#it ended so good but it still had so much life left in it

[4linos]

he’s jealous of another member

ot8 x fem!reader

warnings: angstyy, jealousy, feeling insecure/unworthy, arguing, fluff for some members (:

wc: 10,081

(my special thank you post for 1,000 followers 💞🥹. thank you everyone for following my silly little blog.)

bang chan

The days had blended together. You'd been patient with Chan, as always. Your relationship was strong and quiet, built on mutual understanding and respect. He had work, music, and responsibilities, while you had your own life and routines. You didn't always demand his attention, even when it felt like you were getting the short end of the stick.

But today... today was different.

You’d been waiting for hours.

You knocked on Chan’s door, expecting him to take a break from his work, just for a while. “Hey, you got time to hang out for a bit?” you’d asked, trying to sound casual. He had responded with the usual half-hearted, distracted “in a few minutes,” which was his go-to response when he was buried in his work.

You didn’t mind at first. After all, you knew how much his music meant to him, and you never wanted to be the one to pull him away from something he loved. You could wait. You were patient. But as the minutes dragged into hours, you started to feel a pang of loneliness settle in. He was so absorbed in his work, so consumed by his passion, that you felt like an afterthought. The more you waited, the more the ache in your chest grew.

It wasn’t just that you wanted to spend time with him. You needed to. You had been there for him through everything, supportive and understanding, even when it felt like he wasn’t really noticing. But this? This was starting to hurt.

You were about to go stir-crazy from just sitting there, when Felix called. You answered, needing a distraction, needing something to break the silence and the isolation you were feeling in Chan’s dorm. “Hey, you wanna come hang out at my dorm? We’re just chilling here, nothing special, but it could be fun.”

You hesitated for only a moment before deciding. You hadn’t heard from Chan for hours, and it seemed like he wasn’t even aware of how long you’d been waiting for his attention. You figured it was better to get out, spend time with friends, rather than sit around in silence, feeling invisible.

You didn’t tell Chan where you were going. It wasn’t intentional; you didn’t mean to leave him hanging or make him feel like you were punishing him. You just... left. You weren’t sure if you were doing it to get back at him or because you just needed some company, but whatever the reason, it didn’t seem to matter.

Hours passed, and you had a good time with Felix. He made you laugh, distracted you from the nagging feeling of being ignored, of being forgotten. The night was lighthearted, carefree, and for a while, it felt like everything was fine. But the weight of your silence with Chan was still there, hanging over you. You couldn’t help but feel like you were drifting further from him with each passing minute.

It wasn’t until you got a text from Jeongin asking if you were still at Felix’s that you realized how much time had gone by. You stood up, saying your goodbyes to Felix, who gave you a warm hug and made you promise to hang out again soon. You needed to get back to Chan, to try and make things right.

But when you walked back into the dorm, the sight of Chan standing there fuming, his face twisted with frustration was the last thing you expected.

His voice, cold and sharp, broke the silence.

“So, you have a type then?” His words were laced with bitterness, his gaze a mix of hurt and anger. “When one Aussie won’t give you attention, you run to another?”

You froze, your stomach sinking as his words hit like a slap to the face. He wasn’t even looking at you anymore his eyes were fixed on Felix, who was standing nearby, his hands still wet from doing dishes. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension.

You opened your mouth to explain, but before you could say anything, Felix was the first to speak, his voice defensive. “Chan, that was a low blow. You can’t just accuse her like that. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

You turned to Chan, feeling the sting of his words. “I asked for your attention hours ago,” you said, your voice quiet, hurt. “I didn’t want to spend the night alone. I wanted to hang out with you. But you didn’t notice, and I waited. I waited for you... and then Felix invited me to hang out, so I went. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Chan looked stunned for a moment, as if the reality of what you were saying hadn’t fully hit him. But his face hardened again as he glanced at Felix, and his tone grew more cutting. “Yeah, because clearly, Felix is more fun than I am. You didn’t even think to tell me where you were going, did you? Just run off whenever you feel like it.”

Your heart broke at the accusation. It wasn’t what you had done it was how he had twisted it, as if you had done something wrong. You hadn’t even thought about how hurtful it would be to him; you just wanted to feel seen.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Chan. I’m just... I’m tired of always waiting around. I wanted to spend time with you, and I waited. But you were too busy, and I didn’t want to keep sitting there. I’m not asking for much, I just... I wanted to be with you.”

Felix, who had been standing there, quietly watching the exchange, spoke up again, his voice softer now, understanding. “Chan, you can’t expect her to just wait around forever. She has her own life, her own needs. You can’t keep pushing her away and expect her to always be there when you decide you’re ready to give her attention.”

The silence that followed felt like it lasted an eternity. Chan didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were distant, his jaw clenched as he tried to process everything you were saying.

You could see the guilt settling on his face now, but it wasn’t enough to erase the hurt that had built up between you two. His jealousy, his need to control, had taken over, and now it was too late. You weren’t sure if he could fix this.

“I’m sorry,” he finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away. I’ve just been so focused on everything else that I... I didn’t see you were hurting.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “It’s not just about that, Chan. It’s about how you’ve been treating me, how you’ve been ignoring me. I’m not a backup plan, I’m not someone you only pay attention to when it’s convenient for you.”

Felix gave you a sad look before stepping away, sensing the gravity of the moment. You could feel the weight of Chan’s gaze on you, and it felt like the distance between you two had never been wider. You wanted to walk up to him, hold him, tell him it was okay, but you didn’t know if it would be okay anymore. His words, his jealousy, had created a rift that was hard to bridge.

With one final, shaky breath, you turned toward the door. “Thank you, Felix,” you said quietly, before walking out of the dorm without looking back at Chan.

You didn’t know where this left you or if things could ever go back to the way they were. But one thing was clear: you weren’t sure you could keep waiting around for someone who didn’t notice when you needed them the most.

lee know

It had been a typical evening at the studio with the rest of the group after practice. The energy was light, filled with laughter and chatter, and you were enjoying spending time with everyone. You had gotten close to each of the guys over the past few months, but one person who had always been like an older brother to you was Chan. He was caring, protective, and someone you’d grown to trust, almost like family.

Tonight, though, there was an innocent interaction that would shift the dynamic of your relationship with Minho, your boyfriend.

As you and the rest of the group were gathered in the lounge area, Chan approached you, holding his phone in his hand. “Hey, I want to show you this hilarious video,” he said, excited to share something with you. You nodded enthusiastically, eager to watch. But as you looked around, you realized there were no free chairs left, and the couch was already filled with the others.

Chan, ever the easygoing person, raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Well, I guess you’ll just sit on my lap then, since there’s no room anywhere else.”

You laughed, thinking it was just a joke. After all, you had known Chan for so long, and you had always viewed him as a brother figure. You didn’t think twice about it. “Sure, whatever,” you said casually, and you plopped yourself down on his lap, he held his phone in front of you so you could watch together.

You two watched the video together, laughing and chatting, with no intention of doing anything more. You had no idea how it would be received by someone else, especially Minho. You felt at ease around Chan, as you always had, but you couldn't shake the sense that someone else wasn't as comfortable.

Minho, sitting across the room, had been watching you with Chan for a while. His gaze hardened as he saw you and Chan laughing together. The sight of you sitting so naturally on his lap, your faces so close, set something off inside him. His stomach twisted with an unfamiliar feeling that slowly morphed into frustration.

He couldn’t quite put it into words, but as the minutes passed, that frustration grew. It was just so easy for you and Chan. So effortless. You were laughing with him, sharing moments that felt too intimate for his liking. Minho’s fists clenched at his sides as he watched you, jealousy bubbling up inside him. Even though he trusted you, there was something about seeing you with Chan in that moment that made him feel small, like maybe he wasn’t enough.

And when Chan stood up, still joking about the video, and said, “Alright, I’m heading out, see you guys later,” Minho’s eyes narrowed as he watched you stand up to give Chan a hug goodbye.

You wrapped your arms around Chan, giving him a quick, friendly embrace. “Bye, Chan! See you soon!” you said, not thinking anything of it. It was a natural, casual gesture between two friends who had known each other for years. But as Minho watched, the knot in his stomach tightened. The way you hugged him, so easily, so comfortably, it felt like a small betrayal. Not because you had done anything wrong, but because he had let his insecurities get the better of him.

You pulled away from the hug, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. Minho wasn’t looking at you anymore. His eyes were distant, his expression unreadable. He was avoiding you, and his silence spoke volumes.

The rest of the evening passed in an uncomfortable silence between you and Minho. He barely spoke to you, his responses clipped and snippy whenever you tried to engage with him. You could feel the tension in the air, but you didn’t know what had triggered it. What was wrong?

As the night went on, you couldn’t take it any longer. You needed to know what was bothering him, and you weren’t going to let it slide. You found him sitting by himself in the corner of the room, scrolling through his phone, his back to you.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of how to approach him, but then you took a deep breath and walked over. “Minho,” you called gently, your voice laced with concern. He didn’t look up at first, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “What’s going on with you? You’ve barely said a word to me tonight.”

Minho’s jaw tightened as he glanced up at you, his eyes betraying the anger and hurt he was feeling. “Nothing,” he muttered, looking back down at his phone. “Just tired.”

You weren’t buying it. “Minho, I know something’s bothering you. I’m not stupid. You’ve been giving me one-word answers all night. What’s going on?”

He stayed silent for a few moments, before finally putting his phone down and turning his body to face you. His expression was cold, but his voice had a sharp edge to it. “You know exactly what’s bothering me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Minho’s voice was almost bitter now. “It’s Chan. It’s always Chan.” He paused, his frustration seeping through. “The way you were sitting on his lap, the way you hugged him goodbye like it was nothing... Do you not see how that makes me feel?”

You froze for a moment, surprised by the intensity of his feelings. “Minho… It’s not like that. Chan’s like an older brother to me. He’s been a part of my life for so long, and you know that. There’s nothing between us.”

Minho’s expression softened slightly, but there was still that underlying hurt. “I get that,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “But it still bothers me. I don’t like seeing you so comfortable with him like that. I don’t like feeling like I’m not enough.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You had never seen Minho so vulnerable, so insecure. You stepped closer to him, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Minho, you are enough. You’re everything to me. I love you, and I don’t want you to feel like that.”

Minho’s eyes flickered with something uncertain. “But what about Chan? What if you feel something for him that you don’t feel for me?”

You shook your head quickly, your heart aching for him. “No, Minho. You’re my one and only love. I could never feel that way about Chan. You’re the one I’m with. The one I want.”

He was silent for a moment, clearly processing your words. Finally, his lips curved into a teasing grin, and he leaned forward slightly. “Really?” he said, his tone lightening. “You’re sure my legs are stronger than his? You think I’m the one for you?”

You blinked in confusion, a little caught off guard by the shift in his mood. “What? Minho, what are you talking about?”

He chuckled lowly, his eyes mischievous now. “Well, you didn’t seem to think my legs were stronger when you were sitting on Chan’s lap. I mean, his legs must be stronger, right?”

