#i could write soooo much more but this is already so long it took me two hours to write and idek if anyone even reads them rip

[bestanimal]

Round 2 - Mollusca - Cephalopoda

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

The class Cephalopoda includes the orders Nautilida (Nautiluses), Vampyromorphida (Vampire Squid), Octopoda (Octopuses), Myopsida (Coastal Squids), Oegopsida (Neritic Squids), Bathyteuthida (Bathyteuthid Squids), Idiosepida (Pygmy Squids), Sepiolida (Bobtail Squids), Spirulida (Ram's Horn Squid), and Sepiida (Cuttlefish).

Cephalopods are exclusively marine animals characterized by bilateral body symmetry, a prominent head, and a set of arms or tentacles modified from the more primitive molluscan foot. They are split into two subclasses: the more primitive Nautiloids (represented today by the genera Nautilus and Allonautilus), and the Coleoids (everything else.) Nautiloids retain their external molluscan shell, while coleoids either have an internal shell or have lost it secondarily. Cephalopods are widely regarded as the most intelligent invertebrates and have well-developed senses, large brains, and a complex nervous system. Their brain is protected by a cartilaginous cranium. Nautiloids do not have good vision, and likely perceive their world more through a sense of smell. However, even though coleoid eyes lack a cornea and have an everted retina, they have very acute vision, akin to that of sharks. They can detect polarized light, but most cephalopods are color blind. Despite their color blindness, coleoids are known as masters of disguise, changing color, shape, and texture in milliseconds, and also using colors, patterns, and flashing to communicate with each other! They do this through nervous control of their chromatophores, as well as cells such as iridophores and leucophores reflecting light from the environment. Some squids can even send one message via color patterns to a squid on their right, while they send another message to a squid on their left, splitting their color pattern lengthwise down their body. They may do this by sensing light levels directly through their skin, rather than their eyes, utilizing photosensitive molecules called opsins. They may also be able to utilize chromatic aberration through their oddly shaped pupils.

Cephalopods exchange gases with seawater by forcing water through their internal gills. Water enters the mantle cavity on the outside of the gills, and the entrance of the mantle cavity closes. When the mantle contracts, water is forced through the gills, which lie between the mantle cavity and the funnel. The water's expulsion through the funnel can be used to power jet propulsion. Most cephalopods move via jet propulsion, though this is a very energy-consuming way of travel. Squids, due to their shape and stiff mantles, are able to travel long distances, while octopuses tend to travel slowly along the seafloor relying more on their arms to pull them from place to place. Aside from nautiloids and some octopuses, all known cephalopods have an ink sac, which can be used to expel a cloud of dark ink to confuse predators. The inksac is an extension of the hindgut, opening into the anus, from which the ink can be squirted into the path of the animal’s funnel, allowing the ink to eject further with jet propulsion. This ink is almost pure melanin, which is mixed with mucus upon expulsion, resulting in visual (and possibly chemosensory) impairment of the predator, like a smokescreen. Some cephalopods even release a cloud with greater mucus content so that the ink takes the shape of the cephalopod, while the real one jets away!

Cephalopods hunt via grabbing food with their arms or tentacles, drawing it in to their two-part beak. Most have a radula within their beak. They have a mixture of toxic digestive juices, some of which are supplied by symbiotic algae, which they eject from their salivary glands onto the captured prey. These juices separate the flesh of their prey from the bone or shell. The salivary gland has a small tooth at its end which can be poked into an organism to digest it from within. Cephalopods can be found in all of Earth’s oceans, at all depths, even found within oceanic trenches, though they are most diverse near the equator.

Cephalopods evolved in the Late Cambrian, with the more primitive nautiloids dominating the Ordovician seas, and the more modern coleoids arising in the Lower Devonian. Many groups of cephalopods have been lost to time and are famous for their fossils, including the Ammonoids and Belemnoids. The living Chambered Nautilus (Nautilus pompilius) is also known from Early Pleistocene fossils.

Propaganda under the cut:

The study of cephalopods is called teuthology.

Though superficially similar, ammonoids were more closely related to living coleoids than they were to the shelled nautiloids!

The smallest living cephalopod is the 10mm (0.3 in) long Thai Pygmy Squid (Idiosepius thailandicus).

The largest living cephalopod, and largest living invertebrate is the 700 kilogram (1,500 lb) Colossal Squid (Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni).

The Atlantic Brief Squid (Lolliguncula brevis) is the only cephalopod known to tolerate brackish water, venturing into the Chesapeake Bay.

Captive octopuses have been known to climb out of their tanks, maneuver across the floor, enter another aquarium to feed on captive crabs, and then return to their own aquarium before their keepers return.

Captive octopuses have also been known to recognize, respond positively to, and even play with their keepers.

The Firefly Squid (Watasenia scintillans) is one of the only cephalopods known to have color vision.

Some cephalopods are able to fly through the air for distances of up to 50 metres (160 ft)! They can achieve these ranges by jet-propulsion, squirting water from their funnel even while in the air. They then spread their fins and tentacles to form wings and actively control lift force with their body posture. The Japanese Flying Squid (Todarodes pacificus) has been observed spreading its tentacles in a flat fan shape and utilizing a mucus film between the individual tentacles. The Caribbean Reef Squid (Sepioteuthis sepioidea) has been observed spreading its tentacles out in a circle to guide its flight. This behavior is presumably for avoiding predators and/or for saving energy during migrations.

Humboldt Squid (Dosidicus gigas) are large, agile pack hunters, flashing red and white to communicate with each other and coordinate attacks on shoals of fish. They are particularly known for being aggressive towards humans, though this aggression may be well founded, as they are the most popular squids to be hunted for food, with around 10 million killed every year. In circumstances where these animals are not feeding or being hunted, they usually exhibit curious and intelligent behavior.

The Vampire Squid (Vampyroteuthis infernalis) is the only living species in the order Vampyromorphida. Despite its name, it is closer related to octopuses. Living in the deep sea, they are small, 30 cm (1 ft) long, and range from jet black to pale red, have spiked arms connected by a webbing of skin, and have the largest proportional eyes in the animal kingdom at 2.5 cm (1 in) in diameter. It is the only cephalopod able to live its entire life cycle in the minimum zone, at oxygen saturations as low as 3%. They lack ink sacs, instead releasing a sticky cloud of bioluminescent mucus containing orbs of blue light from their arm tips. Despite their scary name, spooky appearance, and dazzling wizard spells, these animals mainly feed on detritus as it floats down to the depths.

The genus Hapalochlaena (Blue-ringed Octopuses) consists of four extremely venomous species of octopus that are found in tide pools and coral reefs in the Pacific and Indian oceans, from Japan to Australia. Despite their small size (12 to 20 cm [5 to 8 in]) they carry enough neurotoxic venom to kill 26 adult humans within minutes. The venom can result in nausea, respiratory arrest, heart failure, severe and sometimes total paralysis, blindness, and can lead to death within minutes if not treated. Death is usually from suffocation due to paralysis of the diaphragm. Despite this, blue-ringed octopuses are relatively docile and will only bite if actively harassed, instead choosing to flee or display their warning colors: bright yellow with blue flashing rings. Very few deaths have been recorded.

[stychu-stych]

Could we have some of your Lamb head canons please?

I'm going with my modern au because it's my little obsession right now sijssj

I'm cutting the post so it wouldn't be so long. The whole description is below

So the whole thing with Old Faith as the most powerful religion and Bishops is mostly the same like in the game. The world looks similar to our in 1700s, sheep was hunted down over the decades and Lambert was in the group of the last ones. That group was caught and killed, Lamb was lucky enough to be outside the camp at this time but they didn't enjoy their freedom for so long. As a single sheep it was hard to survive on their own

Lamb seeing their wife for the first time sjsbsjsh

Lamber was caught some time later by bounty hunters. However, an accident happened when Lamb tried to escape one night - there were shot in the stomach badly enough that further travel was impossible without them bleeding out. So since Lamb was going to die anyway, the bounty hunters figured out they'd at least bring Old Faith their head. They didn't wait for Lamb to bleed out first, so that death wasn't fast or easy.

First years as a cult leader weren't easy. Taking care of the flock, learning how to fight, figuring out how rituals work, it was a lot for young Death's vessel. Lamb couldn't get used to their new role for some time. But Ratau was a huge help, beloved rat-dad was as much supportive as he could

After their first century as cult leader, Lamb began to feel comfortable in their role, perhaps a little to much I would say. Their grow their wool and started to pay more attention to their appearance and to the things that brought them pleasure. They started to fully enjoy their immortal life, to be too self-confident focused too much on themselves. They liked being in the center of attention, with the flock fully devoted to them. They even started to add a new tattoo with every kill of a Bishop or their the most devoted followers (as a trophy)

Beginning of XX century, Lamb become TOWW's little killing machine, no fear of death or pain. Ready to die, just to stand up and go killing again. They were fully devoted to Narinder in the most toxic way, ready to do absolutely everything just to make their god satisfied. Lamb didn't even realize how obsessed they were with Narinder at that time

Modern times, with Narinder already indoctrinated into the cult. Lamb as a selfish, egocentric, ready to do everything to achieve their goals bastard. Still unhealthy devoted to Narinder but this time in a different way - on one hand madly in love with him, on the other hating him with all their heart because of he did to them. Either way both of those strong feelings keep them close to him

Jeez this post took me more time to write than to draw djdbdjdj I'm soooo bad at writing

[heartsbyani]

a song , that sounds like you

[ 한 ] ✷ ‎. . sleepover with your best friend, just like before. except that . . it isn't ?

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑏sf!han ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , best friends to lovers , uni au , skz ensemble . 71OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. kisses , jokes , intimacy . ┆ 💌 ⋮ requested drabble .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ~I.5K WORDS. yani, dont over-write and turn every simple thing into a longfic challenge: go-> status: failed. THATS WHY I TOOK SO LONG. but anyways.... i read this like a gazillion times and im very slightly unhappy about it????? idk. but i got sick of it at some point so i didnt rly proofread for the final time. soooo finally another jisung fic lol >< posted way too much abt seungmo.. not that im complaining hehe. tribute to my beloved permed-jisung and pre-shaved jisung🙏 you're missed plenty. enjoy reading, thanks to anon for the req. <3 comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

the night felt like any other. it was nothing new. nothing unusual.

jisung had crashed at y/n’s dorm more times than he could count, so many that they’d stopped calling it a "sleepover" years ago. it was just… what they did.

tonight was no different—except maybe it was.

jisung flopped onto her bed dramatically, limbs splayed out like a starfish. "i'm dying."

y/n, arms crossed, raised an unimpressed brow. "you literally just walked in."

"my point." he turned his head toward her, grinning wide, dimples pressing into his cheeks. "the walk from my dorm to yours? brutal. my legs almost gave up. i nearly saw the light. i need some support here,"

"what you need is exercise, ji," she laughed, already walking past him toward the kitchen. "come on lazy ass, we’re cooking."

jisung groaned, rolling onto his stomach. "cooking? can’t we order food? delivery is, like, the peak of human civilization."

"you mean the peak of your laziness."

"same thing."

"you’re cooking today."

jisung immediately sat up. "i’m sorry, what?"

"you heard me."

"y/n, have you ever seen me successfully make anything that isn’t watered-down instant ramen or burnt eggs?"

"exactly why you need to learn." she shot him a knowing smile, opening the fridge. "come on, chef-nim, apron up."

jisung scoffed. "you act like i own an apron."

"you act like i don't have a spare." she tossed a black apron his way. he caught it with a dramatic sigh, slipping it over his tee. "this is humiliating."

y/n simply tied her own apron around her waist, moving swiftly around the kitchen. jisung, however, stood in the middle of it like he was lost in a foreign land.

"so," he said, rocking on his heels, "what are we making, masterchef?"

"some fried rice, with stir-fry for the sides."

"sounds safe enough. do i get a knife?" his eyes lightened up.

y/n turned to him, eyes full of doubt, hands on her hips. "do i look like i trust you with a knife?"

he clutched his chest. "ouch."

"jisung, the last time you touched a knife, you almost lost a finger."

"it was one time!"

"one time too many." she handed him a bowl instead. "crack the eggs."

"i can do that," he said confidently.

y/n watched as he picked up an egg, tapped it on the edge of the bowl—nothing. he hit it again. still intact.

"jisung."

"hold on, it's just being stubborn."

"you're literally supposed to—"

before she could finish, he smacked the egg with full force. it exploded in his hand, yolk dripping between his fingers. he blinked.

"…okay. that was aggressive."

y/n burst out laughing. "oh, good lord.."

"why are you laughing?! this is tragic!" he held up his hand dramatically, as if he'd just lost a battle.

she wiped away tears of laughter. "you’re such a disaster."

"and yet you still keep me around."

"i really question why, sometimes."

jisung wiggled his eyebrows. "because you love me."

"debatable."

"wow. you wound me."

she handed him another egg. "try again, but gently this time."

he pouted but followed her instructions. on the second try, he succeeded. barely. a little bit of shell fell into the bowl, but he picked it out quickly, flashing her a victorious grin.

"see? improvement."

y/n shook her head with a fond smile. "barely."

as she moved on to frying the rice, jisung leaned against the counter, watching her. the warm glow of the kitchen lights softened her features, and the way she effortlessly moved around—it was second nature to her.

"you're so good at this," he murmured absentmindedly.

she glanced up. "at what?"

"everything," he said simply.

her movements stilled for a second before she rolled her eyes, turning back to the pan. "corny."

"honest."

she pushed his forehead lightly with her fingers. "shut up and hand me the soy sauce."

jisung grinned, grabbing the bottle and sliding it over the counter toward her. "see? i am useful."

"debatable."

jisung gasped. "you really enjoy hurting me, huh?"

y/n only smiled as she stirred the rice.

they fell into a comfortable silence after that—jisung humming some random tune, y/n focusing on the food. it was normal. routine. nothing new.

except maybe it was.

because jisung found himself staring at her a little longer than usual.

and yn, for some reason, felt a little warmer than the stove’s heat should allow.

the aroma of warm rice, sizzling kimchi, and soy sauce had filled the small dorm, wrapping them in the kind of comfort that only home-cooked food could bring. y/n hummed softly as she scooped the steaming fried rice onto two plates, making sure to add an extra spoonful to her best friend's because she already knew he’d ask.

jisung, sprawled out on the floor like he had no bones in his body, watched her with a lazy grin. "you really know how to treat a man."

"you’re more of a babygirl, but okay," she replied without missing a beat, setting the plates down on the small coffee table in front of them.

"excuse me? i am very much a grown adult."

"sure," she snorted. "a grown adult who can't crack an egg."

jisung gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "low blow."

yn only grinned as she grabbed the remote, flipping on the tv. they didn't even bother picking something to watch—just let some random show play in the background while she scrolled through a playlist on her phone.

and just like that, the room filled with their favorite songs.

the playlist hummed in the background, weaving through the warm, dimly lit dorm like a familiar embrace. soft indie melodies blended into old tracks from their high school days, each song a quiet echo of late-night car rides and whispered confessions. nestled between them were jisung’s own songs—songs he had written on restless nights, songs y/n had begged him to release, songs he pretended not to care about being in the playlist but secretly loved seeing there.

the air smelled of soy sauce and garlic. jisung sat cross-legged on the couch, his loose shirt and plaid pajama pants slightly wrinkled. his fluffy brown hair that he'd recently gotten permed, much to y/n's pleading, was tousled, curls falling over his forehead, casting soft shadows over his sleepy eyes. he scooped up a bite of fried rice, humming in approval as he chewed, blissfully unaware of the way y/n was watching him.

she sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, chin resting lazily against them, gaze fixed on him with a softness even she didn’t notice. he looked so at home, so effortlessly him, sitting there with his cheeks puffed out from the food she made, eyes drooping slightly from exhaustion. a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

he always ate with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t had a proper meal in days, shoveling food into his mouth like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“you’re staring,” his voice came, teasing yet laced with fondness.

y/n blinked, heat creeping up her neck as she quickly looked away. “i am not.”

jisung grinned, swallowing another bite. “liar.”

but he didn’t press further. he only smirked to himself, going back to his food, pretending he didn’t notice the way she studied him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

what he wouldn’t admit—what he barely admitted to himself—was that he did the same thing.

when y/n wasn’t paying attention, lost in the flickering candlelight of their tiny dorm, jisung found himself staring. he always did. the glow of the fairy lights made her skin look softer, her features delicate and warm. her hair, slightly messy from their earlier chaos in the kitchen, framed her face in a way that made his heart ache.

she was wearing her pyjama set, and the sleeves were bunched up around her fists as she absentmindedly traced circles against the couch cushion, after a bite herself.

she was beautiful. in the quiet, in the soft spaces between their banter, in the way she existed in his world so effortlessly.

“now,” she called out suddenly, breaking him from his trance. “you’re staring.”

his breath caught in his throat, but he recovered quickly, flashing his usual cheeky grin. “i am not.”

“liar.”

their laughter mingled with the music, and for a moment, the weight of their hidden feelings melted into the warmth of the night.

jisung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he shoved another spoonful of rice into his mouth. he chewed slowly, eyes flickering between the half-empty plate and y/n, her expression unreadable except for the teasing glint in her gaze. his own voice filtered through the small dorm, warm and unfiltered, singing lyrics he once scribbled down at 2 a.m., never expecting them to be heard by anyone but himself.

he swallowed, running his tongue over his bottom lip before muttering, “you do this on purpose.”

y/n tilted her head, feigning confusion as she picked at her food. “do what?”

“this.” he gestured vaguely toward the speaker, his voice quieter now, almost sheepish. “make me listen to myself.”

she shrugged, stuffing another bite of rice into her mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. “your music is good.”

jisung let out a small, breathy laugh, but there was something uncertain in the way his fingers tapped against the bowl. “you don’t have to lie to make me feel better, you know.”

y/n blinked, chopsticks pausing midair. “i’m not lying.”

“you say that.” he glanced at her, then away, focusing on a loose thread on his pajama pants. “but you’re my best friend. you’d tell me it’s good even if it wasn’t.”

she frowned, setting her chopsticks down with a soft clink against the ceramic. “sung..”

he didn’t respond, just stuffed another bite into his mouth, chewing like he was trying to make himself busy. y/n sighed, shifting so she could look at him properly. the glow of the fairy lights cast gentle shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet vulnerability in his eyes—the kind he tried so hard to hide.

“look,” she started, voice softer now. “i don’t put your songs in our playlists just because you’re my best friend. i put them there because they belong there.”

jisung stilled, fingers tightening around his spoon.

“you write music that makes people feel something. i know because i feel it. i always have.” she toyed with the hem of her top. “and maybe it’s because i’ve seen you go through every stage of it. the late nights, the self-doubt, the way you talk about music like it’s the only thing that makes sense in your life sometimes.”

he swallowed thickly, staring at his plate like it held answers.

“i don’t just like your music, jisung. i believe in it. i believe in you.”

silence settled between them, thick and heavy, but not uncomfortable. jisung’s throat bobbed as he licked his lips, finally daring to meet her gaze.

something unreadable flickered in his eyes, something fragile and hesitant and real.

“…you always say things like that.” his voice was quiet, uncertain. “and i never know what to do with it.”

y/n smiled, small and knowing. “you don’t have to do anything. just don’t forget it.”

he stared at her for a moment longer, chest tightening with something he didn’t quite have the courage to name. then, exhaling softly, he looked away, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“i won’t.”

they ate comfortably, stealing bites from each other's plates despite having the exact same food. it was normal, the way their chopsticks clinked against each other in midair, the way jisung would groan dramatically after every bite, acting as if he’d just tasted the best thing in the world.

"marry me," he said, mouth full.

y/n gave him a look. "chew first."

he swallowed, grinning. "okay, now will you marry me?"

"no."

jisung clutched his chest. "you are cruel, woman."

"you are an idiot, man."

"a lovable idiot," he corrected, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

she rolled her eyes but didn't deny it.

a beat of silence passed between them, the kind that wasn't awkward but rather filled with something unspoken. jisung glanced at her between bites, again, watching the way the light from the tv flickered against her skin.

she looked… soft. comfortable. the same as always, but maybe not quite.

"so," y/n spoke suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "how was your day?"

jisung blinked, needing a second to process the question. they spent most of their time together, but during classes, they went their separate ways. it was rare for them to actually talk about what happened when they weren't in the same place.

"uh," he started, stabbing his rice absentmindedly. "it was fine. boring. had a music composition lecture, but hyunjin fell asleep and snored loud enough for the whole class to hear."

y/n laughed. "no way."

"swear to god. professor park just stared at him for a solid minute before moving on."

"did no one wake him up?"

"i tried, but he swatted me away like a fly."

she shook her head, still laughing. "what else?"

jisung hesitated for a moment before answering, "i worked on a song between classes."

her expression softened. "the one you told me about?"

"yeah." he looked away, suddenly a little shy. "i, uh, actually finished the demo."

"jisung!" she smacked his arm lightly. "why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"i dunno," he muttered, playing with his chopsticks. "didn’t seem important."

"of course it’s important," she said firmly. "can i hear it?"

he met her eyes, something flickering behind his own, before he looked down again. "maybe later."

she didn't push, just nodded. "okay. your turn to ask."

he raised a brow. "ask what?"

"about my day, genius."

"oh. right." he leaned back, lazily twirling his chopsticks. "so, how was your day, my dear best friend whom i love and adore?"

she snorted. "it was fine. boring, mostly. but i had this duo project in business class."

jisung hummed in acknowledgment, taking another bite. "who’d you get stuck with?"

"a guy named sunwoo."

jisung froze mid-chew, his spoon hovering just inches from his lips. his brows furrowed for the briefest second before he blinked and forced himself to keep chewing, though suddenly, the fried rice didn’t taste as good anymore.

“i see..” he said after swallowing, voice casual. too casual. “never heard you mention him before.”

y/n shrugged, taking another bite. “yeah, we never really talked until today. he’s nice, though. smart, too. i was kinda worried i’d get stuck doing all the work, but he actually pulled his weight.”

jisung scoffed lightly, poking at his food. “that’s the bare minimum.”

she snorted. “true.”

silence stretched for a beat, the playlist shuffling to another song. jisung tapped his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl, trying to ignore the weird feeling curling in his stomach. it wasn’t a big deal. just a project partner. nothing to think about.

except—

“he was pretty talkative, too,” y/n continued, oblivious to the way jisung’s grip on his spoon tightened. “like, at first, it was just about the project, but then he started asking me random stuff. like, my favorite color, what i do in my free time, my favorite coffee order—”

jisung let out a short, almost incredulous laugh. “your coffee order? what, is he planning on getting you one next time?”

she blinked, considering. “i dunno, maybe. that’d be nice.”

jisung nearly choked on air. he coughed into his fist, shaking his head. “pfft. wow. sounds like he’s… really interested in your business skills.”

y/n laughed at that, nudging his leg with her foot. “oh, shut up. he was just being friendly.”

yeah, okay. sure.

he forced a grin, shoveling another bite of rice into his mouth like it would somehow get rid of the weird, nagging feeling inside him. “so, what else did he say?” he asked, tone still light, still playful. still pretending he didn’t care.

y/n hummed, thinking. “oh, he told me i have a really nice smile.”

jisung almost dropped his chopsticks.

“oh! and that i have pretty hands,” she added, wiggling her fingers in front of his face. “which is funny, ‘cause i don’t really get the whole hand thing, but—”

“he said what?” jisung cut in, voice cracking slightly.

she blinked up at him, confused. “...that i have pretty hands?”

jisung squinted at her like she was missing something obvious. “who compliments someone’s hands?”

“i don’t know! i mean, i guess they’re kinda nice…” she examined her own fingers, flexing them under the fairy lights. “they do a lot for me, you know? writing, playing, cooking—”

“okay, but still,” jisung interjected, trying not to sound too whiny. “that’s like—textbook flirting.”

y/n snorted. “no, it’s not.”

“yes, it is!” jisung threw his hands up. “first, he asks about your coffee order—classic move, by the way—then he calls your smile nice? and now your hands?” he pointed a dramatic chopstick at her. “that’s next-level, y/n. that’s, like, hand-holding agenda.”

she gave him a flat look. “i think you’re overreacting. personally i'd love making friends like that.” she laughed.

“no, you’re underreacting!” he groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch, staring at the ceiling like it personally offended him. “i can’t believe this. my best friend is so oblivious.”

y/n just giggled, poking his knee. “oh, come on, ji. he was just being nice. and it’s not like i’m interested in him or anything.”

jisung perked up at that, a little too quickly. “you’re not?”

she shook her head, stuffing another bite of rice into her mouth. “nope.”

something unspoken settled in the air.

jisung let out a quiet breath, something inside him easing—but he still had an annoyed little pout on his lips. “still. he was flirting. you just don’t see it ‘cause you’re you.”

“hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” he huffed, crossing his arms, “that you’re too cute for your own good, and guys like him are gonna keep trying to hit on you while you remain completely, utterly unaware.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard.

jisung realized what he said half a second too late. his ears turned pink.

“…anyway!” he cleared his throat, suddenly stuffing his mouth with rice. “this is good fried rice. really, really good.”

y/n just watched him, something unreadable in her gaze. a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

“dork,” she muttered under her breath.

and if jisung, in his flustered state, caught the way she was staring at him now—soft, fond, admiring—he didn’t say a word.

"sunwoo. what kind of dumb name is that?"

she laughed, shaking her head.

soon, the food disappeared slowly between them, the plates scraping softly as y/n absentmindedly pushed the last bits of rice around with her chopsticks. jisung, on the other hand, had long since finished and was now leaning back on his palms, his head tilted toward the ceiling, looking entirely too satisfied. he stretched with a deep sigh, his tee riding up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin before settling back down.

"i’m convinced you were a chef in a past life," he said, breaking the silence, his voice laced with a kind of sleepy contentment.

y/n smirked, still focused on her plate. "i’ll take that as a compliment."

"it is a compliment," he assured her, turning his head to face her. his cheek was slightly squished against his shoulder, making him look more like a sleepy puppy than a grown man. "i’m genuinely scared of what would happen to me if you weren’t around. i’d probably live off ramen and instant rice."

"you already do that when i’m not around. and still make it taste bad."

"exactly," he said, as if she had just proven his point. "my body is, like, seventy percent sodium at this point."

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "that explains a lot, honestly."

jisung gasped dramatically. "are you saying i look like someone who eats too much sodium?"

"i’m saying your diet is concerning," she teased, finally setting her chopsticks down and leaning back as well. the food had settled warmly in her stomach, and the atmosphere felt hazy in the best way—soft, familiar, comfortable.

jisung groaned, letting his head fall back. "this is why i need you in my life. you balance out all my self-destructive tendencies."

y/n snorted, stretching out her legs. "i’m your best friend, not your dietitian."

"best friend and dietitian," he corrected lazily.

she hummed, letting the conversation drift into a natural lull. the tv played quietly in the background, an old sitcom neither of them was paying attention to, and their playlist continued to shuffle through songs they had both heard a thousand times before. outside, the city was alive, but in their small little bubble of a dorm, it felt like time had slowed down just for them.

jisung shifted, sitting up properly, and y/n could feel him staring before she even turned to look at him. "what?" she asked, raising a brow.

he hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before finally saying, "i want you to be in my song."

the words were simple, casual even, but they made something in y/n’s chest tighten. she blinked. "what?"

"my demo," jisung clarified, his voice softer now, more careful. "i want you to sing in it."

yn let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "jisung, you know i don’t do that."

"why not?" he tilted his head, brows furrowing slightly. "you’re literally so good. like, so good."

she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "it’s just a hobby for me, you know that."

"okay, but why just a hobby?" his voice had that familiar edge of insistence, the same one he used when he really, really wanted something. "you could do so much more with it."

she shrugged, eyes flickering to the tv even though she wasn’t really watching. "it’s not the same for me as it is for you," she said honestly. "music is your thing, jisung. you breathe this stuff. it’s not like that for me."

"but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it," he argued, leaning in slightly. "i love your voice, y/n. you know that."

she swallowed, feeling warmth crawl up her neck. he had told her that before—countless times, actually—but something about the way he said it now felt different, heavier. "it’s just not something i see myself doing seriously," she admitted, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.

jisung was quiet for a moment, his eyes studying her face carefully. then, with a small, teasing smile, he said, "okay. but what if it’s just for me?"

she looked at him, confused. "what do you mean?"

"i mean," he started, tapping his fingers against his knee absentmindedly, "forget about, like, doing music professionally or whatever. i just want you on this song. not because i think you should be an artist or anything—just because it’s us. i dunno. i feel like it’d sound better if you were in it."

y/n bit her lip, uncertain. she liked singing, she always had, but she never really thought about it beyond the occasional harmonizing with jisung when he played guitar, or the times she mindlessly hummed while cooking. it was never something she considered putting out there for other people to hear.

jisung, however, was looking at her with those big, expectant eyes, his wide smile softened at the edges. "just think about it," he said, nudging her knee with his. "no pressure. but i think it’d be cool. i mean, imagine—our voices together in a song? legendary."

yn laughed, shaking her head. "you’re ridiculous."

