#bc they just made no effort n didn’t seem to care

[visionofhope04]

Viper (Part 1)

Batfamily x Batsib!Reader

Part 1 (here) Part 2 (coming soon!)

Ages(probably not accurate, just go with it please): Alfred (Immortal), Bruce (45-ish), Barbara (30), Dick (29), Cass (26), Jason (26), Stephanie (21), Tim (20), Reader (18), Damian (16)

Warning(s): cursing, explosions (not detailed), speak of poison and poisoning, (very) minor violence

Part 2 of this headcannon

A/N: Sorry this took so long 😭. So in the preview I posted I said I'd try using third person and they/them pronouns. It hasn't been working out which is why I didn't post this sooner, I'm sooooo sorry :( I've switched it back to using you because I figured it's still inclusive. Hope you guys enjoy this tho! I’m ngl I had a heart attack bc I thought this draft got lost to the void and I was abt to post it.

—

Your boots pounded ferociously on the concrete as you ran and made a sharp right turn into another alleyway. He wasn't far behind you, it would only be a matter of time before you were caught. You had to lose him, fast. Your heart beat against your ribcage, your breaths came out in pants from your nose. You were sweating, and not just from the physical effort. Despite being a trained assassin, you were nervous. Getting caught would change everything, but you were confident in your abilities. However, that did little to stop the lingering feeling of dread you felt every time he got a little too close. You sped up and turned right again into a narrow alley. The Red Hood, who was chasing you, did not expect this and couldn’t slow down, and passed the alley. Frustrated, he backpedaled and ran down the alley he saw you go into.

He reached the end of the alley and slowed to a stop. The alleyway opened up to an empty street, and there was no sign of you anywhere. All he saw was the odd stains on the alley’s walls, a dumpster, and garbage bags strewn about. He lost you.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, then kicked the dumpster for good measure.

You jolted in your hiding spot, hopeful he wouldn’t notice the extra weight when he kicked it. Your heart began pounding harder, as if it was trying to escape your body, if he found you, you honestly thought it might. Blood rushed in your ears as you waited with bated breaths. Would he open it? Find you? Compromise everything you’ve worked so hard for? You wouldn’t go down without a fight, but with the Lazarus pit in his blood and not much of it in yours, you doubted you’d be able to take him with strength alone. You’d have to be smart about it, as always. Though you didn’t know how your poisons would affect someone the Lazarus pit had such a strong hold on, you’d stupidly never tried it before. You doubt your mother or grandfather would’ve approved of it, as they would’ve been the ones you tested it on (never Damian, you’d never do that to your precious little sibling), but the knowledge would’ve been helpful at the moment. You desperately hoped that he wouldn’t find you, so you wouldn’t have to find out on him. You didn’t want to kill him after all, he’s a part of Damian’s new family. You couldn't ruin your little sibling's chance at a family, at least one of you could find happiness.

After agonizing moments that seemed like years with your overactive brain, you heard him mutter a few more profanities and his footsteps receded. You held your breath as you waited and observed the sounds you heard. Water dripped from somewhere, most likely a roof, and then rustling. Your heart began to pound harder, assuming he was searching, only for you to hear a quiet ‘meow’ and instantly relax. Once you were sure no one was there, you carefully lifted the dumpster lid and peeked. No one. Perfect. You slinked out of the dumpster and grimaced at the smell. Gross, yes, but it worked. It wasn't by far the worst place you've hidden in, but you'd definitely need to shower as soon as you got back to your hideout. The things you do for this job. You trudged in the direction of your current main base of operations, taking great care to stay out of everyone's sight, especially Oracle's.

—

That was your first run-in with Red Hood. It took him longer than expected to figure out what was going on. Took him even longer to find you. You didn't mind though, it gave you more time to work with. It wouldn't be long before Red Hood kept failing to catch you and decided to involve the Big Bad Bat, though. With Batman would come Robin, then Red Robin, and then Nightwing. If Robin found out, it would ruin the whole plan.

The plan was simple, really. Take over Gotham's underground unnoticed, gather members and create a gang, find a perfect time to cause a gang war to distract the Batfamily, and then Talia would initiate her plans to take over Gotham while the bats are busy. Well, that's what the agreed plan was. You'd always been a loose cannon. Since Red Hood had been so close to catching you, the "unnoticed" part had been foiled, albeit a bit later than anticipated. 

"Hey boss, what brings you in today?" Your loyal henchman, Hopper asked you.

"We've got a job to do. Grab some explosives. We're sending a message."

—

“These places feel haunted.” Willow, another one of your most trusted henchmen, said as she placed one of the four explosives into place. 

“It’s probably the Joker’s victims’ souls, he loves warehouses, like typical villains. Maybe they’re here to warn us, ‘Don’t go into the basement, that’s where we’re buried!’. Or maybe they’ll kill us, who knows.”

“This isn’t a joke, you’re scaring me Tina!”

“You guys done?” You ask impatiently, but reluctantly slightly amused.

“Yup.”

— 

"Seven simultaneous explosions have just been spotted around the perimeter of the city."

"Head to the site closest to your current location. If you're paired with someone, split up. Oracle, call in Nightwing and Red Hood if possible. Do not engage with anyone, survey the damage only. "

"Yes sir!" Chirped Spoiler.

— 

After two hours, at 3 am, everyone returned to the cave.

“I take everything I said about explosions back, I hate explosives.”

“Welcome to the club, Timmy! I’ve hated explosives ever since-”

A chorus of groans resonated throughout the batcave, “We know, Jason!”

“You’re not special Todd, most of us here have died in one way or another.”

“Yeah but have you-”

As Damian and Jason began bickering and the whole group headed to the lockers, Dick pulled Bruce aside. 

“B, I didn’t want to say this in front of the others, but I think something bigger is going on. I found these objects around the warehouse I investigated.”

Batman took the bag Nightwing offered and observed the strange objects. Metal letters. Two A’s, one I, one L, and one T.

“It spells Talia.” He observes.

“She would never do something like that if she was behind it, and she wouldn’t leave a calling card, especially not in that form.”

"I know. Hmm. The damage seemed deliberate. It only destroyed the warehouses on the edge of the city. It caused minimal to no damage to surrounding properties."

"You're saying whoever did this is sending a message, about Talia." Nightwing inquired.

"Precisely."

“But who would do this? And why would they warn us? And what exactly are they warning us about? They must be close to her to have an idea of what she’s planning.”

“We’re going to find out.” He says, then turns to Tim, who had just exited the lockers. "Red Robin, check all security footage at all explosion sites and around them, report back all your findings."

Red Robin nods and heads to the Batcomputer to get to work.

—

Dun dun dunnnnn! So how'd you like it? It's been a while since I've wrote anything and it's because I hit a MAJOR writing block. Hope you enjoyed! I was fighting with these tags fr

Tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @rosemary1225 @azazel-nyx @chevelledahuman

@snowcatlove

@danonered @cantbecreative

[heartpascal]

can we get more father figure joel? You know when Ellie killed the David, and then Joel comforted her? Maybe that but instead of Ellie it’s the reader, thank you <3

i am good

▹ joel miller x platonic!f!reader

▹ — summary: joel finally sees the darkness in himself reflected in you.

▹ — a/n: ok first request i hope it’s ok!! i know its kinda similar to the game but erm. its reader and joel this time!! and reader is much much less ok with the whole. murder thing but its ok bc joel is there to fix it &lt;3 yes he is your dad no you don’t get a choice he has decided it

▹ — warnings: allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens but the intention was there), vivid descriptions of murder, reader is misled and attacked, similar to the game with ellie (so kinda spoilers?), joel is ready to kill for you (and does), lots of blood, tears, father figure joel, lots of angst and upset, vomiting

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Getting air into your lungs was proving to be one of the hardest things you’d had to do for a long time, which, considering the journey you’d been on, was shocking. The act of simply breathing should have come easily to you, but it didn’t. It couldn’t. Not as you saw the reflection of your own bloodied face in the knife that was held up, a clear threat polluting the air.

You knew you had probably been lucky to even make it as far as you had — born into a world full of death and chaos and infection, you were bound to meet your gruesome end some day, but you didn’t want to die.

For the first time in a long time, your chest ached for the breath you couldn’t seem to provide, the want, the need to live almost suffocating you on its own. You had someone now, someone who cared whether you survived or not, who felt like you deserved even a glimpse at a happy ending, even if he didn’t like to state those things out loud.

Resentment was growing in your stomach, filling you with the need to be sick. Why did you always have to listen to the words Joel didn’t say, rather than the ones he did say? If you had just listened, conserved your trust for those who actually earned it, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

When your hunting escapades had led you into a small horde of infected, you had just blindly put your faith in the aging couple who came to your aid, not thinking of what they might want for their troubles. You’d never had to escape without Joel’s help before, and you quickly discovered you weren’t all that good at it.

The two of them had dragged you back to their nearby settlement which they shared with a couple dozen others, all whilst you were kicking and screaming, trying to get away, your resolve fading each time they hit you to near unconsciousness. When they passed by a young man stood beside an older lady, you had called out to them, “Please, help me, please.”

“Gotta get something in return for the gear we wasted saving her ass,” the man had snickered to the two of them as glanced at the couple, just nodding at his words before turning back to their conversation.

You’d been knocked out when they approached a large community house, just getting a glimpse of the carpeted floor before the woman had struck her gun against the side of your head.

You had woken up in the middle of a chilled room, your arms straining with effort as you pushed yourself to sit up, seeing the woman holding a knife towards you. You couldn’t be sure how long it had been since they’d taken you, not with the way your stomach clenched with pain. The whole reason you’d been out there was to solve that, but you were sure that it had gotten worse.

“Listen, please,” your scratchy voice came out, much quieter than you had meant for it to be, “I—I can get you replacements for everything you used, but you gotta let me go.”

“We don’t gotta do anything, girl.” The lady snickered, as if even you saying such a thing was amusing. It made you feel small, powerless.

She got up, hearing her name being called, Cheryl, you noted, and sneered at you. Her skin was dull, and she looked vaguely ill, but that didn’t change anything about her threatening demeanour. At least one thing you’d taken from travelling with Joel was never underestimate your opponent, no matter how small, or ill, or kind they may appear to be.

Her hand grazed your face as she strode past, “Yeah,” she said quietly, like she was complimenting you, “You’ll do nicely. We’ll both enjoy you.”

You managed to avoid throwing up until she left the room, hearing a lock click into place. All that came up was bile, the clench of your stomach just becoming sharper afterwards. Your muscles felt weak, likely beginning to waste away with you having been inactive for a little while and injured, less energy wasted on muscle cells and more going into fighting off the infections that were likely trying to poison your blood.

Scanning the room, like Joel would’ve advised you to, you found nothing of much use to you. An old rickety chair, perhaps, but that would only help you if you could lift it, and you weren’t convinced you had the strength left within you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

Something deep in your chest nagged at you, the longing for Joel, probably. He had saved you on countless occasions, and you could only hope that it had been long enough that he had finally gotten worried. It seemed likely, he really did worry a lot for a man who wasn’t meant to care, but then there was the factor of him finding you, managing to take down all the people in the settlement that might fight to protect each other and—

You took a deep breath, finally feeling your lungs expand and take in some oxygen, and pulled yourself from the ground, keeping the bile that threatened to rise down as the nausea hit you.

The chair was lighter than you expected it to be, the insides of the wooden frame likely rotten away, and you managed to pull it towards the door, waiting beside it with shallow breaths. When the lock finally began to click open, you raised the lightweight chair as high as you could, and smacked it down against the person who entered the room. Splinters flew from it as it impacted, and you heard the clatter of metal as a tray they carried hit the ground with them.

Food, maybe, to keep you alive for… whatever it was that they had planned for you, you reasoned, but didn’t look to check. Instead, you grabbed a mostly-intact leg of the chair that caused splinters to dig into your palm, and stepped over the body of the man who had taken you, exiting quickly.

Footsteps hurried you, and you ducked behind a booth as they approached the room you were being kept in. There were lanterns lit all around the room, giving it a warm look that greatly contrasted the cold air and feel it had.

“Shit!” Cheryl cursed, and you saw her bend down to check on the man from over the top of your booth. A radio crackled though the air, before, “Lewis is down, the girl’s out. Anybody got eyes?”

Your fingers shook and you gripped on to the booth to stop them, hearing the distorted reply of whoever was on the other end of the radio, “She ain’t got out, yet, she’s gotta be in there with you. You need backup?”

“No,” Cheryl replied, her cold voice sending shivers down your back, “I’ve got her.”

The drag of Lewis’ clothes against the floor made you peak your head up, seeing her drag him into the room, before she exited and locked him inside. You ducked back down, heart hammering. You couldn’t escape from them in an open forest — how would you get out of a locked down building?

“Come on out, kid. It’s okay, you just gotta start behaving yourself.” She called, her slow footsteps failing to mask the sound of her unsheathing her knife. It wasn’t okay, it was very far from okay, you would argue, and you could feel that crushing fear of death pushing down on your shoulders, your chest constricting once again.

You tried to reassure yourself — you had faced countless amounts of infected and come out on the other side, what was one woman with very bad intentions? But it didn’t make you feel better, not when it was another human, who could feel exactly what you felt.

Her footsteps approached, and you leaped from where you were in the booth, trying to run as far away from her as fast as you could, but she caught up to you with surprising ease, your muscles clearly weaker than initially thought, and she grasped the back of your shirt, pulling you to a stop as you fell to the ground.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You cried out as she knelt down, one knee beside you and another pressing against your stomach, knife approaching your throat as soon as she settled you firmly against the carpet. It was red.

“You could’ve made this real easy for all of us,” she muttered your name, and you froze, having forgotten the way you’d yelled it out to them in the midst of the battle. “Be a good girl, now.”

You heard gunfire outside, and when her face glanced toward the guarded front door, you twisted underneath her, pushing yourself away to find enough room to kick the knee against the floor out from under her. She fell, her chin hitting the ground with a satisfying crack, and when she cried out, anger overcame you.

“You were gonna hurt me,” You said aloud, almost as if it was a realisation, rather than just fact. Your eyes hardened, gaze going red as you snatched the knife from her weakened grip. She reached out to try and snatch it back, but only got the drops of your blood that fell from the blade as you held onto it, twisting it until you finally held the handle. “Why— why were you going to hurt me?”

Her response didn’t filter through your ears, and the rage at how easily she and Lewis were going to do it pulsed, making your vision go blurry. When she sat up, tumbling forward to take you down again, you swiped her own knife until you felt the drag of something resisting it, and then you pulled harder, feeling something warm gushing down your hand.

Cheryl’s breath stuttered slightly, her hands rising to her chest as she groaned in pain. You looked down to your hands, where they were coated in a red that was darker than the carpet below them, and you were so lost that you didn’t notice her hand coming below yours, hitting it so hard that the knife went flying to the other end of the carpet.

Like a reflex, your fists came down on her face, feeling the shift of bones beneath your knuckles as they shattered upon contact. You didn’t stop, too wrapped up in the fact that you didn’t want to die, that she was going to hurt you, to kill you when she was done, she was going to tear you apart and throw away the pieces, she was going to take away what little humanity had left, she—

Arms pulled you away from the body beneath you, arms much stronger than your own, and you screamed, yelled out with your broken voice, “I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking kill you, get off of me! I’ll kill you!”

The person shushed you, only holding tighter as you thrashed, turning away from Cheryl where she… wasn’t breathing. You stopped, tense muscles in your body going slack and burning as you stared at her, at her body, lifeless and covered in blood.

“Kid, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” said the person holding you— said Joel. Your hands dropped from where you had scratched his forearm, his arm covered in blood — though whether it was his, or Cheryl’s, or yours, you didn’t know.

He loosened his grip on you, eyebrows creased in concern as your entire body slipped when he moved his arms away, as if you couldn’t even hold yourself up.

“No… she— it wasn’t, I didn’t—” you trailed off, unsure of what to say, the words dead on your tongue, because you didn’t what? Didn't mean to kill her?

Joel followed your blank eyes to the body he’d pulled you from, and he turned your head towards him quickly, eyes hard. “No.” He said, and at your somewhat confused expression, he continued, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Joel, I—”

“No,” he repeated, and pulled your head towards him, keeping you looking away from Cheryl as a gunshot rang through the room, echoing in your ears so loudly you couldn’t hear Joel at first, as he held up the smoking gun for you to see, “—killed her, see? I killed her.”

“They were going… they wanted to—” You choked on the words, feeling that bile come creeping back up your throat, and you lurched away from Joel as it came out, feeling him pull your hair back from your face.

Something in his eyes settled, however, at the choice of word you’d used — they. So this body wasn’t the only one in here? His question was answered by a bang at a door on the other side, the way your entire body flinched at the sound.

The door splintered, and a battered man came tumbling out, hurrying over to where he could see people crowded. His face went red, and he began to shout, “You fucking bitch—!”

Joel shot one between the eyes, and the man crumpled before he could get anything else out. He turned back to you, to where you were hunched in on yourself. He shoved his gun back in its rightful place, and held your cheeks between his hands, gunpowder residue transferring to your skin.

“Do you hear me?” His muted voice said, and you looked up to his face with a confused shake of your head, “It was you or them, and the only answer is you.”

“But, Joel,” you were interrupted, and he wiped the underneath of your eye of a tear that you hadn’t even known had fallen.

“No. You listen to me, remember?” Joel affirmed, and you nodded, the tears falling more now that you’d acknowledged them, your hands shaking as you tried to look past Joel, but he just pulled your face back to him. “I’ve got you, kid. Keep your eyes on me.”

You turned your face into his neck as you all but threw yourself into his arms, and they wrapped around you like they’d been waiting to do so. You missed his pained expression at the words, and the way heartache burrowed in his chest as he stood the two of you up, his knees clicking.

He swept you up, as if you were the smallest and lightest thing he’d carried in years, and he carried you away, your eyes staying glued to him as the two of you left behind the carnage he’d caused in looking for you.

[lincolndjarin]

my way.

pairing : oberyn martell x f!reader

summary : being the prince of dorne can often be a rather stressful job, it's hard to give, and give, and give. sometimes you just need to be on the receiving end for a little while.

warnings, tags, etc : five seconds of plot to build up to a whole lot of porn, pegging (obvi), medieval strap on, glass toys, fingering, oberyn sucks the strap, allusions to other partners, referring to a dildo as a cock, multiple orgasms, overstimulation if you squint, premature ejaculation?? idk he cums fast bc i'm a sucker for that, cum play, reader has brief penis envy idk if that's the term but yeah, spit as lube bc its the olden days or whatever, anal sex, soft & loving sex, sort of a gentle dom vibe from reader, they're married <3 <3 <3, aftercare, i didn't really edit this as much as i should have (i'm sleepy) so apologies in advance

a/n : hello lovelies !!!! i am back from my little break with a little middle aged man pegging!! check out @wannab-urs who put together this entire project for a full masterlist of everyones works soon <3 apologies if i'm a little rusty i'm still getting back into my writing groove :3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Everything always has to be his way. 

If you didn’t love him so much it would probably irritate you more. And when it does bother you he always does his best to fix it but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. Your sweet prince has always done right by you but he’s never done it your way, and when things don’t go exactly as he wants them to he becomes a real pain. 

You know it isn’t entirely his fault of course. The combination of never being told no and having to make decisions that affect the people of Dorne in real time, often leaves him stressed beyond comprehension. 

Today it seems to be particularly bad as he paces around your shared chambers. You had spent your day reading and baking bread, everything had been perfectly fine until he burst through the door, rambling about a funding dispute he’s been having with his brother for weeks now. You can tell by the glint in his eye that things clearly aren’t going his way, before you get a chance to comfort him he snaps at you. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” It’s a small critique, you have been staring at him waiting for this sort of thing, so you take control of the situation rather quickly. 

“Let me give you a chance to apologize before this becomes a fight.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. He immediately picks up on the annoyance in your voice as his features soften from anger to shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He really means it as he bows his head a bit. “It’s just- It’s been a difficult day.” He makes his way over to you, taking one of your hands, kissing your knuckles. “I’m sorry, my stars.”

“I know, my moon, it’s okay.” You move the hand he holds to his lips, cradling his face briefly as he smiles, to your dismay it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s still tense. 

“I think I’d go mad if I didn’t get to come home to you each day.” You don’t doubt that. 

“Why don’t you let me help you out a little?” You wrap your arms around him, letting your fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. “Let me take care of you.” You barely speak above a whisper now as his body starts to relax in response to your touch. He walks you towards the bed until the backs of your knees hit the mattress, just as expected he immediately takes control of the situation, barely letting you get another word in as his hands slide down your waist like they’ve done countless times before except this time you catch his wrists before he can get that far. “Can you lay down for me?” The moment you ask the question he raises an eyebrow before complying, moving to sit with his back against the headboard as you go to your nightstand. 

You’ve used the toy a few times before with your other partners but as far as you know Oberyn’s never even seen it. You haven’t made any effort to hide it from him but he’s always so quick to act when it’s just the two of you, he never gives you much of a chance to do anything but take what he gives. No wonder he’s so stressed, he’s never taken a moment to just receive. 

The moment you crawl up the bed to him he’s already back on you. All teeth and hands as he pulls you against him, you have to force yourself to pull away from him though it pains you greatly. 

“Not yet- I want to try something new.” You don’t give him a chance to question as you reach across him to your nightstand. You just had a new toy made, hand blown glass, for this sort of occasion, as you toss it down next to him his eyes squint in confusion before going wide. 

“Where did you get that, my love?” His words drawl a bit, his Dornish accent hangs heavy in the air as you lift your dress over your head, tossing it aside, sitting before him completely bare as you slip into the leather straps, cinching the buckles carefully before taking the toy and holding it in one hand languidly. 

“A glass smith nearby has been more than willing to experiment with his craft for me. Is this something you’re interested in trying?” You can already tell what his answer is going to be based on his expression but you still want to hear him say it. 

“Of course, I’d try anything for you.” He purrs softly as you push him back into the pillows. You lay him back, an action he’s done to you countless times before, tugging at the cords of his robe. Between the two of you, eager to get him undressed, it only takes a moment before the fabric hits the floor. Once he’s as bare as you are you’re able to see just how much the idea thrills him as his red tipped cock slaps against his stomach. 

“Do you think you can relinquish control for just a little while, my prince?” You rake your nails against his chest lightly as he nods. “Good. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, put all your focus on taking what I give you, do you understand?” You stop your hands movement downwards right as you reach the patch of hair on his lower stomach. 

“Absolutely.” He flashes you a toothy grin and you can’t help but respond with one of your own. 

“You will do as I say then. And if I ask something of you that you do not like then you will say stop, is that clear?” You want so badly to take his cock into your hands or mouth but you’re trying to be patient as you pull your hand back. This is for his sake, not yours. 

“Perfectly clear.” His hips twitch upwards a bit, almost taunting your resolve as you press him back down into the mattress. 

“Lovely,” You hum, stroking the glass toy between your fingers before bringing it to his mouth, tapping his lips. “Open.” He complies quickly, parting his lips as you slide the tip of the toy in, reveling in his moans. He looks so… right, like this. Eyes wide and eager as his tongue laps at the cool glass, tracing the ridges, legs spread, and cock twitching in excitement. You can’t help but wonder why you didn’t do this sooner. 

You push the fake cock just a little further past his lips before letting him take hold of it, turning to other matters. 

“Warm that up please, you wouldn’t want it to be cold when I fill you up.” As you murmur those words he groans against the glass. 

Unceremoniously you spit into your hand, giddy with excitement as you nudge his legs a bit further apart. You spread the plush flesh of his ass to notch your digits at his hole, gently pushing just the tip of your pointer finger in, feeling him tighten around you with a gasp. 

“Relax, my love.” You coo, waiting until his muscles release a bit before pushing onward. This isn’t your first time doing this sort of thing of course but it is the first time he’s going to be taking something other than your fingers or tongue, so you work him open slowly. Watching the stress unravel from his body as you work in a second finger, curling and scissoring them as his back arches, cock bobbing against his stomach as his fingers grip the sheets around him. 

When he’s able to take three of your fingers you pull the toy from his mouth with a soft pop, the toy slick with spit and properly warmed easily slips into the designated slot on your harness. He watches with a palpable anticipation as you get yourself situated. When you’re ready you’re kneeling between his legs, glass cock standing proudly against your pelvis. 

“Ready?” You ask as you gently lift his legs, bringing his knees to his chest as he nods, damn near whimpering. 

You push into him, slowly, as you gauge his reaction. Usually he’s all grunts and grumbles during sex but now he’s gasps and whines. His hands clutch the pillows surrounding his head as he tries to push himself further onto the toy but the position you’ve got him in keeps him in place. 

“You want more?” There’s a mocking lilt to your voice as he nods rapidly.

“Yes- please.” He purses his lips as he whimpers and you’re more than happy to oblige, watching the sight before you as his hole swallows your cock, his own dick leaking against his stomach, begging for a release. You adjust your hips a bit, watching his back attempt to arch as you do so. “Th-there.” His voice is strained as you hit that sweet spot inside of him. Ever so gently you pull out before rocking yourself back against it. 

“There? Is that what you want?” You continue to speak in a teasing tone but you truly want to know, this is all for his sake, you want so badly to make him feel good. His cheeks are flushed, warm skin slick with sweat as he continues to nod. You repeat the motion a few more times, caught off guard when he lets out a low whine and you watch as his cock pulses, untouched, as he paints his torso. His breath catches in his throat as he does so. “Oh my, look at the mess you’ve made, and so quickly.” You drag a finger over his heaving chest, scooping up some of his spend to taste, letting the bitter sweetness coat your tongue. “You were more pent up than I thought, my love. I think you still have some stress that needs releasing.” 

“I-I’m sorry.” He stammers, looking a bit embarrassed but you immediately shake your head, leaning forward to kiss his forehead while simultaneously sinking back into him.

“Don’t apologize for feeling good, sunshine. That’s what this is all for.” You bump your nose against his, hoping to reassure him. “Do you think you could give me one more, I just want to make sure I get all the stress out.” You emphasize your words with a small push of his legs tighter against his chest, earning a soft mewl from him. 

“I can do one more.” 

“Wonderful.” You kiss his cheek before picking up the same pace you were at just moments ago. Happily watching his cock jump back to life. You take the opportunity to drag your fingers through the cum cooling on his abdomen, drawing little shapes as he begins to reach that same peak rapidly all over again. You adore the sight of your glass cock sliding in and out of him. He takes you so well, his hole fluttering as he lets you fuck him. You wish you had a real cock just so you could feel him tighten around you but this will have to do. His neglected dick continues to rest against his happy trail, desperate to be touched. This time you help him out, wrapping your hand around his cock, with a few quick pumps he’s coating his stomach in cum all over again.

It’s positively euphoric to see the prince of Dorne like this. 

Just for you. Spread before you without a care in the world, stuffed full of your cock and happy as can be.

You give him a moment to catch his breath before pulling out, peppering his cheeks with kisses before slipping out of the harness and leaving to get him some water as well as something to wipe him up with. 

You gently wipe him down with a warm washcloth, cleaning him while continuing to kiss his face as he yawns. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles, taking your face in his hands, pulling you forward for another kiss. 

“Anytime, we take care of each other, I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” You climb under the blankets with him, tangling your limbs with his as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, clearly exhausted as he falls asleep against you. You feel your own exhaustion hit, smiling to yourself as you close your eyes. You couldn’t be happier that he let you try things your way.

[latinasforace]

Crimson Petals in the Night ( Giyuu x Blood Hashira F! Reader)

a/n: So sorry this took forever to post ….. College started for me & it’s draining me…. work as well even more. I’ll update soon!! thank you!! BTW this story will be SLOWBURN so that’s why it’s slow progress bc i’m building story and such. But DW i’ll make progress very fast bc who doesn’t just wanna make out w giyuu 😫

warnings: drunks flirting with you…

w/c: 15.8k

Chapter 1:

The night was thick with tension, the forest alive with the quiet rustling of leaves and the occasional distant cry of a night bird. The moon hung high, its cold light casting long, shifting shadows across the ground as the slayer moved through the dense underbrush. Her movements were swift, almost a blur, as her nichirin blade sliced through the air with the practiced ease of someone who had faced countless battles. Each step was calculated, each breath measured, as she confronted the demons that lurked in the darkness.

The first demon lunged at her, its grotesque form barely discernible in the dim light. With a sharp, fluid motion, the young slayer sidestepped its attack, her blade flashing as it cleaved through the demon’s neck.

The creature barely had time to react before its body disintegrated into ash, carried away by the night breeze. Before she could catch her breath, another demon sprang from the shadows, its claws reaching for her with deadly intent. Meeting it head-on, her blade a blur as she dispatched it with a single, decisive strike.

As the last of the demons fell, the slayer exhaled slowly, the adrenaline of the fight still coursing through her veins. She flicked her wrist, sending the ashing blood on her blade splattering onto the ground. Her kimono, once a pristine black adorned with delicate rose patterns, was now torn and slightly stained, the elegant fabric marred by the brutality of the battle. Sighing softly, her gaze lingering on the ruined garment. The young lady had been keen on taking good care and keep it in perfect condition. Even while tending to the discovered garden earlier that day, she made sure her monomi was clean and undisturbed. But now, all that effort seemed wasted.

As she sheathed her sword, a faint rustling caught her attention. Turning toward the sound, she saw a fellow Demon Slayer emerging from the trees, his face pale and etched with a mixture of relief and awe. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the fallen demons, clearly overwhelmed by what he had just witnessed. "Thank you," he managed to say, his voice shaky with emotion. "You saved my life… I was outnumbered, and I didn’t think I’d make it."

The young slayer offered him a smile, her expression softening as she regarded him. "I’m just glad I was able to get here in time," she replied, her tone calm and reassuring. "I happened to be passing by when I received a call from a crow to assist. I’m currently not in duty—hence why I’m out of uniform. Still, I’m very glad you asked for assistance.”

The young Slayer’s gaze flickered to her kimono, his eyes widening slightly as he noticed that she wasn’t wearing the standard uniform. "I didn’t realize you were a Slayer at first," he admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring his tone. "You weren’t in uniform, and I…"

"It’s understandable," Y/N said, waving off his concerns with a small gesture. "Appearances can be deceiving. But the important thing is that we’re safe. Are you alright? No injuries correct?”

He shook his head quickly, his expression one of gratitude. "I’m fine, thanks to you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

"I’m glad to hear that," she replied. "It’s what we do, after all—protect each other."

As the young Slayer nodded in agreement, motioned his goodbyes, and turned to leave, the slayer bent down to retrieve her gardening tools. She took a glance at her attire once more, a pang of regret tugging at her heart. The Wisteria Estate where she was staying for the time being, one of the many meant for slayers to rest in and settle temporarily, was miles away, that is the the one that was she more accustomed in staying as as well as had her minor belongings in. She could only imagine the strange looks she might receive as she traveled back with her garment in such disrepair. At least her face and rest of her features had remained untouched, not a scratch marring her appearance despite the ferocity of the battle.

Suddenly, flutter of wings drew her gaze upward. A black crow swooped down, its beady eyes glinting in the moonlight. It circled above her head before landing on a nearby branch. “Y/N!” it cawed. “You are to be summoned by Master. Report to the Master’s mansion immediately.”

Her head slightly tilted in question. The Master’s mansion? The young lady had never been called to see the Master, let alone even gotten a glimpse of the well respected leader.

The Master was a figure shrouded in mystery, known only through whispers and the crows’ messages. Only hearing stories of his wisdom and kindness, but also of his enigmatic presence.

Sheathing her blade, she set off with the crow as her guide, her mind racing with possibilities. The journey was quite long, but her curiosity propelled she forward.

~

As dawn approached, she finally reached the gates of the Master’s estate. The sprawling grounds were bathed in the soft, golden light of morning, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming wisteria.

A pair of attendants greeted her at the entrance, leading the young slayer through the winding paths and serene gardens. She marveled at the beauty around her, the tranquility a stark contrast to the bloodshed and chaos she had left behind. Eventually, they arrived at a grand hall, its doors intricately carved with symbols of protection and strength.

The doors creaked open, and the girl stepped inside, her breath catching in her throat. The hall was vast, with high ceilings and walls adorned with ancient scrolls and paintings. At the far end, seated on a comfortable futon platform, was the Master himself. His presence was commanding yet gentle, his eyes closed as he listened to the soft murmur of the attendants.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft yet resonant, carrying across the hall like a melody. “Welcome.”

Y/N approached, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Knelling before the Master, bowing her head in respect. “Master,” she said, her voice steady despite the nervous fluttering in her chest.

The master sat quietly for a moment, his serene presence filling the room. Y/N stood before him, her heart pounding in anticipation and curiosity. The walls of the room seemed to close in, making the space feel more intimate, almost sacred.

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before," the master began, his voice calm and gentle. "But I have certainly noticed your efforts as a slayer."

The slayer bowed her head in respect. "It is an honor to meet you, Master."

The master smiled, a glint of pride in his eyes. "You have shown remarkable strength and dedication in your missions. Your unique abilities have not gone unnoticed."

The slayer felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words, but a question hung in the air, unspoken but palpable.

"Do you know why you are here today?" the master asked, his tone turning more inquisitive.

Y/N blinked, her mind racing to find an answer. She had been summoned without explanation, and her thoughts had been a whirlwind of possibilities since then. Finally, she shook her head, her confusion evident. "No, Master, I do not."

The master nodded, seemingly expecting her response. "Today, I am honored to officially recognize you as a Hashira. You have slayed more demons than the expected amount as ranked Hashira. Your unique abilities and unwavering spirit have earned you this title. You have done well.”

The young woman’s heart swelled with pride and joy at his words, but also with confusion. “Master,” she began hesitantly, “I am honored, but I am also surprised. I never expected to be promoted to Hashira so soon. Why me?”

The Master’s smile deepened, his eyes reflecting a calm assurance. “Your shock is understandable, Y/N, but your title is well-deserved. You have consistently shown extraordinary strength and skill, exceeding the kills of many demons. You have proven yourself fit and strong enough to face even the Twelve Kizuki in the future.”

The slayer’s eyes widened at his words, but the Master continued. “Moreover, I have noticed something remarkable about your missions. Whenever you lead a group of slayers, there are always little to no major injuries among them. They return safe, largely thanks to your presence and leadership.”

A wave of realization washed over the demon slayer as the Master’s words sank in. She had always strived to protect her fellow comrades, but hearing it acknowledged so clearly was both humbling and empowering.

The Master gestured to an attendant, who stepped forward with folded fabrics. “This is your new uniform, a symbol of your rank and your duty,” he said. “You are now the Blood Hashira, the first of your kind.”

The Blood Breathing user accepted the bundle, its fabric rich and adorned with the writing stating ‘Blood Hashira.’ She could feel the weight of her new responsibilities settling on her shoulders, but also the thrill of recognition and purpose.

“The path of a Hashira is fraught with danger and challenges,” the Master continued. “But it is also a path of great honor and reward. You will have access to the best resources, training, and support we can offer. Your strength will inspire and protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

The girl, now a Hashira, looked up at the Master, her eyes shining with determination. “I understand, Master. I will do everything in my power to uphold this honor and fulfill my duties.”

The Master nodded, his eyes full of pride and warmth. “I have no doubt that you will. Remember, Y/N, your strength lies not just in your abilities, but in your heart. You are a beacon of hope for us all.”

Feeling the swell of emotion at his words, her resolve hardened. She was ready to embrace her new role, to fight with everything she had to protect humanity from the demons that threatened it.

As the Master finished speaking, he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Y/N, are you familiar with the rest of the Hashira?” he questioned.

The young lady paused for a moment, striving to recall if she had ever personal meet any of them. She had heard multiple rumors that certain element breathing Hashira’s were indeed intimating, some would even belittling and harassing the other lower ranking slayers due to their superiority. Even so, she had never bothered to memorize their names or be intrigued in any rumors or saying going around regarding them. Focusing more on training and completing missions, abolishing demons. “No Master. I have yet to ever come face to face with any of them.”

He nodded, the sunlight filtering through the delicate cherry blossom trees casting a dappled pattern across his face. "Take some time to wander the grounds and enjoy the peace. The other Hashira will seek you out. I am sure they are eager to meet you.”

With a final bow, you bowed respectfully and left the wing, beginning to explore the mansion’s grounds. The beauty of the place was almost overwhelming, each step revealing another stunning view—a lush bamboo grove swaying gently in the breeze, a bridge arching gracefully over a sparkling pond, and a small pavilion where the Master often sat in quiet contemplation. The tranquil surroundings put you at ease, calming the remnants of the tension you carried from your previous battles.

Here, in this sanctuary, it was easy to forget the horrors that awaited outside the mansion’s walls.

As she wandered and admired the beauty of the Master’s Estate, she heard footsteps approaching, and you turned to see a group of individuals making their way towards her.

