed himself to smile too. He’d made up for it in every way that mattered so long as he could see Higuruma smile like that, and he would keep doing so for the rest of their lives.

[ihops-golden-closet]

How To Care For A Bunny 101

Pairing: Jungkook x Bunny Hybrid Reader, mentions of Dog Hybrid Jimin x Bunny Hybrid Reader

Genre: Domestic, Smut, Fluff, a little bit of angst, mentions of the past, a little bit of sliding timelines

Rating: 18+

Summary: You were head over heels for your owner but you always buried your feelings in fear of damaging your relationship with Jungkook. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was also in the exact same predicament. After you experience your heat for the first time, Jungkook decides it's finally time for him to come clean.

Author's Note: Hello! This is the first piece of work that I am uploading to this site. I hope I don't scare anyone off of here. A bit of a warning but there is a bit of a sliding timeline here. If this gets confusing, I would appreciate the feedback. If you liked this story, please leave a like and give my blog a follow! I would really appreciate it!

Italics=Past

Clutching the stuffed animal closer to your body, you watched as the alarm clock struck midnight. It’s been over an hour since the tattoo shop that your owner works at was supposed to close but Jungkook has yet to arrive home. The stuffed toy, which you affectionately named Cooky, was a birthday gift your owner had gotten you. In times when you feel lonely, such as this one, Cooky provides some comfort but you would rather be cuddled up in Jungkook’s arms as he lulled you to sleep with his gentle singing.  

It didn’t take long for you to fall head over heels for Jungkook after you started living with him. How could you not? Jungkook was everything a girl could want. He was sweet, had the voice of an angel, attractive (although you always felt too shy to tell him that), and cherished every moment he spent with you among other things. Most importantly, he cared for you, a feeling you were robbed of growing up in that wretched hybrid care center you used to call home.

You don’t think of your past home as much as you used to. Preferring the memories you make now with your loving owner than the lonely ones back at your old home. It was at this bunny hybrid care center that you could recall your earliest memories. It was there where you were raised by the facility’s caretakers and received your education, making a few casual friends along the way. As kind as some of your caretakers were, you never grew as close to any, at least not in the way you did with Jungkook. They often never stayed long to form that kind of connection anyway. It wasn’t the best place for a child, the facility not receiving as much funding as it should to properly care for its residents. You often felt alone. You had some friends but for the most part, you missed out on forming deep and meaningful bonds. 

You didn’t get adopted as a kid. Most families preferred to adopt hybrids when they were still very young. But you aged out of the preferred age bracket and eventually came to the realization that finding another home might as well be impossible. Hybrids who chose to stay could work for the center in exchange for basic housing and money (albeit a poor wage). With nowhere else to go, you really had no other option. 

That was up until Jungkook came into your life.

It was never Jungkook’s intention to adopt a hybrid. He had only come to your residence to accompany his friend Eunwoo. Eunwoo already had his own hybrid at home but wanted to adopt another one as a companion. It was on that day that Jungkook met you for the first time. 

He first came across you doodling on your sketchbook at the care center’s living room area. You were curled up in a huge chair besides the room’s massive window. He even remembered exactly what you wore that day because of how cute he thought you looked. A fluffy oversized sweater and some fuzzy socks. You were so focused on your work that you took no notice of the buzz around you.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?”, Eunwoo quipped from behind Jungkook, snapping the other out of his staring daze.

“Y-yeah, she is”, Jungkook choked, feeling sheepish at being caught, “have you seen her yet?”

“No, but I’d like to get to know her”, Eunwoo shrugged, “maybe she’d be a good match for my Hana.”

After asking around a bit, Eunwoo was able to land a meet session with you that same day. He just wanted to get to know you better, see if you’d be a good match for his own hybrid at home. Being that Jungkook was already there, he stuck around for the meeting. Although if he was being honest, he was curious about you too.

-

“I like your body art.”

“Body art?”, Jungkook asked, “you mean my tattoos?”

“Oh I meant tattoos! Sorry! ”, you quickly apologized, embarrassed at your own mistake. You have seen tattoos before in magazines and in movies but didn’t know what to call them. 

“No worries, I knew what you meant”, Jungkook laughed, “wanna see them?”

“Sure!”

Jungkook giggled at your enthusiasm before removing his jacket. You blushed at the sight of his well defined biceps decorated with numerous tattoos. His body itself was it’s own work of art. The next couple of minutes were spent with you gushing over how cool Jungkook’s tattoos looked, curious to find out the meaning and detail behind every one of them. Jungkook doesn’t think he has ever met anyone as excited about tattoos as you were, especially with how innocent he thought you looked. 

Although the session was meant for Eunwoo to get to know you better, he ended up basically being third wheeled for the remainder of the enthusiastic exchange between the two of you. It didn’t bother him however, it was pretty amusing watching his friend of over a decade turn into a pile of putty in front him. 

-

“She seems smitten with you”, Eunwoo commented over his steaming cup of coffee. 

After the session was over, Eunwoo had let the staff know that he needed more time to think it over before adopting you. Both he and Jungkook deciding to stop at a cafe close by after the ordeal.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook replied over his own iced americano. 

Eunwoo shrugged before taking a sip of his own drink, “have you ever thought about adopting a hybrid?”

“No.” 

It was true, it had never really crossed Jungkook’s mind before. He knows of people who have, and from his perspective, it seems like a huge hassle. There are specific diets, expensive medical visits, the dreaded heat spells, and who knows how many more complications out there.

“Well if you ever change your mind, I know a cute one.”

-

Being a new and relatively inexperienced owner, Jungkook missed all red flags of your impending first heat. You were extra affectionate and clingy. Not that it bothered him at all. He loved basking in the extra attention and affection you provided, chalking it up to you simply missing him due to the heavy work schedule he had that week. 

Then it was the restlessness. Just before he left for work or to run errands in the morning, he would stop by your room to check up on you only you find you still awake from the night before with red eyes and a tired face. The lack of sleep was an immediate cause of concern in his eyes. He thought it warranted a doctor’s visit but you insisted that it was nothing to worry about and it was all caused by you staying up late to play games on your computer. His instincts told him it was something else but he took your word for it anyway and decided to wait and see if your sleep improved.

He finally dragged you to see the doctor after your restlessness only worsened and you started to complain of hot flashes. You tried to brush that off with different excuses as well but nothing you said this time was going to stop this doctor’s visit from happening.

-

“She’s experiencing her first heat.”

Jungkook nearly chocked on his own salvia upon hearing those words come out the doctor so nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. It hadn’t even been 5 minutes since Jungkook described your symptoms to the middle aged woman before she already had a diagnosis.

“Are you sure? I mean, the symptoms are kind of broad, could it not be an indiction of something else?”

“I’m positive”, she left out a laugh and adjusted her glasses, “I see it all the time. Besides, she’s due for one. I’d be more concerned if she hadn’t experience her heat yet.”

Jungkook chewed his lip. He had researched your symptoms on his own and found that your symptoms marked all the signs of a hybrid heat but he had just wanted to make sure. He felt his heart drop as he remembered all the posts recommending hybrids go through their heats with other hybrids. 

“I see…she’s going to need a hybrid partner, right?”

“Ideally, yes. However, any partner will do so long as she has her needs met. Whether you decide to find her a hybrid partner or assist her yourself is going to be something for you and her to decide.”

As much as he despised the idea of another man touching you, Jungkook knew that he had to set his feelings aside and do what’s best for you. He didn’t want to take advantage of your instincts.

He knew of another hybrid like you who could help you through your heat. Jimin, a dog hybrid, was his coworker and one of his closest friends. Many businesses actively discriminate against hybrids and typically don’t hire them but Seokjin had known Jimin for a while and knew it’d be silly to pass out on a valuable employee because he happened to have ears and a fluffy tail. Most customers loved Jimin anyway because of his charm and skills, few ever turned him away for his hybrid status. 

He feels uneasy at the prospect of asking Jimin if he would be willing to help you with such an intimate activity but he knew he could trust Jimin. Sex between hybrids is almost always done for instinctual needs and intimacy isn’t an aspect typically involved but Jungkook can’t help but feel his stomach churn at the thought.

-

“I’ll do it.”

Jungkook felt his heart drop a bit. Theoretically, he should be thankful that Jimin didn’t outright turn on him or even worse, cut all contact with him then and there. But still, part of him had hoped for a little more resistance from the hybrid.

“A-are you sure?”, Jungkook hopes Jimin doesn’t catch on to the reluctance in his voice.

“Yeah, I mean, why not? I know how much of a pain heats are, especially when you don’t have a partner to help you out. She’s really lucky to have an owner like you who looks out for these kinds of things Kook.”

-

Jungkook didn’t speak to Jimin for a couple of days after that night. He knew it was a wrong and shitty thing to do but he couldn’t stomach any sort of interaction with him. Every time he looked at Jimin, the image of you beneath him crossed his mind and it haunted him. It’s not like he was mad or upset with Jimin. Jungkook was the one who had asked him for his help after all. He just needs some time to forget the whole thing. As much as Jungkook tried to not show how bothered he was by the whole ordeal, the others quickly caught on to the change in his character. He didn’t joke around or engage with the others as much as he used to.

After the tension between them became too unbearable for Jimin to handle, Jimin decided to finally confront Jungkook privately. He wanted to catch Jungkook at closing hour as soon as the others left but he’s not too sure how that’s going to work out considering Jungkook is almost always the first to leave these days. Jimin knows that was surely in an effort to avoid him since Jimin had to almost drag Jungkook out of the parlor after closing before. Fortunately for him, Jungkook had forgotten a few of his belongings back in the parlor so he had no choice but to come back and retrieve them.  

Jimin was just about done sweeping up the place when he heard the unlocking of the parlor’s door. There stood Jungkook, who looked like a deer caught under headlights as soon as he met Jimin’s stare.

“H-hey”, Jungkook could feel his hands start to get clammy as soon as he realized he was alone with Jimin, “I just realized I left some of my stuff here so I came back to pick them up.”

“Oh yea, no problem. I left them on the counter in the back”, Jimin quipped. Despite not confronting him yet, Jimin already started to feel awkward.

Jungkook bolted for the door as soon as he had grabbed all his things. He was only a few steps away from the exit when Jimin made his move.

“Jungkook, wait.”

Shit.

“Yes hyung?”, Jungkook had inched towards the door, resting his hand on the handle but he had turned around to reply to Jimin anyways.

“We should talk.”

Despite trying to avoid the situation altogether, Jungkook knew this would inevitably happen. It was difficult for him to completely hide the change in his character altogether. Jimin was also a sensitive guy by nature, he knew Jimin could feel the tension in the room become impalpable when they were together. 

Jungkook let out an awkward cough before speaking, “sure, what’s on your mind?”

He could have replied that he had somewhere to be and spared himself from the conversation at hand but he already felt like a piece of shit for avoiding Jimin. This was the least he could do.

Jimin sighed. How does one even start a conversation like this?

“Well…to be honest, I just feel like something’s changed between us”, Jimin let the words flow out, it’s too late to go back now, “I don’t if you been trying to avoid me lately but that’s the impression I’m getting. I just wanted to know…if I did something wrong or something?"

“N-no”, Jungkook suddenly felt extremely guilty, “of course not hyung. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jimin knew Jungkook was still hiding something, so he pressed further, “but something’s definitely bothering you Kook, I can tell. You know you could always tell me right? I won’t be hurt or offended.”

Jungkook sighed, he going to have to come clean for Jimin’s sake, “it’s not you hyung. Really. It’s me.”

Setting his stuff down, Jungkook decided to tell finally tell someone what was on his mind.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that…after that night between you and Y/N…I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Jungkook started trailing off again, he wanted to Jimin his true feelings but the words just keep getting lodged in his throat. Jimin was relieved to hear that he didn’t fuck up his and Jungkook’s relationship but it still bothered him to see Jungkook look so down. He’s been close friends with Jungkook for so long now that Jungkook is practically like a little brother to him. Even if Jimin isn’t the reason for change in Jungkook’s character, he’s still going to help him in any way he can.

“What do you mean? Is Y/N still in pain?”

“No”, Jungkook quickly interjected, “she’s ok now, what I’m trying to say is that this is more about me than it is her.”

Jimin thinks be beginning to understand now. 

“I love her hyung and not in a way that an owner should be with their hybrid,” Jungkook felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders as he began to pour out the feelings he had bottled up inside for so long, “you did nothing wrong. I’m not mad at you or anything. I just feel… hurt and jealous about the whole thing. I know it’s a shitty thing to be feeling that way but everytime I’m with you…all I can think about is you and Y/N, well y’know.”

Oh. Jimin had a small hunch about what was really going on but he never thought that Jungkook would actually come to him and confirm it. Jimin felt like shit. He was just now starting to understand just how deep Jungkook’s feelings for you ran and he had jumped in and ruined it. Jimin felt as if he had betrayed his own brother.

“Jungkook, you have to tell Y/N.”

Jungkook’s eyes doubled in size at Jimin’s word of advice. How could he tell you something like that? What if you don’t feel the same and it totally ruins your relationship? He couldn’t burden you with something like that. 

“Hyung, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea-”, Jungkook started but Jimin quickly interjected.

“You can’t carry this burden forever. And Y/N deserves to know the truth. How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way if you don’t confess how you truly feel? You have to trust her.”

Jungkook understood what Jimin was getting to. His feelings were getting in the way of his relationship with you and Jimin. He had to tell you how he truly felt so he could finally let this burden go. 

He just hoped you felt the same way.

Jungkook didn’t say another word as he walked up to the dog hybrid and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. He was just glad that his relationship with Jimin could be salvaged. As vulnerable as he feels right now, it felt good for Jungkook to open up and have this talk.

“It’s going to be okay Kook”, Jimin reciprocated the younger man’s embrace, he’s grateful that Jungkook could be honest with him.

“I’m so sorry hyung for everything, I hope you can forgive me”, Jungkook felt guilty for making Jimin believe he did something wrong. He’s doesn’t deserve to have someone as kind and understanding as Jimin as a friend.

Jimin chuckled, patting Jungkook on the pat, he reassured him, “it’s ok Jungkook, I understand. That’s something hard to go through, especially when you bottle up those feelings and keep them to yourself. Everything’s gonna be ok.”

-

Jungkook’s been with a few girls here and there but his relationships never latest for more than a few dates. Not after they would find out about you. Of course, when the topic would inevitably come up, Jungkook always insisted that his relationship with you was strictly familiar. Most of the time, it would work in qwelling any relationship doubts but only temporarily. It was impossible to miss how Jungkook’s eyes would light up when you walked into the room, the attentiveness he displayed everytime you spoke, or the sweet smile and giggle he gave you when you said something funny.

Jungkook could feel himself start to feel nervous again as he fumbled with the front’s door to his apartment. Either you would awake and waiting for him (it’s a cute little habit of yours to always wait for him after work to greet him, no matter how late) or you would be snuggled up on the sofa fast asleep if you couldn’t suppress your sleepiness long enough to see him.

Jungkook finally opened the door only to be greeted to the sight of you quietly asleep on the softa. He felt his heart melt at how peaceful and gentle you looked snuggled up under the heavy pink blanket. Your face was just barely peeking out of the covers as was your favorite stuffed animal Cooky.

The conversation would have to wait until tomorrow.

Quickly locking the door behind him, Jungkook was quiet as he set his things away as to not to disturb your slumber. In times that you would fall asleep on the couch, you would wake up and find yourself in your room again. Jungkook moving you back to your bedroom the night before. As peaceful as you looked, Jungkook figured the couch probably wasn’t as comfortable as your mattress.

After Jungkook finished setting his things away, the first thing he did was pick you up as gently as possible from the couch. Being mindful of not making too much noise and making sure he brought Cooky with you, he swiftly moved you from the couch into your bedroom as if you weighed nothing. He’d get ready for bed after he moved you.

Jungkook had just set you down on your bed when he felt you stirring beneath him. Shit. He must have awoken you during the procress.

“Kook?”, you said in a voice heavy in sleep, “that you?”

“Yeah Bun, I’m just moving you”, Jungkook replied, almost whispering, “sorry for waking you, I’ll be leaving now, ‘kay?”

“Wait no, don’t go yet Kook”, you were fully awake now, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand in a weak attempt to get him to stay, “how was work?”

“It was great. Lots of clients”, Jungkook shrugged, moving to sit next to you on the bed, “you sure you don’t want me to leave so you could go to sleep baby?”

“Nah, I’m ok”, you replied with a shake of your head, “I’m fully awake now, see? Don’t worry ‘bout me. Why’d you come home so late? Was it really that busy today?”

“N-no. I just forgot some things at the parlor so I had to go back. Then me and Jimin talked for a bit about something important…”

“Oh?”, you sat up now, using your elbows to prop yourself up from the bed, “what about?”

Suddenly, the world started to feel like it was slowing down to a stop. Jungkook felt extremely vulnerable again under your curious gaze. Even more so than when he was with Jimin. He can’t recall if he ever felt as nervous and as clammy as he did right now. Can he really go through with this?

“Y/N…there’s something important that I’ve been meaning to tell you for awhile now but I never had the courage to say it.”

“Yeah?”, you fully sat up now, feeling your heart speed up now in anticipation at what Jungkook had to say, “what is it Kook?”

Jungkook sighed. Why did this have to be so difficult?

“Y/N, the reason why I stayed up so late was because I told Jimin the truth about how I felt. About that night between you and Jimin. About you.” 

Jungkook was gnawing at his bottom lip now, it was too late to go back now. He had your attention completely. He felt like a 12 year old boy confessing to his crush for the first time. His heart could burst out of his chest at any second now.

“The truth is”, Jungkook took a second to clear his throat before he continued, “I’ve loved you for a long time now. I’m in love with you and I know as an owner I shouldn’t feel- hmph”

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to Jungkook’s, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. It wasn’t lustful or needy but a delicate kiss. For a second, Jungkook froze. Your lips were softer than he had imagined. You two locked lips for what seemed like forever before you gently pulled away to properly respond to Jungkook’s confession.