"i’m right," he corrected.

she sighed, resting her chin on her palm. "i don’t know, ji."

he pouted, but there was no real disappointment in his face—just patience, quiet and steady. "i’ll send you the demo," he said after a beat. "just listen to it. see if you like it."

she nodded slowly. "fine. i’ll listen."

jisung grinned, victorious. "that’s all i ask."

another silence stretched between them, this one softer, almost charged in a way y/n couldn’t quite explain. the tv droned on in the background, but neither of them was paying attention.

jisung shifted again, stretching his legs out next to hers, their knees knocking slightly. he exhaled, tilting his head back against the couch. "i like nights like this," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself.

yn turned to look at him, watching the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones under the dim light. "like what?"

"just…chill." he cracked one eye open, looking at her. "you. me. food. music. no stress."

she smiled softly. "yeah. me too."

jisung hummed in acknowledgment, closing his eyes again. "we should do this more often."

y/n didn’t respond right away, letting the words settle between them. she thought about how much time they already spent together, how their days were filled with each other in some way or another.

and yet, something about the way he said it—like he wanted more, like he wasn’t just talking about casual hangouts but something deeper—made her stomach flutter in a way she didn’t entirely understand.

she swallowed, nudging his foot lightly with hers. "we already do this all the time, idiot."

jisung smiled, eyes still closed. "yeah. but i mean more."

y/n’s heart did something weird in her chest, but before she could dwell on it, jisung sat up suddenly, stretching his arms above his head. "anyway. we should clean around before the angry yunah gets back and starts lecturing us about leaving dishes out."

the moment was gone, dissipating like smoke, leaving yn slightly dazed in its wake.

she nodded, shaking off the strange warmth in her chest, pushing herself up as well.

"right. let’s clean up."

and just like that, the night continued, soft and slow, something unspoken lingering between them—unnoticed, or maybe just ignored.

. . .

the dishes had been washed, the leftovers tucked away, and the night stretched lazily ahead of them, the warm haze of comfort lingering in the air. the tv was still on, playing something neither of them was paying attention to, but y/n could feel the way the atmosphere had shifted—thicker, heavier, filled with something unsaid.

jisung sat on the floor again, back resting against the couch, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against his knee. now, his sleeves were pushed up to reveal his forearms, and his hair was messier now, some strands sticking out in different directions. he looked soft like this—less like the flirty, chaotic mess he usually was and more like the boy she had always known, the one who could say a million things with just a glance.

y/n sat across from him, legs crossed, arms draped over her knees as she studied him. she hesitated for a moment before saying, “play it for me.”

jisung blinked, caught off guard. “huh?”

“the song,” she clarified, shifting slightly. “i wanna hear it.”

he stared at her for a second before scoffing. “you never wanna hear my songs before they’re done.”

“um, wrong, you always reject to play them for me before they're done.” she pointed, trying to sound casual. “i feel like listening everytime. and tonight.”

“and my guitar is right here, so..” she laughed.

something flickered across jisung’s face—surprise, maybe, or something softer—but he didn’t question it. instead, he reached for her guitar, a brown one, which had burgundy, floral borders over its peaks and edges. it had been sitting next to the couch all night, like it had been waiting for the right moment.

he adjusted it on his lap, fingers finding the familiar curves of the wood, the smoothness of the strings beneath his touch. the way he handled just.. guitars had always fascinated her—not just with skill, but with love, like it was an extension of himself, a second voice that spoke when words weren’t enough.

y/n watched, her chin resting on her palm as she took in the tiny details she had seen a hundred times before but never really noticed—the way his brows furrowed in focus, the way his lips parted slightly as if he were already singing in his head, the way the warm light from the tv cast soft shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his bottom lip.

he cleared his throat. “okay, but don’t judge, ‘cause it’s still rough.”

she rolled her eyes. “i never judge.”

he gave her a look, but it was softened by a small smile before he looked down at his guitar again. his fingers moved, the first chords filling the room—gentle, familiar, warm.

and then, he sang.

his voice was low at first, careful, like he was still unsure if he wanted to let her hear it. but as the melody flowed, he eased into it, his tone settling into that effortless, raspy sweetness that always made something deep in y/n’s chest ache.

she watched, completely entranced, as his eyes fluttered shut, lost in the song. the way his throat moved as he sang, the subtle shifts in his expression, the slight crease in his brow when he hit a note just right—it was all so undeniably han jisung, and it was beautiful.

she had heard him sing countless times before, but something about this was different. maybe because it was just the two of them, the world outside forgotten. or maybe because she was finally allowing herself to see him, really see him, in a way she hadn’t before.

his voice filled the room, smooth and raw all at once, laced with emotion that made her chest feel tight. and the lyrics—god, the lyrics.

it was soft, bittersweet, almost like a confession hidden within the melody. he sang about late nights and lingering glances, about feelings that hovered on the edge of something more, about someone who felt like home.

and y/n couldn’t help but wonder—who was it about?

her breath caught slightly as she watched him, taking in the way his lashes cast the faintest shadows on his cheeks, the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, the way his lips curled slightly around certain words, like he meant them.

she felt something warm spread through her chest, something unfamiliar yet oddly comforting, like stepping into sunlight after days of rain.

when he finally strummed the last chord, the room settled into silence, save for the distant hum of the city outside.

jisung let out a breath, running a hand through his already messy hair. “so… what do you think?”

y/n was still staring. she realized it a second too late and quickly looked away, blinking. “it’s…” her voice felt stuck in her throat, so she cleared it, trying again. “it’s beautiful, ji.”

he smiled, looking down as if trying to hide how much her words affected him. “yeah?”

“yeah,” she said softly.

another silence settled between them, this one different from the ones before. it wasn’t awkward—it was thick, weighted with something neither of them dared to name.

jisung shifted slightly, leaning her guitar against the couch. his fingers tapped against his knee again, a nervous habit. “i meant what i said earlier.”

y/n tilted her head. “about what?”

“about you being in the song,” he said, his voice quieter now. “your voice would fit perfectly. you have this way of making things sound… real. i dunno how to explain it, but i think it’d be better if you were part of it.”

“i know you don’t take singing seriously, and you did say you'd listen to the actual demo.. oh which i know means a no, almost,” he cut in before she could refuse, “but just this once. just for this song.”

y/n exhaled, her fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve. “why does it matter so much to you?”

jisung opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he was debating how honest he wanted to be.

finally, he shrugged. “because it’s us.”

her heart skipped.

“i mean, not us us,” he added quickly, looking away. “just… our voices. together. i think it’d be nice.”

y/n swallowed. “i don’t know if i’d be any good.”

“you would,” he said, no hesitation. “and i’d be with you the whole time. we’d do it together.”

together.

the word settled deep in her chest, warm and heavy.

she looked at him again, at the hopeful glint in his eyes, at the way he was watching her like she was something more than just his best friend.

and maybe, for the first time, she let herself wonder—what if she was?

she exhaled slowly, giving him a small, hesitant smile. “okay.”

jisung blinked. “okay?”

“i’ll do it,” she said, and his entire face lit up in that way it always did when he was really happy, the kind of smile that made her stomach flip in ways she didn’t fully understand.

“you won’t regret it,” he promised, excitement buzzing in his voice.

she wasn’t sure if that was true.

because something told her that once she sang with him, once their voices blended together in a song meant for something deeper—

there would be no going back.

and that terrified her more than anything.

. . .

sprawled out on jisung’s bed, surrounded by the soft hum of the laptop fan and the distant city sounds filtering through the window, y/n felt weightless. not in the way that meant floating away, but in the way that meant she was exactly where she was meant to be.

the air smelled faintly of fabric softener, of jisung’s vanilla-and-woodsy shampoo, of warmth. the blankets beneath them were slightly rumpled, evidence of a thousand previous sleepovers, tangled limbs, and late-night conversations that bled into early mornings. the glow from the laptop screen cast shifting patterns onto the walls, moving in time with the video they were watching.

it was their friend group’s latest dance cover, the kind they always hyped up in their group chat but never actually watched until they were together.

“look at hyunjin’s face,” jisung snickered, pointing at the screen as hyunjin executed a particularly dramatic spin, his expression intense. “bro thinks he’s in a movie.”

y/n burst into laughter, hiding her face in her hands. “no, because he so does that on purpose. you just know he was practicing in front of a mirror.”

“i bet he stared at himself for hours,” jisung agreed, shaking his head. “such a drama king.”

they continued watching, throwing in their own commentary as felix’s fluid movements took over the screen, followed by minho’s signature sharpness, yunah’s grace, and minseo’s precise footwork. their friends were insane, and as much as they teased, the admiration was real.

“minho-hyung’s on another level, though,” yn murmured, her head tilted slightly. “look at the way he controls his movements.”

jisung hummed in agreement. “yeah. he’s scary good.”

a comfortable silence settled between them, only the sound of the music playing through the laptop speakers filling the air. the bed dipped slightly where jisung had shifted, moving to lean on his elbow. yn could feel the shift in weight, the slight press of his arm against hers, the warmth of his body radiating closer than before.

she turned her head slightly—just a fraction—to look at him.

and that was when it happened.

something… shifted.

it was subtle, but it was undeniable. like a string pulled taut between them, an unspoken question hovering in the air.

jisung’s eyes were still on the screen, but his fingers had stopped absentmindedly tapping against the blanket. his jaw was relaxed, but his lips were slightly parted, like he had just thought of something he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say out loud.

the glow from the laptop flickered across his face, highlighting the curve of his cheek, the slope of his nose, the way his lashes cast delicate shadows against his skin. his hair, slightly messy from the way he had been lying down, fell softly over his forehead.

and then, as if he could feel her looking, his gaze flickered to hers.

it wasn’t immediate. it wasn’t rushed.

it was slow.

deliberate.

his eyes met hers, and for the first time in a long time, neither of them looked away.

the music in the background faded into something distant, something unimportant.

the flickering light, the sound of their breathing, the way the air seemed to press down on them—it all blended into something almost dreamlike.

jisung’s gaze dipped, just for a second, to her lips.

and y/n’s breath caught.

it wasn’t new, being this close. it wasn’t new, lying next to each other, watching something, talking about everything and nothing.

but this?

this was new.

this was different.

she could feel it in the way the space between them seemed to shrink, in the way her pulse thrummed in her ears, in the way jisung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly.

his hand twitched—just barely—against the blanket.

and then, before she could even fully process it, he moved.

slow. hesitant. but sure.

his fingers brushed against hers, a touch so light it could have been mistaken for an accident. but neither of them moved away.

yn exhaled shakily, her heart a wild drum in her chest.

and then, suddenly—

their lips met.

soft at first. just a press—a quiet, unsure thing that barely lasted a second.

but then she leaned in.

and he did too.

and it wasn’t just a kiss anymore. it was something more.

jisung’s lips were warm, careful, but there was a hunger beneath it, something restrained, something that had been waiting far too long to be acknowledged. his fingers found her wrist, featherlight at first before gripping just slightly, grounding himself.

her hands curled into the fabric of his tee, and he let out a quiet exhale against her lips, like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

the laptop screen continued playing, casting shifting lights across their skin. the blanket beneath them was soft, but nothing—nothing—felt softer than this. than him.

he pulled away first, just enough to breathe, just enough to look at her.

his eyes searched hers, as if trying to understand what this meant.

as if asking, did we just cross the line?

but the thing was—

maybe there had never been a line in the first place.

maybe they had been here all along, just waiting for the right moment to realize it.

their breaths tangled in the space between them, warm and unsteady, still trembling with something unspoken. the moment felt like it stretched infinitely—long enough for y/n to take in the way jisung’s eyes flickered, dark pools of hesitation and something deeper, something unreadable.

his fingers, still curled loosely around her wrist, twitched, but he didn’t pull away.

the glow from the laptop continued to flicker, painting soft golds and muted blues across his face, across the fabric of his tee, across the slightly uneven threads of the blanket beneath them.

she felt warm.

not just from the shared heat between them, but from something in her chest, something that felt like a slow burn, like a realization creeping up on her.

jisung exhaled, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but then he stopped.

she blinked at him, suddenly aware of the way her heart was still hammering. loudly. so loudly she swore he could hear it.

“…we just,” she said, as if confirming it to herself.

“kissed.”

jisung let out a breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. yeah, we did.”

silence. not awkward, but charged.

y/n wet her lips, suddenly hyper-aware of the lingering sensation of his against hers. soft. he was soft.

then, jisung groaned, burying his face into the pillow. “oh my god. did i just ruin us?”

she blinked, before laughing softly. “you’re literally so dramatic.”

“i am not,” he mumbled into the fabric, voice muffled.

“you are. like, so dramatic. like—oscar-worthy dramatic.”

jisung lifted his head just enough to glare at her, though the way his nose scrunched up made it less intimidating. “okay, miss i-just-kissed-my-best-friend-and-now-i’m-still-here-for-some-reason—why are you not freaking out?”

y/n tilted her head. “do you want me to freak out?”

“no?” his lips quirked. “maybe?” he groaned again, flopping onto his back, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers. “i just—wow, okay, so we really did just kiss. that happened.”

she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow, her fingers playing with the loose threads of the blanket. “do you regret it?”

jisung turned his head to look at her, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. he just looked.

his gaze trailed over the shape of her nose, the way her cheek was still slightly flushed, the way her hair had fallen over her shoulder, a few strands resting against her collarbone.

then, he whispered, “no.”

her breath hitched.

jisung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “do you?”

a beat of silence.

“…no.”

another stretch of quiet, but this time, it was softer. like a shared secret, like something that no longer needed to be questioned.

then, jisung shifted, reaching up lazily, fingers brushing against the ends of her hair. “okay. so. now what?”

she huffed a small laugh, flopping back onto the pillows beside him. “i have no idea.”

“that makes two of us.”

they both stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the sound of the laptop’s fan whirring quietly in the background.

then—

jisung turned his head toward her again, watching the way her lips pursed slightly in thought, the way her fingers absentmindedly traced shapes onto the blanket.

slowly, carefully, he reached out, resting a hand against her arm. “can we—just. stay like this? for a bit?”

she turned toward him, eyes softening. then, instead of answering, she simply curled closer, letting herself nestle into his side, the fabric of his tee brushing against her cheek.

jisung let out a slow breath, his arm naturally slipping around her, his fingers resting against the dip of her waist.

she was warm.

he could feel her heartbeat, steady against his ribs, in sync with his own.

the scent of her shampoo filled his senses—something sweet, something vaguely floral, something hers.

the sound of their breathing intertwined with the faint music still playing from the laptop, a mix of their favorite songs.

jisung sighed, letting his cheek rest against the crown of her head. “you’re kinda dangerous, you know?”

yn hummed sleepily. “oh? why’s that?”

“because i don’t think i’ll ever want to sleep without you now.”

she smiled against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. “good thing i’m not going anywhere, then.”

and for the first time that night, jisung felt like maybe—just maybe—things had fallen into place exactly the way they were always meant to.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[moonstruckme]

It's me once again! Bothering you twice in a day, I'm annoying like that, ha just kidding. But yes James is soooo wholesome, it's crazy how he became my favorite boy. So Mae, I suppose you are super busy because being such amazing writer is no easy job when you have requests coming all the time but, if you have the time, whenever that is, could you write something about James? Like James being so wholesome, the best boyfriend, the fluffiest thing you can think of, maybe something with words or affirmation and kisses and hugs and just very lovely things, feel like I need that. If you can of course.

Hope you are having a very cool weekend and my username is basically my favorite colors and it has something to do with Van Gogh and my favorite singer but this kid knows something, haha it's so funny, kind of serendipitous if you ask me :) love that. Well, I'm going to set you free, read you soon.

P.S. Sorry this was so loonng

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!! Sorry this took so long lol, I had to wait until I had an idea that wasn't already in my requests but I appreciate your patience! This is perhaps more hurt/comfort than straight fluff lol, but he is the most wholesome ever <3

cw: concussion

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 603 words

James’ hand is especially gentle as he strokes over your hair. Your nose dents into his thigh, and his jeans are coarse and scratchy but the slight pressure is nice. 

“Still dizzy?” he asks, carefully quiet. 

“A little.” Your own voice is thin, fraught. “Not as bad.” 

He sighs, and you feel too weird to decipher whether it’s in relief or dismay. “I’m sorry, angel.” He lifts one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the side. “Is it hurting in any one place?” 

“It’s my whole face. But most in my forehead.” 

James’ touch is featherlight, ghosting over the spot where you’d smacked your head on the stairs. “Here?” 

“Mhm.” 

He makes a worried humming sound in response. You sit in silence for some time, and it’s not uncomfortable, but nothing is comfortable for you right now. You feel terrible, unlike yourself and unsettled because of that and also weepy but not as much as you are embarrassed. And dwelling upon any of this for too long makes your head spin worse. You don’t think you’re dying though it feels like you might be. 

The warm bead rolling down your nose brings you to the realization that you’re crying. James’ coo follows a moment later, and his hand splays protectively atop your head. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Do you feel alright to sit up?” 

“Okay,” you mumble. 

He does the work for you, though it’s hard to keep track of the movements. One second your head is on his lap and the next you’re propped against his chest, one muscled arm supporting your back while James rests his lips against your forehead. 

“You’re okay,” he promises. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” 

“I don’t really feel like going to dinner anymore,” you admit, tasting salt as a tear finds its way into your mouth. 

“Oh,” James lifts his lips to look you in the eyes, “honey, I didn’t expect you to. I’m going to call Remus and cancel in a minute, okay?” He brushes a lock of hair away from your face with his pinkie finger, stroking a sweet line down your cheek. “If you go anywhere, it should probably be to the doctor.” 

“No.” You close your eyes, too upset to care about the low whine that escapes you. “What’re they gonna do?” 

“I don’t know, baby.” James traces the same line again. “They might want to do an MRI or something. I’ve had a concussion before, they’re serious business.” 

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. The material of his jumper is soft beneath your cheek. “I can’t think about it right now.” 

There’s a brief pause. 

“Okay. Okay, we can talk about it tomorrow, if it’s still bad then.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to be sorry.” James’ arm wraps around your middle, squeezing lightly in a gentle sort of hug. You think that he’s being very careful with you, which you appreciate. You don’t imagine you could handle much more sensation at the moment. “I know it sucks, angel, and you’re handling it so well. We’re gonna do our best to get you feeling better. I love you so much, you know?” 

You feel like you might cry again. You don’t think you have the energy to stop yourself. “I know,” you tell him. “I love you so much, too.” 

“Heaps and heaps.” He gives you another little squeeze, his ability to repress his affection tenuous at best. “Probably the most anyone has ever loved anyone, if we’re being honest.” 

“James.” 

“Yeah?”

“I can’t do that kind of math right now. I love you a lot, okay?” 

“Okay. Same here.”

[reverie-starlight]

{PR DAY ~ sakusa kiyoomi}

MSBY manager!reader my beloved <3

it’s PR Day for the jackals and you, their manager, have the day off. so why is your boyfriend trying so hard to convince you to go with him?

gn!reader, fluff, an attempt at humor, atsumu slander (as much as it pains me, it comes with the territory of writing a fic like this 😔) suggestive in some parts. not nsfw at all, but explicit language is used and one conversation surrounds that topic, so read at your own risk <3 also, intentional tense-switch in the beginning!!! and just like the first part, it’s not explicitly mentioned, but reader and atsumu have known each other since high school.

part 1 of the mini-series

managing MSBY came with its ups and downs.

on one hand, you wouldn’t have met your boyfriend if it weren’t for this job. and you've never laughed as hard as you have been these past three years with coworkers before meeting the current core line up of the jackals.

but on the other? you had three massive fully grown children under your care. four, technically, if they managed to annoy sakusa enough that he stoops to their level of childishness.

which was unfortunately very often.

…

nearly every week.

…

fine, basically everyday.

and ever since your relationship was revealed to the team nearly a year ago, the “trouble trio” had been behaving exactly like you expected them to. the whole team was slightly insufferable about it, sure, but atsumu, hinata and bokuto really took it too the next level.

so obviously you really valued your days off.

and today was the first day off you’ve had in months. you refused to take off days during the busiest weeks of the season, but today was a PR day.

interviews, promotional videos for the official social media accounts, a livestream or two- all things you were more than happy to leave in the hands of the team’s PR and social media managers.

the birds were singing, the sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window and a cool breeze could be felt against your skin. the day was calm and you were so excited to relax and do all the things you had planned.

but of course, your hopes are just that.

you see your boyfriend standing in the doorway of your bedroom, looking like he wants to say something. your heart lurches into your throat.

“soooo,” he starts, not looking directly at you as he moves to the bed and looks at his laid out clothes. you’re already shaking your head before he can say anything else. he ignores this and proceeds to betray you. “if you wanted to tag along today, you could or whatever.”

he’s shameless. he knows how much you’ve been looking forward to today.

“kiyoomi. love of my life. my darling. what the fuck?”

he lets out a snort and looks down at you semi-pleadingly- a rare sight. “I’ll buy you coffee on the way there.”

oh, he’s bargaining? you smirk. “aww, baby,” you stand up and make your way over to him, dramatically twirling and falling back into him with the back of your hand touching your forehead and the other pressed to your chest. “you just can’t bear to be apart from me, can you?”

the pleading look in his eye fades and he gives you a disgusted look you know he doesn’t mean. his arms stay wrapped around you so you don’t fall. “you wish.”

you shrug and move back to your chair, finishing up your morning routine. “hmm I guess I’ll stay here then.”

you enjoy the silence for a moment before he sighs. “fine, two coffees.”

a loud laugh leaves your mouth when he says that. your boyfriend would never put this performance on for anyone else. it was as close to begging as you’d ever get from sakusa kiyoomi.

you shake your head and sigh. “my love, you know I’ve been looking forward to my day off for so long. why are you so insistent about me going with you?”

suddenly he’s behind your chair and leaning down so his breath tickles your ear. “coffee and lunch and maybe when we get back I could be convinced to try that thing you were talking about…” the words are backed up by a kiss to your jaw and some pointed eye contact through the mirror.

you widen your eyes and search his expression for any trace of a lie.

none.

you cannot believe you’re letting him convince you into this, but the offer is far too good to pass up.

you pretend to mull it over, then meet his eyes in the mirror again. “make sure the trouble trio don’t try to coerce me into working and we have a deal.”

“well of course, I was going to yell at them if they tried anything like that anyway.”

“perfect, then let’s seal it with a kiss.”

“only a kiss, baby, I feel your hands wandering.” he pecks your lips quickly and pulls away before you can deepen it.

you pout. “can you blame me? you’ve got me all excited now.”

he shakes his head fondly and straightens up, moving to put the shirt his stylist had insisted upon for the upcoming interviews. you had to hand it to her- she knew exactly what she was doing.

you watch him with hawk eyes and he just turns his head to look at you in amusement. “stop staring at me and get ready, you perv, we have to leave soon.”

as soon as you step into the building where all the other jackals are, you’re bombarded with confused greetings.

“hey, I thought it was your day off?”

“ayy, manager’s here! good to see ya.”

“what are you doing here? you weren’t scheduled for today, were you?”

you sigh and sip your coffee, letting go of sakusa’s hand as you speak to the coach. “no, I wasn’t. I was kidnapped and brought here by one of your wing spikers.”

he chuckles and glances over at your boyfriend, who is looking up at the ceiling and avoiding eye contact. “I see. well, if anyone tries to get you to work today, just let me know and I’ll help sakusa put them in their places.”

you smile kindly. “thank you, sir, I appreciate it.”

as soon as he walks away, you’re surrounded by the three people you wanted to see least today.

a long sigh leaves your lips as atsumu, hinata and bokuto stare at you in wonder.

“just get it over with,” you grumble.

“how much do ya wanna bet he promised something outrageous?” atsumu.

“what, like an all expenses paid vacation?” hinata.

“no, it’s omi-omi, it wouldn’t make sense for him to take time off in the middle of game season.”

you roll your eyes at their back and forth and glance over at the man in question, who appears to be glowering. you can almost picture the scowl underneath his mask. “you’re all idiots,” he states.

“hey! I haven’t even said anything yet!” bokuto protests.

“yes, but I can practically hear the gears in your brain grinding.”

“I’ll bet it’s a sex thing,” atsumu interrupts just as bokuto is about to defend himself.

you all freeze and stare at him.

your boyfriend, deadly calm, says “miya, I will skin you alive.”

the blonde, who absolutely loves getting a rise out of sakusa, just smirks. “oh, so I’m right then?” he turns to you and slings an arm over your shoulder. “tell me, dear manager, what exactly did he have to agree to in order to get ya to show up on your day off?”

you flick his forehead and shake your head disapprovingly. “none of your business, you freak. just 'cause your dating life isn’t going too well right now doesn’t mean you can pry into mine. download tinder or something if you’re that bored.”

bokuto and hinata snicker at that, but straighten up quickly when he shoots them a glare. suddenly, meian stalks up behind the three of them and clears his throat.

“if you’re all done terrorizing our manager, our social media team is ready for us now. hurry up.” he nods at you with an apologetic smile and drags atsumu away from you. “sakusa, you too. we’ve been waiting for a while now.”

as soon as his teammates walk away and he’s sure they’re not watching him, he slumps a bit and you notice the tips of his ears have gone red. you smile at him in amusement and pat his cheek, the action only slightly awkward due to his mask.

“aw lighten up, kiyoomi, I’m used to dealing with atsumu by now. just ignore him, he wouldn’t dream of bringing that up again if he knows what’s good for him.”

he sighs and drops his shoulders, relief washing over him now that he knows you’re not regretting your decision to come with him. he slips off his mask and presses a quick kiss to your lips. “alright. I love you, just enjoy the show.”

you take his mask and walk with him to the rest of the group so that they can start with the promotional videos.

it’s fun to watch, honestly, because the team’s dynamic does work well for the cameras. they’re not even playing anything up.

you sit through the promo videos they need to film for upcoming games, the silly one-off fluff questions and the fan asks for their instagram page before they’re allowed a break.

sakusa stalks over to you with a small scowl and you smile. “you’re doing great, handsome.”

his expression softens a bit and he offers you a kiss on the forehead. “thank you, darling. care for some lunch?”

you nod and pull him out the door before a certain trio can invite themselves to the impromptu lunch date.

you walk in comfortable silence towards the building’s food court before something pops into your mind. “kiyoomi, you never answered my question from earlier.”

he hums in acknowledgment. “and what might that be?”

“why were you so insistent on me joining you today?”

he doesn’t answer for a moment, but you wait patiently. you know he’s not ignoring you.

finally he sighs and squeezes your hand. “I feel like we haven’t been spending much time together lately outside of work… and I was hoping that by bringing you with me today we’d be able to have at least some time together…” his voice is low, but he’s not shy about it.

you fiddle with the chain around your neck, one he bought for you a while back. "that's very sweet of you, kiyo."

"and..." he hesitates a bit, but you squeeze his hand in return to encourage him. "I feel more relaxed in front of the cameras when you're there."

you melt a little bit. "I'm happy I make you feel that way, kiyoomi. thank you for kidnapping me on my day off, I suppose."

he snorts and you smile. you're about to lean in to pull his mask down for a kiss, but you're interrupted. of course.