The first to come the closest to her was a tall man with a fiery mane of red and yellow hair, his presence as warm and vibrant as the sun. The man’s eyes were filled with a boundless energy, his smile as bright as his flame-colored haori. "Ah, you must be the Blood Hashira!" he greeted you with a booming voice that matched his powerful aura. "I’m Kyojuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira. It’s a pleasure to meet you!"

His enthusiasm was infectious, and the girl couldn’t help but return his smile. There was something comforting about his presence, as if his very being radiated a sense of protection and warmth.

Before the Blood Breathing user could respond, another figure from the group greeted you —a striking man adorned with an array of flashy accessories, from his headband to the multiple earrings that caught the light. His long, silver hair shimmered like the surface of a moonlit river. "Tengen Uzui here, Sound Hashira. The Blood Hashira, huh? Sounds flashy! I like it!" His grin was wide and confident, a man who clearly took pride in his appearance and power. Tengen’s boldness was both intriguing and slightly overwhelming, his loud personality a stark contrast to the peaceful surroundings. Yet, there was a charm to his audacity, a confidence that seemed unshakable.

Another slightly shorter man than the first two came forward, his expression hard and unyielding. His sharp eyes, framed by a wild mess of white hair, assessed you with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "Sanemi Shinazugawa," he introduced himself brusquely. "Let’s hope you’re as strong as they say." His voice was edged with challenge, and the slayer could feel the weight of his expectations pressing down on her. She met his gaze steadily, understanding that respect from him would have to be earned.

Next one to free you was a small, graceful woman with a deceptively gentle smile. She moved with the lightness of a butterfly, her presence delicate yet undeniably sharp. "Shinobu Kocho, Insect Hashira. Welcome to our ranks. I look forward to working with you." Her voice was sweet, almost musical, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes that spoke of lethal skill hidden behind her soft exterior. Her beauty was astonishing as well, the new promoted Hashira admiring her looks.

Finally, a towering figure approached, his massive frame almost dwarfing the peaceful surroundings, greeted you with a calm, deep voice that resonated through the garden. "Gyomei Himejima," he said, his hands clasped in a prayer-like gesture. "May your path be blessed with strength and courage." His presence was like that of a mountain—unmovable, steady, and profoundly comforting.

As each Hashira introduced themselves, you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity when the last one stepped forward and remained silent. His presence was quieter than the others, but no less commanding.

Then, she realized.

It was him—the swordsman from the garden that night, the one who had sternly told her to leave. His intense blue eyes locked onto hers, and she could see the recognition flicker across his face. He gave her a brief gaze, his expression unreadable.

He didn’t introduce himself, just like that night. Instead, he turned and walked away, his patterned haori fluttering lightly in the breeze, leaving you with a sense of unresolved curiosity. Why hadn’t he spoken? Why did he remain so distant?

Before the girl could ponder further, Master Ubuyashiki’s voice interrupted her thoughts. "Now that you’ve met your fellow Hashira, I will dismiss you all. I have no doubt that you will grow to rely on each other in the battles to come."

The Hashira began to disperse, leaving her standing alone in the tranquil garden, her thoughts lingering on the mysterious swordsman from last night and that piercing gaze. There was something about him that intrigued her, something that made herwant to understand him better. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the journey that lies ahead. She was the Blood Hashira now, and she would prove yourself worthy of the title.

The sunlight slightly gleamed upon the Earth, creating a small warmth wave across the surface as Y/N stepped through the threshold of the Master's mansion, the echoes of her soft footsteps lost in the vastness of the surrounding garden. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting silver light upon her path. The tranquility was almost unsettling after the intensity of her recent induction as a Hashira. As she neared the stone steps leading to the courtyard, a gentle voice called out from behind.

"Lady Y/N," the voice was soft, almost hesitant. She turned to see one of the Master's attendants, a young woman with kind eyes and a graceful demeanor. Beside her stood a girl, delicate and serene, a complete replica of the older woman she was beside, excluding the shorter hair.

"Is something the matter?" The departing lady asked, her voice equally gentle, though laced with a hint of confusion.

The attendant stepped forward, her hands clasped respectfully in front of her. "Forgive me for intruding, Lady Y/N, but before you depart, we must collect your blade."

Y/N’s brow furrowed, her hand instinctively brushing the hilt of her sword, a weapon that had become almost an extension of her own being. "My blade?" she repeated, perplexed.

The attendant smiled, understanding her confusion. "Yes, every Hashira is gifted a new sword upon their ascension. It is tradition. The Master wishes to ensure that your weapon is of the highest quality, forged anew with the finest ore. The words 'Destroyer of Demons' will be engraved upon it by the most skilled swordsmiths in the land."

The Blood Hashira hesitated for a moment, her grip on her sword tightening before she slowly began to unfasten it from her side. She handed the blade over, the attendant accepting it with a deep bow of respect. "It will be returned to you soon, stronger and more refined," the attendant assured her.

"Thank you," she said softly, though her mind still lingered on the idea of parting with a sword that had seen so many battles at her side, her greatest weapon of protection. But as she released it, a sense of new beginnings washed over her, a subtle thrill of anticipation for her new upgrade.

The shorter attendee, silent until now, stepped forward, her delicate hands holding a small, ornate box. She opened it to reveal a finely crafted red bow, which she offered to Y/N. "For your crow," the girl said, her voice almost musical. "The messenger has already been sent to fetch your belongings. You will be escorted to your new estate with guidance from your crow. It’s your right as a Hashira to have a place of your own, filled with clothing and furnishings befitting your station."

The girl blinked, absorbing the unexpected news. "An estate?" she repeated, her tone marked with surprise.

The attendant nodded, smiling warmly. "Indeed. It is situated in a secluded area, surrounded by nature, where you can find peace and solace when you are not on duty. Your crow will guide you there."

As if on cue, a sharp caw echoed through the night, and the young slayer turned to see a dark silhouette perched on a nearby branch. The crow's feathers were sleek, gleaming like obsidian under the moonlight.

A wave of familiarity washed over Y/N at the sight of her crow. It had been some time since she had seen it, having been off duty and receiving her orders from other crows in the interim. The bird had been her companion through countless missions, its sarcastic wit a constant in the chaos of her life. Now, seeing it again after what felt like an eternity, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Finally done with all the formalities?" the crow croaked, its voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound light in the warm noon air. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Did you miss me?”

The crow fluffed its feathers, clearly put out by the suggestion. "Missed you? Hardly. I’ve simply been bored out of my mind with these other assignments. But at least now things might get interesting again."

The young girl shook her head, still smiling as she took the box from the Master's daughter and carefully tied the bow around the bird’s neck. "You haven’t changed a bit," she remarked, her tone affectionate despite the crow’s sharp words.

The crow puffed out its chest, clearly pleased with its new accessory. "Someone has to keep you on schedule. Now, are you ready to see this grand estate of yours, or would you prefer to wander the forest all night?"

"Lead the way," she replied, her voice laced with amusement as she followed the crow, the faintest breeze carrying the scent of jasmine and pine.

The crow flew ahead, its dark wings slicing through the bright air of the early day beginning , leading the young slayer along a narrow path illuminated by the soft glow of sunlight peaking over. The landscape around them was serene, untouched by the chaos she had so often encountered on her travels. Tall trees, their leaves shimmering like gold in the sun gaze, lined the path, creating a lightning gloom that blended gently in the breeze of the forest. The scent of pine and earth was rich, grounding her as she walked, her steps quiet and deliberate.

Y/N’s thoughts drifted back to the words of the attendant. “It will be your responsibility to watch over and guard the surrounding area and villages nearby from your estate, from any demons, every night or whenever you’re around.” The weight of those words settled on her shoulders, a familiar burden, yet now there was a permanence to it. This place—this estate—would be her new base, her stronghold against the darkness that threatened the innocent lives she had sworn to protect.

The path began to widen, and the young lady noticed subtle changes in the surroundings. The trees, though still wild and ancient, seemed more deliberately spaced, their trunks standing as silent sentinels guiding her way. She could make out the faintest glimmers of lantern in the distance, warm light spilling across the ground, beckoning her forward.

When she finally reached the estate, she paused, her breath catching in her throat. The structure before her was breathtaking—a sprawling mansion that seemed to emerge from the very heart of the forest, its wooden beams and tiled roof blending harmoniously with the nature surrounding it. The architecture was elegant, every line and curve a testament to the craftsmanship that had gone into its construction.

A large yard spread out before the mansion, meticulously maintained with stone pathways winding through lush gardens. Cherry blossom trees, their petals pale against the night sky, dotted the landscape, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. A koi pond reflected the moonlight, the water calm and clear, the fish gliding silently beneath the surface. It was a place of peace, a haven from the world beyond its gates.

But as Y/N took it all in, a sense of unease crept over her. This estate was beautiful—too beautiful, too grand for someone like her. It was almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the life she had known. She had grown up in an orphanage, sharing a single room with many others, where space and belongings were scarce. The only constants in her life had been the camaraderie of the other children and the bare necessities.

Now, she was faced with an estate that could house a dozen families, each room likely larger than the entire orphanage she had once called home.

"This is… a lot," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she stepped into the yard. The crow, perched on a low branch nearby, tilted its head, regarding her with a knowing look.

"Overwhelmed, are we?" it cawed, its tone a mix of amusement and something almost sympathetic. "Not exactly what you’re used to, is it?"

Y/N shook her head, still trying to process the sheer scale of it all. "No, it’s not. It’s… too much, really."

The crow fluttered down from the branch and landed on a stone lantern, its sharp eyes watching her closely. "You’ve earned this, you know. This isn’t just a reward; it’s a necessity. A Hashira needs a place to retreat, to recover. You can’t protect anyone if you don’t take care of yourself first."

The young woman sighed softly, the truth in the crow’s words settling in her heart. It was true—she needed a place to rest, to gather her strength between battles. But still, the grandeur of it all made her feel out of place, as if she were an intruder in a life that wasn’t her own.

Slowly, she walked up the steps to the mansion’s entrance, the wooden doors large and imposing, yet beautifully carved with intricate designs. She pushed them open, and the inside revealed itself as just as elegant as the exterior. The main hall was vast, with high ceilings and polished wooden floors that gleamed in the lantern light. Tatami mats lined the floor, and sliding doors led to other rooms, each one a mystery waiting to be explored.

Despite the overwhelming luxury, there was a quietness to the space, a sense of solitude that spoke to her. Perhaps, with time, she could come to call this place home. Perhaps, in these halls and gardens, she could find a sense of belonging she had never known before.

As she stood there, taking in the mansion that was now hers, the crow flapped its wings and settled on her shoulder, its familiar weight a comfort. "Don’t let it overwhelm you," it murmured, its voice softer now, almost gentle. "This is just the beginning. You’ll grow into it. After all, a Hashira’s life is always one of adaptation."

The young lady nodded, a quiet determination forming within her. This estate, this responsibility—she would embrace it, not because it was expected of her, but because it was her path.

~

Time had a strange way of slipping through the young lady’s fingers in the weeks following her induction as a Hashira. The days blended together, marked by rigorous training, daily missions, and constant patrols. Yet, despite the relentless pace, she found herself slowly adapting to this new life—one of solitude and silent determination, a life that required her to be both warrior and guardian.

A week after her arrival at the estate, she stood in the main hall, waiting as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting the room in shades of amber and gold. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts, processing the challenges she had just faced in her first missions as a Hashira. The demons she encountered were far more formidable than those she had faced as a regular slayer, their cunning and strength a stark reminder of the power she now had to wield. But despite the major increase in difficulty, every mission had ended in success, her blade cutting through the darkness with precision and determination.

As she reflected on these battles, the large wooden doors of the mansion creaked open, and a figure stepped inside, his presence almost overshadowed by the massive bundle he carried on his back. He was a broad-shouldered man with graying hair tied back in a messy knot, his hands calloused from years of working with metal. His clothes were simple, but the weight of experience hung about him like an invisible cloak.

“Lady L/N,” he greeted with a deep bow, setting down the bundle with care. “It is an honor to meet you again. My name is Kurogane, and I’ve come to deliver your new blade.”

The young lady approached, her gaze flickering to the wrapped sword he laid before her. She had grown accustomed to the weight of her previous blade, but there was an undeniable excitement in receiving something newly forged, something that would become an extension of herself in battle.

“Mr. Kurogane,” She acknowledged with a respectful nod, her eyes tracing the outlines of the package, eager to see the weapon that had been crafted for her.

Kurogane unwrapped the sword with reverence, revealing a gleaming blade of deep crimson, the metal polished to a mirror-like sheen. The hilt was intricately designed, wrapped in black and deep red fabric that provided a firm grip. Along the flat of the blade, the words “Destroyer of Demons” were engraved with precise care, the characters catching the light in a way that made them almost glow.

“This sword is forged from the finest ore, selected specifically for you,” Kurogane explained as Y/N gently took the sword into her hands, feeling the perfect balance, the way it felt like it was meant for her and her alone. “It’s lighter, sharper, and more durable than your previous blade. The engraving was done by a master craftsman—it will serve you well in your duty as a Hashira.”

The slayer turned the sword in her hands, testing its weight, feeling the way it cut through the air with effortless grace. It was indeed a work of art, but more than that, it was a tool, a weapon she would rely on to protect those who could not protect themselves.

“It’s perfect,” she said softly, her voice tinged with awe. “Thank you, Mr. Kurogane.”

Kurogane gave a small, satisfied smile. “I’m glad it pleases you, Lady L/N. Remember, this blade will serve you well, but it will also require care. Should you ever need adjustments, or if the sword is damaged in battle, do not hesitate to contact me. I’ll come at once to ensure it remains in perfect condition.”

Y/N nodded, appreciating the craftsman’s dedication. “I will. Your work is remarkable—I’m honored to wield this blade.”

With another deep bow, Kurogane took his leave, the doors of the mansion closing behind him with a soft thud, leaving Y/N alone with her new sword. She stood there for a moment longer, simply holding the blade, letting its weight settle into her hands, before she sheathed it and attached it to her side. The sword was hers now, and it felt as if a piece of her had finally fallen into place.

As the days passed, Y/N fell into a routine, though ‘routine’ was a generous word for the life of a Hashira. Every morning began with rigorous training in the mansion’s extensive grounds. The estate was vast, almost too vast for her alone, but she made use of every part of it. The training grounds, with their open space and various terrains, allowed her to push herself further than she ever had before, perfecting her techniques, strengthening her body, and honing her mind.

Missions came frequently, each one more challenging than the last. She faced demons of all kinds—cunning, powerful, and relentless. Yet, despite the growing difficulty, she met each challenge head-on, her new blade slicing through the darkness with deadly precision. The demons she fought were more vicious, their abilities more refined, but they still fell before her, one by one. However, she had yet to encounter an Upper Rank demon, and that fact both relieved and unsettled her. The anticipation of such a battle lingered in her mind, but for now, she was content to focus on the tasks at hand.

In the evenings, after the sun had set and the world had quieted, Y/N would return to the estate, the exhaustion of the day’s battles weighing on her limbs. She had grown accustomed to the mansion, its grandeur no longer as overwhelming as it once had been. The hot springs and baths became a sanctuary, the warmth soothing her tired muscles and allowing her a rare moment of peace. The estate’s resources were plentiful—almost too plentiful—but she found comfort in the quiet luxury, in the moments when she could simply be, without the weight of her duties pressing down on her.

The mansion’s gardens, too, became a place of solace. She often found herself wandering the stone pathways at night, the cherry blossoms glowing softly under the moonlight, their petals a gentle reminder of the beauty that still existed in the world despite the darkness she fought against. The koi pond, with its calm waters, offered her a moment of reflection, the fish moving silently beneath the surface, their movements soothing in their simplicity.

However, the abandoned sanctuary from before lingered in her mind. She hadn’t had time recently to go assist the forgotten garden. Mentally noting to pass by next time she’s out on a mission, no matter how exhausted she may be.

Now, it was the training grounds where she spent most of her time, pushing herself to the limit, testing the boundaries of her new blade, and preparing for whatever battles lay ahead. The vastness of the estate no longer felt overwhelming—it felt like a challenge, a place where she could grow stronger, where she could become the skilled slayer she needed to be.

The crow, always by her side, watched over her with a sarcastic but unwavering loyalty, its sharp comments a constant companion in her solitude. “You’re getting used to this place, aren’t you?” it would caw, perched on a branch as she trained.

Y/N would merely smile, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Perhaps. It’s starting to feel… like mine.”

The crow would fluff its feathers, its tone as dry as ever. “Good. Because you’re stuck with it. Might as well make the best of it.”

And so she did. Each day brought new challenges, new demons to slay, new victories to be won. The estate, once overwhelming in its grandeur, became a part of her, a place where she could find strength and peace in equal measure.

In just a month, she had begun to truly understand what it meant to be a Hashira. It wasn’t just about the battles or the demons—it was about the responsibility, the constant vigilance, the never-ending drive to protect and serve. It was a life of solitude, but it was also one of purpose. And in the quiet moments, when she stood in the gardens or soaked in the hot springs, she found that she was not just surviving—she was thriving, embracing the life that had been laid before her.

Weeks had passed since Y/N had fully settled into her new role as a Hashira, her life marked by a steady rhythm of missions, training, and solitude. Her daily routine became almost second nature—a ritual of honing her skills, perfecting her techniques, and ensuring that she was always prepared for whatever new threat might arise.

Yet, as she sharpened her blade one quiet morning, her routine was abruptly interrupted by the sudden arrival of her messenger crow.

It swooped into the courtyard, cawing loudly as it landed on the stone ledge near her, the red bow around its neck fluttering in the breeze. “Lady Y/N, you’re summoned to the Master’s mansion. Urgently.”

She paused, her hand stilling on the blade. It was unusual to be called to the Master’s mansion so suddenly, and the crow’s tone carried an unspoken urgency. She sheathed her sword, her mind already shifting from the quiet of her estate to the unknown reason behind the summons.

“Very well,” she replied, her voice calm despite the stirring of curiosity in her chest. She wiped her hands clean and adjusted her uniform before following the crow, who led the way with a sharp caw, its wings beating steadily against the early morning air.

As they made their way through the forested path, she allowed herself a moment to take in the surroundings—the familiar trees, the scent of damp earth, and the distant sounds of life in the village below. She recalled the attendant’s words from her first day, reminding her of her responsibility to watch over these lands. The weight of that duty settled over her like a cloak, but it was one she had grown accustomed to wearing.

Before long, the Master’s mansion came into view, its presence as imposing as ever. The ancient structure stood tall and serene, a beacon of guidance and leadership for the Demon Slayer Corps. Y/N approached the entrance, where several attendants awaited her arrival, their faces a mixture of solemnity and respect.

“Lady L/N, welcome,” one of them greeted, bowing deeply. “The Master is expecting you. Please follow us.”

Without a word, the young lady nodded and followed the attendants through the winding halls of the mansion. The atmosphere inside was calm, almost ethereal, with the soft rustle of robes and the distant murmur of wind chimes filling the air. The serenity of the place was a stark contrast to the constant chaos and danger that defined her life outside these walls.

Finally, they arrived at a set of sliding doors, which one of the attendants gently pushed open. Inside, the room was bathed in soft light, the shoji screens filtering the sunlight into gentle hues of gold. The Master sat in his usual spot, his presence as calming as ever, radiating an aura of quiet authority. His attendants flanked him, their expressions unreadable but attentive.

But it wasn’t the Master who immediately caught Y/N’s attention—it was the figure seated before him, on the opposite side of the room. The same mysterious man who had not introduced himself to her all those weeks ago in the garden, his presence now as imposing as it had been then. He sat with a composed demeanor, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes fixed ahead.

As she entered, the Master’s gentle voice filled the room, drawing her attention back to him. “L/N, thank you for coming on such short notice,” he began, his tone warm and inviting. “There is someone I would like you to meet formally.”

The young slayer approached and bowed deeply, her eyes flicking momentarily to the man seated before her before returning to the Master. “Of course, Master. It is an honor to be here.”

The Master’s kind smile deepened. “This is Giyuu Tomioka, the Water Hashira. He was present during your first visit, though I’m not sure you both did had the opportunity to be introduced properly. Tomioka, this is L/N, our newly appointed Blood Hashira. I have summoned you both today because there is a matter of great importance that requires your combined strength and skills.”

Y/N’s gaze shifted to Giyuu once more, this time with a newfound respect. She had heard of the Water Hashira the past month, his reputation as a formidable and stoic warrior preceding him. The memory of their brief encounter in the garden returned to her, the way he had been so stern, so seemingly unapproachable. Now, as they stood in the same room, she realized that this mission would be her first opportunity to truly work alongside another Hashira.

Giyuu inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his expression as unreadable as ever. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N,” he said, his voice low and even, betraying none of the thoughts that might be running through his mind.

She returned the gesture, her own voice steady. “Likewise, Mr. Tomioka .”

The Master’s voice gently interrupted their exchange. “I am confident that you two will work well together,” he said, his tone imbued with the wisdom of someone who had seen many partnerships forged and tested. “The mission I’m about to assign to you is of great importance.”

The Master’s voice, gentle yet filled with the gravity of the situation, broke the silence. “There is a demon terrorizing a village far to the west,” he began, his tone steady but serious.

“This is not just any village—it is a heavily populated area, teeming with innocent lives. However, it’s also under the watchful eyes of government police who do not acknowledge the existence of the Demon Slayer Corps. Should they see you in your uniforms, it could cause significant trouble, both for you and for our mission. It would also alert the demon to your presence, giving it the opportunity to flee or prepare an ambush.”

She felt the weight of the Master’s words sink in. A mission in a populated area, under the scrutiny of the authorities, would require not just strength but careful strategy and discretion.

“The demon itself is exceptionally dangerous,” the Master continued, his expression growing darker. “It has been causing widespread destruction, reducing entire buildings to rubble with an explosive demon art. This, coupled with its relentless killing of innocent people, has spread fear throughout the region. The demon has proven elusive, using the chaos it creates to cover its tracks. Your task will be to locate and eliminate this demon without drawing attention to yourselves or the Corps. It is imperative that you succeed, as well as keep the injured and casualties as little as possible.”

As he spoke, the girl could feel the enormity of the mission pressing down on her shoulders. This was no ordinary demon, and the risks involved were far greater than any she had faced before. Yet, alongside the weight of responsibility, there was also a fierce determination growing within her—an unwavering resolve to protect those who could not protect themselves.

“We will not fail, Master,” Y/N vowed, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions within her. “We will bring this demon to justice and ensure the safety of the city and its citizens.”

Giyuu nodded, his expression solemn but resolute. “We’ll handle it.”

The Master’s expression softened, a small smile playing on his lips. “I have no doubt that you will succeed. May you both return safely, and may your blades bring an end to the darkness that threatens our world.”

With that, the meeting was concluded, the Master’s attendants bowing as Y/N and Giyuu exited the room together. The weight of the mission hung between them, a shared responsibility that would bind them in the days to come.

As they walked through the halls of the mansion, Y/N felt the presence of Giyuu beside her, a silent but undeniable force. She had heard here and there of his strength but more so of his cold demeanor in battle, but there was more to him than the rumors suggested—an undercurrent of resolve and perhaps, a shared understanding of the burden they both carried as slayers.

When they reached the mansion’s entrance, Y/N paused, turning to Giyuu. “This is my first major mission as a Hashira,” she admitted, her voice steady but tinged with the honesty that she rarely allowed herself. “I won’t let you down.”

Giyuu regarded her for a moment, his expression inscrutable, before he nodded. “We’ll do this together,” he replied, his tone firm, if not entirely cold. “No one fights alone.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, her resolve hardening. Together, they would face whatever awaited them in the faraway village. Together, they would bring an end to the terror that had gripped it. And together, they would prove that the Hashira, despite their solitary nature, were united in their mission to protect the world from the darkness that threatened to consume it.

As they departed the Master’s mansion, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that this mission was the beginning of something—something that would test not just her strength, but her character, her resolve, and her ability to work alongside another Hashira.

~

The journey to the distant village was long, the landscape shifting from dense forests to rolling hills as they moved hurriedly through the night. Y/N beside Giyuu, the silence between them stretching on, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. Despite the quiet, her mind buzzed with thoughts, the weight of the mission ahead pressing on her, yet she couldn’t shake the curiosity she felt toward her companion.

The Water Hashira was an enigma—stoic, silent, and seemingly detached from everything around him. Y/N had some rumors recently about his strength but mostly on his very cold demur from other low ranking slayers, but seeing him up close only deepened the mystery. After hours of silence, she decided to break the ice, hoping to make the journey less…awkward.

“So, Mr. Tomioka,” she began, her voice light as she tried to coax him into conversation. “Have you been on many missions like this? Where we have to be extra cautious around human authorities?”

Giyuu’s gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression unchanging. “A few,” he replied curtly, offering nothing more.

The young girl stifled a sigh but kept her tone friendly. “I see. This is my first mission where we have to stay so hidden. It’s a little unnerving, knowing we have to avoid being seen just as much as we need to avoid the demon.”

“Mmm,” Giyuu responded, his tone indifferent as he maintained his pace, not bothering to add anything further.

Y/N felt a twinge of frustration at his lack of engagement, but she wasn’t ready to give up. After a moment of silence, she shot him a sidelong glance, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Mr. Tomioka You know, I’ve been thinking… Everyone else introduced themselves to me when we met, but you didn’t. It’s almost like you’re trying to be so mysterious.”

Giyuu’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t look at her. “I didn’t think it was necessary,” he said, his voice still flat, though there was a hint of defensiveness.

“Oh, really?” She teased, her tone light and playful. “Well, I must say, I was a little offended. Here I was, meeting the rest of the Hashira for the first time, and one of them doesn’t even bother with introductions. I started to think you didn’t like me.”

Giyuu’s steps faltered ever so slightly, the only indication that her words had reached him. He remained silent for a moment, clearly not used to such teasing. “It wasn’t personal,” he finally muttered, his voice quiet.

Y/N chuckled softly, her smile widening at his response. “I know, I’m just teasing you Mr. Tomioka, but I suppose I can forgive you. After all, you did greatly warn me about the dangers of being out so late that one night in the forest” She continued on teasing, laughing slightly.

Giyuu didn’t respond to her jest, his expression unreadable, but the young lady noticed the slight relaxation in his posture. It wasn’t much, but it was something—a small crack in the stoic facade he wore so effortlessly.

As they continued, the night deepened, and they found a secluded spot in the forest to rest. Though they both preferred to travel under the cover of darkness, seeking out any demons along the way, they needed to conserve their energy for the battles that awaited them. The city was still far, and rushing in exhausted would do them no favors.

They set up a small camp, forgoing a fire to remain undetected. Y/N sat on a fallen log, her eyes scanning the dense trees around them. She knew demons were near—they always were in places like this—but tonight had been strangely quiet.

Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes a few feet away caught her attention. She remarked and her hand instinctively flew for the hilt of her sword, but before she could act, Giyuu was already on his feet. In one fluid motion, he dashed forward, his blade cutting through the air with precision.

The demon barely had time to emerge before Giyuu’s sword sliced through it, reducing it to a heap of ashes in mere seconds. The movement was so swift, so seamless, that Y/N found herself staring in awe. He hadn’t even used his rumored Water Breathing technique—just pure skill and raw power.

“Impressive,” The young slayer commented, her voice laced with genuine admiration as Giyuu sheathed his sword.

Giyuu glanced at her, his expression still unreadable. “There is need to draw attention with breathing techniques right now,” he said simply, noting the feat as nothing out of the ordinary.

Y/N nodded, still marveling at how effortlessly he had dispatched the demon. She had yet to use her own Blood Breathing since their journey began, relying instead on her swordsmanship and instinct. It wasn’t out of necessity, but rather a shared understanding between them that using their breathing techniques would signal their presence to any lurking demons—or worse, alert any other nearby authorities they were trying to avoid.

As the night wore on, they encountered a few more demons, each more persistent than the last. Y/N held her own, dispatching them with calculated strikes and maintaining her composure even when they attacked in pairs. Giyuu, meanwhile, remained a force to be reckoned with, his every move precise and controlled.

It wasn’t long before they continued their journey, the distant lights of the nearby villages still far ahead. The road was long and filled with dangers, but Y/N found herself growing more accustomed to the silence between them. Even without conversation, there was a mutual respect forming—an understanding that, despite their differences, they were both committed to the same cause.

~

As the first light of dawn began to crest over the horizon, both of the slayers approached the outskirts of the bustling city. The city loomed ahead, its towering gates and bustling streets framed by distant mountains. The journey had been long, and though they had faced their share of dangers along the way, they had moved with a quiet determination, always mindful of their mission. But now, as they drew closer to their destination, a new challenge presented itself.

The city was under high alert, its gates heavily guarded by stern-faced officials, their eyes sharp and vigilant. The demon's recent rampage had left the populace on edge, and the authorities were not taking any chances. With the demon's explosive attacks wreaking havoc on the city, they would be suspicious of any strangers, especially those who might appear out of place.

The young girl glanced at her companion, her thoughts swirling with the complexities of their situation. Entering the city as Demon Slayers, adorned in their uniforms, would undoubtedly draw unwanted attention. The police force, though aware of demons, did not officially acknowledge the Demon Slayer Corps, and their presence could easily complicate matters. They needed a plan—one that would allow them to blend in and avoid unnecessary scrutiny.

"We can't just walk in wearing these," Y/N murmured, gesturing to their uniforms. "It'll raise too many questions. The city's on edge, and the last thing we need is the authorities on our backs before we even reach the demon."

Tomioka nodded, his expression serious as he scanned the surrounding area. His eyes fell on a small, bustling market set up just outside the city's gates, where vendors sold everything from fresh produce to finely woven garments. The solution presented itself almost immediately. "We should buy new attire—something that will help us blend in. And a carriage, too. We’ll need a cover story."

"A carriage?" Y/N echoed, following his gaze to the market. "You're thinking we pose as traveling vendors?"

"It’s the simplest way to avoid suspicion," Tomioka replied. "With the city on high alert, it makes sense that traders would still be allowed in. If we enter as vendors, no one will think twice about our presence."

The young lady considered this for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "That could work. Let's go find what we need."

Together, they made their way to the market. The early morning sun cast a warm glow over the stalls, the air filled with the mingling scents of fresh vegetables, roasted chestnuts, and newly spun cloth. It was a far cry from the quiet forests they had traveled through, but the young lady found comfort in the lively atmosphere. It was almost easy to forget the danger that awaited them just beyond the city walls.

They approached a vendor selling traditional clothing, and Y/N began sorting through the neatly folded kimonos, looking for something simple yet practical. She chose a dark navy kimono with a subtle pattern of swirling waves, its design understated but elegant. Giyuu selected a similar garment, though his was a muted gray with a faint hint of indigo. The fabrics were light and unassuming—perfect for their needs.

As they paid for the clothes, the slayer noticed a nearby stall offering freshly baked rice cakes and steamed buns. The vendor, an elderly woman with a kind smile, waved them over. "Are you travelers, dearies? Here, take some of these for your journey. They’re fresh from the oven."

Y/N smiled warmly at the woman, accepting the wrapped food gratefully. "Thank you, ma’am. We’ll take a few for the road. We’re heading into the city to sell some goods."

The woman’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. "Vendors, are you? What goods do you sell?"

Tomioka stepped in smoothly, his voice calm and composed. "Rare herbs and medicinal supplies. We’ve traveled far to bring them here."

"Ah, I see," the woman nodded, clearly satisfied with the explanation. "The city could use more of those with all the trouble it’s been having lately. Stay safe out there, won’t you?"

Y/N nodded, giving the woman a polite bow as she took the parcels of food. "We will. Thank you again."

With their new attire and provisions in hand, they made their way to another part of the market where carriages were for sale. Among them was a modest yet sturdy carriage, the kind once used by traveling merchants in older times. It was simple, crafted from dark wood with intricate carvings along the edges, the wheels well-worn but still reliable. It looked just inconspicuous enough to avoid drawing attention.

“This one will do,” Giyuu said, inspecting the carriage. He handed over a few small bags racked with coins to the merchant, who nodded in approval before stepping aside to allow them to take it.

As they secured the carriage, Y/N felt a strange mixture of anticipation and nerves. This mission was unlike any she had faced before, requiring not just strength and skill but cunning and adaptability. She glanced at Tomioka, who was adjusting the straps on the horse’s bridle with practiced ease. His demeanor remained as cool and collected as ever, though she could sense a subtle tension in his movements.

As they climbed into the carriage, Y/N couldn’t resist another attempt at conversation, hoping to lighten the mood. “You know,” she began, her tone casual as she settled beside him, “this is the first time I’ve ever posed as a vendor. I suppose it’s just another skill I’ll have to master as a Hashira.”

Tomioka didn’t reply immediately, his eyes focused on the road ahead as he guided the horse forward. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady. “It’s part of the job. We adapt to the situation.”

“True enough,” the young girl agreed, though she couldn’t help but smile at his straightforwardness. “Still, I hope my sales pitch is convincing enough.”

They continued in relative silence after that, the city growing closer with every passing moment. The air became thicker with the sounds of city life—people calling out to each other, the creak of wooden wheels on cobblestone streets, and the distant clanging of metal from a blacksmith’s forge.

Y/N leaned back slightly, observing the growing activity as they neared the city gates. The massive wooden doors stood tall and imposing, flanked by stern guards in traditional uniforms. Their eyes were sharp, scanning each person and cart that passed through with meticulous attention to detail.

As they approached the entrance, Y/N’s senses heightened as she prepared for any sign of trouble. The guards glanced at their carriage, eyes lingering on the goods piled neatly in the back—bundles of herbs, sacks of rice, and crates of dried medicinal plants that Y/N had carefully arranged to complete their disguise.

The lead guard, a tall man with a weathered face, stepped forward, his gaze narrowing slightly as he addressed them. “State your business.”

Tomioka responded without missing a beat, his tone calm and even. “We’re vendors, bringing in supplies for the city. Rare herbs and medicines.”

The guard’s eyes flicked between them, taking in their attire and the carriage. After a tense moment, he nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Be quick about your business,” he said gruffly. “And don’t cause any trouble.”

“Of course,” Y/N replied politely, offering a small smile. “Thank you.”

With that, the guards stepped aside, allowing them to pass through the gates and into the heart of the city. The streets inside were narrow and bustling, filled with people hurrying about their daily lives, oblivious to the dark presence lurking in the shadows.

As they moved deeper into the city, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled over her. The destruction caused by the demon was evident in the occasional collapsed building, the air still thick with the scent of smoke and dust. But beneath it all, there was a sense of determination—a resolve among the people to rebuild and carry on, despite the danger that lurked just beyond their sight.

The carriage rattled slightly as they navigated the uneven streets, Y/N’s thoughts racing as they neared their destination. The demon was out there somewhere, hidden among the throngs of people, waiting to strike again. And when it did, they would be ready.

~

As they ventured deeper into the city, the bustling streets began to shift from the vibrant morning markets to the quieter, shadowed alleys of the older districts. The difference was palpable—the energy was subdued, the people more cautious as they moved about their business. The city itself seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for something to happen.

Tomioka guided their carriage with practiced ease, maneuvering it through the winding roads as the young girl kept a careful watch on their surroundings. They had successfully maintained their cover as traveling vendors, moving with the flow of the city without drawing undue attention. Their simple attire, combined with the unassuming nature of their carriage, allowed them to blend in seamlessly. Even the guards, alert as they were, had paid them little mind.

But beneath the surface, Y/N could feel the tension building, like the low rumble of distant thunder. The city was teetering on the edge, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to tip it over.

As they made their way through one of the older, more worn neighborhoods, she noticed a shift in the air. The buildings here were older, their wooden beams weathered and sagging slightly with age. The streets were narrower, the shadows longer, and the faces of the people they passed were lined with worry and suspicion. There was a sense of unease that clung to the area, as if something dark and sinister lurked just beneath the surface.

Y/N leaned slightly out of the carriage, scanning the surroundings. Her gaze fell on a group of men gathered near the entrance of a small, nondescript building. The structure was old, its wooden walls faded and splintered, but there was something about it that caught her attention. The men seemed tense, their conversation hushed and hurried, as if they didn’t want to be overheard.

She turned to Tomioka, lowering her voice to avoid drawing attention. “That building over there… it seems like something’s off. Those men—did you see the way they’re talking? It’s like they’re afraid of being seen.”

Tomioka glanced in the direction she indicated, his expression unreadable. “Let’s keep moving. We need more information before we act.”

The young girl nodded, understanding the caution in his words. They couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not when the stakes were so high. The demon they were hunting was cunning and dangerous, capable of wreaking havoc with its explosive blood demon art. They needed to gather as much intel as possible before making their move.