“I’m happy to hear that Kook because for the longest time now, I’ve loved you too. I was also scared to tell you because I didn’t know if you felt the same or not. I didn’t want to make you feel awkward in your own home. To be honest, I’ve always tried to hide my feelings but I knew I couldn’t ignore them anymore when you brought another girl here for the first time. It was that client from your work, remember? I felt so jealous that I cried that night. I don’t think I can handle seeing you with anybody else.”

Was this really happening or were you still dreaming? Even if this was a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. Not yet.

Jungkook felt the massive pressure he had carried with him for so long just dissipate in an instant. It was just like all his worries and doubts had been flushed out of his system. You loved him back. Not just in a familiar sort of way but you were in love with him too.

“Ok, I won’t ever bring another girl home again, I promise.”

Jungkook couldn’t help himself but slowly smile at your cute confession of jealously, who knew you were so possessive?

“Kook, why didn’t you help me with my heat?”

Jungkook chewed at his lip again, not knowing how to best respond, “It just didn’t feel right for me as your owner and a human to use your natural instincts as an excuse to have sex with you. I just wanted to do what was best for you and so I fiigured finding you another hybrid as a partner would be the best course of action.”

“You wouldn’t have taken advantage of me Kook, I may be a hybrid but I have enough control to know what I’m doing”, you reassured Jungkook. You were finally glad to hear that Jungkook didn’t offer himself as a partner to you because he felt unsure of himself and not because he didn’t want to be your mate, “Jiminnie… he’s nice but…I wanted you to help me.”

“Hmm, is it too late for me to take care of my baby girl?”

Maybe it was low or the raspy tone in his voice, but his words immediately made you squirm.

Taking your hands in his larger ones, he brought your hand up to his face, tentatively leaving tender kisses on your fingertips. Its little actions like this that turned you into a pile of putty in front of him.  

“Mhm”, you inched closer to him, practically purring your next words, ”I mean, it’s not too late at all, please mate with me Kook.” 

You didn’t have to ask him twice, his lips were already back on yours at your command. Unlike your first kiss, this one quickly turned into one laced with pure lust. You moaned as you felt Jungkook’s tongue slip inside your own mouth before exploring everything he could.

Breaking the kiss, Jungkook leaned back and took a couple of seconds to take you in. Here you were, beneath him and in desperate need of his touch. Even in this state you were beautiful, your hair was fanned out, eyes glossy and heavy, and your lips were parted as you let out short breaths.

In Jungkook’s attempt to better re-adjust his position to where he was hovering above you, his rapidly inflating shaft had unintentionally made contact with your clothed pussy. You moaned as you felt him rapidly stiffening under your touch.

“What do you need from me baby?”, Jungkook’s voice was laced with pure lust, “No need to be shy now, I’m all yours.”

“Want you to touch me here”, taking his hand in yours, you trailed it down to your body right down to your cunt. Your wetness had soaked through the fabric and although you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you had surely left a huge stain.

You shuddered as you felt Jungkook’s larger hands finally reach the place you most wanted them.

“We just started and you already made a huge mess Bun”, Jungkook teased as he slipped his hand beneath the band of your panties. He could your slick immediately coat his fingers as he rubbed lazy circles around the sensitive flesh.

Before you could respond, Jungkook slipped his finger inside you. You were already so wet that the action brough no discomfort.

“Hngh”, you squimed at the sensation of Jungkook fully immersing a digit in you. Jungkook watched your face scrunch up in pleasure as he slipped yet another digit inside. Using his free thumb to rub small circles on your numb, Jungkook began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you. He curled them slightly to fuck you at a more pleasurable angle. He only had two digits in you and yet your cunt was already squeezing tightly around him. When he moved his fingers out, he could feel your pussy try to suck them back in.

“So tight around my fingers,” Jungkook spoke, moaning at his own words,”How are you gonna handle a cock stuffed inside you, baby?”

“Mhm, I c-can handle it.”

You suddenly felt Jungkook slip his fingers out of you, instantly letting out a whine at the loss of him inside you.

“Don’t worry bunny”, Jungkook laughed at your adorable whine, “we’re not done yet.”

Jungkook pulled back, now moving himself down your body to bring himself closer to your quivering core. He was pleased to find a huge wet stain decorating the front of your panties as he gently tugged you pajamas off of you. You lifted your hips slightly so Jungkook could fully remove your pajamas off of you. After discarding your pajamas somewhere on the floor, Jungkook leaned his face in to hover over where you desperately wanted him before placing a gentle kiss through the fabric.

Hooking his fingers on the sides of your panties, he slowly peeled the fabric off, taking every second of the view. Once again, you slightly lifted your hips to assit him with taking the wet fabric off. You shuddered as you felt the cool air hit your exposed core. 

As much as he wanted to take in more of the gorgeous view in front of him, Jungkook decided not to waste time any longer and lowered himself until his face was mere centimeters from your pussy. You smelled as divine as you looked. Tentatively, he placed another soft kiss on your folds before licking a strip.

You mewled at his actions, earning a hum of satisfaction from him. 

“That felt good huh baby?”, he chucked from in-between your legs. Slipping his hands beneath your thighs, Jungkook hoisted them over his shoulders to give himself better access to your clenching pussy. 

“Mhm, want more of it Kook”, you muttered breathlessly. 

Only this time, instead of going straight for your needy cunt, Jungkook opted for a bit more foreplay to prepare you. He placed a few more gentle kisses on the surrounding flesh of your core. Very gently, he bit and sucked on a few areas, leaving behind the faint marks of hickies in some places. 

“Kook, p-please”, you were practically muttering to yourself at this point. Diving your fingers down to your pussy, you parted your lips to show Jungkook exactly where you needed him, “touch me here.”

Jungkook chuckled at your needy request, “since my princess asked so nicely...”

He dove straight to your pussy, his mouth covering the slick flesh. Jungkook wasted no time in attacking your pussy with his tongue and lapped at the slick pouring out your wet hole. A wave of pleasure washed down your entire body. It’s like you were experiencing your heat all over again only this time Jungkook was the cure.

Jungkook’s free hand came down to rub gentle circles around your clit as his tongue continued it’s assault on your cunt. With just a few more laps, you came completely undone. Your thighs began to shake as you rode off your orgasm with Jungkook’s tongue still buried in your pussy. Jungkook ensured that not a single drop of your juices went to waste. 

With your orgasm fully washing over you, Jungkook pulled away to give you a few moments to let your body calm down. His hard cock was now digging through the fabric of his jeans and his balls heavy from neglect. Never had he given himself blue balls from a sight as beautiful as this before. Catching your breath again, you felt a vivid shade of pink dust your cheeks as you caught on to Jungkook’s dilemma.

Jungkook’s hard cock sprung out from his pants the instant he peeled them off. You moaned at the sight, your thighs instantly spreading a little farther as Jungkook wasted no time in getting inbetween your legs. He looked down at you with his pupils blown out in lust as he stroked his throbbing cock.

“Ready, baby?” You nodded furiously, almost forgetting your own voice. All you could focus on was Jungkook’s throbbing cock so close to your pussy. Jungkook took notice and decided that you suffered enough to keep teasing you. Hoisting your thighs and pulling you close to his lap, Jungkook proceeded to run the tip of his cock up and down your slit. You squirmed at the sensation, instinctively pushing yourself closer to what you needed. 

“So impatient”, Jungkook let out a small laugh, though truthfully, he himself couldn’t wait much longer. You felt the air in your lungs disappear as Jungkook gently slowly pushed the tip of cock inside you.

“F-fuck”, Jungkook grunted, bottoming completely inside you. Your walls were squeezing his cock deliciously but he resisted the urge to fuck you. You were clearly still trying to adjust to his size, your face cutely screwed up in a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort at Jungkook’s full size inside you.

Jungkook took a moment to drink in the beautiful sight of you beneath him, taking him in completely. It’s like you were made for him. 

The initial discomfort of Jungkook’s cock buried inside you was quickly fading into pure bliss. You started to wiggled your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock, desperate to find the relief you were looking for.

“Fuck, you know how fucking cute you are, right?”, Jungkook leaned down to peck your lips, “you’re so good for me.”

“M-move Kook, puh-please”, you stuttered, too far gone in the absolutely euphoria you were experiencing.

Taking your word, Jungkook began moving his hips in a steady rhythm. He too became increasingly more vocal the more he fucked you. He was entranced with the sight before him. Whether it was the way your breasts bounced with every thrust he made, the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of your tight pussy, or your face screwed up in pure bliss. He didn’t know where to look.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook, you too were just as entranced at the sight before you as he was. You don’t think you can ever get enough of the sight of Jungkook’s cock sliding in and out your cunt.

You racked your hands up Jungkook’s abs and chest before wrapping them around his neck, instantly pulling him a little closer to you.

You always admired Jungkook’s well defined abs, he had the physique of a greek god. You remembered the first time you caught a glimpse of his hard abs and how weak in the knees it made you. Jungkook had just come out of shower with only a pair of sweats on. You were in the living room, buried in a book when he strotted into the kitchen to grab a bottle water. You remembered blushing furiously as you tried to hide your face behind your book before he could catch you staring. Since then, you dreamt of feeling his abs beneath your fingertips.

Once again, you felt your breath hitched in your throat as Jungkook leaned his face only a few centimeters away from yours. He was now resting himself on his forearms from above you. Your heart was beating in your ears now from how close his face was to yours. You could feel his warm breath on your skin and you could count every eyelash as he fluttered

Catching you by surprise, Jungkook pressed his lips onto yours, snaking his tongue into your mouth. As he pulled away, a thin string of salivia connected you two.

“How could I have been such a fucking idiot to let another man have you like this?”

“M-mhm, no need to worry Kook”, as fucked out as you were right now, you managed to pull yourself together to give him a coherent reply, “a-am all yours..”

Jungkook felt his heart swell with pride in his own chest at your declaration, “and I yours, bunny.”

With each thrust hitting you in your sweet spot, you inched closer to that familiar sensation. Jungkook too could tell that you were getting close, evident by your pussy clenching more sporadically around his cock. Griping the sheets beneath you, you started babbling pleas and cries for more almost incoherently as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

Re-adjusting his position, Jungkook now sat up and griped your hips as he began fucking you faster and at a deeper position.

“C’mon, bunny”, Jungkook grunted, he too was unsure how much longer he’d be able to last, “Cream all over my cock.”

It was Jungkook’s words that finally edged you to your high. You felt your eyes squeeze shut as you screamed in pure bliss, muscles contracting as you finally felt the relief that your body had been begging for wash over you. 

It was a glorious sight, really, watching you lose yourself beneath him. You were milking his cock for all he was worth and he could feel himself start to lose himself as well. You could feel it too, his thrusts gradually becoming more shallow and losing their rthymtic pace. Locking your arms around his neck, you leaned forward to pepper kisses on his jawline.

“Come in me, Kook”, you whispered softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “wanna feel you.”

Not a second longer passed by and Jungkook’s warm seed was spilling inside you, filling you up completely. The world around you seemed to slow down and you drew dizzy at how full you felt in the moment.

Slowing down his pace to a stop, you felt Jungkook lay himself to rest behind you. Still partially buried inside your hole, he wrapped his arm around your tummy, pulling you snug to his chest. For a few moments, the two of you laid like this, just caught up in the moment and trying to catch each other's breath.

“You good now, bunny?”, Jungkook asked, finally breaking the silence. You replied with a hum of satisfaction, buring your head deeper in his chest, you could hear his rapidly beating heartbeat slow down a bit.

Feeling you relax beneath him, Jungkook slid his cock out from your trembling pussy. A conconation of his semen and your juices instantly squelching out. You whined at the loss of him and at the sensation of your juices running down your hole.

Grabbing a few tissues from the side of your bed, Jungkook lazily wiped both of you down as to not sully the bed further. Making a mental note to wash your sheets first thing in the morning. 

“Jungkook?”

“Yes Bun?”

“Don’t date those other girls anymore, ‘kay?”

Feeling himself melt at your cuteness, Jungkook chuckled before leaning down to kiss you on your forhead.

“Okay, promise I won’t. Not when I have you.”

[picklebunbun]

summary; You've had relationship problems with Ratio, even through your wedding preparations. You weren't even sure if you wanted to get married and you ultimately chose to leave him at the alter because you couldn't take it anymore

﹒🪼| ౨ৎ˚₊‧ | ↪ ; cw ; this is supposed to make you cry, implied? cheating?mentions of emotional relationship neglect, Dr. Ratio is upset in this one, everyone is invited except those stupid fucking losers (Jade and Sparkle), even idrilla is there

๋࣭ ⭑ Dr. Ratio x GN Reader, Modern AU, you/yours pronouns, you will be referred to spouse, no AGAB, reader doesn't specifically have a dress or suit but will be implied as a 'bride' { they walk down the aisle and wear white },

{ angel's notes 🪽; I know I've been gone for a long time, I just started freshman year and everything has been piling on, I'll try to make more updates with requests. This took way too long }

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıılıı.lllııılı.

now playing [fish.]

0:26 ———♡——— 3:50

◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷

italics; thinking | bold; yelling

Silence..

You stare at the stained window, you've been meaning to clean it for a while, but just couldn't find the motivation to do so. The candle by your bedside going out, as you stared at the window for what seems to be hours. Completely empty, eyes growing tired as you continue to patiently wait for your fiance ,

mm,,, no,, that word didn't feel quite right

What else are you supposed to call him anyways? You looked down, of course he did it again, he always does this, what's the point of getting married if you don't have enough time for your partner? If this is what commitment looks like,, then I don't want it

It seemed like the educated man was staying home from work, this always happens, what did you expect? It's not like the relationship was supposed to last this long, you weren't even sure if you wanted to get married in the first place, everything just happened too fast, like everything spiraled in one. Why was it in that moment that you felt so sure that this was the path you wanted to choose? Was it how lonely you were? Veritas wasn't a bad lover, but it would've been preferable if he didn't ignore them most of the time, which was because of work. The thing was , you suspected that there was this co-worker, that Ratio often spent time with, had this crush on him. It was this blonde man, with unbelievably beautiful eyes, flamboyant yet extravagant sense of style, he always smelt like a bakery, vanilla with a hint of floral essence. It definitely made you nervous, it was Aventurine, right?

You brought it up with the Greek man, to which he caressed your back and kissed your panic away. It's not like he's a terrible boyf... err.. fiance. He won't cheat, he's not that type of person. He just has a lot going on, that's why he's at work all the time.. but what if it's to see that shorter man, he could be his type, this is so surreal, I can't feel my face, what do I do? What do I do? I just want to go home..

This deep pit in your stomach became more evident as you..

..held him

Told him that you loved him

Kissed him

You put a hand over their mouth, a jittering feeling over-taking you as you felt more sick. Stop deceiving him like this, he's done so much for you, why can't you see that,

This hollow hole rested in your entire being, nothing had any color. In any moment, there could be an intruder and you wouldn't know, just too distracted by your thoughts swallowing them whole. You grasp for your greasy, unkept hair, been meaning to wash it for days but never got to it. Tears swell up as an air bubble gets lodged in the your throat, gasping for air as you try to get over your anxiety attack, neck feeling sore as you continue soaking in your tears. The room was spinning, it set in on how alone everything was, everything was feeling so uncomfortable now, nothing is correct anymore.

"someone help me.."

a meekly voice erupts,

but no one will hear you

The scenery was beautiful, a vibrant orange and purple sunset cascaded over the venue. It was at a ginormous church, freshly polished ivory walls, decorated with gold linings. The roof was painted with cherubs, faint but noticeable. Golden frames make sure to accentuate the oil painting of Mother Mary. An eccentric church, Dr. Ratio would've pegged it to be a catholic institution, to which, as always, he was correct.

Pillars centering towards the pink blossom archway. Herta was there as well, she just wanted to be there to judge everything rather than being emotional support, you looked at Dr. Ratio inspecting everything, he was always so meticulous about these types of buildings. From what you recalled, Veritas used to think that structures with a maximalist style always had something wrong with the actual structure, he always said that they try to hide something behind all the glamour. It was humiliating just looking at him, the priest and betrothed being exchanged glances as Veritas knocked on the girthy, stained glass. It was art of Jesus Christ with two divine servants at his feet, exquisitely crafted. It was just his way to see how thick and secure it was. The whole church must've taken at least 10 years straight to skillfully complete the entire establishment.

You dove your hands in your pockets. The frost biting at your reddening fingertips, fluffy snow covered the car by now, the weather was not suitable for a warm-welcoming wedding, but it was what Veritas wanted, so that is what he got. To be honest, you didn't really do anything for the planning, Ratio just told you to not worry about preparation and to relax, nothing really interesting these days. you can see the glistering, ivory slush on the exterior of the venue. Veritas' co=workers would think that this would be an immensely magnificent place, being tempted to touch everything.

"Veritas, I think the church is fine"

You sigh out, this was getting too awkward for you.

"Hold on, dear"

The woman in purple robes speaks up, talking to you.

"How much did you spend on this alone?"

"You should ask him, he's been the one doing all the planning"

"How come? You didn't want to be involved?"

"Eh,, it's not that, he just didn't want me to help him I guess"

"Did he not trust you?"

"N...no, it's not that, we just fought a lot about it"

"Is it because of the decorations? Did you not want a wedding?"

You feel throw up come up

"No, no, I do want to get married.."

"Are you sure? If I didn't know any better, I would've assumed that you didn't want to get married"

The porcelain soul giggled, and you gave a half-hearted one. You felt your heart sinking as well, remembering that you did indeed have to marry this man, is it too late to back out? That comment made you stare at the floor, nothing on your mind, it took you aback. You felt your muscles getting heavier with each passing second, it didn't help that every minute you spent at this idiotic place was excruciatingly painful.

You felt your nostrils flare from the rapid heating traveling to your face. The major migraine coming through as you re-play the recent scenarios through your head, flying off the handle. How irritating and bothersome,

Can he just hurry up?

Honestly. How long do I have to wait here for?

The church is completely fine!

Why is he being so dramatic!

This is getting so annoying.

JUST HURRY UP

Your fingers tapped the side of your thigh as your jaw clenches, it would've hurt if your weren't acting like a bear with a sore head. The sole of your shoes aggressively drummed against the polished, marble floors. The ache in your brain was getting worse, god, it was insufferable, just like Ratio's tedious need to check everything in place, it's like you can never win! An exasperated groan escaped your lips.