You were immediately flustered, and before you could protest, Minho leaned in even closer, his teasing smile growing. “You’re not getting away that easily. Admit it. You think Chan has the stronger legs.”

You were caught off guard, your cheeks flushing at the playful teasing. “Minho, that’s not—” you stammered, trying to get a word in, but Minho’s arms circled around you, pulling you in tighter as he continued to mess with you.

“Come on, just admit it!” he teased, his hands tickling your sides lightly.

You laughed, wriggling to get free from his grip. “Okay, okay! You’re stronger, Minho! Your legs are stronger!” You finally confessed, laughing breathlessly as Minho pulled away, satisfied with your answer.

“Good,” he said smugly, resting his forehead against yours. “Now you know who’s got the stronger legs.” His eyes softened, and the teasing melted away as he cupped your face in his hands. “And I know I’m the one you love.”

You smiled up at him, your heart finally at ease. “You’re my biggest one and only love, Minho. Always.”

The tension from earlier was gone now, replaced with the comfort of knowing you had both worked through the misunderstandings. Minho’s jealousy had been born from his own insecurities, but after talking it through, you had reassured him that he was your one and only. And now, with the teasing and the laughter, everything felt right again.

It was just another test of trust in your relationship, one that had only made you stronger together.

changbin

The evening was supposed to be casual a simple hangout with Minho. You, Minho, and a few others were grabbing dinner, nothing out of the ordinary. Ever since Changbin introduced you to the group, you’d grown especially close to Minho. His dry wit, his easy-going nature, and the way he always made you feel at ease had led to a friendship that felt natural, comfortable. Changbin didn’t seem to mind at first, and you knew that he trusted you at least, you thought he did.

But when you told him you’d be spending time with Minho tonight, something in Changbin snapped. His face twisted with frustration, his brows furrowing in a way you hadn’t seen in months. He mumbled something about being "fine" but the words didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t just the tone, it was the way he had turned away so quickly, his back rigid, his jaw clenched. You didn’t think much of it at the time, maybe he was just tired from work or stressed about something. But as the night wore on, the silence between you two grew heavy.

By the time you got back home, you were expecting a quick check-in, maybe a few playful words about how the dinner went. Instead, Changbin was pacing around your apartment, his expression hard and his eyes sharp. He didn’t even greet you, just asked coldly, “How was dinner with Minho?”

You froze for a second, sensing that something was off. “It was fine,” you said, trying to sound casual as you took off your shoes. “We had some good food. Why?”

His eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze making you uncomfortable. “You really seem to enjoy spending time with him, don’t you?” There was an edge to his voice now, one that made your stomach tighten with unease.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, laughing nervously, but Changbin didn’t return the smile. He took a step closer, his gaze intense, almost accusing.

“I’m talking about how you act around him,” he spat, his voice rising, and the frustration in his tone grew louder. “You always look so… happy when he’s around. But when I’m with you, it’s like I’m just some placeholder. Is that it? Are you really that close with him? Have I been fooling myself?”

You tried to hold back your shock, but the words hit you harder than you expected. “What? Changbin, that’s not—”

“No, no,” he cut you off, shaking his head as his anger surged. “Don’t act like I’m imagining things. You’re closer to Minho than you are to me. I see the way you look at him. It’s like he’s the only one who gets you.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and you saw the raw vulnerability beneath his anger. He was hurt, and the jealousy gnawing at him was consuming him in a way you didn’t understand.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you tried to reason, your voice trembling now. “Minho is my friend. I’m not doing anything wrong.” You took a cautious step toward him, but he backed away, the space between you two feeling heavier than ever.

“You’re not ‘doing anything wrong’?” His voice was low now, tight with barely controlled rage. “I don’t know what’s worse, watching you laugh and joke around with him while I stand on the sidelines, or seeing you act like everything’s fine when I’m the one here, trying to hold this relationship together. I’m not good enough for you anymore, huh? I’m not the one who makes you happy. He is.”

You could see the pain in his eyes, the anguish behind the jealousy, and for a moment, your heart broke. But it wasn’t just the words. It was how they felt like a blow to your chest. You didn’t want to hurt him, you never did. But the situation felt impossible.

“Changbin, that’s not fair,” you said softly, your voice shaking. “Minho is my friend, and you’re my boyfriend. I care about both of you, but in different ways. You’re the one I’m with, Changbin. Why can’t you see that?”

His face softened for a brief second, but the insecurity still clouded his expression. “I see it, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel like I’m enough for you. Every time you spend time with him, I start feeling like I’m losing you. I can’t… I can’t stand it.”

You reached out to him, but he flinched, stepping away before your hand could touch him. His back was to you now, his posture rigid, like he was trying to hold everything in.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” you said, voice breaking. “I can’t just cut Minho off. He’s been there for me, just like you’ve been. I need both of you in my life. I never meant to make you feel like this.”

Changbin’s shoulders trembled, but he didn’t turn to face you. The silence between you both was suffocating, and you could feel the weight of his jealousy pushing him further away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke in a quiet, strained voice. “I don’t know if I can handle it anymore. Seeing you laugh with him, seeing him make you happy… It just makes me feel like I’m not enough.”

Your heart clenched, and you stepped closer, trying once again to reach him. But he was slipping through your fingers, and you weren’t sure how to stop it.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t want to lose him, either. Please… don’t make me choose.”

He didn’t respond. The room felt cold, the air heavy with unspoken words. You could see the battle raging inside him the struggle between love and insecurity and you knew that, in this moment, there was no simple way to fix what had been broken.

The silence stretched on, and you realized that you were standing at a crossroads, unsure of how to navigate the emotional storm. The hardest part wasn’t the jealousy. It was the fear of losing both people you cared about, all because of something you never intended to break.

And now, all you could do was wait for Changbin to find his trust again, and hope that Minho’s friendship wouldn’t fall victim to the jealousy that threatened to tear everything apart.

hyunjin

Hyunjin had always been secure in his relationship with you. He trusted you, knew how much you loved him, and never doubted your loyalty. He was never the type to get jealous; he knew the boundaries of friendship, and Changbin was just that, your friend. In fact, Hyunjin admired how close you and Changbin had become over the years, seeing the bond as something healthy. You each had your hobbies and passions, and the balance between your personal space and time together was something that made your relationship work so well.

But recently, something had been stirring inside Hyunjin that he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the feeling of inadequacy he knew that wasn’t it but more like a gnawing discomfort whenever you mentioned the gym or spent time with Changbin there.

You had always enjoyed working out, and Hyunjin, well, he preferred to stay home in his little studio, painting away. He loved the quiet, the solitude, the chance to get lost in his art. It had been your routine. He’d paint while you’d go to the gym, and then you’d both meet up later.

But as weeks passed, he noticed that something was different. He found himself more aware of the hours you were spending with Changbin, sharing in that space, laughing, working out together, getting to know each other even better. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you he did, with everything in him but there was this sudden, unshakable feeling that maybe there was more to it than just fitness routines and friendly chatter.

At first, he told himself it was nothing. He couldn’t let his own insecurities get in the way. But when he found himself zoning out while trying to finish his latest painting, thoughts of you and Changbin at the gym would seep in. The image of you two lifting weights, your smiles, your shared moments… it began to bother him more than he expected.

Then, the shift came one evening when he was finishing up a piece in the studio, and he heard the familiar sound of your footsteps approaching. He looked up to see you standing in the doorway, and for a split second, he wondered if you were tired from your workout, or if something had happened. You gave him your usual smile, your face glowing from the exertion, but something felt off to him.

“You want to join us tomorrow?” you asked casually, like it was no big deal.

But Hyunjin’s mind began to race. You weren’t just asking about a workout session; you were giving him an opening to step into that space with you and Changbin. And for some reason, the thought of it filled him with a kind of anxiousness he couldn’t quite explain.

“I don’t know…” he mumbled, staring at his paintbrush, his fingers gripping it tighter than usual. “I’ve got a lot to do here.”

You tilted your head, sensing something was off but not pressing. “Okay, no worries. Just thought I’d invite you.”

The next few days followed a similar pattern. He’d find himself either painting in his studio or pacing the apartment, unable to focus on his work. You’d come home from the gym, and there was this lingering tension in the air, something Hyunjin couldn’t shake.

Finally, it happened. You and Changbin were heading out to the gym, and Hyunjin found himself at a crossroads. He had been pretending for weeks now that he didn’t care, but that feeling of jealousy had only grown stronger with each passing day. Maybe it was the late-night texts you and Changbin had exchanged about workout tips, or the inside jokes you’d developed with him. Maybe it was the way you spoke about him so casually like a friend you’d been close with for years. But to Hyunjin, it felt like something else, something more, something he was losing out on.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, before you could close the door behind you. His voice cracked slightly, betraying the frustration he had been holding back.

You turned to him, confused. “Yeah?”

“I… I think I’ll join you both at the gym today,” he said, his words coming out in a rush. “I mean, if that’s alright?”

You blinked in surprise. This was unlike Hyunjin, who had never expressed any interest in working out with you before. You smiled softly, assuming it was just a one-time thing, maybe just a way for him to get out of his studio for a while.

“Oh, okay! Sure, come on, it’ll be fun.”

But deep down, Hyunjin wasn’t joining because he suddenly felt like getting fit. No, he was joining because he needed to be closer to you, needed to have more control over what was happening. He didn’t like how much time you were spending with Changbin.

The gym was always meant to be a space for you to unwind, a time where you could let off steam and feel good about yourself, but now it felt different. The moment Hyunjin showed up, you noticed the shift. Changbin greeted him, and there was a brief awkwardness in the air. It wasn’t that Changbin was upset, but he could tell something was off. He gave Hyunjin a friendly nudge, but Hyunjin was too distracted, too wrapped up in his own feelings of insecurity.

The session itself was strange. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d pick up weights, pretend to follow along with you two, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He caught himself watching how you and Changbin interacted how comfortable you were, how you laughed at his jokes, how close you seemed. His stomach churned with an unspoken fear of losing that, of losing you to the connection you shared with someone else.

After the workout, when the three of you were sitting together, Hyunjin realized he couldn’t pretend anymore. The jealousy, the discomfort, all of it was too much to hide. It wasn’t about the gym or Changbin at all it was about the fear that maybe, just maybe, he was losing a piece of you he thought he had all to himself.

He waited until you both were headed back home, the tension thick in the air. You glanced at him, sensing his mood, and that’s when he let it all spill out.

“I don’t like it…” he admitted softly. “I don’t like how much time you’re spending with him. It’s not about Changbin. I trust him, it’s just… I feel like I’m losing something, like I’m not enough anymore.”

You stopped in your tracks, eyes wide. “Hyunjin… you know I love you, right? I didn’t think you’d feel this way.”

His face softened, guilt washing over him for letting his feelings get this far. “I didn’t want to feel like this. I just… I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you.”

You reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You haven’t lost me, Hyunjin. You never will. But you’ve got to trust me, trust us. Nothing’s going to change, okay?”

Hyunjin sighed, relief mingling with the heaviness in his chest. He knew it wasn’t about the gym or Changbin, it was about his own insecurities. And with you by his side, he could learn to let go of that fear.