As they continued to weave through the city’s backstreets, she began to pick up on the subtle signs of the demon’s presence. There were whispers among the townsfolk, rumors of strange occurrences and unexplained disappearances. The closer they got to the heart of the old district, the more frequent these murmurs became.

It wasn’t long before they came across a small tea shop, its entrance nestled between two narrow alleys. The sign above the door was faded, the paint peeling, but the scent of freshly brewed tea wafted invitingly from within. The girl nudged Tomioka, and they pulled the carriage to a stop.

“Let’s go inside,” Y/N suggested. “We might hear something useful.”

Tomioka gave a slight nod in agreement, and they both dismounted from the carriage, securing it at the side of the street before entering the tea shop.

Inside, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to the tense streets outside. The air was warm and fragrant, filled with the comforting aroma of tea and herbs. The shop was small, with a few low tables scattered around the room, each accompanied by cushions for seating. The walls were lined with shelves, stocked with jars of loose-leaf tea and various dried flowers and spices.

The shopkeeper, an elderly man with a kindly face and a hunch to his back, greeted them with a polite bow. “Welcome, travelers. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Y/N and Tomioka exchanged a glance before taking a seat at one of the tables near the back of the shop. The low murmur of conversation filled the room, blending with the soft clinking of tea cups and the rustle of fabric as patrons adjusted their seats. It was the perfect setting for eavesdropping without raising suspicion.

They ordered a pot of tea, and as they waited for it to arrive, the young lady allowed her gaze to wander, taking in the details of the room. The patrons were mostly locals—men and women dressed in simple attire, their faces etched with the weariness of city life. But there was an underlying tension in the air, a quiet unease that hung over the room like a shroud.

As the shopkeeper brought their tea, Y/N overheard a conversation at a nearby table. Two men, hunched over their cups, were speaking in low, urgent tones.

“It’s been happening more and more often,” one of the men was saying, his voice barely above a whisper. “Young men, disappearing without a trace. My cousin’s son—he went out to gamble a few nights ago, and he hasn’t been seen since.”

The other man nodded grimly. “It’s that place, I tell you. The old gambling house on the edge of the district. Everyone who goes there ends up vanishing. It used to be crowded every night, but now… now people are too afraid to go.”

Y/N’s interest piqued, and she exchanged a quick glance with Tomioka. This was exactly the kind of information they had been looking for.

“Have you heard what’s been happening there?” the first man continued, his voice shaking slightly. “Some say it’s cursed. Others think it’s something worse. People are talking about… demons.”

The second man shivered. “I don’t want to believe it, but after what I’ve heard… there’s no other explanation. The place is cursed. And the authorities—they won’t do anything. They don’t want to admit there’s something they can’t control.”

Y/N’s senses sharpened. This had to be the demon’s lair—the gambling house where people were disappearing. And the fact that it was only open at night made it all the more suspicious. The demon had been preying on the city’s vulnerable, drawing in the unsuspecting with the lure of easy money and then destroying them with its explosive blood demon art.

She turned her attention back to Tomioka, her voice low and steady. “That’s our target. The gambling house. It’s only open at night, which means we’ll have to go in after dark.”

Tomioka nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “We’ll need to be careful. If the demon is as powerful as we suspect, we can’t afford to underestimate it. And we’ll have to avoid drawing the attention of the authorities—they’ll only complicate matters.”

The sun had dipped low in the sky by the time they exited the tea shop, the streets bathed in the golden light of early evening. The city was beginning to wind down, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to the quiet stillness of the night. But Y/N knew that in the shadows, the real danger was just beginning.

“We should head back to the carriage,” Tomioka said, his voice breaking through her thoughts. “We’ll need to prepare for tonight.

Y/N nodded, falling into step beside him as they made their way back through the winding streets. The anticipation of the coming battle thrummed through her veins, sharpening her senses and heightening her awareness. She was ready—ready to face whatever lay ahead, ready to prove herself as a Hashira.

As Y/N and Tomioka navigated the increasingly darkened streets, the shadows seemed to deepen around them. The city’s earlier vibrancy had been replaced by an unsettling stillness, save for the distant echo of closing shutters and the occasional murmur of worried voices. The air was thick with tension, and even the usual evening chatter had fallen silent.

They were nearing the heart of the older district when they encountered an elderly man outside a small, dimly lit restaurant. The man was struggling with the heavy wooden gates, his hands moving with the practiced ease of someone who had done this task countless times before. He looked up as they approached, his expression one of mild surprise.

“What are you two doing out at this hour?” the old man called out, his voice raspy but tinged with genuine concern. “It’s dangerous to be traveling so late.”

Before the girl and her companion could respond, a loud, echoing clang reverberated through the city—the unmistakable sound of the city’s bells, their tolling signaling the start of a mandatory curfew. The old man frowned deeply, his gaze shifting to the distant sound.

“That’ll be the curfew,” he muttered, more to himself than to them. “They’ve been ringing those bells every night for the past week. Can’t say I blame them, not with those bombings happening.”

Y/N exchanged a quick glance with her companion, her brow furrowing slightly. The bombings, as the man called them, were undoubtedly the work of the demon they were hunting. But they couldn’t let on that they knew more than they should.

The old man turned back to them, his gaze shrewd. “What are you two doing out past curfew, anyway? It’s not safe to be wandering around. You’d better stay with us for the night. My wife will be happy to have some company.”

Y/N quickly shook her head, smiling politely. “Thank you for the offer, but we couldn’t impose. We’ll be fine.”

The old man raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “Oh? And why is it so important that you’re out and about so late? You wouldn’t be one of those bombers, now would you?” He chuckled, clearly intending the question as a joke, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his tone.

Y/N and Giyuu both stiffened, though they tried to keep their reactions subtle. The last thing they needed was to raise suspicion in a city already on edge. Y/N quickly forced a light laugh, though it sounded a bit strained even to her own ears.

“Of course not!” she replied, her tone lighthearted. “We’re just travelers, but we’ve clearly underestimated the curfew situation here.”

The old man squinted at them, then sighed, seemingly satisfied with her answer. “Well, curfew’s curfew. No use risking it. You’ll stay with us tonight. We’ve got a little guest room that’ll do just fine.”

Before either Y/N or Giyuu could protest further, the old man gestured for them to follow him. Realizing it would be more suspicious to refuse, they reluctantly agreed, following him through the narrow alleyway that led to a small, modest home tucked away behind the restaurant.

As they stepped inside, they were greeted by the warm, comforting smell of a home-cooked meal, the soft light from a single lantern casting a gentle glow over the room. The old man’s wife, a kind-looking woman with graying hair and a welcoming smile, looked up from the table where she was setting down bowls of steaming food.

“Who do we have here, dear?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Just a couple of travelers caught out after curfew,” the old man explained. “I told them they could stay the night.”

The woman’s eyes sparkled with warmth as she approached Y/N and Giyuu. “Welcome, welcome! It’s not often we get guests around here these days. You’re welcome to make yourselves at home.”

Y/N bowed her head in gratitude. “Thank you so much. We really appreciate your hospitality.”

As the old woman ushered them to sit at the table, the old man glanced between Y/N and Giyuu, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “A young couple traveling together, hmm? How romantic!”

Y/N felt herself get flustered at the implication, her eyes darting to Giyuu, who remained impassive, his expression unreadable. But she couldn’t help but notice the slight tensing of his jaw.

“We’re not—” The young girl began to protest, but the old man cut her off with a hearty laugh.

“Ah, no need to be shy!” he teased. “It’s good to see young love, even in times like these.”

Y/N felt her embarrassment deepen, but she forced a smile, trying to play along. “It’s nothing like that.”

Giyuu, for his part, simply nodded politely, clearly not interested in correcting the old man’s assumption. Y/N couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or simply indifferent, but she decided not to push it. There were more important things to focus on.

The old couple continued to chat with them as they ate, their conversation light and filled with stories of the city’s past. Y/N found herself relaxing slightly in their presence, though she never let her guard down completely. The night was still young, and the mission ahead was fraught with danger.

As the meal drew to a close, the old woman showed them to the small guest room at the back of the house. It was modest, with just a single futon and a small window that looked out onto the quiet street. Y/N thanked her again before the couple left them alone.

As soon as the door closed, Y/N let out a soft sigh, finally allowing herself to relax for a moment. She glanced over at Giyuu, who was already checking the room, his movements precise and efficient.

The young slayer let out a soft sigh, settling onto the futon. “Looks like we’re stuck here until morning,” she murmured, trying to mask her frustration.

But her partner shook his head, his gaze sharp. “We’re not waiting until morning. We’ll sneak out and head to the gambling house.”

Y/N blinked. “Won’t that make it more suspicious to the elder couple? If they find out we’re gone…”

“They won’t,” Giyuu interrupted, his voice calm and steady. “We’ll be back before dawn. We just have to be fast and kill the demon before then.”

The young lady hesitated for only a moment before nodding. There was no time to waste. Silently, they both rose, moving with the practiced ease of seasoned warriors. Their Hashira training made slipping out of the house without a sound effortless. In moments, they were outside, the cool night air brushing against their skin as they retrieved their swords, leaving their uniforms behind to maintain their cover.

They moved quickly, their feet barely touching the ground as they sped across the rooftops, silent as shadows. The city below was eerily quiet, the curfew keeping the streets deserted. But the stillness only heightened their senses, every noise and movement scrutinized as they made their way toward the gambling house.

The building came into view, its dimly lit entrance and faded signage a stark contrast to the bustling nightlife it once hosted. Y/N and Tomioka paused on the roof opposite, taking a moment to observe. The house was old, its wooden structure creaking in the night, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible hum of activity inside. This was their target’s lair.

With a silent nod to each other, they descended, landing lightly at the entrance. They adjusted their disguises, ensuring they looked the part of weary travelers seeking some entertainment before stepping inside.

Both of the slayers stepped through the weathered doors of the gambling house, and immediately, the atmosphere shifted. Despite the eerie quiet that had fallen over the city outside, the interior was alive with activity. The room was spacious, adorned with the warm glow of red lanterns that cast an almost dreamlike hue over the polished wooden floors and tatami mats. The scent of incense mingled with the sharp odor of alcohol, creating a heady mixture that clung to the air.

The gambling house was a stark contrast to the desolate streets outside, bustling with energy and life. Men, mostly young and brash, crowded around low tables where dice were cast, and cards were shuffled with quick, practiced hands. Their laughter and voices mingled into a loud, chaotic symphony that filled the room. It was clear that these were the city’s youth, wasting their nights and money in a desperate bid to stave off the darkness outside.

Scattered among them were a few women, their vibrant kimonos and painted faces a sharp contrast to the men’s worn attire. But it was the men who dominated the space, their flushed faces and drunken grins evidence of too much sake and too little sense.

As they both entered, their presence immediately drew attention. Y/N felt eyes on her, a few of the young men leering openly as she passed. The attention made her uncomfortable, the leers and whispered comments causing her to stiffen. A group of particularly bold men, their breath heavy with alcohol, stumbled forward, one of them reaching out as if to touch her.

“Oi, pretty lady! Why don’t you join us?” one of them slurred, his words barely coherent.

The girl’s discomfort was quickly replaced by a flash of irritation, but before she could respond, Giyuu stepped forward. His presence, usually so quiet and unobtrusive, suddenly became imposing. The cold, sharp look in his eyes was enough to send a chill down the spine of the drunken men.

“Back off,” Giyuu said, his voice low and deadly serious.

The men hesitated, the alcohol clouding their judgment for only a moment longer before they seemed to recognize the threat standing before them. They quickly backed away, muttering apologies as they slunk back to their games, their bravado fading under Tomioka’s sharp gaze.

Y/N shot Tomioka a grateful glance, though he only nodded slightly in acknowledgment before they continued deeper into the gambling house. They both knew better than to let their guard down; the demon was somewhere in this lively, chaotic mess.

They moved through the crowd, carefully scanning the faces of the gamblers and patrons, searching for any sign of the demon’s presence. The noise of the room seemed to pulse around them, but both Y/N and her companion on this mission remained focused, every sense alert.

As they navigated the maze of tables and bustling bodies, they began to subtly separate, each taking a different path through the room. Y/N’s eyes darted from face to face, noting the shadows and angles, the way the red lanterns flickered and played tricks with the light. She knew the demon could be anyone here—hiding in plain sight, blending into the chaos.

Tomioka, on the other side of the room, was just as vigilant, his movements precise and controlled as he examined the scene. They moved like two predators in the night, their senses tuned to the slightest anomaly, the smallest hint that their prey was near.

The girl moved quietly through the winding hallways of the gambling house, her senses alert despite the lively atmosphere just beyond the walls. The further they ventured, the dimmer the lights became, the noise of the main room fading into a distant hum. Eventually, she reached a door slightly ajar, revealing what appeared to be an office space. Papers were strewn across a low desk, and the room smelled faintly of ink and tobacco. This must be where the business side of the gambling house was managed.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room for anything out of the ordinary. But before she could investigate further, the hair on the back of her neck prickled—an instinctual warning honed by years of fighting demons. They turned just in time to see a man step into the doorway, his presence eerily quiet, almost unnatural in its suddenness.

The slayer’s suspicion flared, but she forced herself to stay calm, masking her unease with a friendly demeanor. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, her tone light, as if she hadn’t just been caught snooping around. “I was looking for the owner of this lively place. I’m hoping to discuss some business opportunities.”

The man, who was tall and thin with an unnervingly placid expression, watched her for a moment too long before finally speaking. “The owner? That would be me,” he said, his voice smooth but carrying an undercurrent of something darker. “I’m the one in charge of this establishment.”

“Ah, perfect timing then. I was hoping to discuss a partnership, perhaps an investment opportunity.”

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still unreadable. “Why don’t we discuss this somewhere more private?” He gestured for her to follow, leading her deeper into the building.

The corridor they entered was poorly lit, the shadows thickening as they walked further from the main hall.

Y/N kept her pace measured, though every step heightened her wariness.

Finally, they reached a small room at the end of the corridor. The man held the door open for her, his smile never reaching his eyes. “After you,” he said, his voice dripping with false politeness.

Y/N entered the room, taking in the sparse furnishings and the flickering candle that offered the only light. She turned to face the man, her muscles tensing as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Before she could react, the man’s demeanor shifted, his hand reaching out to touch her arm. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and oily, “I think we could work something out… something a bit more intimate.”

Y/N’s eyes darkened with anger. In one swift movement, she gripped his hand and twisted, throwing him across the room with a force that belied her slender frame. The man hit the wall with a dull thud, his body crumpling to the floor. But before she could make another move, she felt a presence behind her—silent, predatory.

A cold hand clamped around her wrist, pulling her back with unnatural strength. Y/N spun, coming face to face with the demon. Its eyes gleamed in the dim light, a twisted smile spreading across its face as it realized she had caught on to its identity.

“So, you’ve figured it out,” the demon hissed, its voice now a low, mocking growl.

The girl didn’t waste a second. She wrenched her wrist free, the demon’s grip surprisingly strong, and dashed toward the door. The demon snarled, lashing out with a speed that barely gave her time to dodge. Its attack missed her by inches, smashing into the wall and sending splinters of wood flying through the air. The sheer force of the strike confirmed what Y/N had suspected—this demon possessed a devastating explosive power that had likely caused the destruction in the city.

Y/N’s heart raced as she bolted from the room, her one goal to retrieve her sword, which she had left outside to avoid raising suspicion. Without it, she couldn’t decapitate the demon, and any fight would be futile.

Behind her, the demon’s footsteps echoed through the corridor, its fury palpable as it gave chase. Y/N darted through the hallways, her mind racing as she tried to recall the path back to the exit. The demon was close behind, its anger manifesting in bursts of raw, destructive energy that splintered the walls around her.

Finally, she spotted the exit, the faint light of the street just beyond the door. She burst through it, her lungs burning as she sprinted toward where she had stashed her sword. The demon’s rage was palpable, and she could hear it tearing through the building, its frustration growing as she evaded its grasp.

Y/N reached the spot where her sword lay hidden, her fingers closing around the familiar hilt. She spun around, her eyes locking onto the demon as it burst from the doorway, its form twisted with fury.

Y/N's grip tightened on her sword as she faced the demon, its eyes burning with fury as it charged at her with reckless abandon. She could feel the weight of the city behind her, the lives of countless innocents depending on her and Giyuu to stop this creature before it unleashed more destruction.

The demon's claws slashed through the air, but Y/ N was faster. She sidestepped, her movements precise and fluid, and retaliated with a quick slash aimed at the demon's torso. The demon twisted to avoid the strike, but not fast enough—her blade grazed its side, drawing black blood.

Just as the demon snarled in pain, Giyuu appeared from the shadows, his movements as smooth as water. He caught YIN's eye, and in that brief exchange, they communicated wordlessly, forming a plan. They had to corner the demon, keep it from using its explosive power to destroy the city or harm any of the civilians nearby.

Giyuu moved first, his sword flowing with the grace of a river as he executed Water Breathing: Seventh Form - Drop Ripple Thrust, Curve. His attack was perfectly timed, aimed to force the demon back toward Y/N. The demon recoiled from the strike, barely managing to avoid the sharp edge of Giyuu's blade, only to find itself trapped between the two Hashira.

With the demon momentarily disoriented, Y/N unleashed her own technique, her blade glowing with a deep crimson hue. "Blood Breathing: Second Form - Scarlet Mirage!" she called out, her sword slicing through the air.

The technique created a series of rapid, blood-red slashes that blurred before the demon's eyes, disorienting it further as it tried to keep track of her movements.

The demon snarled in frustration, its claws digging into the ground as it prepared to unleash another powerful attack.

But Tomioka was ready, his stance calm and unyielding as he drew on his own strength. With a swift motion, he performed Water Breathing: Fourth Form - Striking Tide, a series of flowing, consecutive strikes that aimed to contain the demon, minimizing its ability to unleash any explosive damage.

Y/N followed up immediately, her movements a dance of deadly precision. She darted in, her sword glinting in the dim light as she executed her next move. "Blood Breathing: Fifth Form - Crimson Bloom!" Her blade moved in a spiraling motion, leaving a trail of blood-red energy in its wake as it closed in on the demon's vulnerable neck.

The demon, now fully cornered, lashed out in desperation, but Tomioka and his companion moved in perfect synchrony.

Giyuu deflected the demon's claws with a final Water Breathing: Second Form - Water Wheel, while the girl closed in for the kill. In one swift motion, she brought her sword down, her blade severing the demon's head cleanly from its body.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause.

The demon's body crumpled to the ground, its head rolling away before disintegrating into ash. The city around them was eerily quiet, the only sound the distant echoes of the citizens who had no idea how close they had come to disaster.

The young girl stood still, her breath steady as she sheathed her sword, not a scratch on her. Glyuu did the same, his eyes meeting hers in a silent acknowledgment of their success. Despite their different styles, their teamwork had been flawless.

As the demon's ashes scattered into the night, they both knew that the city was safe-for now.

The mission was complete.

As the last echoes of the battle faded, the quiet night of the city was abruptly broken. Doors creaked open, and footsteps shuffled out onto the streets. Citizens, startled and bewildered, emerged from their homes and gambling dens, shaking off the stupor of drink and confusion.

Their eyes widened as they took in the scene—the lingering traces of demon blood on the streets, the slight tremor of destroyed wood and stone where the demon had unleashed its explosive demon art, though thankfully contained by Giyuu's swift intervention.

The once-rowdy gambling den had gone silent, save for the murmurs of the shaken gamblers. The few sober enough to comprehend the chaos looked around in bewilderment, while the drunk ones tried to piece together the fragments of their shattered night.

Faces, once flushed with the thrill of betting, now turned pale as the reality of what had transpired dawned upon them.

The city bells rang out, louder and more frantic than before, signaling a call to arms. The authorities, alerted by the noise and the tremors, were swiftly mobilizing.

The distant clatter of armor and the shouts of orders echoed through the streets as the police prepared to investigate the disturbance.

Sensing the urgency of the situation, Y/N and Giyuu exchanged a brief glance. There was no time to waste. They moved in unison, slipping away from the scene with the fluidity and speed that only Hashira possessed.

In a matter of moments, they were mere shadows in the night, their presence erased from the minds of those who had witnessed the chaos.

With practiced ease, they navigated the rooftops and narrow alleys, making their way back to the old man's house. Their movements were silent, a stark contrast to the earlier commotion. As they approached the house, they ensured that not a single sound betrayed their arrival. The night, once again, fell into an eerie stillness.

Inside the old man's house, the warmth and coziness of the modest home provided a stark contrast to the cold, tension-filled night outside. Y/N and Giyuu settled into the small room they had been given, the weight of their recent mission still lingering in the air. Though they were far from physically exhausted, the social toll of the evening was evident. Their energy was spent, not from battle, but from the constant vigilance and unspoken understanding that had passed between them during the fight.

As the night deepened and the quiet of the house settled in, the realization dawned on both Y/N and Giyuu that there was only one bed available for them to rest in.

Giyuu, ever vigilant, immediately offered to stay on guard for the night, insisting that he wasn't tired. Y/N, equally drained but not in the physical sense, suggested they could take turns or, better yet, she could keep watch.

"You should rest," she urged softly, noting the slight tension in Tomioka’s posture. "I’m not tired either, and I can manage a few hours on watch."

“…I’m fine," he finally responded, his voice even but firm.

The young girl sensing his resolve, didn't press further but instead moved closer to the small light that flickered in the room, trying to dispel the lingering tension. She didn't want to force him, yet she knew he needed rest, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

As she considered what to do next, her eyes caught a glimpse of something unusual—a small, charred spot on the sleeve of Giyuu’s haori, where the fabric had been slightly burnt away.

"You're hurt," Y/N said, her voice soft but insistent as she reached out to touch his arm gently.

Giyuu looked down, as if only just realizing the injury. "It's nothing," he murmured, brushing it off as unimportant.

Y/N, however, was not so easily swayed. "Let me help." Her tone left no room for argument as she moved closer, her fingers gently tracing the burnt edges of the fabric. She had noticed the burn earlier, but now that they were in a moment of quiet, she couldn’t let it go untreated.

Before Giyuu could protest, Y/N summoned her blood breathing, her hand glowing with a soft crimson light as she focused her energy on healing the burn. The blood cells within the wound responded to her control, rapidly mending the damaged tissue.

As the burn slowly faded, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the closeness between them—his steady breathing, the warmth of his skin under her touch, the way the dim light seemed to soften his usually stoic expression.

Giyuu’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched her work, the tension between them palpable in the quiet room. Y/N felt it too, a strange mix of emotions that she couldn’t quite name. The silence stretched out, filled only with the soft sound of her breathing and the gentle hum of her technique.

Finally, the wound was healed, and Y/N withdrew her hand, the glow fading from her fingers. "There," she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "That should do it."

Giyuu's gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment longer before he spoke, his voice low and curious. "How can you do that?"

Y/N looked at him, her expression softening as she considered how to explain it. "It’s a bit complicated," she admitted, sitting down beside him. "My blood breathing… it actually stems from water breathing."

Tomioka’s eyebrows raised slightly. "Water breathing?" he echoed, the connection between their techniques piquing his interest.

She nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I never mastered water breathing the way you have," she said, her tone warm with genuine admiration. "You’re incredible with it, Mr. Tomioka. Your technique is flawless, so fluid and powerful. I always aspired to reach that level, but I could never quite get there."

Giyuu remained silent, listening intently as she continued.

"One day, during a battle," she continued, her voice growing quieter as she recalled the memory, "I was losing… badly. I was injured, bleeding more than I could handle. I thought it was the end, but then… something changed. I felt this surge of power, of control, and in a desperate moment, I used my blood to attack. It was like water—fluid, adaptable—but it was mine, born from my own desperation and will to survive. That's how I created blood breathing."

She paused, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the healed wound on his arm.

"It wasn’t easy, though. Manipulating my blood, and sometimes even others' blood, takes a toll. It drains a lot of my energy, and it has some pretty nasty aftereffects. But… it can be useful, like for healing minor injuries."

“it’s impressive," he finally said, his voice carrying a hint of something deeper, perhaps respect or understanding. "You found a way to survive, and you turned it into something powerful."

Y/N’s smile widened, a touch of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you," she replied softly. "But it comes with a price. After using it, I need time to recover. That’s why I try not to rely on it too much, unless I really have to."

Giyuu nodded, his gaze shifting to the quiet night outside. "Still, it’s a gift," he said, almost as if to himself. "And you’re using it to protect others. That’s what matters."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her at his words, however she couldn’t help noticing the spark or sadness reflected on Tomioka’s eyes as he said those words to her. There was something about the way he spoke—quiet, measured, but with a hint of there being more to him—that resonated with her. For a moment, the weight of the world outside their small room seemed to lift, leaving only the two of them in the peaceful silence.

"Maybe," Y/N mused, "that’s why we’re here together. Water and blood, they’re not so different, are they?"

As Y/N had finished healing the burn on Giyuu's arm, she found herself tracing the lines of his hand absentmindedly. Her fingers lingered on his skin, even though the wound had already closed, the flesh now smooth and unmarked. It was a simple, thoughtless action—a way to ensure her work was complete, but one that neither of them expected.

Tomioka had yet to notice it at first. But when he felt her fingers softly brushing against his hand once again, he snapped back to reality. His gaze shifted to their hands, the unexpected touch jarring him from his thoughts.

Without hesitation, he pulled his hand back sharply, the motion sudden and definitive. The connection between them—whatever it was—was severed as quickly as it had formed.

“Thank you,” he said, his tone neutral and controlled. “You should rest now. I’ll stay on guard.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by his abruptness. The shift in his demeanor was like a bucket of cold water, and she quickly withdrew her own hand. She nodded, trying to suppress the slight embarrassment creeping in. “I…Alright.”

His words were final, leaving no room for further discussion. Therefore, Y/N swallowed and simply went along, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. She had crossed a line, let herself relax too much around someone she barely knew.

She turned away from him, lying down on the bed with her back facing him. The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with the unspoken awkwardness of their interaction.

As Y/N lay there, she tried to push away the discomfort gnawing at her. The presence of Tomioka behind her, though calm and collected, felt distant—an unfamiliar presence that only added to the tension. It was clear they were both here for the mission, nothing more, and she had to remind herself of that. There was no need for unnecessary familiarity.

Focusing on her breathing, she tried to will herself to sleep, forcing her mind to quiet down. There was no point in dwelling on what had happened. They were both professionals, after all, and this was just another step in their shared duty.

To be continued….

a/n: hope y’all enjoy!!!!! take care of yourselves <3

[jflemings]

— inevitable

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: jessie’s leaving chelsea which means she also has to leave you / part 2

warning: ANGSTTT, breakup but soft bc ur both still so in love, suggestive towards the end

a/n: i put my whole pegussy into this like…

It's inevitable everything that's good comes to an end

tears begin to cloud your vision, blurring the image of jessie standing in front of you in your living room “you’re not here for dinner, are you?”

the canadian looks down at her feet “no” she mumbles, almost shamefully “i’m sorry”

you knew she was being honest. you could see it all over her face, this was something that she didn’t want to do to either of you. if you know jessie well, and you do, you know that she would’ve gone over a million and one different scenarios in her head before landing on this one. she would’ve tried to come up with a solution that suited the both of you, one that ensured she wouldn’t end up standing in your apartment breaking up with you the way she is now.

unfortunately, life hasn’t worked out that way.

“no, jess. i get it” you say softly, trying your best to put on a brave face “this is for your career, your future”

she shakes her head almost immediately at your words “you— you are my future” she rushes, eyes wide in an effort to show you she’s being honest.

you can’t help but sigh and hold your hand out to her, urging her to take it. she does so delicately, her fingers curving into your palm slowly as she lets you guide her to the spot next to you on the couch. she keeps her distance but continues to hold your hand as a means of keeping grounded and secure in the moment she’s been dreading since she made her decision.

the mascara that you applied this morning is now making its way down your face and you use your free hand to swipe under your eyes “i’m not anymore” you whisper to her “and that’s okay” the small smile on your face isn’t convincing at all, but it’s the best you’ve got “i’m so proud of you”

that seems to completely break jessie. her brave face crumbles in a matter of seconds, she finally lets the tears that have slowly been building stream down her face, choked sobs escaping her throat “th-is wasn’t what i wanted, i swear” she emphasised “i tried to find another way and i just couldn’t”

you run your fans soothingly up the length of her spine “baby i know, i know” you coo into her ear “but you’re gonna go to portland and you’re gonna have the fucking time of you life, jessie” you swipe your thumbs under her eyes “christine and janine are gonna take such good care of you”

“that doesn’t make me feel any better”

“but it makes me feel better” you mumble “knowing somebody is gonna have your back”

she leans her head on your shoulder silently, the hand that’s running up and down her back never pausing. the two of you sigh and catch your breath, both breathing deep to try to calm yourselves. you’ve broken up with people and been broken up with before, but none of them have ever made you feel the way you feel right now. you swear you can actually feel your heart breaking in your chest, splinter fine cracks splitting it open over and over again like you’re reliving the moment whilst still being in it. this is more then just some breakup, this is the love of your life, and you are actually losing her.

“you’re the one” she sniffles “this is temporary i swear, one day i’ll make you my wife and we’ll have a life together and this will all be worth it” the midfielder looks up at you from her position on your shoulder “there won’t be anyone else. not in this lifetime”

before you can even think of what to say you’re shaking your head in disagreement “no, no, no jess. you can’t treat this as a waiting period” you whisper forcefully, causing jessie’s eyes to well up again “you need to live your life without me, see all it has to offer! this is only your second professional contract you have no idea where you’ll end up–”

“with you. i’ll end up with you” she cuts you off fiercely and grips both your hands tightly “this move is for my career but my future is with you. i know what i’m talking about, y/n, please don’t treat me like i don’t”

she leaves you speechless and you can’t help but feel a bit guilty for the way you’re behaving. you’re not intentionally pushing her away, god only knows you want to wrap your arms around her and never let go, but you don’t want to hold her back.

“jess i swear i’m not, i just…” you pause and purse your lips “i just don’t want you to make up your mind so quickly, you don’t know what kind of people are in portland” it’s a weak attempt at a reason but you at least want to put the idea in her head. breakups are miserable, especially when you’re not going to have the support system you’ve been building for the past four years around you.

that’s what worried you the most, that perhaps sinc and janine wouldn’t be enough for jessie. you knew that the bond the three of them shared was unbreakable but they were no niamh.

jessie let’s go of your hands as her eyes go wide “do… do you want to see other people?” she whispers the question like she’s afraid of the answer and you feel your heart once again breaking

“no” you say sternly “what i want is for you to stay here with me so that i can put you in my pocket and keep you forever” you try to joke, earning at least a smile out of the woman in front of you “but this isn’t about me” you smile sadly.

she takes your hands again, running her finger over your currently unoccupied ring finger “one day it will be” she assures quietly before looking into your eyes. she lets go of your hands and grabs the sides of your face, not giving you any warning before she kisses you.

you’re both crying, and you can feel the heaviness of jessie’s heart, but that doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter because she’s kissing you more fiercely then she ever has before, and she’s giving all the love she has for you back. jessie wants you to take it and to keep it all for yourself. she wants you to always have a part of her heart with you, even though you own all of it.

she wants to know that she’s not leaving you loveless when she gets on that plane.

you seperate from her, leaving about an inch of space between your lips “stay” you mumble

her eyes close momentarily “y/n–”

“jess, please” you cry “just tonight and then– then it’s over, i swear” you plead, almost beg, to her as you grip the hem of her shirt tightly.

“we’re meant to be breaking up” she sighs sadly

your hands ball up in her shirt “we are” you assure “but please let me have tonight”

jessie caresses your cheek lovingly, pudding stray bits of hair out of your face. her brown eyes droop as the sadness weighs them down, a fresh wave of tears spilling over her waterline. she kisses you harder than before, slowly standing and bringing you with her. you know that this is the best answer she can give you, that if she were to speak her voice would betray her and break.

“no one else” she says against your lips “my forever”

you smile sadly and wrap your arms around her neck as she hoists you up onto her waist. she walks her way to your bedroom blindly, having done this a thousand times by now, and lightly kicks open the door. instead of laying you down like she normally would, she sits you down on the edge and grasps your chin in between her thumb and forefinger.

“you’re so beautiful” she whispers, her thumb stroking your chin lightly as you look up at her through glassy eyes.

“just tonight, i swear” you whisper back to her. the room is clouded by sadness and all you want to do is keep her here with you. you want to be selfish and tell her that this will work through long distance and that the two of you can make it, but you know that’s not true.

the love is real and true between the two of you, but it’s also fierce and passionate and sometimes hard to handle. you and jessie both know that if you stayed together you’d eventually run yourselves and your careers into the ground, the distance would only break you. but right now she’s yours, even if she won’t be in twenty four hours, she is right now.

“just tonight” she murmurs

[yumicreatesworld]

Heyyy! Could you make a Ni-ki angst? Like Ni-ki and reader were classmates in elementary school and Ni-ki bullied them or like treated them badly but in high school Ni-ki got a crush on her and know he feels bad bc reader act like nothing happened in the past.

I hope you understood what I meant and thank you if you write it!

Take care love<3

Forging Friendship: A Journey of Redemption - Nishimura Riki

Summary: Riki, once a bully, seeks to make amends with Y/N, whom he mistreated in elementary school. Through genuine efforts and newfound maturity, their bond strengthens as they navigate high school together, fostering trust and understanding.”

Pairing: bully!Ni-ki x student!reader

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3.4k

Genre: Contemporary, Young Adult Fiction

Warnings: bullying, themes of emotional turmoil

Thank you, hunni pumpkin, for my first ever request! I hope I was able to fulfill your request, feedback is greatly appreciated. (NB: I don’t have kindergarten, elementary or high school where I am from, nor grades, junior year, senior year, etc. Sorry if my information is incorrect,😭)

@loriszeretinikit

In the bustling halls of your elementary school, you always felt like an outsider. You preferred the company of books and your own imagination over the chaotic playground games. It wasn’t that you didn’t like people; it was just that the noise and drama of your peers often felt overwhelming. Unfortunately, this made you an easy target for Riki.

Riki was the kind of boy who thrived on attention. His antics and pranks made him popular among the other kids, but they often came at the expense of someone else. More often than not, that someone else was you. Whether it was hiding your books, making fun of your quiet nature, or tripping you in the hallways, Riki seemed to have made it his mission to make your life difficult.

One particularly bad day stood out in your memory. It was the day of your group project presentation in front of the whole class. You had spent weeks preparing, putting in extra effort to make sure everything was perfect. The topic was something you were passionate about, and you were excited to share your work.

As your group got ready to present, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. However, just before it was your turn to speak, Riki, who was part of your group, smirked and pulled a small, hidden cord that caused the project display to collapse. The carefully arranged posters and models came crashing down, and the class erupted in laughter.

“Whoops, my bad,” Riki said with a shrug, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

Your face burned with embarrassment as you scrambled to pick up the pieces. The teacher tried to restore order, but the damage was done. Your carefully planned presentation was ruined, and the sense of pride you had felt was replaced by humiliation.

For the rest of the day, you avoided everyone’s gaze, the sting of Riki’s actions lingering long after the incident ended. It wasn’t just the pranks and public humiliation that hurt the most. It was the little things, too. The whispered comments as you walked by, the snickers behind your back, the feeling of always being watched and judged. It made you withdraw even further into yourself, seeking solace in the pages of your books where the characters were kinder than the children around you.

Your only escape was the library, a quiet sanctuary where you could lose yourself in stories far removed from your own reality. There, you found comfort in the silence, away from Riki’s taunts and the harsh world of the playground.

Despite everything, you never told anyone about the bullying. You didn’t want to be seen as weak, and a part of you hoped that if you ignored it long enough, it would stop. But the pain was always there, a constant companion during those formative years.

As elementary school came to an end, you looked forward to a fresh start in high school, hoping to leave behind the memories of Riki’s cruelty and the hurt it caused. You spent that summer reading, preparing yourself mentally for the new beginning. High school was a chance to redefine yourself, to be someone more confident and less affected by the past.

The first day of high school arrived, and you walked through the gates with a mixture of anxiety and hope. The campus was much larger, filled with new faces and new opportunities. As you navigated through the crowded hallways, you reminded yourself that this was your chance to start over.

Yet, as fate would have it, one of the first familiar faces you saw was Riki’s. He had grown taller over the summer, his features more mature, but the sight of him brought a rush of old memories and a pang of anxiety. You steeled yourself, determined not to let the past define your high school experience.

Riki’s eyes met yours briefly in the hallway, and you quickly looked away, pretending not to notice. You kept your head high and your focus straight ahead, refusing to let the memories of elementary school overshadow your new beginning. As the days turned into weeks, you found solace in your classes and new friendships, slowly building a new identity for yourself, one that wasn’t marked by Riki’s cruelty.