"Veritas, let's go."

"Hold on, [name]"

Seeming to not pay any mind to your tone, since he was basically measuring the elongated, wooden seats, he responded carelessly.

Oh, he's really in it now.

"Let's go."

"In a minute"

Oh my god?!

"Veritas."

"Just wait-"

you grind your teeth as your anger reaches a boiling point

"DAMN IT! RATIO"

His head whips back, pupils shrink as his eyelids widen. Herta looked at you, judgment coursing through her mind, seems like she wasn't all that surprised, but she still let out a little 'yikes'. You crossed your arms against your chest, you were gripping the sides of your arm sleeves, it felt like they were going to rip off. The echo from your shout faded into obscurity, it was the silence that followed after that seemed to be blaring in your ears. The immense space of the Lord’s house was what made your hollering almost deafening, it would be no surprise if outsiders could’ve heard you. Ratio waits for a second before finally getting up, not wanting to aggravate you even further. You see him dust off any soot that remained stuck on his pants, footsteps approach you, indicating that he’s coming closer, he begins to dubiously suggest to exit, whenever you blew a fuse, it was pretty effortless to lash out.

“Alright, then.. let’s go”

"You two can proceed without me, I'll remain here a while longer"

You lumber to the car, Veritas following behind you. Crunchy, thin layers of snow compressed under your foot. Blusterous winds coming at you, gnawing on your nose and cheeks, your thews were getting numb from the frost. Jesus, how do people live in this weather?! While walking, you took the chance to puff on your stinging hands, the numbness leaving your skin. Oh, how you long to place your hand over a fire, pyro flames crackling from the moisture escaping. Ash would be decorated around the fireplace, it give the comforting feeling that you're back home and never have to leave. The heat would engulf you, hugging you as it protects you from the cold. Not even massaging your upper arms would fully reheat you back, Mother Nature was not gentle this season, attacking outsiders vigorously.

Creased brows adorned Veritas' face, a dip was shown between his eyebrows. His crossed arms and the needless stomping of his feet made it apparent that he was getting exacerbated by the previous predicament. The Greek man's upper half was lunging towards the driver's seat. Ratio used to hold the door for you, it was his way of being polite, you would be lying if you didn't have a soft spot for that tiny habit of his, it'd touch your heart. Although, now, he didn't do it,

The audacity..!

Does he know how he already treats me?

And he's the angry one?

Stop throwing a tantrum Ratio.

Ignoring how you behaved wouldn't make you feel better, but you were just so pent up from Veritas' emotional neglect and the constant worrying about that colleague, especially since he's so flirtatious with him.

Agh! It was so distressing just seeing them together,

I just want to wipe that smug look off his face,

worse part is, Ratio invited him to the wedding,

I told him that he makes me uneasy,

I know he's trying to steal Ratio,

why can't he just listen to me?!

You were getting furious again, the way you slammed the car could've made it obvious enough. You two were truly a match made in heaven to be worked up at the same time. Huffing and puffing in your seats while you two look straight ahead, the scorching temperature in your coat along with the feverishness from your wrathful attitude made it unbearable to stay still, it felt like your skin was being pricked with blazing needles. The tension between you two was so thick that you could cut it with a knife, only god knows how this is going to go down.

" What. Was. That."

You mentally sigh,

"How do you mean?"

"The minor altercation you had esteemed with me at the church—might there be a particular rationale for your current discontent, manifesting in such unseemly volumes directed at me?"

"I.. just wanted to go home"

"Are you so pessimistic as to raise your voice in my presence? I think not."

"Ugh.. I don't want to have this conversation with you.."

"You were quite insistent in having vociferously summoned my attention."

"That's because I didn't feel well and wanted to go home!"

"Might you kindly elucidate the matter that troubles you, or shall you indulge in yet another of your temper tantrums?"

"Why are you this agitated about the fact that I asked if we could go?!"

"Screech not asked."

You shriek in rage, you shuffled in your seat as fire boils up to your cheeks. Sweat beads down your forehead from how overwhelmed you were.

"This epitomizes my point, you have retreated like an infant."

"You keep badgering me expecting an answer but sometimes I just don't want to respond because you have this urge to insult me for how I feel!"

"Such a predicament could have been averted had you communicated with me."

"Ratio! You barely have the time to actually listen, it's like I have to beg you to do it! Even when you do, you NEVER listen You're focused on work and not the wedding, which I originally wanted to help with by the way! You're focused on that slutty, blonde co-worker of yours more than your own future spouse, huh?!"

"Aventurine?! Shall we PERSIST in this discourse? I have conveyed to you that there is no intimate relationship between us. What further assurances do you seek? Am I unable to indulge your desires ?!"

"Why are you acting like it's an issue to comfort me?!"

"It's like I constantly have to console you, it never ends with you!"

"Are you kidding me?! Do you know how Aventurine looks at you, oh my Aeons, Veritas! It's like he's eye-fucking you right in front of me!"

"No he doesn't, this is what you do, you blow everything out of proportion, what is happening with you?!"

"Oh, I'm sure you don't know how I feel because you're too busy spending time with that HOMEWRECKER"

"Stop criticizing him with high-school insults , you're acting like a toddler, [Name]!"

"I can't even believe this, you won't ask why I've been changing but you'll immediately point how how I'm complaining about that blonde bimbo?! Do you even care?!"

"Of course I care, but you insulting my dearest friend won't make you feel better"

dearest friend?!

"Really?! Dearest friend?! HAH! Don't make me laugh!"

"Do you want me to brag about you all the time?! Is that what this is?!"

"You sure as hell don't have a problem talking about Aventurine!"

"DEFENDING him is not the same as complimenting"

"All this time we've been arguing, never ONCE have you mentioned how alone I feel, you've just been focused on that whore!"

"Because I don't know what you want me to say, what more can I do, I can't fix your insecurities for you!"

"I'm not asking you to, I just want you to be there for me!"

" There's always something with you, sometimes it's just draining being with you. I just wish for once you could stop dragging everyone down with you, you've become ill, I can't even recognize you! You just spew ignorance just from this conversation!"

...

Your breath hitches, this sense of betrayal hunches over you. Your voice gets caught in your throat, heart pounding as you could hear it thunderously breaking out of your chest. It's like your consciousness was detached from your whole body, you could feel the water works were coming to you. No control over what your brain decides to do, and you feel pain in your hit you square in the gut, no, he was hitting you in the gut. The utter cruelness you had to reach in order to tell your fiance off because they were discussing their feelings was astounding. Oh, how you wish that you could go back to the espresso scented mornings, and shared baths. Why did everything have to turn out this way,

Why did I have to make it this way

Voice shrill as you accidentally let out a tiny cry. You turn your head to view the car window. The sight was not pleasant, it's an eyesore looking at broken down, rusty cars being trapped in snow. Wore down tires stuck to the road from the frost. and beaten-in dents really accentuated how crappy the car is. The ugliest thing by far were the moldy plazas, the signs were growing mysterious brown stains, it looks like it hasn't cleaned in years.

You could feel Veritas' eyes burning in the back o your skull, the worst feeling is knowing that someone's blue in the face by how your coming off, and the most wretched thing about it is that you know that it's most likely entirely your fault.

Hot teardrops run down your cheeks, trying to simultaneously brush them away with your sleeve. It's not like Ratio would reassure you, whenever you end up crying after an argument, he doesn't. He always said how you brought it upon yourself, that you shouldn't have tried to verbally brawl with him if you were going to end up wailing.

I wish I could call mom right now..

"Are you going to call your mother like you always do?"

He deeply exhales at your foolishness,

You look back at him, a glare goes right for him, your eyes were puffy from how your water blobs overpower your eyes' the drainage system. The hell is wrong with this man?

"None of your business."

"That's what you always do anyways I don't even need to ask."

"To hell with you, it must be nice thinking you've won this dispute, everything is just a competition to you, even your own fiance's feelings."

You breathe out a mini "asshole", the ferocity of your anger was shown from how brutally you shut the car door.

..

This was all a mistake

You weren't supposed to marry him yet

but you can't back out now

what a nasty man...

No no no no no no no no no no no nononononononononono...

It's gone

It's completely gone

I lost it

nonononononononononononononononoNONONONONONO

You were pacing around the room, there was this beautiful golden necklace that disappeared, a thick Singaporean necklace which was plated in diamonds. The center of it all was a beautiful... jade or aventurine gem, You prayed to god that it wasn't an aventurine gem. Despite that, it fit with the jewelry nicely, reflective and a stunning little thing. It was a grim couple of weeks, After that squabble with Veritas, you broke down, it was the late night fretting that really got to you. Fly-aways in your hair became worse, and it was getting really tiring to untangle it every time, it feels like you have to battle with it just to keep it mildly tame.

You placed both your hands on your heartbeat, you couldn't believe this, how did you lose such a treasure in such a short amount of seconds. You've checked EVERYWHERE, under the couch placed in the dressing room, the vanity, the bathroom, behind the potted plants, but nothing. Oh, Aeons, this is the worse, you idiot! how did you lose it this quickly!

Damn it, Ratio is not going to let you hear the end of it

Desperately looking for a sign, something to give you a hint to where it is.

Aeons, please help me..

You've been ready for quite a while, but it was just that one piece that was missing..

AND IT WAS THAT STUPID NECKLACE!

You stumble back, your back calf bumping into the stool seat. You're fingers ravels across your whole face. Is it just you, or is the air getting harder to respire in. Heat flashes overtake you as your blood runs cold. You can hear yourself hyperventilating, wheezes escaping your mouth as you attempt to tranquil yourself. It was hard to exhale in general, each time you felt a puff wander up your esophagus, a sharp, sore pain pricks your nerves. Sweat enclose on your whole body from head to toe, your skin feels extremely sticky, smelling your incredibly slicked hair just from the moisture.

Exceedingly shaky hands try to reach for your ice cold water, contrasting with your heating hands. When the frigid glass met your skin, it startled you, causing you to immediately drop your cup on instinct. Fresh water spilling everywhere, covering decoration pieces and the spotless, clear mirror. You internally curse yourself out before you scream it out,

"SHIT!"

This dramatic gasp was hear, it was you. You try to wipe the water on your expensive outfit, but decided against it. Your enchanting outfit was hand-crafted by Tingyun herself, and she clearly stated that your ivory, platinum attire should not get wet as it would ruin the material. Not really remembering anything after that, all that your brain could muster up was the fox lady making operatic gestures on how absolutely "dangerous" it is to drench the clothing with any fluid.

You can not take that possible risk and ruin the matrimony any longer. This day was just splendid, you have nowhere to wipe your soaked hands, you lost your (almost) husband's vital necklace, and now you're sniffling from the fact that you're about to cry. This day was a mess- no.. maybe it was a sign being wedded was not the ideal situation for your destiny.

I just can't take this anymore,

my makeup is going to get ruined

Aventurine is here

I can't find that damn adornment

I spilt water

I'm just a complete mess..

I.. can't do this anymore..

The trickles of a familiar saline liquid fall down your lashes. Restrained sobs flee from your grasp as you try to stay quiet. Your chest rapidly went up and down, hoping to still your breath, but it didn't work-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

AAAAHHHHHHH WHAT THE FUCK!

You shout

"AH!-"

"[Name]? It's Topaz!"

"Uhm- and Aventurine.."

You grimaced just by the mention of his name,

"Ack! Whatever, are you okay, sweetie?"

"Yeah, we heard you crying"

As if you'd fucking care!

"em.. uh.. yeah.. I'm.. okay.."

It got muted, everything was serene. It gives you a chance to catch your breath and tranquilize your state of mind. You view your trembling hands that wouldn't settle themselves. Perturbed eyes that got more damaged from the high concentration of salt.

"[Name]."

"Yeah..?"

"Please don't lie to me"

...

"Sorry... You guys can come in"

You swiftly swab away your tears, nose sniffling. Your throat felt sticky with the mucus covering it. This uncontrollable throbbing pain was getting more apparent, it was vague but you could still undoubtedly feel it. The blaring illumination from the vanity mirror was just making it worse. It's like a hangover, maddening and agonizing, you have to wait all day until the bothersome migraine flees away.

The door creaks open, this sudden pain shoots through your ears and brain from the mosquito-like noise. Topaz was wearing this beautiful silk dress, flashy but sophisticated, gleaming gold arches on her dress are placed on her rib area. this exquisitely detailed pendant was connected to a shiny, band on her neck. It was all decorated in a French-style.

Topaz had this uneased expression on her face, she rushed her way towards you. The woman didn't have time to pull up a chair, her friend was in distress, and as a bridesmaid, she was determined to drop everything to aid you. Her manicured hand rests on your cheek, it's soft, and strangely comforting.

Aventurine, on the other hand, was standing near the doorway. He had this floral embroidered waistcoat, it was a dusty pink, damn he looked good. Under the vest, a puffy, Ouji dress shirt fit nicely with the rest of the outfit. It was a pristine, pale color, everything about his attire just screamed polished. Reflective, blonde locks were ornamented with blooming hairpieces.

"What happened? Are you nervous about the wedding? Oh, I'm sure Dr. Ratio will think your absolutely gorgeous-"

"-No.. no.. no, it's just that.. I lost this stupid necklace that Veritas gave me. I can't find it anywhere, and I'm scared that he'll get mad at me.."

Topaz and Aventurine exchanged troubled glances.

"Ah... well.. uhm, I'm sure he won't get mad!"

Easy for you to say!

"He'll only get mad if you don't tell him early on"

Oh, I'm sure you'd know, Aventurine.

"Right! We should tell him now!"

..What

"W.. What?! No!"

"Don't worry it'll be fine! If you tell him right now then you won't have to worry after! I'll be back!"

"Wait! Topaz!"

You reach out to pull her back, but her wrist disappears before you can even touch it. Topaz picks a bit of her dress up so her heels wouldn't trap it, it was a floor-length, dark, barbie pink, it was also provided by Tingyun, for free at that.

There was this mortified look on your face, your eyelids were expansive. The world was crumbling right before you, ready to get faced with Veritas' disastrous fury. Lava would be swarming over you if he found out, Aeons, he'd be so inflamed with you.

My life is so over.

Your heart was going up your esophagus, you can feel it pulsing with all it's power. Your organs can feel the impending doom coming up, your stomach was bubbling, your lungs were rapidly gasping for air, your brain was panicking, all these scenarios were running through your head.

Your head was down, you can't even look at him, you'd just turn into a pitiful goop on the floor, stuck to it for eternity. Aventurine was still in the room, unsure of what to do. He had the idea that you did despise the very existence of him, so he wasn't sure if he should even dab your skin with his velvet glove.

You hear heels clacking

she's coming back, and with Ratio, you presume

Oh no

Are you going to vomit or burp

Either way something's coming up

"Topaz, what was so urgent that you had to rush me over to my future spouse's dressing room"

?

huh.. ?

"It's just something important!"

You can hear a snort come up, it seemed to be Aventurine.

What's so funny, Aventurine.

"What's so funny, Aventurine?"

"Just the new 'sunglasses' you have, they really fit you, Doctor~"

He purrs at Dr. Ratio, what the hell is wrong with him?!

He's basically making ou- wait what? Sunglasses?

You pick your head up

what the?!

There it was, Topaz, on her tippy toes, her hands barely reaching his eyebrows. Her whole body was strained just to cover his eyes. It seemed like Ratio had to bend his knees a bit just so she had an easier time.

"Topaz, please uncover my eyes"

"No can do! You can't see them before the wedding, it's bad luck!"

I think this whole ceremony is an indication of bad luck

You hear Veritas sigh

"What's the problem that was so critical for me to hear"

Topaz gestures for you to say it, her eyes beaming bright, and a supportive smile dousing her lips.

uhm..

"Uh.. uhm.."

"Hm?"

"Uhm.."

...

"I might've lost the necklace you gave me..."

"Dear, I can't hear you if you speak so quietly"

"I.. lost the necklace.."

"What?"

"I lost the.. necklace you gave me..:

"."

...

"Excuse me?"

Ouhhh....

"I.. uhm.."

"What is wrong with you?! Do you just lose everything that I give you?!"

Your head immediately perks up to look at him.

"It was just a-"

"[Name], I give you a necklace ESPECIALLY for YOU to wear. How. Do. You. Lose. It."

"I did have it, you don't have to yell at me!"

"CLEARLY, not since you just somehow lost it, how insolent do you have to be"

"ok, Doctor-"

"Not now, Aventurine."

"You make enough money to buy a second one, It's not like I lost it on purpose!"

"It's not that, it's the fact that you're so FORGETFUL that you just misplace ANYTHING I give you. You have to be more responsible I can't KEEP HOLDING YOUR HAND"

"STOP YELLING AT ME"

The Doctor rips Topaz's hands of his face

"Ratio!-"

"It seems that you didn't lose your phone, what? Are you gonna call your mom again?!"

"Why do you keep bringing her up?!"

"Because, you ALWAYS RUN from your problems"

"I DON'T RUN, YOU'RE JUST NEVER THERE"

"THIS AGAIN, HONESTLY, STOP ACTING LIKE A CHILD"

...

"..."

".. I'm going back, get ready."

"..."

You can hear his formal, polish, black leather shoes tromp on the floor, and even louder was the thunderclap following the door slam. You flinched, now hyper-aware of everything, it's like your lungs were feebly inhaling, hands cupped up as they were placed upon your chest. Little sharp coughs release the ache in your throat walls, a corrosive feeling in your eyes weren't as tormenting as the images of Ratio's expressively wrathful face.

Low sobs were getting muffled from the seclusion of your hands. Your back was hunched, legs pressed together tightly, like sardines. It's like someone punched the air right out of you, making it difficult to breathe through your blubbering, messy breakdown.

"Oh, geez, uhm- here, [Name]"

You could hear Topaz's fancy heels making their way towards you. She lifts your head up and leisurely wipes your tears away with a soft, cotton tissue.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be okay. He's just stressed because it's his big day. Before you know it, everything will end up perfect, this is just a little hiccup, you'll be okay"

"Oh, shoot.. make sure their make-up doesn't get ruined.."

Aventurine makes his way over to you, he dabs your cheeks with his finger to fix your blush.