"hey, hey, hey! there you guys are! we saw you leaving so figured we'd get lunch with you!"

you honestly don't think you could ever be mad at bokuto, but he is seriously testing your patience right now. not far behind him are atsumu and hinata, one looking smug and the other a bit sheepish. one of them probably brought up your departure to bokuto, either on purpose or accidentally you'd never know.

you sigh and pat sakusa on the back. "yeah, come on. you're all paying for your own, though."

you both ignore the whines of the fully grown children behind you and continue walking hand in hand.

~~~~

BONUS:

"so this question is directed at sakusa..." atsumu reads the question silently and the team watches as he holds back a laugh.

you watch as your boyfriend narrows his eyes at the blonde in front of him and you sigh. things had been going so well up until now.

it’s past lunch break now, and their social media manager had just given them a box full of printed out tweets with fan questions to answer. she snickers to herself as if she knows which question it is and looks pointedly at you from behind the phone she’s recording on.

you blink in confusion, but everything is made clear when atsumu opens his mouth again.

“omi-omi, user @/kiyosdear wants to know if you’re single, or if you’re in need of a dog, because they’re more than willing to bark.”

the social media manager giggles, as does the rest of the team. you feel your eye twitch a bit, but you’re easily able to shove down any possession you feel in the moment.

it’s obviously impossible to ignore so many people vying for his attention all the time, but sometimes it could be a little funny to see how flustered your boyfriend could become from the unwanted attention.

you smile at the small scowl that forms. “no thank you. I’d want nothing less.”

atsumu snorts at his curt answer and hands the box to him. sakusa picks out a question and reads it to himself before blushing furiously and turning his face away from the camera. you watch curiously as meian looks over his shoulder to see what could have garnered that reaction from him and his eyes trail to you amusedly.

the social media manager looks like she’s having a field day, zooming in on sakusa’s red face for a moment. it’s not often something flusters him that badly after all. she’ll milk it for all it’s worth.

the captain pries the paper out of your boyfriend’s hand and reads it out loud.

“@/msby_luvr asks, yo @/sakusakiyoomi, is your team's manager single? totally unrelated, @/msbymanager, are you free on thursday?"”

it’s not exactly a secret to the public that there’s something going on between you two, they just don’t know what that something is.

of course neither of you ever confirm or deny anything, but you imagine being asked outright like that is what caught him off guard.

the camera cuts to you, “offstage” laughing at the question and shaking your head a little in amusement.

or maybe he’s not shy, but rather jealous?

that’s kind of sweet.

regardless, you speak up for him, knowing he wouldn't answer. "I am not single, but thanks for asking."

the camera pans back to the team, just in time to catch the tail end of atsumu clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder.

sakusa gives you a small smile, clearly relieved you took over for him, and goes back to focusing on the interview.

hinata, the poor thing, reads the next question. “oh boy… @/msbymanager asks, sakusa and atsumu rivals to lovers arc when?”

you cackle as both men whip their heads in your direction, betrayal and incredulity on their faces.

raising your hands, you said to them “in my defence, I was still miffed about being dragged here on my day off when I sent it in!”

atsumu loudly refuted the question and the jeers from his teammates, but that was all drowned out by the look your boyfriend sent your way.

you sighed. you were really in for it later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ll 100% be doing more MSBY manager!reader. and I’ll do more PR scenarios as well, bc as much fun as this was to write, it didn’t have as much as I wanted to include. but I’ll have to do more research. thank you for reading!! and happy birthday sakusa <3

tags: @dira333 (ty for inspiring me to turn it into a mini-series) @emmyrosee (Ik you love Sakusa and you wanted the WIP for this a long time ago)

[glitterjay]

can u please please please write husbandgirldad!Jay x fem Reader (idol Jay) and he comes home after a long day of work and misses his wife

(smut)

⭒ husband!jay, idol!jay, wife!reader, married, they have 2 daughters, pet names, praising, soft dom jay, coming inside, there's some fluff, minors dni

⭒ c's note: i've become even more delulu because this man is soooo husband material 😞 i need him so bad its not even a joke anymore

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs @fertilizedtoesw

please reblog if you like it! it helps me a lot

the idol life behind cameras was way harder than people imagined. the public eye does not see the amount of hard work and training idols have to go through every day to be able to give their audience an excellent performance. the support of fans is crucial for artists to be successful and so they had to fulfill things according to their preferences.

it was a big deal when jay wanted to put out in the light his relationship with you back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was a risk he was willing to take. to both of your surprises, the news didnt receive as much backlash as you expected, with some people saying jay was already an adult tat knew what he wanted, and it was his life to live anyway.

now you were openly his wife, and you and your two girl were known of. the only difference was that nobody knew who his wife or kids were. your relationship had been open ever since you were just dating, but for your privacy and now your girls' sake, jay never put your faces to the light.

he was preparing for a comeback, so he was hardly home during the day, and was only there at night to rest and then went back to work early in the morning. your two daughters said they missed their dad, and that they wanted to play with him and see him in person, not through facetime like they had grown used to for the past month. it was hard to tell them he was busy, but it was all you could say.

promotions would be over eventually, and he'd be back home for a while before the company decided to give him another comeback. it was tough to get used to at first, but the routine became a part of you.

-

it was already pretty late at night. your oldest daughter who was already 6 years old had gone to bed after a shower while you tried to comfort your crying 3 year old. she was a little irritated because she was tired, but she kept repeating the word "dada" over and over. it broke your heart, but it was too late to keep waiting, and she was evidentially falling asleep as the seconds passed.

as you tried to sing her to sleep, you heard the front door open. it had caused her to open her eyes again, and she started crying once more. you sighed and took her with you to the living room to greet your husband, who smiled as soon as he saw the both of you enter his field of vision.

"what is this little one doing awake?" he asked, taking the little girl from your arms to hold her in his. she quickly laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, it was as easy as that. she missed her dad and you couldnt blame her for it.

"she was being grumpy and stubborn. she wanted to wait for you and refused to sleep. our oldest princess couldnt make it, she went straight to bed on her own like a big girl."

jay laughed and kissed the little girl's temple, giving you a kiss on the lips after. "i'll put her to sleep with her sister and then we can catch up, mmkay?"

-

it was very sweet to see your busy husband make some time to see his daughters even if he was exhausted. he was leaning on the frame of their room's door staring at them with glistening eyes. it was the same look he had on his face when they were born. you would stay up for him and you would ask how things were going with his schedules, but it didnt last long most of the time. you were both tired, him from all the training, and you from doing everything around the house and taking care of the kids. being a mom is a full time job as well.

you waited for him in your shared bed, already getting comfortable as he changed his clothes. you laid on your side, your back facing his part of the bed, and you sighed. the day had seemed to be longer and more tiring than other, and you didnt think you'd stay awake much longer.

you felt the other side of the bed sink as jay laid down, quickly pressing his chest to your back, hugging you tightly and giving you kisses all over your neck and shoulders. you missed him. his scent, his voice, his touch. it didnt take much time for you to feel his hips moving under the covers, something rock solid poking your ass. jay was still incredibly close to you, and you could feel him breathing on your ear. his hands roamed your body, tickling your tummy as they passed by every inch of skin he could possibly touch. you closed your eyes and melted on his arms.

his hands found a stop on the hem of your sleeping shorts, sliding in past your panties as well to touch where you needed most. you let out a shaky gasp, throwing your head back to rest it on jay's body. he was still busy kissing all over your neck and shoulders, biting and licking as well. his hand was doing wonders to your clit and hole, it was a charm that was still there despite all this years.

in all honesty, jay missed all the intimacy you used to have as boyfriend and girlfriend, which was soon lost when his girls, who were his pride and joy, came into the world, and his busy schedules. the stress was starting to pile up on his shoulders, and there was nothing else he longed for more than having you all to himself like he used to.

he removed the covers that were covering both of you, and hovered over your body. he positioned himself between your legs, and stayed there for a good minute just admiring you. for some reason, his gaze made you feel intimidated, and you looked away. this caused him to reach for you face and force you to look up at him again. "is it just me, or do you look more stunning as the days go by?"

it was like your first time all over again. the sweet talk, the ghosting touches, the nervousness, the excitement that came with it, it was just beautiful. jay was quick to get his, and your lower half naked. his dick was free and for a moment your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. was he always this big?

he aligned his tip with your entrance and you saw him throw his head back at the contact. he was overly sensitive and he could've sworn the rest of his life flashed before his eyes. there was just something about you that made him go crazy in every sense, and not being able to have a moment like this in a long time had thrown him over the edge.

once he was fully in, he let you adjust for a few seconds. your walls were clenching hard on him, swallowing his cock entirely. he wanted to move, he wanted to thrust, he wanted to make you scream, but it wasnt the same as before. there were two girls soundly asleep in a room a few steps away. he had to go slow and plus, he wanted the moment to last as long as it could.

he was gentle, moving with a steady but not too fast pace. your hands held to his strong arms, which held your waist tightly. the ring on your hand was glowing and so was the one on his hand. it was a cute thing to see. jay could see the way his pace made your body move up and down and it was an amazing sight to watch.

"missed you so fuckin' much." he said between thrusts.

all you could do was groan and gasp in return. you were biting your lip to retrain your noises as much as you could. you knew that if you replied with words, your own voice would betray you, and jay would definitely make you moan out loud on purpose.

" 'm gonna make you mine again."

his words were not only directed at you, but at your pussy as well. his right hand left your waist to play with your clit, and you had to let go of his arms to cover your mouth. jay knew you were close by the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and how you body was starting to shake.

"fucking hell, you're so hot. cum for me, baby."

and right on command, you released on him, gasping for air as you tried to push him away with everything you had. it had been a long time since you came this hard, it was overwhelming to still have him inside you. to your dismay, he would keep going until he was done.

"hold on a little bit, honey. you're doing so well for me."

it was hard to hold in a scream, and jay was aware of it. the hand that was once playing with your bundle of nerves made its way to your face, where he inserted to fingers into your mouth.

"that a girl. stay busy, love. let me use you while i can."

with groans and low moans, he came inside you. the warm sensation made you have yet again another orgasm, and your sight became fuzzy. there was a ringing in your ears from the rush that died down quickly when you felt your husband kissing your thighs to soothe you up.

"im sorry for finishing inside like that," he said. "it just had been so long since i last did it.. three years to be exact."

you laughed it off with the last bit of energy you had left, and signed for him to get closer with your hand. you grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. "thankfully, i've been on the pill ever since."

"bummer, i wanted a third."

© glitterjay

[renren-006]

Over The Years- Daryl x Fem Reader

plot: being in love with daryl through the years but he’s clueless

word count: 2639

a/n: hey! i love that you guys have been eating up my Daryl Fics soooo heres another one. this took me sooo long to write so oi hope you enjoy!!

This has been posted on AO3- Over The Years

taglist: @rosecentury

Atlanta - 1:

"you've been staring at him all day, y/n," Lori said, coming to your side. You were standing by the van, 'helping Dale,' watching Daryl do whatever he was doing in his little area. You offered to help, but the man shooed you off.

"I'm not," you told her; she gave you the mom look she gave Carl, making you cave. "okay, so what if I am?"

"Just be careful, hunny," she told you, "he's not the type to realize his or your feelings."

"I know," you told Lori. This wasn't the first of these conversations, but it was the last time someone told you to be careful.

Atlanta - 2:

"If yer trying to fish here, yer in the wrong spot," Daryl said as he came up behind you on a rock, trying to catch fish or just waste the day away.

"I figured," you told him, hitting the empty bucket you had. "I'm just…"

"Tryna' not to be bored?" He asked you. You nodded.

"You want to know how ta' catch fish?" he asked; you smiled and nodded, reeling the cast in and handing him the pol, following him to a different spot and spending the rest of the afternoon taking tips from him on fishing. If someone asked you what you learned, you could only tell them that Daryl's eyes looked almost green in the sunlight.

Farm - 1:

you saw him take his stuff and walk off; he hiked over weeds to his area a yelling distance away. Carol watched you watch the man walking away from the group's solidarity.

"he's stubborn," she commented; you nodded. You faced her, to see she was already watching you. "he's stubborn with his feelings too."

"I know. I know both those things," you told Carol; she nodded. She walked off after patting your back, knowing you knew the unsaid things in the air. You continued working around the group, keeping watch, cooking dinner, and helping with the Greene family. Maggie became a close friend of yours through the days on the farm.

Farm - 2:

"Hey," you said as you stood in the doorway. Daryl glanced up from bed, his shirt half on over his bandages.

"Hey," he said, not responding more to you entering his room.

"Just wanted to check on you."

"Dont need ya to," Daryl said, trying to hide from you more and more. You stood in the doorway still, knowing entering wouldn't go well.

"I didn't ask if you did," you told him. "I'm in the kitchen; shout if you want anything."

Part of you wanted to give more care to him, show him you cared, but you knew him well enough to know he didn't need that from you. He nodded his head at you, and you closed the door again. Then, he walked down back to the kitchen to help Maggie with lunch.

Farm - 3:

"Ya need help," Daryl asked. You were trying to get a sheet of wood up on the window to nail it shit, but you only had two hands. He came up and grabbed the wood from you, holding it up for you

"Thank you," you told him, and he grunted back at you. You finished up nailing in the panels with his help.

"You need any help?"

"Nah, I got it," he said, leaving after helping you. Things were still the same between the two of you, you thought. Daryl, however, couldn't see how he was growing to care for you.

On the road:

You never planned on getting hurt, but it just happened. You, Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie were off in a group scouting a building you had seen. Rick had made the five of you go to keep an eye on each other and get as much stuff as possible. You walked in first, knife in hand, Glenn close behind with a flashlight. Maggie and Daryl took the rear, much to Daryl's dismay.

Once you were all inside the building, you realized this used to be a Military compound, a small one, but it still had some things left inside. There was an airfield outside, probably a small compound not used for much. Once you split off from everyone, you wandered around the shelving units, finding some rations. When you didn't see the ceiling being held up by one of the shelving units and when you accidentally bumped into it, part of the roof came falling down. You yelled as part of it fell on top of you, crushing your ankle. Daryl was the first person over to you, rushing to see what was wrong.

"The roof! I didn't see," you said, grinding your teeth. Daryl stood there, eyes wide at seeing you on the floor with half the ceiling on your leg. "Daryl!" you practically yelled at him. The shock of you yelling shocked him out of his daze, and he rushed to lift the wood off your leg. Glen and Maggie rushed over soon after seeing the aftermath of the roof collapse and Daryl lifting it off you.

"What happened?" Maggie asked as she picked me up. I hobbled a bit, yelping when I put my left leg down. "Shit"

"The roof...I didn't see that it was falling, and the shelves were holding it up," you said, "I think I fucked up my ankle."

"How could ya not look?" Darly said angrily, "Now ya hurt and.."

"Hey, it's fine, Daryl. She didn't know. This could have happened to any of us," Glenn defended. "Let's look for crutches; they have to have some here. After you look around, you find some crammed in the back of a closet and leave the building. Daryl hung back with you while you were trying to walk.

"I shouldenta' yelled," Daryl said, breaking your silence. You nodded, knowing he was only trying to look after you.

"It's okay."

"Nah, it's not," he told you, stopping you from walking any further "Sorry"

"It's okay, Daryl, really. I was stupid anyway."

"Nah, coulda' happened to anyone," he said. During the rest of the walk, you had a small smile, and Daryl had a hand on your back guiding you. He didn't want you to fall again, let alone on his watch.

Prison:

The prison setting took everyone a while to settle into it; Daryl, however, took to it really fast, moving into one of the guard towers. You desperately wanted to be near him again, not only because you knew how you felt but also because he was the only person you felt truly safe around. You watched him go back to that guard station every night after dinner just outside the cell block. You turned back into your bunk at the end of the hall, far from everyone and enough privacy that you felt calm. Carol already knew about your affection for the archer and tried many times to get the two of you to sit next to each other. You moved, always, leaving the spot open for Glenn to take and talk Daryl's ear off about whatever he had found on a run that day. You took your spot next to Maggie, who silently let you watch the archer with no complaints.

That was months ago.

"Why don't you join us on the run tomorrow?" Maggie asked you, "We need to find stuff for Judith."

"Yes, I'll come."

"No, ya won't," Daryl said, walking up behind the two of you outside.

"Daryl, I'm fine. I'm going."

"Then I'm coming'" He said, glaring daggers at the two of you and going to get his bike ready.

"Ass," you muttered to him as he walked away; he didn't seem to hear you.

"He cares," Maggie said as you grabbed the bags by the upper gate. You signed, you knew that but for some reason, he had distanced himself, or maybe you had

"Whatever," you said and made your way down the path. The pickup truck was made for two, and Daryl knew that.

"Hop on," he said, riding up to you. You looked at him, and it seemed like he knew you wanted him there. You climbed on behind him and headed out with the others. The ride was quiet, but it spoke enough about the two of you that no words needed to be spoken.

Daryl and you scouted a house; all was quiet between you two. You found an unopened can of peanut butter and showed it to him, he smiled over at you.

"Who knew we'd find it," he told you, taking it from your hands.

"Guess you're my good luck charm," you told him, grabbing the can back and putting it in your bag. When you glanced back, he was looking at you. "Daryl?"

"Nah, it's nothin'," he said, snapping out of his daze. "I'm looking upstairs," he said, moving away from you and up to the tip floor. You continued rummaging through the downstairs before heading out to the porch and waiting for Daryl.

Prison:

Daryl didn't get jealous. You had never seen him that way. It was early in the morning, everyone was outside, and you were helping Carol with the food prep. One of the guys from the town you saved had a very obvious thing for you. He was younger than you, but it didn't bother him. He made a move that morning in Daryl's direct eyesight. He had come over, taking your ear off, and then he got close, trying to grab or touch you. You had stepped away, trying to tell him that you didn't see him like that and that he needed to give you space. He didn't listen. Daryl barged over and tugged the guy back from you.

"Didn't ya hear? She said to back off," Daryl said, putting himself between him and you.

"Oh, shit! Hi Daryl!" the guy said, unaware that Daryl could rip this guy to shreds. You put your hand on his bicep, feeling it flex under your touch.

"I'm fine," you told him calmly. He looked back at you, seeing that you were relieved he stopped in but worried he would rip the guy to shreds.

"Good," he said, pushing the guy back, "don't ya go near her again," the guy nodded, running off, getting the message.

On the run:

You were with Daryl and Beth, wandering around the unfamiliar world. It was a miracle that you found Beth during the invasion and even more so that Daryl made a B-line for you. When the three of you started on your journey, it was slow. Daryl watched for the two of you Until Beth was taken in the night.

"Beth!" you yelled, "Beth!"

"C'mon," Daryl said, tugging you back from the road and away from the walker's grouping. "Well, find her."

You walked after that car for miles until your feet couldn't take it, and you collapsed. Daryl wanted to drop beside you, but he couldn't.

That was when the real test of being back out in the world came. These men that Daryl didn't want to join but did anyway made your skin crawl. The way they looked at you, the way they wanted you, it made you sick. Daryl quickly understood the rules, realizing I got no say in anything in this group and was merely seen as an item for the taking.

"She's mine," He said, causing the boys upfront to look back at the two of you. You were behind Daryl, per his request. "Aint no one touching her."

"Boss! He can't do that," one yelled.

"Rules are rules," the boss said, "She's his."

Still didn't stop looking or not sleeping. Daryl noticed it; of course, he did.

There was one man both of you knew who didn't care about the rules. One night in particular proved this to Daryl and the rest of the men. He had left you no longer than a few minutes in a different direction than you out in the woods when the man sprung on you. You tried to grab your knife, but he was already prepared to stop you. You were helpless as he tried to get his way with you.

"Don't scream now," he said, with his hand over your mouth, suppressing any screams you tried to get out. You started hitting him, making him yell back in pain from it. "Crazy bitch” he said, slapping you.

"Daryl!" you yelled, scrambling to get up. The man behind you grabbed your leg, making you fall to the ground. "Daryl!" you screamed again, knowing that was your last attempt at calling for the archer. Your breath was completely knocked out of you. You heard fast-moving, crunching footsteps as the man tried to turn you over, and then, nothing. You turned, seeing an arrow between his eyes and the man falling back. You scrambled away, trying to catch your breath as Daryl jumped to hold you.

"I'm sorry," he said into your hair as you held onto him, too shoved to say a word. The world became quiet in his arms.

On the run:

The road to salvation was long. The group had been walking for days; hope was dwindling. You lagged, not having much energy for things anymore. Daryl is always stuck by your side, never leaving the comfort of your space. He had been quiet for a while, keeping his thoughts locked away. You stopped walking, alerting Daryl but not the others.

"Hey?" he asked, looking back at you and watching him.

"somethings wrong with you, and you won't tell me," you told him, matter a fact. "I know there is."

'aint nothin'"

"Nothing? Really? You haven't left my side since the…¦," you said, drifting off, not wanting to mention the near attack you had. "Since you know when I feel like I can't breathe without you worrying."

"I.."

"What is wrong?" you pressed; Maggie had seen that you had stopped and told the others to slow the pace a bit. You knew she probably understood that what was happening with the two of you needed to be talked about away from the group, so she kept them moving slowly. "I can't stand to see ya hurt anymore," he told me, knowing somethin' was on his mind. "I can't stand thinkin' somethin' happen if i leave ya"

"Daryl, that's not your responsibility," you said.

"maybe it should be," Daryl said.

"What?"

"I care about you a lot" he said, looking down, "I love ya"

The world stopped when he said those words, something he had never even said to Carol or Rick, ever or often. You took his hands in yours, making him look at you.

"I have loved you since we were on that mountain in Atlanta," you told him, "I have always loved you."

"ya have?"

"How could I not, Daryl?" you said; he smiled a bit, something you had not seen in a very long time.

"You my woman now," he told you, "you've been mine since I told those men you were."

"I'll always be yours; you never have to worry about that."

Extra:

Alexandria: (years later)

"How long have I been an idiot?" Daryl asked Carol. They were both lounging on the porch in Alexandria, watching you chase after a little brown-haired girl. She was only two, but she had spirit. You were smiling so big that Daryl felt like his heart was melting.

"You've been an idiot for as long as she's been in love with you

ain't helping" Daryl said, shoving Carol a bit.

"I think you started falling for her when we were in Prison"

"yea…your right"

"You were stubborn to let yourself feel until you almost lost her," Carol said. Daryl nodded, not wanting to admit that it took a life-or-death situation for him to truly know he couldn't ever lose you.

[01zfan]

contact

ex!shotaro x ex!reader | 11k words

i unfortunately went crazy with the backstory on this but i love economics major shotaro so i had to write about him. also the ex that comes to help you without hesitation is SOOOO him. this was fun to write i hope you guys have fun reading heh. how this ended up being 11k words is beyond me.

contains: college setting, mommy issues mentioned in passing, a funeral (purely just for the setting), reader is tipsy (they talk about it), unprotected sex (shotaro pulls out)

contact: part 1 | part 2

Anyone who passed by the library could feel the collective anguish of the students trapped inside. By no means were they preparing last minute for their assignments and tests that were coming up, in fact they were ahead of their peers. The students that were smart and disciplined enough to spend their Saturday nights locked away in study rooms still suffered the same, they just did it before everyone else. 

That’s what Shotaro was doing currently with his study group. They were currently seven deep, occupying the biggest table the main room of the library had to offer. Even if no food or drink was allowed in the study space, this late into the night there was an unspoken rule that you could have a snack and an energy drink on the condition you cleaned up after yourself. Shotaro’s group took full advantage of this rule—plastic wrappers from the vending machine snacks were spread across the table. Crumbs from chips and cookies were on top of keyboards and condensation from iced coffees and chilled energy drinks made the pages of their notebooks wet. Despite the mess all of them were locked into their screens or their journals, going over assignments and final projects like their lives depended on it.

“Hyung, whats the four types of labor in economics?” Anton, the only non-declared economics major in the group looked across the table to Eunseok.

Despite being a labor economics major Eunseok still sarcastically looked up to the sky like he didn’t know the answer. Shotaro took a break from typing his economic theory paper to lightly push into Eunseok’s side. He had the habit of picking on Anton, but that seemed to come with the territory of being the youngest. Anton always took it in stride, purposefully grumbling out loud to illicit a reaction from his hyungs. When Eunseok was done teasing Anton he went back to his notebook, writing something from a lecture he was watching on his laptop.

“There’s skilled, unskilled, semi-skilled, and—” Eunseok looked expectantly to Anton. 

Anton’s question broke the stretching silence of the group. Hearing two humans interact with eachother in God knows how long caught everyones attention. Sohee lifted his headphones from his ear waiting for the answer. Everyone waited for anton to answer with bated breath, like it was a game of jeopardy. 

What is traditional labor? Anton asks with a smile that tells everyone he already knows he’s wrong. 

There’s a collective groan at the table. Eunseok puts his head in his hands at the wrong answer and Sungchan just laughed in his face. The late night was making everything a little more funny, and Anton’s terrible attempt at knowing about economics made the serious atmosphere of the study group crumble.

“You are shit at economics.” Wonbin delivered his insult with sincerity, complete with a slow shake of his head.

“What the hell is traditional labor anyways?” Sungchan asked, looking around the table for an answer.

Anton even laughed about his terrible attempt to know about labor economics. He smiled to himself and shook his head before letting it hang. 

Shotaro felt for the youngest, he really did. He was still a freshman with so much time to decide on his focus in economics—or to switch his major all together. Shotaro almost reminded Eunseok how bad he was at economics before someone’s phone started vibrating against the table.

Aftershocks of Anton’s wrong answer fizzled as they tried to figure out who was the culprit. People who were sitting at other tables had already lifted their heads from their assignments due to Sungchan’s loud laugh, but they were laser focused on the table that was defying the strict no sound policy. 

Shotaro reactivated the sleeping screen on his laptop to get back to work. He was in the middle of rereading the details of an incentive program for a fake company to evaluate the opportunity cost. The contacts he wore felt uncomfortable on his eyes as he focused back. Shotaro leaned back in his uncomfortable creaking chair and let his friends scramble to find the buzzing phone, but when he readjusted his headphones back on his ears he heard the automated voice of his phone saying an unknown number was calling him. Shotaro quickly grabbed his phone that was beside his notebook to decline the call.

For a moment he thought that he forgot to activate the study mode option on his phone. But he remembered his impenetrable do not disturb was null and void if someone cared to call him more than once. Just as Shotaro saw the notification for a separate missed call and a voicemail his phone started ringing again. 

Receiving a call this late into the night was odd. Receiving it from a phone number he didn’t recognize was even more odd. Shotaro examined the area code, wracking his mind for another number in his contact list that started with the same digits. He noticed that there wasn’t a spam likely hanging near the number either. 

When everyone realized who the culprit was, they started looking one by one. Sungchan looked first, peering from the side of his laptop to stare at Shotaro staring at his phone. Wonbin who sat next to Sungchan was second, and then Eunseok who sat on the other side of Shotaro looked next. Within seconds everyone at the table was looking at Shotaro’s phone. The only thing that pulled Shotaro away from his still vibrating phone was Wonbin calling out to him.

“Hyung, are you gonna answer it?” Wonbin asked.

“Who is it?” Sohee asked.

Everyone shifted in their seats at Sohee’s straightforward question. The thing everyone in the nosy friend group wanted to ask but were too scared to. Sohee couldn’t be bothered, moreso annoyed with the fact that the phone was still vibrating.

“It’s a number I don’t have saved.” Shotaro said as the screen on his laptop timed out again.

Shotaro heard his friends at the table shift in their seats. He could feel all of them trying to inconspicuously exchange looks, trying to remain neutral. Anton went back to looking at his assignment after making a face that was entirely too obvious. 

After Shotaro’s phone was finally done ringing and he looked at his friends he noticed all of their sullen faces. He ran his fingers over the trackpad and focused on the potential return of giving hypothetical loyal customers a discount on goods.

“It’s not her you guys.” Shotaro assured. I have her number memorized, and that’s not it.

Instantly Shotaro felt the rest of his friends avert eye contact to focus back on their assignments. Silence fell over all of them, one that was so awkward Shotaro had to clear his throat.

Shotaro couldn’t really blame his friends walking on eggshells. The relationship lasted a majority of college, starting from freshmen orientation and ending exactly twenty-two days ago; ironically around the same time this study group was created. Shotaro and you were likened to the parents as the friend group, and his friends were definitely handling it like a divorce.

Shotaro appreciated the concern, but at the same time he didn’t understand why they were so squeamish and almost scared to bring it up. Yes Shotaro announced the breakup suddenly, just by saying casually yeah we broke up when they asked where you were. Yes Shotaro locked into his academics a little too hard, and yes he has been picking up extra shifts at his job. But that was in no way related to his recent breakup. You two ended things amicably. You even met in a neutral setting with your friends needlessly close by while you gave eachother your belongings back. 

Shotaro still thought about the stone table in the park in front of one another when you slid a cardboard box of his belongings over to his side.

“Let me know if I missed anything, but I think I got it all.” You said quietly.

After nodding, Shotaro did the same. Your box had more things in it, he remembers looking at the ring you gifted him still on his index finger as he pushed his cardboard box across the top of the table to you.

“Thanks. I think I got everything too.” He said.

You two texted eachother that gifts were okay to keep, but Shotaro noticed your eyes settled on the ring a little too long. His eyes went to your necklace that no longer had the gold S charm attached to it. He knew better than to expect you to wear something that essentially told everyone you were his, but he wondered if you still had the tiny dolls he gifted you dangling from your backpack or if that would also be in the box of things that were technically his but basically yours. The hoodie that smelled like you now was neatly folded on top and covered everything else. Like the worst mystery box of all time, Shotaro would eventually have to go home and find out what was his now. But he swallowed that forming stone in his throat that had been there for the past week and smiled to you.

“I’ll still be here. If you ever need me.” He said.

The two of you were sitting at that table while life went on in the park for what felt like centuries. You were handling the situations like adults—so overwhelmingly respectful and understanding that your friends thought you two were freaks—so why did it hurt so bad? Why were you both gripping your belongings like you didn’t want to take them back?

“If you need anything, call me.” He said.

He let his promise linger in the air as you smiled and nodded. You looked up to Shotaro one last time before walking off to your friend that was sitting at the park bench. He still felt your hand that clasped over his for a split second as he watched you and your friend leave together. After you were out of his line of sight Shotaro felt Sungchan finally approach him. His friends hand that clasped over his shoulder reminded him that the world was in fact still spinning, and he still had a class to attend. 