High school was your chance to be someone new, and you embraced it fully. You participated in clubs, made new friends, and excelled academically. You became someone who was respected and admired, not for how quiet you were, but for your kindness, intelligence, and resilience.

Yet, even as you thrived, the shadow of the past lingered in the background. Riki was no longer the same mischievous boy, and you often caught glimpses of him looking your way with a conflicted expression. It seemed he, too, was dealing with the echoes of the past, but you pushed those thoughts aside. This was your time to shine, and you weren’t going to let anything dim your light.

I leaned against the window of the train, watching the cityscape gradually transform into rolling hills and lush greenery. My parents had decided that a summer away from the city would do me good, so they sent me to my grandparents’ house in the countryside. I wasn’t thrilled at first, but as the train moved further from the familiar, I felt a strange sense of anticipation. Maybe this was what I needed—a break from everything.

Upon arrival, my grandparents greeted me warmly. My grandfather, a stoic yet kind man, patted my shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Riki. You’ve grown.”

I smiled, feeling a bit awkward but comforted by their presence. Their house was a quaint, old-fashioned home surrounded by fields and forests. It was a world away from the bustling city and my usual distractions.

The first few days were uneventful. I helped with chores, spent time exploring the woods, and tried to keep my mind off things. But the tranquility of the countryside made it hard to ignore the thoughts that had been gnawing at me. Memories from elementary school, particularly of you, kept surfacing, filling me with a deep sense of regret.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, my grandfather found me sitting alone on the porch. “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

I shrugged, “Sure, Grandpa.”

We sat in silence for a while, watching the fireflies flicker in the gathering dusk. Finally, he spoke. “I see a lot on your mind, Riki. Something you want to talk about?”

I hesitated but then sighed. “I’ve been thinking about how I used to treat someone back in elementary school. There was this girl, Y/N. I was really mean to her. I bullied her, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

My grandfather nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s good that you’re reflecting on your past actions. It means you’re growing up. But feeling guilty isn’t enough. You need to take responsibility and make amends if you can.”

“How do I do that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“By showing that you’ve changed through your actions. Be kind, be respectful, and if you get the chance, apologize sincerely. It’s never too late to make things right.”

I pondered his words. The next day, I decided to start making changes in small ways. I helped my grandparents more willingly, took on extra chores, and tried to be more considerate and patient. I found that these small acts of kindness made me feel better, more grounded.

My grandfather also shared stories from his own youth, times when he had made mistakes and had to learn from them. “We all mess up, Riki,” he said one evening. “What matters is how we choose to move forward. You have the power to become a better person.”

I spent the rest of the summer embracing this new mindset. I also rekindled my passion for dance, which had always been a source of joy and expression for me. My grandparents encouraged me, watching proudly as I practiced in the open fields, my movements becoming more fluid and purposeful.

My grandmother had also given me a journal. “Write down your thoughts, your goals. It might help you sort through everything.”

I took her advice and began journaling. I wrote about my regrets, my hopes for the future, and my desire to change. The act of writing helped me clarify my intentions and strengthened my resolve to be better.

As the summer drew to a close, I felt a profound sense of transformation. I had grown not just physically but emotionally and mentally. I was determined to carry this new perspective into the school year and beyond.

It was the first day of junior year, and Riki stood at the entrance of the high school, scanning the sea of faces.

As he walked through the crowded hallways, greeting friends and acquaintances, he spotted a familiar face—you. You had changed since elementary school. Your posture was more confident, your smile brighter, and there was an air of indifference around you that made you almost unrecognizable. Yet, something about you drew him in, something that made his heart race and his stomach churn with regret.

Riki couldn’t shake the memories of how he had treated you. The pranks, the taunts, the humiliation he had caused—all of it came rushing back. He watched you from afar, captivated by your resilience and grace. He wanted to approach you, to apologize, but every time he tried, the words caught in his throat. He feared you would see him as the same bully from your past.

Days turned into weeks, and Riki found himself unable to stay away. He would catch glimpses of you in the hallways, during lunch, and in classes you shared. He noticed how you interacted with others—kind, intelligent, and respected. You had built a life for yourself that seemed untouched by the shadows of your shared past.

One afternoon, Riki finally gathered the courage to speak to you. He found you sitting alone under a tree, engrossed in a book. Taking a deep breath, he approached. This was it—the moment he had been dreading and longing for all at once.

“Hey,” he said, his voice shaky.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his with a calm, unreadable expression. “Hi,” you replied, your tone polite but distant.

“I… I don’t know if you remember me,” Riki began, his hands trembling. “But we were classmates in elementary school. I treated you badly, and I’ve felt awful about it ever since. I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You studied him for a moment, your face portraying no emotion. “It’s okay,” you said finally. “It was a long time ago.”

Riki’s heart sank. Your indifference was worse than anger. “No, it’s not okay,” he insisted. “I hurt you, and I need to make it right. Please, let me make it up to you somehow.”

You closed your book and stood up, looking him in the eyes. “Riki, I’ve moved on. You should too. We were kids back then, and kids do stupid things. But we’re different people now.”

Riki watched you walk away, feeling more lost than ever. Your words, though reasonable, didn’t absolve the guilt that gnawed at him. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t just let it go.

Over the next few days, Riki struggled with how to show you he was sincere. He realized a simple apology wouldn’t be enough. He needed to prove through his actions that he had changed. But how? He barely knew you now, and you seemed so far removed from the girl he had tormented.

Riki wandered, pondering his thoughts, when he saw you struggling with a stack of books outside the library. He rushed over without thinking. “Let me help you with those,” he offered.

You hesitated for a moment but then nodded. “Thanks.”

As he carried the books for you, he tried to make small talk. “I noticed you like reading a lot. What’s your favorite book?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the question. “It changes, but right now, I’m really into ‘Pride and Prejudice.’”

Riki nodded, genuinely interested. “I’ve heard it’s good. Maybe I should give it a read.”

You looked at him skeptically, a small smile playing on your lips. “You don’t strike me as the classic literature type.”

Riki chuckled, relieved to see a hint of warmth in your demeanor. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t before, but I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”

You seemed to soften a bit at that. “Well, it’s never too late to start.”

Riki continued to find small ways to help you. He held doors open, saved you a seat in class, and even stood up for you when others tried to belittle you. At first, you were wary of his intentions, but gradually, you began to see that his efforts were genuine.

“Thank you, Riki,” you said softly. “I see that you’re trying, and I appreciate it. Let’s start over, as friends.”

Riki felt a weight lift off his shoulders. “I’d like that,” he replied, smiling for the first time in what felt like years.

As you spent more time together, Riki’s feelings for you grew deeper. He admired your strength, your kindness, and your ability to move forward despite the past. He found himself falling for you, not just because of his guilt, but because of who you had become.

One afternoon, you and Riki found yourselves alone in the library, working on a group project. The other members had taken a break, leaving the two of you surrounded by the quiet hum of study sessions and the occasional shuffle of books being returned to shelves. The atmosphere was tense with unspoken words, both of you aware of the lingering tension from your shared history.

Riki had been grappling with his guilt and uncertainty for months, haunted by memories of his actions in elementary school. As he stole glances at you, diligently scribbling notes in your project binder, he knew he couldn’t keep avoiding the conversation that weighed heavily on his conscience.

Finally, summoning all his courage, Riki spoke up, his voice tinged with sincerity and vulnerability. “Y/N,” he began, his tone serious yet hesitant, “I know I’ve said sorry before, but I feel like it wasn’t enough. I really want to explain why I acted the way I did back then.”

You looked up from your notes, meeting his gaze with a mix of curiosity and caution. Your eyes, usually warm and welcoming, now held a guarded expression that mirrored the walls you had built around yourself. “Okay, I’m listening,” you replied quietly, willing to give him this moment to explain.

Riki took a deep breath, his hands fidgeting with a pencil he had picked up absentmindedly. “When we were kids,” he began slowly, choosing his words with care, “I didn’t understand a lot about myself or how to treat others. I was insecure and desperate to fit in. I thought… I thought making fun of you would make me look cool.”

He paused, the weight of his admission hanging heavy in the air between you. “It was wrong and cowardly,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I regret it deeply.”

You listened in silence, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you—pain from the memories of being ridiculed, skepticism about Riki’s sincerity, and a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, people could change.

“It’s hard for me to reconcile the person you were with who you seem to be now,” you finally admitted, your voice soft but laced with underlying uncertainty.

Riki nodded earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. “I understand,” he said sincerely. “And I don’t expect you to forget or forgive easily. But I want you to know that every day, I try to be a better person. Meeting you again has given me a chance to make things right, and I don’t want to waste it.”

Your expression softened slightly, a faint hint of understanding dawning in your eyes. “I can see that you’re trying, Riki,” you acknowledged quietly, your guard easing just a fraction. “But it’s going to take time for me to fully trust you.”

Riki exhaled slowly, relief washing over him at your words. “I know,” he replied earnestly, his voice tinged with determination. “And I’m prepared for that. I just want to be someone you can count on, even if it’s just as a friend.”

The library seemed to cocoon around you both, the weight of the past slowly easing as Riki’s honesty and vulnerability bridged the gap between you. It was a small step forward, but for Riki, it felt like the first ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds after a long, dark night.

And, Riki kept his words, continuing to show his commitment through his actions. He was there when you needed help with schoolwork, offering explanations patiently and without judgment. He saved you a seat during lunch breaks, engaging you in conversations that gradually moved beyond surface topics to deeper discussions about life, dreams, and shared interests.

Each interaction was a testament to Riki’s genuine effort to be a better person and a reliable friend. And though the road to rebuilding trust was fraught with uncertainties and hesitations, both you and Riki knew that every small step forward was worth it.

One evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the streets, you walked home together with Riki. The usual bustle of the day had settled into a serene quiet, creating a moment of intimacy between the two of you.

“Y/N,” Riki began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, “I need you to know that my feelings for you aren’t just about making up for the past. I truly care about you, and I want to be someone who supports and cherishes you.”

His words hung in the air, a gentle breeze stirring the leaves overhead as you processed their weight. You slowed your pace, turning to face Riki, searching his eyes for any hint of uncertainty or insincerity.

“Riki,” you replied slowly, your voice quiet but steady, “it’s taken me a long time to come to terms with what happened between us in the past. I appreciate your honesty and your efforts to change. But trust… trust takes time.”

Riki nodded, his expression earnest as he listened to your words. He understood the depth of your caution, knowing that his actions in the past had left scars that couldn’t be easily forgotten.

“I promise you, Y/N,” Riki spoke earnestly, his voice carrying a note of determination, “I’m not that same person anymore. I’ve learned from my mistakes, and I’m committed to proving it to you, no matter how long it takes.”

You studied him for a moment, observing the sincerity in his eyes and the sincerity in his voice. There was a vulnerability in his stance, a raw honesty that touched something deep within you.

“I can see that you’ve changed, Riki,” you admitted quietly, a flicker of hope kindling in your heart. “And I want to believe in you.”

Riki’s shoulders relaxed slightly, relief evident in his features. “Thank you, Y/N,” he replied gratefully. “I know I still have a lot to prove, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

As you continued walking, the weight of Riki’s words lingered between you, weaving a thread of understanding and tentative trust. The road ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and moments of doubt, but in that fleeting moment, you dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, forgiveness and healing were possible.

Over the following weeks and months, Riki remained steadfast in his efforts to prove himself to you. He continued to be a supportive presence in your life, offering encouragement during challenging times and celebrating your successes with genuine enthusiasm. He respected your boundaries and never pushed for more than you were ready to give.

Slowly but surely, your trust in Riki grew. It wasn’t a sudden transformation but a gradual evolution, built on a foundation of mutual respect, honesty, and shared experiences. Together, you navigated the complexities of friendship and the delicate dance of rebuilding what had been broken.

And as each day passed, Riki’s actions spoke louder than words, demonstrating his unwavering commitment to being the person you could rely on—a friend who cherished your trust and valued your presence in his life.

I hope you all enjoyed! Please do leave all the criticism as it helps make me a better writer. Also, I tried some new things, like a change of frame. Let me know how the overall story flowed for you all. Love you!

[fineghkst]

Too late (part II)

Once Rhysand invites Eris to the winter solstice, you got all the attention from the heir of the Autumn Court, making a jealous Azriel.

i almost gave up posting this bc idk if it’s good, but here it is 😖

warnings: a little angst and kinda suggestive at the end

if you find any mistakes please let me know!

part I

[masterlist]

No one knew where Azriel was.

He simply disappeared after the disaster during the winter solstice. All his clothes and weapons were left in his room, except the Truth Teller. Eveything was untouchable, exactly where he left it before leaving Velaris.

You could feel Rhysand and Feyre were trying to hide something from you. They told you not to worry, that Azriel would come back soon, but you didn’t believe them. You could sense they weren’t sure if Az would actually come back.

You couldn’t understand why the inner circle was acting so weird, even Cassian seemed to be more careful with his jokes when you were around. Like you could break if something wrong was said.

You two got closer over the years, especially after you started training with him during the mornings. You got used to being woken up by him, calling you lazy for still being in bed. Azriel's calm face became the first thing you saw as soon as you opened your eyes, with the shadows always prowling around him.

But now, as the Spymaster, no one would find him unless he wanted to.

During that week, which seemed to be the longest time of your life, Eris sent a lot of letters and gifts. At that point you received a hole collection of jewelry made from fire stone and an invitation to dinner with him at the Autumn Court. Still, you couldn’t feel excited to see Eris. So you ignored all the letters and left all the gifts abandoned under your bed.

The only thought in your mind my was Azriel.

Sometimes you felt like your heart was being crushed, and it hurt like someone’s pain was being added to yours.

You’re feeling miserable and didn’t understand why Azriel’s suddenly disappearance was affecting you that much. You two were only friends, that was all. Even if you felt a deeper feeling for him, you knew he would never like you that way.

When Eris started to give you attention, you saw a chance to get over Azriel. But even with all your efforts to love the male, your feeling for Az didn’t go away.

At some point, you started to have nightmares. You keep dreaming about Azriel being hurt by someone, Azriel being killed or simply never being found again, leaving you alone in this world forever.

Today you woke up scared, letting a cry of despair escape from your mouth. You still could see the image of your dream in your head, of Azriel’s lifeless body laying in a dark forest.

Panic still spread throughout your mind. The image refused to leave. You wanted to scream, you wish to go back in time and fix everything, to tell Azriel how you felt.

“(Y/n)?” The familiar voice said, making your heart beat faster.

Azriel was standing in front of your door with a worried look on his face. He walked in your direction with caution, like he was scared that you would disappear if any sudden movement was made.

“Az?” You asked, afraid that was just another dreams and you would woke up at any second just to find out he was still missing.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

“I heard you screaming” He asked with a low hoarse voice.

“I’m fine, it was just… a nightmare.”

“I understand.” Azriel looked at you, trying to find the right words to say next “I’m sorry to enter in your room like this, I just… I just thought you could be in danger.”

“It’s okay.” You wanted to get closer to him, to talk everything that was running your mind. “I was worried about you, why did you left like that? What happened at the winter solstice?”

The questions left your mouth before you could stop them.

Azriel’s shadows were dancing around him, slowly approaching your body, as if they were happy to finally see you again.

“I’m sorry for that as well” Azriel let a sigh left his mouth “I left because I’m a selfish bastard. I wish I could say I have a honorable reason for it, but I don’t. The truth is I left because I couldn’t see you near Eris anymore”

You tried to digest his words, finally starting to understand.

“Honestly, at that point I wasn’t giving a shit for Rhysand’s alliance with Eris. And I should, because he’s my friend, my brother and my High Lord.” He finally looked inside your eyes “But I can’t watch my mate with another male, especially him.”

The shock spread throughout your body.

Mate.

That’s what he said. You’re his mate.

“Azriel.” You said, breaking the distance and taking his hands with your own.

He felt a shiver go through his spine. The way you hold his scarred hands without hesitation, your eyes carried with affection. Even if they’ve caused only pain and suffering in the last few centuries for the others.

For the first time, he didn’t felt like a monster, like a villain of someone’s story. He could be the villain to a lot of people, but not to you. Azriel would never be able to hurt you.

“Let me finish first.” Azriel interrupted before you could say anything “I’m back because of you, to fight for you. I don’t want to believe it’s too late for us.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You said “I’m so stupid, if I wasn’t so scared of telling you how I felt, none of that would’ve happened”

“How you felt?” He looked confused. “You have feelings for me?”

“How can the Spymaster be so oblivious of what is infront of your nose?” You said, laughing “Yes, I do have feelings for you, but I never thought you felt the same way. I was so blind that I didn’t even felt the bond.”

But it was there, filling your chest. Uniting your soul to Azriel’s. That’s why you felt so miserable in the last days, you could feel his despair echoing with yours through the bond, almost creating a sad melody.

“(Y/n)… please don’t tell me that I got into the biggest existencial crises of my life just because I was too scared to tell you about the bond. When I could have you long time ago.”

“Don’t feel bad, because I’m afraid we both did the same thing.” You said and he laugh.

Hesitant, he lift one of his hands and slightly caressed your face. His shadows touched your soft skin, moving around your arms, making you feel a tickle.

“You’re my mate, Azriel. And I’m only yours.” You finally said the words and he looked at you with a indecipherable expression. “I’ve always been yours. And you’re right, it’s not too late for us”

“(Y/n)” A groan left his mouth “Since the first time I put my eyes on you, you’ve conquered me in every possible way. I’m yours and you’re mine, and I won’t let anyone get in the middle.”

Azriel moved his hands to your neck and you instantly whimpered in anticipation. His eyes darkened when he heard it, and he finally broke the distance between you two, kissing you deeply. He quickly pushed you to his lap, trying to get you the closer he could, and put his hands into your waist.

“Time to claim what’s mine, love.” Azriel said with a lust in his eyes.

[gorgonwrites]

still loving you, part 1

geto suguru x fem!reader

in which your best friend shoko takes you to the bar your ex-boyfriend is performing at tonight.

wc: 2.3k-ish

author's note: i wrote a geto fic- someone fucking sedate me. i love that man w my whole heart. ps, i swear i will learn how to write a one shot one day. i am nothing if not a slut for the buildup. this is inspired by the song still loving you by the scorpions bc it's a GOOD FUCKIN SONG

tags/ CW: sfw but will be nsfw eventually, fem!reader, second chance romance, modern AU, bassist!geto, reader broke getos heart but we'll make it right don't worry, reader/ shoko/ geto/ gojo are bffs duh, slowburn bc i can't fucking help myself, reader smokes a cigarette or two bc i like the effect SMOKING IS BAD 4 U ok??

“Was it really necessary to bring me along for this? I could be home with my cat right now.” your best friend pulled you to her favorite bar, laughing as you continued to grumble. 

“You never leave your apartment, y/n. Have some fun for once!” Shoko continued to tug you along until you were at the door of The Sorcerer’s Lounge. If you were completely honest you didn’t hate this place- it was more speakeasy than dive bar, and it was one of the more peaceful places Shoko liked to bring you. 

“I do leave my apartment. I work, I go grocery shopping, and I sit and read in the park across town. So there.” You stuck your tongue out at her. She was your opposite but you adored her all the same. While she liked to party and drink herself into oblivion, you liked to stay in and enjoy your own company. You finished your party phase while you were in college- thinking about it made your chest twinge. “You know this isn’t really my thing anymore. I just made an exception tonight because I like it here.” Shoko had mentioned a show happening tonight, and you generally enjoyed the entertainment that the lounge offered. 

“Well you look fucking devastating, y/n, maybe we should make this your thing again?” Shoko was too hopeful, though her effort made you giggle. She took your hand and had you twirl in front of her, making the thigh-high slit of your dress threaten to show just too much. You did miss late nights like this, but it simultaneously felt foreign to you. There was something- someone- missing. You shook the thought away. As you both made your way through the crowd to the bar you saw a familiar head of white hair, and you stopped in your tracks. Shoko still had a firm grasp on your wrist, and your sudden halt nearly had her fall over. 

“Shoko, who’s playing tonight? I didn’t have the time to check.” actually you hadn’t cared to check, but you didn’t think it would’ve been your ex-boyfriend’s band. You looked at her sharply and she grimaced. Please, no. 

“Oh, I ah, I don’t remember!” She smiled sheepishly and tried to laugh the question off. Just as you were about to turn around and march out of the bar, you were engulfed in a tight hug. 

“Y/N! No way! Shoko you didn’t say she was coming too! Fuck dude, it’s been way too long. How are you?” You were smashed into Gojo’s chest, unable to respond. He held you tightly and laughed, a familiar and bright sound that always made you smile in the past. Right now, though, you wanted to hurtle yourself into the sun. Of all the nights you agreed to join Shoko, why did it have to be tonight? You managed to wiggle your way out of Gojo’s grip and huffed in response, trying not to take your agitation out on the man. After a breath, you were able to respond. 

“Gojo, it’s so good to see you.” you smiled gently and you meant it. He looked good. You weren’t sure if it was possible but he seemed even taller than when you’d seen him last, and he still had the same stupid sunglasses that he used to wear. “It’s been five years, I think? I won’t lie, I haven't really had the time to keep track.” A lie. Yes you were busy, but you knew exactly how long it had been since you had seen him and his best friend. The four of you had been inseparable during your college years, a rag-tag quartet against the rest of the world. You did everything together, until suddenly you didn’t. It hurt. It still hurts. 

“Oh, shit, I have to tell Suguru you came!” Gojo spun on his heel and ran across the bar and out of sight.

“Fuck, Gojo, don’t!” you yelled after him and tried to make your way in the same direction, but it was useless. He had a habit of appearing and disappearing, and you knew you wouldn’t find him. You slowly turned to your best friend, your eyes blazing. “Care to explain this shit to me?” Shoko shrank under your gaze but seemed to recover quickly. 

“Gojo reached out to me a few days ago to tell me they’d be in town and to tell me about their gig tonight. I thought it would be nice for the four of us to catch up.” you could hear the pain in her voice. “I thought you were over everything by now, y/n. You never bring Geto up anymore. I don’t even remember the last time you said his name.” you groaned at your ex-boyfriend being mentioned, and pinched the bridge of your nose to keep yourself from saying something stupid. 

“You know I adore you, Shoko.” you breathed, “But why did you think this was a good idea? My breakup with Geto shattered our friend group. I’m not sure if it really will be a nice thing for us to catch up.” though you had been surprised by Gojo’s response to seeing you. “We’ve all gone our separate ways in life. I’m not sure we really need to dwell on the past.” you had built a life for yourself, and you were proud of that fact. Yes, there were lonely nights and moments that you craved a closeness that you’d only ever experienced with Geto. But you made a life nonetheless, and you weren’t willing to mess it up because Shoko wanted to live in the past. “He broke my heart, Shoko. I think a part of me is still recovering.”

“You broke his too, you know.” Shoko said firmly. “If you weren’t so fucking stubborn you would’ve seen that. Leave if you want to. I’m going to support our boys.” Our boys. She stalked off, leaving you breathless. You slumped into a chair at the bar and ordered a shot. If you were going to stay, you needed something to take the edge off. 

. . .

“She’s here with Shoko! I saw! She looks fucking incredible, by the way. Damn, it was good to see her face. There’s something different about her, but she’s still y/n. I can tell.” Gojo continued to ramble on about you, giving Geto a massive fucking headache. He didn’t expect Shoko to make it, and he definitely hadn’t expected to hear that you were with her. His heart leapt in his chest, agitating him even further. 

“Satoru, I swear to god if you don’t shut the fuck up I’m going to wring your neck.” he slumped back onto the sofa in their small changing room and scrubbed his hands over his face. “This has you and Shoko written all over it.” Shoko and Gojo loved plotting together, whether it was going to be messy or not. They just seemed to enjoy the ride. 

“Suguru, come on. You don’t fucking shut up about her. In all the years it's been, I know you’re still crazy about her. And I know you want to see her, so get over yourself. She showed up, whether you like it or not. I don’t think she’d just abandon Shoko because you’re here.” Geto knew you wouldn’t leave her, so he was going to have to suck it up. “We’re on in thirty. Get your shit together.” Geto stared up at the ceiling and tried to remember your face. You never posted on social media, and Shoko rarely had photos of you up anymore. You had basically just disappeared one day, and it made the ache in his chest get worse. 

. . .

“Two espresso martinis, please.” You had taken two shots, and after letting them take effect you were finally ready to face Shoko again. You carefully carried the drinks through the crowd and into the lounge area, carefully searching through the tables and booths to find your best friend. You found her in the front row, stress smoking her cigarettes. “Those’ll kill you, you know.” you smirked, and she angrily looked up at you. 

“Hmph. The stress from how stubborn you are already has me halfway there.” she eyed the drinks in your hand. “Though, a drink might add a few more years back to my lifespan.” You placed your drinks on the table and sat down beside her, wondering when the show would start.

“I really don’t know if I can do this.” you did your best to hide the tremor in your voice but Shoko noticed, like she always did. She pushed your hair behind your ear and smiled. 

“You can, though. We’re just supporting our boys. No harm in that, right?” There really was no harm in it, but it made you nervous all the same. Your breakup with Geto had been entirely underwhelming, at best. You knew you had been growing apart for some time, and your parents never approved of him to begin with. He wanted to travel and make music, free as a bird. You wanted to stay and work in the city, carving out your own little slice of paradise where you were. He wanted you to come with him, you wanted him to stay. It would never, ever work. So you called it quits one day, plain and simple. He didn’t put up a fight though, and it had solidified your suspicions of him getting bored with you. You left and had tried your best not to look back after that. 

“Earth to y/n, can you hear me?” Shoko waved her hand in your face. “I said they’ll be on soon. Are you even listening to me?” you had to give yourself a shake to snap out of it. This was about to be a long fucking night if you couldn’t get a grip. 

“Give me one of those.” you snatched the pack of cigarettes from Shoko and lit one, taking a long drag before you exhaled in her face. You continued to take long drags until you finished and grabbed another.

“What the fuck happened to these will kill you?” Shoko snatched the pack out of your hands and stuffed it into her purse out of reach.

“The stress from how stubborn I am already has me halfway there.” you parroted back to her and lit the second one, winking. “It’s fine, I won’t have another. I have some semblance of self control, unlike someone I know.” Shoko rolled her eyes and grumbled, but immediately perked up when the lights began to dim. You had the opposite reaction, tensing up and shrinking into your seat as you smoked. Your best friend noticed though, as always, and looped her arm through yours.

“We’re just supporting them, like I said a little while ago. No harm, no foul. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.” She gave you a reassuring smile, and you couldn’t help but lean into her touch. Shoko had been your rock through the breakup, and continued to support you even now. You could feel how excited she was, and admittedly her excitement was always contagious. You relaxed and watched as everyone came out on stage. 

Gojo of course came out first, that damn show pony. His boisterous attitude and loud mouth always annoyed you, and he always did the most to get the attention he wanted. You love him half to death though, and he knows it. He got all of you into trouble so many times you had lost count. A blonde with glasses came out next, a new addition to the band it seemed. You had never seen him before. A short man with cropped black hair and a huge grin came out next, and you recognized him from school though you couldn’t remember his name. Haibara? Something like that. That left Geto for last, as usual. 

You had forgotten just how beautiful he was. He walked out with a small smile on his face and waved to the crowd, and you couldn’t help the annoyance bubbling in your chest as the screaming got louder when he took his spot onstage. He had more tattoos than you remembered, and his hair was much longer. He wasn’t wearing it up in a bun, which felt unusual to you. Instead his black hair cascaded down his back and over his shoulders, framing his face. Was his bottom lip pierced now? He was too far away for you to be sure. You studied him carefully, drinking in the image in front of you. While everyone else got settled you watched as he began to scan the crowd for someone. You took another drag from your cigarette, wondering who he was so intent on finding. His eyes continued to wander until they found you. You locked eyes with him and tried not to choke as you exhaled, and leaned farther into Shoko’s embrace. He looked as shocked as you felt- your heart was about to jump up and out of your fucking throat. You could barely see the corners of his mouth turn up, and he raised his eyebrows before he finally looked away. You knew that stupid look. That was the ‘and what do we have here?’ look he always had on when he relentlessly teased you. The look was enough to make you scowl and huff, and you crossed your arms over your chest. Geto spared you another glance, and seeing you in such a state made him break out in a ridiculous grin before he laughed to himself. He loved teasing you. 

“He seems really happy to see you.” Shoko whispered in your ear. She huddled close to you, letting you lean into her as much as you needed.

“Yeah, well, no one said I was happy to see him.” your best friend let out a huff, letting you know you weren’t fooling her. You were hardly fooling yourself. Truthfully, seeing him after all this time made you feel like you were floating. You could only remember his face glassed over and uninterested, so seeing him happy made your heart leap. He loved being on stage and performing, and you loved watching him do it. The show began and, as always, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

[diaryujin]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄

summary: you’ve gone missing, and your best friend chan has no other method of communication other than sending you voice notes.

genre: angst

includes: university au, minho is a thirdwheel/another best friend of you both, overdosing, attempted suicide, coma-ish situation, chan is a S-I-M-P, mentions of you both being drunk, mentions of weightloss and getting paler, chan is a majoring in music here, NOT proofread, lmk if i missed anything else

pairing: non idol! uni student! chan x uni student! fem! reader

a/n: i did this low effort thing bc i haven’t had the energy for anything else pls don’t let it flop i made a comeback i’m out of my blackpink era (/j blinks don’t come after me) (should I make a sequel) song lyrics: lost by (g)i-dle (english translation)

word count: 1K including song lyrics

taglist: @kflixnet

“Hey Y/N. You weren’t at university or your dorm today. Is everything okay? I know you’ve been stressing about…well, a lot, really-” sigh “yeah, so basically, I’m worried about you.” nervous laughter “Cause like, your roommate, Tzuyu told me you were in your room at night, but then you weren’t there when I came to pick you up. I hope you hear this. Take care.”

❝𝙄𝙛 𝙄 𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨❞

“Y/N, it’s been three days. Everyone’s worried, especially me. I know you’ve talked about running away before, but…well, I didn’t think you were serious.” silence ”I hope you’re coming back soon, you know. Uni feels different and more empty without you. Take care.”

❝𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙄 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪?❞

“A week. I’ve been a bit busy, but I haven’t forgotten you at all. Where are you? I think the police are still searching. They better be, you’re too precious to me to lose.” deep breath “Come back, Y/N. Come back. Everyone’s asking me where you are, and I don’t know and they keep reminding me that you’re gone and everything is haunting me and-” sigh “I’m rambling again. Take care.”

❝𝘿𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙙𝙤?❞

“Two weeks. You haven’t even seen my messages, let alone these voice notes, but they’re still delivered. Please, Y/N, this isn’t funny anymore- ignore the voice crack. No, I’m not crying. Like- I do care- um- about you…but I’m not crying. I miss you the most. I don’t have a study buddy now ever since you well…disappeared. Kinda falling behind on classes, but it’s fine. I’ll catch up.” weak giggle “Take care.”

❝𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝙗𝙮❞

“One month. Since you’re never going to hear these voice recordings, I might as well just say gibberish or odd confessions, hm?” weak laugh “They’ve given up. Your parents, the police…everyone, really. But I haven’t. I know you’re there – somewhere. I’ve been producing more songs to cope. You know how much I love doing that, I mean- it’s why I chose music as my major. Take care.”

❝𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙, 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙩❞

“Two months. You know, today I passed by a wishing well. I threw a coin, and guess what I wished for? I wished you back, Y/N. Come back, please. I’m not requesting you at this point, I’m begging. Everything’s become worse without you, or at least that’s what Minho says. He’s a bit wild, so I’m not believing him. Where are you, mm? I’ll come there, and I’ll meet you – even rescue you if necessary!” faint hmph “I miss you. I miss you loads. Take care.”

❝𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩❞

“Five months. Since you don’t seem to have heard any of these, I guess I can really just say shit, huh? Well then, I love you. Like- you know- romantically.” nervous laugh “Yeah, cliche. Dumb move. Fuck, fuck, shouldn’t have done that- but it’s out and true- I guess. Ever since last year when we…ah, leave it. Take care.”

❝𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

“Eight months. I love you. I love you. I love you, Y/N. Please, I need you back. Everything’s so dark without you. You know that you’re my driving force, right? Right? I need you here desperately.” sniffle “Y/N. Y/N. Please. I don’t- I don’t know how I can do this anymore.” whimper “I can’t- can’t lose you. Take care.”

❝𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

“Ten months. Everything hurts. I don’t have the motivation to wake up in the morning, Y/N. Minho says that I’ve become thinner and paler. Other people are saying watered down versions of that. It all reminds me of you. I’m so tired, I don’t know why they suddenly care. Eh, whatever.” dull groan “Shit, I’m ranting again. Ignore it. Take care.”

❝𝙒𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚❞

shaky breath “ Y/N, Y/N, please at least see my messages.” pained whimper “I can’t. I can’t. I need- need you. Badly. Fuck- I can’t bre-breathe.” rattling of pills in a bottle “I don’t want to live anymore. There’s no po-point.” quiet sob “You-You are my muse fo-for whatever I man…manage to…get out of my studio. I love you, I’ve loved you ever-ever since the day we drun-drunk made out.” sad giggle “Yeah, sounds cra-crazy, no?” swallowing sound, gulp “You’re coming back, right? Promise? You are, you are. I’m sure of it.” cursing under breath “Fuck, Minho’s here. Take care.”

❝𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

“Can’t move on from you. I love you too much. I love you, Y/N, and I wish I had the guts to have said it to your face when you were with me. Will you miss me? Maybe you won’t. It’s been a year after all. You’ve probably forgotten about me, about what we had, and frankly speaking? I don’t blame you.” silence “You’re still alive there though, I’m sure of it. Eat well, sleep soundly, drink water, do whatever makes you happy, even if others discourage you, and even if it’s the police, and remember to love yourself as much as I do. I love you from the sun to Pluto and back, note that.” dry laugh “I’ll always have you engraved in my memory. You’ll forever be my first and last thought. Take care.”

❝𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪❞

“Hi Y/N. It’s me, Minho. I know I didn’t talk to you as much as Chan did-” annoyed sigh “I mean, he’s your bestie westie pookie wookie and all that shit, but like- I miss you too. There’s rumors about you being spotted around and you know that I don’t believe in a lot of gossip that goes throught the university grapevine – although I do love listening to it –” slight chuckle “I really want this rumor to be proven true. Make it happen, perform a miracle or something. You always disproved me in arguments, do it again.” silence “Chan, he…he’s in the hospital.” slightly muffled sob “I caught him overdosing on pills, which is what he was doing when he…when he sent you the tenth voice note. A month after that, he tried to kill himself, hence the eleventh one. That was like- three days ago. He’s still…still unconscious, but he’ll wake up soon, I hope. Come back Y/N. We all miss you, and Chan needs you. In his words, take care.”

❝𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠, 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚❞

[spidrstar]

HE AINT SHIT pt 2.

★ pairings: aged up e!42 miles!morales × latina! reader

★ slowburn? characters are 18+ in this story they're in their mid twenties.

★ warnings: as i write this story some parts will be slightly suggestive, if that bothers u dni..

★ a/n: now THIS, this one i put a lot of effort into ☠️ 3k words long.. btw i already had most of chap 2 written out so i will not be putting this series on hold but i won’t be having a schedule bc i know i wont follow it. Again sorry for the hold up y’all my motivation went poof ily and lmk what y’all think abt this chap. sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger 😊

★ p.s i'll be adding a link to a playlist i made that you could listen to when reading abt miles Imk what y'all think.

★ summary: You end up going to your ‘apology date’ and things go south. You wanted to spend your time eating snacks when angry but ran out, so you left and went straight to the market then you met someone unexpected.

★ previous, part 3

mwah

“…almost fell in love with you

After the club last night.”

- lovely : sonder

With groggy eyes, you found yourself zoning out, you had woken up 20 minutes ago because you were hungry. You had the worst headache ever, and all the memories from last night flooding into your head wasn’t helping either.

‘I don’t know what I was thinking, giving him my phone. Whatever, I just won’t text him.’

You stretched and yawned once again shutting off the music you fell asleep to, getting up standing in front of your mirror you noticed you had the same clothes on from last night. The sight of yourself made you sigh in exhaustion, you looked like a disaster and didn’t have energy to get all pretty today.

You lifted your dress off of yourself and sat back down on your bed in the set you had bought specially for your date that failed last night. The thought, only making you wince with closed eyes, you remembered yourself falling into bed as soon as you got home crying yourself to sleep with music playing to help. You sighed and went on your phone, you realized you never answered Kole and you wanted to keep it that way ‘til later.