HAN

You’d been so caught up in your own world lately. Between work, friends, and your hobbies, you didn’t even realize how distant things had become with Jisung. You had been spending more time with Seungmin, hanging out, going out, and laughing together. It wasn’t anything special at first. it was just easy, a friendship you both enjoyed. But lately, you felt something shift in the way you connected. Jisung had noticed, too, but he wasn’t saying anything. He kept it to himself, just like he always did when something bothered him.

One evening, you saw that a new movie had come out, a movie you and Jisung had been talking about watching together for weeks. You were both excited about it, and you had promised him you’d watch it the moment it was released. But when Seungmin invited you to hang out and go see the movie with him, you didn’t think twice. You figured Jisung would be fine with it. After all, you’d planned to watch it together, and it wasn’t like you were ditching him on purpose. You were just hanging out with a friend, right?

It wasn’t until you returned home that evening that you realized how wrong you were.

You walked in, expecting Jisung to be asleep or deep into his own world of music production, but instead, you found him sitting on the couch, looking uncharacteristically tense. He had been waiting for you. His eyes were locked on the screen, but his body was stiff, and his jaw was clenched, like he was holding something in.

“Hey, I’m back!” you said with a bright smile, tossing your bag onto the chair.

Jisung didn’t respond at first, his gaze still fixed on the TV. There was a long, uncomfortable silence before he finally turned to you, his face expressionless, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes hurt, disappointment. He couldn’t even look at you when he spoke.

“Had fun?” His voice was sharp, almost too casual, as if he was trying to hide the sting.

You froze, your smile faltering. “Yeah, it was good. Seungmin and I went to see that new rom com movie. It was really funny,” you said, not realizing how much the words would hurt him.

Jisung’s eyes darkened slightly, his lips pressing together in frustration. “You went to watch our movie... with Seungmin?”

You felt your heart drop at the change in his tone, but you couldn’t quite place the tension in his voice. “Jisung, I didn’t mean to... I just—”

“I know what you meant,” he snapped, cutting you off. “It’s fine. You’re allowed to do whatever you want.” He turned away from you, his posture tense, and you could see the way his fingers clenched into fists at his sides.

“Wait,” you said, stepping forward, trying to reach him. “Jisung, I didn’t think—”

“Didn’t think?” he repeated, turning back to face you, his face a mask of frustration and hurt. His eyes, usually so warm and full of laughter, were now clouded with something deeper, something darker. “You didn’t think. That’s the problem.”

You stood there, trying to piece it together. “I didn’t think what?”

Jisung finally let out a shaky breath, his emotions bubbling over in a way you had never seen before. “That movie,” he muttered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve been talking about it for weeks. You promised me we would watch it together. And you went with Seungmin instead. Just like that.”

His words stung in ways you hadn’t expected. You tried to speak, but no words came. He was right. You had promised him you’d watch it together, and you had completely disregarded that promise. In the moment, it hadn’t even crossed your mind that it would hurt him. But now, as you saw the pain in his eyes, you realized just how much it meant to him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said softly, your heart aching. “I just... I wasn’t thinking. I thought you’d be okay with it. I’m sorry.”

Jisung shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t get it, do you? I’ve been wanting to do something with you. Something just the two of us. And you went with him instead. How long has this been going on, huh? How long have you been pushing me aside for Seungmin?”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. You never realized how much Jisung had been internalizing his feelings, how much he had been keeping inside while you were just going along with things, assuming everything was fine. You thought your bond was strong enough to handle a little time apart, but for him, it was a breaking point. He felt replaced, ignored, and left behind.

“Jisung, no, that’s not what this is about—” you began, but he cut you off again, his voice rising in frustration.

“I’m not stupid!” he shouted, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. “I know when I’m being replaced. I know when I’m not enough for you anymore. You’ve been pulling away from me for weeks, and I didn’t say anything. I thought it was just in my head. But now... now I can’t pretend anymore.”

The raw pain in his voice hit you like a wave, and you felt the tears well up in your eyes as you reached for him, desperate to make him understand. “No, Jisung, I need you to know that this isn’t about you! I care about you so much. You’re not being replaced, I swear. I never meant to make you feel that way.”

But Jisung was already pulling away, his face crumpling with emotion. “You don’t get it, Y/N. Every time I tried to make plans with you, you were too busy with Seungmin. Every time I tried to be there for you, you were already gone. I’m not just some backup. I don’t want to be someone you’re only half invested in.”

The words hit harder than you ever thought they could. You knew he was hurt, but hearing it all laid out in front of you made it feel like a punch to the gut. You didn’t mean to make him feel this way. You didn’t know how deeply it was affecting him, how much he was bottling up inside.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I didn’t realize how much this was hurting you. I never wanted to make you feel this way.”

Jisung didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he just stood there, his shoulders shaking as the weight of it all finally hit him. His facade cracked, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw him break down in front of you. His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke again, a tremble in his words. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Keep pretending that I’m okay when I’m not.”

Your heart shattered at the sight of him, and you reached for him, pulling him into an embrace. But he didn’t hug you back right away. He just stood there, limp in your arms, his face buried in your shoulder as he let out a choked sob.

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you whispered over and over, feeling the weight of his pain pressing down on you. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I promise we’ll fix this. I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t shut me out.”

Jisung didn’t respond. Instead, he just clung to you, his tears soaking your shirt as the rawness of everything finally broke free. You knew that this wasn’t going to be easy to fix. But for the first time, you understood the depth of his pain. And you knew that if you wanted to save your relationship, you had to start listening, really listening, to how he was feeling before it was too late.

felix

It had been weeks now, but it felt like Felix was slipping further and further away. At least, that’s how it seemed to you. In the beginning, he had always known how to strike that perfect balance between spending time with you and indulging in his own hobbies. He always made sure to give you the attention you needed, whether that was planning spontaneous dates or simply being present, talking about your day, or even just lying in silence together. You were both busy people, but the moments you spent together were cherished.

But lately? Lately, Felix seemed distracted. He was often glued to his games, headphones on, fully immersed in his world, leaving you to feel like an outsider in your own relationship. The first few times, you brushed it off he was just in his zone. But it became a pattern. You would arrive at his place, excited to spend time together, only for him to be absorbed in his game, leaving you to sit quietly on the couch. He would tell you, “Just a few more minutes,” or “I’m almost done with this round,” his attention more on the screen than you.

You had tried to understand, tried to tell yourself that it was no big deal. But the more it happened, the more frustrated you became. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to enjoy his hobby, but it felt like you were becoming invisible to him. The moments that used to be filled with warmth and laughter now felt empty and lonely.

Today, you had planned to spend some much needed quality time together, but as usual, Felix was too focused on his game. He barely noticed when you walked into the living room. He greeted you with a distracted, “Hey, babe,” before putting his headset back on, signaling he was about to talk to his friends again.

It hurt. More than you expected it to.

You had always tried to be patient, to understand his need for downtime, but there was only so much you could take. You tried to sit next to him, but as soon as you did, you felt like an interruption. He barely acknowledged your presence, his attention fixed on his screen and the voices of his friends through the headset.

A surge of frustration bubbled up, and you stood up, pacing the room. “Felix, seriously? Can you give me some attention for once?”

“Just a few more minutes, please,” he said, barely looking at you. His voice was soft, but there was an edge of irritation in it, as if your request was an inconvenience.

You stood there for a moment, trying to hold it in, but the hurt was too much. “I’m not asking for much, Felix. I’m just asking for a little time together.”

His eyes flickered to you for a moment, his expression apologetic, but he didn’t take off his headset or pause his game. He didn’t even turn the volume down. You stood there, feeling small and invisible, before the frustration finally overtook you.

“I’m going to the living room,” you muttered, walking out of the room before he could say anything.

In the living room, you found Jeongin lounging on the couch, his phone in hand, scrolling through something. He looked up when you entered, offering a half-smile.

“What’s going on?” he asked casually, noticing the way you were clearly fuming.

“Felix is being…” You trailed off, unable to fully explain. “He’s just been ignoring me all day. I’m so frustrated.”

Jeongin raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so he’s gaming again?”

You nodded, rubbing your temples. “Yeah, that’s all he does now. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point.”

Jeongin’s expression softened slightly. “Sounds like you need to get out of here for a bit.”

You laughed bitterly. “You’re not wrong.”

Jeongin tilted his head, considering. “Want to do something? I’m free.”

You hesitated, looking at him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t spent time with Jeongin before, but you also didn’t want to make Felix feel more neglected than he probably already did. But at the same time, you couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

“Yeah, let’s go shopping,” you suggested, needing a change of scenery, needing to not be stuck in that apartment feeling invisible.

Jeongin jumped up, clearly excited. “Shopping? I’m in. Let’s go.”

You grabbed your purse and walked out without telling Felix anything. You weren’t sure why you felt so petty, but you didn’t feel like explaining yourself to him right now. You needed space from Felix, space from the frustration that had been building up. You just wanted to feel like you mattered again, like you weren’t always second to his games.

A few hours later, you were walking around the mall with Jeongin, laughing at random things, enjoying the simplicity of not having to deal with the tension back at the apartment. You didn’t think about Felix, didn’t even check your phone until it buzzed in your pocket.

It was a call from him.

You sighed before answering. “Hey.”

“You’re not here,” Felix’s voice came through, and there was a clear note of annoyance in it. “I’ve been waiting for you. Where did you go?”

You didn’t feel guilty at first. You just felt exhausted. “I’m out. With Innie.”

“Innie?” Felix’s voice tightened, and you could almost hear him grip the phone harder. “You left to go hang out with him instead of being here with me?”

You froze, the frustration from earlier bubbling up again. “I didn’t leave to hang out with Jeongin. I left because you’ve been completely ignoring me, Felix. You’ve been glued to your game all day, and I’ve tried to be patient, but it’s like I don’t even exist when you’re playing.”

There was silence on the other end, and for a moment, you thought Felix was going to apologize. But when he spoke again, his tone was sharp. “So this is how it’s going to be? You’re going to leave just because I’m playing a game? That’s really mature of you.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden snap in his voice. “Felix, I’m not asking you to drop everything, but I can’t keep being ignored like this. I want to spend time with you, but it feels like you don’t care about that anymore.”

The line was silent for a long moment, and you could feel your heart sinking. When he finally spoke again, his words were cold. “I guess I’m just not enough for you, huh?”

Your chest tightened at the finality in his words. “That’s not it, Felix. I just… I want to feel like I matter.”

There was another beat of silence, then the sound of a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Whatever,” he muttered before ending the call without another word.

You stood there, staring at your phone, your heart heavy with disappointment. You hadn’t expected it to go like this. You hadn’t expected him to snap at you, to treat your feelings like they were an inconvenience. It felt like the distance between you was growing, and no matter how hard you tried to reach out, he was always slipping away.

You pocketed your phone, feeling that weight settle in your chest. Jeongin, who had been watching you quietly, raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

You shook your head, trying to push the tears back. “No. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. It’s like I’m invisible.”