"You look so beautiful, [Name]"

"Yeah, Ratio will realize how pretty you are"

"Hey, do you think the church would know if a cherub figure was missing?"

"Depends on how big it is"

"It's pretty tiny, it so pretty though, I just want to snatch it up!"

muffled

..

Aeons, they're so annoying

Could you just stop talking

Stop touching my face.

Stop touching my hair.

Stop it,

Stop it, stop it,

StopstopstopstopstopstopstopstOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP IT STOP IT I DON'T LIKE THIS

"CAN YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

The duo's hands abruptly pause. trembling hands reach your face, feeling your wet cheeks, Your whole body was shuddering from the aggravation coursing through your body. You can feel your entire head tottering uncontrollably, hot flashes coming in and out.

"Wh-"

"I just can't,,,- do this anymore!"

You shove their hands away as you rose up from your seat, your leg bulldozing the seat out of the way, almost tripping on the way to the bathroom.

"Wait! Are-"

SLAM

...

Wedding bells ring, piercing through your ears. This church was aged, the bells were still intact, the workers were taking special care of this long-lived building. It was a truly magnificent venue, as elegant as Dr. Ratio, or, at least his tastes. The perfume of the bouquet was infiltrating your nostrils,

EVERYONE was invited, even idrila, which was who Argenti was looking for, anyone could see that rose-headed knight searching around. His armor was getting noisy, irritating the guests. Topaz was a bridesmaid, and Screwllum was the best man, right by the groom's side. Clara was the most excited, other than Ratio, she was a flower girl. Pink, sparkly, blossoming mini-heels, they weren't the cheap princess ones that toddlers usually get for their birthday party, but instead made of the most intricate crystals. Her dress was completely pink with a blinging gemstone tiara to match her curly up-do.

It was a full house, something that made you nervous. You didn't feel your best, or looked your best, this contagious feeling of suspense was pulling you back. Oh no, this isn't what you wanted, this isn't what you should have.

You found the damned necklace, you should be thrilled that you discovered it. You should be cheerful that you're going to finally marry this man.

You should be..

But you're not.

You were devoid of any happiness, the sight of his face makes you sick. Even worse, the sight of him with that enchantress makes you get more ill. Veritas isn't the right one, you should've said something a long time ago.

Your legs unconsciously move back,

You have to walk the aisle

Oh Aeons, the music's starting

You have to stay

No

You have to move, this isn't how you'll live you're life

You don't deserve this anymore

Move

MOVE

All of a sudden, The carnations and roses got launched on the floor, the petals falling off. Such exquisiteness shouldn't merit such treatment, but neither should you. Your back slouched, like someone gagging over a sink, knees buckled. Sweat beading in your forehead, hands vigorously gripping that stupid necklace.

Diamonds falling everywhere, little thuds appearing on the red carpet.

..

Veritas' huffed out some frustration, fixing his collar. Today was supposed to be perfect, but he ruined it by squalling at his fiance. How stupid could he honestly be, it was really just a necklace, not even a valuable heirloom. He had to confess, he was a little tense from the amount of people present. Ratio was never the uneasy one, it was usually you, he just spewed pride, whether it was his intelligence or his body. Even worse, you were most likely disturbed from how he treated you.

He mentally facepalms himself from how idiotic he was being. The Grecian has noticed your deteriorating psychological state, he shouldn't have triggered it any longer.

The man noticed everyone rubbing their arms, he should've turned on the heater. It was terribly frigid, icicles could form inside the church if they wanted to. Normally, Veritas wouldn't even notice how chilly it was, always setting the thermostat 60 or below. You used to reprimand him, complaining about that he lives with another person and how he should stop changing it to a frosty temperature.

However, he was amazingly stubborn, so he continued doing it. In the winter, it was a nuisance to deal with. It was so fatiguing tackling the heavy snow and dense ice off your tires so your car could move, and it was worse coming home to a house that was the same degree as Antarctica.

Silly bickers would arise from it, but no matter how many disputes you two had, it seemed that the scholar would rather that than even consider raising the thermostat. It's not like it was that alone

Every single time, his hardheadedness got the best of him, and he'd only be left with nobody but himself

Dr. Ratio saw how queasy Topaz and Aventurine were. First of all, the blonde man was rubbing his neck and keep messing with his watch, Topaz eyes darted everywhere, she tapped her foot on the ground rapidly.

Huh, it seems like the ceremony was about to begin

Ratio fixed himself up as much as he could.

,,,

It seemed like you were a little late.

.

..

...

Uh..

Everyone immediately looked at the man.

The worst was true to come.

You weren't there.

He looks at Topaz,

She looks back, a petrified look appears on her face,

He looks at Aventurine,

This surprised look appears on his face.

Oh no,

Ratio finally realized

..

You were gone

and so was your mother.

,,

A few gasps were heard, everyone knew what happened

Veritas rushes behind the marble doors, it was extreme in weight, but no match for Ratio

..

All he saw, was a broken necklace and a destroyed bouquet on the floor.

[elliezato]

❀˙⋆Summer With You⋆˙❀

Pairing: Ellie x Reader

-Modern au!

Summary: You and your friends decide to rent out a cabin on the beach over the summer. This was your last summer before leaving for college, so you wanted to make it memorable. This summer was going to be perfect. You spent your days in the water, taking In the moments in the sun with your friends.

It didn't take long for you to realize your feelings for your best friend Ellie.

The way her wet hair drips down her shoulders as she gets out of the water. The way her fingers strum the guitar as you gather around the fire. The way the stars light her eyes during late night swims. The way her smile grows when she’s with her girlfriend… It's all too much.

Will these feelings ruin your friendship and the whole summer? What will happen when it's time to leave Ellie behind for college?

Word Count: 4.4k

⋆˚✿˖°

a/n: Im back!! I've been in the summer mood recently and I just need to be laying out by the lake rn. I recently read "SYNS" by carmellie and was inspired to make this! I've really been wanting to write a slow burn, angst fic so I hope this turns out good.

I will probably split this story into a few parts depending on how long I want this to be.

This will be my first real fic because honestly I've only written smut in the past and I'm not sure if I like writing stuff like that. I might add a little bit of it every now and then in my stories but it's not something I want to continue to write.

Anyway, I'm super exited for this story! Please give me ideas for future chapters! I love to hear feedback on how to improve or what you guys like.

----------------------------------------------------------

Packing your bag was the only thing you weren't looking forward to doing on this trip. You always over packed and struggled to fit everything in your bags. Clothes and shoes were thrown all over your room as you pick out what you should pack. This trip is going to be 2 months long so you need enough clothes to last through the summer but not too much that your car will be over flowing.

"Eww, do not bring that" Dina says in disgust as you hold up an old one piece bathing suit from freshmen year.

You knew she was right, but you didn't have many options when It came to bathing suits. You packed it anyway, along with some other suits from the previous summer. The sun shined through your window, lighting up the room. It was almost noon and you needed to leave soon. The drive to the cabin would take the majority of the day so there wasn't much time to waste.

Dina helped you load your car with your bags. There wasn't a lot of room in the trunk but you two made it work. You slam the truck shut, making sure it wouldn't pop open from all the clothes. Your parents hug you goodbye in your drive way as you and Dina get ready to leave.

You get into your car and put the top of your convertible down. The breeze felt nice in your hair as you drove off. Music plays as you sing your heart out. This was going to be a good trip, you could feel it. Dina pulls out her digital camera and snaps a pic of you driving as your hair blows in the wind. Your sun glasses reflect the trees lining the road.

It's been a long time since you've been on a nice trip. Let alone with all your friends. Nerves start to build as you get closer to the cabin. Ellie and Jesse were supposed to meet you there. Recently it's been awkward with Ellie. Usually you two could talk for hours and spend every second together but things have been different.

⋆˚✿˖°

You noticed this sudden shift in your friendship during one of your sleepovers a few months ago. Ellie was sitting on the floor of your bedroom while you were getting ready for bed. She starts going on a rant about this girl she's been thinking about asking out. You don't know what happened but in that moment you felt this strange rage fill in your heart.

Ellie has always been open about girls she finds attractive but she's never made any moves. The thought of your best friend dating another girl upset you for some reason. You've never felt this before and decided to just let it go.

"She so pretty y/n! Like I really think I'm going to make my move" Ellie scrolls on her phone as she talks to you.

You look into the mirror while washing the rest of the soap off your face. "Go for it Els, you could probably pull anyone"

"Yeah, I know" Ellie says sarcastically, now putting down her phone.

She walks over to you and meets your gaze in the reflection on the bathroom mirror. Your eyes revert down to the counter. For some reason you felt your body tremble as she got closer. You couldn't understand why you were acting like this. You've known Ellie your whole life and never saw her as anything other than your best friend.

She picks up her toothbrush and you leave the bathroom. You lay in bed waiting for Ellie to finish in the bathroom. She noticed the sudden change in your demeanor. After a few minutes your friend turns off the lights and lays nexts to you in bed.

"You ok?" Ellie turns to look at you. Her hand rubs up and down your arm.

"Yeah, Im just tired" You lied. You were wide awake but the thoughts of Ellie swarmed your mind.

Things have been like this ever since then. Every time you guys hung out, you two always end up in awkward situations. You hated the fact that things felt like this. You almost convinced yourself that maybe your friendship isn't as strong and it use to be. Maybe you two are drifing apart. You prayed that this wasn't the case but it was the only logical way to explain the distance between you two.

⋆˚✿˖°

"Can we pull over? I have to pee and Im starving" Dina throws her head back into the seat.

"Yeah, I need to get gas anyway" You pull into a gas station and Dina runs in as you follow shortly behind her.

The area was very unfamiliar. There wasn't many people around. You walk inside the convince store and pick out a few snacks and your friend finishes up in the bathroom. You look over to pick out what you want and see a package of watermelon sour patch kids. These were Ellie's favorite. You guys use to walk to the gas station when you were younger and eat these on the curb in the summer heat.

You pick up two bags, one for yourself and one to give Ellie when you see her later tonight. Dina grabs her snacks and you pay. You quickly fill up your tank and get back onto the road. You put the top of your conferable back up now that it's getting darker and the air is cooling down.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Dina slept as you listed to music softly. Superache by Conan filled the car as your mind thought about Ellie. She was all you could think about for the rest of the drive. You were excited to see her, hoping she felt the same.

A few hours later you pull into the driveway of the cabin. You looked at the familiar car already in front of you.

"It looks like they're already here" You nudge Dina, trying to wake her.

You text the group chat, letting your friends know you arrived. As you get out of the car to help unload all your bags you hear your name being called out from a small distance. You look up and see Ellie and Jesse walking towards you to greet you and help with the bags.

"Y/N!! You guys took long enough." Ellie pulls you into a tight hug and then turns to Dina to welcome her.

Your eyes were glued to Ellie. She was dressed in a pair of jorts that ended a few inches above her knees. Her shirt displayed the album cover of her favorite band she took you to see last semester. She wore her old converse that probably need to be replaced sometime soon.

You guys walk into the cabin with all the bags. It was beautiful. Trees surround the land and fireflies lit up every now and then around the house. You could see a glimpse of the ocean from the front. You walk into the cabin and place your bags onto the floor.

"You guys have to see the view!" Ellie grabs your wrist to bring you to the backyard.

Dina and Jesse followed as Ellie opened the backdoor for everyone. As she opened the door you were met with the view of the beach in the distance. Lanterns lit the path leading down to a fire pit. Lights were strung across the yard, lighting up every inch. You closed your eyes and listened to the waves crashing in the distance and the bugs humming from the trees.

"Holy shit. This is insane!" Your eyes light up thinking about all the memories that are about to be made here.

"Lets go down to the beach!" Jesse says as he's already sprinting down to the sand.

"I'll be there in a minute, Im going to change into a bathing suit." You begin to walk back inside until you feel a tug on your arm.

"Come onnnn!" Ellie drags you down to the beach with everyone else.

There wasn't anyone on the beach. It was more of a reserved area for residents only. You kick off your shoes as you stumble down to the water. You watch as your friends run into the waves laughing and taking in the moment. Ellie looks over at you from the water smiling, motioning you to come in. You roll your eyes and walk into the water. It was oddly warm. You cringe at the fact you're still dressed in your clothes from the drive here.

You suddenly gasp as you feel yourself getting pushed into the water. "Hey!" You sit as waves crash over you.

Ellie looks down at you and laughs but it doesn't last long before Jesse pushes her in. "What the fuck!"

You're now laughing at the sight of her drenched in the water. She grabs your hand and helps you up as you two are now dripping wet. You look up and notice how bright the stars are here. Back home you can barely see the stars. The city isn't the best place for star gazing. You can feel your body start to shiver.

The wet cloths that cling to your body get colder by each second. Ellie notices and pulls you close. "Lets go back up and change"

You take your bag of clothes and bring it it your room. Your eyes widen when you realize the room you were sharing with Ellie only has one bed. You don't understand why you're in shock. You've shared a bed with Ellie many times in your life but for some reason you felt weird about it.

"Nice right?" She says as she walks past you into the room.

The room was nice. It was open and had big windows looking out to the ocean. You place your bags down next to the bed and pull out a pair of pjs. You feel her eyes on you as you walk to the bathroom to shower and change for the night.

You take your time getting unready. Turing on the shower as you slip out of your wet clothes. The water is hot and feels nice against your shivering skin. Fingers run through your scalp as you wash out the salty water, tasting it on your lips as it washes over your face.

You dry off your body and put on fresh clothes. You throw your wet hair up into a towel as you wash your face. As you exit the bathroom you notice Ellie is no longer in the room. You walk downstairs to the kitchen to see all your friends sitting at the island laughing.

"Were ordered pizza, I hope that's fine" Dina says smiling, then returning to her conversation

"Im literally starving, I could fuck up some pizza right now" You say as you sit and join them at the island.

"I think Cat is going to join us for a week. She's supposed to be here next Saturday" Ellie looks at you waiting for a reaction.

You immediately feel a frown forming on your face. You hated Cat. You hated how she practically stole Ellie from you, and now she's coming on your trip!? Ever since Ellie made her move on Cat they've been inseparable. She never referred to Cat as her girlfriend but you knew it was coming. The way Ellie looks at her. It hurts. You figured it was just because she doesn't spend all her time with you anymore. Maybe you're just jealous that Ellie's time is being taken up by someone else.

You were looking forward to spending time with Ellie on this trip and now she's inventing Cat? You felt your heart drop at the thought of Ellie spending the next week with her.

"That's exciting" You say as you force a smile but it's clear your upset.

Suddenly there's a knock at the door. "That's probably the pizza" Jesse gets up and walks to the front door.

You make your way over to the living room with a box of pizza in your hands. You place the box down on the coffee table next to the other boxes. Ellie hands you a glass of water as she takes a seat next to you on the couch.

"What movie are we watching?" You feel Ellie's body shift next to you as she grabs the remote to scroll through the options.

"Want to rewatch Bottoms? I don't think Dina or Jesse have seen it yet."

"YES!" She searches up the movie and hits rent without any hesitation.

⋆˚✿˖°

The night was nice. You rested your head on Ellies shoulder as you watch the movie. The boxes of pizza are practically empty except for the left over crust from Ellie that she refuses to eat. The movie was almost over and you could feel your eyes getting tired. You've already seen this move a million times so you decided to go ahead and go to bed.

"Where are you going" Ellie looks up at you as you remove yourself from her arms.

"Im going to head up to bed. Im tired from driving all day. I'll see you guys in the morning" You smile and say goodnight to Jesse and Dina.

"Okay, goodnight! I'll be up there right when the movie ends." She gives you a soft smile in return.

The bed was comfortable. It was easy to get settled in as you wait for Ellie's presence. Your eyes close as you wait for her. You could feel yourself drifting off until you hear the sound of the door opening. Your body turns towards the door and you open your eyes to see Ellie walking into the room.

"Sorry, did I wake you up" She quietly closes the door.

"No, I was still up." You watch as she pulls out her toothbrush from her bag and walks to the bathroom.

She eventually joins you in bed. Her body was close. You could feel her settling into the mattress. The widow was slightly open, allowing the sound of the waves crashing to fill the room. The fan kept the room at a cool temperature as you pull the covers higher up your body.

"Do you like Cat" Ellie breaks the silence and turns to face you in the bed waiting for a response.

Her face was close. You could feel her gentle breath on your cheeks as she waited for you to answer. You knew you couldn't tell her the truth. She's your best friend. There's no reason for you dislike Cat, but you did, but you couldn't tell her that.

"Yeah. Why?" Your response was cold and blunt.

"You just always change the subject when I bring her up or you just seem to always get upset." She frowns. "I just really want you to like her because I think I'm going to make things official with her."

You almost was to cry when you hear those words come out of her mouth. Your heart aches. You knew this was coming but you prayed it wouldn't happen. You wished things would fall through between them. You hated that you felt this way. You wanted Ellie to be happy. You really did but you've been letting your emotions get in the way.

"Do whatever you want Ellie" You turn to face the opposite way. You didn't mean for your response to come out as harsh as it did, but it was too late.

"This is exactly what I was talking about. I don't understand why you're being like this" Her voice is harsh. "Ever since I told you about Cat you've been so distant. I don't know why you're being like this but clearly you need space."

You feel her get up from the bed. "Where are you going?" You sit up and look at her.

"Giving you space. You obviously are upset with me and I don't know why." She gets up and leaves the room.

You lay back down on your back as the tears that formed in your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks. Her words stung but she was right. You feel bad for being so short with Ellie, she doesn't deserve it. Your whole life you and Ellie have been so close. You told each other everything. The reason your friendship is changing was because of you.

After tossing and turning in the empty bed for a while you look over at your bag and see the candy you bought for Ellie but forgot to give her. You decide to get up and find her, still feeling bad about earlier. The room was dark and hard to navigate but you found the door. You walk downstairs to see Ellie laying on the couch. She's wrapped up in a small blanket, sleeping softly. You sit on the edge of the couch and look at her with a feeling of guilt settling in your stomach.

"y/n?" She slowly opens her eyes and looks at you.

"Im sorry Els." You look at her with damp eyes. "Im sorry I've been so distant and I'm sorry for being rude." You wipe your tears trying to gain composer.