The work from that class was what he should’ve been focused on now. The awkward silence of the study group finally shifted back to what it was before as everyone locked back into their work. Shotaro was the only one who wasn’t focused—his chin wasn’t in his hands from thinking about the graphs in front of him but from wondering who that was calling him. His mind racked through the list of people he had recently given his phone number to. That group project in Statistics was through email, and he never gave that girl at the bar his number. His eyes cut to his phone beside his laptop, face down again as he thought about the voicemail notification. 

He felt an itching in the back of his mind, the urge to rub at his eyes only made him feel more restless. He heard the sound of the clocks ticking further into the night. Before he knew it, Shotaro was pushing his chair out from the table and grabbing his phone. He grabbed the attention of other people in the library and his study group again as he pushed his chair back into the table.

“Gonna go get more snacks.” Shotaro preemptively spoke seeing the looks of confusion and Sohee’s lips part. “Text me if you guys want anything.” He whispered.

Shotaro walked away from the table, and when his back was facing his friends he took his phone out. He cleared past his lockscreen, settling onto his call log. He switched to the ten second voicemail when he was past the quiet zone of the library, and when he was in a space alone he pressed play and brought his phone to his ear.

For a split second, Shotaro thought it would just be white noise on the other end of the line. Another spam bot that surpassed the spam likely warning and was talking to the void of his mailbox waiting for a human reply. 

But then he heard a shaky inhale of breath and his eyes widened.

“Taro?” 

You were the one trapped in his voicemail box. Shotaro almost said your name back in the same confused tone before his mind registered it was a recording, but as soon as you were there, you were gone. As if you had realized it was a voicemail, you ended the call only to hopelessly call again. Shotaro held his phone to his ear still in shock before hearing the sounds around you abruptly cut off. He pulled his phone from his face and went back to the call logs, not hesitating to press on the unsaved number.

Shotaro walked around in the empty space in front of the large wooden double doors leading to the library as the line rang. He couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to the worst. As the line continued to ring he replayed the hopelessness in your voice as you called out his name and what he thought was a sniffle beforehand. His stomach was in knots as he closed his eyes, trying to will you to answer the phone.

“Taro?”

Shotaro froze in place. His fingers went to the volume button on the side of his phone. They pressed up, up, up while he stood there in shock.

“Taro? Are you there?” 

The bibimbap from the dining hall churned in his stomach as your weak voice filtered through the phone. You were so loud but so quiet at the same time. The background noise of the call almost overtook your voice. He heard what he assumed to be yelling until the receiver of the phone focused back on you.

“I’m sorry to call but I’m at a wake and I drank too much,” You paused and Shotaro could hear you sniffle again. He perked up from his hunched position, eyes getting even wider. “and now I can’t stop crying and I’m so embarrassed and I just want to go home but my phone died and I—.”

“Where are you?” Shotaro asked quickly.

For a moment, the sound of yelling and music on the other end of the line made him think you were at a party. But you sighed deep into the receiver, ending the white noise with a tiny embarrassed laugh.

“I’m at my Mom’s?” You said it with lift at the end, like you couldn’t believe you were in this situation either.

Just like that, everything clicked. Shotaro suddenly understood the gist of your situation, just like he did with any situation involving your Mother. His hand reached for the keys in his pocket, trying hard to remember the exact address of your Mom’s house. If he looked back to your texts he should’ve deleted a long time ago he was sure he might be able to find it. He knew you were twenty minutes by train and speedwalking, but ironically thirty minutes by car with the traffic if he was lucky. Shotaro already started thinking about his route to get to you as he peaked inside of the library through the small windows.

“Is this her phone?” Shotaro asked, still looking through the window.

Shotaro looked at his stuff sitting at the table while his friends worked on whatever they were doing. He could leave without going back inside, he had his phone, wallet, and keys already on his person.

“No. It’s my cousin’s.” Shotaro imagined you adjusting your body to bring the phone closer to your face. “I just took it and walked outside.” You said.

“Just stay there, I’ll be there in like twenty minutes, okay?” Shotaro said.

He put his hand on the large wooden door of the library to go back inside, already coming up with an excuse as to why he has to leave early.

Shotaro goes to the table and begins packing his things as calmly and quickly as possible. 

Sungchan notices what he’s doing first, taking his headphones off and leaning towards Shotaro.

“You’re leaving?” He asks.

“One of the people i tutor needs help with an assignment.” Shotaro says.

Shotaro spoke in a normal volume, but put things in his bag at a normal pace to seem as casual as possible. Despite his calm demeanor the image of you crying riddled his thoughts. The more he thinks about you, the more rushed he becomes. He starts putting his things inside his bag haphazardly, not caring about his normal order of operations. He still tries hard to seem even keeled to his friends, waiting patiently for one of them to ask the question.

“This late?” Anton asks the question first, eyebrows raised as he checks the time on his phone.

The rest of the table follows Anton’s lead, checking the times on their devices before looking to Shotaro. With all the eyes on him he tries his best to remain neutral, shrugging his shoulders as he puts on his backpack.

“Last minute assignment.” Shotaro adjusts the straps of his backpack and checks his phone again  to seem nonchalant. “If you guys are still here I’ll come by.” He says quickly.

If the members of the study group were skeptical, they do not show it. They only nod their heads, Anton and Sohee even talk about heading home soon. Shotaro is quick to bid his friends a farewell, pushing past the large wooden doors of the library to head straight towards the train station.

When Shotaro stood from his seat on the train and waited in front of the doors he checked his messages again. His i’m losing reception, just stay there was still left unread. When the doors finally opened he pushed past them before people could flood into the train car. Shotaro nearly ran out of the station, feet clearing two steps at a time as he made his way back to the street. When Shotaro finally exited the station he searched the walking directions on his phone. 

When Shotaro made it to the street he had to reorient his phone a million times, and for the first time in forever he uncharacteristically lost his patience seeing the compass on the navigation app twist and turn. Eventually he was forced to look up to the street signs, pausing for a moment as the flow of car traffic continued around him. When Shotaro remembered walking this path with you he started heading in the general direction, hoping that his phone would eventually catch up. 

Each time the traffic lights and cars would stop him from crossing the road, he would go back to his messages. You still hadn’t responded, his delivered message sitting at the bottom of your conversation made him more anxious than it should have. When he was finally able to walk he nearly ran down the path his phone told him to take.

Finally Shotaro turned down a residential street to the road your Mother lived on. The quiet residential area was so different from the busy streets he wanted to illegally cross minutes ago. Now he was looking down the lined rows of cars on the side of the street, looking for anything that was familiar. He sent you another message, one telling you he was close and would be there soon. He looked to the houses, trying to find the number you had sent him before.

He finally recognized your Mother’s car first, all the times she let only Shotaro drive it when you two would go on dates. He only had to keep walking a few steps before he was in front of the house, directly in front of the walkway that would lead him to the door. Shotaro looked for a moment at the house that had all its lights on and music bleeding out of the doors and spilling onto the streets. He swore he could hear your Mother laughing inside and other people having a good time. Shotaro wondered where in that big house were you locked away crying. 

He put his heel on the curb, getting ready to call you and tell you he was coming.

“Taro?” A voice sniffled behind him.

Instantly Shotaro turned around. His phone that illuminated his face was forgotten when he saw you sitting on the curb opposite of him. Your body was tucked neatly between the gap of two parallel parked cars. You were almost underneath the streetlamp, but in the dark of night and in his haste Shotaro would’ve never seen you if you didn’t say something.

His feet moved first to close the distance, almost like he was floating towards you. The heel of his dress show scraped the paved road and he was sure he got dust and dirt stuck to his pants as he crouched down to you. Your wide eyes followed him, head tilted upwards as he came in front of you before coming down.

Shotaro was eye level with you in an instant, filled with worry as you looked down at the ground. He didn’t hesitate to situate himself in front of you and put a hand on your shoulder, even when you froze and parted your lips.

“What happened?” He asked.

Your gaze was immediately fixed downwards, fresh tears leaving tiny drops on the pavement. You shook your head trying to remember how you got here.

“I was fine in the beginning.” You started.

Shotaro came even closer when you your cries racked through your body. He pulled you in by your shoulder, then wrapped his other hand around your body when you grabbed his arm. He had you in an embrace, it was shaky as you two leaned side to side but he still held on tight. He almost lost his balance from leaning forward and your clammy hands grasping at whatever you could to soothe yourself. Your sobs echoed in the space between your bodies, your forehead pressed into Shotaro’s collarbone as your tears continued to fall. He didn’t speak as he let you cry, but his hand ran up and down your back let you know it was okay. At one point you sat up from the curb to burrow further into Shotaro’s chest, and your hand held his shoulder like it was your anchor.

He didn’t know how long you two were there for in embrace underneath the streetlamp before you pulled away. Your eyelashes were clumped together as you sat back down on the curb, your body still shaky and hot to the touch. Even when the flush in your face decreased and your cries turned into sniffles Shotaro did not pull his hand away from your shoulders. He only squeezed them gently, silently letting you know you didn’t have to be embarrassed to look at him.

“Do you want to go back inside?” Shotaro asked.

He knew the answer, but still nodded sympathetically when you instantly shook your head. His eyes went to the phone that belonged to your cousin still sat beside you. Shotaro watched your eyes flick from your tear stains on the ground to the phone.

“I have to give my cousin her phone back.” You said, voice still weak.

Shotaro watched you stand up on your shaky heels and wipe the tears away from your eyes. He could see how daunting the prospect of going inside was, the worrying written all over your face. He couldn’t stop himself from grabbing the phone gently out of your hands before smiling up at you. You held onto the device, letting it tug slightly between the two of you.

“I got it, don’t worry.” He said.

You hesitated for a moment before letting the phone go. Shotaro crossed the street in a hurry before heading up to the porch of the house. Shotaro felt sympathy for you as he approached the house, the sound of festivities even made him feel nervous. The sound of laughter boomed and music was even more prominent now, it sounded as though someone was right on the other side of the door. Shotaro looked back to you quickly, seeing your defeated stance next to the curb as he put the phone down. He pulled the sticky notes from his backpack and wrote on it quickly, placing it on the rocking chair next to the door.

You didn’t bother asking what the note said when Shotaro came back to you. You assumed it was along the lines of how you weren’t feeling well and he was going to take you home as you got into the backseat of the cab Shotaro called. He helped you into the car after opening the door for you but made sure to keep his distance once you both got inside. He made a point to sit on the side opposite of you but still held your bag, the black strap clutched in his hand as his backpack sat in his lap. 

You watched the lights of your Mom’s house disappear when the driver turned down the road. In the dead silence of the car the situation you were in started sinking in and that rock formed in your throat again at the sight of your ex-boyfriend. You tried picking at the end of your black dress to distract your mind, you tried counting the dancing lights down the road as the car headed back towards campus. Nothing could take your mind off Shotaro right beside you and his hand that tapped on his mid-thigh. You wanted to reach across and hold him, you wanted him to scoot across the chasm between your bodies and let you lean your head on his shoulder. You kept your thoughts to yourself, trying hard to focus on anything else besides the fact that Shotaro was your knight in shining armor. He still had his backpack on, so clearly coming from that study group that seemed to be taking up all his time these days. You wish you had something to distract yourself that same way he did instead of ignoring your emotions until they boiled over at funerals.

When the cab drove off and you were left in front of Shotaro’s apartment you couldn’t define the feeling in your chest. The feeling pulled you towards Shotaro’s apartment, you imagined his hand on the small of your back guiding you up the stairs. The feeling made you push open his front door and walk into the space like you owned it, the feeling brought you to his room as you dug through his drawers looking for clothes you could wear. Shotaro didn’t object, in fact you could’ve sworn you saw a smile as he watched you take off your heels and make a beeline for his bedroom.

Shotaro set his bag down first in his kitchen before following the path you made to his bedroom. He was shocked that when he opened the door he saw your bare back as you shimmied out the your dress. He let out a gasp the same time he turned around, your bag still clutched in his hand. 

He stared straight ahead, not daring to turn around even when he heard the sound of you losing your balance and giggling when you regained it. Even if he had seen it all the idea of watching you get undressed didn’t feel right. He knew he lost the privilege of seeing you like that a long time ago, so now he was forced to stare straight ahead at the wall where a picture of you two used to hang. When he heard you stumble again his eyes traveled to the cardboard box in the corner of his room. He kept his space tidy except for that corner, where dark energy hung over like a storm cloud. On days where Shotaro was especially busy that was his designated spot to put dirty clothes and other things he didn’t want to deal with. He was grateful he had the right mind to clean yesterday, but it left a full view of his things that he still believed were yours on full display. He hoped that you wouldn’t notice the cardboard box, he could already hear your sound of surprise if you discovered it. Shotaro would not be able to come up with an excuse as to why he never unpacked the box; he could lie to his friends but he absolutely couldn’t lie to you.

Shotaro heard your occasional grunts when your dress wouldn’t cooperate and your sudden rushed movements when you’d lose your balance. He distracted some more by looking down to our bag in his hand. He saw your legs in his peripheral, but his gaze was caught on the S charm that still hung off of your purse. He had the bag in his hands for God knows how long, but never noticed the swinging silver charm that he bought you all that time ago. It still caught the light the same way as it dangled in his hand. 

“Does your family know we broke up?” Shotaro asked, still looking down at the charm.

“You were the only part they liked about me.” Shotaro heard the sound of his bed creak behind him. “So no.” You huffed.

Shotaro still didn’t turn around as he shook his head. He could admit that he hit it off with parents well. He had a killer smile and a personality they could trust, and it didn’t hurt that he was a STEM major at the top of his class. Your parents were doting on him while they looked to you with a scowl on their face. Why haven’t you shown Shotaro where the bathroom is? Why haven’t you served him a plate yet? Why aren’t you saying anything? The night progressed to the point that had to tell your Mother and Father in his soft meet-the-parents voice that he was able to get his own food and didn’t need to be served by you. 

From that point and on, Shotaro became a pawn in the constant bickering between you and your Mother. He never knew which side to choose, always going the route of the meditator, but he could only talk himself out of so many tense situations. Eventually he would make a temporary enemy out of you and by the end of the night when you two would head home he would be punished with the silent treatment as you tried to gather yourself.

So maybe it was the truth that your Mom came between the two of you, and maybe being in that house without Shotaro made you realize you couldn’t handle it on your own. Maybe the realization that you couldn’t do anything or hide behind your boyfriends smile made you drink, and the drinks made you so vulnerable that you stole your cousins’ phone and stumbled outside to sit on the curb to call your him.

But what did he know? You were the psychology major not him. He only knew that you moved the S charm that used to hang on your necklace to your bag and your parents still believed you two were together. Shotaro also knew that if he had known you were going back to that house alone he would’ve gladly been your fake boyfriend for the night without a second thought—which could mean nothing.

“I’m done changing.” You said quietly behind him.

Shotaro turned around and was forced to face the sight of you head on. You swam in his t-shirt, the end of it making it down to your mid-thigh. He’s had this exact same view before, of you sitting down looking up at him at this time of night. He didn’t even reach out a hand to assuringly tap your shoulder or pat your head. He only walked past you to his dresser, ignoring the way you followed him as he grabbed his clothes off the top.

“I’m going to change.” Shotaro pointed to the door like you had forgotten. 

Before he could circle around his bed to go to the bathroom he heard the bedsprings creak quickly.

“Wait.”

Shotaro turned to you quickly, trying to be hospitable and oblivious to your hand and how it reached out to him. You looked like a memory, his black sheets made it seem like you were stranded in the middle of the ocean. You still had your hand reaching towards him like he was your life life. You crawled to the edge of the bed closest to him and Shotaro stayed planted, trying not to look at the way his shirt fit on you. He watched you reach behind to his contacts case before holding it out towards him.

“You forgot to take out your contacts.” You stuttered.

Shotaro did have the terrible habit of leaving his contact in at night. In fact, it was so terrible caused you to develop the habit of reminding him to take them out. You usually had a smile when you reminded him, you took your job very seriously. But there was no smile on your face as Shotaro’s feet moved him closer to the bed and closer to you, You almost seemed worried as you looked up to him. You silently put out your hands to hold his change of clothes as he took the contacts out. As soon as he reached for his glasses you were already handing them to him, moving quickly but so hesitant at the same time.

He remembers you would always cringe and look away at the sight of Shotaro messing with his eyes, but you stayed alert and focused on him. You didn’t look away even he pinched his fingers together and started touching the surface of his eye. Shotaro watched you come closer until your feet went over the edge of the bed. 

“You must be tired.” He said.

Shotaro put his contacts in the solution that you held out politely. He wanted to reach out and hold you like he did outside your Mother’s house. He found it was hard to touch your ex if they weren’t in visible emotional distress, but it tugged at him all the same. He settled for putting a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle shake, trying to seem as friendly as possible despite the air becoming volatile.

“It’s not even late.” You respond.

Shotaro only laughs when he hears the bite in your voice. Your phone that finally turned back on says it’s barely past 8PM. He can hear the notifications start to come in, missed calls from your Mother and a text message that says how nice it was to see Shotaro, even if it was through the ring camera on the front door. 

“You’re usually nicer when you’re drunk.” Shotaro jokes.

Shotaro takes the solution from your hands and puts it on his bedside table. He starts massaging your shoulder and instantly the crease in your forehead softens. You’re still alert, eyes focused on him and his hands that start slowly working down your arm. He feels the muscles in your arm loosen each time his fingers dig a little deeper. Already you seem more relaxed, there’s a different tension that fills the air. 

“I’m not drunk.” You deadpan, but your voice gets softer when you can see Shotaro’s hand on your bicep. “And my friends say I actually get pretty mean when I’m drunk.”

Shotaro is completely silent when he curls his hand around your wrist briefly before moving to your hand. 

“I don’t think so. Your eyes become really wide like you’re trying to see everything.” Shotaro takes extra time massaging the back of your hand with his thumb so he can feel your soft palm against the rest of his fingers. “You end every sentence with please and apologize for everything.” He smiles wistfully to himself as he moves his hand to the first knuckle of your index finger. He watches the tip of your finger twitch as a reflex.

“You compliment everything that comes into your line of sight too.” Shotaro is pulled away from your hand when you laugh lightly with him. he looks to you in an instant, and ironically you’re the one that starts looking at your own hand. “You’re always nice, but something about alcohol in your system makes you incredibly—”

“Vulnerable?”

You turn your head and look up at him. Something pulls Shotaro towards you, not just your hand that pinches the fabric of his basketball shorts. 

“I was going to say sweet.” Shotaro laughs and brings his hand back to your shoulder. He watches you lean your head to the side until your cheeks rest on top of his knuckles. Shotaro lifts his fingers and rubs his fingers against your cheeks lightly. “Are you feeling vulnerable? Is that why you called me?” He asks.

Shotaro knows you’re lying when you shake your head. He sees that you’re already pretending the first part of the night never happened, that you just found yourself in his bed with his clothes hanging off your body. 

“I called you because you know me best.” Shotaro watches you pause to swallow thickly. “And you’re the only person I wanted to call.” You say while scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

You had the phone numbers of your friends etched into your mind from years of contact. You could’ve called any of them, but you had Shotaro on the other end of the line in seconds. When he didn’t pick up the first time you had the chance to ring one of your friends instead. But for some reason you rang him again. And again. You would’ve spent the whole night calling him, until the sun came up and your cousin’s phone died. You knew he would come. Even if you broke his heart and he broke yours. You knew Shotaro would drop everything to come to your aid because that’s just who he was.

“Shotaro.” You whispered, so pitifully.

Shotaro realizes a moment too late that he’s gotten himself into a situation he won’t be able to get out of. He avoids your eye contact suddenly, instead focusing on your thin gold necklace that disappears underneath the collar of his shirt. His efforts were thwarted when he felt your hand clasp around his forearm. Everything in him that screamed not to look at you turned to a whisper when he caught your eye.

He hesitated for a moment, and when he didn’t move away in time you traveled your hand down his arm until you reached his palm. Everything else in the world fell out as Shotaro caressed your cheek and your hand moved to clasp over his.

“Please.” You continued. “You’re the only one I wanted to call.”

He watched your hand cover the ring you gifted him as your grip tightened around his fingers. 

Even if you didn’t explicitly say what you were asking for, Shotaro already knew. He unfortunately had your habits engraved so deeply into his mind he believed he’d never forget. Your defense mechanism of sarcasm that bordered bullying melted down and left you looking for closeness in any form possible. The proximity after a prolonged period of no contact made Shotaro believe you were looking to find that tenderness you so intensely craved from him. That’s why he knew that even if you stopped staring at him you were far from done. He patiently waited for your next attack while he continued to hold your cheek.

“I told you I’d always be here for you.” He said.

Shotaro watched you close your eyes, the view from above let him see your eyelashes fan your cheek. When you opened your eyes again they were blown wide, pleading for something more.

“Can you touch me?” You asked.

Shotaro already expected another one of your subtle hints. He nodded and started caressing your cheek again to emphasize what he was doing for you.

“I am.” He answered.

Shotaro could tell you were getting frustrated. He waited for your next hint as you continued staring at him. His other hand went to the perplexed crease in your eyebrow. The crease only deepens when you close your eyes and let out a deep breath.

“Can we have sex?” You ask.

He stops completely at your question. He could count on one hand the amount of times he heard you ask for sex explicitly. Usually you told him through pulling at his shirt or pinching his skin. Hearing sex fall from your lips, albeit hesitantly, was so was foreign to him. Usually you opted for a shy it in place of the word but most of the time you never said it at all. It took a full three seconds for Shotaro to recover before shaking his head.

“You’re drunk.” He said.

“I’m not drunk,” When you pulled your hand away in defiance Shotaro didn’t react. He only pointed towards your other arm. You had it propped up on the edge of his bed while your massaged arm moved to do the same. You dug your hand deeper into the edge of the mattress, but a second later it was lifted and floating towards Shotaro’s hands. “I sobered up during the walk and the cab ride.” You reasoned.

Shotaro was speechless again. He wondered how long you had your rebuttals lined up, ready to defend yourself at any moment. But he remained steadfast remembering the state he found you in, avoiding the streetlight and slinking into the darkness like a nocturnal animal while you closed in on yourself like a collapsing star. He swore he could still see the remnants of tear stains smeared across your eye bags and the tip of your nose was still irritated by sniffling and rubbing. Shotaro found the strength to deny you again, shaking his head with a small smile to offset the look of disappointment that settled across your face.

“Having sex with me will not make you feel better.” Shotaro said gently.

Shotaro felt your hand stiffen in his hold. He could tell you felt the frustration, he tried to distract the both of you by driving his fingers deeper into your palm. When you normally would’ve winced you only stayed still, your eyes fixed on his hand holding yours.

You admittedly felt frustration from not getting what you wanted. Having Shotaro deny you anything—much less sex—felt so alien it nearly placed you out of your body. Having him tend to you in every way he did as a boyfriend over the course of the evening left you searching for the last thing. You wanted him to take care of you in that final way, you needed him to. There seemed to be no better way to cope with the overwhelming wrong in your life than to have morally ambiguous sex with the ex you couldn’t get rid of.

“Being with you has always made me feel better.” You say.

You don’t try to sound teasing. You have lost entirely too much of your mystery tonight to be anything but upfront. You let the desperation come from you in waves and you don’t try to hide how pitiful you feel. 

Your lack of shame and overwhelming vulnerability is rewarded when Shotaro looks from your hand to your face. You pray he can see the desire you don’t try to hide and the way you look up at him so pitifully. Shotaro’s hand cradles your face and you can tell he’s looking at you a little closer now. With your free hand you clutch at the bottom of his shirt. It’s soft in between your fingers. You wrinkle the fabric even more when Shotaro holds eye contact with you.

“You were stumbling out of your clothes.” Shotaro said matter-of-factly.

“You know i’m clumsy.” You responded quickly.

Before Shotaro could say anything else your hand clasped over the wrist that cradled your cheek. Shotaro let your hand guide his lower and lower down your body. You let his fingers graze the exposed skin of your neck before pushing it further down to your chest. Shotaro didn’t dare move his hands, he only watched you with a titled head and even expression as you arched your back into his outstretched palm. 

“I’ll do all the work.” You emphasized your point by clasping your hand over Shotaro’s, molding his hand against your chest. He felt your hardened nipple press against his palm as you leaned even further forward. “You can stop at anytime. Just need a little.” You said.

Shotaro exercised his strength by pulling away from your chest. He stayed in the same spot by his bed, looking down at your defeated expression. He tried to think about how long it’s been since you had alcohol in your system, how you didn’t have that far off look in your eye like you usually did when you drank.

He almost found the strength to turn you down again. But you looked up to him with your big blown out eyes and pouty lips. He crumbled when he felt you pull at the belt loop of his jeans weakly.

“Tell me what this is before we go any further.” Shotaro said sternly.

Your hands stopped pulling at his belt loops and you nodded quickly. You sat up with perfect posture on the bed to show Shotaro you really were in the right state of mind to be doing this.

“I always feel better when I’m with you.” You started hesitantly backing towards the center of Shotaro’s bed as you kept your eyes on him. “Just take care of me a little bit. That’s all I need.”

You leave Shotaro’s hold to settle in the center of his bed. You wait there for him, playing with the bottom of his shirt to occupy yourself. You keep your eyes on him—because shame is completely foreign to you now—as he stands next to the bed. He continues to stand there unmoving and you let out a tiny breath, something between sinking disappointment and stubborn hope. 

You can’t stop your smile and your eyes from widening when Shotaro puts his knee on the bed. You stay on your spot of the mattress as Shotaro slowly brings his other knee to rest on the edge. You already feel excitement bubbling across your body when you move your body towards his. You rake your eyes down his body, settling on his waist. 

Before you can make another move Shotaro’s hands go to your shoulders, keeping you in place. You move to sit on your knees and look up at him. From down here you can’t help but bat your eyelashes. 

“I won’t hesitate to stop.” Shotaro says sternly.

Your lie of doing all the work becomes null and void in an instant. The commanding look in Shotaro’s voice takes away all your authority, the even tone in his voice makes it impossible for you to speak. All you can do is nod and swallow thickly, putting everything in his hands. So you sit on the bed completely still. You’re all eyes and parted lips as you watch Shotaro lower himself until he is eye level with you. You keep your eyes on his face, the only movement is when he rubs your shoulders down to your hands before placing them on his lap. 

Shotaro holds his thigh for a second, thinking about what to do next. He smiles at your frazzled expression, like you’re surprised he actually agreed to this. Shotaro thought that he already made it abundantly clear he could never turn you down, to not give you what you want. It was impossible to say no when you looked at him like that.

Shotaro’s fingers wrapped around the ring you gifted him. He sees your eyes dart down to his hands before your tongue darts out to wet your lips. You shift on your legs and part your lips again, already prepared for what Shotaro is going to do next. 

When he gets the ring off he brings it to your lips. He watches the metal cause a dimple on your lip as he presses the ring lightly against it. He sees you almost go crosseyed to look at the ring before your shaking pupils focus back on him. Shotaro smiles, finding it hard to be pulled from the sight.

“Hold this for me?” He asks.

You nod, and without hesitation you part your lips even further. 

Shotaro gently pushes the ring inside of your mouth, grazing the bottom of your teeth before placing it on your tongue. As Shotaro pulls his fingers from your mouth you greedily close your lips around them. You suck his fingers back into your mouth, the metallic taste of the ring mingling with the taste of him. Shotaro’s hand grazes up your arm and you paw at his forearm, looking for something to hold. You are too focused on the satisfied look in his eyes to actually pay attention at what you’re reaching for, if you’re reaching for anything at all. 

When Shotaro is satisfied he presses on the flat part of your tongue. His fingers leave your mouth and a string of spit follows it. You follow closely behind, you lean your body forward in an effort to close the gap.

“It’s okay if you spit it out.” With your tongue you move the ring from your cheek to the center of your mouth. When you nod Shotaro looks behind you on the mattress briefly before moving his other hand to your other shoulder. “Lay down for me.” Shotaro says gently.

You are taken back to the time you almost choked on the ring briefly as Shotaro guides your body backwards. Your body barely makes a sound as it hits the mattress. Shotaro continues to look down at you, his wet fingers caress your cheek and stroke your chin. His fingers go down lower and lower, non-assuming and gentle as his eyes follow the invisible trail. You squirm underneath his touch, and you squirm even more when you realize how intensely he’s staring at your body.

“How do you want it?” Shotaro sounds far away as his fingers continue down your body. You shiver, trying to find the words before he finds them for you. “Or do you want me to decide?” He asks.

“You decide.” You say meekly.

Shotaro starts by lifting your bent leg and putting it in the bend of his arm. You have been in this position with him before. You ignore the habit in your muscles to watch Shotaro build the tension. He guides your calf to rest on his shoulder, then does the same with the other leg as he comes closer to your body. Shotaro bends between your legs and kisses the spot right below your knee as his hand reaches for the bottom of his shirt.

“I’ll take care of you.” Shotaro murmurs.

You already arch your back off the mattress without him doing anything. He can see you’re driven by his words, the need to be taken care of satisfies you to no end. He has half a mind to just repeat the acts of service he did for you when he was your boyfriend. Shotaro was positive you’d be a shaking mess by the end of his long list with a few praises thrown in. But Shotaro finds himself getting excited at the ability to have you in the palm of his hand again. He plans to take his time when he finally sees your bare stomach and the trim of your panties for the first time in God knows how long.

“I know you’ll take care of me.” You lament.

The name you reserved for him in bed was so close to falling from your lips. Shotaro even watched you form the word and the affliction in your tongue to ennunciate the word. He knows its for the better that you cut yourself off, he doesn’t know who he would become if he heard you call him by that name. 

He distracts himself from the replays of you crying out the nickname by pushing his hand past the elastic of your underwear. Shotaro’s other hand moves to fondle your chest, alternating between groping and hard palming as a complete contrast from the gentle way he touches your clit.

You already were wet for him, your hole clenched around nothing as Shotaro circled your bundle of nerves. You twitched and let our labored groans, continue to scratch your nails over the fabric of his pants. You don’t know how much longer you can silently give him the hints that you need more. The feeling of his hands groping you and being so close to your slit does anything but satiate you. You’re somehow more wound up than before, you think you might tear through the fabric of Shotaro’s clothes if he keeps you waiting.

“Just one finger.” You say.

Shotaro looks to you and stills the hand in your pants. His eyebrows raise at your order you phrased as a suggestion. When you lift your hips Shotaro slowly starts rubbing your clit again, but even slower than before. His hand that palms your chest grips your supple skin harshly. 