Jeongin stepped closer, his expression softer now. “You’re not invisible. You’re just… you’re just trying to get him to notice you. And sometimes people don’t realize what they have until it’s gone.”

You nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “I hope he realizes before it’s too late.”

seungmin

The last few weeks had been suffocating for Seungmin, and it wasn’t something he knew how to talk about. He prided himself on being calm, collected, the one who could weather any storm without letting emotions take control. But this feeling, this unbearable weight that had settled in his chest, had been eating away at him with every passing day.

You had always been important to him, but the more time you spent with Hyunjin, the more it felt like something was slipping away. It wasn’t just that you were getting close to him it was that Hyunjin was everything you seemed to want now. It started so innocently. You mentioned you were interested in learning how to paint, and naturally, Hyunjin, being the artist he was, had offered to teach you. But what had started as a casual hobby had quickly turned into something much more intimate.

You and Hyunjin had spent hours together, learning techniques, laughing at the mess you made, sharing quiet moments over your canvas. At first, Seungmin tried to brush it off. He told himself it was just a phase, just something new you were interested in. He told himself there was no reason to be jealous, that it was silly to feel left out. But as the days went by, he began to notice something else. Something deeper.

The way you looked at Hyunjin, the way you smiled when he praised your work, the way your eyes sparkled with excitement whenever you talked about your painting sessions. It cut through him like a knife. It was as if the bond you and Seungmin had shared for so long was being slowly replaced, piece by piece, with Hyunjin. The more you two connected, the less Seungmin seemed to matter. You used to tell him everything. You used to come to him with the smallest details of your day, your worries, your joys. But now? Now, it was Hyunjin you turned to. It was Hyunjin who was there when you needed someone to talk to, and it was Hyunjin who made you laugh, who gave you that look of admiration and praise.

It didn’t take long for Seungmin to start feeling like an outsider in his own life.

The worst part was that he couldn’t bring himself to express any of it to you. Every time he tried to put the words together, something stopped him. He was scared of sounding petty, of sounding possessive, of ruining what little time you had with him. He told himself that you had every right to spend time with anyone you wanted, but the pain was growing unbearable, suffocating him with every minute that passed. It felt like he was watching someone else claim the part of you that had always belonged to him.

And so, he did what he always did, he buried it. Seungmin stopped reaching out to you, stopped asking how your painting was going. He kept his distance when he saw you and Hyunjin laughing together in the corner of the room, pretending he didn’t notice how it made his chest tighten. He began avoiding eye contact, pulling away even more whenever you came near. He didn't want to admit that it was jealousy eating him alive. He didn't want to admit that he was terrified of losing you.

You, oblivious to the storm raging inside him, continued on as if nothing had changed. Every time you mentioned Hyunjin, every time you excitedly told him about the next technique Hyunjin had taught you, it was like another knife to his heart. He wanted to be happy for you. He wanted to be the one to encourage your new hobby, but it felt so hollow.

It all came to a breaking point one night, during another quiet hangout. You were sitting on the floor, Hyunjin next to you, as you both worked on your paintings. You had been so close to him, your shoulders brushing as you exchanged thoughts on color palettes. Seungmin couldn’t take it anymore. The room felt suffocating, the noise of everyone around him fading as his gaze fixated on the two of you. The jealousy, the hurt, all bubbled to the surface.

He snapped before he could stop himself. “Are you two done?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. You flinched, and the others looked over at him, confused.

“What?” you asked, clearly taken aback by the sudden outburst.

“You’ve been glued to him all night,” Seungmin spat, his voice filled with raw pain. “Are you even going to look at me tonight, or is it just him? You don’t seem to care about anyone else anymore.”

The words felt like they had been ripped from his chest, but the second they left his mouth, regret came crashing down on him. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t the Seungmin you knew. But it was too late. The damage was done.

Hyunjin, who had been silent up until then, stood up, his eyes narrowed in defense. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Seungmin? She’s just learning something new. What’s your problem?”

Seungmin turned to him, his fists clenched. He hated the way Hyunjin was standing up for you, but more than that, he hated the way it made him feel small. “My problem is that she’s all you care about now. You’re the one who’s always there for her. Not me.”

Seungmin couldn’t look at either of you anymore. He stormed out of the room, unable to stay in that suffocating atmosphere for another second. He couldn’t even look at you, he couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in your eyes.

You followed him, calling his name softly as you found him standing by the door, trying to control his breathing. He was shaking. His mind was racing, but it was too late to take anything back. He had said the words. He had let the jealousy get the best of him, and now he couldn’t fix it.

“Seungmin,” you said softly, but your voice sounded so far away. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me for days, and now this… what are you even trying to say?”

He couldn’t look at you. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I don’t know anymore. Maybe… maybe I’m just scared that you’ll… you’ll stop needing me. That you’ll find someone else who fits better with you.”

You stepped closer, but his words seemed to have knocked the air from your lungs. You looked at him, and for the first time, Seungmin saw the hurt in your eyes. Not the confusion, but the real hurt. The realization that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the person you thought he was anymore.

"Seungmin…" you whispered, your voice broken. "You’ve been pushing me away for weeks. I didn’t know you were feeling like this. I thought we were okay."

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I thought if I stayed quiet, if I just… kept my distance, I wouldn’t mess this up. But I did. I know I did.”

You took another step forward, your voice trembling as you said, “You don’t have to push me away. I’m here. But if you’re not honest with me, if you keep hiding from me, I don’t know how we can fix this.”

Seungmin felt the crushing weight of his mistake pressing on his chest. Could he fix this? Could he fix the distance that had grown between you, the jealousy that had turned into bitterness? He wasn’t sure. But the silence between you two felt like it was stretching on forever, and for the first time, Seungmin felt the real fear of losing you, not just to Hyunjin, but to his own insecurities.

I.N

The soft hum of the kitchen was interrupted only by the gentle scrape of your spatula against the bowl. You had been working on this cake for hours, mixing, measuring, perfecting. It wasn’t just any cake. It was for Jisung, your close friend, the one who had always encouraged your love for baking. Ever since he’d asked you to teach him how to bake, you’d grown even closer, bonding over the shared experience of perfecting recipes and creating something sweet together. You knew how much he loved your desserts, and it felt special almost intimate in the way he appreciated your effort.

You were genuinely excited, and that excitement kept you focused as you carefully put the batter into a pan. It was a symbol of your friendship, a gesture of gratitude for his constant support. You smiled to yourself, imagining his reaction when he saw it later, the way his eyes would light up. Jisung had always been the kind of friend who made every moment feel lighthearted, and it meant the world that he would be celebrating with you today.

But as you concentrated on the final details, you noticed the change in the room. The weight of the air shifted, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Every time Jeongin passed by, there was a distinct tension that you couldn’t ignore. It was subtle at first, just a flicker of annoyance in his eyes when he walked past. A slight edge in his tone when he grabbed a drink from the fridge and mumbled, "Still working on that stupid cake?" The words weren’t harsh, but they carried an undertone of something deeper, something you couldn’t quite place.

You had always teased Jeongin about his jealousy. The way his eyes would narrow whenever you spent time with other people or how his voice would take on a playful but sharp edge when someone else had your attention. You always called him cute, told him not to worry, reassured him that he was the one who mattered most. It was always just a little game, a tease, a shared joke between the two of you. But today, there was no playfulness in his reactions. No warmth in his scowl.

The moment he asked if you wanted to go for a walk, you didn’t think much of it. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to spend time with him, especially with the weather being so nice. But today, you couldn’t. The cake was still in the oven, and there was this gnawing excitement within you that you couldn’t shake. "Not now, I’m almost done with this," you replied without hesitation. It wasn’t anything personal, it wasn’t about him it was about the cake, about Jisung’s birthday, about something you were doing for a friend.

But Jeongin’s eyes darkened in response, and his voice dropped into something dangerously quiet. "Why are you baking a cake for him? You’ve never baked one for me." There was no teasing this time, no hint of joking. His words were sharp, biting. "It seems too romantic, don’t you think? Don’t you see it?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn’t realized just how deep his feelings ran, or how much he had been bottling up. You thought it was a harmless joke between you two, but this... this was different. You looked up at him, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. His eyes were wide, hurt, and angry, all at once. It was a look you had never seen before, and it sent a wave of guilt crashing over you.

"Jeongin, it’s not like that," you tried to explain, your voice softening, but your hands were trembling now, the frosting you had just prepared, forgotten. "It’s just a cake. It’s for Jisung. I—"

"Yeah, but why him?" Jeongin interrupted, his voice growing louder, desperation creeping into it. "Why does it always have to be everyone else? You never think about me, never do something like that for me. I always tell you that I don’t mind, but I do. You never see it. You always act like I’m just some joke, like my feelings don’t matter."

You froze. Your mind raced to find the right words, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears. The weight of his words was suffocating, and suddenly the kitchen, the cake, the warm air that had once been comforting, felt like a prison. You had never realized how much Jeongin needed you, how much he felt overlooked, overshadowed. You had never noticed how deeply his jealousy ran, how much he had been quietly aching, all the while you had thought of it as something harmless, something sweet.

"I didn’t mean to hurt you," you whispered, but the words didn’t seem to matter. Jeongin’s gaze dropped, his jaw tightening as his frustration boiled over.

"Yeah, well, maybe I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with it," he muttered under his breath. "Maybe I’m tired of always being the afterthought."

The truth of his words landed with an ache in your chest. It wasn’t just about the cake. It wasn’t even about Jisung. It was about the months, the years, of you and Jeongin existing in this delicate balance where you never saw how much he needed you, how much he craved the same kind of attention you gave to everyone else. The realization hit you with a cruel force: you had been so caught up in your own world, in your friendships, in the gestures you thought were innocent, that you had missed the small things the subtle signs that showed Jeongin was hurting.

Your head spun, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, the sharp scent of burnt cake cut through the air. You looked at the oven, horror rising in your throat as you rushed to it. The cake, your hours of work was ruined. The edges were blackened, the once-soft sponge now a charred mess.

It was gone. Everything you had worked for, every hope you’d had of giving Jisung a perfect birthday surprise, gone in an instant.

You turned to Jeongin, your face flushed with frustration, helplessness, and something darker. "Are you happy now?" you bit out, your voice sharp and full of anger you didn’t know you had. "Is this what you wanted? I’ve spent hours working on this cake, and now it’s ruined. Just like everything else."

Jeongin didn’t respond. He stood there, staring at you, a mixture of guilt and anger in his eyes. But it wasn’t enough. Not enough for you to stop. Without thinking, you stormed out of the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest as you fled to the solitude of your room.

The anger didn’t fade. The guilt didn’t ease. You had never felt so utterly disconnected from him, yet somehow, in that distance, you also realized how desperately you needed to fix what had been broken.

//

masterlist.

[soleilapproves]

Boxer!Sukuna often thinks about what his future would’ve looked like if he didn’t pick his career over you. (inspired by Sienna by The Marías) afab!reader

The idea of what could’ve been keeps burning in his mind. It’s been burning for years, ever since that day he left you behind with your eyes brimming with tears and heart torn in two.