Ellie sits up and wraps her arms around you, bringing you close to her body. She wipes your tears as she holds you. "Stop crying. Im not mad at you, Im just confused."

"I know and Im sorry" You rest your head on her chest.

You eventually lay down on the couch with her. There isn't too much room but you make it work. Your bodies press against each other as you close your eyes. Her arms are wrapped around your waist, still trying to calm you down. You quickly fall asleep, feeling that your friendship is returning to what it once was.

⋆˚✿˖°

You wake up alone on the couch, hearing chatter from the kitchen. Sitting up and looking over you see your friends making breakfast. The air smells of salt and pancakes.

"Look who's finally up" Jesse says teasingly as he flips a pancake.

"You hungry?" Ellie asks as she holds up a plate of food she had already prepared for you.

You get up from the couch and sit at the table. The kitchen had huge windows that had the perfect view on the backyard and the beach. The cabin was so pretty during the day. The sunlight lit up the whole house. You look up as you see Ellie placing a plate in front of you. She sits down and joins you for breakfast.

"Do you have any plans in mind for today" She looks up at you as she takes a bite of pineapple.

"I really want to explore this area and go to the beach." You smile at her as you spread the butter on your pancakes.

You put on your bathing suit and then some shorts over as a coverup. The weather was hot but not humid. There was nice breeze outside. There were a bunch of beach bikes on the side of the cabin for guest so you and your friends decided to explore on them.

Wind blew through your hair as you rode down the dirt paths from the cabin to the nearest sidewalk. Music played through Ellie's speakers as you rode. You eventually came across a small beach town with restaurants and shops. There were people walking through with friends and family enjoying the start of summer break.

You tied your bikes to a post and decided to walk around. "This place is so cute!" You take out you phone to take some pictures.

Dina points out a small local coffee shop and starts walking towards it. You guys enter the shop and order coffees to start your morning. Ellie wasn't a huge coffee person so she got a refresher.

"Els you need to try this!" You hand her your drink waiting for her to take a sip.

"No thanks. I really don't like coffee" She pushes your drink away.

"Seriously Ellie, its so good, you have to try it" You push your cup back into her hands.

She hands you her drink so you can try it as she takes a sip of your coffee. "This is disgusting!" She cringes as the taste of coffee lingers in her mouth.

She takes her drink back and washes out the bitter taste of coffee from her mouth. The coffee wasn't even strong, it was mostly washed out with a sugary creamer. You laugh watching Ellie's reaction to the coffee and took it back from her hands.

The town was small so it didn't take long to explore it. You guys planned on trying every restaurant here over the summer. The breeze from the ocean felt nice. The air smelt of salt and coffee.

You and your friends got back onto your bikes and rode down to the beach. The weather was starting to get warmer as noon approached. You set you bike up again the beach entrance and step onto the sand. You take off your shoes and toss them into your bag and walk down to the water. Ellie follows shortly behind and sits down on the towel that Dina places on the warm sand.

You join Ellie on the towel as Dina and Jesse head towards the water. "Im sorry about last night, I was just tired. I don't even remember why I was upset." You say looking at Ellie as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Y/n, it's really ok, I'm not mad. I just want us to go back to how we use to be" She admits as she meets your gaze.

"Me too" You smile and rest your head on her shoulder as you watch your friends splashing each other in the waves.

⋆˚✿˖°

The first week was perfect. You spent your days at the beach and cooking out in the backyard of the cabin. Jesse and Ellie set up hammocks in the back, so you guys could star gaze and talk until the sun starts to rise. Things were going better than you imagined. Your relationship with Ellie was better than ever. You two did everyone together.

"Cats going to be here in a few minutes!" Ellie impatiently checks her phone waiting for Cat's arrival text.

You sit at the island finishing your breakfast. The windows were open, allowing the fresh air to calm you down. You've been dreading this since Ellie first brought up the fact that Cat was even visiting. The thought of Ellie spending all her time with Cat made you sick. You didn't want to lash out again so you kept your feelings to yourself.

A ding from Ellie's phone interrupted your conversation followed by a loud knock at the door. "She's here!" Ellie jumped from her seat and walked over to the front door.

Cat stood at the entrance with her bag. She was dressed in shorts and a tank top with an opened button down on top. You took in the image of Ellie's face lighting up as she looked Cat up and down. You watched as she pulled her into a tight hug. Ellie leaded her into the kitchen with everyone else.

"Hi guys! Thanks for letting me stay for a few days" She smiles and then looks at you.

You return the smile but its obvious you're annoyed. Cat takes the hint and turns back too Ellie. They walk upstairs so she could put up her bags.

Dina looks over at you with a frown. "You ok y/n?"

"Yeah... why?" You look at her with a confused and saddened expression.

Dina caught on to your feelings for Ellie a long time ago. You've never admitted to them because honestly you never thought of Ellie in that way. At least not until recently. It's all been so confusing.

"She's only going to be here for five days, it'll go by fast" Dina tries to reassure you but it just makes things worse.

"I know, I think we'll have fun. And Ellie's happy" You try to convince your friends you're ok, and maybe you're trying to convince yourself too.

Ellie returns downstairs with Cats hand in hers. The sight makes you want to cry but you suck in your feelings and try to avoid them. You knew these next few days would be hard. Not only did you have to watch your best friend fall in love with someone else but you had to get rid of any feelings you have for her.

You didn't even know you liked her but it makes sense now. It's all coming together. Why did you feel this way? You've known Ellie all your life. Why are you just now realizing these feelings? The way she makes you feel when her fingers are running through your hair. The way she holds you close at night. The way she immediately drops everything when you need her.

Your thoughts shatter in your mind when you see Cats lips against Ellie's. You can't help but sit and stare. Ellie never told you they were official yet. Why didn't she tell you?

Your emotions took over and you left. You didn't know where you were going but your keys were in your hand and you were already half way to you car.

"Y/n!? Where are you going?" Ellie follows you as you walk out the door. Cat standing behind. She stands at the door frame as she watches you pull out of the drive way.

The air was much needed. You drove down the roads of the beach. tears building up in your eyes. You had hopes that this drive would distract you but the only thing on your mind was Ellie. Why did you let your feelings get the best of you again. She clearly doesn't like you. She has Cat.

You find yourself sitting in a cafe looking out at the beach. The thoughts Ellie holding you floods your mind. You hate yourself for feeling like this. What would she think if she knew about how you felt? Would this ruin everything between you two? Would your friendship be over for good?

You immediately snap out of your thoughts as you look down and notice a text from Ellie.

⋆˚✿˖°

a/n: Thank you for reading!! Im already working on the next chapter. I hope my writing gets stronger as I write more because I feel like this could be more detailed:( Please, please, pleaseeee give me feedback! I love hearing others opinions! Im excited to continue this story because honestly I have no idea where the plot is going to go yet. The next chapters should be longer as they come out. Im not expecting this to be too long but let me know what you guys want for the future chapters!<3

[charmercharm3r]

okay but after reading that 9th member boxing, i need to hear more instances where the boys see her practically naked. like idk at the the gym(again), practice, around the dorm, etc. like maybe she’s getting more comfortable with showing skin but only around the boys so it still catches them off guard cause of how new it still is to all of them

a lil blurb cus I thought this was cute

Masterlist

prev: one, next: three

☆ﾟ

You were just so tired, dehydrated, and felt sticky from sweating for the past god knows how many hours at dance practice. It was just you in the practice room for a while until Hyunjin convinced you that it was time to head home. He was surprised you were even still at the company, considering it was supposed to be a rest day for the group.

The two of you headed home together, him having to almost hold you up most of the way because it felt like your limbs were going to give out any second. “You can have the shower first, you’re kinda stinky,” he teased as he led you through the threshold.

“Gee, thanks! You’re so kind.” Hyunjin smirked at the sarcasm, nudging your shoulder before departing to his room.

Living in the dorm with him, Chan, Changbin, and Jisung was usually rather quiet when 3racha were gone. Hyunjin enjoyed his alone time, as did Jisung when he was home, though when everyone was back at the same time, there was no such thing as peace or personal space.

The only thing you were glad for was finally having your own room, how the company managed to find a 5 bedroom apartment, you had no idea, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest. Room not too small, just enough space for a bed, desk, and closet, you were comfortable.

Tossing your bag down and grabbing a clean towel, you headed to the bathroom before the rest of the members could come home.

There was a new bottle in the shower, brown and expensive looking. “Jinnie, did you get a new hair product?” You called out, picking it up to inspect.

“Yeah, I heard it was really good. Try a little if you want,” he yelled back from his room. Calling back a, "sure, thanks," you shut the door and started your shower.

There was so much on your find, you don't know how long you spent under the water. It took some time before you even undressed, looking at yourself in the mirror and examining what body part you thought might stand out for the public to talk about for the next come back. There was always something wrong, nothing you did ever felt good enough.

Sometimes your thighs were too big, sometimes your arms weren't toned enough. Oh no, you're wearing a crop top? Someone cover her up, she's seeking validation! God forbid you wear anything other than long sleeves because elbows are just too sexy. As if she doesn't get enough spotlight already being in an all male group, gotta have a part in the song a second longer than the rest because you have to be the center of attention!

Another few minutes to let the water soak down to your bones, you took your time shampooing, soaping, everything in between and taking mental notes of things you needed to improve upon. One wrong step and it's over, not just for you, but your entire group, as well. If you were to be the reason they got dragged down-

No, that's the shower thoughts talking. Probably time to get out, anyways. Changbin will have a fit if he doesn't get some warm water for himself.

So consumed in your own head, you weren't thinking when you threw on just your bra and underwear and opened the bathroom door. Dirty clothes in one hand, rubbing the towel into your hair, the trek to your bedroom through the house felt so long up until you got through the door.

The dorm was quiet, the others must still be out. Hyunjin won't show his face until dinner time, if you were fast you could grab a snack from the kitchen. Yeah, it won't take longer than a minute. Make it quick-

You padded out of your bedroom and made it a step into the living room before stopping dead in your tracks, eight pairs of eyes looking at you big with mouths dropped so wide it could catch flies.

The other members were sitting in various places surrounding the couch and coffee table. Chan scratched at his ear and darted his eyes back and forth, unsure of whether or not to look. Minho didn't seemed like he cared too much, while Jisung and Seungmin obviously raked their gaze from your head to your toes. The other four focused on different areas, but you ran away as quickly as you came with a trail of beat red embarrassment to follow.

As soon as the door slammed shut you threw your pajamas on and paced back for forth for a bit.

You should just act like nothing happened. They probably don't care. No, they definitely don't care. They're just body parts and everyone has them. But they were your body parts. For as long as you'd known them, you'd been so careful.

It's fine- they're not prudes, they're young adults that watch more porn than you ever could in your life time. They're just boys. Your boys. Your best friends. Yeah, they won't care. It's fine. You're fine. You're-

"Y/N'ie?"

A knock on your door had you stutter in your steps. When you didn't respond, the voice spoke again, "there's food here if you wanna join."

It took you another second to process what had just happened. The floor creaked on the other side and you panicked again, "Felix?"

The footsteps backtracked and stopped outside your door again, "yeah?"

"What kind of food?" He giggled lightly to himself.

"Come eat with us and you'll find out."

Slowly you came to the door, torn on hiding in your room for the next few hours or facing the eight people that caused your massive embarrassment in the first place. It felt so stupid to even feel such a way around those who you'd already been through hell and back with, the same people you've lived with and known for years and have seen you at your worst.

Felix's weight leaning against the other side of the door made him stumble forward when you finally opened it. Setting aside his momentary hiccup, he smiled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder to bring into a quick hug. You let him drape over you as you made your way back into the living room where everyone else was waiting.

Quiet as you sat down between Minho and Jeongin- Felix across the coffee table, quiet as you grabbed a pair of chopstick, quiet as you began to eat. The eight of them watched you chew, chew, swallow, not moving a muscle as though they were walking on eggshells as not to scare you off.

Now you felt stupid. This was stupid. Just body parts. They're just body parts.

"Stop staring at me, virgins. Eat before it gets cold." Minho at your side dug in first, then the rest followed suit as you all enjoyed the meal together.

You could feel Jeongin taking quick peaks at you as you ate. He jolted a little when you nudged his shoulder to get him to talk. A light blush flooded his cheeks and ears, putting another piece onto your plate as he leaned in to whisper, "you looked really pretty."

"Don't spread gossip, Yang Jeongin. Share it with the table," Jisung teased and drew the attention of the rest of the members.

"Look, he's flustered. What'd you say to Y/N'ie?" Hyunjin joined in and ruffled the younger's hair.

"Nothing! It's none of your business-"

"He called me pretty," you played along and pinched Jeongin's cheek, making him swat you and Hyunjin away with a few curses under his breath. Giggling and picking up your chopsticks again, you brought some food to your mouth, "you wanna kiss me sooo bad."

All of them spoke at once, "yes."

"Wait, what?" Quiet again. What is it with them and perfectly timed silence?

When you faced Minho, he was particularly unashamed in the way he eyed your lips as you slowly chewed your food. You looked at them around the table, "ew. Bitchless. All of you," and stole a large portion of food to take back to your room.

-

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffi t@fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchandler @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[waldau-archived]

hii i would like to request a fake dating scoups x reader au where the reader falls first but coups falls harder <3 thank u!

here you go anon, hope you like this :)

reset — choi seungcheol | 2,008 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

cheol brainrot go brrrr

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

technically speaking, the party’s going fine.

despite how much you want to hate it, it’s going the way parties do. there’s music, there’s alcohol, there’s your own corner if you want to tune out the sound of everything else, and there’s seungcheol’s friends. he’s spent at least half an hour introducing you to everyone — you’ve met a lot of them before, but there’s still some new ones. there’s always new ones.

and even though they’ve been nothing but polite to you, engaging you in conversation and making an effort to learn more about you, you can’t shake off the feeling that this isn’t really where you’re supposed to be.

you don’t know who you were kidding when you agreed to be his fake date for the party. he’s already had a ton of people hanging onto him throughout the course of the night. you’re not sure why he even bothered asking you. he could have asked his manager to find someone that would actually match with him, and maybe create a big splash if it made it to the news.

instead, he’d asked you out.

it won’t make a difference in the news, anyway, he’d said, like he wasn’t aware of the way he shattered your heart with those words. like it was common knowledge that nobody could even imagine the two of you together. like it wasn’t worth anyone’s time or imagination, most of all his.

suddenly, you find the sounds in the room too loud to bear. it’s not the first party you’ve been to, but it’s the first one where you’ve felt truly alone. you’re glad you haven’t touched your drink yet.

no one’s really paying attention to you exclusively, and you’re okay with nodding along and throwing in an occasional response here and there. but then it’s not okay, anymore. you shouldn’t have to be here in the first place, on this stupid fake date you agreed to because of your little crush on seungcheol.

okay, maybe it’s not just a little crush. but the point is that you shouldn’t have to be here hurting your feelings in order to spend a little time with him.

you excuse yourself under the pretense of having to take a call and head towards the balcony. joshua, one of seungcheol’s closest friends, comes up to ask you if everything’s okay. you’ve been friends with him for long enough that he can tell when you're fine and when you're not, but you give him a look that hopefully conveys you want him to let this slide.

“seungcheol mentioned this isn’t really your thing, so let him know if you want to go home. i know he’ll be okay with that.”

you nod wordlessly, words of gratitude stuck in your throat. what seungcheol tells you is true — joshua is just too damn perceptive.

you feel like you can finally take a better breath when the door shuts behind you, separating you from everyone else. the cold air makes you feel better, even if it’s beginning to seep into your skin because of the outfit you’ve worn.

it doesn’t matter, though. you need a bit of a reset.

somehow, it hardly takes four minutes before you feel someone behind you. and it’s not just anyone.

“do you have a death wish or something?”

you choose not to grace him with an answer.

“hey,” seungcheol prompts when you don’t reply. “what’s up?”

“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

seungcheol steps to your side and looks at you. even though you’re gazing down at the empty road sparsely dotted with streetlights, you can feel his gaze pierce you.

“do you want to go home?” he asks softly.

it hurts. he shouldn’t be this considerate to you and then not like you back. it can't just be one without the other.

“i don’t know, do you?”

he sighs. “okay. i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i can tell you’re not comfortable right now. are you done for tonight?”

you shake your head. “i don’t want you to leave because of me. it seemed like you were having fun back there.”

“and you weren’t,” he replies, reading between the lines.

“it doesn’t matter, okay? it’s not your fault i’m not having fun.”

“that’s not how this works,” seungcheol stresses, stepping forward to grip your arms and recoiling a bit. “you’re cold.”

you shrug. another thing that’s not gone well today.

seungcheol takes off his jacket and hands it to you without any hesitation, but you don’t take it. you can’t keep living in your little daydream, living on moments where you think he might love you just a bit more than he would a friend. one of you needs to break the cycle, and if it’s going to be you, you’re prepared.

“seriously, what is wrong with you?” he asks, soft but sharp. you finally look him in the eyes. he has that gaze — the one where it looks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. it scares you sometimes, the way he’s so accurate. he must have picked up something from joshua over the years.

“nothing’s wrong with me, cheol,” you say, slightly bitter. “just because i don’t want your jacket doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

"you're right, i'm sorry," he says, taking a step closer to you. "i shouldn't have said it like that. but...it's not just about the jacket. at first i thought i caught you on an off day, but you seemed fine till we got here. i don’t know what happened after that. are you hungry? did someone say something to you? do you need me to punch anyone?”

you give him an exasperated look. “you’d punch someone if i asked?”

“in a heartbeat. i thought you knew that by now.”

“and if i was wrong?”

“you’re never wrong when it comes to things like these. and i’d forgive you even if you were.”

"you're too trusting, you know that?"

"well," seungcheol says, lowering the jacket. but it's still in front of you, still on offer. "you're my best friend. i think you have some privilege."

you hate the earnestness in his voice as much as you love it. “i know. sorry.”

“don’t apologize, sweetheart. tell me what’s wrong, and tell me how i can fix it. i’ll do anything.”

“it’s…nothing you can do,” you say, turning away from him. it's most definitely not in his control, but it’s not your fault for loving him, either.