He continues this motion, gripping your chest but touching your clit so lightly you might break. His fingers get lower and lower. Shotaro’s smirk is almost evil as he watches you become more and more pent up.

“What about two?” He suggests calmly.

You nod vigorously, your hands dragging on the surface of the bed to try and find stability.

Shotaro harshly flicks your nipple as he finally slides two fingers in. Your walls welcome him quickly, and Shotaro can feel slick gush past his fingers as he pushes them back in slowly. He reluctantly abandons feeling your body up all together to focus his energy on fingering you. He coos at each of your whines, his eyes alternate between your cunt and your face that’s contorted in pleasure.

“You still got my ring?” Shotaro asks.

“Mhm.” You hum.

He sees the sudden protrusion in your cheek and nods. Shotaro continues working his fingers, letting the lewd wet sounds fill his room. When you start lifting your hips Shotaro uses a hand to keep you pinned to his mattress. Your whines of defiance mingle with the whimpers, both sounds egg him on to move his fingers at a faster pace.

Shotaro came impossibly closer to you while he continued driving his fingers into your cunt. His head still hovered above your knees between your legs, placing kisses to either side he deemed fit. You alternated between pushing your hips down and not moving at all, your depleting energy and tunnel vision of an orgasm distracting you. When you let out a particularly weak sound that was close to a sob you felt his attention go to you.

You knew by the way Shotaro’s fingers faltered that he saw your bleary eyes. You wondered if he could see your eyelashes that were clumped together or the fresh tear tracks that were coming down the sides of your face.

“I’m crying because it feels good.” You said, eyes still closed.

Shotaro could tell you were trying to focus, to keep it together. Shotaro saw your shaky exhale rattle your chest and the pout you were fighting back. He saw your hips twitch and he felt your walls contract around his three fingers. When he took them out of you your eyes instantly opened, wide and so sad he felt his heart break. Shotaro knew better, and he knew you knew it too. His hands left your body completely for what felt like an eternity. The ambiguity was almost as cloudy as the lust filled haze that was taking over his mind. Just when a side was about to win Shotaro felt your shaky hands grip his shoulders. He felt you guide his hands to your lower stomach before your other hand pressed his palm flat against your skin. You kept burning eye contact with him as you pressed his hands deeper into you, until your body instinctually writhed against him.

“Feels good?” Shotaro huffed.

He watched your eyebrows furrow as you nodded pitifully. Your hands left his and went back to pinching and pulling at the fabric of his pants.

As Shotaro watched firsthand that he was still person you needed, pride swell in his chest. Your hips came closer and closer to his, even through the discomfort of the stretch from your calves that were resting on his shoulders. Your body language made Shotaro reminisce on all the times he exercised his control; he remembers denying you that euphoria you were hurtling towards moments ago, he remembers only tapping your chin once before you opened your mouth obediently. Shotaro knows that’s what you wanted from him tonight, to worry about nothing else besides taking it. But he was selfishly chasing after something of his own tonight, he needed to touch every piece of you like it was his first and last time. 

He continued to indulge himself in you. Each time your calves slipped from his shoulders he took a break from touching your chest to push them back in place. He pressed into your lower stomach as if the tension was materializing into something tangible and teased your nipples until they were pebbles against his hand. He was in such a frenzy fueled by you; your hips, your legs, your chest, your sounds that were becoming louder and louder and your hands that were becoming greedier.

“Shotaro.” 

Your meek voice pulled his gaze away from his hands fondling your waist and chest. Shotaro registered your shaking voice and your entire body that was shaking like a leaf. You spoke clearly, determination in your eyes underneath the tears threatening to spill. 

“Please fuck me.” You begged.

Shotaro watched you pathetically reach at the button on his pants. He looked at your hand grasping at nothing, the thing you wanted just out of your reach. He reveled in watching you struggle for a moment, a smile blossoming across his face the same time you let out a frustrated whine.

“Shotaro, please.” You repeated.

Finally he pulled away from your legs, sitting back on his ass as he unbuttoned his pants. Shotaro watched you rid yourself of your clothes. You quickly pushed your panties down your legs before kicking them off your ankles, and you propped yourself on your elbows to take off your shirt. He threw his pants off in the same general direction as you threw your clothes, then took his shirt off as he slotted himself between your legs again. His hands went to your ankles, guiding your legs back to their original place on his shoulders. Shotaro stayed focused on your face as he got closer and closer to you, seeing you let out a pensive breath as your legs stretched further.

“You still got it?” Shotaro teased.

Shotaro felt your feet settle in the crook of his neck and watched your hands hold the back of your calves to hold them in place. You nodded quickly, preening your hips to feel Shotaro’s dick press against your ass.

“I’m still flexible.” You answered.

Shotaro stretched you further by reaching down closer to you. He didn’t stop until you drew in a breath and winced. From here he could watch himself in the pitch black reflection of your eyes as he fisted the sheets on either side of you. He started slowly grinding his dick against your heat, satisfied with the slick sounds and the way you wiggled your hips against his. He was teasing himself but to you it felt like torture, having him so close but so far away. 

“Please put it in.” You whined.

You watched Shotaro catch his bottom lip between his teeth as he nodded obediently. He looks down between your two bodies, drawing his hips back until his tip prodded your entrance. When he could feel you and you drew in a breath in anticipation he looked back at you. You held eye contact through the haze, you surprisingly held eye contact as Shotaro slowly slid inside of you. The position and the feeling of Shotaro pushed the air out of your lungs. You let out a gasp when his hips kissed yours, a gasp that turned into a heavy moan when he repeated the motion.

He was reeling off the shock on your face, and he felt his entire body tighten when he pushed back into you. Your back arched off the bed and Shotaro moved his hands closer to your body, effectively caging you in. Your head turned at the same time, your closed eyes pointed towards the wall.

“Does this?” Shotaro’s skin slapped against yours and turned your face to look him in the eyes. He got closer to your body, deepening the stretch in your legs. “Does this feel good?” He asked.

You nodded weakly, you lifted your hips in tandem with Shotaro’s quickening thrusts. The angle made him hit that spot deep inside of you, the one that made you moan louder than before and had his vision spotting. You felt so familiar and warm inside, Shotaro felt like he was losing himself again. But despite the euphoria Shotaro held on tight for you, remembering the promise he made to you in the park when you gave him back your things.

“I’m taking care of you?” Shotaro asked.

“You’re taking care of me.” You answered

Your words were cut short when Shotaro gave you a particularly hard thrust. He slid in and out of you with ease, but each time you could feel your walls clamp around his dick in an effort to keep him inside of you. Your walls began spasming without your control. The feeling built up over your body again, you were teetering towards the edge once again. 

“I’m close.” You warned as you brought your feet deeper into the crook of Shotaro’s neck. 

Shotaro nodded down at you, a groan leaving his lips in place of words as he continued fucking you. You alternated between the damp ends of his hair and the focused look on his face. You could tell he was close like you were, arguably even more close to the edge than you were. But you could feel the devotion he had to taking care of you first. Watching Shotaro shamelessly put your needs before yours had you arching your back off the bed. Everything melted away in that moment, and feeling him move his hand from beside you to touch your face affectionately made tears dot your waterline again.

“I got you.” Shotaro spoke over your moans, gentle and soft despite the violent waves ripping through your body. “Go ahead.” He said.

You couldn’t speak during the fact. Even your moans ceased, the stretch and the intense feeling of Shotaro snug in your walls took away your ability to even form a coherent thought. He reduced you down to your teeth digging into your lip and the death grip you had on your legs. You dug your own fingers into your flesh, the pain only made your orgasm more intense. The more your body seized the more intense everything became. A string of words fell from your lips that only Shotaro seemed to understand; he nodded and cooed at you while his hand starting touching you all over again.

Before you knew it, your body relaxed. Your feet were limp and your legs felt loose, your entire body felt loose as Shotaro’s hips began to falter. You weakly let your hands run down his arms, saying more incoherent babbles as his own eyes started screwing shut. You pulled the ring from your cheek. The wet metal was pressed between your palm and Shotaro's arm.

“Got you.” You said, barely coming back to Earth.

Shotaro waited until he only felt the pulses from aftershock to pull out. His last bit of self control dissipated after seeing your hands paw at your chest. He was fixated on the way your skin peaked between your fingers when he leaned forward to consolidate his release on a small portion of your lower stomach. The sensation of finishing on you felt barbaric, but Shotaro knew he had to atleast attempt to be responsible. Your legs slid from his shoulder as he wrapped his hands around his dick and began pumping quickly. He treated himself harsher than he treated you. This was simply a means to an end, a way to show you that taking care of you was the only fulfillment Shotaro needed.

“Can I?” Shotaro asked quickly, looking to your flushed face as he continued pumping his dick. 

At some point you slid the ring onto your finger, the metal band loose around your joint as you held your chest tighter.

Despite being rough with himself, he still felt the relief all the same. Even if it was Shotaro pumping his dick it felt like it was you who was pulling him thin before letting him go completely. Shotaro groaned and dug his fist into the mattress beside your body as he watched you twitch from the sudden warmth on your stomach. He continued going, Shotaro wasn’t sure if he imagined your sounds egging him on, or if it was wishful thinking. He still continued to empty onto your lower stomach while he felt the coil snap in his stomach.

When he regained his senses he lifted his head to look at your stomach. He grimaced at the mess he made on you—a small mess but a mess nonetheless—and wasted no time getting up from the bed. He ignored the look of accomplishment and pure content that rested in your smile when he came back with a wet towel. He had to bite his lip when he got on the bed again to wipe you down. He was slow with the warm towel, taking a quick peak to your face to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

If the towel was scorching hot Shotaro wouldn’t have known. You only watched with a smile on your face and something more complicated in your eyes as you watched him take care of you.

[remlionheart]

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.

You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.

But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.

You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.

Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.

Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.

You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.

Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.

Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.

It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.

The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.

You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.

You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.

The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.

For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.

Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.

Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.

You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.

Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.

It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.

You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.

You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.

You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.

It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.

Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.

You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.

On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"

"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"

You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"

"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."

"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."

He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.

You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.

The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.

You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.

"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"

He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”

You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.

"Really?"

You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.

"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.

There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."

Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.

"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."

You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.

"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"

You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.

He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."

There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.

"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."

It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."

"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.

You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.

"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."

Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.

All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.

Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.

"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"

You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.

"Good."

His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.

"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.

As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.

He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."

"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.

He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.

His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."

"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."

"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.

"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.

He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.

It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.

Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.

You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.

"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"

You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.

"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."

He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.

"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."

"Promise."

And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.

You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.

The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.

You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.

When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.

Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.

You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.

"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."

A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.

You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.

You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.

It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.

But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.

You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.

The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.

You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.

You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.

You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.

Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.

"Chuuya?"

"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"

It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.

He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"

He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”

There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.

You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.

“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."

He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.

It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.

"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."

"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"

You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."

There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.

“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”

You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."

His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."

A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."

"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"

You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.

He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.

Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.

"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.

You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.

You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.

He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.

"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.

You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.

You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"

You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.

"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.

He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.

"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.

His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.

It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.

The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.

You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.

"There you go, fuck - just like that."

He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.

Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.

"Sucha good girl."

His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"

It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.

He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.

"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”

It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.

His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.

It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.

He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."

"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[noodlewritez]

Hello!!! Discovered u recently and im already loving ur work♥️

Can u write a smut fanfiction of Dave sneaking up in the bimbo!reader room with his Kick-Ass suit(bc she fantasises abt Kick-Ass pounding her at her room), he has to sneak in her room because her house has alarms for intruders in the front door(also her parents arent home.. soooo---😜😜) ifykyk..

Something hot like him being a bit of a munch, tit-lover and a sub..

And the suit and mask stays own!!!

Hope that makes sense and reading that out loud, i realise how i am a SLUT for him

The mask stays on

Pairings: Dave Lizewski x Bimbo!Fem!reader

Warnings: long, (i'm sorry), smut, oral, cussing, a ticket to poundtown etc etc

A/N: Thank you so much for loving my work! I am so sorry this took so long i have been so very busy😔

When you first saw that clip of Kick-ass defending that other man, late at night, something in you awoke at his voice, the way he spoke, the mask, oddly enough. Oof. You've got a crush on kick-ass.

One night, you sit in your room, the only light being your laptop in front of you, music playing as you bite your lip and start a message to Kick-ass' Myspace.

'Kick-ass, i might need some help with something'

No.

'Kick-ass, i need to talk to you...something personal.'

You smirk as you send the message and your address, biting your lip harder than before, Hoping he would show tonight, you get up amd change your panties to a hot pink thong that wasn't afraid to show itself

You hear a knock on your window, staying up to see if he would show up tonight and here he was. You smirked as you got up from your bed and opened the window. "Oh, Kick-ass...Thank god, you're here." You feign worry as he climbs in.

He deepens his voice and you internally roll your eyes. "What's the problem, ma'am?" He asks, his eyes darting to your thong then to your tits in your push-up bra in the playboy tank top. "Well..."

You sink to your knees. "Do you think you could help me...hero?" His mouth drops, nodding frantically, his eyes going back to your tits as you fishing him out of the suit. His dick springs out. Jesus...Christ...He has to be at least 8 inches. You look at him in disbelief and he smiles, finding it amusing. You push him back against your desk and he grips onto the edge as you begin by sucking on his pink tip, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "Fuck..." He groans. You choke on it, pulling back and spitting on your tits just for his pleasure and boy, did he find it amusing. He gasps, you feel him twitch and he almost doubles over at the sight. A virgin, no doubt.

You smirk as you continue taking him down your throat, occasionally gagging. You knew he was about to cum when his fingers turn white, gripping your desk with all his might, clenching his eyes shut. "Sh-Shit-Gonna cum-"

"Please cum for me, be a good boy, spill your kids down my throat." You encourage and he holds himself back, pulling away from your warm throat. "Can i-Can I fuck you-?…you are so hot..." He pants. You stand up, kissing him, giving him the answer.

He kisses you in a rush, his hands staying at his side as you have to guide them to the small of your back. His face gets hot and red. "Y-Your parents.." He breaks away from your kiss. "Not home." You sit on the bed as he gets down on his knees. "They gonna be home anytime soon?" You shake your head as you lay down on your back and he nods, getting to work. Darting his tongue out, licking your folds then making his way up to your clit, sucking on it, making your eyes roll back and clutch your leopard print sheets. "Yes! Yes, Kick-ass!" You feel him smirk as he puts his tongue flat against your clit, licking back and forth. His hands come up to your chest, feeling up your huge tits, rubbing his fingers over your sensitive nipples, taking it all in like the good boy he is.

He hikes your knees over his shoulders, getting more comfortable and using his whole hands to squeeze at your tits. "God, I'm gonna cum...Kick-ass..." You warn in your whiny voice, squealing and holding onto your sheets as you cum, him licking up all of it. You sit up, kissing him again, panting against his cracked lips and taking your playboy tank top off in one swift motion, breaking the kiss to pull it over your shoulders.

You lay down on your stomach, arching on all fours at the foot of your bed in your pink thong. You turn around and look at him, gesturing to come to you. "Gonna beg to fuck me then not do it? Condoms are in the vanity drawer" You tease, winking. He gets up quickly, sliding the drawer open and grabbing a condom. He crawls back on the bed, sliding it onto himself smoothly then taking his time peeling the thong off of your ass almost like he's unwrapping it carefully.

As soon as it slides down your glass thighs, he quietly gasps, biting his lip and smirking. "Can I-?" He asks and you know what he's implying. "Fuck me like an animal, kick-ass." You sway all of your hair onto your left shoulder, leaving your right one bare while you lay your head down, ass still up. He slowly slides into your wet heat and leans down over you, his hands digging into the bed and keeping you in place as he starts to pound into you. You feel him hit that one fucking good spot, moaning and grabbing at his forearm, nails digging into the skin. "Fuck..!" You cry.

He looks down at your slobbering pussy dripping all over the blankets, panting. "That feel good?" He asks you, fucking you harder than before, his tip hitting your g-spot over and over again. "Fuck yeah it does." He starts going faster, a little bit harder; a panting mess above you. "Fuck your pussy's so tight." He mumbles, screwing his eyes shut and fucking you faster, his hands flying to your hips, starting to use you as a sex toy. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes, Kick-ass, right there!" You whine, throwing your head down against the bed as you cum all over his hard cock, the rest dripping down onto the bed.

He feels you squeeze the cum out of him and his eyes roll back and he cums right then and there, spilling into the condom. He buries himself deeper and catches himself on his hands, leaning his weight on them. "Fuck, you are so fucking good." He pants out.

"We should do this more often..." You lift your head from the bed and reply. He lazily smiles at you, promising that to you right then and there.

"Fuck yeah."

[yayll]

The jealous Dazqi post was so cute and funny and the callbacks to his past self were fun and now i can’t stop thinking about cringefail teen Dazai with the biggest, fattest crush ever and not knowing how to deal with it

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MADE ME LAUGH ANON I ADORE YOU FOR THE VISUAL.

cringefail teen Dazai so obsessed to the point where he is literally pointing a gun at the other recruit who's at least 10 years older than him because he complimented you on how your so mature for your age when it comes to leadership skills. (it's both an insult that he would perceive you in that way and also.... why the fuck is he talking to you at all?) he has to use his authority to further his cruelty.

Dazai does the most unhinged things behind your back, especially. it gets soooo dire that sometimes he has to recruit CHUUYA for intimidation purposes. Dazai thinks of himself as intimidating enough but thinks having the 5'3 gravity user pointing thousands of bullets at any person who made you laugh or smile or cry will add that pizzazz he's looking for. Chuuya smacks him upside the head after and remarks that you'd never go for him anyway.

one time, he begged Mori to let him 'supervise' your mission as executive, and it really just ended up with you doing your job and him standing by any large body of water contemplating if he should kill himself because he doesn't like what he's feeling for you. and if perhaps you don't feel the same? even more reason to wipe himself off this earth. but then you smile at him... and sometimes even give him a high five for a job well done..... and let's just say that was the first time he discovered alcohol. and alcohol poisoning soon after.

one time he saw you writing in your diary, and that very night is driven to insanity in your quarters searching for it, looking for any mention of him in it like a little rabid gremlin. you catch him in the act too, and he simply flings it onto your bed and crosses his arms in complete denial that he's hopelessly smitten with you.

"Dazai? what're you doing here? is that my diary?!"

"HUH? i'm not reading it, i'm literally not!"

"then what are you doing with it, huh?

and he just flashes you those hopeless loser ass puppy eyes when he realizes the jig is up.

"... do you like me or what?"

and you're just like.....

"of course i do, idiot."

like damn took him long enough. you kiss him on the cheek and he's like.... oh wow could it be i'm not delusional? but he can't even HANDLE YOUR DIRECT CONFESSION so he just self destructs and snorts like the immature little shit he is rolling his eyes and whatnot as he storms out of your room.

"yeah, well OF COURSE YOU DO. I KNEW THAT ALREADY."

then he giggles and prances alllll the way back to the shipping container oopsies.

[charliedaltonswife]

could we maybe get a part two to “an education in loathing….?” the sizzling tension, the hatred, the quippy remarks OOOO i loved it. maybe the two get assigned as partners for a project (or something??? idk??) and a late night argument finally boils over into something smutty…if you feel comfortable writing that….

An Education in Loathing - Pt 2

Henry Winter x reader (The Secret History)

soooo, went overboard with this one, high word count, um gets heated....

Summary: read the request

Warnings: far from none. S.M.U.T. do with that what you will

master list found here

You begged, as in got down on your knees and hands clutching together in prayer type begged, for anyone in the group to switch with you in this stupid project. But to no avail. 

You should have seen it coming. The way the universe seemed to take particular delight in your suffering, in orchestrating your life like a Greek tragedy, the fates snipping their shears with barely concealed amusement. Of course it had to be Henry.

Julian had announced the project with a kind of airy indifference, as if he weren’t about to ruin your entire semester. A “joint exploration of classical interpretations,” he had called it, pairing each of you off with someone to work through the assignment together. A “reward,” he had added, as if being shackled to Henry Winter for the foreseeable future was anything short of divine punishment.

Now, here you were, sitting across from him in the library’s dim back corner, trying not to succumb to the overwhelming urge to either strangle him or fling yourself dramatically out of the nearest window.

Henry, of course, looked perfectly unbothered. His long fingers turned a page of De Anima with excruciating slowness, his expression unreadable. The lamplight cast deep shadows across his face, sharpening the angles of his cheekbones, his jaw. He looked like some archaic statue came to life, some smug, superior deity sent to torment you.

“I suppose we should begin,” you said, barely keeping the venom from your voice.

Henry didn’t even glance up. “By all means.”

Your nails dug into the paper in front of you. “Well, seeing as you have no original thoughts of your own, why don’t you start by parroting whatever Julian has spoon-fed you on the subject?”

He made a quiet, amused sound, finally lifting his gaze. “Charming,” he murmured, setting the book down. “I see you’ve elected to be insufferable tonight.”

“You bring out the best in me.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to let him see the way he got under your skin. If you let him have that, you’d already lost.

“We could always divide the work,” you said, feigning a pleasant tone. “That way, I don’t have to suffer through your droning monologues, and you don’t have to endure my… how did you put it last time? ‘Exhausting need to contradict everything you say’?”

Henry leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, utterly at ease. “No,” he said simply.

You blinked. “No?”

“I don’t trust you to do it properly.”

You let out a sharp breath of laughter. “Oh, I’m the one who can’t do it properly?”

“Yes.”

You wanted to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy. “And why, exactly, is that?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering. “You’re impulsive.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And you’re a condescending bastard, but we all have our flaws, don’t we?”

His mouth twitched. “The difference is that I’m right.”

“Oh, you are so-” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply through your nose. You refused to let him rile you up this early. You had to pace yourself. If you let the irritation take over now, you’d never survive the night.

Instead, you took a slow sip of your coffee, schooling your expression into one of disinterest. “Fine,” you said at last. “Since you’re clearly too much of a control freak to work separately, we’ll suffer through this together. But I swear to God, Henry, if you correct me one more time on things I already know-”

“You’ll what?” His voice was almost amused.

You leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into something slow and deliberate. “I’ll smother you in your sleep and burn all of your books.”

Henry regarded you for a moment, gaze flickering over your face, before he exhaled a quiet laugh. “It’s adorable that you think you could.”

You stared at him, and there was something taut in the air between you, something sharp and charged. You could feel it, a tension neither of you wanted to acknowledge but both of you were utterly ensnared by.

Finally, you forced yourself to look away, reaching for your pen with more force than necessary. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Henry smirked, but he, too, returned to the task at hand.

-

The problem with Henry Winter, you had learned, was not simply that he was insufferable. It was that he was insufferable with such careful precision, such cruel artistry, that you sometimes suspected he did it on purpose, the way a cat will toy with a half-dead bird. That he liked needling you, watching the slow build of frustration, the way you burned under his gaze.

However, you found yourself in his apartment, not exactly what you’d expected; cold, austere, and far too tidy. Books lined the walls in obsessive, precise order, not a single one askew. A small fireplace, unlit, and the smell of something faintly metallic in the air, like old paper and ink.

You had known from the start this was a mistake.

“You could at least pretend to be a gracious host,” you muttered, dropping your bag onto the armchair nearest to the desk. “It wouldn’t kill you.”

Henry didn’t glance up from where he was pouring over a text, one hand idly at his temple. “I didn’t invite you here for pleasantries.”

You scoffed, taking a seat opposite him. “No, you invited me here because Julian gave us this absurd assignment, and unfortunately, you are stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t say it's unfortunate.” His voice was mild, but there was something in it, something you didn’t trust.

You ignored it. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He hummed, leaning back slightly. “You’re in a mood.”

“You put me in a mood,” you retorted, flipping open your notes. “Now, are we discussing the comparative mythology of Orpheus, or are we going to sit here and psychoanalyze my temperament?”

Henry exhaled sharply through his nose, his version of a laugh. “The former, obviously.” He turned a page. “Though your temperament is certainly interesting.”

You gave him a sharp look. “Don’t.”

He smirked, and you hated how he did it, so subtle, so knowing. Like he had already won. “As you wish.”

For a while, you managed to focus. Or at least, you tried to. But Henry had a way of getting under your skin, his presence coiling around your thoughts like smoke, making it impossible to concentrate. And of course, he was unbearable, correcting your phrasing, sighing pointedly whenever you said something he found lacking.

Eventually, the digs began. As they always did. Thank the lords the group wasn't present, although they found your banter amusing, often when it got too far they were the ones having to break you two up and sometimes being caught in the crossfire.  

“That’s not the primary interpretation of the myth,” Henry murmured, flipping a page, barely looking at you.

You grit your teeth. “It’s an interpretation.”

“A weak one.”

“Oh, I see. And you’re the sole arbiter of intellectual strength, is that it?”

Henry glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to.” You set your pen down with a sharp tap. “You think so.”

There was a pause. “You always assume the worst of me.”

You scoffed. “Because the worst is usually true.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I don’t think it, Henry. I know it.” You leaned forward. “You like feeling superior. It’s why you go after people the way you do, why you can’t just have a discussion, you have to dismantle. I’d almost admire it, if it weren’t so-” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Pathetic.”

For the first time that evening, his expression shifted.

And then, to your horror, he smiled.

Slowly, purposefully, he shut the book in front of him, his fingers resting lightly against the worn cover. “That’s an awfully emotional response for someone who claims not to care what I think.”

Your pulse quickened. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I don’t have to,” he said, voice low. “You do it for me.”

There was something wrong with the air in the room. It had thickened, become charged. You suddenly felt too warm.

Henry stood, moving past you toward the bookshelf, running his fingers idly over the spines of the texts, the firelight casting sharp shadows along his jaw. “You hate me,” he mused, his back still turned. “And yet here you are.”

“Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s an assignment.”