You weren’t in the mood to deal with him especially after what he pulled last night. Honestly, you didn’t really care if you both went the whole day without talking to each other. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t losing feelings for him, sure you’d been together for 6 months and duh you loved him he’s your boyfriend.. you just.. weren’t sure you loved him as much as you did before. Kole rarely did anything special, he stopped giving you sweet things ‘just because’ he didn’t compliment you as if he was still trying to get with you.

None of that.

He acted as if his goal was to just get with you, not keep you happy, not love you, not make you feel special, just get with you. You started noticing it on your 3rd month anniversary. All he did was buy you flowers, no date no nothing. Only reason you hadn’t left him is because you just felt as if you couldn’t. He had been there for you during all your darkest moments, you felt like you needed him in your life. You felt glued to him and if you were to unstick even just a little bit, he made sure he stuck you back to him.

Scrolling through your other notifications you find nothing interesting and upon turning it off, that’s when an incoming call pops up on your screen. You mentally sighed preparing yourself for the incoming argument awaiting to happen.

It was Kole.

It was 2:34 pm and he wanted to call you now? Scoffing before picking up the call, you already felt yourself getting angry.

“Qué quieres ahora, Kole.” 5 seconds of silence seemed to be enough for him before he finally spoke up.

“Listen, baby, I know I fucked up by not showing up yesterday but I had things going on and—“

You didn’t even let him finish before you snapped, this made you laugh. “I don’t even wanna hear it, Kole. All I'm getting from this is that anything is more important to you than our relationship.” You closed your eyes and laid your face into the palm your hand waiting to hear what excuse he had for you this time.

“Nonono, baby listen I promise it’s nothing like that I was just chillin’ with the guys while I was waiting for you to get off work and I fell asleep watching a game and—“

“Don’t- No puedo mas, don’t even finish. Kole, I'm fed up.” here we go, you had to stand up for what you were about to say already feeling yourself tense up at the anger you were feeling.

“You know, I made sure I asked for a day off tomorrow thinking we were gonna have the best night of our lives like you had promised. Do you know how much effort I put into getting ready yesterday? You never think about anything but yourself. I made sure to buy new clothes just for you, and here you are telling me you were too busy watching games with your friends while I spent more than 2 hours preparing for our date? Are you fucking serious right now?”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying and the silence on the other line was more than enough confirmation for you to continue speaking, you let out a short laugh, tears already forming from the anger you felt. “This just goes to show how little I mean to you. I cried, Kole. I cried over and over again last night because of you.”

Kole knew he had hurt you, never in your whole 6 months of dating him had you gotten so frustrated to the point where your voice started shaking. He knew he messed up, and bad. The silence on the other line only hurt you more, your response only being a couple of sniffles.

You heard him sigh preparing to speak, “Listen baby, I know I messed up. I truly wish I could show you how sorry I am. I never meant to make you feel this way and you know I would never do this to you on purpose, I—I’ve just honestly been so stressed and wanted to let loose with the guys. We drank a bit and I got sleepy, and I know—I know that is not a good enough excuse to not show up. And I could've at least left you a text. I know that. I just—..I swear this time I'll make it up to you, Y/n.”

You frowned and sighed. As much as you really wanted to forgive him and just ‘go back to normal’ you’ve been letting this slide too many times. You knew all the times he had given you a speech almost exactly the same as this one, he was bullshitting you. You remember it clear as day, when you found multiple dating apps downloaded on his phone he gave you the most shitiest apology. He never really meant it; he just wanted to make sure you were stuck and didn’t leave him.

“I don’t know, Kole. I really don’t know what to think of this anymore—“

“Y/n, please. I know I messed up, just give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You sat there really considering it, and you came to a conclusion that if he really messed it up this time then that would be the end of this relationship. “Alright Kole, fine. Pero te lo juro if you mess this up we’re done.”

“Thank you, thank you. I love you so much baby and I promise I won't mess up. Meet me at our favorite coffee shop at 4.” and with that he hung up.

You had lost almost all your faith in your relationship, so you figured today you weren’t going to put in much effort since you just wanted to enjoy your day off in bed. You stood up from your bed again and grabbed your towel heading to your shower.

It was 3:17 pm and you had only just started putting on clean undergarments, you knew by the time you left you would be there late but at this point that was the least of your worries. You sat in front of your vanity doing your skincare routine when you noticed a dark spot on your neck, wondering what it was you looked closely.

A hickey.

You gasped grabbing your makeup sponge and some foundation trying to conceal it so your boyfriend doesn’t think of anything. But to no avail, you failed. It was still pretty visible. This is the moment when you really started panicking, you got up from your desk rummaging through your drawers searching for a turtle neck and when you found one you sighed in relief. You thought for a second letting your heart beat slow down.

‘Miles, ese estupido.’

You put the turtle neck on along with some sweatpants, slipped on your uggs and fixed up your hair only slightly since you had slept with a bonnet on. It had just hit 3:34 pm and you still weren’t ready, a few pumps of your bath and body works perfume and you got straight to your makeup. Sure you weren’t going to put in much effort, but you still wanted to wear just a bit of mascara.

You got up from your desk, grabbed your keys and let Kole know that you were on your way.

As you made your way out the building it hit 3:56 pm, still no text back from Kole. You weren’t surprised to say the least. To pass some time you decided to walk, and since the coffee shop wasn’t far. You also didn’t want to lose your parking. You slipped on your earbuds listening to some music on your way there.

Self Love; Metro Boomin & Coi Leray.

“came to the city for the love

got her hurtin’ now”

By the time you got to the coffee shop it was 4:08 pm, Kole hadn’t texted you back nor was he inside. You stepped in the shop and got in line wanting to order a snack so you wouldn’t starve while waiting. You chose your favorite, a glazed donut with some hot chocolate. You decided to pick a warm snack since it had gotten a bit windy outside.

You got your order and sat at your usual spot in the corner, taking a bite out of your donut. You decided to go on instagram to cure your boredom. You opened the app and clicked on the explore page button, you watched a few reels and quickly got bored again, swiping to the right again trying to find something interesting you stumbled across a post with more than 4k likes. You hummed in amusement scrolling through the pictures.

Pressing onto their page you realized who it was, Miles. Intrigued you stalked his page, all his posts having more than 2k likes. You observed them closely, and you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t insanely attractive. You paused annoyingly remembering that you were still in a relationship and that you were mad at him for leaving a hickey on you. You glanced at the time again and it was 4:23 pm. You sighed, and got a notification from your weather app stating that there was going to be a crazy rain storm happening in about an hour.

‘Seriously? The one day I decided not to wear a sweater.’

As if on cue kole barged into the coffee shop in a hurry to see you.

You looked up at him with a dull look on your face, “Hi baby, I'm sorry there was traffic and I forgot my keys inside—“ Interrupting him you loudly sipped on your hot chocolate, signaling him to shut up with his excuses already. He sighed in defeat and sat down, “Well it doesn’t matter, you’re here now aren’t you?”

You flashed him a fake smile and you placed your cup down on the table and cleared your throat not sure what to talk about, “Sooo.. you gonna order anything or?”

“Oh, right. Do you want anything, love?” Slightly cringing at the nickname he gave you, “Yea another glazed donut would be nice.” And with that he headed towards the cash register ready to order, you took this as a chance to hop back onto your phone and look through Miles’ instagram posts.

You thought for a second, and pressed onto the ‘follow’ button. Disregarding the fact that you were still with Kole you exited out of the app.

‘Oh well, he follows many girls anyway and it’s not like we’re going to see each other again, especially after what he did.’

Kole came back with your glazed donut, he sat down and tried his best to make interesting conversation and most of the time you gave dry responses because he was just so.. how do you put it?——Boring. Usually it wasn’t this hard to catch your attention and have you entertained, but you genuinely wanted to leave.

“So yea, the game yesterday was awesome and oh! Max almost threw up because he ate 3 full boxes of pizza, can you believe that?! It’s crazy.”

You stared off across the cafe, so clearly uninterested and done with Kole. “Out of all the things to talk about, you chose to talk about what you were doing while I was waiting for you at the restaurant.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh cmon, don’t do that. The whole point of today was for me to make it up to you and you’re making it difficult.” He pouted, and this only had you feeling even angrier.

“Yeah well, it’s hard not to when you’ve done this four times already.”

He sighed and as he was about to speak that’s when both of your phones vibrated against the wooden table, you turned your attention to his screen first.

Incoming call from Madison.

“I-I gotta go babe. I promised my friend I would help her move into her new place. ” He then placed a kiss on your cheek quickly and rushed out. You sat there in disbelief as to what had just happened.

‘So not only did he show up late to his little apology date, he also ditched me for some other girl.’

You scoffed and stood up from your seat angrily deciding you were finally going to break up with him. You stared at the screen of your phone acknowledging what your notification was, Miles had followed you back. You ignored it, not thinking anything of it.

You angrily walked down the street and headed to the supermarket before going home to distract yourself, you needed to get some stuff for the house anyway.

Only two blocks away from the supermarket you started feeling a few small rain drops on your cheeks.

‘Great, now I'm gonna be soaking wet. Could this day genuinely get any worse?’

You quickly rushed into the supermarket a bit damp and grabbed a shopping basket to your left.

You head towards the snack aisle remembering you had finished your last tub of ice cream last Friday. You scanned through the aisle looking for more options and as you were slowly walking sideways squinting your eyes you bumped into someone.

“Oh- I’m so sorry i wasn’t watching where i was goin-“

Before you finished you managed to turn around and see who the person was, as if the smell of his husky cologne wasn’t an obvious giveaway.

It was Miles.

“We meet again, hermosa.” He grinned at you in amusement, eyeing you down and of course, he still looked as beautiful as when you first saw him, nothing new. You rolled your eyes mentally and just stared at him wanting to take the ‘sorry’ right back.

“Never mind, excuse me.” You tried to walk right past him trying not to acknowledge his existence. “Wow really? It’s like that now?” He asked with hurt in his voice sarcastically, you shut your eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Dealing with Miles was the last thing you needed right now, especially after your little fiasco with Kole.

“Miles. Quítate del miedo o te quito yo.”

You spoke seriously without making eye contact, this only made him feel like teasing you more. The way you spoke to him in Spanish angrily made him smirk. “Cmon amor, what’s with the attitude? You weren’t like this last night.”

His snarky remark only irked you more, which finally caused you to look up at him. “Yeah well, this is what happens when you think it’s funny to leave hickies on me knowing I have a boyfriend.” You snapped at him and he chuckled lightly lifting your chin up to look at you directly. “You enjoyed it, what's the problem mami? You followed me on instagram too, so I know you were thinking about me, why the sudden change?” He smirked.

His voice so close to you sent shivers down your spine, you felt your body react to his touch and his voice so you quickly swatted his hand away, you clutched your shopping basket and moved past him. “Whatever, and that was a mistake, I'm unfollowing you later.”

He smirked as you walked away, you could feel his gaze on your back and you felt vulnerable, like he was a predator and you, his prey. You reached the cash register with him still following behind, you decided to speak up to try and get him to back off. “Will you quit following me everywhere?” You turned to face him, annoyance written all over your face.

“I’m tryna pay ma, not doin’ it on purpose.” He grinned at your reaction and you just wanted to oh so badly smack that beautiful grin off of his face. “Yeah? Well you could’ve chosen any other cash register, whys the one i went to your choice.” The cashier finished ringing you up and your total came to $23.47, you rummaged through your wallet and paid $20 you soon realized you didn’t have enough and mentally cursed at yourself for being so reckless.

You remember thinking before you left the house that it was best to not take much money since you were only going to the coffee shop, that decision only came back to bite on your ass. You cleared your throat nervously not knowing how to explain.

“I’m sorry.. I uh- I’m missing $4.” You laughed nervously trying to rummage through your wallet once more seeing if you could find at least three or two dollars. Miles noticed this while being behind you. You soon see out of your peripheral vision that he slid $5 to the cashier, you turned to look at him with a look that said. ‘You’re annoying, but thanks i guess.’

You placed all of your items in a bag and walked to the exit hoping Miles would stay behind, but of course since your day already sucked why not make it suck even more? He was right behind you. Pretty soon, that was the least of your concerns once you noticed that it was pouring outside. You groaned in distress palming your face and made terms with the fact that you had to walk in the rain.

You were about to step out until Miles caught on and stopped you. “Woah woah, what are you doing?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow. You looked at him as if he was wearing a red clown nose and a wig in confusement.

“Uh.. trying to walk home? What does it look like.” He matched your energy and came right back at you with a smart tone. “To me, it looks like you’re just tryna catch a cold.” You mocked him and soon noticed he was taking off his jacket while speaking. You had a confused look on your face when he placed it over you.

“What are you doing?”

“What? You think I’m bouta let you walk out ina rain like that?” He responded with a raised brow.

“Like what?”

“..Nothing.”

You ignored him and looked straight ahead, jogging out the market doors bag of snacks in hand. You groaned slightly looking up at the sky in annoyance because if even possible, the rain seemed to pour down harder. You noticed Miles was still behind you and turned to stare at him, eyeing him weirdly you then noticed how good he looked even when dripping wet in the rain. His black tee soaking wet, braids fucked up he stared at you through wet eyelashes.

“Miles, why are you still following me? I'm literally going home. Ya vete y déjame en paz, dios mío.”

“Look, I'm sorry, okay? I get it you’re mad but just let me at least walk you home. You don’t even gotta go on that date with me either, I’ll leave you completely alone afterwards. Promise. ”

You both stood in the rain staring at each other for a second before you felt sympathy for him, you felt bad for the way you came at him. Yeah, he left marks even when he knew you had a boyfriend but it’s not like you didn’t think he was cheating either. You enjoyed it anyway.. So why not cut him some slack? You turned around and continued walking but before you did, you slightly turned your head to the side to speak to him.

“Fine, but I'm not completely declining your ‘date’ offer. If you respect my relationship then maybe I’ll let you take me out. Not on a date, more like us hanging out as friends.”

You felt bad turning him down completely when you had already agreed to meeting with him, so you gave him a chance bonus points for the sad look in his eyes causing you to give into him. Besides, being just friends won’t do any harm to your relationship.. right?

He smiled following right behind you as you both turned a few more blocks, finally reaching your house. You went up the stairs and stood under the roof of the apartment to avoid the water. You stared down at him shivering in his jacket.

“Soo.. where you going now?” You asked curiously trying to fight back the way your teeth hit each other from the way you shivered.

“Probably gonna walk home, don’t live too far.” He shrugged.

You looked at him in disbelief, walking out this late in the rain with how windy it was would probably be enough to give him the flu. You sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a second before staring at him.

“Miles, come on.”

“What?”

“You’re coming in with me.”

He stared at you wide eyed not expecting you to invite him in, after all that begging for him to stay away from you; inviting him inside your home was the least thing he thought would happen but of course he didn’t have a problem with it. All he did was smirk at you and raise his brows as if to say, ‘you bein’ for real right now?’

“You paid for my snacks, lent me your jacket in the rain and walked me home. It’s the least I could do, besides you’ll get really sick if you stay out any longer soaking wet.”

You walked in making your way to the elevator which only left him smiling, standing behind you at the way you were concerned for his health.

You paused then spoke up again, “So? ¿Vas a venir o que?”

He then walked up the stairs to follow behind you into the apartment muttering a low ‘well if you’re offering, might as well.’

Soon, you were left to contemplate if this was a mistake or not.

Because little did you know, this was gonna be a very long night.

★ translations: Que quieres ahora - what do you want now || no puedo más - I can’t anymore || pero te lo juro - but i swear || ese estupido - that idiot || hermosa - beautiful || quítate del medio o te quito yo - get out of the way or I’ll make you get out of the way myself || Amor - love || ya vete y déjame en paz, dios mío - go away and leave me alone, my god || vas a venir o que - are you coming or what

TAGS:

[thefactsofthematter]

delanceys. what is their psychology. why are they the way they are. why do they wanna punch down on those barely a peg below them on the class ladder. why do they hate jack specifically. go go go -@jack-kellys

ty @jack-kellys for enabling me!! i’ll lay down some backstory thoughts here, and i got another ask where i’ll get into my thoughts abt their personalities n stuff!!

okay here we go:

- so. they’re the only people jack knows who spent longer in the refuge than he did. they were already in there the first time he got put in, and didn’t get out until after his second stint there, when wiesel finally came to get them (claiming to be their long-lost uncle, when he really asked snyder if he could take a couple kids to put to work at the newspaper, and was given 14 year old oscar and 12 year old morris just to get them out of the way).

- spending a good chunk of their formative years in jail severely fucked up their worldview and ways of thinking. their dad dropped them off himself, not wanting anything to do with them after their mom died, and they’ve only had each other ever since.

- they spent over 3 years in there, surviving by keeping to themselves and never starting fights, only finishing them. they watched jack constantly mouth off at the guards and go kicking and screaming whenever he got dragged out of the room for some kind of punishment - and they resented him for it, bc the guards would often be much more aggressive and mean after incidents like that. jack kelly came into the refuge, made things worse for everyone, and then found some clever way to sneak out… TWICE. it was infuriating.

- so they finally got out, and started their new job at the world, only to find out that jack fucking kelly was a newsie now, and a popular one at that. he had the same smart mouth that got him in trouble in the refuge, but all it did out here was make the other kids laugh - and he often put it to use against oscar and morris, with cutting comments and mean jokes that felt unwarranted at first, pushing them to really start bullying jack and the newsies in return.

- their job at the newspaper is miserable, but there’s no escaping it - they spend long days counting and bundling papers, and then they have to stand there and hand them out to the newsies, who just seem like they have so much fun. those kids live with their friends in the lodging house, and they roam the streets all day, and they’re always laughing and joking… while oscar and morris share a tiny bedroom at wiesel’s place, and don’t often get to be around anyone other than each other. they’re paid only in room and board - if they were to try to run away and leave the job, they’d be homeless and penniless, with both wiesel and snyder out to chase them down.

- a detail i’m gonna elaborate on eventually is that i think oscar, as the older brother, is much angrier than morris is. his entire life has been about keeping morris safe… something he’s largely failed at. no matter what he does, he’s forced to see his brother scared and hurt and exhausted and beaten-down, practically all the time. morris, while just as big and strong as his brother, is scared of wiesel, scared of snyder, sometimes even scared of oscar’s bad moods and temper, meaning all of oscar’s efforts to protect him typically backfire and make things worse.

- so they’re angry. they punch down because that’s all that’s ever been done to them. they don’t care about anyone other than each other, and they resent jack and the newsies for a life that looks better than their own isolated one, despite knowing that it’s just as hard out there for them. the older they get, the more people they start to take their rage out on - like beating up on trolley strikers, which is the only type of extra work wiesel allows them to pick up in the evenings, or doing snyder’s dirty work and dragging kids to the refuge as some kind of revenge for everything they’ve gone through.

- they suck, right? but in their situation, who wouldn’t? it’s hard to feel bad for them, given how cruel they are in canon, but it’s definitely interesting to take a look at where they might’ve come from. these poor fellas just never managed to catch a break, and it ruined them :(

[mcl38]

I think the disproportion in show of affection from lando and carlos comes from the age difference, lando is young, and soaks up attention so he’s being pass around between djs, streamers and close knit friends and just has so many ppls around that for him it’s (just may be) like whtvr, yeah carlos is my friend like many other friends I have.

Carlos being more mature now and centered, more low key, seems to cherish and take care of the ppl he considers close to him, respect is a really big thing to him and so if he respects you, you automatically have a place in his life and would get out of his way (as much as he can) to help I somehow.

Also in the interview he does say that he saw the mercs getting closer and that if they passed lando who has similar tire wear to him, they would def pass him so he decided to help lando and in doing so help himself. I’m not saying that the one behind him being lando didn’t absolutely contribute but he’s also not that consumed by emotion.

oh yea sorry if it sounded if i implied carlos's emotionality clouds his judgement in the car - hes one of the drivers where ive genuinely never seen that happen (and we've all witnessed it with others). its just that i do actually rly like to hear drivers admitting that the way they think inside the car is slightly different to the macho tough utra-rational mentalities a driver is usually expected to present. carlos saying he does treat lando and fernando slightly more gently, lewis in 2018(?) saying he engages w max more carefully during wheel-to-wheels, lando often explicitly mentioning how scared he is in certain situations or at certain tracks (singapore and monaco specifically), etc. i find it refreshing, relatable, and like also very true in a delightful way

aside from that - i did see that interview, and im aware 99% of carlos's strategy was dictated by the circumstances that happened to b behind him, and i do believe he wouldve done that with whoever else wouldve been in p2 if lando wasnt there. that said, i do ALSO believe he thinks its nicer or more special bc lando was the one in p2. thats what i was trying to say

and yea i deffo think carlos and lando treat friendships differently - maybe its stages in life, or personalities, or a combination of the two. carlos has always been big into respect, & i rly think he respects lando a whole bunch, and thats deffo never left him. meanwhile lando - "he’s being pass around between djs, streamers and close knit friends" is v funny and also quite true. i think after the pandemic left him like, quite lonely, and maybe in a bit of a panic abt how lonely he was, he made an effort to solidify an old and trusted group of friends around him, which he's basically now settled into. and now he's in a phase where he's kind of exploring his boundaries beyond that, going on vacations w martin garrix n his friends or whatever. also like, lando is very gen z in ways carlos clearly isnt, and that means a lot of his socialising is done online (to the point where when he was living w max they sometimes texted more than actually talking to each other). so that inherently means that sometimes the friends who have access to landos time and energy arent those he chooses to prioritise, but like those who happen to be online on discord - whether that be angryginge or filly or matt gallagher or bankai or whoever, ykwim (and max) (usually max lmao). which means carlos will naturally have a disconnect w lando in that area

but yea i get what u mean for sure. its also like, 2019-2020, carlos and lando's interactions were not only v much facilitated by them being teammates, but also in huge part filmed or televised, which means that we had so much more of a grasp on what they were like w each other. now its genuinely just guesswork, ykwim

[mieohmy]

i wanna be okay. | lee jeno

PAIRING: bodyguard!jeno x fem reader

GENRE: strangers-to-lovers, e2ls, SLOW BURN, celebrity! au, rich kid! au, romance, fluff, angst, humor

WORD COUNT: 18.1k

NOTES: profanity, alcohol consumption, lots of arguing lol, somewhat heavy violence, blood, hospitals, injuries and im not a doctor so pls don’t come for me, flirting that kinda makes me wanna p*ke, slightly suggestive scenes, kissing

SUMMARY: the one where your rich CEO dad hires you a mysterious bodyguard to stay by your side 24/7. on the contrary, as much as jeno tries to stay away from you- it’s just utterly impossible.

authors note: wow. it’s finally done. akbskdjdks after so many months of hard work, i’ve finally finished and any feedback would be greatly appreciated <33 anyways, so much work and effort has been put into this, so i really hope anyone reading/waiting for this enjoys! thank you all- jae (also yes this is set near christmas time bc i was writing then and just only finished now :))

edit: epilogue here!

TAGLIST: @mrkcore @moonbeamsung @neonvision @sunzwoo @neocuddlytechnology @itsveronicaxxx @keemburley @rynshyuckies @neochaeryeong @terjeno @lighthyucks @blank-velvet @kaexloey @aedreamzy @kodasity @dnckfwk

The split second the door is opened for you to exit, the flashes start attacking you with bright and harsh lights, fighting alongside with strong and sturdy hands helping you out of the car. You won’t lie, it put you off a little. You were used to the cameras all your life, but especially today it seemed like the loud, intruding voices and crowded bodies actually made a dent in your hardened shell.

Nonetheless, the party was a success. The articles and pictures of you online were newsworthy (as per usual) even when the process of getting them was quite in contrast to what was actually put out to the public.

‘CEO of Meija Tech’s Daughter, y/n y/l/n, Makes Striking Appearance for the Opening…’

You sigh, scrolling past the articles and comments- the majority were commenting on the harsh conditions of the paparazzi at your entrance.

Ha, can’t they leave her alone for once?

They follow her everywhere… can’t they just let her walk where she wants?

I feel bad… she can’t even walk out of a car before getting mobbed…

Tch. The biggest company in the country can’t even afford bodyguards for the daughter of the CEO?

Enough. You turn your phone off with a sense of finality. You knew this was going to happen. As the years passed and your exposure to the outside public grew, it was inevitable that your life would be invaded by parasites that feed off you and your every move. You’re the host. And they’ll take anything.

The incoming sound of heels clicking against the hard marbled floor catches your attention. You glance up. Your father’s secretary stands with her hands on her hips. “Yes?” you question innocently.

“Your father wishes-“

You get up from your spot in the workers' lounge (as if you belonged there), not caring to hear the rest of her words. “Yeah, I got it.”

Now, the sounds of your heels clicking fill the hallways, people murmuring as you walk past with that air of superiority and your head held high. In reality, it was just the habit formed by countless lessons your father forced you to take beginning at the mere age of six. Not to forget the fact that you didn’t care to hear the people working under your father talk shit about you and the people you cared about.

Exiting the elevator, you’re surprised to see that there’s no one in your father’s office- besides himself, of course. You clasp your hands together.

“Father.” He tilts his head slightly in acknowledgment.

“Is there a reason you called me to your office at this time?” Your father clears his throat, and you know he’s being serious. Then again, when was he not?

“I’m sure you’ve seen the news articles.” Ah. That’s what it is.

He continues, “and I’ve been thinking for some time now…”

Your hands clasp tighter.

“Perhaps we should hire you a bodyguard. A strong and reliable one to stay by your side at all times to keep you safe.”

It sinks in, and you bristle. “Father!”

He shakes his head. “This is imperative now. Especially as your popularity continues to grow and it exposes you more and more to the outside world.”

“But I don’t want one?” you frown. “I think I’m perfectly fine. I feel content with how it is now.”

He sighs. “Your safety, my daughter.”

You cross your arms. “Yes, that’s true, but I really don’t believe I need to-“ He holds a hand up, and you fall silent. This is a one-sided argument.

“That’s all. You can leave now.”

You end up trudging out of his office towards the elevator with no destination in mind. Your mind flashes back. Is it really that bad to have a bodyguard? Why are you so hesitant about getting one?

You don’t actually know. Maybe it’s because you were scared. That’s all. Scared to acknowledge that you were already at that level of fame. It was really scary to face that fact. You, y/n, were at risk enough that you needed a bodyguard to protect you from things you didn’t want to happen. Things you really would want to imagine to either.

But who actually knows, right?

Four. That’s when you lost your mother and instead got raised by family caretakers while your father was busy running just one of the largest franchises in the world. Obviously, you didn’t have a family. Or friends. Or anyone, for that matter.

You suppose you should thank your father for the boarding school he sent you to at age thirteen. Most people would probably object and detest going with all their being, but you saw it as a chance to explore. Explore life past the strict rules, regulated behaviors, constant empty house, and everything that surrounded you.

And people you did meet. Mainly other rich (snotty) kids and teachers, it was a prestigious boarding school after all, but some of them you actually clicked with. And stayed with to this day.

“Minjeong!” You call out happily, running to meet your friend. It’s been almost a month since you last saw her, work being the main priority and barrier between the both of you.

She gives you a small hug, a smirk on her face. “Hey, daughter of CEO y/l/n, whose face is all over the news still.” You roll your eyes.

“Don’t remind me. I hate it.”

“But I like having a famous friend.”

You roll your eyes before abruptly standing up straighter. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Father plans on hiring me a bodyguard to accompany me the entire day, like a pet dog. I think it’s a bit much.”

“If I recall, that’s what a bodyguard does.” She then nods her head. “It makes sense, y/n. You need one.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re on his side?” Her eyes widen and you slump over. “Ugh, Minjeong, I really don’t know what to do. I just don’t want one. Not one bit.”

A hand comes to rest over yours. “Hey, I’m always on your side. That’s why I think having a bodyguard would be good. They’ll keep you safe, y/n,” she insists. “Just think about it. If you really don’t want one, maybe your father will reconsider it. Truly.”

It’s not likely.

But two weeks go on, and it seems like your father has forgotten about it. You feel a bit more relaxed now that it seems to have passed, and you enter the 20-story building that your father runs.

It’s going too well, to be honest. Enjoying a nice, steaming cup of coffee with the bright and sunny weather outside, it was bound to go downhill from here.

A familiar voice calls your name.

You raise an eyebrow. “Chaeryeong? Why are you up here?”

Your other close friend who also attended the same boarding school as you and Minjeong when you were younger, walks in. She decided to get a job at your father’s company just to start her off somewhere since her father and yours were business partners.

She puts a hand on her hip. “Haven’t you heard?” You pause mid-sip. “Huh? Heard what?”

“Lee Jeno’s here.”

You blink. “Who?”

She gets even closer to you, placing both of her hands on your shoulders with an astounded expression. “The bodyguard? Good looking? The kind where everyone is talking about him good-looking?” She emphasizes with wide eyes. You open your mouth but you don’t even know the next words that are about to come out. “I-wha-“ Quickly, you collect yourself, tucking a strand of hair behind you. “Why is he here?”

Minjeong bursts into the room with a wild look in her eyes, the door banging against the wall with a loud bam. Your heads whip towards the door.

“That attractive guy is your new bodyguard?!”

❀

“Father,” you pout, hands placed together as you try your best to work your way out of whatever this is.

“No.”

It feels as if a cold breeze blows past you, and you shiver. Sneakily from underneath your eyelashes, your eyes shift to the person sitting stiffly in front of you.

It’s been five minutes, so you quickly give up. Sighing, you cross your legs, and then your arms as if it would assert your dominance. “Alright, shall we head off?”

The figure says nothing, only imitating your actions as you get up and walk out of your father’s office.

“No funny business, daughter of mine,” yup father calls out with a stern expression.

You roll your eyes.

The sound of the elevator beeping as you go down the many floors of the building fills the air. Soon enough, you can’t stand the silence.

“Y/n y/l/n, but I’m sure you know that already. And you?”

This may be the first time he’s properly looked at you. He clasps his hand behind his back like a typical bodyguard and you observe him carefully.

“Lee Jeno,” he responds curtly.

Carefully, you make a note in your head. “How old are you?” You wait for about a minute before his response comes. “I don’t believe I am inclined to answer that.”

You tilt your head to the side, not paying any heed to what he just said. “2000, right? Nice to meet you,” you comment briefly. Jeno stares out the window with that stoic face of his.

The rest of the ride down is in silence.

Serious about his job, much?

The silence appears to be there for you to contemplate how the rest of your life is going to play out with this man at your side. Or…. perhaps he would get fed up with you. That would be funny, and sadly at this moment, a dream come true.

Jerk. Annoying, straight-faced asshole.

You continue writing furiously at your desk, the pen sounds scratching and stamping against the lined paper while the memory from earlier in the day replays in your head for the nth time.

You scoff, “Mr. Lee Jeno, it’s just a hangout, that’s all. Just my two friends and I. Why can’t you let me go? I don’t think you-“

He stands there with no expression. “Your father said you couldn’t go out past 11 pm, Miss, so I’m not letting you go out. Please get into the car.” You feel your face flush with anger.

“Who said you could command me like that? Huh?”

The air feels cold and hot at the same time. The only thing that cuts through your heated expressions is the lowering of the window by the driver.

“Miss y/l/n? Is everything alright?”

You unfreeze, immediately smiling towards the man. “Of course, mister.”

Jeno next to you quickly bows, voice void of emotion. “Yes, sir. I apologize. I believe Miss y/l/n left something inside the building but it’s too late to get it. We’ll get into the car now, I apologize once again for the inconvenience.”

You stand there for a second, too astounded to do anything except stare at the person dressed in all black in front of you.

The audacity of this man.

You barely make it into the car (or home for that matter), accompanied by a glare from jeno.

You groan loudly, head falling onto the table with a thud.

A face peeks into the room. Your grandma (who wasn’t your grandmother by blood but you still liked to call her as such) stares at you, concerned. “Are you okay, y/n? Frustrated with work?”

You look up with an uneasy smile. “Oh, yeah, something like that…”

After she leaves satisfied with your answer, you properly smile. After all these years, she’s stuck by your side and taken care of you in replacement of your real family. Even now, she stays with you at your own place as the housekeeper.

You hope she never has to deal with dicks like Lee Jeno. You pinch your nose bridge, irked again.

It’s only been a week, and you’re at your wit's end. Why? Just why does the person you have to see every day for 24 hours on repeat have to be him? An aggravating, cocky, expressionless, handsome douch-

You stop yourself. And smack your face three, no, four times for good measure. You stand up violently with your palms planted flat on the table.

Let’s sleep.

You nod to yourself. Great idea.

❀

You stare holes into the man following after you into the building with his hands behind his back. You sincerely hope he gets the memo that you’re cursing him with your eyes.

You remember the first day of having Lee Jeno employed as your bodyguard. You remember the words you exchanged then.

You're fed up. You stop in your tracks, spinning around with your arms crossed and eyes glinting. “Do you have to follow me everywhere?”

Jeno stands there a few feet away, as he has been the whole day. “Do you know what a bodyguard does?” he retorts, unfazed.

You groan. “You know what? Go home. You can come back whenever my father’s around, so he at least thinks you’re doing your job. How’s that?” You point a finger at him aggressively. “I’ll pay you more. How much? What about-”

Jeno cocks his head. “Are you that much of an idiot?”

You scowl as you cross the lobby. Your bodyguard follows you into the elevator without a word and exits onto your floor without a word.

He’s even got his own personal desk now in your office, and you want to smack all the papers piled on his desk flying off.

Why the fuck does a bodyguard have his own papers to file?

You go to your desks respectively, not a single word exchanged. It lasts for about fourish hours until you give up. You stand up from your chair, exhaling as you glance at jeno. “I want to get something from the cafe. Let’s go.”

He gets up quietly, hands in his pocket as he follows you.

❀

You tap your hand on your chin thoughtfully. This order was especially important, as your day was already horrible enough and this one choice could quite literally change it.

Jeno sighs from behind you, reaching for his walkie-talkie. “No sir, we’re at the cafe. Miss y/n is taking a while with her order, I apologize on her behalf." It’s as if he was purposefully speaking louder for you to hear. You ignore him, gritting your teeth.

You practically start skipping in your designer heels, the taste of the drink makes you feel so giddy inside. Then it hits you. You left your layout plans back at home, so you switch your directions to head back there.

“Hey,” Jeno interrupts. “Where are you going? This isn’t the way back to the office.”

You ignore jeno once again.

Then a rough hand grabs your wrist, pulling you back with so much force. So much that you lose control and your drink is flung at jeno, soaking his neatly ironed suit.

Time pauses for a moment. You gasp, the air rushed out of you. Jeno freezes, the cold drink chilling his bones.

And then, it starts again. You snatch your hand out of his grip. “Are you crazy?” You yell, pissed. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Jeno grits his teeth, closing his eyes in an attempt to control himself. You raise a finger, directing it straight at his face, just in-between his onyx eyes. “Who said you could touch-“

You’re prevented from saying anything else as you feel your body being ripped from its spot and slammed against a nearby brick wall, the pain almost making your eyes well up with tears.

A hand slams harshly next to you, and your eyes flick towards the culprit. You swear you can see his eyes flash red, and his chest heaves heavily with anger.

“Why are you always acting like a bitch?”

He steps even closer and instead of backing down, you meet his intense gaze. After a few seconds, you scoff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms once again.

“Have you always been this spoiled?” He breathes out shakily, nostrils flaring. “Perhaps you should open your eyes to the people around you instead of being a selfish and egotistical brat.”

You notice a prominent vein sticking out in his neck from the close proximity and swallow. You look away and then push him hardly off of you, disgust in your eyes. “I don’t think you have the right to say anything like that as my bodyguard. I also don’t think you have the right to prevent me from going to my own home. Don’t you dare follow me anymore.”

Fuming, you stomp off.

❀

If there was ever a time you wanted to kill someone, now would be the perfect chance.

“Mr. Lee will be moving into your place.”

You clench your jaw. “Father, you can’t possibly make that person live in my home!”

“Who, again, is the one paying for your current residence?”

You falter before gathering your resolve. “Sure, you did. I’m grateful for that. But you only got it through connections.” You sigh, turning your head away. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no way I’ll ever let him take one step in my place.”

Your father’s eyes narrow. “You need surveillance hourly after that cafe stunt, and the only way to do that is by having Mr. Lee stay with you. At all times.”

❀

You don’t like this. Not at all.

Shoulders rigid and tense, you stand in front of the door to your penthouse located on the top floor. Still being a young adult, your father pulled some strings to let you live in an apartment building near the office with your care-taking staff.

Well, from now on, your bodyguard, Lee Jeno as well.

Hesitantly, you type in the passcode and watch the door swing open. Not bothering to look behind you, you call out, “The passcode is 0418. Remember that from now on because I won’t tell you again.”

You see your grandmother and immediately smile. She stops in her tracks, shocked at the appearance of a man in your home.

Jeno quickly bows. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs… ?”