“how will you know if you don’t try?”

“you just know some things, cheol. trust me on that.”

“yeah? like i know you’re hiding something from me right now? something that’s eating my best friend up, and i don’t even know what to do to help?”

again. those two words. they tear you up from the inside just as much as they hold you together. you can’t help the sharp feeling in your throat which indicates tears might be on the way. you're just frustrated at the unfairness of it all. if only life was a little kinder.

seungcheol, ever perceptive, notices immediately. “sweetheart? it’s something i did, isn’t it? something i said?”

you shake your head, not wanting tears to well up.

“don’t lie to me,” he says, draping the jacket over your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. you push him away, even though you whole body wants nothing more than to be with him.

“please tell me?”

you take in a breath, the cold night air stinging your nose. “you said something.”

“what was it?”

“you said it wouldn’t make a…difference, if i was your date,” you say, focusing so much on not crying that your voice is barely audible to your own ears. “you said it like no one would care if we were together. like it wouldn’t affect you in any way. like i’m just…your best friend. and no one can see me as anything more.”

seungcheol sucks in a sharp breath. “can i hold you? please?”

you almost refuse, but decide otherwise. you’ve spilled out your mind to him, anyway. the least you deserve is a hug from him.

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes into your hair, his arms looped around your waist and holding you close to him. “i didn’t— i’d never say something like that. that’s not what i meant when i said it.”

“then what did you,” mean, you mean to ask, but your breath gets swept away when he presses a kiss to your head.

“it’s just…everyone knows how close we are,” he says, hand gently running up and down your back. “i thought people wouldn’t bat an eye if they assumed we were dating, you know. i know people who already think we are. or…that we should.”

you look up at him at that. he looks serious about what he’s saying, but also shy, like he doesn’t want you looking at him when he’s speaking.

“people?”

“some of my close friends.”

that's news to you. “so you don’t mind…people thinking we’re a thing? or thinking we should be?”

“of course not,” he says, holding you with one hand and tracing your cheekbone with the other. you fall for him just a bit more, right there. “anyone would be lucky to have you. i’d be the luckiest guy to have you.”

he just says things like that, and it makes you wonder if he really means them. so you decide to push him this time, and see where it goes. and blame it on your nerves and the drink you never had if things don’t go well. “would you?”

“want to have you?”

you nod, breath trapped in your throat.

“yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward and tucking his chin in your shoulder.

you swear your world stops for just a second. you’re hardly even aware that he’s leaning on you now.

"yeah as in?"

“i’d like you to take you out for a real date. if you’ll let me.”

you pull away to look at seungcheol. he’s blushing, but he’s not looking away.

"if i'll let him, he says."

"well?" seungcheol lifts a hand to fix your hair.

“this isn’t a joke?”

he steps back and rubs his face, probably in an attempt to brace himself for whatever he wants to say. it doesn’t work. you like him like this, you think. with his hair messy and his eyes shy.

“of course not. i’d never joke about something like this. especially when it’s you.”

you should be the one who's shy and blushing, and yet there's nowhere else you'd rather look. “what made you…”

seungcheol takes your hands. they're a warm contrast to your cold ones. “i’ve been wrestling with it for a while, and i never told you because i didn’t want things between us to be weird. but i couldn’t keep faking it after i saw you tonight. you look so good, it’s been killing me.”

you shake him off to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, feeling a bit braver. “so if i told you i wanted to leave right now…”

he swallows loud enough for you to hear. “we’d be out of here right now.”

you stand on your tiptoes to bring yourself to his height and place a little kiss on his nose.

he pouts. “that’s it? that’s all i get after confessing to you?”

“i don’t want our first kiss to be in front of an audience, cheol.”

seungcheol smiles. “fair. but i don’t know how much longer i can wait now.”

“you’re going to have to ask me out for real, you know.”

“but you haven’t told me you like me back yet,” seungcheol says. you can hear the whine in his voice and it makes you laugh a bit.

“you need to hear me say it?”

“of course i do! i've spent weeks thinking about tonight.”

“aren't you lucky, then?" you tease.

“the luckiest,” he says solemnly.

it's your turn to blush now.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

[forest-hashira]

Forever Yours

before i drop this here and run away, i just want to say that i welcome anyone who follows me because you enjoy my writing, but please keep in mind that this is far outside of what i usually write, so if you're following expecting a lot more of this, you're going to be disappointed. everything i've written here besides this is sfw, so. you've been informed. don't get mad at me for expecting something i told you not to expect. anyways, enjoy this!

read on ao3 here | wc: ~5.1k | cw: omegaverse, omega/afab reader, alpha kyojuro, established relationship, mating cycles (reader's in heat), knotting, mating bites, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, implied chubby reader. minors do not interact.

No matter how many times he assured you it was fine, that he wanted you there, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to spending your heats with Kyojuro. 

You’d been dating for over a year at this point, but you’d only had half a dozen heats at most since then, probably less. Your heats had been irregular ever since you presented, but multiple doctors had assured you it wasn’t anything to be seriously concerned about, so you did your best not to worry about it. 

The first heat you had after you started dating had started in the middle of the night, when the two of you were supposed to watch the sunrise together in the morning. You’d immediately texted him, saying vaguely that you didn’t feel well and that you’d have to take a rain check on the sunrise, though it made you sad to do so. 

Much to your surprise, he had still shown up at your agreed upon time for your date, but instead of flowers he’d had shopping bags in his hands. He didn’t even seem upset that you hadn’t specifically told him you were in heat, just more concerned that you might not have everything you needed to get through it. You could tell he wanted to stay with you through it, but since you hadn’t invited him to, he didn’t ask, only promising that he was a phone call away if you needed him.

You made it less than forty-eight hours before you were calling him, asking if you could stay with him through it. He’d dropped everything to pick you up from your apartment and bring you back to his own. 

After that it was an unspoken agreement that you spent all of your heats with him at his apartment. 

Even having done this before, even knowing that nothing you did to make yourself more comfortable in his space could make him upset with you, nesting at his apartment still made you nervous. The first time you’d built a nest in his apartment, you’d done it in a closet, not wanting it to be in his way or disrupt his life any more than you already were. He’d told you he was honored you felt safe enough to nest in his apartment, but there was a sadness in his voice and on his face he hadn’t been able to disguise. In your delicate state, you’d wildly misunderstood the reason for his sadness, and had begun to cry, apologizing for taking up space that wasn’t yours. He’d spent a long time after that assuring you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, and that the only reason he was sad was because he’d hoped you’d nest somewhere he could join you, or at least keep a better eye on you. 

Progress had been slow, but every time your nest migrated to a more open spot, he seemed to get happier and happier. You hoped that trend would continue, because this time the only place your Omega instincts would accept as a nesting spot was his bed. 

You’d kept it small, as much as it pained you to do so: just a few extra blankets, the extra pillows from his closet, and a hoodie of his you’d slipped into. The clothing was thick, almost too warm with your rising body temperature, but it smelled like him, and you needed that to help calm you until he got home from work. 

Almost as if your thoughts had summoned him, you heard his keys in the front door, and you sat up in your nest, anxiously gripping the blanket in your lap. What if he hated it? you fretted internally. What if he’s angry I used his bed? What if—

Your anxious thoughts were stopped in their tracks when you heard him call your name, his voice full of warmth and love and tenderness, just like it always was during your heats. You didn’t call back, the words sticking in your throat, but you knew it wouldn’t take him long to find you; your scent had begun to fill the apartment a few hours before, though you’d done your best not to let it get too overwhelming outside of his room. 

Within a minute his footsteps approached and his head peeked around the door. Your heart leapt into your throat then, convinced he’d see your nest in his bed and become upset, asking you to take it apart. Instead, you watched as he took you in for a moment, then seemed to realize what you’d turned his bed into, and he broke out into a bright grin. 

He closed the distance between you in just a few steps, and he cradled your face in his hands for a moment before he kissed you. 

“You’re not upset?” you asked, once he’d finally given you a chance to breathe. 

“Upset?” Kyojuro asked, clearly surprised by your words. “Baby, I’ve been waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to nest in my bed for months. How could I possibly be upset?”

Tears pricked at your eyes at his words, and all you could do was turn your head slightly into his touch, pressing a featherlight kiss to the inside of his wrist. 

“My only concern is the size, though,” he added after a moment, stroking your cheek with his thumb to get your attention again. 

Just like the first time, you misunderstood his meaning. “O-oh, okay,” you said quietly, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I can make it smaller, move it to my side of the bed. You don’t have to, uh. Have to share it with me.” Your voice grew softer as you spoke, barely a whisper as the last few words left your lips. You had hoped he’d cuddle you in the nest for as long as you could take it — maybe even fuck you in it later, your inner Omega suggested hopefully — but clearly he didn’t want that, and the last thing you wanted was to impose. 

“No, little flame, don’t be silly,” he chided, his fiery eyes shining as he looked at you. “I just meant it looks a little sparse, your last few have been cozier than this. Are you sure it’s to your satisfaction?”

You stared at him for a moment, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “…no,” you admitted after a moment. “I just…didn’t want to take over your space like that.”

“It’s yours to take over,” he assured you, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before finally releasing you. “Come on, I’ll help you bulk it up.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and all you could do was nod, allowing him to take your hand and pull you up from the bed, forgetting until you were standing in front of him that you wore nothing but his hoodie and your panties. 

His eyes flashed briefly at the sight, but all he did was smile. “You look comfy like that,” he said simply, giving your hand a squeeze before leading you into the laundry room. A basket full of his clean clothes sat by the door, and he easily scooped it up, carrying it back to his room. “Pick whatever you want out of there,” he encouraged. “I’m going to find every single blanket in this apartment for you, and if you want more I’ll drive to the store and buy the softest ones they have.”

A small giggle escaped you at his words, and you shook your head slightly at him. “That’s not necessary,” you assured him. “As long as it smells like you I’ll be happy.”

Reinforcing the nest didn’t take long, especially with Kyojuro there to help, following your every instruction about where to put the blankets and how best to arrange them to help the nest keep its shape. You incorporated every shirt, hoodie, and pair of pajama pants from the basket of his clothes into the nest, leaving out only the jeans and boxers. 

“It looks beautiful, baby,” he murmured, after you’d finished your work. “Do you want to lay down in it now?”

You nodded eagerly at his words, your inner omega preening as he praised your nest. Upon his insistence, you climbed in first, settling down near the center. Once you were comfortable, you looked over at him with your best puppy eyes and reached out for him. “Cuddles?” you pleaded, blinking slowly at him the way you knew always worked. 

“Anything you want,” he agreed, shucking off the jeans he was wearing before he crawled up the bed to your side, smiling at you all the while. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmured, holding you close once he’d reached you. 

“For what?” you asked, a bit confused. 

“For building your nest in my bed. For being honest and telling me you weren’t happy with the state of it when I asked, and for letting me help you make it better for you.”

The blush in your cheeks was impossible to hide, especially with the way it crawled up your ears and down your chest a bit. “Oh…” was all you could manage for a moment, his praises making you feel almost dizzy. “Thank you for helping me put it together. You didn’t have to do that.”

“But I wanted to,” he promised, nuzzling his nose lightly against your own; he wasn’t quite scent marking you, but it was reassuring all the same. “I’d do anything for you,” he added, almost to himself, and your blush intensified, making you feel as if you could burst into flames right then and there.

Not knowing what to say, you cuddled further into him, fingers tangling in the shirt he wore and pressing your cheek against his for a moment. “Could we watch a movie?” Your voice was quiet as you spoke, but he was so focused on you that he caught your words easily. 

“What do you want to watch?” Kyojuro turned away from you slightly to grab the remote for his TV from the nightstand, but even with as short as the distance between you was, you whined softly. He chuckled softly at the sound, quickly returning to his position, squishing you against him and peppering your cheeks with kisses.

“You pick,” you told him, relaxing once he had you in his arms again. Honestly, you didn’t really care what you watched; you just wanted some background noise to help you sleep. You were exhausted, and though you hadn’t said anything, you were sure your boyfriend could tell. 

A soft kiss dropped to your forehead after you spoke, and you watched as he turned on the TV, clicking around a bit until he landed on a period drama; your inner Omega cheered when you realized it was one of your favorites. 

The feeling of his hand rubbing up and down your back had you melting into him in seconds, practically purring in satisfaction. Before you could fully sink into sleep or your heat-driven headspace, you forced yourself to pull away from him enough to look up into his face. “Hey Kyo?”

“What is it, little flame?” he asked, his eyes soft as he smiled down at you.

The nickname sent a little shiver down your spine, but you ignored it for now; what you needed to tell him was important. “I want you to claim me this time.”

The alpha in your arms seemed to freeze then, and you suddenly worried you’d crossed the line. The two of you had never technically had a conversation about the subject, but it had always felt like the obvious next step in your relationship; you’d never felt the same way about anyone else, and you couldn’t imagine a future without him.

“Are you sure?” he asked after a few moments, brushing a stray hair away from your eyes. “That’s a big commitment.” He watched you closely as he spoke, trying to gauge your reaction.

You nodded eagerly at his words. “I’m sure,” you promised. “I’ve felt the way you hold back during my heats and your ruts. I really want your mark this time. I needed to tell you before I got too lost in the hormones, in case you didn’t think I meant it.”

Any anxiety you might’ve felt about the situation melted away as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands cradling your face so lovingly it almost hurt.

“I want it too,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you again softly. “I’ll mark you this time. I love you,” he promised, pressing his forehead gently to yours.

“I love you too,” you breathed out, relief washing over you at the knowledge that you were on the same page. You snuggled further into him, burying your face into his neck and seeking out his scent gland. A purr rumbled in his chest at the touch, and it made you melt.

“Get some sleep,” he encouraged, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head while the other squeezed your side gently. “I know this week is gonna wear you out, you’ll need all the rest you can get.”

That was all the encouragement you needed, purring against his skin as you finally drifted off, tucked close into his warmth.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep, but when you woke up you were sweating, suddenly feeling suffocated in the hoodie you’d put on earlier. You wriggled out of it as quickly as you could, tossing it to one side of your nest. Unfortunately, freeing yourself from the stifling garment didn’t bring the relief you’d hoped for, and you whined.

After a moment, you realized you were alone in the nest, and you sat up, turning towards the door. “Kyo?” you called out, not quite sure where he would be; he didn’t leave your side much during your heats, so waking up alone during them was uncommon. 

Thankfully, he was back at your side in less than a minute, placing a bottle of gatorade – your favorite flavor, of course – and a snack on the bedside table. “Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted, crawling into the bed with you again, kissing your forehead. “Just went to get a couple things for you. Could smell your heat setting in while you were still asleep.”

You nodded dumbly at his words, leaning into his touch as he pulled you close. You sought out his scent gland again, pressing your nose into it and taking a deep breath. The smell of him was heady, spices and woodsmoke filling your senses and making your mouth water slightly. You shifted your position slightly, pushing yourself up on your knees a bit to rub your cheek against his scent gland, eyes closed all the while. 

A low sound rumbled in his chest, and he wrapped his arms more securely around you, letting you get as much of his scent as you wanted. One hand rubbed your back softly as he held you, the other trailing down a little lower, grabbing at the meat of your thigh and relishing in the way it squished a bit in his hand; he’d always been fond of your softness, saying your squishiness and stretch marks were his favorite parts of you. He’d figured out early on in your relationship that you sometimes felt self conscious about your weight, even to the point of watching what you ate around him, but he had promised you countless times that your weight didn’t matter to him; he just loved you. 

A soft gasp escaped you as he gripped your thigh, and your hold on him tightened slightly. It was at that point that you fully realized he had removed his shirt at some point, leaving him in just his boxers. The feeling of his warm skin – he had always run a bit warm – pressed against your flushed body had a purr escaping you, loud and happy, your hips rolling into him slightly, the action completely involuntary. 

Kyojuro bit his lip as you moved against him, stifling the moan that rose in his chest. “Baby,” he murmured, after he’d gotten himself under control again. You didn’t react, seeming not to have heard his voice, so he tried again, this time pulling you away from his neck. “My love,” he murmured, a gentle smile on his face as he looked into your eyes. “Can you tell me what you need? I don’t want to assume anything or do something you’re not ready for yet.”

You whined softly as he pulled you away from where you’d been scenting him, but the weight of his hands at the back of your neck and on your hip kept you grounded there with him. Mind already beginning to grow a bit hazy, you had to take a moment to formulate an answer. “Touch me,” you replied, the words much breathier and pleading than you had intended. 

His smile turned a bit more knowing at that, his smile quirking up into a slight smirk. “Alright, I can do that. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” His words were gentle as reassuring as his hand left your hip and trailed down between your legs. He couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips this time, the feeling of your slick soaked panties making him feel a bit feral. “So wet already,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “C’mon, lift up for me. Gonna take these off, ‘kay?” he asked, meeting your eyes again and tugging lightly at the waistband of your underwear. 

You nodded at his request, lifting yourself off of him, whimpering slightly at the loss of contact with him, though soon you’d helped him get your panties down your legs, the clothing tossed to some unknown corner of the room. 

“Gonna start with my fingers,” the fiery haired man said, bringing you back to settle on his lap for the time being. 

You nodded again at his words, more eager this time, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hand made its way between your legs. Normally you would’ve been embarrassed at the way slick was beginning to drip from your pussy, but right now you were so desperate for him to touch you that you didn’t care.

As his fingers finally brushed against your folds, you gasped, clinging to him a bit tighter without thinking about it. His touch was gentle at first, but when he found your clit he pressed his thumb to it, he began rubbing it in firm circles that made you whimper so pretty for him. “Kyo, please,” you pleaded quietly. “Need more.”

“I got you,” he soothed, kissing your temple before pushing a finger into your entrance. He pumped it a few times, though when he met with no resistance he easily pushed in a second. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling on every few thrusts, his thumb still steady in its movement on your clit. 

Your arms tightened slightly around his neck as he started touching you more, panting against his skin and letting out little moans every time his fingertips brushed against your sweet spot. After a few minutes of that, your hips rocking into his hand slightly to meet his thrusts, he pressed a third finger into you, the stretch causing your eyes to roll back into your head. It was nothing compared to his knot, you knew that, but it still felt sinfully good the way the digits pumped in and out of your cunt, movements aided by the amount of slick leaking from you. 