He turned.

It was something in his posture, the slow way he leaned back against the shelf, arms crossed, head tilting slightly. The smirk that wasn’t quite a smirk.

“Of course,” he murmured. Something about the way he was watching you made your stomach tighten.

“Stop that,” you said, voice coming out sharper than you intended.

“Stop what?”

“Whatever this is. The-” You gestured vaguely. “You’re being weird.”

“You’re imagining things again, we’ve talked about this darling, you must stop doing that” Henry said smoothly, pushing off from the shelf. You looked forward, only hearing his steps approach you as he rounded the table to stand behind you. 

You meant to say something cutting, to brush him off, but then, his hand. Light. Barely touching the inside of your wrist as he moved to lean over you.

The contrast was startling. His words, his voice, the sharp precision of his arguments, and then, this.

It was like a game.

And worse, you were losing.

“Careful,” you murmured, echoing the warning you had given him before.

Henry, leaning so his lips were ever so close to your ear. “Am I making you nervous?”

You inhaled sharply, your eyes blinked a few times before you turned your head slightly to be eye to eye with him. You were so close it felt suffocating. “You wish.”

You suddenly pulled the chair out from under you, the back of it forcing Henry to step back. You quickly move to the middle of the room, facing him and strangely out of breath. You didn’t want the distance for a reason unbeknownst to you, but if you were that close to him anymore you were going to combust. 

He hummed, as he moved closer, boxing you in. Slowly, so you barely noticed it was happening. Until your back was nearly to the bookshelf, and Henry was in front of you, his presence filling every inch of space between you.

It wasn’t quite touching. But it was close.

“You like to think you know me,” he said, his voice lower now, almost conversational, like he was considering something carefully. His fingers skimmed the edge of your sleeve, so light you almost didn’t feel it. “But you don’t.”

You swallowed. “And you like to think you’re unknowable.”

Henry’s lips twitched, but his eyes darkened. “Maybe.”

There was something in the way he was looking at you, something electric, a live wire strung too tightly. Your pulse was an insistent, frantic thing against your ribs.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if it was a warning or an invitation.

Henry leaned in just slightly, the heat of him inches from your skin, his breath warm against your jaw.

“So are you.”

You should have left the moment you realized what he was doing. Should have made some scathing remark, put him in his place, turned on your heel and walked out. But instead, you stayed. And Henry knew it.

You could see it in the way his eyes gleamed, dark and knowing, in the small curve of his mouth that wasn’t quite a smirk but something worse, something more dangerous.

"You always run your mouth, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, almost amused, but there was something sharper beneath it, a blade hidden in silk. “So much conviction. So much certainty.”

You exhaled sharply, trying to push past him, but he didn’t move. He only shifted, subtly, deliberately, blocking your escape with the sort of ease that made you realize he’d been planning this, had anticipated every move, every reaction. Your back pressed against the bookshelf, the sharp corners of the wood digging into your shoulder blades. Henry leaned in.

"Tell me, do you ever stop talking long enough to listen?" he murmured, and his breath was warm against your ear, a stark contrast to the razor edge of his words.

You breathed hard, threw your nose, letting your chest rise and fall. "Get out of my way, Henry."

His hand lifted, light, barely there, trailing just along the side of your throat, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin beneath your jaw.

"You don’t want that," he whispered.

You did.

You did.

But he was so close now, his body a careful, practiced cage around yours. His cologne, something dark and expensive, filled your lungs.

“I think you like this.” His voice was a murmur now, a secret only for you. "I think you like fighting with me. Like how I make you feel.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re delusional.”

Henry exhaled a quiet laugh, tipping his head slightly, close enough that you could feel his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“You know what I think?” he whispered.

You refused to answer.

“I think,” he continued, voice silken, “that you like the way I get under your skin. I think you wake up in the middle of the night replaying our arguments, rehearsing all the things you should have said." His fingers drifted lower, a ghost of a touch along the inside of your wrist. "I think it keeps you up.”

Your heart was hammering against your ribs, your breath uneven. You didn’t answer, but Henry wasn’t expecting you to. He tilted his head, considering you.

“I wonder,” he mused, his fingers slipping down to the curve of your waist, tracing over the fabric of your sweater, "if you even hate me as much as you pretend to."

Your skin burned under his touch, and you gritted your teeth, furious, at him, at yourself, at the way your body betrayed you.

“Henry,” you said, a very empty warning, hating how unsteady your voice was.

He only leaned in closer, his lips barely an inch from yours now, his breath warm, steady, unrushed.

"Why?" he murmured, his fingers tightening ever so slightly at your hip. “Afraid you’ll like it?”

Your nails dug into your palms. “You,”

Henry lifted a single brow, waiting.

You wanted to slap him or maybe you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kick yourself for wanting both. 

His fingers trailed up your spine, slow, deliberate. He pressed in closer, his body a whisper against yours, the heat of him making your knees weak.

And then, just as you thought he might close the distance, might press his lips to yours, might finally shatter whatever had been simmering between you for months, he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned in, let his mouth hover just beside yours, and whispered,

“Say please.”

It was so condescending. You refused. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, wouldn’t feed his ego with whatever twisted game he was playing. You shook your head, not saying a word. 

But Henry was patient.

His lips hovered just beside yours, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath, the maddening proximity of him. His fingers traced slow, idle patterns along your waist, barely touching, just enough to make your skin prickle with awareness.

"Nothing to say?" he murmured, voice low, teasing. "For once?"

You turned your head away, jaw tight, but he only laughed, a quiet, amused sound that made something coil hot and electric in your stomach.

Then, his hand caught your chin, turning your face back toward him. Not forceful. Not rough. But firm.

His thumb traced lightly over your bottom lip, the touch so featherlight it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I could make you beg,” he said, thoughtful, almost to himself. "If I wanted to."

Your breath caught. “Go to hell.”

Henry just hummed, nodding his head as to agree with your statement. "Ladies first."

And then, he dipped his head, his lips grazing along the line of your jaw. It wasn’t a kiss. Not really. Just a brush of warmth, a suggestion, as though he was testing you. As though he wanted to see how long you could last before you cracked.

“You hate me,” he mused, his mouth ghosting over your skin. “You hate this.”

Your fingers curled against his chest, gripping the soft, expensive fabric of his sweater like you weren’t sure whether to pull him closer or push him away. His lips moved lower, the curve of your throat, the sharp line of your collarbone, never quite touching, just enough to make you want to chase the feeling. And god, you hated that.

His hand slid lower, past your waist, tracing slow, teasing lines over your hip.

"Say please," he whispered again.

You swallowed hard. “Go fuck yourself.”

Henry sighed, like you were being particularly difficult, and then, he pressed his lips just beneath your ear, the faintest scrape of teeth against sensitive skin. Your breath hitched. His hands curled against your hips, pulling you just slightly, just barely, against him. And oh, you felt it then, how hard he was, how much he was enjoying this.

The realization sent something sharp and hot spiraling through you, a dangerous kind of thrill, a rush of power tangled with frustration and something else you weren’t ready to name. Henry leaned in, pressing his body flush against yours, caging you against the bookshelf.

And then, with a voice so low it was almost a growl, he murmured,

"I think you like being told what to do."

Your breath left you in a sharp exhale. Henry tilted his head, studying you, like he was savoring your reaction.

Slowly, maddeningly, he dragged his lips down the side of your throat, pressing an open-mouthed kiss just above your pulse. And before you know it, you let your desire overcome your body, you let it consume your movements and your thoughts. Your tongue tangled with his, so eager as you pulled his shirt desperately to bring him closer. He guided your tongue into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing you to bite your lip, toying with your mouth like he owned it. 

You hated him. You thought you had. He thought you had too but he could feel how much you loved this in your own sick and twisted way, your hips pressing against his. 

He smiles, moving his hands to grip your hips. In a quick movement, he guides you to the desk with all of your work scattered on it. He moves to stand behind you, and slowly trails down your spine with his finger tips before pushing you down to lean against the desk. Your hands slapped onto the table to catch yourself

“Henry,” you whined, trying to look over your shoulder at him. He smiled down at you while sliding up your skirt.

“Say please.” He already knew what your answer would be. He knew you couldn’t do it. Not yet.

You shook your head side to side, pressing yourself back into his hands. “You’re insufferable,” you managed, voice breathless, unsteady.

Henry exhaled a quiet laugh.

"You’re trembling."

You hated that he was right.

Hated the way your body betrayed you, the way his voice sent a pulse of heat straight through you.

He smiled, squeezing the ample flesh, then delivered a swift slap that made you gasp. “Oh darling, let’s see where this hatred will take us.” 

He slid his right hand between your legs, gliding two fingers over the damp spot on your panties. You gritted your teeth, not wanting him to be awarded the pleasure of your moans, gripping the wood of the table to keep yourself shut when he applied a little pressure, moving his hand in a slow circle. 

“Such a shame,” he said, pausing his movement. “Letting your pride get in the way of your own pleasure. It’s not as noble as you want to believe.”

“You’re a pretentious, self righteous, piece of sh-” you cut yourself off with a whine as his hand came down onto your flesh again. 

“There we are,” he murmured, and in quick movement, he pulled down your panties, letting the fabric pool around your ankles, and kicked your feet further apart, forcing you to lay your chest flush against the table. “So good for me now huh,” he purred, bringing his hand back between your legs. 

“Fuck you,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his hand.

You were already soaked, hot and slick as his middle finger swiped through your sex. He started massaging your clit, quick, light circles that had you moaning breathlessly. He moved away from your clit and eased his middle finger inside of you, curling gently as you bit your lip, nearly drawing blood. Your walls fluttered around him, sucking back against his finger when he pulled it out. You let an annoyed whine escape your lips, feeling pathetic to let it slip. 

“Say it,” he rasped, snaking a hand up your spine to grip your hair and pull your head back.

“No.” You replied through gritted teeth, and before you knew it you felt him pushing into you. He drew back a few inches before snapping his hips forward, gripping your hips as he pounded into you. 

You screamed, your whole body locking up and then losing all control of itself, collapsing harder onto the shaking table. He didn't let up, no matter how much you shook.

He was panting, the heat from the fire in the study made sweat collect around his hairline and drip down his spine. You felt as if your soul had ascended, you were reaching for the sublime. You let out loud noises from your lips, letting the pleasure drip like honey, letting him grip your hips. You didn’t want to, but you needed to. 

“Please, Henry, please.” You reached back for him, nails dragging along his forearm, and he felt himself teeter on the edge of release, his balls drawing up tight as liquid heat spread through his pelvis. 

“I knew you could do it. Just had to fuck that attitude out of you, didn’t I.” Your pussy clenched at his words, a wanton moan falling from your lips, and he smiled.

“Yes,” You moaned out, tears beginning to prick your eyes and threaten to fall onto your cheeks.

“How much do you want it?” Henry asked, almost politely, which almost made you laugh. If you didn’t feel like your body was being taken over, like pleasure was swimming through the veins of your body, making your heart pulse at a rate you didn't know was possible, you would have laughed. 

“So much, please Henry.” You were both so close, holding on to the brink of this worldly feeling. Then, it happened.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” It hit you, your whole body convulsing as it ripped through, and he was done for too. It flooded through you like golden light through cracked stained glass, something vast, something unbearable, an ecstasy so sharp it teetered on pain, leaving you trembling, hollowed out, and whole all at once. You were nothing but a vessel for it, a body undone by beauty, by longing, by the sheer ruinous joy of surrender.

Bracing his hands on the table as he came down, his hips involuntarily rocking into your greedy warmth. You, again, were trembling, completely boneless, held up entirely by the table and his hips. He leaned forward, pressing kisses into your hair. “All you needed to do was say please,” he murmured, throat tight with affection. 

“Such a jerk,” you muttered, amusement ringing through your tone so he could catch it. You chuckled before he moved his feet, letting you close your legs, and he hissed through his teeth at the new tightness around his softening cock, stealing a final thrust before slipping out of you.

The only sounds were the ragged edge of your breathing, the ticking of the antique clock on the far wall, and the faint rustle of Henry adjusting his sweater sleeves and you fixing your own clothes up.

You were slumped against the desk, fingers curled against the polished wood as if it might anchor you, keep you from unraveling entirely. Your skin was feverish, your body still humming with the aftershocks of everything that had just happened.

Henry, infuriatingly composed, leaned back against the bookshelf, watching you. His lips were pink, his hair mussed in a way that betrayed his otherwise careful exterior. 

You tilted your head and smiled slightly, biting back its full capacity. “Don’t look so smug.”

“Why not?” His voice was languid, smug, so utterly him you could’ve throttled him. “I think I’ve earned it.”

You had to force yourself not to laugh. “You-”

Shifting closer, voice a murmur. “Would you rather I pretend it didn’t happen? That you didn’t enjoy it?”

You bristled, standing so abruptly your knees nearly buckled. Henry caught your wrist before you could move away, his fingers light but firm.

"Careful," he murmured, tilting his head. "I wouldn’t want you to fall."

Your pulse leapt.

“You’re staring,” you muttered, still breathless.

“So are you.”

You scowled, pushing yourself up, reaching for your coat draped over the chair. “Well, I’m leaving.”

Henry hummed. “Why?”

You hesitated, fingers curling in the fabric. And then, just as you turned toward the door, Henry caught your wrist, not forcefully, not teasingly, just… gently. A stark contrast to everything that had just transpired between you.

“Stay.” His voice was quieter now, none of the sharp edges from earlier, none of the arrogance. Just the simple weight of the word. You swallowed, suddenly unsure.

“We hate each other,” you reminded him, but your voice lacked its usual bite.

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Do we?”

Your heart pounded. He was still holding your wrist, thumb brushing absentmindedly over your pulse. It wasn’t calculated, wasn’t another move in whatever game the two of you had been playing for years.

It was just him, just you.

“I won’t ask again,” he murmured, eyes searching yours. “If you want to go, go.”

For a second, you thought about it, thought about leaving, pretending none of this had happened, continuing as if you still couldn’t stand the sight of him.

But then, instead of pulling away, your fingers curled around his.

You exhaled, shoulders sinking. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to walk back in the cold.”

Henry’s lips twitched. “Of course.”

You rolled your eyes, but when he laced your fingers together, you didn’t let go.

[kasagia]

My love will never die

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x moon summoner! reader Summary: You knew Aleksander before he was a Black Heretic, a foldmaker. You married him and promised to be by his side through thick and thin. And you never, ever regretted your choice. However, one day, your paths parted in an unfortunate way, and you both believed that the love of your lives was gone forever. After many centuries, you meet again with a man very similar to your Aleksander. And you start to wonder... maybe your love never die after all? Warning(s): ANGST, de@th mention, the reader yearns for Aleksander, and Aleksander yearns for the reader :c I USED FRAGMENT OF THE SONG "Jeg Saler Min Ganger" FROM THE SERIES "LOKI" Nonsense from me: So this is request from @morrigan-crowmwell Thank you so much, I was super excited to write this! I hope this is more or less what you asked for and that you like it.♡♡ I'm sorry it took me soooo long! ♡♡ Word count: 13k

"Aleksander Morozova! You'll be late to meet your mother!" you squealed as he stole another long kiss from you. "We don't have time for this, Sasha." you moaned, when he moved his lips to your sensitive neck.

"Nonsense… I always have time to properly say goodbye to my wife before I leave." he murmured against your skin, sucking on your weak spot behind your ear. He smiled slyly, hearing the sweet moan coming from your red lips, swollen from kissing.

Saints, he could stay in your arms for the rest of eternity.

"As much as your wife loves your goodbyes, she'd rather her mother-in-law didn't wander in the middle of one, looking for her spoiled son."

"This is how you say goodbye to your husband, lapushka? Calling him spoiled and hurting his feelings?" he asked indignantly, hovering over his beautiful wife and looking at her intently. He wanted to burn the view below him into his mind until he was back in her arms again.

"I have been "goodbye-ing" you for three hours, Aleksander. Don't you think that's enough for a 4 day trip?"

"I need at least one more hour to enjoy you." he murmured, placing more kisses on your already-marked neck.

"If Baghra finds us…" you moaned as he bit your neck gently, effectively silencing you, and got out of your head all the reasons why he should go now.

"It would be helpful if you would stop thinking about my mother while I try to kiss every inch of your gorgeous skin. Besides, don't worry about her. She likes you—sometimes even more than her own son, I have to admit. If anything, she'll blame me."

"Don't worry, sobachka (puppy), you'll always be my favourite." you smirked, flipping him onto the mattress of your bed and straddling him, marking his skin with your lips, making sure you'd give him back the same favour.

"I thought we didn't have time for this?" he purred meanly, pleased with your attention.

"Shut up and kiss me, Sasha." you demanded with an equally malicious gleam in your eyes, knowing full well how this would end. Bagra was right. You had him wrapped around your little finger. Which was good considering how many female Grishas wanted to catch his eye.

"As you wish, milaya." without a second's hesitation, he grabbed your cheek and pulled you into a kiss, pinning you back under him on the mattress.

Disappointment, as usual, overtook you after waking up from this beautiful dream. During those few centuries, flashbacks about HIM only became more frequent. Someone should hang that fool who said time heals all wounds. In your case, it only made it worse.

You'd give anything to go back a few hundred years and not let him go alone with his mother on this trip. You didn't even remember why they went to Aleksander's sister.

You had a vague memory of that day, only remembering the morning with your husband and the fragments of the Fjerdans' attack on your village.

But the moment you found out you were a moon summoner will forever be etched deep in your memories.

You helped your best friend's family and herself escape when the men attacked you. You defended yourself using all the tricks and attacks Alexander had taught you, but it wasn't enough against a band of trained soldiers.

Just as he was about to slash his sword at you, you felt heat radiating deep from your chest. You screamed, falling to your knees as light began to emit from you, blinding some soldiers and killing those close to you. The first time you've used the cut and your power.

You escaped with your friend and her brother - the last survivors, and hid in the city, pretending to be siblings who managed to survive the great fire caused by Grisha.

It was hard to pretend to hate your own people and even harder to hide your new powers. But the hardest thing was going through all this without Aleksander by your side.

You tried to contact him, search in every possible way. But the world was different back then. Your attempts in advance were doomed to failure. And you knew it. But your stupid heart made you search for your husband until the end.

And you did. Until the news of the Black Heretic, the shadow summoner, who died while creating the fold, spread across the world.

You mourned Aleksander for a long time. Your life went on, but the wound of losing your husband never healed. And you knew it wouldn't. He was your great, true love. Your end game. It was impossible to let him go, to make place in your heart for someone new.

Time passed, and everything around you slowly changed. Except you. Your friends got old, grey, and wrinkled. And you remained the same as those decades ago. Then you discovered your second curse. You were immortal.

You and Aleksander could have lived together forever if not for Shu Han's and Fjerda's people.

It was the time when you vowed to finish Aleksander's work at any cost. His sacrifice will not be in vain. You were supposed to build a Ravka safe for the Grishas. All you needed was a sun and shadow summoner.

So you waited. At any sign of the sun summoner's presence. You knew Aleksander's lineage was fine. People often spoke of the descendants of the Black Heretic. You've never come close to them. You didn't want to relive the pain that would be associated with being with a member of his family. Aleksander had no children, but his sister probably did; maybe even Baghra found someone - you weren't sure about the old woman's fate.

The past centuries have not been kind to you. But this month was fruitful in terms of good news. The sun summoner has been found, the king of Ravka was ill, and your men were on the trail of Morozova's deer.

And that's how you were on your way to meet Alina Starkov and the descendant of the Morozovas, General Kirigan.

You were supposed to change the world together - in memory of your Aleksander.

~•♤♤♤•~

Aleksander had never been in such a hurry to get home before.

He was so desperate to have you in his arms again that he even ignored all of his mother's taunts, remarks, and other snide comments. All that mattered to him now was coming home to you.

That's why he bravely endured his mother's teasing remarks as they rode horseback towards your cottage.

He was excited, only moments away from returning to the love of his life.

He missed you more than he dared admit to anyone. And he was a little ashamed of how an ordinary woman without Grisha's powers, like you, could have such power over him.

NO. You were not ordinary. You were his wife, friend, lover, support, rock, asylum, home. The only one to whom he entrusted his heart and soul voluntarily and without the slightest hesitation.

And with this gift his sister gave him, Aleksander will make sure you stay with him forever. That you'll live as long as he does. Neither of them, nor he, Baghra, nor his sister knew if this "gift" would work.

But Aleksander would be damned if he didn't try to keep you in his arms forever.

It didn't matter how many times he failed, trying to make you his equal, trying to turn you into a Grisha with similar powers to his. He was ready to do everything for you.

Aleksander sped up seeing your house. In his haste, he didn't even notice that he had lost his mother and that the scenery around him seemed to be getting darker and more frightening.

He practically leapt off his horse and raced to the door, opening it and rushing inside as fast as he could.

"Y/N?! Sweetheart, I'm home!" he shouted, expecting that as soon as you heard his voice, you would come running, throwing yourself into his arms.

But he was greeted by nothing but a terrible, deadly silence.

The scattered things in the corridor made him slightly anxious, but he dismissed his dark thoughts by saying that you were a little mess. However, after he still didn't hear any response from you, he started to worry.

He entered the living room only to find shattered furniture, an overturned bookshelf, and a broken window.

He panicked. He went mad with fear, screaming your name and running around the house like crazy, looking for you or any clues to where you might have run away.

His heart stopped when he found your battered body under an overturned wardrobe.

In the blink of an eye, he got you out from under the furniture and took you in his arms, trying to bring you back to consciousness.

"Y/N, please, Y/N, open your eyes! You can't leave me, not like that! Y/N! My sweet wife, my heart, please open your eyes!" he was shaking you in panic, begging all the saints to prove his dark suppositions wrong.

"Aleksander?" your quiet, tearful whisper both relieved him and broke his heart.

You lived. He hasn't lost you yet.

NO.

He couldn't lose you. He has to take you to the healer.

"Yes, love, it's me. Everything is fine now. I got you. Just stay with me until I get a help."

"You promised to protect me... why didn't you protect me, Aleksander? Have you stopped loving me?" your desperate whimper tore his soul in half. He began to shake all over, despising the feeling of helplessness and distress that had completely taken over him.

"What? No, I'll always love only you..." he felt your body suddenly go limp in his arms. He gripped your shoulders even tighter, shaking you in his panic attack. "Y/N? Y/N?! Y/N open your eyes! Y/N no! Don't leave me! Darling, no!" he screamed desperately in pain, burying his head in your hair and crying as he knelt on the floor and rocked with your cold body in his arms.

~•♤♤♤•~

Aleksander sprang from his bed.

The general was breathing fast, trying to calm himself after another nightmare involving you.

His beautiful wife. His epic love.

For hundreds of years, the day he lost the only love of his life played out in his nightmares in different ways. This time, his subconscious was kind enough to let him talk to you for a while. Usually, he finds your body either impaled or dismembered. He never managed to save you. With none of those dreams.

His dreams might have macabred the events of that day, but he had never, in all those hundreds of years of his life, forgotten what really happened. He has not forgotten the grief, anger, sadness, and despair that overcame him when he and Baghra found their village burned to the ground without any trace of you.

Despite his search, he still didn't know what really happened to you, and he doubted he'd ever find out the truth. If all this had happened a few years later, if he hadn't been a boy just discovering the true power growing within him then, but the man he is now, you'd never despair like that. You'd never leave him to mourn over the future you two could have if only he was more powerful.

He was trying to fool himself. Telling himself that if you survived, you would have lived a much better life than you'd lived with him by your side. What could he have given you, then? An uncertain future, living in hiding, being hunted by the king's men? You were worth much more. You were worth all the jewels and treasures of this land, safety, peace, family, and happiness. Aleksander couldn't give you that. Not then.

He couldn't remember how many sleepless nights he'd spent wishing he could meet you now, to have you by his side, when he was this powerful man who could look after you properly, who would throw the world at your feet or burn it to the ground, depending on your humour.

But every time the sun came up and he had to continue playing his new role, the bitter reality made him realise that he would never have you again. He will never feel your soft skin under his fingers again, never lose himself in those beautiful, mesmerising irises, never run his hand through your hair, never take in your wonderful, intoxicating scent, and never taste your alluring, feisty lips again.

He was alone. And he will be until the end.

Until he widens the fold and makes sure no more Grisha dies at the hands of common otkazat'sya. That none of his people will repeat your fate.

He was supposed to change the world - in memory of his Y/N.

And then, maybe fate will be kind enough to reunite him with his beloved wife on the other side.

~•♤♤♤•~

Alina Starkov was a pain in the ass.

It took the girl only 15 minutes to run away from Kirigan's Grishas and get herself into trouble. She has damn luck that you decided to follow her and rescue her sunny ass.

You disappeared as soon as you made eye contact with her after you burned the Fjerdans with your pale, white light.

You wandered through the forest, cursing under your breath at the carelessness of both sun and shadow summoners. You didn't know which was worse, the impetuous girl or the thoughtless general who just let her get away.

With helpers like that, you'll have to work twice as hard to make the fold bigger. Fate really had no mercy on you.

You stood by the river, sighing in relief as you washed the blood from your face with cold water.

Your moment of peace didn't last long, however. You sensed an additional presence—someone creeping towards you. You took out one of your daggers and braced yourself for an attack.

But the moment you turned to face your opponent, you froze.

Aleksander...

He was standing in front of you. In a black kefta, a man so like your husband that just looking at him hurts you more than any blade could. This gaze, this face, were hunting you each night, every time you closed your eyes. And now he was standing right before you.

And the worst of it all was that it wasn't your Aleksander.

Only his descendant looking just like him. A shell that resembles the only man you've ever loved.

In your rage, you attacked him first, taking out your anger on him for the saints for continuing to play you mercilessly by putting your husband's doppelgänger in your way.

But Kirigan did not give up so easily. As soon as you moved towards him, he too snapped out of his strange daze and drew his dagger as well. The clang of metal echoed across the clearing as you both tried to find the other's weak spot. Oddly enough, you both did it at the same time.

"Put that down and I'll consider whether or not to spare your life." he growled, holding your arm in a tight grip as he felt your nails digging through the skin on his hand.

"Femoral artery. You'll bleed out faster than me." you replied with a malicious smirk, ignoring his threats.

"Who are you?"

"My mother taught me better than to make friends with the stranger freak in the forest, sir. Especially when they have a dagger dangerously close to my back." you kicked him, pushing him away from you, and attacked again. The clanking of steel against each other echoed across the clearing as your daggers met halfway. You growled in frustration, pushing him away.

"Your mother should teach you not to attack everyone you meet. You may encounter someone much stronger than you." Kirigan recovered faster this time, storming at you.

You ended up in a rather uncomfortable position as you held the steel against his heart and he wrapped his arm halfway around you, pulling you close. You didn't know if you were more dissatisfied with the metal digging into your chest or with his hands on you.

"And yours that you shouldn't raise a hand against a woman. I guess they both failed."

Did you both just say the exact same thing when you first met your husband? Yes.

Will he get lenient treatment from you just because he looks like your Aleksander? Absolutely fucking no.

Taking advantage of his moment of inattention as he stared at you distractedly, you pulled out the second hidden dagger and placed it against his neck. You tried to push his hand away from you, but the man, feeling the extra-cold blade against his skin, woke up from his trance and grabbed your left hand aggressively.

He moved your blade away from his neck and pinned you to the tree, slamming your left hand hard against the trunk, making the weapon fly out of your hand and bury itself in the ground near his foot.

Kirigan pressed his dagger to your side, leaning closer to you. He stared intently into your eyes, and for a brief moment you saw longing flicker in his dark eyes, which then gave way to rage and frustration, equal to the one that exploded inside you the moment you saw him. The moment you noticed that saints still played cruel with you by creating someone so damn similar to your husband.

He has no right to have the same face and eyes as your lost love.

"What. Are. You?" he asked, pausing on each word to intimidate you and bring his face closer to yours. But you didn't care much. You have hundreds of years; nothing, especially the doppelgänger of the man you love, could scare you.

You stared at each other with hostile eyes, and for some reason (other than your dagger at his thigh), he had some sort of hatred for you as well. So much so that he didn't notice how your powers reached for each other where your skin touched.

Strangely, it felt familiar to you. HE felt familiar.

You stared into each other's eyes as you unknowingly leaned in closer. You were about to try to break free from his grip when a sudden snap of branches caught your attention.

"That's you! She saved me from the Frejdans, sir." Alina's voice pulled him out of this strange moment between you two.

You wanted to find a sun summoner. You spent several hundred years on this, but the girl had hellishly bad timing.

Kirigan moved away from you, but you both continued to aim your daggers at each other, not trusting each other for a moment. Even though Alina just admitted that you saved her life.

"Why did you do that?"

"Someone so powerful like you should recognise when they stand before their equal, general Kirigan." you sneered, glancing for a moment at the woman standing next to both of you. Fortunately, nothing happened to her. She had a few scratches, but nothing that even the most ordinary medic couldn't heal.

"And how exactly are we equal?"

You smirked mischievously as you slipped the dagger into your sheath.

You linked your hands, focusing on the warm feeling of your light coursing through your veins, and without taking your eyes off the general's, you pulled them apart, revealing a thread of white light. You spread your arms wider, causing the rays to illuminate the clearing around you.

They both stared at you in amazement as your light turned into stars, which then arranged themselves into constellations. Figures of saints ran around you until you flicked your wrist to make them disappear.

"Melinoe Petrova. Moon Summoner. I think the three of us are going to change the world together."

You watched the speechless Alina with satisfaction, but your smile faded as you shifted your gaze to Kirigan. You had some difficulty reading him, but even more so understanding the longing in his eyes.

It seems your problems with a shadowman have only just begun…

~•♤♤♤•~

Kirigan didn't trust you.

You weren't surprised by it, but you hoped it would be easier for you to manipulate him. Apparently, the descendant of Aleksander inherited family cunning and distrust.

It's been a month since your little encounter (and fight) in the woods. In the meantime, you've been living in the Little Palace with the other Grishas; you met the king and got your own fancy kefta.

Black kefta. With moons, stars, and so on.

You wouldn't care about the colour of the fabric if it didn't turn out that only Kirigan wore one. Bloody Alina was the first to find Genya and get herself a blue one. So you stayed in your black kefta, pretending the general wasn't trying to mark you as his property.

But the son of a bitch liked your look in his colours too much for you to accept it.

It didn't help that he was too much like your Aleksander, either. Many times you've held back from taunting, making snide comments, or yelling at him just because those fucking dark eyes looked at you, taking you back hundreds of years to the time when HE was by your side and looked at you like that.

The similarity between them was not only in appearance. They had a lot in common when it came to character traits. Stubborn, mischievous, prescient, well-read... sometimes, when you spent too much time in his war room, you found yourself thinking of him as your Aleksander.