She laughs, already taken in by his appearance and apparent manners. You watch uninterestedly from the side, picking at your nails.

“No need for formalities, just call me auntie,” she smiles kindly.

You clear your throat, calling out sweetly, “Grandmother~”

She raises an eyebrow. You carefully tiptoe over to her, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “That man is my bodyguard. You know, the one I told you about…”

She pulls away, surprised, before looking back at jeno. “Really? You’re that handsome man?”

You choke on your spit. He smiles bashfully, and your mouth almost drops. The first time you’ve ever seen lee jeno smile, and it was… You look away.

pretty.

He bows again. “Thank you, auntie.”

Flustered, you call for a maid. “Take him to his room and tell him all the rules for staying here,” you order. Then you turn around and head towards your bedroom, desperately wishing for this to be a dream. For lee jeno who is currently staying in your home to all just be a dream.

It’s no use.

You get up, sighing. Hours later, you still can’t sleep. You can’t sleep knowing that lee jeno is a few bedrooms away, doing who knows what.

Probably sleeping, you remind yourself with a sarcastic laugh.

But for some reason, you can’t help but wonder about him. You groan, trying to get settled back into bed. And then you see his face again.

Lee jeno, smiling with those stupidly pretty eyes.

You want to rip your hair out.

Quietly tip-toeing, you walk out into the dark living room and across the hall to his guest room. Heart pounding, you stop at the door. Your hand slowly rests on the handle, and you contemplate for a second. Knocking and waiting give you no answer.

So you open it. Only to find the room empty, as if he was never there in the first place.

If this feeling was disappointment, perhaps? you don’t know what you would do, so you head back to your room, feeling as if you could finally shut your eyes.

❀

You get it, after a few days of coming home late at night with him always a few steps behind.

Jeno leaves. That bit was obvious, but it all made sense now. He always left late at night, and always came back early in the morning for you. At first, you thought it was a waste of time (and precious sleep) before you recalled what he said to you that one day.

“Perhaps you should open your eyes to the people around you instead of only being a selfish and egotistical brat.”

You laugh, upset when you really shouldn’t be. That’s right, jeno probably has his own family that he has to return to, that he never sees because of his demanding job. His job where he has to see your complaining, spoiled face every day. He probably has a girlfriend, or wife even-

You slap yourself. Stop wasting your time thinking about jeno. You know what? It’s time to say goodnight.

You needed to rest, after all, tomorrow was a big day. Another one added to the countless big days you’ve already had in your youth and age.

❀

“I conclude my proposition for the upcoming 2022 schedule. I thank you all for your attention and attendance.” You bow, and rounds of claps fill the room.

Unbeknownst to you, jeno stands out to the side of the meeting room, leaning against the wall as he waits for you. He stood planted like that for hours since the beginning of the meeting.

He looks down at the ground, still hearing the lasting effects of the applause from your presentation. Jeno won’t lie- he’s impressed. Okay so maybe at first he thought you were just another snotty rich kid with nothing better to do than spend all your money, but it turns out you can be more than that. He almost scoffs at the thought.

The way you exuded confidence- it was oozing out of you and into everyone in the room, and your voice speaking melodies (and many things he didn’t understand), but it was enough to make him shiver.

After finishing the ending remarks, you finally notice jeno’s presence. How long has he been there?

You walk over with a neutral expression on your face. You’re waiting, you’re not sure what for, but you’re waiting for him.

And all he does is stare.

You don’t get flustered. Not easily. And lee jeno staring at you for a long time made you flustered.

You bite your lip, frustrated. “What?” You finally bark. No response.

“What are you looking at?” You demand, looking disgusted. You walk off without another word. If you were being honest, you may have seemed rude but you were actually fretting internally, heart racing.

Was it your hair?

Self-consciously, you pat the top of your head, looking for a nearby mirror.

No way- this morning you purposely set your alarm early to do your hair for the meeting and so a certain someone would notice- you cough suddenly, thoughts interrupted by the approaching executive director. Immediately, you stop and put your act on, smiling and bowing. “How are you, sir?”

If you had just stayed back one more second, then you might’ve heard jeno murmur,

“you.”

❀

You bite your lip, searching through desk after desk.

Where could it be?

You swear you saw your father put it in the bottom left drawer, but it wasn’t there.

Running a hand through your hair, you quickly double-check that no one else is in the room, and continue the search. Your eyes gleam.

Found it.

The car keys dangle in your hand, practically shining in the light. It’s been months since you’ve last seen your precious baby, months since your father forbid you from driving. Probably to keep you from escaping late at night and doing things you shouldn’t be doing as the famous daughter of a CEO.

“What are you doing?”

Shit. You scramble to your feet, fixing your outfit.

Jeno stands in front of you, looking unimpressed. “What are those?”

You grow defensive, trying not to look as guilty or suspicious as possible while silently cursing him in your head. “Is asking questions the only thing you do?”

He shifts. “Maybe, if those car keys are yours.” He opens his mouth again. “I-“

In two seconds you’re in front of him, hands behind your back. Maybe just this once, it’ll work…

You look up at him from under your eyelashes, trying to muster the most pitiful (and childish) expression you can. “Please, oh please, my wonderful dear bodyguard, will you let me off just this once?” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I promise I’ll never treat you horribly or yell at you ever again. If you want, I won’t even talk to you anymore. I swear, these are the keys to my happiness-“

You peek an eye open, waiting hesitantly for his reaction.

You pout using your special pitiful eyes, leaning in closer. “Please, Mr. Lee, I really need this…”

Jeno stands there, still as a rock and completely unfazed by your little stunt. He blinks, clasping his arms behind his back and clearing his throat. “Are you done?”

You stop the act, deflated. You tilt your head to the side, anger building inside you once again.

He seems oblivious, looking outside the window at the scenery. “I believe your friend requested to have lunch with you at this time, miss.” You stand up straighter, temporarily distracted. “Huh? Who?”

❀

The CEO eventually calls Jeno into his office later that night.

Jeno bows, awaiting his next words. “You called me in, sir?” Your father sighs, hands clasped together at his desk. “I happened to see y/n exit my office earlier today, although I’m certain she did not have any engagements or reasons to be in here. Is there something you need to tell me?”

Jeno inhales, thinking back to this morning with your hands cutely clasped in front of you and eyes shut. That side of you he never would have expected- that made his hands clammy. When was the last time he had clammy hands?

He swallows, bowing once again.

“No, sir.”

The CEO cocks his head. “Really?”

“I believe she was just grabbing her jacket that she left there earlier this morning.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes sir.”

He gestures with a hand, “If that’s all, you’re dismissed.”

Jeno turns to leave, a storm brewing inside of him.

❀

It’s been a week and your father hasn’t said anything. You giggle to yourself before looking up.

“Mr. Jeno!”

He sighs, walking to your desk. “Yes?”

You look around animatedly, humming. “I wonder… could you get me two coffees?”

Jeno’s eye twitches. You never break eye contact, staring deeply into his eyes with a sparkle. “Pretty please? I’ll pay you back. Extra if you want.”

You smile brightly up at him, and he turns away. Once jeno leaves, you get back to your work, humming happily.

Chareryeong’s mouth drops open from across the table after seeing your interaction. She quickly glances around before turning to you and whispering, “I thought you hated that man? All you did was talk shit about him to me.”

You tap your pencil against your papers quickly scribbling something down.

“Well… it’s turned out to be better than I originally thought.”

“What do you mean?”

You shrug. “Not sure, he’s just an interesting man. He only talks when talked to, and doesn’t show an ounce of emotion.”

“Except when he’s pissed at me,” you add quickly, frowning.

You dramatically whip your head towards the nearby window, sunlight shining through to light up the best features of your face while you study the beams of light.

“I want to be the one to get him to open up. I want to unlock those secrets of his,” you murmur wistfully.

She shakes her head. “Are you crazy? Or a pervert? No, both?”

You send a deadly glare towards Chaeryeong. “I’m not, I’m just hungry.” You frown, “How long do you think he’ll take to get back?”

❀

Two cups of coffee are slammed onto the desk, and you almost flinch before proceeding to let out a blindingly breathtaking smile once you realize who it is in front of you. “Thanks, my dear bodyguard.”

He stands there, unamused.

Sighing, you pick up a cup and offer it to him. “I got it for you.”

Oh, really? He thinks mockingly to himself. “I don’t drink coffee,” he states simply before turning away.

You stare down the back of jeno, from his perfectly styled hair to his broad shoulders and down to neatly tied shoes. Tch.

There’s no need for you to worry, after all, you’ll have plenty more chances.

❀

This game of cat and mouse continues on, to jeno’s pure dislike. He would never admit it, but intrigue fills him just as much. You intimidate him. Your dramatic 360 change in behavior around jeno confused not only him but the people around you. Either way, jeno refuses to fall into your trap. No matter how sweetly you talk to him with that infuriating (read: cute) look on your face.

-except for times such as these, when you act so stubborn and do such idiotic things jeno can’t stand to comprehend you.

So there was a reason you didn’t go far away from your house or father’s building into the public that often when alone.

Your eyebrow twitches. You quietly clear your throat, lowering your head even closer to the ground as if it’ll hide your identity anymore. You prayed that the baseball cap you wore purposefully to cover your face would work, but obviously, it didn’t- judging by the whispers around you.

“Excuse me, are you by chance, y/n y/l/n?”

You smile sheepishly, lowering your head even more while cursing internally. “Oh, uh, you see-“

“Guys, that’s CEO y/l/n’s daughter.”

“No way, you’re right.”

“Do you think I can get a picture? I’ve never been this close to a celebrity before..”

“Damn, she’s a lot prettier in person…”

Before you know it, a crowd surrounds you in the store while alarms go off in your head. You hear their insistent demand for pictures or autographs and see the confusion by the workers in the store. Cringing, you look around for the exit, avoiding hands reaching towards your body as you scramble to escape.

Jeno… you think, panicking. Jeno. Where is he?

That’s right. He said he was going for a walk while you were shopping in the store. Fuck, you curse.

And then, it’s like heaven appears right before your eyes. Amid the mob, you see a hand reach for you, and then a firm grip on your wrist pulls you out.

It’s jeno, gritting his teeth as he takes you away and makes a break for it. You feel like you’re in an action movie, running away in slow motion as jeno drags you along.

He turns left, then left again, and then right. You’re such a mess, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you and jeno turn a corner, almost running into another couple.

Jeno halts immediately, aggressively but still somehow politely commanding something from them. You’re confused, brain feeling like it’s running a thousand miles per hour. He knocks off your hat quickly while still on the lookout- you’re not even sure how he’s doing all these things at once.

You feel something shoved on top of your head and it finally clicks when you spot jeno wrapping the (hideous) jacket the lady was wearing just a few seconds ago around you.

He puts a cap on, presumably the man���s, and quickly thanks the confused couple before pulling you to a secluded corner by the edge of a building.

“What are you-“

You hear voices and you’re sure there was a quick hint of your name, causing you to gasp in fear.

Jeno bites his lip, looking around in desperation before he continues past the corner, revealing a sketchy, dark alleyway.

He starts toward it but you resist, pulling back without budging.

His head whips back toward you. “What are you-?”

You glare indignantly back at him. “I’m not going down that alley. You have no clue what’s in there.”

He rolls his eyes. “We don’t have time.” You pull your hand out of his grip, crossing your arms as you look to the side. “I will not.”

“You’re being a brat,” he snaps, and you nod stubbornly in acknowledgment. “Sure- I am. But you’re not making me go in that awful place.” Right as you finish, you hear multiple voices getting closer, and it takes a lot in you to not whimper.

“Idiot,” he hisses, before peeking past the corner as the voices get louder and louder. You don’t have time to process before you feel jeno push you against the wall with that seemingly inhumane bodyguard strength of his, just like that time before, except this time he leans into you, caging you underneath his arms.

“What are you- why-“ you splutter, but his face comes so close to yours that you simply shut your eyes tightly in response. You wait, feeling his soft breathing right above your mouth and lips hovering- almost touching yours.

But he never does. Even when the crowd walks by, unknowingly passing you two with your disguises, you grip tightly onto his jacket.

Jeno doesn’t let go until you’re safe. He releases you from under him, and you finally feel like you can breathe.

You hate the fact that jeno smelled really disgustingly good. Especially good- you can almost imagine, a pine forest with a woody and fresh scent that was stuck forever in your head. Perhaps the scent just reminded you of things you wished for that jeno carried with him.

You walk behind jeno, following like a lost puppy back to the car pickup area. You feel like you just ran a 5k, the adrenaline still not having faded yet.

You can just tell by jeno’s tense shoulders that he is probably, absolutely furious. When you reach the designated spot, waiting for the car to come pick you guys up, he turns to you with fists clenched.

“Why,” he shudders, “why did you think it was a good idea to go out in public without me? Did you really think no one would recognize you? Are you that fucking stupid?”

You look away, fidgeting. “I thought the hat would be enough to cover my face but…”

He scoffs, putting his hands on his hips. “A baseball cap isn’t enough to hide your identity- you know people can still see you with a hat on, right?”

He looks away, sarcastically chuckling. “Or maybe not, since you don’t even go outside.”

The car finally pulls up as you feel the anger boil through your body.

“Sure. Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself, you entitled prick!” You yell indignantly, two seconds away from flipping him off and calling for an uber.

“You can’t for shit,” jeno growls back. He takes your arm, opening the door, and forcefully putting you in the car. He thanks the valet driver, exchanging places and getting into the driver's seat.

You wait until he gets adjusted on the road again before speaking up, looking straight at his side profile. “I’m fine. Nobody got hurt, so it’s alright. I understand what to do from now on, so you don’t have to be mad anymore.“

The car rolls to a stop at the red light.

“You could’ve died. How can you not get that into your dense brain?” He snaps. “Your life is of uttermost importance- why do you even think people like me exist? To protect people's lives, your life, because you can’t afford to get hurt. You don’t understand the repercussions of your actions.”

The rest of the ride is in silence. You don’t dare to look at him anymore. When he reaches your apartment building, you get out and walk in without a single look back.

He sighs, reaching to move the car out of park when he spots an unfamiliar item.

Your jacket. Jeno sighs, deciding that he doesn’t want any of your belongings left in this car. He hesitates, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue before finally unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out.

When he reaches your door, he’s about to knock before he remembers you told him the passcode before.

“Remember that from now on because I won’t tell you again.”

The door unlocks with a quiet beep, swinging open gently. Jeno goes in silently as it’s in his nature, contemplating if he should just leave your jacket on the couch when he sees your room door open.

Peeking past, the only thing in sight is you, huddled by the foot of your bed and looking so small, perhaps the smallest he’s ever seen you. Jeno stops, confused. It’s silent.

He places your jacket down and takes a few steps towards your figure. As he gets closer, he can hear only one thing.

The sound of your quiet sniffles. That’s when he sees your body shaking.

Instinct kicks in and jeno bursts through the door and runs to your side, grabbing your shoulders and whipping you around so he can assess the damage.

You freeze awkwardly, bewildered. “W-what are you doing?”

He stills, equally as confused as you are. And then you gasp, horrified. “Did you follow me in? Did you watch me the entire time?”

Jeno feels shock and embarrassment course through his veins. You weren’t hurt.

You were crying.

How could he not notice before he saw your fluttering, watery eyes, and red nose?

Jeno looks down, voice soft. “Why… what’s wrong?”

Abruptly, you wipe your eyes and clear your throat. Sheepishly, you laugh. “It’s nothing, I just thought-“

You cut your sentence off midway, bringing a hand to run through your hair while you collect yourself.

This time, your voice comes out small and slow, as if you were a child that just got scolded. “I’m scared, jeno. You were right.”

You look away, head down so your hair falls in front of your face. “It was really scary.” Your voice is timid and hesitant. “What am I supposed to do now when I can’t even go outside without fearing for my life? When did things get like this?”

Your eyes slowly raise to look at him as you try to hold back from quivering. “I just… i wanna be okay.”

A few beats of silence pass. Eventually, Jeno’s hand reaches out, and it falls on the back of your neck, pushing you forward until your forehead rests against his.

Your breath hitches.

“I’m sorry.”

The sound of his voice, so soft and tender, sends shivers throughout your body.

“I promise I’ll protect you. You don’t have to be scared any longer, because I’m here, okay? I’m here to keep you safe, remember it’s my duty to make sure nothing happens to you. I’ll be the one to make you okay.” He stares at you, gazing deeply into your eyes. You can’t seem to break away from his dark eyes, full of compassion and sincerity.

He exhales, slowly releasing you. “Come on,” he stands up and straightens himself, “it’s been a long day and you should go to sleep.”

You nod, head empty except for exhaustion.

You stare up at the ceiling after getting tucked into bed. You can see jeno standing awkwardly by the door at the edge of your view, waiting. Shifting under the covers, you call out hesitantly, “Will you stay? Just-” you swallow, “just stay near me until I fall asleep? So I can feel safe?” Your voice ends in a whisper.

Jeno does. He watches you for a while, not knowing if he should stay or go. Just so he doesn’t feel like those creepy stalkers in movies, he goes to sit by the chair near your bed, staring at your peaceful face and your breaths soon evening out.

Jeno leaves after cleaning up the place a little bit, putting your shoes by the door and jacket up even though he knew you had workers hired to do those jobs.

Jeno leaves after delicately brushing the stray hairs off your face.

❀

It’s a beautiful morning. You wake up feeling strangely refreshed, getting out of bed and padding over to your master bathroom to get ready for the day.

You see swollen eyes staring back at you in the mirror, weird. Leaving over the sink, you turn on the faucet, about to run your hands under the water-

when it hits you.

Everything that happened yesterday. Everything comes rushing back.

You freeze, a hand covering your mouth as you let out a muffled shriek. The crowd chasing you, jeno almost kissing you, him catching you crying, the “will you stay?”

You silently hyperventilate, pacing back and forth across the marbled flooring. There’s no way you can go to work today. Absolutely no way.

❀

You sit rigidly at your desk in the office, too distracted to focus so your hands type random words onto the computer, keyboard clacking erratically.

So far, Jeno hasn’t said or done anything differently. He’s greeted you the same, spoke the same- nothing seems to be off. Except you, obviously.

Your father’s secretary walks in, accompanied by the sharp clicking of her heels. “Y/n, dear, your father was wondering when you would submit the instruction plans.”

You sit up straight. “Instruction plans?” you ask, blinking. She raises an eyebrow. “The one due today?”

Well, shit.

❀

You already knew the moment you screwed up you would be sent to the one and only- your father’s office.

It’s deadly quiet, and you stand with your head lowered to the ground and hands clasped behind your back.

“Y/n.”

You bite your lip. “Father.”

“How can I have such high expectations of you when you forget imperative things like these plans? You knew they were due today. We were counting on you, and we didn’t dare expect them to come in five hours late.”

You breathe in, and then out. “Forgive me, father. It was a one-time mistake that I know I will never do again. I promise to keep track of all my schedules from now on.”

“Should I get you your own personal secretary-“

“No!” You blurt out instinctively, although you catch yourself a second later, swiftly composing yourself. “No thank you. I had some issues yesterday but I assure you it will never happen again.”

He dismisses you with a hand.

Things seemed to settle down again after that. Surprisingly, you and jeno hadn’t gotten in many major arguments after that. It was more of bickering. Friendly bickering that actually left you laughing more times than fuming. It was a nice change to see jeno smiling more often. And unbeknownst to you, he felt the same.

Before jeno clocks in one fine morning, chaeryeong rolls her chair over to your desk. You look at her, waiting for her next words.

“So… you and jeno?” An incomprehensible sound escapes your mouth without warning, causing her to raise her eyebrows higher. Quickly, you clear your throat. “What are you talking about?”

She holds back a laugh. “Every time I see you two around the building, you’re always talking. And smiling.”

You look back towards your computer screen awkwardly- suspiciously. “So? Are we not allowed to do that?” She sends you another knowing look, one that you ignore, instead focusing back on your work.

Jeno comes in strangely late, specifically 40 minutes late. And he’s never late. You watch him plop down at his desk with a disgruntled grunt, sluggishly getting his things prepped for the day. A frown settles on your face unconsciously.

The whole day, he acts strange. He looks exhausted- not the kind that you’re familiar with- not the one you usually have when there’s a big presentation the next day and you can’t sleep, but more just like when you’re tired of life. Done with living. Exhausted from life.

His responses to your questions are short. Even when you ask if there’s something wrong, he just brushes it off or looks away. It throws off your whole day. It's difficult when he spends all his time with you, constantly at your side, and it bothers you much more than you would have liked.

Even the drive home is completely silent. You study him from the side, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw tense like they have been all day.

You wait until he reaches your apartment building before speaking up hesitantly. “Are you really alright, jeno?”

He murmurs an unconvincing, “yeah.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been-“

“I said I’m fine!” he snaps, turning to you with a spark in his eyes before it dissipates. He looks away, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s nothing you did. Just don’t worry about me,” he says, voice considerably lower.

A tiny nod escapes from you. You both make your way up quietly to your home, the silence feeling strange as you and jeno usually chatted during the way up, but obviously, that didn’t happen today.

Once you enter and greet all the workers, you excuse yourself to wash up in your master bathroom, leaving jeno to linger in the living area. You assume he’s going to leave sooner than later as he always does, never once having stayed the night at your place since your father directed him to do so.

You take your sweet time, allowing yourself to wash away all the stressful things of the day as you get ready for bed. But before you do, you go outside to get a glass of water and chat with your grandmother.

What you did not expect was to see jeno’s sleeping figure on your plush couch, body rising and falling peacefully with his breaths. He must’ve been exhausted, having fallen asleep like that. You stop in your tracks, processing the sight. What in the world?

Swallowing, you decide to carefully walk closer, examining his face and how even in his slumber he still looks stressed.

A sound diverts your attention, a couple of the maids standing there patiently. You silently signal for them to leave you two in peace.

You study him with an unreadable expression. “Did you have a rough day?” You whisper softly, a concerned look on your face. “You seemed so off the whole day, I have no clue what happened to you.” You look around before exhaling and reaching out a hand to fix a piece of his styled hair that fell out of its place.

“I’m- uh, I’m sorry?”

You’re unsure of what to do or say next, so you grab a blanket from the guest room and attempt to cover him as best as you can, especially for the fact that you had never done anything like this to someone else before.

Before you head to bed, you inform the workers to let him sleep on the couch for the night. You have no idea why this instinct comes over you- why it makes you do these things for him.

❀

Jeno wakes up with the sun in his face, an unfamiliar background coming into focus. He rests there for a moment, allowing his body to fully wake up.

He shifts- his clothes, he’s still in his suit- and where even is he?

Sitting up, it eventually comes back to him in pieces. That’s right, he fell asleep at your place on your couch. But the blanket? He has no recollection of anything else.

Jeno spots a glass of water on the table, and he glances around before figuring it must be for him. He takes a gulp, and then another one, and then another before he realizes he’s finished it all.

He hears a familiar voice. “Mr. Jeno?”

It’s your grandmother. She smiles kindly at him. “The missus informed me to tell you that you have the day off. Just rest, alright?”

His eye twitches. “Pardon?”

She laughs. “You don’t have to work today, dear. Don’t go to the office. Y/n especially enforced that.”

He stares at the white blanket still covering him, thinking back to last night. Before your grandmother leaves him be, she has her last remark. “She was really concerned for you after last night. Please take better care of yourself, jeno.”

“Y/n? Really?” All jeno can do is wonder why.

You sit there, as still as a statue while the makeup artists and hairstylists work their magic. It’s been a while since you’ve gone out to a public event due to your father’s advice that the was best to let things cool off after those crazy fan situations. It’s been a while since you’ve attended one of these events as a brand ambassador.

You stand head to toe dressed in their clothes, practically a walking advertisement. The last time you remember doing any activity related to their brand was when you shot for a photo shoot to be printed on magazines sent out all over the country.

After the last finishing touches are put on your face, you thank everyone and head for the car to take you to the event’s location.

Jeno greets you in the car, and you nod with a grim smile. There wasn’t a feeling of nervousness in you, more of a numb sense filling your body. You watch the night lights zoom by through the car window, and occasionally sounds beeping from jeno’s walkie-talkie would fill the air.

You know when you’re getting close because the sounds of fans and chatter and just about everything get louder and louder. When the car rolls to a stop, you brace yourself. Jeno gets out first, and that’s when you suddenly freeze. Someone opens the door, and suddenly all the sounds are amplified. The screams from fans, cameras clicking, employees of the event are all there. But again, just as it once happened before, a hand extends out to you.

It’s Jeno’s.

You gulp, internally commanding yourself to put on your public face while taking his hand out of the car.

The flashing lights and desperate paparazzi reaching out to you are familiar. Instead, you just try your best to smile and keep a cool head. But it’s difficult when there are so many people surrounding you, trapping you.

You look up at jeno.

And once again, it feels like time freezes. Suddenly he’s the one that seems so cool in the midst of flashing lights, the stoic expression on his face as he holds a hand out to make way as your bodyguard takes your breath away.

You’re so caught up in staring at him, gulping, that you don’t know if you’re even moving forward. Or paying attention.

Well, evidently not since you don’t notice a mic shoved at you until it’s right in your face. You flinch, and jeno immediately shields you, pushing it away. He guides you to another route that’s not blocked by as many people. Jeno waits until there’s a moment for you to breathe before asking with the same concern he once showed you before. “Are you okay?”

Throat dry, you can’t bring yourself to respond so you nod quickly. Then you’re swept into the rest of the event and all of its happenings. Luckily, you’re professional enough to compose yourself for the rest of your appearance at the show.

You pose for pictures just like those professional models, answer questions flawlessly, and interact with the other famous people there all while keeping a smile on your face at all times. There’s a chance it all came off looking fake, but you’re hoping that it was enough to convince the public and the people.

The people. The fans. Your fans. Your fans that you love and appreciate the most. (Excluding the crazy ones that completely disregard your rights as a human being.)

It’s only when they ask for pictures or signatures from you that you truly smile. And jeno can clearly see that. Even when he’s farther off, not the one in the spotlight, he can see your felicitous smile as you pose with your adoring supporters. The times when you’re not right in front of the camera, you’ll nudge him, muttering about how cute your fans are or how talented they are with the creative banners they make for you.

Jeno has never seen this side of you before. He’s only seen the fear in your eyes when those intrusive fans suddenly surrounded you. He’s only seen the crying, upset you who’s scared to be who you are.

But when you smile at them, he unknowingly smiles at you.

❀

The event lasts for five hours, including preparation beforehand and closing statements. Not necessarily a long time, but jeno isn’t used to constantly watching over one person's every move or constantly being in fear something will happen to you after those previous times. Every time you leave his sight, he can’t truly breathe until he sees you again.

Finally, when you wave goodbye to all your admirers and get into the car, can jeno’s heart relax. You breathe a sigh of relief, buckling your seatbelt as jeno shifts the car into drive.

“You looked nice today,” he comments out of the blue.

You glance at him, observing as he drives out of the venue. But perhaps, you might’ve looked too much for too long. You didn’t pay attention to how long you really were staring at him.

“Why are you looking at me so much today?”

You inhale sharply, turning away. “H-huh? What are you talking about?” You pretend to act oblivious, murmuring something random about the weather finally getting cooler. Jeno chuckles quietly, driving the rest of the way home.

When he pulls up and opens the door for you, you finally realize the extent to which your feet hurt, having stood around in heels for far too long. You can’t wait to get up to the comfort of your penthouse and take them off- quite actually the best feeling ever.

You take a few steps before unexpectedly turning around to face jeno. He stops, somewhat surprised.

“Why don’t you actually sleep at my place? Why do you leave in the middle of the night and come back early in the morning?”

His eyes widen. A few beats pass with no answer.

At last, you look down, shrugging. “I was just curious, that’s all. You don’t have to answer,” you reply, reassuring him with a smile.

“Go home and get some rest. Thanks for sticking with me today.” You quickly bow and run inside the apartment, heart pounding erratically.  Jeno can only stand there, shocked while watching your silhouette get smaller and smaller until it disappears into the building.

What could this be?

It keeps happening. Whenever he holds a hand for you to take while stepping out from the car or opens doors for you- or does anything more than his job doesn’t necessarily entail. Jeno’s been doing it since the beginning, whether you asked him to or not. So why is it suddenly affecting you like this? Why does it even make a difference? It’s just manners, but to you, it’s more.

When you open the door to the car in the morning and he turns to look at you from the driver’s seat, it’s like a scene from those movies. It always plays out in slow motion, jeno in his clean suit and freshly styled hair turning around to greet you. The first time you experienced this, you almost shut the door and quite literally walked back into the building. It made you feel weird- an unavoidable feeling building inside each time it happened, and you couldn’t describe it.

Things like that would make you wonder. Is it just formality? You’ve seen how jeno acts around others, he’s truly a polite and well-mannered person. Is he just being nice to you since he was hired by your father? Those thoughts would invade your mind from time to time. Then again, you didn’t always have that kind of precious time to dwell on that, you were the famous daughter of the biggest CEO in the country. But that didn’t mean you still couldn’t try.

Tuesday. 8 am.

“Jeno!” You greet enthusiastically as he walks into your office as if you hadn’t seen him just sometime earlier when he came to pick you up to head to work.

“Good morning,” he responds calmly. You watch him get settled in at his desk.

11 am.

You blow a stray hair out of your face, tapping your pen against the table repeatedly as you think of a solution. Your brain feels like it’s hanging on a thin wire, about to snap. This is why you didn’t want to follow in your father’s footsteps, you remind yourself.

You frown silently, eyes wandering around the room. Naturally, they fall on jeno whose attention was focused on his phone, and you assume he’s playing his weird shooting game considering his furrowed eyebrows and hunched shoulders. You’ve watched him play it a couple of times before, whenever he was bored while waiting for you after some long meeting or discussion.

A lightbulb goes off in your head, causing a mischievous smile to appear on your face. Target acquired. You position yourself in your wheely chair and push. If your father saw, you would be scolded for “improper office etiquette.”

The wheels make a satisfying sound as they cruise against the ground, going straight in the direction you wanted. You roll up right next to jeno’s desk, one arm on the armrest as you place your chin in the palm of your hand, lingering. He doesn’t seem to notice your presence so you wait by peering down at his screen, eventually getting into his game.

He gets shot, his fingers flying wildly over the screen, and you let out a horrified gasp. Jeno’s head whips around before his sight lands on you and he visibly relaxes. “Fucking hell, you scared me.”

You smile innocently.

He shuts off the device. “What are you doing? Aren't you working?” You roll your eyes. “I can’t. I’m stuck. Help me, my dear bodyguard.”

Jeno pauses the game thoughtfully, looking at the clock on the wall next to him. “It’s almost lunchtime. Do you plan on going out?”

A wide smile breaks onto your face. “Well, now that you mention it…” Jeno stifles laughter as you eagerly grab your stuff and get ready to head out together.

Friday. Noon.

“Do you like your bodyguard?” Minjeong unexpectedly asks in the middle of your girls’ lunch.

You tilt your head to the side, sipping on your drink. “Do I like Jeno? I mean, sure. We don’t fight as much as we used to…” you nod pensively.

Chaeryeong snickers while Minjeong rolls her eyes.

“Y/n, sweetie. I mean like as in feeling attraction towards him. Any romantic feelings?” she emphasizes. You stop sipping, your mouth parting off the straw habitually.

“What,” you swallow, “makes you ask that?”

They both shrug simultaneously. There’s a certain look in their eyes that you can’t decipher. “You see,” Minjeong starts, “this is the first time in our lives that we’ve seen you act like this towards someone of the opposite sex.”

You think you hear crickets chirping off from far away. In what language would you possibly be able to understand what that means?

Chaeryeong bursts out laughing at the dumbfounded expression on your face before adding, “yeah, and he even calls you by your first name. Did he ask you or did you ask him to do that-”

You clear your throat, “You know what? I think I have to go. Jeno must be waiting for me,” you cough. “Oh dear, look at the time- I need to head out. I’ll contact you guys later!”

You pathetically smile for a split second before gathering your things and dashing off, looking for the nearest exit and private area for you to call jeno to come pick you up.

“Hello? The bill!” Minjeong calls out indignantly.

You curse. “I’ll get it next time,” you yell back before squeezing your eyes shut and pushing past the doors.

While walking away, you round past a corner without paying attention, too distracted trying to contact jeno. You bump into something firm, stumbling back.

You look up, it’s a random man that you’ve never seen and don't want to anymore after seeing how his face changes when he takes in your appearance. You try to smile politely, although you don’t feel like it.

“Excuse me.” Your attempt to sidestep the man fails. He steps in your way purposefully, trying to laugh and smile as if it was a coincidental accident. This has happened to you too many times to count, so it only annoys you even further at this point.

“Hey, are you interested in-"

“Sorry. "I’m busy at the moment.” You don’t even attempt to smile at this point. He frowns, and you try again to pass him.

“Wait-“ he takes your arm and you feel disgust rise through you. “Let me go,” you command. He doesn’t.

“Oh, come on-“

“What do you think you’re doing?” You both turn around, and your heart sinks in relief when you see him. Jeno takes your hand, and you gasp when he pulls you closer to him. “Excuse you, but she’s with me. Thank you and goodbye.”

You can barely stutter anything out as he guides you to a secluded area, sitting you down on a nearby bench. Jeno places his hands on his hips. “Don’t go off like that without letting me know,” he scolds gently. “You scared me.”

You inhale sharply, avoiding his gaze. “A-alright.”

He raises an eyebrow at your reaction but his next words get interrupted by a call on his phone, and he turns around to answer.

You take this chance to place your hand softly on your chest, right above where your heart was. Your heart that was racing.

❀

This is the first time you’ve gone to a party with jeno. A formal one, but it’s still a party nevertheless.

You already spilled all the details to jeno in the car, informing him on what these ‘parties’ were really for. It was for those old snotty rich people to either set up their kids together or gossip to gain information and get an upper hand for their businesses. Essentially- a damn waste of your time. But as your father once said, any way to boost your reputation and public standing is good enough.

He nods, soaking in all your words. You take his hand and squeeze it gently. “Sorry, Jen,” and the nickname makes his chest tighten, “but it’s going to be a whole lot more boring than my father’s meetings.”

❀

Turns out that you’re very right.

Jeno spends most of his time people-watching. Of course, he was still guarding you, his eyes would flick over towards you occasionally, but there’s wasn’t much to see when 99% the time you had a fake smile on your face. Yes, the business-friendly one that most people wouldn’t catch, but jeno has seen it enough times to know what was a real or a fake smile from you.

He can easily describe the way your eyes crinkle and your mouth splits into a wide grin- he swears your dark orbs sparkle every time. But that wasn’t the kind of smile you wore now.

Jeno politely declines an offer for a glass of champagne for the 10th time- he doesn’t dare drink on the job. He looks over to where you are, and immediately his eyes capture the picture of you by the bar, drink placed next to you as you stare up at whatever stupid show is on the widescreen tv, the colors flashing back down onto your skin.

His gaze never breaks until he sees an unfamiliar man slide next to you. His bodyguard instincts go off but you don’t seem to notice the man and he doesn’t do anything to interact with you. Jeno hesitates, it wasn’t his duty to cut in whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted. He watches you talk for a couple of minutes, not paying too much attention.

He sighs, about to turn away when he catches a flash of something in the man’s hand, reflected off from the tv screen’s lights- the hand that’s moving away from your glass.

Well, shit. You’re completely clueless, having looked in the opposite direction of that man and therefore didn’t see anything suspicious of the sort. Immediately, jeno gets up from his spot leaning against the wall, making his way over to you. In the process, he encounters at least five groups of people that get in his way and prevent his path towards you.

Puffing a breath of frustration, you’ve moved to another part of the room with the glass in your hand by the time he gets over to the bar, seemingly very deep in conversation with a few important-looking people judging by their outfits.

Jeno’s sweating nervous sweat in his suit and he absolutely hates it. Every single time you raise the glass to your lips only to bring it back down because you have something important to contribute to the conversation, he feels like a piece of him has shriveled up and died.

It’s not as simple as it seems. More specifically, it’s just not his right to jump in whoever he wants. It’s rude etiquette and one of the first things he’s ever learned at his training school. Yes, there’s the whole you could die shit, and yes that’s a huge deal. But for some reason, all his instructors also made it a huge fucking deal not to interfere in business talk. Because for some ridiculous reason jeno will never get, rich people can’t stand it when “lower class” people interrupt them. And it makes jeno utterly furious when he just wants to walk over to you and rip that cursed drink out of your delicate, manicured hands.

He waits for a good moment. Any moment. He also forgets how popular you are. Jeno doesn’t want to admit it but it certainly irks him to see so many guys confidently walk up to you as if they think they can even get close to receiving your number. Except, jeno also feels a gratifying amount of satisfaction seeing the look of rejection on their faces just mere seconds later.