Eventually your thighs began to tremble, and you buried your face further into his neck. “Feels s’good,” you whimpered into his neck. Your hips still rocked down into his hand, eagerly meeting his thrusts and adding to the stimulation of his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Yeah?” he asked softly, the hand not currently buried in your cunt rubbing up and down your thigh, almost as if to soothe you. “You gonna come on my fingers like this?” His words held no teasing whatsoever, only love and affection; all he wanted to do was make you feel good, so hearing that you were enjoying his touches made his internal Alpha swell with pride.

“Want to,” you whined, rocking your hips down a bit harder than before. A breathy moan escaped your lips then, and before you had fully realized what was happening, your lips were captured in a warm, affectionate kiss.

“You can do it,” Kyojuro praised, after he broke the kiss. He began to curl his fingers into your most sensitive spot with every thrust, his thumb moving more quickly on your clit. “C’mon, baby, come for me. Wanna make you feel good.”

His words seemed to flip a switch inside you, and you came with a cry, hiding your face and sinking your teeth lightly into the curve of his shoulder; you wanted to mark him, but some part of you was holding back, wanting him to claim you first, leave his mark on you and show how much he wanted you.

He couldn’t have stopped the grin that crept across his face if he’d wanted to, feeling very self-satisfied at the way you fell apart for him, so well and so easily. The hand on your thigh slid up your back, pressing you closer into him as he worked you carefully through your high and let you catch your breath. “How do you feel?” He asked after a few moments, nuzzling lightly at your cheek until you opened your eyes to look up at him. 

“Feel hot,” you answered honestly, and you could feel yourself slipping fully into your heat. “Need you, Kyo. Need your knot, please, need it so bad.” You were practically babbling at this point, and he shushed you with a gentle kiss.

“Alright, little flame, alright. I’ve got you,” the alpha soothed, sliding his fingers out of you to maneuver you onto your back in the middle of your nest.

A pathetic whine escaped your lips as he separated from you, and you reached out for him weakly, brows furrowed as your pussy clenched around nothing. “Please,” you whimpered, eyes slightly glassy as you looked up at him.

Kyojuro only separated from you long enough to pull his boxers down and kick them off, though as soon as that was done he was leaning into you again, fingers slipping between your legs again and rubbing up and down your soaked folds. “I’m right here,” he soothed, smiling gently down at you as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

The touch settled you a bit, and a slight smile tugged at your lips when he kissed your forehead. Your eyes slipped closed as he began to trail kisses down the side of your face to your neck, where he buried his face into your scent gland, taking a deep breath of your scent: black tea, honey, and the tiniest hint of mint enveloped him, and he dragged his tongue across the spot, drawing a shudder from you. Your fingers tangled in his hair at the touch, and you tugged, trying to get his attention again. “Please, Kyo, need you to fill me up, need your knot.”

Your words made him groan against your skin, and he pulled away from your neck to look down into your eyes. “Okay, baby. Okay,” was all he said, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before he took his length in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance before pushing in. His length slid in with ease, meeting no resistance until he was seated fully inside you.

The two of you moaned in unison once he was inside you, and you had to close your eyes for a moment as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you. He scattered kisses across your chest as he waited for permission to move, not wanting to overwhelm you at any point during this, regardless of how much he may have wanted to just start pounding you into the mattress; this wasn’t about him, after all, it was about making sure you were satisfied and taken care of.

After a few moments, you opened your eyes again, looking down at where you could still feel his lips against the skin of your chest, and you trailed your fingers gently along the curve of his jaw. Once he’d tilted his head to meet your eyes, you gave him a small nod, shifting your hips slightly to assure him you were ready.

The alpha smiled warmly as you let him know you were ready for him to move, and he shifted up slightly to capture your lips in a soft, loving kiss as he pulled his hips back, relishing in the way you sighed against his lips as he sank back into you. His pace was slow at first, far more focused on how deep he could reach than on how fast he could fuck into you. When you sank your fingers into his hair and tugged, though, a small growl slipped from his lips, and his pace quickened.

A moan escaped you as Kyojuro began to thrust into you harder than before, rolling his hips against you at the end of every thrust, the movement grinding his pubic bone into your clit in a way that had your toes curling. “Kyo,” you whimpered, nuzzling against his cheek. “Need more, please.” Your voice was soft, and if you hadn’t been pressed so close together, he might have missed it.

“Yeah?” the fiery haired man panted, nuzzling you back lightly. “All you had to do was ask, baby.” With that, he adjusted his position, pushing himself up slightly on his knees for a moment as he gathered your legs in his hands, squeezing the plush of your things as he guided your legs around his waist. Once he was satisfied with the new position, he smiled down at you again, though now his expression was a bit more predatory, like he was ready to devour you. Without another word, he leaned in again, pressing a searing kiss to your lips as he began to fuck you even harder, even faster than he had been, now chasing his own pleasure as well as yours.

A high-pitched moan had you breaking the kiss long before you wanted to, but his lips never quite left your skin, mouthing across your jaw and down your neck, licking and sucking and nibbling as he went. When he reached your scent gland, he sealed his mouth over it, grazing his teeth lightly over it. The action made you tighten around him, and he groaned, his hips slamming into the backs of your thighs.

“Fuck, baby, feel so good, all for me,” he mumbled into your skin, one of his hands leaving your thigh to reach up and pinch your nipple between his fingers, tugging on it once before releasing it, smirking slightly at the way it made you squirm.

“Only for you,” you cried out in response to his words, your grip on his hair tightening. “Please, Kyo, need your knot, please.” You clenched around him, already able to feel the swell at the base of his cock catch at your entrance every few thrusts. “Want you to claim me, wanna be yours.”

He swore under his breath, pressing his body closer to yours as he fucked relentlessly into your dripping cunt. “You want me that bad? Want me to fill you up? Want me to mark you so everyone knows you’re taken?”

“Yes!” you practically wailed, tears beginning to well in the corners of your eyes. “Fuck, please, Alpha, want it so bad, need it.” You were bordering on incoherent at this point, the knot in your stomach tightening with every slap of his skin against yours.

“Then cum for me, Omega. Show me how bad you want it.”

His words were enough to tip you over the edge, and you screamed his name as you clamped down on his dick, hips bucking up to meet his as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Kyojuro growled at the feeling, only managing to thrust a few more times before his knot swelled completely, locking the two of you together as he came, pressing as deep into you as he could. As he came, he sank his teeth into your neck, biting down on your scent gland until he tasted blood, his internal Alpha cheering as he finally marked you as his.

Your nails dug into his scalp as his knot locked the two of you together, and you swore you could feel his cum shooting straight into your womb, filling you until you couldn’t possibly hold any more. When you felt his teeth sink into your throat, your vision went white, your whole body shuddering into another small orgasm, every muscle in your body going taut until he finally released your neck.

He pulled away after a few moments to admire his work, grinning slightly at the sight of his mark on your neck. He dropped his mouth to the spot again, though this time he laved his tongue over the wound, soothing the spot as best he could in that moment. Unbeknownst to him, he’d started purring against you as he dropped his weight onto you, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and causing you to relax a bit.

Slowly, your mind came back to your body, and you couldn’t help the dopey grin that settled on your lips. Your hold on his hair loosened, your hands now sliding down to his back hugging him to yourself as you began to purr as well. “...Can I mark you?” you asked after a few minutes, nuzzling against his neck, scent marking him even though you knew your scent was all over him already.

“Of course you can, little flame. Gotta make sure we match, hm?” He tilted his head to the side as he spoke, offering you complete access to his neck.

Your expression brightened slightly at his words, and after pressing a soft kiss to his neck, you sank your teeth into his scent gland, sealing him to you, just as his bite had sealed you to him. 

He gave an involuntary thrust of his hips as you bit him, and he felt more than heard your gasp as he released another spurt of cum into your cunt. Turning his head to face you again, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, almost as if in apology. Attentive partner that he was, he immediately noticed the way your eyelids began to droop shut, and he smiled softly. “Get some rest, love,” he murmured, brushing a lock of hair away from your sweat-sticky forehead when he saw you fighting sleep. “I’ll be right here to keep taking care of you when you wake up.”

dividers by cafekitsune

tagging: @mitsuristoleme @kentohours @witchbybirth @marinnnnnnnnn @peachdues

[dira333]

Soul-Food - Osamu x Reader

Enemies to lovers - Requested by @notsochillnerd - with Atsumu as a terrible wingman who just wanted to check out his brothers' nemesis...

There is only one thing more annoying than Miya Osamu with his cooking talent, excellent marks, and unfairly good looks: his twin brother Atsumu.

“No.” You say again, arms filled with produce. He’s in your way and he’s not even sorry about it.

“Come oooon!” He whines, draping himself over the railing of the stairs as if this is a photoshoot for some perfume. “I’m so hungry! And Osamu won’t cook for me! I’ll even pay you!”

“Wow, now I want to do it even less, knowing you might not have paid me in the first place.” You snark, patience wearing thin.

“Now get out of my way, I need to get to my room.”

“To do what?” He steps to the side, but his face remains close to yours. You’re not the fastest as it is, even less when carrying that many vegetables. 

“I need to cook.”

“Perfect.” His grin is so wide, it could split his face. “You cook, I’ll eat.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

You hesitate, if only for a second. But Atsumu is like a shark and that was the single drop of blood that he needed.

Half an hour later he’s sitting at the little table in your apartment. 

Your kitchen isn’t spacious, but equipped with everything you could possibly need - there’s a reason this school costs an arm and a leg each year. And Miya Osamu got the scholarship instead of you.

You wouldn’t have any problem with it if not for your father breathing down your neck. He’s got the money to send you here twice if he wanted to, but in his twisted mind, a 100% is barely a passing grade and you should have been able to win the scholarship, monetary status be damned.

“What are you making?” Atsumu asks from behind you.

“Udon.”

“Why is it black?” 

“I’m using Sepia.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” You snap back, hoping against hope that he will fall quiet. He doesn’t. 

-

You’ve spent almost a year in a class with Osamu.

He might not always get a better mark than you, but he quickly figured out how much you hated it when he did. There’s nothing worse than someone else gloating over your loss.

The teachers love him and tolerate you. 

So far they’ve been kind enough not to put the two of you into a group project, or maybe they just played it safe. The sheer bloodlust you feel when he grins in your direction must have tipped them off.

But this year is going to end soon and your teachers expect you to come up with a dish. Your own creation, not unlike the dish you had to make for your entry exam. This time, however, it’s supposed to showcase what you want to do, going forward.

You can’t bring the same thing you made for your entry exam, even though it was perfect and a delight - you made it roughly one hundred times before. 

Your father has always been a fan of the Kaiseki Ryori and while you had loved taking part in the Haute Cuisine as a child, feeling grown up as you nibbled on tiny bites of expensive food, it has lost its appeal on you.

After all, there’s a set number of times you can eat a meal, even Chawanmushi, before you get sick of it.

“Hello? Are you still listening?” Nuisance number 2 asks behind you and you flinch, staring down at the dough that you kneaded for too long. 

“What’s Osamu doing for his exam?” You ask, feeling a little guilty about your attempt at spying.

“Why do you want to know?”

Nevermind. Now you only feel annoyed.

“Just because. Maybe I want to talk about something other than you.”

You move to throw the dough out, only to be stopped by Atsumu’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I messed it up. It’s not going to taste good.”

“So what? I’m hungry.”

“You want to eat gross noodles?” You eye him warily, but he shrugs with a grin.

“It’s definitely going to be better than what I’d produce myself. But since I hate cooking, I’d probably just get takeout pizza anyway.”

“Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yeah?”

“And they let you eat Pizza?”

“They don’t know. Or they don’t care. Whatever you like better. I mean, they gave me a list of stuff I should keep away from but that’s like, all the food I usually consume.”

“Here.” You pull out a pen and paper. “Write down what you eat in a day. Snacks included. And drinks.”

“Why?”

“If I have to endure your chatting, you might as well get something out of this. Now, shoo!”

You turn, lid of your composter already open when his voice reaches you.

“DON’T THROW AWAY THE DOUGH!”

“Fine!” You snap. “You can eat your disgusting noodles!”

They don’t taste that awful in the end, not with your delicate sauce with mussels and steamed broccoli that turned out so good Atsumu licks his plate clean.

-

You’d been part of the track club in Middle School, switched to Volleyball in High School because they had fewer practice hours per week. Your marks had always been more important than any side activities, your future as a part of Haute Cuisine decided before you could walk. But it had been fun, especially when Coach gathered you after practice to talk about the importance of self-care. How certain foods could make or break you. How important salt and minerals were for your body, how food was more than calories, protein, carbs, and fat.

You’re not even a little bit rusty when you scribble down a meal plan for him. You keep it easy and as cheap as possible, light on the cooking because you figured he must be the opposite of his twin in the kitchen if he came begging for food… You’re not sure if you’re buying his excuse of a brotherly fight, but you’re not ashamed to say that you didn’t mind him praising your food over Osamu’s. Suck that, Miya!

Meanwhile, Atsumu’s brows are pulled so high, they’re hiding behind his bangs.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your new meal plan. You follow that, you’ll increase your stamina.”

“But it’s so much work.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“Whatever.” You get up, throw the pen down at the table. Your patience has never been the best anyway.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He follows you to the sink but not to help with the dishes.

“You could cook for me.” He offers it like it’s a great deal. You snort.

“I bet there’s something you want. Something I could do for you…” He wiggles his brows now, looks disgustingly like Osamu when he got a better mark then you. And that kickstarts your brain.

“I want Osamu… I mean the recipe…You know, what Osamu made to get the scholarship. If you can get me that dish of him to try, I’ll cook for you.”

Atsumu grins in a way that doesn’t feel good but he nods.

“Alright, it’s a deal. You’ll cook for me and I get you the dish.” He holds out his hand to sign the deal but you’ve been the daughter of a cutthroat banker for too long to fall for that.

“I’ll cook for a week.” You tell him firmly and watch with a sick satisfaction as his face contorts. He looks awful when he’s pissed and there are definitely not enough moments of the Miya twins looking awful.

“Two weeks.

“One week, only dinner.”

“One week, lunch, dinner and snacks.”

“Are you insane?”

“Do you want Osamu’s food?”

There’s a moment of Silence, and you’re eyeing each other, calculating who’s bluffing and who’s not.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because you feel it in your bones that trying that damned dish will get you a step closer to figuring out what you need to present for your Final.

-

You feel like a drug addict, going down the deep end, when Atsumu appears at your door one week later, carrying a Bento-Box wrapped in the cutest fabric you have ever seen.

“Are those little foxes?” You ask, eyeing the reddish-tinted animals on the grey fabric.

“What if ?” He asks back, nose up in the air.

“Jeez, I was just curious.” You snap back and muster him. He doesn’t look malnourished.

“What did you eat this week?”

“Why do you ask?” He sets the Bento-Box on your table and saunters into your kitchen, peering into the still empty pots and pans.

“You’re an awful liar.”

“Okay, so I told Samu that you cooked for me.” He throws his hands up in the air like you’re the one making a big fuss about things. “Told him it was fingerlickin’ good. Got him all angry and puffy.”

You are not ashamed to say that comment lifts you off your feet just a little bit. Hah!

“So?” You ask cooly, untying the Furoshiki with eager fingers.

“So he insisted that he would cook for me. Everything went according to plan, I pretended it wasn’t as good as your food until I asked for the dish he made for his entry exams.”

“Did you know what it was?” You ask as you lift the lid of the box.

“Maybe.” He says and you can hear in his voice that he knew. He probably didn’t tell you just to experience this.

“He made Onigiri?” You ask, your voice a little shrill.

You had made Chawanmushi, a dish literally to die for, practiced one hundred times, and he beat you with Onigiri?

“Try it.” He reaches for one of the Onigiri in the box and you slap his hand away.

“Mine!” You hiss angrily and his grin is almost feral.

“I’ll take a walk around the block then.” He jokes, moving toward the door. “Leave you alone with it.”

“Leave.” You wave him off. “I’ll make dinner later.”

“Half an hour.”

“Leave!” You huff and the door clicks shut behind him.

-

You bite into the first Onigiri and time stops for a second. 

The rice is cooked to perfection, but you know the different varieties well. He must have splurged on this kind, bought from a boutique farmer of some sorts. 

It’s filled with tuna and spring onion, but it tastes different then all the Tuna Onigiri you’ve had before. You write down all the different things you can taste, compare them to the knowledge you have but still - did he use a spice you don’t know? A combination you’re not familiar with?

The taste lingers, but you cannot put your finger on it. You feel a little weepy too, as if you had just watched your favorite movie from when you were a kid. You sniff and take the other Onigiri, bite into almost cautiously. It’s Tenmusu, your favorite kind of Onigiri.

This time, literal tears run down your cheeks. The shrimp is crisp, the sweet sauce calling you back to childhood, reminding you of the few free afternoons you got to spend with your mother, just the two of you, no work allowed. You only remember to write down the taste and ingredients when the last bite has disappeared and your hands leave the paper stained. 

Well… You’re no closer to figuring out what to make for your finals, but you might be getting your period soon. Why else would you be moved to tears by food?

-

“Onigiri, huh?” You ask Osamu after class the next day. You can’t help yourself.

He looks up from his phone, surprise on his face. It’s ridiculous how good that makes him look.

“What about it?”

“I heard you made Onigiri for your Entry Exam.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiles, the kind of smile that makes you want to slap it off his face. “Tsumu told me he made you try it.”

You can feel your face go slack. WHAT?

“What did you think?” Osamu asks, way too confident for your taste. “Did you like them?”

You can’t decide between a huff and a snort and the sound that does come out reminds you more of a dying walruss.

“They were probably pitying you.” You point out, nose in the air. “I showed up with Kaiseki Ryori. I made Chawanmushi.”

“Ah.” Osamu sounds like he’s not sure what that is. But you’ve gone over that in class, he’s just messing with you.

“Well, when do I get to try it?” 

You blink. “What?” 

“Yeah, it’s only fair, right? After you tried mine.”