So slowly, despite all your self-loathing, you fell in love with the general.

That's why you were hiding from him in the library, hoping Alina, Zoya, or anyone else would keep him busy tonight enough to forget that you were supposed to meet him after dinner.

You had to suppress that stupid feeling. He was not Aleksander. He was just your husband's doppelgänger. Just a shell of your lover.

"Mel? Are you okey?" Alina's soft, concerned whisper snapped you out of your thoughts.

"I'm fine. Another nightmare?" you asked, patting the space next to you and opening the edge of the blanket for the girl to sit with you.

Your beginnings with Alina were not colourful; the sunny girl irritated you and could easily throw you off balance. But as time passed, you became friends to the point where you comforted her after her nightmares about the fold and the deaths of her loved ones. Sometimes you would read her old Ravkan fairy tales or sneak into the kitchen for hidden sweets. In more critical situations, you would drag her outside to the gardens, where you would sit on the pier by the lake, watching it gleam in the moonlight.

In a way, you too found solace in comforting the girl. It was nice to have company after being alone for so long. Fighting your past, which was showing up in your dreams, was easier with a ray of sunshine by your side.

"No. This time I can't sleep."

"Are you bothered by overly comfortable pillows, or maybe our princess felt a pea under the mattress?" Alina snorted, shaking her head. It took her some time to realise that your sarcastic remarks were not intended to offend her but merely to make her laugh.

"I'm thinking about Mal."

"Oh yeah… your boyfriend and childhood friend, what's up with him?" you asked, slamming the book shut to turn all your attention to the black-haired girl.

"He's not my boyfriend. We are only friends." she murmured, blushing, obviously awkward at your apt comment.

"Sunshine, I can recognise the face and eyes of a woman in love. You can't hide your feelings from me."

"Well, you're not the only one with this gift. Kirigan also gives you an infatuated man's look. Don't deny it! Even Ivan can see it. I think that already half of the second army knows about their general's fondness for the moon summoner." she teased you with a cocky smirk on her face. You rolled your eyes, returning your attention to your book.

"Please, half of the Grishas look at me like that."

You knew what Alina meant. Kirigan looked to you as the solution to his fold problems - as did the other Grishas. Little did they know that instead of being their saviour, you gonna be their worst nightmare... a White Heretic.

"No, not in that way. They look at you, at us, as saints, as saviours who can destroy the fold. He admires you, not your power. And judging by the fact that you're still wearing a black kefta, he's not indifferent to you either."

You inadvertently snuggled deeper into the black material. Alina was partly right; maybe you didn't want to get involved in any romance, but it would definitely be easier to manipulate the general who is infatuated with you. You could have taken advantage of the fact that seeing you in his colours put him in a strangely pleasant mood. You've used your black clothes more than once as a weapon in your negotiations with the dark general.

"I have a black kefta because some irritatingly fast sun summoner found Genya first and got herself a dark blue one. You didn't leave me much choice, Alina."

"How sorry I am for that. By the way, Kirigan asked about you. He waits in his chambers, longing to finally see you after you've been ruthlessly ignoring him all day."

"I'm not done with you, Starkov!" you shouted after her, but the girl was already at the door, sticking her tongue out at you.

"See you in the morning, Petrova! You will tell me about your meeting with the General." she said as she walked away, slamming the library door.

"That little bitch." you muttered under your breath, wondering if you should go. You could have lied to him and said that you didn't meet Alina and forgot about your meeting. You only doubted the sun summoner's loyalty to you...

However, you started gathering your things, knowing full well that you would have to leave the library anyway.

You frowned as you heard soft footsteps behind you that probably no normal human would have heard… at least not one who hadn't lived at least a hundred years of hiding and running.

"Ivan." you greeted him without turning to face him. The man stopped, obviously surprised that you sensed his presence. However, he quickly returned to his unemotional mode.

"Miss Petrova. The General requests your presence in the war room."

"I was on my way." you replied, knowing full well that the man knew the truth. More than once, he chased you around the Little Palace at the general's behest. Fortunately, he had enough sense in his head not to make Kirigan aware that your memory was reliable and you didn't meet him only out of your own reluctance (actually, a huge desire to see him). "Alina just told me he wants to see me."

Ivan nodded and waited for you to escort you to the war room.

~•♤♤♤•~

Considering the fact that you were a regular visitor to Kirigan's war room, you should know the way to his chambers. But each time, you seemed to take a completely different route than the last time.

Ivan had to repay your elusiveness by making the longest trips to the general's room.

But this time, heartrender quickly dropped you off at his general's door and, wishing you good night, disappeared into one of the corridors.

You sighed, not wanting to face your growing infatuation and subsequent attempts to manipulate the general into carrying out your plans today.

You opened the door, entering the "vestibule". You pricked up your ears as you heard Kirigan talking to someone very familiar. Zoya.

"You used to call on me. On times like this. Your table wasn't messy, and in bed, it was me instead of these books. I can help you make it all right. Just let yourself relax." without knowing why, you wanted to go in there and interrupt whatever plan she had to seduce him. And not because you felt jealousy eating you up inside. You were supposed to be the one to lead him by the nose to do whatever you wanted. Not that windy bitch who was ruining your plan.

"I shall relax when my moon summoner comes here to help me with this. With her by my side, you don't need to worry about me anymore. I'm with the perfect helper." you chuckled internally, wanting so much to see the look on her face after he had rejected her. You figured this would be the perfect time to step in.

"Am I disturbing?" you asked as you walked inside.

If Zoya was an inferni, the general's room would probably go up in flames at the sight of you. Kirigan, on the other hand, seemed very pleased to see you. His eyes were focused only on you. And your black nightgown, over which you threw on (also the black) kefta he ordered.

"Not at all. Zoya was about to leave a few minutes ago."

"General." he said. Kirigan did not even glare at her as she bowed to him. She walked past you, giving you a hostile look, which you only smirked at.

"Didn't you forget something?" Kirigan's sharp question broke the silence between the three of you. Zoya stood immobile, as if engraved. She stared at the general for a moment, then clenched her hands into fists and bowed to you.

"Miss Petrova." she growled, then stormed out of the war room, slamming the door.

"It wasn't necessary. You'll only infuriate her more by forcing her to show me respect." you said, turning to face the general, who was suddenly right behind you. He was the only one who could sneak up on you. A skill he used extensively.

"You're the moon summoner… you'll get all the respect you deserve. I'll make sure about it." he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"You can't make people do it. Respect is something that has to be earned, something that has no meaning if it is given involuntarily." his silence surprised you. He usually answered your words with 10 of his. But now he was staring at you silently, which didn't help your already fast-beating heart. "So what do we have on the agenda today, general? Arguments about whether we really need First Army soldiers or you don't know where Loavana is."

"I know where Loavana is. I was tired then, and besides, you were the one who turned the map and misled me."

"Of course, general." you snorted, smiling teasingly. You moved to the other side of the table, tactically increasing the distance between you. "So, did you summon me for any reason other than staring at my natural glow? Because honestly, I'm getting a little bored." you said as you sat down on the table and casually reached for one of the orders he had written.

"Always impatient." he muttered, suddenly appearing in front of you and gently taking the paper from your hand.

"Always too mysterious."

"This may surprise you, but I have other things on my mind than your natural glow, little moon."

"What a shame." you murmured, placing your hand over your heart in a hurt gesture. But you became serious when you saw him staring dully at the map. "What's bothering you?"

"The Fjerdans have moved closer to our border."

"How many?" you asked, jumping off the table and turning your full attention to the distressed general.

"Several branches. Enough to get our attention and attack one of our regiments." he replied, pouring himself a glass of liquor and handing you your own.

"We need to speed up Alina's training. Before all hell breaks loose and our great king orders our troops to be divided to fight the Fjerdans. The fold case must be finally closed. Before we go to another war. For now, we have to send some of our healers and additional troops there. If there are more of Grishas there, no Fjerdan will dare attack them. They will shift their attention to the soldiers of the first army, and this will no longer be a direct problem for us." you turned to him, confused by his silence. Kirigan stared at you with a gentle, tender smile on his face and a longing, dreamy look. The silence between the two of you and the gaze he was giving you embarrassed you. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?"

"No." he grunted, shaking his head as he blushed slightly when you caught him staring. "I just... I was fighting this war alone for so long."

This was the moment. You had to cast your net over him, surround him at his most vulnerable, and make him fall for you.

But you forgot to guard your own heart in the process...

You grabbed his hand. Your powers combined as usual when your skin touched, causing you to be enveloped in the utter darkness of his shadows, with only the white light emanating from your joined hands illuminating your faces.

"You're not alone." you whispered, afraid to break the spell between you. Afraid that the moment your voice reaches him, those damn hypnotic eyes will tear away from yours. Afraid your mind is about to scold the stupid heart that beat for the man before you. A man who, for the sake of your sanity, was too much like the husband you loved.

"I've been waiting a long time for you." he replied just as quietly, afraid to break the sanctity of the moment. Afraid it was another of his cruel dreams where he would have your dead body in his arms again. But the reality was even more brutal for him. Because the woman who stood before him, the woman who looked exactly like his wife, wasn't her at all. And that didn't stop his cold, centuries-old heart from beating for her.

"Believe me, not as long as me." you whispered. Tears began to gather in his eyes, threatening to spill out as he raised his other trembling hand and cupped your cheek. The feel of his cold hand on your face made you realise what you were doing. He was not Aleksander. He wasn't yours. And you will never be his. "I think I should go." you grunted, stepping away from him.

His shadows returned to him, as did your light. Everything has returned to normal. Except for the frantic beating of the hearts of the two of you.

"Don't forget about tomorrow's ball. We're supposed to put on a little show for the king and his nobility."

"How could I forget that we're supposed to be circus monkeys tomorrow?" you asked with a pugnacious smirk, to which he just shook his head in amusement.

"Don't let anyone else hear it. I don't want to visit you in a dungeon… however tempting you look in chains." his bold suggestion shocked you, but you decided to play on without giving him a chance to have the last word. You walked over to him and, ignoring his intense gaze, whispered in his ear with your lips brushing his earlobe.

"I'm not that easy to put in chains, general." you brushed his cheek with yours and disappeared from the war room at the speed of light.

It was something you could do. Game, flirt, chase, challenge—all kept away from any emotion other than lust. It was a game. Manipulation game. And you were going to win it. For your Aleksander and other Grishas.

~•♤♤♤•~

Your dress was so beautiful and wonderful. You admire Genya's skills, but what she did for you this time was indescribable.

With trembling hands, you smoothed the fabric of the dress around your waist, admiring the intricate embroidery of the constellations. The white and silver threads shone in the candlelight like real stars on your dark blue dress.

You didn't like getting dressed up, getting your hair up in a fancy hairstyle, or wearing those uncomfortable ball gowns. In fact, you've only worn formal clothes a few times in your life. But only twice did you feel like a true goddess, a queen. Today and on your wedding day.

"Who put that veil on you?" Baghra's grumpy tone snapped you out of your thoughts as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You had a lovely dress, even considering that neither you nor Aleksander and his mother had as much money compared to other families. But it didn't matter. Not for you. The most important was Alexander and you. And not the judgmental looks of other people. It was your day and no one could ruin it for you.

"Myself. Something's wrong?"

The woman sighed as she walked over to you and unfastened it with unusual delicacy for her, mumbling something about your blindness as she adjusted your crooked veil.

"Now. You look almost properly. You're missing one thing."

"Which is?"

She reached into the pouch strapped to her side and pulled out something shiny. She gestured for you to turn towards the mirror. You did it while watching a woman put the most beautiful necklace you've ever seen around your neck.

"Bagra is… it's wonderful. I can't…"

"Yes, you can. And you will be. I won't let that old hag gossip about my daughter looking like a poor peasant on her wedding day."

"Thank you." you whispered in a shaky voice, more concerned that the woman called you her daughter than the ridiculously expensive and beautiful necklace.

"Come on. Don't cry, or you'll turn red and scare everyone, including my son. You'd better hurry up. The boy is about to have a heart attack if you're another minute late. If it wasn't for Ulla, he would have run here 10 minutes ago."

"Did she manage to come?" you asked as she took your arm with the obvious intention of walking you down the aisle.

"Of course. That's my daughter. She wouldn't waste the opportunity to tease her crazy-in-love brother." you giggled, not missing her little smile. The woman stopped right in front of the exit door, giving you a serious look. "Y/N, are you absolutely sure you want this? You know our true origins, my boy's character, and all the dark things our family has been through. Are you absolutely sure you want to join this mess? 'Cause once we walk through that door, there's no turning back."

"I think we both know the answer to that question, Baghra."

"No. I need to hear it. Do you truly want this?"

"I dream of nothing more than marrying Aleksander, and spending my whole life with him, no matter how long or short it may be."

The woman nodded silently and opened the door.

A wide smile appeared on your face as soon as your gaze met the clearly nervous Aleksander. He calmed down the moment he saw you, an equally goofy, in-love smirk playing on his lips. And when he finally had you at arm's length, he didn't hesitate to grab your hands in his firm grip, never taking his eyes off yours for a moment.

It was just you and him. Lost in your love.

And so began your little eternity together... shorter than either of you would have liked.

You'll always remember that day, even if it was associated with bittersweet memories of your all-too-short marriage. A single tear fell from your eye. You wiped it with the sleeve of your dress.

Your hand automatically wandered under your dress, absently stroking the Baghra's necklace to which you had attached your wedding ring. The only memento of your past.

In another life, you and Aleksander could have had it all.

"Little moon? Are you ready?" Kirigan entered your room." We're going... soon." you could see in the mirror how he froze as his eyes met your reflection in the silver mirror.

You turned to him, making a sweeping movement with your skirt. You wouldn't waste your chance to be a diva. However, you yourself soon succumbed to a similar blackout as his as soon as you assumed the general's appearance.

The saints really liked to torment you.

There was no other explanation for why the man in front of you looked almost exactly like your husband on your wedding day.

Aleksander couldn't take his eyes off her. She was perfect. Ethereal, otherworldly, and breathtaking. His Y/N... No. She wasn't her. No one could be her, not even a woman with her face. Which didn't stop him from giving himself to this dream that it was his wife standing in front of him. He spent hundreds of years in suffering; maybe this one night he can afford to live in his most beautiful dreams, where SHE would still be with him.

He cleared his throat, snapping you both out of the strange, nostalgic atmosphere.

"You look amazing." you blushed as you turned back to the mirror, pretending to consider the truth of his compliment.

"Thank you. Genya makes wonderful dresses." you reached for the kefta thrown over the armchair, but the man beat you to it.

"Please, allow me." you nodded to him. You turned your back to him, waiting for him to put the kefta on your shoulders.

He smoothed it out, letting his hand brush the fabric of your bare collarbones for a moment too long. You shivered as you felt the tiny touch of his fingertips on your bare skin. Good thing the kefta covered most of your bare arms. You didn't want to give him satisfaction for how he was affecting you.

But judging by his dilated pupils, you weren't the only one who felt the attraction between the two of you.

However, you will definitely not be the one to give in to such trivial desires. He was not Aleksander. Nobody could.

"Thank you again." you murmured as you pulled away from him, smiling. You preferred to act oblivious to his advances rather than risk giving in to the lust that was evident between the two of you. Although you knew there would come a point in your little game where you'd have to seduce him a bit to lull his guard down. And you feared that moment more than entering the fold.

"Anytime, love. Shall we?" he asked, offering you his arm. "I hope you spare me at least one dance." he murmured, smiling at you with that flirty twinkle in his eyes as he kissed your hand.

Wonderfully. Now he was supposed to be your personal bodyguard for all night.

You sighed, grabbing his arm. Kirigan pulled you closer as he escorted you through the maze of corridors.

It was going to be a really tough day. - you thought, allowing yourself to steal a glance at the general who was already watching you. - Especially with those eyes so focused on me.

~•♤♤♤•~

The Kirigan left you alone for a moment just before entering the ballroom. You were to wait for him and Alina, and then the three of you were to give little shows of darkness and light.

So you waited patiently until someone bumped into you, knocking you to the floor.

"Watch where you walk!" you growled, dusting yourself off as you got up off the floor. The hooded figure stopped and turned to you. You both froze when you saw your faces.

"Y/N?" Baghra asked in disbelief. "It is impossible." she whispered, coming closer to you and catching your hand in a strong, bruising grip, only to grab your necklace later, which had slipped out from under your dress after you fell. She looked at him tenderly, shifting her gaze to you.

"Hello mom." you whispered uncertainly, fearing your mother-in-law's reaction. She liked you, it's true, but in the meantime, you managed to disappear without a trace for hundreds of years. You didn't know what your relationship was like now. But rather, neither of you could be hostile to the other.

"It's really you… But how? I… we thought you were dead, child. Where have you been all this time?"

"A little here, a little there. Forgive me for not writing or coming. I think you understand perfectly well why I didn't."

"Not even a bit, actually." she replied, confused. You frowned. You've never seen Baghra confused. It was a strange sight, to say the least, and definitely worth remembering.

"You know how dear he was... Aleksander is to me. After his death..."

"Death?" she asked. You didn't know if you misheard or if the surprise in her voice was genuine. She rather knew about his death, didn't she?

"Yes. While creating a fold." you explained, looking at her intently. But Baghra's face never betrayed anything. Not any single emotion. She tucked the necklace under your dress and grabbed your shoulders.

"Oh, my dear child. For all this time..."

"Baghra!" Kirigan's scream echoed through the empty corridor. The woman stepped back from you like she was burned, watching the general with contempt as he approached the two of you. "What are you talking about with my moon summoner? I hope she didn't bother you too much, Miss Petrova."

"Not at all. Actually…"

"I was just leaving, moi soverenyi." the woman interrupted you, giving you an enigmatic look, before she turned her back to you two. "Enjoy yourself, Miss Petrova." she threw over her shoulder as she walked away.

"Crazy woman. But he teaches the young Grisha well. What did she want from you?"

"Nothing special. She asked where I was from and what I was doing here. I don't think she's heard of the new moon summoner yet."

"Probably you are right. Let's go. We've got a show to play."

He took your hand gently and led you to the centre of the room, where Alina was already waiting for you.

You had a simple task. Kirigan summons shadows. Alina, on the other side of the room, her golden rays, and you, the white moonlight that was supposed to connect with her powers, then break up into several constellations.

A child's trick and spectacle for the common folk who treated you like toys all rolled into one.

Everything was going smoothly. Suddenly, the room was completely dark. You waited patiently for Alina's light to appear on the other side of the room. When suddenly someone approached you from behind.

"It's okay, it's me. It's just me, you're safe."

"What are you doing?" you asked as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, taking both of your hands in his.

"Don't you think this is the best place to watch the whole show?" his question confused you. You turned in his arms, miraculously seeing those bloody, dark eyes in the darkness. The mischievous sparks both made your chest feel warm and terrified. The bastard was up to something.

"I doubt it; with my light, you'll barely see Alina's trick."

"Works perfectly for me, my little moon." he whispered against your ear. You tensed as you felt his soft lips on your earlobe.

Suddenly he leaned in, the tip of his nose tracing a path from your ear down your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he inhaled your perfume and those damn distracting lips slid from your ear to your neck.

He started placing small, wet kisses there. Your brain has melted. It stopped working while the general was kissing every sensitive spot on your neck. He read your body so damn well that if it weren't for his quick reflexes and his hand over your mouth, your loud, obscene groan would have echoed in the darkness of the ballroom.

You felt the light involuntarily escape from you and thanked all the saints that you lost control just as Alina finished her part.

You tried to push the shadow summoner away from you, but your attempts were so futile (and reluctant) that you quickly gave up, focusing on doing your job with his intoxicating mouth and roaming hands on you.

The son of a bitch was lucky to stay in the shadows, unseen by anyone but you.

You internally cursed yourself for how much easier it was to do the whole trick with him around.

To your great disappointment, he moved away from you just before the grand finale. You were panting, trying to calm your wildly beating heart, and breathing as the light began to take over the ballroom.

And those fucking dark eyes and smug smirk were the first damn thing you saw when you and Alina lit up the room.

People started applauding. Kirigan came up to you and grabbed your hand, and after Alina joined you, you bowed to everyone, gathering an ovation. You glanced briefly at Kirigan, who was staring at your neck. You just hoped he didn't leave a hickey in plain sight. But judging by the way his smirk widened and the way he ran away from you as soon as you were surrounded by a crowd of people, you assumed you had a new, not-so-visible yet bruise on your skin.

You'll kill him as soon as you get your hands on him.

~•♤♤♤•~

You stand in the darkness of his war room, waiting for him to finally appear. You played with the dagger in your hands, contemplating meeting Baghra. You felt something was wrong, something was missing. The woman's behaviour both helped you and, after the general's arrival, gave you a lot to think about. She was hiding something. But what?

you sighed. If only Aleksander was here. It would save you a lot of trouble. Among other things, intimidating his doppelgänger, who started to stick to you too much - much to your tacit approval.

But you were aware that this attraction was only due to his resemblance to your Aleksander. In a few decades, Kirigan will die too. And you will be completely alone again.

The sound of his boots hitting the floor snapped you out of your thoughts. You braced yourself for an attack and jumped on him just as he flanked the door and stepped inside. You pinned him against the wall with a dagger to his neck as he gave you a surprised, amused look.

"Hello, moonlight. Do you like the ball?"

"What the hell was that?!" you growled, pressing the blade against his skin as you made a small, harmless cut.

"You put a dagger to my neck far too often, darling." he noted, frowning as droplets of blood decorated the silver metal.

"Don't change the fucking subject! You have no damn right to act like this. Lay your hand on me like that again, and I'll make sure you don't have anything to summon your shadows with, general."

"So my lips on your incredibly alluring soft skin were no problem for you, my sweet moon?" he asked maliciously, raising an eyebrow. You growled, irritated by his arrogance. You guessed you preferred it when he responded to your attack with his own dagger.

"Do that again, and you won't live to see another moment to find out."

"You forget..." he mumbled, suddenly grabbing your hand holding the blade and wrapping his other around your neck. He pinned you against the wall, making sure there was no space between you two. "That you're not the only one with power here."

"You'd better let me go, little shadow, before you unleash hell you can't stop." you growled, summoning your light, which immediately met his shadows. You fought, jostling with your powers and staring hard into each other's eyes. You weren't going to lose this fight.

"You underestimate me, darling. I'm more than able to face any of your hell."

You didn't know why, but that sentence, the confidence in his eyes, the arrogance in his voice, and the same immense need that was hiding under both yours and his mask of restraint changed something between you two.

His already dark eyes were practically taken over by black pupils that stared at you lustfully. The intoxicating smell of his perfume, the warmth of his body, and those damn big, cool hands on your hot skin only made you accept your spur-of-the-moment decision.

With his hand still tightly wrapped around your neck, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.

You both groaned in unison. Your only consolation in this situation was that before your hands hooked on his strong arms, holding on tightly for fear your legs would give out, you could hear his dagger first drop to the marble floor, seconds before your blade.

You only broke apart for a moment before quickly removing the other's kefta and catching the other's lips again. You fought for control, biting into the other's lip every now and then, which only met with more resistance and the will to fight. Neither you nor he were made to lose.

At one point, he grabbed you by the waist, wrapping your legs around him as he carried you to the nearest flat surface—the war table. With one flick of his hand, he swept all the maps, papers, and other stuff off him onto the floor and practically threw you onto a wooden table.

You gasped in shock as your body suddenly hit the wood, which Kirigan quickly took advantage of. He dug into your mouth, his tongue grazing yours as he tried to dominate you once again.

You growled, grabbing the back of his black shirt and tearing the fabric to get to his skin, where you didn't hesitate to leave blood crescents in the shape of your fingernails.

He hissed away from your kiss-swollen lips and bit into the same damn spot on your neck where he had dared leave a hickey before.

Aleksander...

You froze. It wasn't Aleksander. It will never be your Aleksander again. No matter how damn similar they were.

Kirigan continued to kiss your neck when you finally decided, with a heavy heart, to push him away with a gentle kick.

You both stared at each other, gasping for breath. Kirigan took a hesitant step towards you and raised his hand to gently stroke your cheek. But you jumped off the war table before his skin could touch yours and start your kissing session all over again.

You had to escape from there. As soon as possible.

"I... I should go." you mumbled, shoving past him to pick up the kefta that had been thrown on the floor by him.

"Wait a second..." he followed you but stopped the moment his eyes met yours again. You both wanted each other. You were both held back by the very same thing that attracted you in the first place.

"We have a hard day tomorrow. Make sure Ivan wakes up Alina; she's not such an early riser after all." you mumbled in panic, backing towards the door.

"Melinoe." he tried to stop you, but your hand on the doorknob was faster. You opened the door, and without looking back, you threw over your shoulder:

"Good night, general."

You ran to your room, and before anyone could stop you, you shut the door. Tears began to flow freely from your eyes as you slid to the floor.

For a moment, a fleeting little moment, you were Y/N again. You were that 20-year-old girl kissing her husband again. But Kirigan could never be Aleksander. And even if you gave him your heart, he would shatter it to pieces over time when he, like other descendants of your Aleksander, reached old age. You were doomed to be lonely. But the fact that a person with eyes, a face, and a mind so like your husband was at your fingertips wasn't helpful to your already broken soul at all.

You just wanted to have your husband in your arms again. Was it so much for the saints to accomplish? You sobbed piteously until you fell asleep on the floor from exhaustion.

Little did you know that a few floors above you, someone was also mourning their dead significant other. And he also cursed fate for putting in his path a woman so similar to the one for whom he would give everything he held dear.

One thing was certain. The longer you stayed in the presence of the other, the more you lost your mind. But neither of you was ready to deprive yourself of the toxic pleasure of seeing the living face of your beloved, lost spouse.

~•♤♤♤•~

As planned, the next day you headed towards the border with Fjerdans. Neither you nor the general spoke to you most of the way, which Alina and Baghra noticed. Yes. Baghra went with you. The general was just as shocked as you, but surprisingly, he didn't argue with the woman about her unannounced presence.

The only thing you were afraid of during this trip was crossing the land where your village used to be. Aleksander's house and yours. It also didn't help that you were supposed to be there on the exact anniversary of his death - the creation of the fold.

You thought it would be easier for you to ride a horse through the only place where you were happy, but the wave of memories flooding you did not allow you to pass by indifferently.

"You'll never catch me!" you run away from him, laughing.

"If I catch you, the game will be over. But since you're insulting my capabilities…" you yelled as you ran away when Aleksander rushed to you.

You ran along the river, looking over your shoulder every now and then to make sure your boyfriend wasn't right behind you.

Suddenly, a cloud of shadows appeared in front of you, from which your Sasha came out and grabbed you by the waist. You thrashed in his embrace, causing you both to fall to the ground, laughing.

"Aleksander! You shouldn't use it in public!" you scolded him, punching him lightly in the chest.

"We are in the middle of the forest. There are only us and some animals."

"Still it is risky for you. Don't make me tell your mother about this."

"Could you please stop threatening me with my own mother?" he groaned, throwing you off him, to which you squealed indignantly. You stared with your daggers at the man lying before you with a mischievous smirk and an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Since I found out she likes me and trusts me more than you? No, it's too funny, my grumpy shadow-man." you laughed. You rolled your eyes as you watched his expression growl. You climbed on top of him and kissed the crease that had formed between his eyebrows from your comment. "I'm soooo sorry, Sasha. You know how much I love you, right? You're the most important person in my life, Aleksander Morozova."

"And you in mine, Y/N Y/L/N." he murmured, grabbing your cheek and pulling you into a sweet, slow kiss. You purred, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours - something you'll never get tired of. He pulled away from you far too quickly. He licked his lips, looking at you nervously. You raised an eyebrow, questioningly. "Y/N... can I ask you a question?"

"Right now? I thought you gonna kiss me a little longer, but if it's so important." he chuckled, shaking his head, as he leaned down to catch your lips in a kiss again.

"Happy, lapushka?"

"Not really, but I'll try to survive a few minutes without your lips on mine." he chuckled, but you knew from the features of his face and the gentle clasping of his shoulders that something was bothering him. You just hoped he wouldn't have to leave with his mother again... "What did you want to ask me?" Aleksander cleared his throat, taking your hands in his trembling.

"You know that I love you. I can't imagine how my life would have turned out if you hadn't put that dagger to my throat five years ago right here."

"I knew I recognized this place from somewhere." you cut him off, looking around the clearing. Aleksander laughed, catching your attention again as you blushed at how stupidly you interrupted him. But it seemed to help him relax, judging by the way his hand confidently reached out to cup your cheek.

"You make me laugh. Even on the darkest, worst of days. Just one look at those wonderfully beautiful eyes is enough to completely change my mood. One word from you and all my plans and beliefs fall into oblivion. You are the light in my darkness. The only good thing that happened to me. The only person who isn't afraid of what I can do. The only person who looks at me with such adoration despite my shadows."

"You know I love them. I love all of you, Sasha. Nothing will change that." you replied with tears in your eyes, suspecting what his confession would lead to.

"I know I have nothing worth you and that the life I can offer you is nothing compared to what you deserve, but you know me better than I know myself... I would go crazy if I wasn't the only man who has the privilege of seeing your face first thing every morning and falling asleep in the presence of your beauty. I'd go crazy if someone else could be called yours..." Aleksander took a simple gold ring with a small black gem from his pocket.

You gasped, knowing full well how much money he must have spent on even such a simple engagement ring. Baghra was supposed to skin your fiancé when she figured out what he wasted their money on.

"Sasha..." you whispered, crying, moving your gaze towards him.

"Y/N, kei onolich yash (will you marry me)? Will you be my wife?" too moved to answer him, you pulled him into a kiss. You both smiled like idiots. "I'm guessing it's yes then, but I'd rather hear it from you before I tell everyone else."

"Yes. Yes, I will marry you, you idiot. You didn't have to buy me a ring, Sasha. I would say yes without it."

"I wanted to make sure you wouldn't reject me." he replied with a mischievous smirk, putting it on your finger. You huffed and punched him lightly on the shoulder. The ring sparkled in the moonlight. Your face hurts from smiling. "I promise you, Y/N one day I'll give you the prettiest, flashiest ring in all of Ravka."

"And I will still prefer the one you gave me today." you replied without a second of hesitation, pulling your fiancé into another kiss.

The Kirgian ordered a stop, which everyone accepted with gratitude. And when others Grishas dispersed to their tasks, you decided to go to the place where your house and Aleksander's once stood.

Since you were already a stupid girl, as Baghra so nicely called you, this little trip shouldn't hurt you. You'd rather be stupid and crazy—completely mad from love—than ever forget about Aleksander and move on.