But he had to move forward. He fell in love with the sport before he fell in love with you.

It was all too late to go back and contemplate over the decision again. Uraume had already popped the good champagne and his friends were busy dancing and boisterously laughing inside his penthouse, celebrating the biggest win of his career. All while the champion was standing in the empty balcony, gazing at the glittering streets as the sun set.

His rise to fame was a treacherous yet rewarding journey. He was proud but he was also empty. Maybe if he had just stuck around and suffered a little longer with you then you would’ve been standing next to him today, clinking your flute with his, and laughing at his romantic and flirtatious remarks. He probably could’ve kissed you right after winning the fight and flaunted your ring to the world to announce his retirement after his final win.

Maybe you both would even have a little one being carried around in his brother’s arms for the night. A child too spoilt and adorable for their own good. Maybe they’d have your eyes. Or his—he doesn’t really care. Simply knowing that the child was a product of the love you both shared was enough to fill him with the happiness of multiple lifetimes.

Much to his chagrin, there was no veracity to his dream.

On the other side of the world, you stared at the rising sun as you thought about the past and the upcoming years of your life. How different they were. You came so far. Made so many developments.

Yet your heart still quickens when you remember your first great love, Sukuna Ryomen.

Like most love stories, it was a whirlwind of a romance. A passion felt like no other. It consumed you till you blindly believed that you were a part of his existence. His existence revolved around making you happy. He even said so, often kissing you like you were going to fade away.

But all good things must end.

You thought your life was going to stop when he bid his final goodbye. You slowly learned to get back up on your feet again, picking up the pieces that he broke.

Your heart was bandaged, and a little guarded, but you still welcomed love for you were full of it and had so much to give. A pattern you were willing to repeat.

The diamond on your finger sparkles when the sunlight hits it, bringing your gaze down to where your hand was resting on the window pane.

You often felt guilty when your fiancé talked about children with an enthusiastic hilt in his voice. While he’d revel on about how he’ll spoil the child, you were busy concealing your true thoughts.

Thoughts that made you feel horribly guilty.

What would’ve happened if you had just fought for Sukuna’s love a little harder, latched on to his legs as your scabby knees dragged across the ground as he walked away?

Maybe you’d already have a child in your arms. Your heart often swells whenever you ponder over an imaginary child with Sukuna’s temper. Tiny lips forming a pout with the most expressive eyes ever.

Lately that child has been living in your mind more often than not, making you long for them with their haunting laugh and toothless smiles.

But you know you’ll never see them. Or him for that matter. You’ve put that part of reality away in a box and shoved it deep in the back of your mind so you’ll never forget it.

And so you can be fair to your fiancé who loves you more than you know.

The only thing that gives you solace is the possible existence of alternate universes—different microcosms of the life you could’ve shared with Sukuna Ryomen had he not given you up like you were a fickle thought.

—

I know I said I wanted to get out of the boxer!sukuna bubble but I was having major writer’s block with my sentient game character ghost fic and this drabble just pulled me out of it 👍

[keeryhours]

do you trust me? - eddie munson

Vampire! Eddie Munson x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Something about Eddie has changed.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, creampie, blood drinking, mentions of injuries and a near death experience

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N:

This is my first time writing something supernatural, so I’m a little nervous! This was written for horny poker in the discord, so in about 45 minutes. I just wanted to share it here! I hope you enjoy 💕 Thank you once again LOML Roz @punkrockmlchael for my banner!

Something was wrong with Eddie. He came back from the Upside Down…different.

You had been grateful he came back at all. He had nearly died there, Dustin crying his eyes out as he slowly dragged Eddie’s unconscious, mutilated body back to the trailer. You had nearly collapsed when you saw him, your boyfriend, covered in demobat bite marks and bleeding profusely. You didn’t understand how he was still alive. He shouldn’t be alive.

He spent weeks recovering in the hospital, you by his side the entire time. He was the old Eddie once he woke up, cracking jokes and making you smile even before he was out of the woods, as the doctors put it. But he made a full recovery, much faster than anyone expected. It was a miracle.

Then, something about Eddie began to change.

For one thing, Eddie had always been hot. But now he was otherworldly. His brown curls shined in the light in a way they never had before, never frizzy and always perfect. His chocolate doe eyes had darkened. His skin was clear and pale. And he never left the trailer anymore.

You assumed it was the trauma of what he’d been through, but he seemed in fine spirits whenever you’d visit. In fact, he was always in a good mood, happy to see you. But he wouldn’t leave.

You laid in bed with him now, cuddled beneath his arm and under his blankets. He always felt cold now. You wondered if he had developed some sort of anemia or some complication from the blood loss. But he was still your Eddie, and he still gave the best cuddles.

You had your leg thrown over his hip, and his hand rested on your thigh, rubbing small circles into it. You had been laying there in silence this whole time, just enjoying each other’s company.

Eddie moved then, placing a hand on the side of your head and turning you to look up at him. He gazed into your eyes with his nearly black ones, a gentle smile on his lips. “I love you. So much,” he said, and then he leaned in, pressing his soft lips to yours.

You kissed him back happily, and it didn’t take long for him to deepen the kiss, tongue dipping into your mouth and hand gripping onto your hip. You moaned into his kiss, and he moved on top of you, slotting his lithe body between your legs. His lips trailed down your jaw and to your neck, where he stopped.

“Baby,” he muttered, his voice a low rumble against your neck. He nuzzled into it, breathing in your scent, his lips just barely grazing your skin.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed as you were lost in the feeling of Eddie’s body on yours.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his voice just as low as before. You could barely hear him.

“‘Course I do,” you said. Your hand absentmindedly played with Eddie’s hair as he continued nuzzling into your neck.

“Good,” he said. “I’m going to try something, okay? I need you to trust me.”

You nodded lightly. “Okay, Eds. I trust you.” And you did, wholeheartedly. You would follow Eddie to the ends of the earth.

“Okay. Just…okay.” Eddie nuzzled into your neck again, tongue darting out to taste your skin. You moaned at the feeling, as Eddie hummed in approval at the taste.

Then, you felt two sharp pricks impaled into your neck.

Your eyes went wide and you gasped, your instinct to push him away, but Eddie wasn’t moving. The pain shot through your body, but less than a few seconds later, it faded. Not only faded, but turned into the most warm, all encompassing bliss you’d ever felt in your life.

“Oh,” you moaned, eyes falling closed from the pure ecstasy of the feeling, of whatever it was Eddie was doing to you. Your mind went hazy, your brain clouding.

You felt the sharp pins disappearing from your neck, and all too quickly the bliss faded away. You were confused. Eddie pulled back, and looked you in the eyes.

He had blood smeared all around his mouth. His lips were parted, and you could see the sharp points of his canines. They had not looked like that five minutes ago. Your eyes were wide, fear struck into your heart. What the fuck?

“Do you still trust me?” He asked, nuzzling his forehead against yours. “Do you want me to continue?”

“I…” You had no idea what was going on, and you were pretty convinced you were dreaming. But with everything you’d seen in the Upside Down, nothing surprised you anymore. You would ask questions later. “You can keep going.”

Eddie smiled, and it looked sinister with the blood all over his lips and chin. He slowly lowered his lips to your ear.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, my little dove.”

He quickly peeled both of your clothes off, leaving you both completely naked. He lowered his head back to your neck, and you shivered, from the cold or from anticipation you weren’t entirely sure. “Ready?” He asked quietly.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed again, hands wrapped around his broad shoulders. You felt the pain again, making you jump, but then the bliss washed over your body a second time, relaxing every muscle.

Eddie drank from your body, the taste like nothing he’d ever experienced. Like the finest wine in the world, the sweetest nectar. It made him impossibly hard.

He reached between your bodies as he continued to drink, dragging his tip through your folds. You were wet, so wet, and you moaned at the feeling of him pressed up against your hole. He pushed inside, sinking every inch of his length into you. Did he get bigger?

Eddie slowly pulled his hips back before rolling them back into you. You let out a mix between a moan and a gasp, never having felt something so incredible in your life. He filled you perfectly as he drained you at the same time, it was…indescribable. The most perfect feeling that ever could have existed. The kind of full body bliss people chased their whole lives and never achieved.

Eddie moaned loudly as he continued his movements, his cock throbbing inside of you. It was like every drop of blood he drank from you was rushing straight to his pulsing cock. He fucked you slowly though, every single centimeter of movement absolute heaven. He wanted to savor it.

You could feel an orgasm quickly approaching already, and it had only been a few minutes. Your pussy was clenching around Eddie’s cock, only drawing hotter moans from him. “Eddie…I’m gonna…”

You didn’t even get the sentence out before an orgasm washed over you, turning your vision white, your ears ringing from the intensity. Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream of pure pleasure, back arching into Eddie’s body.

He sped up his thrusts, fucking into you a little harder and faster now. Eddie had never felt something as incredible in his life, this was nothing like any sex he’d ever experienced. The feeling of your hot blood running down his throat, into his body, filling him with warmth, pure euphoria. He never wanted this to end.

“Eddie, Eddie, oh god, oh god,” you moaned. You could feel that tension building in your belly again. You had never cum so close together like this, never experienced such an intense orgasm as the one you’d just had. You would think you’d need to recover, but no, oh god, you were-

“Eddie, baby, I’m gonna cum again, oh fuck-!”

You came even harder the second time, and you really did scream this time. If you had been less out of it, you might have worried about the entire trailer park hearing you.

Eddie let out the most sinful moan, fucking into you hard and fast now. His hips snapped into yours at a brutal pace, and your body felt weak beneath him, like you couldn’t even move, could do nothing but lay there and take the pleasure he was giving you.

Eddie’s free hand gripped bruises into your hip as he thrusted in one, two, three more times, before letting out a primal groan as he came inside of you more than he ever had before. His cock throbbed inside of you as he shot rope after rope of cum into your tight, wet, perfect pussy. It seemed endless, and you had never felt so full and blissed out in your life.

You felt Eddie remove his teeth from your neck first, his tongue licking up the excess blood that dripped down your skin, savoring every drop. Both of your bodies shuddered as he held you tight, his face still buried in your neck, breathing in your scent as he caught his breath and composed himself.

Finally he pulled back, looking down at you with his big dark eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked gently. “Was that okay?”

“That was…I don’t know what that was.” You laughed, breathless. “The most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced? The best sex I’ve ever had?”

He laughed, licking the blood off his lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how to, uh…bring it up.”

“It’s okay,” you said, gently brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m glad you trusted me with it.”

“I’m glad you trusted me, enough to let me do this.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, fangs gone now. “I love you. In life and in death.”

You smiled. “I love you, Eds.”

tagging some besties who may be interested :)

@punkrockmlchael @the-witty-pen-name @losingmygrasponreality @fizzing-imagines

[wattpadbxtch]

I’ll give u a kiss if u write freak Azzi

i gotchu queen. it's one of my favs to write ngl. azzi's literally perfect.😜

The Fucking Menace

pairing: freak!azzi x paige

warning: smut

Paige knew Azzi was different from the jump.