You swallow thickly, look around for some help, but you’re the only one’s still in the hallway.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because he does have a point. “As long as I don’t have to eat it.”

His brows furrow and your mind unhelpfully supplies you with the information that his eyes are a different shade than Atsumu’s. Osamu’s eyes are almost as grey as his hair, reminding you of the sky outside. 

His mouth moves and you blink, try to focus on his voice, but fail. Your collar feels too tight around your neck and you pull at it, too aware of Osamu’s eyes that flicker to your neck and stay there. God, what’s going on?”

“What did you say?” You ask in the most snooty voice you can manage. “I wasn’t listening.”

“Why do you cook something you don’t like?” He asks. “Don’t you enjoy cooking?”

Something snaps inside you like a rubberband that has been pulled taut for too long.

“Why do you care?” You sniff and he rolls his eyes. 

“I was just asking.”

“Sure you were. But you’re psychological warfare doesn’t work on me! You can flutter your long eyelashes at someone else!”

Osamu laughs. “I wasn’t-”

“Neither was I. Well, are you coming or not?”

“Where?” 

“You wanted to try my Chawanmushi!”

“Gesundheit.” You turn, not the least bit surprised to see Atsumu standing there. It’s lunchtime for him, he’s coming to collect his goods. “Or was that a codeword for something naughty?”

“Oh god, you’re awful.” 

-

You know that the Chawanmushi has turned out as perfect as all the other times. You can tell by sight and smell, but you cannot bring yourself to try it.

The thought of it has you swallow back bile but you serve it to the brothers with the biggest smile you can manage.

“Here.” You present it in tiny, elegant bowls.

“Are you in pain?” Osamu asks and you drop the smile.

“Go f-” 

“Why is it so tiny?” Atsumu asks, eyeing the bowl skeptically. “I’m hungry.”

“I made you Curry.” You tell him off. “This is just a tasting. You can’t eat full bowls with Kaiseki Ryori, you’d never manage that amount of food.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Atsumu digs in, spoon clinking loudly against the bowl to the point you fear for its life.

He’s done with it before Osamu has even tasted his, still smelling the dish carefully, pulling the spoon through as if to check for clumps.

“It was fine.” Atsumu gives his mark as one would comment on an order of KFC. “Now, the Curry?” 

You huff but don’t get up, eyes still trained on Osamu. Then, finally, he brings the spoon to his mouth. If you’re focusing a little too much on his full lips, that’s entirely because he’s the world's slowest eater at the moment and nothing else.

His face remains passive. 

Cold sweat runs down your back as he slowly but surely finishes the dish and nods appraisingly.

“It was good.” Osamu says calmly. “The Curry?”

Breathing is a little hard at the moment, but you manage to get up, collect the bowls - you don’t throw them at the floor in a fit of rage and you’re very proud of yourself for that - and get them safely to the kitchen sink.

Your hands shake a little as you serve the Curry in three different plates, but if the boys notice, they don’t comment on it. 

“I hope you like it.” Your voice is back to normal, your wounded heart tucked safely back into your chest. “It’s packed with protein and healthy vegetables to make sure you have all the necessary nutrients. You could eat this every day and wouldn’t have to worry about losing out on anything.”

Atsumu digs in without another word. He beams around the spoon, curses loudly.

“This is so good.” He says, mouth full.

“Pig.” Osamu announces next to him, puts the first spoon into his mouth and-

You can see it, in the widening of his eyes and the light blush that appears on the height of his unfairly sharp cheekbones. He likes it. He likes it very much.

You should probably feel a bit more upset about the fact that they insult your Chawanmushi but get high on your Curry, but then again, it just feels good to watch Osamu have the same reaction to your Curry that you had with his Onigiri.

“You should make this for the Exam.” Osamu points out in between a groan and another spoonful of Curry. “It’s amazing.”

“No!” Atsumu shakes his head, still speaks with his mouth full. “The Udon you made yesterday. That was crazy good.”

“What Udon?” Osamu’s voice has a tint to it you cannot place. Does he know about the Onigiri you tried but not about the deal itself? Is he jealous he didn’t get to try them?

“Okay, so she makes the Noodles herself, right? This time without the freaky black stuff-”

“Sepia,” you throw in but he ignores you, “But she used pork belly for the sauce and something creamy and mushrooms, I think-”

“Shiitake.” 

“And I tell you, Samu, it was so so good! Like, it reminded me of Mom making that stew, you know? When Dad had that big sale thing and we got to celebrate it?”

Osamu’s eyes light up in a way that has you looking down at your food, heart thrumming in your chest like a hummingbird on speed.

“Can you-” He hesitates for a second. “Can you make me that?”

“I could.” You point out, not at all feeling the upper hand. You feel nervous instead as if this is a test or something worse. You swallow thickly, try to think of something to wager against it. Your mind is unhelpful at best, offering the possibility of a date - as if! 

“If I get your recipe. For the Onigiri.”

Osamu’s mouth clicks shut. He blinks, clearly surprised. Then he grins, the kind of grin that tells you this isn’t going to work in your favor, at all.

“Sure. So, Udon tomorrow?”

“I was going to make Katsudon tomorrow.” You point out, pissed that he’s overthrowing your meal plan. Atsumu looks like he’s gotten a glimpse of heaven.

“Really?”

-

You hate to think about it, but the week is nearing its end and Osamu feels less like the devil and more like the dangerously cute boy from your class now. The dangerously cute boy who’s going to get a better mark than you, take the promised internship at one of Japan's leading five-star restaurants and laugh in your face if you don’t shape up right now.

Your father is as helpful as ever.

He’s currently obsessed with the Yakimono part of Kaiseki Ryori, taking you out to dinner each weekend only to try new variants that you should use for your Final Exam.

The food is good, there’s no denying that, but it lacks the emotional touch you had with the Onigiri.

The same Onigiri that you’ve made three times already. They never taste like Osamu’s.

You’re suspecting that he skipped on one ingredient in the recipe, the one thing you could not put your finger on when you tried them. 

“Hey.” Atsumu’s waiting at your door when you return from coffee with your mother. She had been even less helpful, talking about the new dessert dish she was creating. You might have gotten her cooking skills, but you hate baking almost as much as Chawanmushi.

“I thought we said we would skip the cooking over the weekend.” 

“Yeah, about that.” He lifts a heavy bag. “I wanted to ask for a favor.”

“I’m not setting for you.”

“Why would I- Never mind, I wanted to ask… Could you like, show me… how to cook?”

You blink in surprise.

“Why would I teach you that? Don’t you have your brother?”

“He’s not a good teacher.” Atsumu points out and you snort.

“So you want to learn how to cook? And stop harassing me and Osamu?”

“No, no, I will still harass the two of you for food, but it looked easy when you did it, so I thought you could teach me, maybe?”

“Fine.” 

“I’m even pa- Fine? Oh, wow, that was easy.”

“If I can ask you some questions in turn without you judging me?”

“Me, judging someone? Never.” He puts a hand on his chest, probably aiming for his heart, but he’s now swearing on his left ribcage.

-

You watch like a Hawk as Atsumu prepares the Omurice. He’s got a bad habit of getting distracted, but he’s not a bad student.

“So…” You swallow your nerves. “You and Osamu used to play Volleyball together, right?”

“Yeah. He could have gone Pro, like me. But he said…” He raises his hands to make air quotes and lowers his voice into a deeper pitch to mock Osamu, “Skillswise I'm just as good as you. But I think that, when all's said and done, you love volleyball just a teensy bit more than me.”

“And you were okay with that?” 

“Nah.” Atsumu flips the Omurice onto a plate and hands it over to you. “Try.”

“It’s good.” You hand it back to him. “Eat.”

-

When Atsumu leaves, you’re left with even more questions than before.

What does it mean to love something so much you’re willing to pass up something good?

Atsumu is making good money as a Pro, even now. But Osamu had no idea if he was going to make it into this school until he tried.

And why did he make freaking Onigiri?

Midnight has come and gone when you put a jacket over your sleepshirt and slip out of your apartment in nothing but booty shorts and bunny slippers.

You’re not sure if there’s a nightguard. There might be, this is still a mixed dorm filled with hormonal teens and tweens. 

Even though you’ve never been to Osamu’s place before, you know the route by heart. You had memorized it in a childish fit when you realized his room was just below the fire escape.

You wouldn’t allow him to survive you in case of an emergency.

You knock twice before you can hear movement. The door opens and you almost swallow your tongue.

His hair is in disarray as if he’d dragged his hands through it all night and there’s the imprint of his pillow left on his cheek. He’s topless and you keep your eyes trained on the imprint on his cheek as if you don’t notice his happy trail or his still well-trained abs. 

He blinks slowly and yawns.

“What’s up?” He asks. Something moves over his face, quick like a sparrow. “Shit, are you hurt? Did something happen?!”

“No, no, I… Shit, I don’t know, I-”

“Come in.” He pulls you inside, but he calculates wrong, uses too much force for your quivering body. You end up mushed against his chest, face plant right into the warm skin.

If you die like this, you won’t even be mad about it.

“Shit, sorry.” He grabs you and puts you at a distance again, blush high on his cheeks. 

“Your Onigiri.” You start, before he can realize that you’re flustered too. “You didn’t list all the ingredients.”

“I did.”

“Did not. They don’t taste the same.”

“Ah.” He makes that insufferable sound like he knows everything you don’t. 

You want to poke his abs, but you decide against it, mainly because it would make you look weird. But they do look ni-

“Tea?” He asks and you hold your right hand with your left, just in case it turns sentient. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your Onigiri don’t taste like mine, because I make them for someone.”

“What?”

“The Tuna one.” He looks at the kettle instead of you, but his voice is wistful, distant. “I always make that one for Tsumu.”

“And the Tenmusu?”

“It’s my Mom’s favorite.” He says softly and you can’t help it, but you start to cry.

“Your Mom likes Tenmusu too?”

“Ah, shit, don’t tell me- Wait, here, take this…” He hands you a tissue to blow your nose and dry your tears. 

“So you’re saying your secret ingredient is love? You’re really going to stand there and make me believe that you got the scholarship because you put love in your food?”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me. But there’s a reason your Chawanmushi did not taste as good as your Curry.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Gladly.” He smirks at you and this time your hand is faster than your mind, pointer finger digging into the firm muscle of his right pectoral.

“Don’t mess with me.”

“Why not?” His face moves closer to you, or did you move closer to his? “Isn’t it fun?”

Whoever moved first doesn’t matter now as his breath washes over you. His eyes skip to your lips and you lick them, no thoughts left in your brain.

Behind him, the kettle whistles, signaling that the water’s cooking, but neither of you moves. 

This could end very badly, or very great, however you want to look at it. 

Your mind, helpful as ever, comes up with a sentence that just slips out of your mouth unprompted.

“Atsumu said that you loved Volleyball a little-”

He draws back the moment he hears you speak, face now closed like a window that has let down its shutters. 

“Right, Atsumu.” He says, interrupting you. “You should get back to the bed.”

“But the tea…”

“I forgot.” He takes the kettle off the stove. “I was going to make a hot water bottle for myself. Sorry.” 

-

Somehow, somewhere, you took a wrong turn.

Maybe it was when you started liking Osamu, in this weird way that has you enjoy the bickering and the competitiveness. Maybe it was even before that, when you let Atsumu get away with his needling, fed him Udon instead of throwing him out.

Or maybe it was even before that, when you didn’t put up a fight everytime your father decided for you, when your mother put work before spending time with you. 

It’s a good thing that Finals are right around the corner.

You can’t focus in most classes, left staring holes into Osamu’s back. 

Atsumu’s stopped showing up himself, probably now a master in cooking for himself. Or he’s gone back to Osamu, to fantastic Onigiri and whatever else he knows how to make.

-

Four days before the Final, someone bangs on your door.

“Jeez, I’m coming.” You pull the door open to reveal Atsumu, soaked and clearly pissed..

“You okay?” You ask. “Or do you need a towel?”

“Why are you not a couple?” He asks back. “Like, the tension was there, you were practically undressing each other at the table - in front of me, might I add - and yet you’re not even speaking to each other? I even cooked all my meals these past weeks in the hopes of hearing good news but Samu’s acting like a bug crawled up his ass and died.”

“What are you even talking abou-”

“Oh, don’t fool me.” He steps inside and moves toward your bathroom without asking. “I just ran here because all I get from Samu are cryptic messages. Did you say something?”

“No, I-”

“Spill.” Atsumu points at the kitchentable, hesitates for a second, then he points at the kitchen itself. “Make some food while your at it. Also, can I have some change of clothes?”

You make Okayu with ginger and honey, the rice porridge a comfort to your heart and a boost to Atsumu’s immune system.

It’s not a long tale. It could be, probably, but you refuse to go into more detail than necessary. Atsumu might be kind of a friend, in his weird, annoying way, but he’s still Osamu’s twin brother.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” He grabs the bag with his clothes and stalks off, dressed in one of your oversized hoodies and bright pink pajama pants, both things slightly too short on him.

“Give him a chance when he comes back,” are his parting words.

But Osamu does not show up.

Neither does he the next morning in class.

-

One of the teachers calls you over after class.

“You and Miya-san are pretty close, right?” She starts, speaks on while you’re still trying not to choke on your spit. “Could you bring him the notes from today? He called in sick. Tell him to take care and rest, so that he can take part in the Final.”

“I-I will.”

You end up in your own room instead, debating if you should just leave everything in front of his door and run. If he’s not at the final, you automatically win. But that’s not a win you’d feel good about, if you’re being honest to yourself.

Before you know it, you find yourself making Oyaku again, with Ginger and Honey, the one food that always gives you comfort and boosts your health. The process is simple, but it still calms you down every time. When it’s done, you look down at two portions and know what to do.

-

“Osamu?” The door is closed, but you can hear faint shuffling behind it. “I made you Oyaku. I heard you’re sick and got your notes from the teachers. I didn’t tell them that I’m a friend of yours, but she was convinced of it and didn’t let me change her mind. But I… we kinda are friends, right?” You feel so weird talking to the closed door. 

“Even if you don’t like me, we got to keep up the reputation. Eat the Oyaku, okay? Winning doesn’t feel the same if you kick yourself out of the game.”

You put everything in front of his door and leave, lingering at the end of the hallway, just out of sight, until you hear his door. When you look back, the Oyaku is gone and all you have to do is wait.

-

Osamu is already outside when you step out of the classroom. 

“Already finished?”

“Onigiri doesn’t take that long to make.” 

“Ah, right.” You nod, don’t know if you should avoid his gaze or follow your instinct and look a bit more closely. He sounds healthy at least.

“What did you make?” His voice is gruff when he asks.

“Ginger Honey Oyaku.” You answer, voice soft. “Which might confuse the teachers because I had all the ingredients ready for honey-glazed pork belly but I decided against it at the last second.”

“I’d have loved to try that pork belly.” Osamu sighs dreamily. “But that Oyaku was so good. I could eat that everyday and never get tired of it.”

“Same.” You smile but it falters when you feel his eyes on you and you know you’ve got to say it. “I made it for you.”

“Yeah, I know-”

“No, what you said… about the Entry Exam.” You can feel your heartbeat, like the fluttering of hummingbird wings. If you’re going to pass out during your confession, you’re going to kill Osamu for it.

Behind you, the door opens and two more students step out. Osamu looks at them and back at you and you nod, point down the hallway. “Let’s take a walk?”

There’s a broom closet not far down and you slip inside only to regret it seconds later. There’s barely enough space for the two of you, his breath washing over you as you try to focus on the words you need to say. Out loud, so he can hear them too.

“I want to beat you.” You can hear him snort, but you keep your gaze on your hands. You won’t be able to speak if you look into his eyes. “But you’re also really funny and caring and cute, in a way. I could see myself, I mean, I already, you know-”

“What about Tsumu?” He asks, voice strangely hoarse.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you like him more? You don’t feel the need to beat him every two seconds, right?”

You roll your eyes and groan.

“Seriously? The best thing about Atsumu is that he looks kinda like you.”

If you had wanted to say more - you didn’t, but you hate letting anyone else have the last word - it leaves your mind the second his lips press onto yours. 

Your mind’s not yet caught up, but your body is, hands dragging through his hair to pull him closer, to marvel at the softness of it - what conditioner is he using? - to have him a little closer.

His hands are on your hip, your back, roam over your shoulders, leaving warm trails and goosebumps behind.

Then there’s bright light and a shrill shriek and you burst away from each other only to face one of your teachers.

“What? The indecency! During an exam no less! Detention! Detention!” Her garbled words don’t make much sense, but the last word you understand.

Osamu sends you a look, his eyes speaking of little guilt and a promise to continue this latter. You can’t help but feel the same.

-

As it turns out, Detention automatically overrules your exceptional Exam marks. Neither of you wins the internship. Neither of you cares. 

Osamu had applied to an Onigiri shop not far from the school as a second option and with your last name you have no trouble securing an internship with a well-known nutritionist for Pro Athletes. 

Your father is not happy about your change in dreams, but when you explain the earning capacity of this position, and the business plan you’re already halfway through making, your excitement swaps over.

Your mother, as usual, barely listens. But you take it in stride, her usual droning on about a recipe she’s working on, by thinking about how in less than an hour, you’ll see Osamu again.

-

“You guys owe me.” Atsumu declares during Movie night. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, the last piece of the Pizza in his hands. “I’m talking about food for life.”

“We could have done it without you,” Osamu insists, arm around you, face nuzzled into your hair. He pretends he’s watching the movie, but you know better. He’s been thinking about the cheese crackers in your pantry for hours.

“If I hadn’t pulled you out in the rain to talk things through, you wouldn’t have gotten sick and your girlfriend wouldn’t have made Oyaku for you! That’s enough reason for you to love me forever!”

“If you hadn’t interfered he wouldn’t have had to think we were dating instead.” You point out and dig your hands into Osamu’s grip on your arms, moving away from him.

“Babe, what-” He starts but you nod in the direction of your pantry. “Get the crackers. I can’t watch you any longer.”

“Really?” His face lights up like a child in front of a Christmas tree. It’s worth the ridiculous price you paid for the crackers.

“Really.”

He kisses you and the moment could be perfect. But there’s still Atsumu, fake gagging in the background.

My Kofi if you want to tip me