And that's how you got here. By the river, close to the place where you used to be the happiest in the world, and now you were shedding a sea of tears over the life you lost.

"I will build you a palace."

"What?" you asked, giggling as you looked away from the stars to your husband lying next to you on the grass.

Sensing the movement of your head, he turned around to look at you closely. You both loved nights like these. Your hands intertwined as you both lay on the ground looking at the stars and talking about your day, your plans, and your dreams. It was a sacred ritual between the two of you that you performed at least once a week.

"A palace. For you and our future children. A safe place where we can live with our little family."

"Sasha... I don't need a palace to feel safe with you. You are my shelter. My protector. What we have now is more than enough."

"That little hut where we barely fit in with our stuff, even though we don't have much anyway? NO. You deserve all the treasures of this world, Y/N" he murmured, stroking your cheek tenderly.

You sighed, pressing your cheek against his hand, enjoying every ounce of his attention. It's been getting more and more dangerous around here lately. You seldom had time to spend together; you were too busy with the Grisha needing your help. But you didn't mind. As long as Aleksander's eyes gave you that loving, adoring look at least once a day, you were ready to face anything to get back into his waiting arms.

"I already have one." he raised an eyebrow questioningly, looking at you in surprise. You just smiled, pulling him to you by the chin and connecting your lips in a kiss. Aleksander rolled over and hovered over you, not breaking your tender kiss. You placed your hands on his cheeks and gently pulled him away, looking into his eyes. No stars in the sky could match the brilliance of his dark irises. "You are my treasure. With you by my side I want nothing more. You're all I need to be happy, Sasha." you mumbled, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. Aleksander buried his face in your hands, closing his eyes for a moment and surrendering to this tender gesture.

"You deserve much more, milaya. And I promise, by all the saints and stars in the sky, I'll give you the world."

"Everything in time, Aleksander. Now, kiss your wife and show her how much you love her." you giggled as his long hair tickled your cheeks as he dutifully caught your lips in another sweet kiss.

"Was he really worth it?" Baghra's question cut through your sobs. You wiped your tears, not wanting to cry in front of her, and turned to face her. "Wouldn't you rather curse him for creating a fold and for leaving you than mourn the bastard that was my son? Y/N, child, you have eternity ahead of you. An eternity where you can be happy. Is Aleksander worth wasting it?" you laughed bitterly, knowing the answer to her question all too well. Nothing has changed over the centuries. And you knew nothing would change your feelings.

"You know very well that I will never know happiness again. Not without him. I've never done that in all these years."

"There had to be a moment. Even the smallest." she tried desperately to convince you. You dropped your head, remembering those few moments between you and Kirigan in Little Palace.

"There was. Next to a man who looked like him. But after a while, it dawned on me that he would never be Aleksander. Call me and think about me however you want. Pathetic child, crazy woman… But the truth is, I loved your son, Baghra, and I will always love only him. Our hearts were created by the saints as one and divided in two, placing one in Aleksander and the other in me. There is no one in the world I could love like him, with whom I could be truly happy. This type of love never dies, Baghra. Even separated by a grave."

"What if you got him back? If he was with you, but he wasn't the same man you remember?"

"It wouldn't matter. We are all changing. I know I would love him as much as I did then."

"I just hope you know what you want, child. And that maybe he'll go back to who he used to be because of you." she sighed, leaving you alone with your grief. You frowned, analysing her vague words.

It wasn't until it started to get dark that you got up from your knees and brushed the dirt off your clothes. You were about to leave when the crunch of branches caught your attention. A foolish hope rose in you and you lifted your head, only to meet your eyes with the Kirgian.

"General. I was just returning to camp." he nodded his head without a word.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turned to take one last look at what used to be your home. You sighed tremblingly as a lone tear rolled down your cheek.

And you whistled.

It was a fragment of an old Ravkan song about lovers returning home after a long journey to throw themselves into each other's arms, longing for separation. You and Aleksander adored it. And you decided that every time one of you left home, you would whistle that particular verse that stuck in your mind.

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

A cool breeze caressed your hot (from crying) skin. But the goosebumps that formed on your arms weren't from the cold at all.

"In the apple orchard stands the maiden fair and sings, When will you come home?"

You froze. Incapable of anything but breathing. You misheard. It's just one of your stupid fantasies, your mind playing tricks on you, or another cruel dream about how you got back the man you loved. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be real.

But the man holding your arm in a tight grip and turning you around to face him felt very real. AND ALIVE.

"Sasha?" you whispered tearfully, shaking all over, and if it wasn't for his strong grip on both of your arms, you probably would have fallen to your knees in front of him long ago, unable to do anything other than stare hopefully at the man in front of you.

Aleksander's heart shuddered and threatened to burst as the pet name, unused for hundreds of years, reached his ears. In an instant, you were on his chest as he hugged you with all his might. With your ear to his heart, you listened to his beating, and for the first time in hundreds of years, you cried WITH HAPPY.

"It's me, milaya. My sweet Y/N, my moon, my heart, my wife. It's me."

You heard him through a haze, too intent on his eyes to understand anything more from his speech. It was him. Your Aleksander. All this time. He was saying something to you, but you completely ignored him as something gold around his neck shimmered in the moonlight. You pulled the chain from under his jacket, sighing as you saw his wedding ring hanging securely on his necklace. A sob of disbelief escaped you. It was really him.

His hand cupping your cheek caused your watery gaze to shift back to those dark, beloved eyes.

"No more tears, milaya. You do not have to worry. From now on, I will never leave your side again. Not for a single bloody second."

And that was enough for you.

Grabbing his hair, you pulled him closer to you to feel his lips on yours as soon as possible. It wasn't one of those soft, gentle, unhurried kisses that lovers share after they meet after some separation.

It was intense, desperate, and needy, expressing your deadly longing for each other's lips through those painful years without each other. You didn't have the strength to hold back, to pretend you didn't miss that exact feeling all those lonely nights.

It didn't matter that your tears mixed and you could taste their salty taste on each other's lips. It didn't matter that your lungs were burning for air. It didn't matter that you had already fallen to your knees, too shaken by the feeling of the other's lips, but both of you longed too much for this closeness between you to deprive yourself of the warmth of the other's body even for a millisecond. It didn't matter if your lips were too swollen to decently go back to camp and pretend nothing had happened between you two.

You sincerely doubted that you would be able to take even a step towards the camp. Not after you trembled in Aleksander's lap as his hands caressed every inch of your skin.

But the moment came when you had to pull away from each other, cursing the need for air. You rested your forehead against his, inhaling his scent and clinging to his kefta to be as close to him as possible.

You both knew that there was no way you were going to be an arm's length away from each other. And you were seriously considering sticking with him permanently. His dark cloak looked big enough for you to hide under it too.

You couldn't believe your luck. He was here. With you. You had his arms around you again as you both clung desperately to each other.

Your Aleksander. Your husband. Your loved one. Your heart.

He had you again. His wife. His soulmate. His sanity. His equal. HIS EVERYTHING.

You wanted to pull away for a moment to look at his face again, but something tugged at your neck, bringing your head to Aleksander's shoulder. You looked down. Your necklaces are tangled.

"Seriously? It couldn't have happened a month ago?" you groaned as you tried to untangle your chains. You smiled, hearing how your husband laughed carelessly for the first time in centuries, since the day he lost you. "We'll never hear the end of it from Baghra, you know about it Sasha?" you asked, resting your forehead against his as you gave up on releasing the two of you. It didn't matter that everything was against you again. At least now you finally have Aleksander with you. YOUR real Aleksander.

"She had already called me a blind fool before she made me come here. I think we'll hear a lot from her about our stupidity." he murmured. You shivered as you felt his fingertips on your neck as he untied your intertwined necklaces effortlessly. He unclasped yours and, with great delicacy, placed the ring on your finger.

"Remind me to thank your mother for making you come here later." you replied, making sure his wedding ring was on his finger as well. Maybe you won't scare all the bitches away from him, but at least you'll make it clear that he belongs only to you. After hundreds of years without him, you have the right to be territorial.

"Later?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't think I'm going anywhere other than your tent and your bed right now, do you?"

"Our bed." he murmured before grabbing you in bridal style and heading for your tent. "By the way, I must commend you for how bravely you resisted the charms of someone who wasn't me. I barely managed to kiss you properly before you pushed me away."

"I don't know what I should do to you. Slap you for groping someone who had my face, or kiss you for only being attracted to my beauty."

"You have to admit, you didn't resist me much back then, my little saint." he murmured, kissing you again. He ran his hand through your hair, pulling you all the way onto him so he could feel your weight on him. You were with him. Body and soul. And it wasn't a dream. "Let's go to that tent before I have my way with you here and now." he muttered, getting up.

"Wait." you grabbed his hand. He turned to you, giving you a questioning look as he found you still kneeling on the grass. "Before we do anything. We both agree that we are not going to destroy the fold, right?"

Aleksander held his breath. He forgot how damn perfect you were. How you fit in and understood him in every way. And only the slight ounce of control he had left was keeping him from lunging at you right now as you kneeled in front of him with those beautiful, mesmerising eyes staring at him.

But after all, Aleksander was only human. A man whose cruel fate separated him from his beloved wife for many centuries…

He pulled you close to him in one swift motion. You crashed into his chest, completely unprepared for the sudden movement, but his intoxicating lips on yours compensated for your shock.

You moaned into his mouth as he pulled away from you so as not to lose his control completely.

"Saints, you have no idea how much I've missed you, my little moon."

"I'll take it as a yes." you replied, giggling as he put his arm around you. As you'd guessed, you fit perfectly with him under his cloak. You sighed, intoxicated by his scent.

"You know so well that I'll do anything for you. The fact that our plans coincide only proves that we belong to each other. And only to each other."

"Always, Sasha. I'm yours for eternity." you replied, smiling slightly as you turned to steal a glance at him.

"And I'm yours for the rest of our lives and beyond." he murmured, kissing your forehead.

You practically ran through the camp, ignoring Baghra's knowing, malicious look and the shocked expressions of Alina, Zoya, and Ivan (at which you giggled, causing Aleksander a small, tender smile) and Fedyor's smirk. You entered his tent, laughing as you started kissing while taking off each other's clothes.

"I hope you realize we don't leave this tent for at least a week?" he asked as he laid you down on the bed. However, the bastard didn't wait for your response, stealing a kiss from you.

"They'll be looking for you, Sasha." you mumbled between your kisses and grabbed his cheeks to make him focus on something other than your lips.

"What a pity I'll be too busy with my wife to notice anyone else but her." he lowered his head to your neck, making your hands tangle in his hair. You sighed, feeling his tongue on your skin just before he gently bit you.

"I thought we had a battle to win." he suddenly stopped all his movements. He intertwined your ringed hands and cupped your cheek with the other, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"My little moon, I'll postpone any goddamn war for you. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you and never will be." he promised, pressing his lips to yours.

You moaned, enjoying the long-forgotten feeling of his skin against yours as well as knowing that your love would never die.

[fictionalwh0ree]

Hi! May I please make a Billie request where Billie realizes she has a crush on her best friend and starts acting nervous and shy around her, and Billie decides to go live one day and fans are asking about reader since she's usually always around and Bil's like "guys she makes me nervous cause I think she's super pretty" and basically admits her crush? Thank you 🥹🤗

cocktail night- billie eilish

summary: you and billie became fast friends, but the celebrity lifestyle sometimes interferes with your plans. you two finally have a free night and decide to have a cocktail night. with alcohol flowing through her veins, billie can't help but confess her crush on you to the world.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: alcohol/drinking, mild swearing

billie eilish was easily your favourite person in the world. despite having met only eight months ago, you guys had developed a bond unlike any other, spending any free time either of you had with each other. you knew you could spend every waking moment with her, and if you could, you definitely would. however, the celebrity lifestyles often clashed and while there were weeks were you could spend every day with each other, there were times where weeks would go by and you wouldn’t see each other. now was one of those dry spells where you hadn’t seen each other in about two weeks. you planned a little cocktail night together when you were both free. the idea had been your suggestion as the last couple of times you had seen your best friend, she had been acting strange. she was flustered and more quiet than usual. you blew it off as some weird way of coping with the stress and work that goes into writing and producing a new album, but thought that a couple cocktails might help loosen her up a little bit.

finally, the night arrived. you unlocked her door with the spare key she had given you and were immediately greeted by shark, who barked excitedly at seeing you. you bent down to pet him as billie ran down the stairs to meet you. with almost as much excitement as her puppy, she wrapped her arms around you in a hug while a large smile adorned her face. once she pulled away, you followed her to the kitchen.

“soooo, whats new?” she asked you.

“billie, we were on call just before i left the house,” you laughed before stuffing a couple chips in your mouth.

“but actually, this guy cut me off when i was driving and the guy behind me honked at me. i was so annoyed. the only thing that got me through the drive was reminding myself i would be drinking soon,” you vented.

“the thought of seeing me wasn’t enough to get you through the drive?” she joked, placing her hands over her heart dramatically.

“nope,” you smiled.

she kissed her teeth and looked away in fake annoyance, but the large smile on her face gave it away. she looked back over at you, your eyes locking, but only for a moment before hers dropped to the ground.

“i did miss you though, for real,” you affirmed.

“i missed you too,” she said.

“stop being so busy all the time,” billie joked.

“says you,” you laughed.

“you know, i think it would save you a lot of time if you had a muse to write about,” you joked, snagging a couple more chips.

“oh really? and who should my muse be?” she said, raising her eyebrow.

“me, duh,” you smiled.

“you’re already my muse,” she said, sending an exaggerated wink your way.

“aww, shut the fuck up,” you said, shoving her playfully.

“okay, come on lets get to drinking,” billie said, switching the subject.

you nodded in accordance and the two of you worked together, gathering everything you would need. as you prepared your cocktails, you downed a couple of shots each, leaving your prepared drinks, which were supposed to be somewhat aesthetic, a very ugly and delicious hot mess. you took your drinks into the living room and billie put on a movie. the two of you were already tipsy before having even taken a sip of your cocktail, and the movie had become background noise amongst your lively conversation.

before long, the two of you decided it was time to change into something more comfortable. thankfully, you had come prepared with matching christmas pj pants which you had bought earlier in the day. you told her to stay in her place, and she waited eagerly for you as you retrieved your bag. you pulled them out with a ‘ta da.’ she matched your energy, shrieking in excitement. she ran upstairs to get changed and as did you. once you were ready, you met her back in the living room, about to sit on the couch before the alcohol finally got to your bladder.

“i’m gonna go use the washroom quickly,” you told her.

she nodded, fidgeting with her phone. little did you know, she was going on live. the alcohol in her system making it seem like a good way to share your matching pyjama pants. she turned it on and within seconds, hundreds of thousands of people had joined. her live had just barely caught the end of your sentence, leading her fans to question where you were. the comments became flooded with comments along the lines of “is that y/n?” and “where’s y/n?”.

“yes guys, it is y/n,” billie smiled, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks as she slurred her words slightly.

“i came on here to show you guys our matching pj pants but she went to the washroom,” she continued.

her fans quickly picked up on the fact that she had been drinking and they had noticed the blush that got stronger with your mention.

“ouuuu she’s blushing,” one comment said.

“her cheeks r so red rn,” another one read.

“guyssss,” billie whined.

“who’s got you blushing like that 👀 👀” someone commented.

billie read it, mumbling the words slightly, before giggling.

“guys if i tell you this you can’t tell anyone okay?” she smiled, multiple fans agreeing and promising.

“y/n makes me nervous cause i think she's super pretty,” she confessed, giggling like a schoolgirl and throwing her phone. she shrieked into a nearby pillow, not fully recognizing what she had done. she picked up her phone hastily when she heard the bathroom door open. the comments were flooded with excitement and support from her fans, and of course, a lot of teasing as well.

“shhhhh, she’s coming back. remember the promise,” she said, turning back to see you a couple feet from the couch.

“what’re you up to?” you said skeptically.

“nothing,” she said innocently, widening her eyes at the camera to remind them to stay quiet.

“uh huh,” you laughed.

“i went on live to show everyone our matching pyjamas,” she said.

“well show them then,” you said.

she set her phone down against her empty cocktail glass and got up, standing next to you.

the two of you backed up until the camera captured you two fully donning your matching pants and white tank tops. she ran back to her phone and sat on the couch.

“why are you acting funny?” you smiled at her, tilting your head.

“i’m not,” she laughed.

“okay billie,” you laughed back.

you sat down next to her, setting your head down on her shoulder, causing her to blush again.

“my parents 😫😫😫,” someone commented.

“this is too cute,” another one read.

“billie u need to tell her,” one said.

“what’s up with your comments?” you asked billie, looking up at her.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, looking away.

you shook your head and looked back at the screen.

“billie said you made her nervous because she thinks you’re REALLY pretty,” a comment read.

you barely caught it as billie pulled the phone up above your face.

“you guys are snitches byeee” she said, ending the live hastily.

you sat up straight, looking at her in the eyes.

“i caught that, y’know?” you said.

“they weren’t supposed to say anything,” billie mumbled, a shy smile playing on her lips as her eyes locked on the couch cushion below her.

you laughed softly.

“so whats this about?” you asked gently, trying to coax her attention back to you.

“you read the comment,” she said, voice just above a whisper.

“say it,” you said, lifting her chin with your fingers, “tell me.”

she took a moment to meet your eyes, your faces now only inches apart as you leaned forward.

“i think you’re really pretty,” she whispered, “and i think i might like you, in more than a friend way.”

you finally leaned forward, linking your lips in a tender kiss. she leaned towards you and you leaned back until you were barely upright against the armrest. she pulled away for a moment, looking at you with a cheesy smile.

“you’re so stupid, y’know that?”

[scarletwinterxx]

I know u don’t just write dad scenarios but if u could write a jaehyun or haechan husband scenario…. 😍😍

a/n: hellooo ~ first im soooo sorry this took so long. I am now just checking my other drafts and saw this. Hope this makes up for the wait. yes I'm in my haechan soft hours🥺🤍

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025. Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

Haechan was already under the covers, eyes closed, breathing steady, when you suddenly crawled into bed beside him.

You hesitated for a moment before blurting out, "Do you even like me?"

He didn’t move at first, just a long pause of silence. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he cracked open one eye and lazily lifted his hand, fingers wiggling to make his wedding band glint under the dim bedroom light.

"We’re married," he said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You huffed, crossing your arms. "That’s not an answer."

He finally opened both eyes, turning onto his side to look at you properly. "Babe," he drawled, voice thick with sleep, "I literally stood in front of all our family and friends, cried like a baby, and vowed to spend the rest of my life with you. I think that’s a *pretty* strong sign that I like you."

You bit your lip, feeling warm at the memory, but still, you refused to back down. "Yeah, but maybe you just tolerate me."

Haechan let out a deep groan, flopping onto his back dramatically. "Oh my god. You’re impossible."

You waited, staring at him expectantly, and finally, he rolled back toward you, his expression softening. His fingers reached out to toy with your own wedding band. "Hey," he murmured, voice quieter now. "I don’t just *like* you. I adore you. You’re my best friend. My favorite person. And my *wife.*"

Your heart did a little flip, but you stayed quiet, enjoying the way he traced circles on the back of your hand.

Then, of course, because he’s Haechan, he smirked. "But if you need more proof, I guess I could divorce you and date you again. Just to make it super clear."

You smacked his arm, and he cackled, pulling you into his chest before you could roll away. "Nope, too late," he mumbled against your hair, wrapping his arms around you. "You married me. You’re stuck with me forever."

You sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but your smile gave you away. "Lucky me."

"Damn right," he muttered sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead. "Now, go to sleep, Mrs. Lee. We can talk about how much I like you in the morning."

And with that, he pulled you even closer, warm and safe in his arms, as if to prove his point without words.

The next day he goes to work before you're even awake. The feeling of a soft peck on your lips and a quiet mumble of I Love You was the earliest thing you can remember from today.

You didn't do anything out of the ordinary, cleaned around the house. Worked on some emails and arranged your errands for the next week. Washed a few dishes and laundry then the next thing you know it's evening.

The sun was already setting when Haechan returned home, his bag slung over his shoulder and a cheeky grin on his face.

He immediately noticed you pacing around the living room, muttering to yourself as you frantically checked under cushions, behind furniture, and even inside the fridge.

"Okay, if it’s not here, where else could it be?" you whispered, hands on your hips as you scanned the room.

Haechan leaned against the doorframe, watching you with barely-contained amusement. He had been waiting for this moment all day. When he found your engagement and wedding rings sitting innocently on the counter this morning, he knew you’d notice eventually. What he didn’t expect was how long it would take you.

He cleared his throat, making you jump slightly before spinning around to face him. "Hey, babe," he greeted casually, his voice laced with playful mischief

"You're back!" you exclaimed, trying to mask your panic with a too-bright smile. "How was work?"

"Same old, same old," he replied, shrugging. "But, uh, you seem... busy. Looking for something?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. "Nope. Just... tidying up a bit."

Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He took a few steps closer, his grin widening. "Really? Because you seem a little... frazzled. Almost like you lost something important."

Your eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. "What makes you say that?"

He tilted his head, reaching into his pocket. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how you once said you'd never take these off."

Your breath hitched as he held up your engagement and wedding rings, the delicate bands glinting under the light. Relief flooded your face, quickly replaced by a mix of guilt and annoyance

"Haechan!" you groaned, rushing toward him to snatch the rings from his hand, but he pulled them back just out of reach.

"Ah-ah," he teased, holding them up high. "Care to explain why they were sitting on the counter? I thought they were, and I quote, ‘a symbol of our eternal love and commitment.’" He even threw in air quotes for dramatic effect.

You sighed, crossing your arms. "I took them off when I was washing dishes this morning, and I guess I forgot to put them back on.

He gasped, feigning hurt. "Forgot? Wow. I see how it is. One year of marriage, and you’re already leaving our eternal love by the sink like it’s some cheap trinket."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. "Okay, drama king. I was going to put them back on, but someone decided to steal them."

"Steal? Babe, I saved them," he corrected, placing a hand over his heart. "What if they had fallen into the garbage disposal? Or worse, what if they got lost forever? I’m a hero, really."

You gave him a look, but your lips twitched with amusement. "Fine. You’re a hero. Now, can I please have my rings back?"

He grinned, finally holding them out to you. But as you reached for them, he grabbed your hand instead, slipping the rings back onto your finger himself. His expression softened, and for a moment, the teasing vanished.

"There," he said quietly, his thumb brushing over the bands. "Right where they belong."

Your chest warmed at his tenderness, and you smiled up at him. "Thanks, Haechan."

"Anytime," he replied, his cheeky grin returning. "Just don’t let it happen again, or I might have to start charging you a rescue fee."

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned up to kiss his cheek. Life with Haechan was never boring, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[frvnkcastles]

SET MY WORLD ON FIRE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You struggle with sex because of pain but want to give it a try with Frank.

Warnings: Female reader, feminine nicknames, light smut

Word count: 1.6k

Author’s note: Soooo I’m back with another PTSD related fic. I rarely write smut anymore but I wanted to do something like this because surprise surprise, it’s something I deal with. I suffer from chronic pain called vulvodynia, which is kinda similar to vaginismus I guess, and it makes having sex very painful or even impossible. There isn’t a lot of information about it available but I’m pretty sure it can be connected to (C-)PTSD or trauma in general (also other anxiety disorders). And I just think Frank would be so understanding and a safe person to try new things with. That’s all, thank you for reading <3

Your breathing was heavy as you rested on your back, your eyes locked with Frank’s as he hovered above you on the bed, and your fingers running through the coarse hairs on the back of his head. The air was tense and there was a ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach, but deep down, you were excited, too. And most importantly, you trusted Frank. You knew that the moment would be over with your say-so, and he’d be off of your body within seconds, but so far, you were willing to push your limits.

”Gorgeous girl”, he muttered while caressing your cheek and traveling down to grip your jaw softly, just enough to tilt your head up so he could lean down to kiss your neck. His lips left a trail of goosebumps and you closed your eyes to fully revel in the feeling, your arms hanging around his neck and your legs around his hips.

His name escaped your lips and you could feel his mouth curling up into a smile against your skin. ”Yeah, sweetheart?” he rasped, lifting his head from the crook of your neck so he could look at you. He took in the sight of you, eyes squeezed shut and a mixture of pleasure and anxiety twisting your features. ”Hey, look at me”, he demanded gently, and licking your lips, you met his gaze only to feel even more vulnerable under the intensity of it.

”Y’know nothin’ happens without your permission, yeah? ’M just here to go at your pace. You got nothin’ to worry about, I promise”, he explained, tilting his head at you, and slowly, you managed a nod.

You had wanted this for a long time. You had wanted him for a long time. But no matter how strong that desire in you grew, you knew that your body wasn’t on the same page with you, that regardless of your feelings, it would hurt. And when you had told Frank as much, he had sworn to be gentle with you, to proceed as slowly as you needed him to, with promises of being honored you’d trust him with it.

”Breathe for me, pretty girl”, he encouraged, and swallowing, you inhaled deeply through your nose, and following his example, you exhaled through your mouth. ”There ya go”, he smiled at you before biting his lip and deciding to dip a toe in the waters. ”Can I touch you?”

Your breath got stuck in your throat, but once again, you nodded. ”Yes, please”, you requested quietly, and satisfied, Frank let his hands venture across your body. You were already reduced to just your underwear, making it easy for his thick fingers to graze against your skin and glide down between your legs. He was careful, but you still tensed up, and he could immediately tell. You stared at the ceiling and tried to keep your breathing balanced, but you were scared.

”Want me to stop?” Frank asked, but despite the fear bubbling in your chest, you immediately shook your head.

”I want to feel you”, you admitted, and chuckling softly, Frank nodded.

He tried his best to be gentle, but you still gasped sharply at the feeling of his finger prodding, and Frank’s chest ached at the idea of causing you any pain. Nevertheless, when you didn’t tell him to stop, he pushed further, and somewhere within his movements, the initial pain melted into a warm, pleasant feeling.

”This okay?” he whispered, peppering your face with kisses as he moved his hand back and forth, and nodding rapidly, you clamped your hand over your mouth to stifle any stray moans about to slip out. Frank noticed in an instant and with his free hand wrangled your palm away from your face, wanting to hear everything.

”It’s good. It’s really good”, you breathed out, and with a crooked smile, Frank leaned his forehead against yours and kissed the air out of your lungs. His lips were like magic, just like his fingers, and the combined sensation of the two had you seeing stars, speechless as you writhed under the weight of his body.

Before you could reach your climax, though, Frank withdrew his hand from you, and when you whined at the loss, his grin widened. ”Shh, sh, it’s okay. Be patient f’me, baby”, he reassured before wetting his lips and looking down at where your bodies were about to connect.

”We’ll take it slow, yeah? I got you, sweetheart. Tell me to stop and I will”, he promised you, and with an impatient nod, you agreed to his words. It was a terrible mix to be both needy and scared, to want him more than anything in the world but dread that you wouldn’t be able to go through it. But Frank was endlessly patient with you, and like he had sworn, his movements were languid and careful.

The grunt that rose from his throat when he entered you made you want to keep going. You would have done anything for him in that moment. The exertion of being slow was obvious on his creased forehead, but he didn’t break his promise — he slid in slowly, pausing as soon as you sucked in a pained breath.

”Hurts”, you croaked out, wringing your eyes shut, and immediately jumping to action, Frank smoothed the lines in the corners of your eyes.

”Hey, hey, don’t worry. I ain’t movin’ ’til you tell me to, aight?” Frank whispered, and with a gulp, you nodded.

”Maybe… maybe if you… make small movements back and forth”, you proposed, and humming in response, Frank kissed your forehead.

”You know what to do if it ain’t feelin’ right”, he noted before inching his hips forward just the slightest, then pulling back and repeating the motion. It was an attempt to get you used to him, and it had you huffing and puffing with the hopes of remembering to breathe through it, but it didn’t seem like the pain was going anywhere.

”This would be a lot easier if you were… smaller”, you pointed out with a wry smile, earning a snort from Frank.

”Wanna stop?” he asked again, but you shook your head.

”I think I can take a little more”, you said hopefully, and with concern shining in his eyes, Frank nodded reluctantly and made a firmer thrust, only for you to immediately regret it.

Your hands flew to his chest to push him away, and reacting quickly, Frank pulled out and watched the ache bloom on your face. With a frustrated huff, you ran a palm across your features, and as Frank got off of you and knelt on the bed, you sat up, as well.

”You okay, sweetheart? Shit, I shoulda— I didn’t wanna hurt ya”, he stammered, hands hovering over you, not sure if it was okay to touch you.

Pursing your lips in a sad smile, you took his hand and squeezed. ”I’m okay. It’s not your fault”, you told him quietly. Nonetheless, regret blossomed in Frank’s chest as he watched you curl up and wrap your arms around your knees bashfully. But when he saw the look on your face, he knew you were feeling much worse than he was.

”Hey, it ain’t your fault either, ya know that, right?” he spoke up, tilting his head down to catch your gaze, which you expertly avoided. Frustrated tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you were quick to wipe them away.

”I guess”, you shrugged. ”It just doesn’t seem fair to you. To—to get you all worked up, and then I can’t even—I can’t—”, you tried to explain, but Frank hastily shot down your anxieties.

”You don’t owe me anythin’. Just ’cause you make me turned on, and trust me, you really do, I don’t expect you to do anythin’ ’bout it. It ain’t fun for me if it ain’t fun for you”, he stated matter-of-factly, his fingertips caressing your arm as he sat closer to you.

”I guess we can always do other stuff”, you tried to see the positive in the situation, and with an encouraging smile, Frank opened his arms for you, and you didn’t hesitate to crawl into the welcoming embrace.

”That’s right, sweetheart. I’m happy to use my fingers if that felt good. Would love to get my mouth on you”, he whispered into your ear, and with blush creeping to your cheeks, you covered your face with both hands and giggled. ”And if you ever wanna do the same for me, that’s more than enough. Or if you want to try this again some other time, I’m okay with exploring. There’s no pressure”, Frank went on, and with a genuine smile, you gave him a grateful look.

”Sorry for ruining the mood. I really do want you, you know”, you wanted him to know, and with half a smile, Frank kissed you.

”Don’t be sorry, sweet girl. I know”, he sighed, his hand caressing your hair tenderly. ”How ’bout we order some food and maybe you’ll feel better?” he proposed then, and full of adoration for the man and all his patience and understanding.

”Thank you, Frankie.”

The guilt in you began to dissipate eventually, and underneath all the frustration, you felt lucky to have someone like Frank. Someone who you could trust to take care of you, someone who was okay with taking things slow. It hadn’t always been the case with other men, but with Frank, you felt safe. You felt like it would be okay, regardless of the outcome.