Like, yeah—she had been with girls before. Plenty of them. She had been good at it too. She knew how to take her time, knew what she was doing, knew exactly how to get a girl trembling underneath her.

But Azzi Fudd?

Azzi was a fucking menace.

Paige had figured it out piece by piece, but the first real clue came in the form of a text.

She had been at practice, minding her own damn business, stretching before drills, when her phone vibrated in her shorts. A quick glance at the screen showed Azzi with a little devil emoji next to her name.

Paige wasn’t dumb. She knew better than to open Azzi’s messages when she was in public. But her curiosity got the best of her. So she unlocked her phone, clicked the notification—

And nearly choked on her own breath.

It was a picture. A very NSFW picture. Azzi in front of her mirror, just a tiny pair of lace panties on, one hand between her thighs, the other holding her phone.

And the caption?

“Thinking about how good you stretch me out. Hurry up and come home.”

Paige’s soul left her body.

She locked her phone so fast she almost fumbled it, eyes darting around the gym, praying to God nobody saw her reaction. But damn, she was already flushed. Already ready to call practice early and haul ass back to her apartment.

And the worst part?

Azzi knew what she was doing.

She loved this shit. Loved getting Paige all worked up when she couldn’t do anything about it. Loved knowing Paige was sitting there, thighs clenched, trying to focus on basketball when all she could think about was Azzi’s bare skin, the little arch of her back, the fucking smirk she had on her face in that damn picture.

And when Paige finally got home that night?

Azzi was waiting for her—stretched out on Paige’s bed like a damn meal, one of Paige’s hoodies barely covering her, eyes dark with amusement.

Paige had dropped her bag on the floor, standing in the doorway, just looking at her.

“You are so unserious.”

Azzi had just grinned. “You liked it, though.”

Paige had swallowed hard. “Obviously.”

Azzi had sat up slow, biting her lip. “Then why are you still standing there?”

And that was how Paige ended up on her knees between Azzi’s thighs within five minutes of walking through the door.

But that was just one example.

Because Azzi wasn’t just a freak over text—she was unhinged in bed, too.

She had no shame. None.

She liked to talk Paige through it, liked to tell her exactly how good she felt, how much she loved it.

“Fuck, baby, this dick is so deep— look at you, stroking me like you wanna put a baby in me—shit, you know this pussy is all yours, right?*”

Paige could barely function when Azzi started talking like that.

And it wasn’t just dirty talk. Azzi was always down to try shit. If Paige so much as hinted at something new, Azzi would tilt her head all innocent-like and go, “Oh? You wanna try that? Okay, bet.”

And then she would show out.

Paige had never met a girl who could take strap like Azzi. It made no damn sense. She could go round after round, still talking her shit, still asking for more. Paige had tested her limits so many times and Azzi had never once tapped out first.

And the craziest thing?

Azzi had favorites.

Like, she would be riding Paige’s strap, hands planted on her chest, taking it like she was born for it, and she’d be talking—talking, like she wasn’t losing her mind.

“Mmm, fuck—this my favorite way to fuck you, baby— you like watching me take it? Like watching my pussy stretch around you? Shit— you love it when I bounce on it, don’t you?*”

And Paige? Paige was clenching the sheets, jaw slack, barely holding on for dear life.

Every time she thought she had the upper hand, Azzi flipped the script.

Paige was topping, sure. She was in control, technically. But somehow, Azzi always had her exactly where she wanted her.

Like that time Paige had her pinned down, strapping her slow and deep, thinking she was in charge—

Only for Azzi to wrap her arms around her, pull her close, and whisper, “C’mon, baby, you know I like it nasty. Go harder.”

Paige had nearly blacked out on the spot.

She did go harder. She did whatever Azzi told her to do, every single time.

Because Azzi Fudd was a different breed.

And Paige?

Paige was never not gonna give her exactly what she wanted.

[gorillawithautism]

A little over a year ago, on February 3rd 2024, Clark Joseph Harman was murdered. He was 12 years old. Not even 24 hours prior, He had been legally kidnapped by two men from a "transport" or "escort" company that had been hired by his parents. He was brought to Trails Carolina, a "wilderness program" and part of the troubled teen industry. The act of being legally kidnapped in this manner is often called getting "gooned" in survivor communities.

Before I properly start, I have a note: I learned of his name because someone in the r/troubledteens subreddit found it not long after I heard of his case. I did not learn his name because it was consensually released by his family. As such, I will use only his initials (CJH) throughout the rest of this post. I decided to head the post with his name because I think it's important that people know it. It was not consensually released, and that should be respected, but he was still a whole person. He was a twelve year old boy with a name and a family and so much life left to live. All of you should witness what was taken from him.

The medical examiner's preliminary report states that after CJH was gooned, he went through a check-in to process him into the program. He was uncooperative at first, demanding a phone call with his parents, but was able to cooperate after talking to them. He was placed on a 1-1 with a staff member who was with him at all times. The staff member says CJH chose not to eat dinner. Then they went to bed. According to Trails' protocol, he was to sleep on the floor of the cabin with a staff member sleeping beside him. His set up was a thin mattress with a thick plastic sheet folded into a canoe-like shape and set on top of the mattress. Above that, a sleeping bag inside a bivy with a zipper alarm that would go off if he tried to leave his tent. CJH slept but he was restless and mumbling. He had a (staff-permitted) moment outside his tent around 11pm but then goes back to "bed." Around midnight, he is restless and mumbling in his sleep once again, and he begins thrashing. It eventually subsided. Routine checks were performed by staff, but the bivy being opaque meant that they did not actually see CJH. I will note that this detail was against protocol. Normally, the bivy has a mesh interior door and the staff would have been able to see CJH in their routine checks. However, the mesh door on the tent they used that night was broken, so they used the weather resistant outer door instead. Despite these routine checks by staff, the thrashing at midnight is the last noted incident until morning.

And yet morning comes, and a little boy is dead. Staff find him in his tent lying on his right side with his feet at the head of the bivy and his head at the tapered end of it. He is cold and unresponsive. 911 is called, CPR is unsuccessful and a little boy is dead. A little boy is dead and they don't notice until morning. A little boy was kidnapped and now he's dead. A little boy was in the troubled teen industry for less than 24 hours and he's dead because of it. He will never get out of the industry and he will never leave that wilderness program and he will never heal from the trauma he was forced to endure because he's dead. They killed him. The program killed him, the staff killed him, our government killed him, those goons killed him, his parents killed him, you killed him. A little boy is dead, and an uncountable number of people are at fault.

There's an extent to which his parents are victims too. They lost their son because of an awful choice they made. And while I don't know these people personally, I do know enough about how this industry works to know it's highly likely that they believed in what they were doing. Everything they did was legal, and everything they did was advertised to them as something that would help their child who they didn't know how to care for. I'm not saying it was a good decision, but I know how predatory this industry is. A parent who doesn't know where to turn, a child who clearly needs help, and suddenly a web page. Or a hired educational consultant. Or another parent. Or a pamphlet. Something or someone that tells them "There are schools and programs for children like yours. There are options for parents like you." They say "Send your kid to Trails Carolina. It's like a summer camp for kids who need help." According to several cult researchers, the troubled teen industry is much like a cult. The parents are often people who genuinely care about their kids and truly believe this will help. The cult drew them in as cults do. CJH was killed by his parents and their choice to send him to trails. CJH was killed by his parents, and that cannot be changed. They will always have to carry that responsibility, and I cannot stress enough how it was their fault and they do have a part in this. But if I let a single person come away from this with the impression that they are entirely or even mostly to blame for their child's death, I will have failed to communicate just what this industry is and what it does to children and their families.

The system at large is what's at fault. The program itself, Trails Carolina, has killed kids before (Alec Lansing, 17, died of hypothermia after being injured while attempting to run away from the program, Trails Carolina, November 23rd 2014). Other programs have killed kids before, both recently (Cornelius Frederick, 16, killed in physical restraint, lakeside academy, May 1st 2020) and further in the past (Phillip Williams Jr., 15, official cause of death was a "brain aneurysm" but this was determined with no proper investigation and he had been severely beaten in some sort of "therapeutic boxing ring" before his death, Elan School, December 27th 1982). These programs are not made to help us. They are made to fix us. And in practice, all they do is kill us and traumatize us. They manipulate, they brainwash, they abuse, they hurt, they kill. All of them do. Even the ones that supposedly don't utilize physical restraint methods. Even the ones where staff don't sexually or physically assault the kids in their custody. Even the most tame and least violent of programs. Even the ones that don't interrupt our academics, even the ones that don't drug us with excessively or incorrectly prescribed medication, even the ones in tourist hotspots like hawaii, even the ones where a kid can work with horses or dogs or rabbits. They all abuse us. All of them.

And it's legal. It's all legal. Even our deaths are legal. Trails Carolina was forced to shut down after CJH's murder, but other programs still exist and the DA chose not to press charges. Let me say that again. The District Attorney. Chose not to press charges. For manslaughter.

On November 6th 2024, District Attorney Andrew Murray issued a press release where he stated that while CJH's case was "heartbreaking" and "tragic," that it "did not involve criminal intent or recklessness sufficient to warrant criminal charges for involuntary manslaughter under the law." The carelessness of having CJH sleep in an opaque tent where the staff could not get sights on him during their routine checks was not enough. Letting him to sleep in a tent where such suffocation was even possible in the first place was not enough. Having an alarm on the door so he would be unable to get out without consequences was not enough. Forcing him to sleep in this tent despite the fact that he was both "audibly and physically upset" about this sleeping arrangement was not enough. A dead child was not enough. And it will not be enough so long as these programs exist. Everyone that put him in that situation and everyone who allowed it to go without any sort of legal charges or reform is at fault for this child's death.

And that includes you. Every single one of you who is not a victim or survivor of the troubled teen industry. All of you who watch these children die and say nothing. All of you who force survivors and victims to trigger themselves over and over again in an attempt to speak up against the system that hurt us. All of you who don't listen. All of you who listen once and then let yourself forget about us. Every single one of you.

A child is dead, and more will die. And it feels like TTI survivors and victims are the only ones who care. How many of us will die because of you?

[messenger-of-babel]

Hello, I was hoping you take requests. If you do, can I please request one with Nightwing where the reader is his best friend and she gets kidnapped by the Joker and is badly hurt and how he deals with it? Thank you very much!

I Told You So

Summary: Dick remembers the risks of befriending civilians when you disappear one day.

Word Count: 2.7K

Notes: Dear anon, I hope that you still hang around my blog, and I'm so sorry this took so long to get to you after angstober. I had so many other ways to take the themes, but I opted for a more subtle approach. I hope it is close to what you were looking for. 💙

I'm working through my requests! I love getting these in my inbox so for everyone that has sent one, please know that I LOVE seeing these prompts and I plan to do all of them. Warnings for graphic descriptions of injuries and violence and a slightly shaky fic. Getting back into the swing of things! (Also want to say I went back through my blog and re-read every comment and reblog tags that people have left and I love that people love my work so much.)