Jeno wants to go to you. He also wants to find the dumbass who spiked your drink in the first place, but the fear that you’ll take a sip the second he looks away overpowers him. It seems like there’s never going to be a moment he can jump in, and he contemplates just interrupting your conversation. What would the consequences be?

The split second you turn away from those dumb entrepreneurs or whoever jeno doesn’t care about, to raise that glass to your lips, he practically charges forward, ripping your wrist away and effectively spilling the drink in your hands all over the floor.

Astounded, you look up to see Jeno’s intense stare, breathing heavily. There’s complete silence around you, and luckily only in your proximity did by-passers notice.

Your expression says it all. What the hell?

He clenches his jaw, leaning in. “Spiked,” he mutters. Your eyes widen, and a bazillion thoughts course through your head before you remember where you are.

The people next to you are still just as speechless as you were, and once again you thank your years of practice that have led you to this day.

Your face automatically corrects to your business face and you start laughing, making eye contact with all the bewildered people in front of you. You throw a hand out, pretending to cover your mouth to stifle the laughs.

“It’s my father. Apparently, he gave directions to make sure I didn’t drink tonight.” You smile apologetically to the servants cleaning up the mess.

“I have an important meeting tomorrow,” you add, and the people begin laughing nervously and in relief. “-you know my father,” you quip and the laughter after that seems more relaxed. Crisis averted, you internally pat yourself on the back.

Most of the drink is already spilled all over the ground, but just to seal the deal you smile reassuringly to everyone nearby again before just completely trashing it, dropping the entire glass and all in the trash can without a second thought.

❀

The rest of the night goes by quickly- mainly since you ask jeno to take you home asap, and he quickly obliges. When he drives off, he shifts his gaze over to you. He can’t read the expression on your face as you stare straight ahead at the road.

“Are you okay?”

You exhale, looking at jeno. “Honestly? I have no idea.” A beat passes before you speak up again.

“But thank you for saving my life, again.”

Jeno swallows. He’s familiar with this. You’re doing it. Deflecting.

The sound of your hand slamming against the side of the car door almost makes him jump. He looks at you, concerned. There’s a determined expression he sees on your face, one he hasn’t seen often- if not at all.

“I’m not doing this anymore.”

He almost has a heart attack the moment you say that. “What-“

“I’m done being scared. I’m done pretending I’m okay and that nobody is trying to kill me, and I’m done doing nothing about it.”

You press your lips together. “Jeno,” you state firmly. The car rolls to a slow at the stop sign. “Did you happen to see who it was?”

He bites his lip, almost ashamed. “No. It was a man. Dark styled hair, gray suit. All I got was his backside, I’m sorry y/n.”

“No,” you shake your head. “That’s good. That’s better than nothing. But,” you fidget, wanting to curl up into a ball, “Why would anyone try to do this to me?”

Jeno tilts his head, “Most likely it’s someone trying to get to your father through you. Don’t worry, we’ll report it and find whoever’s behind it if there’s one at all.”

“Right.” Your head falls against the window with a thud. “This is annoying.” Jeno and you share a look, a grin coming up on both of your faces.

“Well, all I can say is that I’m impressed by your cover-up. It’s just like you were a professional actress in a movie. You handled that very well,” he speaks up.

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck, and you clear your throat. “Thanks,” you mutter. Jeno cocks his head. This isn’t the first time you’ve reacted like this.

He calls your name, and your head shoots up. “yeah?”

“Do you always get this flustered when I compliment you?”

You scoff exaggeratedly, looking anywhere but at jeno’s face. “Yeah, right.” You cringe, your sudden voice crack really did you dirty.

Jeno bites the inside of his cheek to suppress the smile and laughter that so desperately want to bubble out of him.

❀

This is bad. This is very bad.

It seems as if jeno is taking advantage of this newfound weakness against you, and you do not appreciate it one bit. You enjoyed holding the power over him, but now that he can make you become the sweatiest, stuttering mess in the room when you were specifically trained to not do that since you were (basically) born, it makes you wonder if you took it for granted.

“You look pretty today.”

“Your hair smells so nice.”

The one time he called you princess you swear you almost fainted.

And the worst part is?

You have no clue why this occurs. Your body simply reacts without thinking. It makes you want to pull your hair out and keeps you up all fucking night long.

Jeno’s cocky smirk shows up in your nightmares or in reality, dreams.

“Hey, y/n,” he asks one day. You hum in response. “Who’s that one friend of yours that works here?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Chaeryeong?”

If you would have bothered to look up, you would have seen the cockiest and most mischievous smile on jeno’s face. “Right, that one. I just thought she was pretty,” he states casually, preparing for your reaction.

Your pen falls flat on the table. Your eyebrow twitches. Three, four, five seconds pass.

“What?” You ask in the quietest, calmest voice Jeno has ever heard since he’s met you.

Was it just him or did the temperature in the room drop three degrees?

He looks so innocent you don’t know if you want to punch him or hug him as a five-year-old would do to a teddy bear. “Hm? I just said she was pretty, that’s all. Right? I mean, she’s your friend.”

“Yeah, right…” you reply, distracted. Jeno counts five seconds, pretending to walk off a little way.

You let out a huge scoff, suddenly scribbling furiously in your notebook like you did the first week you met jeno.

“…are you okay, y/n?”

“Perfectly fine,” you respond with gritted teeth. You weren’t bothered at all. You didn’t care about jeno at all. No, none. Nothing. You don’t care about the fact that jeno and chaeryeong would look so good together and no, you don’t fucking care at all.

You hear small snickers off to the side, and you glare furiously at jeno before he quiets down.

It’s not until you wake up in the middle of the night at 2 am with a horrible pillow head that you realize it.

That fucker’s been doing it on purpose.

Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, name it and Jeno has seen you wear it before. You undoubtedly possessed one of the most extravagant wardrobes with pieces from famous designers all over the world. Decorated with expensive, rare crystals and accessories that probably cost more than jeno’s life and worn all on you like it was nothing.

But it was never like this.

No one can deny your beauty, radiating from every part of you. It’s always been there, only today the clothes you wear make it even more noticeable. Your bold, sleek (and quite revealing) dress paired with sharp high heels. The first thing that catches jeno’s eye is your hair, styled up high so delicately that makes him think it must’ve taken at least 3 hours.

They all make a huge dent in Jeno’s shield.

The whole day he was told that you were busy, and now he suddenly understands why, gulping. “W-where exactly are we going again?”

You smirk, pretending to act innocent although nearly the whole room stares at you in shock. “A cocktail party. I have to meet a potential partner.”

Jeno’s too dumbstruck to ask you what kind of partner (and he later regrets it.)

Alright, so maybe the idea popped in your head soon after your father informed you that a potential business partner was attending the party later today. It gave you an excuse to get dolled up- who doesn’t like to do that every once in a while? Besides, there was no way you would pass up an opportunity to catch jeno off guard.

❀

This strange, foreign feeling that derives from the bottom of his stomach and rises up his throat makes him sick. It forces jeno to want to punch a wall or anyone nearby, and he almost obliges. More than once, the wine glass in his delicate hand almost shatters and he doesn’t drink. Jeno hasn’t, and he most certainly will not, but he’ll accept anything to just ground him, ground him before he does something he’ll definitely regret.

Bodyguards weren’t allowed in private rooms. Jeno can only stand outside the door, pacing back and forth as he tries to identify what this horrid sensation is. The only thing that reaches his ears is the sound of your laughter. Pressing his ear against the door in an attempt to eavesdrop (he was that desperate apparently), produced no results when the only noise was your soft murmurs muffled by the door. Your giggles were ones that he got to hear, not whoever this “potential partner” of yours should even deserve.

It just irks him. That’s it. His worst fears come to light when he recalls this afternoon. You look ready to kill in that attire of yours, and your mention of a partner.

There’s no way…

marriage?

The glass in his hand cracks and it immediately breaks his stupor. He awkwardly places it down before he does any more damage. Anything, jeno does anything ranging from squats to lunges to distract his wild mind. Until finally, the door opens and in a split second, he’s back to his formal self. One man walks out, then another, and finally one last one who waits for you to shake your hand politely before bowing and heading off with the others.

He tries, hard, to pretend he’s unbothered, but his eyes flicking back between you and the leaving men reveal his true intentions. Still smiling, you sigh contently before greeting your bodyguard.

“How,” his voice is gruff and scratchy from not having used it for a while, and he swears your smile grows just the teeniest amount, “how was it?”

You start walking at a casual pace, dress flowing behind you as jeno deftly avoids stepping on it while following. You could get used to this.

“Good.” Suddenly, you turn around to face him. Taking a step closer to jeno creates a ripple effect as he takes a step back, and another one, and another until shit- the wall’s there.

You search jeno’s eyes, unwavering no matter how close your body gets to his. You’re much taller with those heels, jeno notes as he avoids eye contact.

Keeping a distance you deem appropriate between your bodies, you lean the slightest in, and jeno gets a whiff of your sweet perfume- it’s almost sickening as he pleads for his eyes to stay open. Jeno prays that someone walks past the corridor so you’ll step back, give the man some room to breathe, but it seems that he’s out of luck.

Your voice is so full of fake concern, even he can see through it.

“Are you alright?” you look at him from under your eyelashes. His nod is almost indiscernible as you lean in closer, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sure?”

He chokes out a ‘yes,’ and you finally take it, stepping away. You pretend you don’t see his sigh of relief and give him a couple of breather seconds.

“So,” he finally gets out, “who was that?”

You feel giddy. Exiting the party into the chilly night, you shiver before shooting him a look. “No one important. Why? Are you jealous?”

Jeno actually scoffs at that, shoving his hands in his suit pockets. “Yeah, right. I don’t care at all who- but uh, if it’s really a mar-“

You continue walking, allowing the smile to break fully on your face. “It was just a potential business partner for our upcoming exhibition. No need to get jealous, Jen.” He stops walking at that. You can hear the lack of footsteps and turn around, crossing arms to keep in the heat. That’s when jeno notices. His eyes rake over you, and suddenly, the cold doesn’t bother you. Jeno sniffs, looking away as he grumbles, “Then there was no need to wear all that..”

A puff of air leaves your mouth as you laugh, visible in the frosty air. You open your mouth to respond but your lips part without any sound leaving. The feeling of jeno wrapping his suit jacket around you has your blood-chilling even more if that was possible.

“Come on, let’s go home, y/n.” When he receives no response, he turns to find you as still as a statue, staring off into the distance. He squints. Are you blushing?

His hand waving in front of your eyes allows you to unfreeze, jeno’s concerned face coming into focus. “Why is your face red?”

“What?” You jolt, “N-no it isn’t,” you lie, although you quickly start hitting your cheeks as if it would magically will them to stop.

“You know doing that is only going to make it worse,” he remarks, amused.

“Stop being a smartass and drive me home, will you?”

He salutes jokingly. “Anything for the missus,” and you push his shoulder playfully.

❀

It’s nearing the Christmas season. For you to get into the spirit, there’s only one thing that you do every year. An unbreakable rule, a small self pat on the back for all the hard work you’ve done this year.

Of course, it’s splurging-

on yourself.

Jeno rolls his eyes at the sight of you. You couldn’t decide between an orange Hermes bag or a Gucci handbag, so you weigh the two options in front of him, frowning. Both ridiculously expensive that he doesn’t bother looking at them.

“Which one looks better on me?”

“Both.”

You pout, “Come on, I’ve been switching back and forth for two hours now.” You continue, “the orange looks better with my-“

Two hours too many, his eyebrow twitches as he tunes out the rest of your words. Puffing out a breath of exasperation, he pinches his nose ridge. “You look the prettiest, alright? So don’t go asking me anymore because either doesn’t compare to you…” he trails off in frustrated mutters while pinching his nose bridge.

You fall silent.

❀

The gift is held out, a dainty box with a glittering silver bow wrapped around it. While jeno was answering a call, you quickly ran off to the designated store that had been in your sights since the moment you arrived at the shopping centre. Having brought proper disguise to wear this time, you felt safe enough entering without him.

Jeno’s eyes widen in surprise. “What’s this?”

You shrug. “Just something for coming along with me today,” and before he can say anything, you swiftly intercept, “I know you’re forced to since it’s your job, but really.” You glance down at the ground in embarrassment. “It’s a thank you gift, so I won’t allow you to return it.”

He holds the box in his hand, admiring the packaging. Throat dry, he swallows before opening it.

A pristine silver watch presents itself to him, almost mockingly- something he could never afford. Reading the brand, he grasps a rough estimate of the cost, and honestly, jeno can’t expect less from you. It’s beautiful, yes, and he’s been needing a new one for a while now, but…

“Y/n, you know I-“

You raise a hand out to effectively stop him. “None of that. I won’t have any of it.”

He presses his lips together, examining the watch once more as it ticks silently, the sleek finish gleaming against the streetlights. “Okay then,” his voice floats over to you softly, “thank you, y/n.”

“I owe my life to you-”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s my duty, and… I never want to see you hurt.”

You nod, replying with a tender, “I know.”

And with that, you quickly bid him goodnight with a pacing heart.

❀

Your father calls you early in the morning to his office. You’re greeted by his stern expression, a usual that you’ve come to expect. But what you don’t expect is to see jeno sitting across from you, akin to the first day you met him. The look on jeno’s face makes you stop in your tracks. His hands rest on his knees, hands clasped firmly together as his eyes stare at the floor and the floor only- the unreadable expression makes you frown unconsciously.

Your father calls out your name, and you bow with your gaze still focused on jeno.

“Why… why did you call for me?”

The CEO lets out a long, heaving sigh. “I’ve been thinking. After I found out about your spiked drink at the party three weeks ago, a suggestion was made that we obtain a proper squad -a team of bodyguards- to protect you. Lee Jeno is a fine man,” he pauses to glance at the unmoving silhouette, “but it seems that more protective measures need to be taken.”

You get the underlying message. Everyone knows, Jeno doesn’t work with others. That means replacing- you fucking hate the word- him with a whole squad just to watch over you all the time.

You tense. “What are you implying about Jeno? Are you saying that he can’t protect me? Father, that’s completely absurd. He has been trained-“

“You know very well that’s not what I have said.”

You bite your lip. “And therefore? Jeno has been protecting me since day one, and he will continue to. I allowed you to hire me bodyguard, how much more do you want from me?“ your eyes flicker to jeno. “I put my faith in you to trust Jeno wholeheartedly and have done so. Don’t tell me false lies without thinking of your daughter.”

At that, Jeno is stunned. For once, he looks at your asserted figure, unable to move until you call out his name, instructing him to follow you out of the room. Jeno follows you silently as you cross the hallway into an empty staff room. He patiently waits for you to speak up.

There’s so much you want to say, and no words to put it into effect. You turn around, and he automatically notices the storm brewing in your eyes. That conflicted look makes him want to bury you in his arms. He does.

The wind is knocked out of you, body freezing in his warm embrace. Eventually, your arms come to wrap around his waist. Your head falls to lay on his shoulder, and it feels way too natural to make sense. “Jeno…”

“Y/n.”

“You’re not going. I’m not letting you.” You pull back, letting him see the sincerity in your eyes, and he does, adam’s apple bobbing slightly. Then a certain thought strikes your head, and you quickly release him, embarrassed.

“Unless- you, unless you want to stop being my bodyguard.”

He frowns. “I never said that,” he quirks an eyebrow, and you sigh in relief. He places a hand on your shoulder and you meet his gaze. “Don’t worry y/n, I’ll never leave your side.”

The evident happiness shown in your eyes is enough to make him happy too. Perhaps it’s the new environment you’re placed in or the situation that just occurred, but it’s almost as if a filter was placed over jeno’s eyes when he looks at you. His eyes can follow your every action and he becomes conscious of your remaining warmth that came from being pressed against him. Your outfit, hairstyle, scent, all feel so fresh to him. He wants to shake it off- it’s somewhat overwhelming.

After seeing you stand up for him, stand up against your father, it’s like a switch flipped and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

❀

The long-awaited holiday of the year is coming up, and Jeno soon realized the extent to which he desperately needs to buy gifts. Desperately so, or else his friends would beat him up. Not that they could or he would let them, but jeno’s generally known in the friend group for lagging behind due to his work schedule, and he’s determined to make a difference this year. Jeno doesn’t have much time off- barely any at all, but the one day he does, a sense of loneliness washes over him. The one day he convinces himself to go out to buy presents, the reluctance of being alone stops him and before he knows it, his phone is dialing a number- your name flashing on the screen.

The rush of delight that fills him when you almost immediately agree unnerves him. Before hanging up, jeno quickly reminds you to cover your identity- mask up, wear a hat, do whatever- and you reluctantly comply. You don’t question who or what he’s buying gifts for, you just tag along.

At the crowded shopping plaza, the festive cheer fills the air, and finally, it sets in. Jeno grabs your hand instinctively as you weave through the crowd. You go through a total of six stores until jeno feels satisfied with all his gifts. You helped him pick out an ugly sweater and he swore he’s never laughed harder than at your expressions of surprise and confusion from all the bizarre patterns. "Why do people like to wear these... kinds of clothes?" you wonder out loud, and he bursts out laughing.

Before you leave, there seems to be a band playing celebratory music in the center of the plaza, and you can’t help but drag jeno across to the growing crowd that listens. Finding a good spot near the back of the crowd just for safety measures, you and jeno stand there. He silently watches you bounce along to the music, body swaying back and forth as you listen in glee. Chuckling, he almost glances away until he hears your voice. A strange man stands to the left of you, leaving over to ask you a seemingly harmless question. It really shouldn’t bother Jeno, but an unsettled feeling unnerves him as you answer casually, quiet enough he can’t hear what you said. Still, he stays silent.

That’s when he catches the man’s hand and glint reflecting across the light, the distance between his knife and you decreasing. Instinctively, Jeno lunges forward and grabs your arm to pull you to him quickly as he tries to get between the two of you. It all happens in a split second- in one moment he’s wide-eyed and springing forward and the next he’s gripping onto you tightly, almost shaking your body as he questions you. For a minute he thinks you’re fine, your wide and flustered eyes staring back at him as you hold just as tight onto his tensed arms.

Then he follows your eyes, your very eyes that trail down to your side, and his blood runs cold. He sees the blooming patch of red, and immediately he whips around to find the damned culprit but there’s no one. You stumble, and that’s when Jeno begins to panic, no longer caring as he yells out to the people around you to call for an ambulance.

The last thing you remember before blacking out was jeno’s eyes shining with alarm and distress as he calls out your name.

❀

This may be the first time Jeno’s completely out of his senses. His leg bounces in front of him as he clasps his hands together, praying that you’re okay. The hospital is mainly quiet, the noise dying down after the couple of hours that have passed since you were admitted. Once the sound of footsteps approaches him, he jumps up to see the doctor, waiting with a neutral expression.

You’re going to be okay. You’re alive and well. It was just the situation and sight of blood that must’ve caused you so much shock that you fainted. Fortunately, you were pulled away by jeno enough so that the knife wasn’t able to impale you- jeno nearly gags- but only leave a long scratch that ran across your side. It was enough to keep you in the hospital for a set amount of days, but nothing that would impair you. Jeno isn’t allowed to see you yet, and he goes to testify to the police and your father. It pains him to describe the scene in detail- the sickening man who did that to you, but he finishes one way or another. Jeno knows it’s deeper than this, there’s more to this and he’s had a feeling for a while. All he’s told is that your father is keeping the situation quiet in order not to arouse the public media (although it obviously has) and that a private investigation surrounding the attempted murders is ongoing. Jeno’s left to sit in the cold hospital waiting room, alone with his thoughts and feelings.

He feels the guilt breaking him- he’s the one who made the promise and he couldn’t protect you.

The first time he saw you, his eyes almost well up with tears. No matter how much you’ve been through, how much you’ve suffered- you’re always so strong. Your gentle smile and tired eyes tear his heart even further. Jeno states your name quietly, trudging closer. You pat next to you, implying for him to come closer. Where does he even start?

“I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. If only I had-“

“Why are you apologizing?” You stare at him with an incredulous look, and he blinks.

“What do you mean why? You got stabbed, y/n. I wasn’t fast enough so you got hurt and now you’re here, in the hospital.”

“Are you serious? Or is this some kind of joke?”

Jeno can’t believe it. Was it the medication making you loopy? “You’re hurt. I couldn’t even do my job properly and he was right there-,” he clenches his fists and lowers his face in regret.

Your warm hand placed on top of his gets him to shut up. He looks up and sees your tiny smile, hidden with a secret emotion he can’t discern. “Jeno,” you say.

“Stop looking at this,” you gesture to your wound, “and start looking at this.” You open your arms wide, showing you in all your glory- including the dumb hospital gown and iv drip attached to your arm. Your eyes soften. “You saved my life, and I’m only here because of you. Think of how much worse it could have been,” you press and he doesn’t say anymore or want to imagine anything more.

“Okay, y/n. Just please forgive me for breaking your trust. You put your faith in me and-

You roll your eyes stubbornly. “I forgive you, now please stop with that depressing talk. I’m completely fine and honestly more irritated at the fact that I have to stay here confined while everyone gets to do exciting stuff.”

“Chaos happening at the office because of your almost death isn’t exciting- at least, I don’t find it to be,” he jokes, finally feeling the mood lighten. You scoff.

Your father spending most of the time conferring with the police and media sources instead of visiting you at least once could mean more or less to you at this point.

He scoots his chair closer to your hospital bed. “You’re not… bothered by him? It’s like your own father and only family doesn’t even care for your safety, just the public’s opinion on the company.”

You manage a tiny shrug in order not to mess with your stitches. “That’s just how it is when your father is the CEO of the largest shareholding company in the country.” You look down to fiddle with your fingers. “Besides, I don’t know what I’d do if he did care.”

That’s when Jeno realizes how alone you are. You have friends but they have their own appointments. You have family but they never visit. Jeno resolves to make up for all of the absences in your life.

❀

You’re surprised by how much Jeno stops by and keeps you company at the hospital. Without fail, he brings snacks or random stories every visit. He’s not officially on duty since you’re restricted to the hospital, but he still tells you the happenings at the office, or which two workers have been revealed to be secretly dating (and every time you clap your hands together and yell “I knew it!”), or sweet messages from co-workers that aren’t able to visit you in person. And, the update on the case. They got the guy who stabbed you- the same one who tried to poison you that one night, and it makes Jeno feel a little better. For now, the motive is just trying to get to the CEO by using you and he hopes the police stick with it.

“You know,” you speak up one afternoon, “you don’t have to be here. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get a break from being my bodyguard and seeing me 24/7.” The look Jeno sends you in response effectively shuts you up.

On the days you force him not to come in or he’s reached the maximum limit of visiting you for the week- stupid, he knows- he sends you messages that leave a smile on your face and your heart fluttering.

❀

Well, this a certainly a predicament you would have never thought to find yourself in. Jeno’s foot taps the floor in a random beat as he recounts the drama that occurred at the office today. Your eyes keep slipping towards the simple clock on the wall, and you feel your palms grow increasingly clammy. Jeno, of course, takes note of this. You always listen intently to his stories, so the one time he feels the absence of your gaze on him, he knows something is wrong.

“What is it?”

You almost jump. “Huh?”

He purses his lips together, “Something’s bothering you.” Internally, you debate the consequences of revealing the issue. Would you regret this? And then you remember you have almost been murdered multiple times. This one thing couldn’t possibly kill you, right?

You take a deep breath. “The nurse said that today, I could finally change into my normal clothes and you know how much I hate wearing this stupid hospital gown.” You bite your lips and jeno’s eyes subconsciously follow the action. “But it’s four o’clock and she still hasn’t come in to help me so… couldyoupossiblyhelpmetakethisoff?”

As if realizing what you just said out loud, you shoot your gaze to the nearby window in the room, heat filling your body. Silence permeates the room and you so desperately wish you could reverse time and keep your damn mouth shut. Why, of all times, do most hospital gowns not have zippers, and the one you’re currently wearing does?

“You know what, forget-“

“Okay.”

You speak at the same time. You whip towards him. His ears are flushed red as he avoids your gaze awkwardly.

“I-I won’t look, I’ll-“

You blink, a sudden feeling of helplessness rising within. “I know. I can’t reach it because of my stitches so can- can you just unzip the…”

“Y-yeah, I got it.”

You hold your breath as he approaches you, fingertips delicately placed near the top of your back. His hands hesitate before softly reaching for the zipper, pulling down slowly. You can feel the coldness of his fingers seep into your back but you grit your teeth and mention nothing, heart pounding.

“I promise I’m not looking anywhere like that,” he mutters while zipping it down further. You reassure him that it’s fine before shivering when his cold fingers come in contact with your bare shoulder to help take the gown off. There’s this sudden urge to turn around to face him, but it’s practically impossible in your current state, so you close your eyes instead and focus on your breathing. He stills for a second, but his eyes can’t help but slowly get pulled into your wound now in plain view, and he swallows. Luckily, most of your body is covered still by the gown, but he still sees the broad amount of smooth skin that wasn’t attacked or worked on.

Jeno whispers a soft, “I’m done.”

The door clicks open noisily and your heads both whip towards the source of the sound. A nurse stands there, one hand on the clipboard and another still on the door handle, observing the scene.

“It’s not-“

“I wasn’t doing anything, I…“ he splutters.

Excuses and explanations fill the air until eventually Jeno feels it’s best to leave and he practically dashes out of the room. You can only sit there, astounded.

The nurse clears her throat, “Well then, I guess I’ll finish helping you change.” You nod wordlessly.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

You jump and it stretches your stitches, causing a wince to erupt out of you as the nurse calms you. “Oh my, I didn’t mean to startle-“

“It’s fine,” you mumble distractedly, apparently more preoccupied with the aforementioned thought. Does jeno look like your boyfriend? Has the media noticed and misunderstood? Was there even something to misunderstand about?

❀

December 25. AKA, Christmas Day.

You receive the green light from the doctors to go home. After expressing your uttermost gratitude to the doctors and nurses that took care of you, you feel the rising excitement at the prospect of finally returning home. You get to see your grandmother who wasn’t able to visit with duties at your penthouse and all your friends consumed by work.

And there was one other person. The one that you wanted to see the most, but you sent him home. It was Christmas- there was absolutely no way you would make him work, forced to stay next to you the whole day. (although, he wouldn’t be complaining, and neither would you.) You remember commanding him to stay home the night before, Christmas Eve, and celebrate with whoever he wanted. No matter how pleased you were when he protested, you make him promise to not worry about you and enjoy the day off.

“It’s Christmas, Jen.”

“Yes, but…”

“Go home and stop worrying so much- at least for one day, okay?” Your thumb softly smooths out his furrowed brow. “For me?”

Reluctantly, he responds, “Fine. As long as you promise to text me tomorrow night.”

You beam. “Of course, I promise.”

On the other side of town, Jeno checks his phone anxiously. He swears his anxiety (or possible separation issues?) has never been this bad.

“Dude, how many times are you gonna check your phone?” Haechan snorts, jumping over the couch to plop down next to him. “Every time it goes off you’re scrambling for it like you’re in the Hunger Games or whatever.” He slides even closer, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and jeno grimaces.

“Could it be," he taps his chin cheekily, "your secret girlfriend?”

When jeno’s ears turn red and he doesn’t respond, haechan’s eyes grow wide, contrary to Jen’s belief. “No way, is it actually? I was just joking but-“

“Leave him alone,” Mark shakes his head helplessly. “It's probably his work- you know he’s always on call. Give him a break,” mark finishes while leaving haechan to splutter and jeno to heave a sigh of relief.

Although jeno agrees with you, it was nice to finally see his friends and have a day off while celebrating Christmas, he can’t help but wonder what you’re up to. How are you? Are you home now? Are you alone- who’s celebrating with you? Is he the only one thinking this much about you?

Hours later, jeno finally returns home before midnight. His excuse to his friends? He had to wake up early tomorrow to work. Lame, yes, but he needed to see you. He exhales, finally in solitude after spending the whole day with his rowdy friends. Throwing his jacket on the couch, he lays on the bed before taking out his phone.

His stomach flips- two unread messages from you.

[11:38 pm] you: Hey jen

[11:38 pm] you: How was your Christmas?

[11:40 pm] jeno: it was good!

He sighs while typing out a response, before shaking his head and backspacing to write another.

[11:42 pm] jeno: are you free

[11:42 pm] you: Right now?

[11:42 pm] jeno: uh

[11:43 pm] jeno: yeah

If any bystander were to see the scene in front of them, they would almost believe it was a clip playing from a k-drama. Jeno smiles shyly, giggling at his phone as if he was a teenager talking to their crush.

[11:46 pm] you: Yeah, I’m free ❤️

Jeno gasps audibly, placing a hand on his chest as he lights up like a little child. No way, you sent a heart?

[11:46 pm] you: Sorry!

[11:46 pm] you: That was a typo…

He quite visibly deflates at your text. He presses his lips together in a thin line while his fingers briskly move across the screen.

[11:47 pm] jeno: then ill see you outside your place in 5 min?

[11:48 pm] you: Sure ❤️

Beaming at your next message, he throws his phone haphazardly somewhere while getting ready as fast as possible, scrambling all over his apartment.

[11:48 pm] you: That wasn’t an accident this time ;)

His breath floats away from him in the cold air, coming out in visible puffs while he runs towards your apartment building. It’s never once felt that long of a walk with you, but now it seems as if it stretched on for miles.

His legs come to a stop once he sees your figure just feet away. It’s far enough that you could barely shout to each other, but enough to see the expression on your faces. A wide split grin, eye-smiles, sparkling pupils, cheeks protruding so much it hurts.

It’s been a while. It’s taken a while, too. Jeno finally sees you. He finally sees your rarity-the one lone, twinkling star in the sky- and he never wants to lose it. The time it’s taken to build up the courage over fear is uncertain, but the sight of you in a matching set of purple pajamas with cute designs printed all over and is that his suit jacket that you’re wearing? Either way, he’s certain he can’t hold it back anymore (and probably couldn’t for much longer).

“I don’t think I can run right now,” you call out, and he laughs from his spot. Jeno looks on as you hold your arms open wide, so welcomingly, and he runs.

Right as he reaches you, he purposefully slows to embrace you in a gentle hug without hurting you.

“Welcome back, y/n,” he murmurs into your hair. You squeeze tighter, inhaling his comforting scent. Pulling back after a couple of moments, jeno looks down at your choice of outfits. “Wow,” he breathes, “you look beautiful.”

You raise an eyebrow. “In my pajamas?” He nods. “Of course.”

You look away, face burning, but the white powdery substance falling onto your face grabs your attention. Your head shoots up, as you look on delightedly. “Jeno! Look!”

He can only stare at you admiring the snowfall with a red nose and bright, twinkling eyes. You glance towards him, catching him in the middle of staring at you. You call his name out. Jeno bites his lip, taking one of your hands. Your face turns to one of confusion at the sudden change of atmosphere.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?” He pulls you closer, taking in a deep breath before looking into your eyes.

“You mean a lot to me. Like, a whole fucking lot.”

Your eyes widen. Alarmed at the sudden confession, you bring your two cold hands up to hold his face, searching his eyes with a question hidden on your tongue.

On impulse, jeno leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. At first, you can’t move, only noting the warm and foreign sensation on your lips. Then it hits you.

Why aren’t you pushing him away? …why doesn’t it feel wrong?

At the lack of a response, jeno pulls back. You stare at each other for a second before he opens his mouth to say something, and you cut him off.

“Kiss me again,” you command, and he enthusiastically does. His arms wrap around you as you grip the sides of his jacket in your cold fingers, allowing warmth to envelop you both inside and out. The taste of his lips on yours becomes addicting, and you force yourself to stop.

Breaking part, you share bashful smiles. Jeno swallows.

“Merry Christmas, y/n. I didn’t really think about getting you a gift but….” he trails off.

You giggle, “Merry Christmas, and me neither.” You beam at each other, the unspoken feelings shared between you two.

“How do you feel?” Jeno asks, bringing you close to him as he admires the tiny snowflakes resting on your eyelashes.

Although it’s freezing outside, and there’s a big fat chance you could get caught by paparazzi right now, you could care less. You can’t help but reply with a tiny smile,

“i think i’m okay right now.”

p.s. there will be an epilogue released jan 28 ;))

[latinokaeya-moving]

a couple months ago my dad bought over my little sister from colombia presumably so they could spend more time together n to let her visit the uk. she’s now currently enrolled in a school near where she’s living (my dad has a british passport so she’s entitled to it, and they want her to improve her english) w her mum, who obviously came with her bc my little sister is still a kid. dunno what the document situation is with her mum but she doesn’t know english so she’s naturally been set up to work in cleaning w help from my dad bc that’s what my entire family has been in since they arrived in the country.

anyways that’s all to say my little sister’s mum and i currently work in the same building together (albeit on different floors), and left at the same time today, so we talked for a little bit as we walked towards the bus stop, and even though it was perfectly polite and easy convo (i asked how my little sister was doing in school, reassured her she’d probably be fine w the language thing and that she’ll pick it up quickly) i couldn’t help but think towards the end of the conversation as we were saying goodbye hey. you’re the lady my dad was with when he cheated on my mum huh. you’ve come OVER to our house so that we could meet my little sister for the first time and looked my mum in the eye. my dad once took us all to have pizza together. isn’t this so fucking weird

having many thoughts abt cheating recently i guess

[clairecrive]

Hi could we please get a really angsty fic with nikolai (with a happy ending pls) where reader and he has had a fight so they maintain the facade on the outside bc they're royals but in private it's just ignoring each other/angst?

Young Royals

A/N: ahh, this is angsty alright but it seems I'm only capable of writing hurt/comfort lately. This took a life of its own and it's long af but I hope you like it anyway x

Warnings: miscommunication, angst, fighting, hurt/comfort, Nikolai is a bit absent, you're a bit jealous of his relationship with Zoya

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep,@lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld,@thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020,@partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"Do not put words into my mouth, Nikolai."

"Please, you already have so many, my love," he scoffed and the use of the term of endearment hurt the most.

"You're making me sound like a brat while I'm providing you with a viable solution," you insisted with a flare of your hands, frustrated by his unwillingness to listen to you.

"No, you're not. What you're doing is being childish."

"I'm your queen, Nikolai. I'm only asking to be more involved."

"You're my wife, y/n, and you know nothing about politics or running a country." He retired, putting emphasis on wife. This felt a lot like being put into place. And the fact that it was your husband doing so, hurt. It was also the most you had seen him this week.

"Neither did Zoya, nor Genya or anyone who's currently running the country."

"That's different and you know it."

"Only because you're making it so," you exclaimed finally exploding. His despondency got on your nerves and this conversation was going nowhere anyway.

Surprised by your raise of voice, Nikolai stood before you just blinking at you.

Sighing, you took a step toward him, holding your hands up, "look, you're right, I don't know about running a country but teach me. I'm not stupid, I'll pick it up."

"Why are you insisting so much? You've never shown any interest in politics before." He gave you a puzzled look like he didn't really believe your intentions.

"I've never wanted to be queen before." before meeting you.

"Ah, I see," he chuckled mirthlessly, "I put you in this situation and now you're taking your revenge."

To insinuate that your marriage with him was you "being put into a situation" rather than a consensual decision you had made out of love was absurd.

Nikolai was right. You had never cared about politics or diplomacy before meeting him. You were a soldier. There was no reason for you to meddle with something that didn't concern you.

But now you were queen and you felt a responsibility towards your people. You wanted to help but so far, Nikolai hadn't allowed you to take part in any meetings. He said that anyone who needed to be there was already involved. What he didn't tell you was that while Grisha made excellent soldiers and even good councillors, one of them being a royal was a very different matter.

He had indulged his love for you by marrying you. You were his vice and he simply couldn't accept the idea of being without you anymore. He had married you, consequently making you queen, going against what his advisors told him.

While he ignored his warnings he was painfully aware, however, how difficult it was going to be for a Grisha on the throne. It was the first time something liked this had ever happened and unfortunately, the country was filled with people who resented Grisha for their powers.

Nikolai feared that the people were never going to accept you. Hence why he'd been keeping you secluded in the palace.

To be fair, you were doing a wonderful job. Like he had pointed out, you were not accustomed to politics but you made up for that with empathy and kindness. You started to interest yourself with the problem of poverty and lack of provisions for some parts of the country.

And while no one was aware of it, Nikolai often turned to you for military strategy. You were an apt soldier and had fought bravely alongside him and everyone else in the battle of the Fold. You were the very reason why he was still alive, to be honest.

While this arrangement worked for the first months of your reign, it was starting to feel an inadequate effort. You needed to do more, you wanted to do more. You didn't expect Nikolai to oppose it so vehemently.

"If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be, Nikolai, you'd do well to remember it," you pointed out coldly, straightening your spine.