Reblogging will summon Nightwing to be your Valentines this year! 💙💙💙

Love RiRi <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Dick had told himself not to be friends with civilians way back when he had started being a vigilante. It had been a quiet sentence that he had uttered to himself in the depths of his mind, and one that was overshadowed by his personality at every moment from then. It was almost like a defunct rule that just sat there for the sake of playing on his conscious.

 By nature, he was too outgoing, too eager to involve himself in the community and connect with the people that he fought for. He wanted to help the kids at the orphanage when he made trips with Bruce, he wanted to talk to those gathered around food trucks getting cheap meals because their apartments had been destroyed in last week’s bad clash with Scarecrow. He wanted that connection, which let him keep Dick Grayson away from the suit. The suit that called to him like a siren. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up just like Bruce, a shattered reflection unable to distinguish who was looking back at him at the end of the day. Another martyr who had sacrificed his soul and let the kevlar devour him wholly.

So, when he hung out with you, he was Dick. You reminded him that he was Dick Grayson, and the pressure that sat in his chest always eased. You had met when he took Haley in for her shots, a dimly lit vet clinic with underpaid staff and underfunded equipment.

"Sorry about that." you chuckle, head dipping down to nod at your own dog, who was pulling at the lead to get to Haley. Dick waved it off, laughing as he relaxed the lead in his hand. Haley ran circles around your golden labrador, tail wagging in excitement. Your hands brushed and fumbled with each other as you tried to awkwardly untangle the leads, pulling your dog’s apart when you could.

"Don't worry, Haley gets excited too." he smiles, crouching down to pet your own pup. He stares at Dick with black glossy eyes, tail waving back and forth as he tries to lick Dick's face, making him laugh. "What's the name?"

"Darty." you smile back, your companion turning his head back to look at you as he hears his name. "He's a good boy." you coo, rubbing his head. Dick scratches behind his ears before Haley gets jealous, nipping at the sleeves of his navy jacket with a whine.

"Ah, ah, gentle. I love you too." he laughs, a hand on each dog to keep them happy.

From then on you two had bonded over walks int he dog park and afternoon coffee while your canine friends played tug of war in front of your bench. It was hard to find people he considered friends, much less his best one. He was best friends with Wally still, and he was the person Dick went to when he was having troubles in his vigilante life. When he couldn’t take the stress of watching Bruce have another episode, something that was beginning to frequent more and more. He went to Wally when he needed favours called in, and he was stuck in bed with bruising so bad he looked like he’d picked a fight with a semi-truck (although Bane really felt like that at times).  But with you, he could talk about things that annoyed him. He could complain about little things, like how the coffee shop on the corner near his apartment didn't taste the same now that they changed management, or the fact that the rain had brought even more potholes to the Gotham streets, making driving a nightmare. Sometimes Dick fell so deep into those conversations with you, wrapped up in the way that you laughed or nodded along, that some days he thought he himself was an ordinary civilian.

But there were times like these that the little sentence came back from the corner of his mind that he pushed it into.

Where it came taunting him in that sing song voice, saying 'I told you so'.

Where he was reminded why he had tried to make the rule against befriending citizens.

He had noticed when you didn't make the puppy play date on Thursday like usual, Haley sitting sadly like her owner as they both waited for their friends. He had sent a quick text, 'Are you ok??' but wrote it off that there was just a good chance that you were sick, considering the flu that had swept your workplace the week before.

So, the civilian in Dick gave it the benefit of the doubt.

The next day you still hadn't responded, despite Dick knowing that you didn't work the Fridays. He rolled over, checking his phone with blurry eyes to see no new messages on his notification centre. He had had a rough patrol the night before and his muscles ached from misjudging a rooftop and landing harshly, so he let himself sleep in. You would surely respond later when you had time, and if you really were sick then he knew you wouldn't be awake till past noon.

So, the civilian in Dick rolled back over and caught up on sleep from the night shift.

However, when Saturday hit, he got the notice from Bruce that he was needed. Dick had spent the day in increased worry, knocking at your door around lunchtime only to receive no answer. The road was bumpy as he drove the bike back to the manor, wheels hitting potholes too wide to avoid properly. His frown deepened when he finally made it back to the manor, spotting Jason's bike out the front too. He dismounted, shaking the light rain from his hair. The dusk was being quickly swallowed by Gotham's signature rain clouds, so he shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried inside, greeting Alfred on his way down to the cave.

The sentence popped up in the forefront of his mind as he took sight of everyone in the cave.

 Bruce turned from the Bat computer, already in suit and cowl. Stephanie sat to his left; hip propped up against a table. Tim was suited up, still focused on the strings of numbers and texts flashing across the bat computer screen.

"Glad to see you could make it." Jason says gruffly, brushing past him. He was still in his riding gear, hair tousled from the helmet. Dick nods back, a flash of understanding passing through the two brothers.

"What's the situation?" he asks, coming to stand behind Tim's chair, next to Bruce.

"Mass kidnapping." Bruce says, eyes hard and trained on the computer screen.

"Culprit?"

"Joker." Jason fills in, voice distant as he changes on the other side of the room.

"It's pretty bad. Batman and I were investigating a disappearance, but it turns out there was a whole string prior. and now…" he says, tapping the space bar and the screen fills with faces.

"Now we've got twenty gone." Steph fills in, glancing sadly at the screen. "He's been playing a game, and we're losing."

Red crosses begin to flicker across some of the portraits floating in front of him, making him cringe. There were students, professors, and blue-collar workers. Some who seemed to work in an office, some who clearly worked outside. He scanned each face with an X, feeling the pain behind the implications. That's when he froze, and that's when that sentence came back stronger than ever.

I told you so.

He felt a slight tremor in his hand before he clenched it into a fist. His mouth was dry, guilt coursing through him. Maybe it was a rage, maybe it was a sadness. Dick honestly didn’t know how to untangle his emotions in this moment. He just knew that one of those faces up there was you, thankfully free from an X but there, nonetheless.

And the vigilante in Dick died a little inside.

"It’s not his MO." he says tensely. "Doesn't he want the attention of the Batman? It's not like him to do things in the background without announcing himself." he has to croak out, making Tim give him a curious side glance. His younger brother was always smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for.

"I think he's learnt how to self-entertain." Jason hums, appearing at his side with a sour expression. "He's gearing up for something big. Something to lord over the Bat."

"And we aren't going to let that happen." Bruce spoke up, voice stern. "Everyone here is to locate missing civilians while Red Robin and I track down Joker. We need to clear the field of potential casualties. Understood?"

Everyone nodded, but no one understood as painfully as Dick.

When the group broke up to get started, he called you again. It hurt twice as much knowing that the reason you weren't picking up is because that sick bastard had you somewhere. Because he had gotten too comfortable as a civilian that he failed you as a vigilante. If he hadn't given the benefit of the doubt, maybe you'd be here and safe. Maybe if he hadn't rolled over and gone back to sleep, he could have used that time trying to find you instead. If he had done his job, then none of this would have happened.

And maybe that would have been worth being consumed by the suit.

When he does find your signal, his heart nearly leaps from his chest. Everyone else had already entered the field, scouring buildings and known hideouts to just find anyone from the GPD missing persons list. Not Dick. Dick needed to get you back specifically. If there was any benefit to having a vigilante as a best friend, is that he would tear the city apart trying to find you. The downsides being that because of him you were lost in the first place. He sent the location to his phone and races from the manor, adrenaline making his head spin. He takes a car, not trusting himself to slow down on the corners enough to take the bike.

The GPS takes him to a building by the docks, normally active during the day but abandoned in the night. He parks a half block away as to not draw attention and slings his escrima sticks on his back, tugging them once to make sure that they were secure. He scales the shipping containers nearby and slinks out of sight of the security cameras, each muscle in his body primed to flex and twist on command. He balances on a high beam inside the main warehouse, pulling up his wrist where the red flashing dot of your phone blinked at him. He would probably have to buy you a new phone, considering the backdoor program he ran through your signal to track it made it virtually unusable.

He scanned the area, hairs on the back of his neck tingling at the lack of goons or suspiciously scarred individuals. With light feet he padded across the roofs of rusted shipping containers, feet as swift as his parents had taught and in the shadows like he had been trained. When he stood atop the rusted blue container in the left wing of the warehouse, his blue dot overlapped with the red.

He spun down, still glancing over his shoulder in case he was walking into a trap. The lock was newly purchased, indicating that you were indeed here. It popped open easily enough with the lock picks in his sleeve, the make and model a standard in many hardware stores. This could be easy, he could grab you, get you out of here and back into the apartment on the corner of fifth where you belonged-

it was you.

That's what he had to tell himself when the container door creaked open, and his flashlight sent a beam into the dark pit. He had seen bodies in the past, dead or dismembered or otherwise. Yet that didn't compare to the way that his stomach turned to stone in his abdomen just seeing you unconscious. HisHIHis feet thudded loudly as he raced towards you, gloved hands sliding down your bound arms to press against your wrist, his breathing as shallow as your pulse. He takes a deep breath and calms himself, cutting you from the chair you were tied to so he could cradle you in his arms and get a better look.

"I've got one at the docks, Wareson's shipping containers in Lower Gotham. They’re unconscious but alive." He speaks into his wrist, marking his channel as 'open' once more. It crackled to life soon after, Bruce's voice filtered through his earpiece.

"We've got a trace on a few others. Check for a calling card, Spoiler and Red Hood have found other hostages with codes attached, we might be able to get ahead of this." spoke the Bat, and Dick lowered you down gently to take a look.

His hands ghosted across your skin gently, so he didn't disturb any injuries, flashlight gripped in his teeth as he skimmed your clothes. Pulling a small square of cardboard from your blouse, he flipped the playing card over to reveal a bloodied joker and a string of numbers printed underneath.

"Sending an image now." He relayed, using his watch to take a photo and send it back to the cave. He shut his comm line off after that, his head reeling too much to focus in on the chatter from the rest of the team.

An injury to the right side of your head, against your temple. blunt force, left a cut on your hairline.

Your hair was normally a shade lighter than what it was right now.

Bruising around the throat, dark smears and indents in your skin. Evidence of friction marks.

Your necklaces never hurt you that way.

As he looked at you, your breath shallow, he felt that stone in his stomach grow hot. The way your eyelids were sealed shut with red crust, hair plastered to your head with the viscous liquid. Swelling around the lips that curved at him to smile or tell a joke. An arm that was folded the wrong way, the same arm that would tug his arm to hurry him up or reach out to his during sad parts in movies.

Right now, the vigilante Nightwing had failed you, but the one wearing the pain was the bent over form of civilian Dick Grayson.

His eyes tingled and burned, chest heaving before he knew it with scattered sobs. He calmed them down soon enough, the Bruce that lived in the back of his voice yelling at him to get it together, all while chanting over that same old sentence in tandem. 'I told you so. I told you so. I told you so.' The sadness didn't last long however, quickly being replaced with an anger that flushed the skin of his neck bright red. He lifted you up in his arms, beginning the slow walk back to the car so he didn't irritate your injuries. His steps echoed out in the silent warehouse, competing with the racing sound of his heartbeat. As he walked, he was so focused on counting the unsteady breaths you took that he didn’t notice the suit melding to his skin, consuming him with invisible teeth until the civilian part of Dick dissolved completely.