"Since you seem so adverse at spending time with me or including me in important matters, I'll find someone else who will." And with that, chin held high, you walked out of the room.

You missed him. It felt absurd to say this but you missed your husband. He was always busy with meetings or official visits to some noble across the country. For most of them, he went alone or with Zoya.

You knew that she was his first in command but you couldn't help but be bothered by it. It was one thing to accept the fact that he hadn't given the role to you "because the queen cannot have that role as well", it was a whole other thing to accept the fact that another woman spent more time with your husband than you did.

Countless were the fights you had with him in this regard. But they were pointless. Nikolai was still set on not bringing you and he and Zoya were always found together.

You didn't know what hurt more. The blow at your pride for being denied a position you deserved because of who you loved, the jealousy or being punished for your identity.

One thing was sure though, it was getting too much. At first, you pulled thought for Nikolai but now that you didn't have him anymore, your efforts seemed to be in vain.

So, like you had told Nikolai, you looked for someone who was willing to teach you. You wanted to help and if Nikolai wasn't going to let you here at the palace, then you'd find somewhere else.

Count Kirigin had always been nice to you and he was a very generous host. You knew that he played a central role in Nikolai's plan so you thought that there was no one better than him.

You reached out to him, wrote him a letter in which you showed interest in his activity and asked him if he was willing to show you. Of course, anything that came from the queen or the king couldn't be denied but you knew that the Count truly enjoyed your company. If your position didn't put so much higher than everybody else, you'd even consider him a friend.

You waited for his reply before putting in motion the preparations for your departure.

In the meantime, you and Nikolai kept conducting your separate lives. Usually, you'd only see him at night when he returned to your chambers if you were still up. Now, you had decided to sleep in separate rooms too.

If he wanted a wife, then a wife he'd get. But kings and queens do not sleep together.

If the new arrangement was bothering him, you didn't know. He hadn't reached out to you nor made any move to rectify your decision.

Turns out that he wasn't even at the Palace. He had left for a mission near the border with Shu Han and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Well, then. Of course, he didn't even bother with telling you. Not even a small note.

Jokes on him though, you thought, since when he was going to come back, he'd finally get what he wanted. You weren't going to be there to bother him anymore.

Differently from him though, you did indeed left him a note. Nikolai found it a week after you had set it on his pillow. Its presence made him furrow his eyebrows since he had already been wondering where you were. You usually came out to meet him at the gates whenever he'd come back from a mission and even though you had fought before he went away, you weren't one for holding grudges. So e guessed there was something holding you.

Unfolding the paper he was met with your familiar chaotic writing.

"I don't know when you're going to find this letter but if I'm not there yet it means that I'm still at Count Kirigin's. Do not bother with writing or visiting, I'll come back when my business with him is done.

Y/n"

What in the name of every sweet loving saint???

The letter wasn't dated, no dear, no yours no nothing. Fuck. You were still mad or worse, hurt.

Asking one of the servants, he learned that you had been away for a week already. But what business could you possibly have with the Count??

Nikolai had nothing against him. Seeing Kirigin get all flustered as he tried to flirt with Zoya amused him to no end but the idea of him and you in the same house? Alone?? Unacceptable.

Not even bothering to change clothes after his long journey, Nikolai headed to the stables to ask for a well-rested horse. Luckily, Count Kirigin's estate was not too far away. A couple of hours ride.

Turns out that the Count had a lot to teach. Despite his aloof reputation and extravagant clothes, he was very observant. He lacked ambition, which was why Nikolai trusted him and had a curious way of behaving in social situations.

But Emil had been born and raised in high society. He knew how things were run even if he had no desire to be in charge of them.

So far, you'd be having a wonderful time. Emil was a wonderful host, as you remembered, but without Nikolai's presence, he was even more extravagant. He had an unexpectedly dry sense of humour and a never-ending list of jokes.

Being in the open and in the company of someone who saw y/n instead of the Queen of Ravka proved to be even more needed than you thought. You felt reinvigorated and much lighter than you'd ever been.

You had also been learning a lot. Emil had been teaching you about diplomacy. About the best ways of formulating a sentence so that you wouldn't offend anyone but still get what you wanted. He had also been talking to you about your husband's ministers. About their weaknesses and vices and what was the best way to approach them to get what you wanted.

So far, it was proving to be a wonderful decision to come here.

Whenever your mind strayed on Nikolai, you willed it to focus on something else. You didn't know if he had already come home or seen the letter. A part of you thought that if he had, he would at least write one back. But the thought felt a lot like hope and seeing as how little he saw you even before you left, you didn't think it safe to harbour it.

When Nikolai reached the estate, he was met with Kirigin's servants. They welcomed him inside and profusely apologised for the Count's absence. They told him that at this time of the day, Kirigin and his guest would usually go out on a ride but that they were also about to return.

So Nikolai waited, sitting in the most comfortable chair the Count owned, fuming at the thought that his wife had felt the need to go away and be in the company of another man.

"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be Nikolai. You'd do well to remember it."

Your words haunted him. They were the last thing that you told him. How stupid had he been to let you walk away. How utterly careless of him to disregard you like that.

He had promised himself to truly talk to you about it once this pressing matter of state was taken care of. Apparently, he had waited too long.

But Nikolai knew that the problem was at the source. He noticed how hurt you had been when he made Zoya his first in command. Or how sad you seemed everywhere he went somewhere with her and didn't ask you to join.

He was doing so to protect you from the inevitable slander you'd be met with. He should have known though that putting you aside was going to be even worse. You were a fighter just as much as Zoya was, if not stronger.

She hid behind her veil of indifference and superiority while you had never lost that emphatic verve that made everyone love you so much. In his attempt to make you safe, he had only managed to hurt you.

You were a warrior. You had accepted the role of queen only because it was the only way for you to be with Nikolai. And instead of praising you by making you a warrior queen, he had decided to hide you away.

Well, no more.

If his mistakes had not ruined everything already, he was going to make everything better.

Lost in his musing, he didn't hear the sound of hooves approaching but he did indeed hear your laugh. It immediately brought him back to the present and a wave of ugly jealousy hit him.

He couldn't remember the last time he made you laugh.

"I shouldn't even laugh Emil, the joke was terrible," Nikolai hear you giggling from somewhere in the hall. So now he was Emil, huh.

"You know you can't resist my charm, your highness," Emil replied and Nikolai had to call on every bit of his self-control to not barge out of the room and punch him.

"Stop it, you know you can call me y/n."

Before Emil could reply, they had both made it to the sitting room where Nikolai was waiting for them. It looked like no one had warned them of his presence because Kirigin looked surprised then utterly mortified.

"Your majesty, I wasn't aware you were here. Please forgive me for making you wait."

"Don't fret Kirigin, it was an impromptu visit. I came to see how my lovely wife was doing." No matter how green he was feeling right now, he knew that Kirigin was loyal to him and the crown. Whatever was happening here wasn't one of his schemes.

"Of course! I'm going to send for some tea while you two get reunited." Kirigin quickly bowed before hurrying out of the room.

Nikolai met your eyes for the first time since you had arrived. If at first, you were surprised to see him, now you couldn't help but be a bit sceptical about this visit.

"What are you doing here?" you asked breaking the ice.

"You leave with only a few lines on where you're going and you expect me to just accept it?" He scoffed, his hands curling on the armrests of the chair.

"It's more than what you gave me," you quipped, crossing your arms on your chest.

Nikolai sighed while his gloved hands run through his hair. You were right and he knew it. He had been a horrible husband lately.

"I know you're mad at me, honey, but listen-"

"I'm not mad. You didn't want to give me what I wanted so I went looking for it somewhere else." Scrolling your shoulders, you interrupted him without meeting his eyes. A list of excuses was not what you wanted nor what you needed from him.

Nikolai didn't miss the innuendo. His jaw clenched, his hands closed in fists. But he willed himself to stay calm.

"You think Kirigin can give you something that I can't?" Nikolai was a master in diplomacy. Never did he get frustrated or angry or raised his voice, even with the most aggravating people. Here though, with you, he didn't have to keep a façade. He spoke through his teeth barely containing his anger.

"Well, so far, he's been giving me attention and interesting pointers that no, Nikolai, you refused to give me."

"So this is how you solve your problems? Running away in the countryside with Emil?" Nikolai sneered, his tone souring around Kirigin's name.

"Don't you do the same with your precious first in command?" Tired after your ride with Emil, you plopped down on the chair in front of Nikolai's. Completely ignoring his tone, you pointed out calmly. The perfect image of aloofness even when it was the last thing you were in this moment.

"That's different," he snapped trying to meet your eyes that were carefully analyzing your hands.

"Yes," you signed, "it seems that when I'm concerned everything is different."

"There's nothing between me and Zoya, y/n and you know it." Nikolai was getting more frustrated by the second. He came here to apologize, to make things right and so far, the conversation was going in the opposite directions.

"Maybe now, but you spend more time with her than you do with me. It's only a matter of time before it happens and you're sorely mistaken if you think I'll just stand by and watch."

"This is not about Zoya," he insisted but so far, he wasn't getting the reaction out of you he wanted. You seemed... resigned at the situation. And that worried Nikolai to no end.

"It never is."

"Why did you run away?" Opting for a more direct approach, he bit the bullet and went straight to the point.

"I did not run away," you scoffed in contempt at his choice of words, "I told you I wanted to do more and Emil is teaching me. Not everyone is so against spending time with me, you know." You shot him a glance.

It was the first time that you had looked at him since you had been left alone.

"I married you, y/n. How can you possibly believe I don't want to spend time with you?" As desperation slipped through his words, Nikolai leaned towards you in his seat. As if he couldn't bear the distance between you anymore. But you knew it wasn't that. You and he had been distant for months now.

"Because that's what's happening, Nikolai," you clipped back and Nikolai had to refrain from wincing at your tone.

"It's not intentional, my love, I've just been busy." His tone softened. It was a poor excuse of an apology but it was sadly the truth.

"But when I say that I want to join or help you with it you strongly oppose?" Again, there was that suspicious implication in your words that Nikolai just couldn't stand. To think that you believed he'd ever cheat on you with another woman when he had done so much, taken so many risks, to be with you.

"It's not what you think, y/n." He insisted again but immediately realized he had said the wrong thing when he saw you leaning back into your chair shaking your head.

"I don't think anything, anymore. Do whatever you want. You do your thing and I'll do mine. I won't be a bother to you anymore." Holding up your hands, you gestured as you spoke.

A beat. Nikolai froze in his seat at what you were suggesting.

"You're never a bother to me. Never." He leaned even forwards in his chair, basically only propping on it now. The desperation was now clear in his voice. He reached out to you to try and take hold of your hands but you were too distant.

"I love you more than anything in this world and if you think that I'm going to let you go without a fight, you're sorely mistaken." The steel determination of his words caught you off guard. Nikolai was strong-headed, you knew that better than anyone else, but it had been a long while since that determination had been directed to you.

"You already did." It was barely a whisper. The sad truth about your reality, the downfall of your relationship. The wavering of your voice, the pain in your eyes were enough to tip Nikolai off the edge.

"Milaya, please."He fell onto his knees in front of you. Leaning forward he reached for your hands that he could now hold. "I'm sorry. I put you in a difficult position when I married you and I tried my best to protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Nikolai, especially if it's by pushing me away."

"I was keeping you away from danger and I know that you're strong and capable but I hate to think of you as the object of public slander." His eyes darted between yours, frantic, desperate to make you understand.

"I'm Grisha, Nikolai. It's nothing new to me," you pointed out but then it hit you.

"By difficult position, you meant a Grisha Queen, didn't you?" Your eyes hardened at the implications, your hands going slack in his hold. You would have pulled them away if Nikolai didn't tighten his hold.

"Please, do not think I'm regretting my choice or I think you're not worthy of the title because that's not true." Pulling your hands, he tried to get you closer to him. "I fear that there will be repercussions among the people." And there it was, at last, the truth.

"And among your ministers," you added remembering Emil's lessons on the people at court and their role.

You scoffed when he stayed silent. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, my love."

"So Zoya can handle it and I can't?"

"For the millionth time," he groaned, "I don't care about Zoya."

"I only care about you and I know you can handle it. I just didn't want you to. You deserve happiness and peaceful life and I know it's impossible to have in this saints' forsaken country but I can at least try." His eyes lowered in shame and his confession sent a pang through your heart. You took a moment to take in what he said.

Never had you thought about the possibility of Nikolai's distance was a form of protection. You were a soldier of the Second Army, after all. But being a queen, especially a Grisha one, was a delicate thing.

It was the first time in history that something like this happened. Nikolai's worries were not unfounded since even after the destruction of the Fold, anti-Grisha movements were spreading fast.

It was sad to see the General's attempt of assuring safety for Grisha, provoking exactly the opposite thing.

"Oh, Kolya," returning his grip, you leaned towards him, "I just want a life with you by my side."

"As do I. I want you always and forever but above all, I want you safe. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know it right?"

"I just ask that you tell me the truth and let me play the role I've been given."

"It's not going to be easy. People at court-"

"I know. That's why I'm here. Emil's been teaching."

"Well, no more. I'm going to take care of it from now on."

"Is this a promise or a threat?"

"Rest assured my love, the difference between the two is almost nonexistent." He flashed you a smirk and you couldn't help but smile at him. Here it was, your beloved Nikolai.

"Things are going to change, aren't they?" you murmured softly as he gently rested his forehead against yours.

"We're going to show everyone what a "power couple" is." Here was his promise. Sealed with the gentlest nudging of his nose to yours. The action made you smile and your heart soar. You missed these little moments of intimacy with him.

One of his hands came to cradle your face as the other kept hold of your left hand. Your rings softly clicked as they touched. A form of reassurance.

"I love you, y/n."

"And I you, Kolya."

You were completely lost in your little bubble, even more so when Nikolai's lips finally met yours, that you had forgotten where you were. And that there was an embarrassed Kirigin outside the door waiting for the right moment to come in with tea.

[thelemontree]

Muscle Memory (Rafael Barba x Reader)

Paring: Rafael Barba x f!Reader

Summary: You hadn't seen Rafael in nearly three years. When he left—and shattered your heart in the process—you didn't think you'd ever recover. But now, just as you finally starting to feel like you might be okay, he waltzes right back into the SVU precinct, into your life, and fucks everything up.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, explicit language, canon typical rape mention (off-screen, no details), breakups + makeups, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, praise + dirty talk, mentions of a sex toy

A/N: Rafael Barba my beloved <3 my first SVU fic after being a long time reader! I love this show and I love Barba. Takes place during the episode "Sightless in a Savage Land." (Rafael Barba + a beard = my untimely death.) I was listening to Muscle Memory by Lights when I got the idea for this, so it's very loosely based on that song. Anyways, enjoy, and be prepared for more SVU fics in the future bc I am deep in that rabbit hole hehe.

The last time you ever saw or spoke to Rafael Barba was nearly three years ago, when he decided to leave both the DA’s office and New York City. And, in turn, you.

He asked you to go with him—begged you, really. Told you he loved you and couldn’t see a life without you. After years of casual flirting and simmering tension, you both realized how badly you wanted—no, needed—each other. At that point, you had been together for almost a year and you were completely, head-over-heels in love with him. You wanted to go with him, but you couldn’t leave your job at SVU and your life behind. As much as it hurt, you told him no. An explosive fight ensued and you both said things you’d later come to regret, but in the moment you were both too hurt to care. He stormed out of your apartment and slammed your front door behind him, leaving you a sobbing mess in your living room.

It took time, a whole lot of effort, and a little bit of booze along the way, but now you felt like you were finally in a good place. You were back to cracking jokes with Carisi, going out for girls' nights with Liv and Amanda, and Kat, the SVU newbie, even got you to consider starting to date again. You still missed Rafael, but the hurt had dulled over time, and you found yourself wanting to move on, once and for all.

All of that came crashing down, though, when you walked into work one morning and came face-to-face with Rafael, exiting Olivia’s office. When you saw each other, you couldn’t help the pained gasp that you let out. Hot tears started to well in your eyes at the soft look he gave you. The whole precinct seemed to come to a standstill—Amanda looked at you from her desk, concern etched on her face; Olivia looked a little guilty; Fin looked like he was waiting for a bomb to go off; and Kat’s eyes moved between you and Rafael, her brows drawn together in confusion before she finally realized what was happening.

Rafael breathed your name out in a pained whisper, and that’s all it took to break you out of your reverie. Before he could say anything else, you squared your shoulders and walked straight past him to your desk. You didn’t say a word to anybody as you got to work, focused solely on not letting yourself cry in front of everybody—especially him. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you and it made you want to scream.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Olivia place a hand on Rafael’s shoulder. She said something to him, her voice too quiet for you to know what it was, and he nodded his head solemnly. He looked over at you for a moment before he went to the elevators. Olivia turned to her squad of detectives, who were all still stunned from the quiet scene that just unfolded. With a small sigh, Olivia clapped her hands together, bringing everyone to attention.

“Back to work, everybody. We’ve got lives to save and people to protect.”

Reluctantly, your fellow detectives turned back to their work, but you could still feel their occasional glances your way. As Olivia walked past your desk to her office, she stopped and put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Want to come into my office for a minute, detective?”

You followed Olivia into her office, plopping down on her couch as she closed the door. You sighed, running your hands over your face. The tears were still threatening to fall from your eyes, and you did everything you could to will them back inside your tear ducts.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t expecting him to show up like that,” Olivia said, her voice apologetic. You looked at her and offered her a tired smile.

“It’s fine, Liv. I just… Was not prepared to see him again, not like this. Everything just came flooding back and hit me all at once,” you replied. “Why was he even here, anyway?”

Olivia sighed and shook her head. “When I heard he was in town, I asked him to meet up for coffee and may have suggested that he talk with Mickey Davis, just to hear his story and see if there was any way he could help him out. I didn’t think he’d take Mickey on as a client.”

You rolled your eyes at that. Rafael taking Mickey on as a client didn’t surprise you in the slightest. You didn’t blame the guy for killing his teenage daughter’s abuser—you probably would have done the same thing if you were in his position. And if you were in Rafael’s position, you would’ve been lined up to defend Mickey, too. But hearing Olivia say she didn’t expect him to take Mickey on did surprise you—she knew Rafael as well as you did and that he couldn’t just walk away from this once she brought him into it.

You weren’t mad at her, though. Just because you and Rafael had a rough break-up didn’t mean everyone else had to cut him out of their lives. You knew Olivia just wanted to help Mickey the best way she could, and you’d be damned if you didn’t agree that Rafael would be his best shot.

“Well, that makes sense, I guess. Can’t say I’m surprised,” you huffed. “At least I wasn’t on that case. Minimizes my interactions with him.”

Olivia chuckled. “Yeah, I guess there’s that bright side.”

You stood from her couch and gave her a small smile. You could tell she had more apologies in her, knowing how hard it must’ve been for you to see him so out-of-the-blue, but you waved her off before she could start. “Don’t worry about me, Liv. I’ll be fine. And I’m not mad. Honestly, if things were different, I probably would’ve gone to Rafael, too.”

You walked out of Olivia’s office and were relieved to find that everyone had returned to work as normal. Amanda looked up at you and gave you a reassuring smile, letting you know she was there for you if needed anything. Over the years, you and her had become two peas in a pod, and you were grateful to have a friend and a partner in her. You sat down at your desk and got to work going through your case files.

Your desk phone rang and you answered it, “Detective L/N, Manhattan Special Victims Unit.”

And now your work for the day has really begun.

***

You were dead on your feet by the time you got home. You and Amanda had picked up a new case—a rape victim found in Central Park—and spent a majority of the day working on that. Neither of you had gotten very far on it, which wasn’t unusual, but you always felt a little defeated when you went home at the end of the day with little to show.

When you stepped into your apartment, all you wanted was to take a hot shower, order take-out, and crash. After putting all your stuff away, you walked into your kitchen and pulled out the take-out menu for your favorite Chinese place. As you scanned the menu and thought about what you were going to order, there was a knock at your door. You looked up and scrunched your eyebrows together—you weren’t expecting company, and none of your friends were the type to just show up to your place unannounced, especially on a weeknight. With a sigh, you set the menu down on your counter and walked over to your front door. You looked through the peephole and took a surprised step back when you saw who was on the other side.

Rafael.

You stood there for a few moments, staring at your front door, too shocked that he was at your apartment to do anything. He knocked again, this time a little more insistently, and said, “I know you’re inside, Y/N. Please open the door.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. When you opened them, you lifted shaky hands to the locks on the door and undid them, slowly pulling it open. Without the hustle and bustle of the police precinct and the surprise of running into him at work, you could stand there and take him in. He looked different—a little bit older, a little bit grayer—but just as handsome as the last time you saw him. There was a pang of sadness in your chest. You were reminded then, standing in your doorway and just staring at each other, how much you still missed him.

“Hi,” he said lamely, breaking the silence. He looked just as nervous as you did, a hesitant smile visible behind his full beard. (You took note of his new feature a little ruefully—you had wanted him to grow out his facial hair, but he always told you, saying beards made him too itchy.) You stood there and stared at him for a second more before replying.

“Hi.”

Before, conversation always flowed so easily between the two of you. You hadn’t realized how much of a chatterbox Rafael was until you started dating, but you found it endearing. You liked hearing him talk about the things he was passionate about. Now, the uncomfortable silence felt so foreign, and it made you fidget.

“I, uh, I don’t know why I came here, to be honest,” Rafael said, clearing his throat. “After seeing you this morning, I just… I don’t know. I wanted to see you again.”

You felt your resolve start to crumble. You’d spent so much time trying to get over him, trying to move on with your life, and just when you felt like you were starting to get somewhere, he shows up out of the blue and wrecks it all. You wanted nothing more than to drag him into your apartment and pretend like the past three years hadn’t happened, that you were back to where you were before you broke each other’s heart.

Rafael must have taken your silence as disinterest rather than being at war with yourself internally. He sighed and shook his head, making to turn around and leave. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just shown up like this. I’m going to go.”

You felt panic rise up in you at the thought of him leaving again and before you could stop yourself, you said, “Wait! Don’t go. Come inside. Please.”

Rafael looked at you, surprise etched on your face. He hadn’t expected you to invite him in so suddenly, but he wasn’t about to let the opportunity to talk to you slip from his fingers. He nodded and stepped into your apartment. You closed the door and slipped the locks back into place before joining Rafael in the living room.

You cleared your throat and gestured to the couch. “You can, uh, sit down, if you want to.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure. Thanks.”

Rafael took a seat at the end of your couch and you moved to sit on the opposite end of it. Now that he was inside of your apartment, you didn’t know what to do, what to say. You hated how awkward and uncomfortable the air surrounding you two felt.

“I’m sorry,” Rafael blurted out after another few minutes of silence. He turned on the couch to face you, his eyes filled with tears and his face pulled into a grimace. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you the way that I did. I shouldn’t have stormed out of here and took off without another word. I was an idiot—such a fucking idiot—and I’m so sorry for hurting you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I fucked it all up.”

You scooted closer to him on the couch, taking one of his trembling hands in yours. The tears you had successfully kept at bay all day had started to fall, and you tried to steady your breathing to avoid breaking out into a full on sob. You looked up at him and broke when you saw his tears falling, too.

“Rafael,” your voice broke and you could barely get another word out. Looking back on the fight that ended your relationship, you knew you were both to blame for it. You were both cruel to each other, saying things you didn’t mean but knew would cut the other deeply. You called him selfish and accused him of not truly loving you if he expected you to give up your career just because he gave up his. He said the only thing you were capable of loving was your job and that you were his biggest mistake. It was messy and awful and you wished that you could take that night back.

He lifted his other hand to push your hair behind your ear and cup your cheek. “I still love you, Y/N. I never stopped.”

You couldn’t find the words to express what you were feeling. Instead of trying to articulate everything going on in your brain, you leaned forward and kissed him. You figured that if your words were going to fail you, you could just show him.

Rafael was surprised at the first brush of your lips against his, but he quickly warmed up. He kissed you back with equal fervor, tracing his tongue against your bottom lip. You moaned quietly into his mouth when you opened up and felt the first touch of his tongue against yours. His hand slid into your hair, pulling you even closer against him. You pushed him into the back of the couch and moved to straddle his lap, not once breaking the kiss.

The hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair ghosted up your front, his fingers lightly tracing your skin over your shirt. He took one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed it, grinning into the kiss at the sound of your resulting groan. He wrapped his arm around you, planting his hand in between your shoulder blades so he could pull you flush against him. There was virtually no space between the two of you anymore, and you couldn’t shake just how right it felt to be back in his embrace.

When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, you leaned your forehead against his, your eyes still closed. You breathed in each other’s air, both panting heavily. When you finally opened your eyes, you saw Rafael staring up at you, his eyes a mixture of tenderness and wonder.

“Bedroom?” you asked him shakily. He nodded his agreement, and you reluctantly pulled yourself off of him. When he stood from the couch, he took your hand in his, pulling it up to his lips. He kissed each of your knuckles, looking at you through his lashes the whole time. The moment was both incredibly intimate and arousing. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, your breaths were coming in short pants, and you were uncomfortably wet. He still knew how to get you riled up.

“Lead the way, cariño.”

You pulled him into your bedroom and once the door was shut behind you, you pulled him into another kiss. It was hot and desperate, all teeth and tongues. He gripped your hips tight enough that you know there’d be fingertip-shaped bruises in the morning. The thought sent a shiver through your body. He remembered how much you liked finding his marks on your body.

The next thing you knew, Rafael was gripping you even tighter as he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he turned and took the few steps over to your bed. He laid you down gently, settling himself in between your thighs. He ground down into you, and you could feel his hard cock through his slacks, and you broke away to whimper.

Rafael took the opportunity to start peppering kisses over your cheek and jawline. He moved down to your throat, sucking and nipping at the base of it. You gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking up against his, and he groaned against your skin. Even though it’d been years since he last touched you like this, he still knew all the things you liked and all the ways he could unravel you underneath him.

He unbuttoned your shirt, trying to restrain himself from just ripping the damn thing off of you. Once it was gone, he sat up so he could rid himself of his own button-up and undershirt. While he took off his top two layers, you arched your back to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the floor. He let out an appreciative groan at the sight of you.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse. You leaned down to kiss you again before moving his mouth down to your breasts. He took your left nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while one of his hands tweaked your other nipple. He laid there for some time, lavishing your tits with attention, moving his mouth from one nipple to the other, his fingers following, while you squirmed and whined underneath him. The scratch of his beard against your skin burned in the best way possible, and you wanted nothing more than to feel it in between your legs.

Rafael must’ve read your mind, because he started to kiss down your stomach, occasionally sucking and biting at the soft skin there. He sat back on his heels to undo the button and pull down the zipper of your pants. You lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him pull them off of you. Once your jeans were gone, Rafael’s head was between your legs, nipping and sucking at the flesh of your thighs. You whimpered at the feeling of his beard scratching your sensitive skin and could feel him smirk against you as squirmed and tried to get closer to his face.

Ghosting his lips over your clothed pussy, he reached up and hooked his thumbs into your panties, slowly pulling them off of you. You could feel his breath against your slick folds and it made you shiver. Rafael looked up at you—his pupils blown wide, lips red and kiss swollen.

“It’s been too long since I’ve had my tongue in this pretty pussy” Rafael said, one of his thumbs running up your slit lightly, stopping just short of your clit. You gasped at the sensation. “Can I taste you, sweet girl? Please, let me taste you.”

“God, Rafa, yes,” you answered, nodding your head enthusiastically. Without missing a beat, Rafael ducked his head, flattening his tongue against you and licking a broad line up your pussy. You let out a broken moan, your hips bucking up, trying to chase his tongue, but he gripped your hips and pressed you down into the bed.

He moved to your clit, sucking it into his mouth as he brought one hand down to tease his fingers through your folds. Slowly, he pushed one finger inside of you and began pumping it in and out languidly. You gasped, throwing your head back into your pillows as your hands sought purchase in his hair. You tugged on the short strands, pulling his face closer to you. He groaned into your pussy, the sound reverberating through your body. He pulled off of your clit with a lewd pop, slipping another finger inside of you. He leaned his cheek against the inside of your thigh, his breath coming out in short pants.

“You feel so good wrapped around my fingers, baby. So tight and wet.” He started to speed up, crooking his fingers and finding your sweet spot right away. “I missed you so much, Y/N. I thought about you, about this, about being back in your arms, every day.”

His words and his fingers were too much. The coil in your belly started to tighten and you were gasping for breath. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—all you could do was let out tiny, broken moans and focus on how good Rafael was making you feel.

“You’re close, cariño, I can feel it. Can feel the way your pussy is tightening up. Come for me, Y/N. Come for me, let me feel it, let me see it.”

He took your clit into his mouth and sucked hard at the same time he hit your sweet spot again, and you were done for. You came with a gasp that turned into a long, drawn-out moan as your pussy spasmed around Rafael’s fingers.

Rafael worked you through your orgasm with his fingers, whispering praises into the skin of your thighs. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Good girl. Such a good girl for me.”

When you finally came down and your breathing evened out, you slowly blinked open your eyes. You looked down to find Rafael staring up at you, his gaze a bit softer than before. His fingers were still inside of you, and as your eyes met his, he slowly pulled them out, smirking at the soft whimper you let out at the slow drag of his fingers.

Rafael kissed his way up the length of your body until he captured your lips with his. He kissed you slowly, taking his time to explore your mouth with his tongue. You wrapped your arms around his back and your legs around his waist, angling your hips upward to brush your bare pussy against his cock, hard and still trapped beneath his slacks. He pulled away from your mouth to hiss at the slight friction. You did it again, smirking as he dropped his face to the crook of your neck and groaned. He nipped at your pulse point, just hard enough to leave a mark that’d last for the rest of the night but be gone before you had to go to work in the morning.

“Rafa,” you breathed out, still softly grinding up against him. “Take your pants off. Want you to fuck me.”

He nodded, his face still buried in your neck and the feeling of his beard against your skin making you shiver. He pulled away and stood from the bed, eyes never leaving yours as he removed his pants and boxer briefs, leaving him bare before you. You took your bottom lip in between your teeth as you openly ogled him. Your pussy clenched at the sight of his cock, just as beautiful as you remembered it. He wasn’t overly long, about average length, but he was on the thicker side and filled you perfectly. When you finally dragged your eyes up back to Rafael’s face, he was looking at you with a smug smirk.

“Like what you see, cariño?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Always.”

Rafael opened the drawer of your bedside table to pull out a condom. He didn’t even ask if you’d moved them, moving on muscle memory. You knew he’d find them, though, because you hadn’t moved them since the last time he pulled one out. There was a new addition to your bedside drawer, though: a purple rabbit vibrator that you bought while drunk, sad, and horny. It was one of your best purchases of the last three years. Before grabbing a condom, Rafael pulled the vibrator out and inspected it with a smirk.

“Hmm, you’ll have to give me a demonstration of how this works one of these days.” Your heart fluttered at the idea of whatever you two had going on right now not being a one-time thing.

He set the vibrator back down in the drawer and pulled out a condom. He joined you back on the bed, giving his cock a couple of strokes before tearing open the little foil packet and rolling the condom onto himself. He leaned down to kiss you, putting some of his weight onto you and pressing you into the mattress. Feeling him on top of you like that was always one of your favorite things.

Rafael pulled away and smiled at you as he grabbed his cock in one hand and guided himself to your entrance. He teased you a little, barely pushing the tip in. He liked watching you squirm underneath him.

“Please, Rafa,” you whined, trying to get him to push into you more. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Shh, cariño,” he soothed, his other hand coming up to stroke the side of your face. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand, turning slightly to press kisses to his palm. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. Just be patient.”

Finally, Rafael started to push his cock into you more. He went slowly, relishing the feeling of your walls being wrapped around him again. You both groaned at the feeling. It didn’t just feel good—it felt right. Like you two were missing puzzle pieces, finally locked together. You knew then that you never wanted to let him go again.

When Rafael bottomed out, he crushed his forehead against yours, his eyes scrunched shut. He was breathing heavily, and as much as you wanted him to move, you knew he was trying to hold back. He wasn’t going to last long, but that was okay—neither were you.

“How long?” you asked breathlessly. He sat up a bit, blinking his eyes open. He looked at you, confusion etched on his face.

“Huh?”

You rolled your hips a little and gasped, hoping he got the message. He groaned, dropping onto one of his forearms as his hand gave out. He was panting into your ear, trying to gain a little bit of composure.

“Not since,” he panted, giving his hips an experimental thrust that had you both moaning. “Not since the last time I was with you.”

“Me neither, Rafael. Me neither. I couldn’t do it, not with anybody but you,” you said, grasping his face in your hands and pulling him down to kiss you. He moaned into your mouth, not really trying to kiss you back, but wanting to feel your mouth on his.

Finally, he started to move. At first, his pace was slow—he took his time pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back in. He liked watching your face when he did this, how your eyebrows would scrunch together and your mouth would fall open in small moans. But soon enough, his resolve began to crack, and he started to pound into you harder, punching the breath from your gut. You ran your fingers through his hair at the back of his head, holding onto dear life.

“Yes, Rafa, just like that,” you moaned, trying to roll your hips to meet his thrusts. “Don’t stop.”

Rafael grunted in response. He dipped his head down to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses all over your skin. One of his hands snaked down between your bodies, finding your clit with his thumb and rubbing it in small, tight circles. You let out a cry at the sensation, the coil in your belly beginning to wind once again.

“I’m so close, Y/N,” Rafael said into your neck. “Want to feel you come on cock. I need it, baby. Need you to come for me.”

You nodded your head, unable to form any words. There was too much happening—the feeling of Rafael’s cock dragging along your walls, his thumb on your clit, the dirty words he was whispering in your ear.

“Come on, Y/N, I know you’re close. Be a good girl and come on my cock, cariño.”

When one particularly hard thrust had him hitting you just right, you couldn’t hold it back any longer. You came with a loud, broken moan, your back arching off the bed as you nearly ripped Rafael’s hair out. Your pussy clenched Rafael’s cock in a vice as he kept fucking into you, chasing his own orgasm. After two, three more thrusts, he let out a deep, low groan as he came. His hips slowed as he worked you both through your highs.

When you came down, your legs were shaking and you could barely open your eyes. Rafael kissed his way up your neck and across the side of your face until he could capture your lips between his. It was slow and sweet, and you whined as he pulled away. Carefully, Rafael pulled his softening cock out of your pussy, making him hiss and you whimper at the feeling of being empty. Your eyes were still closed, so you didn’t see him get up from the bed and stand on wobbly legs.

You had started to doze off when you felt the cool washcloth start cleaning up in between your legs. It made you jerk awake, your eyes shooting open. Rafael was silent as he cleaned you up and you watched him work. Once he was done, he got up to put the cloth into your hamper and started to pick up his clothes.

Frowning at him, you asked, “what are you doing?”

He looked up at you, a bit of a solemn expression on his face. He looked like he was about to cry. “I was just, uh, getting my clothes together. I don’t know if you want me to stay, and I don’t want to be presumptuous.”

You sighed and used the rest of your energy to sit up. “Come sit with me,” you said softly.

Rafael set his clothes back down on the floor as he sat down next to you on the bed. His hands were fidgeting in his lap and he stared at them. You placed one of your hands on both of his and he looked up at you, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“Rafael, I still love you too, you know. I never stopped. When you left…” you huffed out a sigh and a dry chuckle. “I was in hell. I didn’t think I was ever gonna get over you. I never really did, if I’m being honest. Recently I thought I was in more of a better place, but I still missed you. I still wished that I was yours and you were mine. Not going with you has been one of my biggest regrets.”

You thought that hearing how much you still loved him would’ve made Rafael feel better, but you weren’t anticipating the opposite reaction. You didn’t think it was possible for his face to fall even more than it already had.

“Please don’t say that, Y/N. I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I knew how much you loved your job—how much you still do—and I shouldn’t have asked you to give that all up for me. I don’t want you to regret not coming with me, because I regret not staying here and rebuilding my life with you.”

You leaned into Rafael for a kiss, leaning your forehead against his when you pulled away. The two of you sat like that for a while, content to just be near each other. You had missed this more than anything—just being able to be with him.

“How long are you in New York for?” you asked as you pulled away. Rafael sighed and lifted one of his arms to put around your shoulders. You cuddled into his side, wrapping your arm around him and resting your head on his chest.

“For good. I took a job with the Innocence Project in their New York offices.”

You sat back up to look at him, scanning his face for any indication that he was lying. He wasn’t. Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest.

“Are you serious? You’re back for good?”

He nodded, a soft smile on his face. “I am, cariño. And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time.”

You knew you both still had a lot to work out and things to settle from the last time you saw each other, but in that moment none of that mattered to you. All you cared about was that the love of your life was back home, back with you, and you felt whole again.