'I told you so.'

'I told you so.'

'I told you so.'

Dick wasn't made to be a civilian, despite how he wore their clothes and played the part of a happy townsperson. He concluded that you were bright enough to live the life of a civilian for both of you, revelling in the little moments of peace that his nighttime job had fought to preserve.

Dick was made to be a vigilante, Bruce turning his rage and anger at the world into a weapon, a tool to shape Gotham and carve out the parts that threatened the lives of innocent people.

Dick was about to show them just how well he had learned to wield that weapon.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

not going anywhere (FNaF Sun/Moon x Reader short oneshot)

hapy valntins, here's a short fluff piece based off my Afton Virus'd Reader AU, with a hint of unhinged clinginess on all sides <3

FNaF DCA x gender-neutral Reader One-shot, 1,118 words, fluff, implied romantic feelings, clingy obsessive possessive lovers

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You struggled to open your eyes, squinting and blinking several times before you could begin to make out shapes. Ah… you had fallen asleep at work again. You had promised you would get better about that, but… Well, they didn’t really seem to mind too much… In fact, some days their moods were improved after you spent a night dozing in their room…But you were fairly sure you had been down in maintenance doing paperwork, hadn’t you? So when had you…

You lifted an arm to rub at your eyes, looking around more clearly. You glanced down and breathed a quiet sigh, smiling despite yourself. Of course. They were your ever loyal companions, of course they must have gotten concerned when you failed to clock out or wish them good night as you left. And what caring person wouldn’t take their dear overworked friend to bed if they found them asleep at some cramped, poorly lit desk? And of course they had stayed to watch over you and make sure you slept well, that was their job. 

They really were too sweet for words. Altogether too kind to you, especially after everything you had been through together.

You reached down, gently straightening Moon’s cap with one hand. His eyes were shut, expression peaceful as he ‘slept’ so soundly, using your stomach as a pillow with his arms wound around you several times over. He was warm and heavy, but comfortably so, and it soothed your aching muscles to have the constant pressure of his weight bearing down on you. Even your hands didn’t ache so terribly when he held them. You took a deep breath, gently tracing the curve of his cheek, stroking beneath his eye with your thumb. He was pretty, though he would deny it- a work of art made life. You could look at him for hours and not grow tired. He had said the same of you, once, but you hadn’t been sure why or if he was even being honest. 

You looked around, seeing the sliver of light breaking through the curtains of the balcony. It must be morning by now, you mused, oddly disappointed. There wasn’t time to be lazing about, no matter how comfortable it was or how your head pounded at the thought of going back to the grindstone. You had work to do. You always had so much work to do…

You shook your head, attempting to shoo the thoughts away, and shuffled upward, slowly working yourself into a sitting position without disturbing your slumbering companion. It was still early, and they always fretted over you so much… It would be good for them to rest a while longer, wouldn’t it? You smoothed the ruffle under his chin before beginning the awkward shuffle out of his arms. You’d had plenty of practice at this point, with how often you ended up in this situation, but it was better to be cautious than to risk waking the sleeping jester. They could be quite clingy when they first woke. 

You pushed yourself onto your knees, grasping at the wall to get yourself on your feet.

“Darling,”

A hand traced up your back, the fingertips snagging in your shirt and grabbing a handful of the fabric in an unyielding grip, stopping you in your tracks. 

“where do you think you’re going?”

You were frozen for half a moment before you turned to look down. Moon was awake, one eye cracked open to fix you with a piercing red glare, one arm extended to hold you in place, half standing, only a few inches from where you had been sleeping. You let out a sigh of defeat, disappointed you hadn’t managed to slip away unnoticed, but smiled at him softly.

“Good morning, you two.”

He let out a low hum, his claws dragging against your shirt as he pulled you downward slowly until you were once more seated on the floor. He lifted himself up enough to creep closer, keeping his intense red gaze fixated on yours as he dragged you into his arms again. His other hand followed a similar path of the first, his claws gliding up your back to sink into the fabric just behind your shoulderblade as he laid on top of you once more. The sensation was featherlight but left a shudder going up your spine as the ticklish feeling lingered. 

“You didn’t answer our question, starlight.”

You sighed, gently petting the top of his head, rubbing his cheek as you repeated the movement several times. “I can’t stay. I have work to do.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes again. His hands adjusted their hold, gently working more fabric into his fists as his grip on you grew tighter. “Nonsense. No work today. Daycare is closed.”

You vaguely remembered hearing about a scheduled day off for this section. If you had remembered, you could have planned to do some of your work here… Lamenting over it wouldn’t help the fact that you still had to get up… “That sounds nice, Moon, but-”

“Sh. No buts.” He hissed quietly, pressing his fingertips into your back in a way that made you jump. 

“Moondrop…”

“No.” 

His voice grew sharp, firm, but his peaceful expression didn’t waver. Instead, he lifted a hand and covered your eyes, gently pressing you down until you were laying on your back, nearly consumed by blankets and pillows they kept here specifically for you. He opened one eye again, lifting his hand to meet your gaze for only a moment.

“Sleep, my star.”

He covered your eyes again, pressing his face to your temple in a gentle caress. He draped himself over you, tangling your legs in his as he laid his weight around you carefully, cocooning you in his embrace. 

“Rest, here.”

The darkness was soothing on your aching eyes, and your muscles felt worn and tired simply from your attempt to get up… Maybe it was still early. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you slept just another hour more. Just a little more sleep, so you would be able to work most efficiently. He wouldn’t insist if it wasn’t necessary. 

You let out a long sigh, relaxing into his unyielding, tender embrace. You felt rather than heard the chuckle that rose from his chest. You were putty in his hands, and oh did he know it. You closed your eyes, resting your forehead against his chest. 

“Alright. You’ll wake me in an hour, won’t you? There’s still so much to do…” You yawned, draping an arm over him. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his teeth, and you felt his smile.

“Of course, my starlight.” He lied. 

[vonbabbitt]

i found the chiba loredrop i sent to my staff thirty years ago. enjoy

CHIBA!!!! so chiba was born in a pretty broke family as an only child. she was always a super peppy kid with a lot of energy and so she made friends pretty easily and generally had a good time. she got along with her dad but he wasnt super involved, mostly the type that sees child-rearing as a woman's job and left most of the work to chiba's mom while he did Guy Stuff like drink and watch tv and go to work and sometimes chat with his daughter! chibas mom was also very old-fashioned so she didnt mind because she had pretty much the same mindset! so she'd do the cooking and cleaning and raising chiba while her dad would just kinda go to work and hang around. they were mad broke. neither of her parents were SUPER affectionate towards her and her mom was a bit more focused with making sure she stayed out of trouble than making sure she was happy, so while she was allowed to go run around and be a kid, she wasnt really allowed to do anything that would get her super dirty or disturb her parents

when chiba was about four, her mom got this idea in her head that she would be a fantastic child actor (and it would also pull their family out of debt which would be great!) so she starts taking chiba to auditions and local theatre and trying to get her an agent and such and such. chibas not really into acting but she likes meeting all the new people and she likes playing pretend so she really doesnt mind! except soon the push for chiba to act starts working and she starts getting cast in stuff. shes cute and extroverted and energetic so of course shed be good in an instant noodle commercial or whatever tf. the point is that she starts getting work and starts appearing on tv! her family starts making a bit of money and her mom starts pushing HARD to get her into bigger roles. this means that she also starts getting a lot stricter. chiba gets pulled out of school because theres no time for school when she has to be on set. tutours only. her mom starts making sure she's always dressed well and her hair is always neat and shes always clean and tidy and most importantly, always smiling! because its cute and makes her look approachable and pleasant to work with!

so by the time chiba is six, the push is going well. shes getting minor roles in random shows here and there, usually as an extra or minor character, nothing super massive but its definitely something. shes honestly kind of over the whole thing by now though. she misses being at school and seeing her friends. she misses getting to go out and play whenever she wants. she does not really like acting! but money is coming in fast and offers are coming in fast and her mom is not ready to lose the good life quite yet. her dad doesnt really notice or care cuz hes not that involved. but chiba is starting to burn out and its starting to show in her performance. her mom does basically everything she can think of - shes taking her to extra acting classes, shes trying to bribe her with toys and gifts, shes scolding her for not being upbeat enough - nothing is really working for her, sooooooo

at age seven, chibas mom puts her on caffeine pills! its fine cuz theyre only caffeine its not like its meth or anything.......is chibas moms defence. but chiba starts taking caffeine pills to boost her performance and now shes back in action. shes usually pretty exhausted but the important part is that shes awake and shes peppy and shes acting. huzzah!

so chiba is getting more and more popular and shes ending up on a lot of TV shows, usually shows aimed at other kids, which she thinks is neat because its almost like shes talking to other kids again but not really but still! so shes doing a lot of television and her family is making BIG money now. they move to a very nice place in kyoto on chiba's dime and from there her career is allowed to REALLY skyrocket because shes basically living in the media capitol now. shes on set constantly, her face is everywhere and shes hustling hard. its around age nine that chiba starts getting a bit bigger (because. yknow, age) and her mom does not love that. if chibas entire appeal is that shes a little angel baby girl, how can she get bigger? shes gotta stay small! so this is where chibas mom has a super brilliant idea: chiba should start smoking! nicotine is an appetite suppressant and chiba needs to keep thin, so smoking it is! chiba ABSOLUTELY FUCKING HATES IT, which she expresses, but then her mom cries and starts going on about how horrible of a mother she is and chiba feels bad so THE SMOKING BEGINS.

when chiba gets to be about twelve, her career is in full swing and shes picked up her first regular sitcom role as a lead, which is huge news. her family is ROLLING in money now and theres no way theyre ever going to give that up so shes basically locked into the industry for life. the only problem is that......shes twelve! so now puberty begins! chiba realizes her body is starting to change and FLIPS THE FUCK OUT BECAUSE SHE NEEDS TO LOOK LIKE A KID FOREVER THATS HER ENTIRE APPEAL IN THE INDUSTRY. sooooooo

chiba starts taking diet pills! now on a steady diet of diet pills, caffeine and cigarettes, you can probably imagine that chibas doing just fkin fantastic! shes a good actor of course, so very little of this ever goes noticed by anyone, because she does a very good job of appearing cheerful and peppy and healthy! but the fact is that shes horribly, HORRIBLY malnourished and exhausted and suffering from a lot of physical and mental health problems. however, shes making a LOT of money, so her mom just keeps encouraging her to keep going and telling her how happy their family is now that they have money and crying every time chiba talks about wanting to quit until chiba feels guilty and backs down. huzzah!

chiba is basically dead inside by this point. she just feels empty and sad and hungry all the time. this is when she starts realizing that the world she gets to live in on her sitcom - happy mom, happy dad, two big brothers who love her, funny plots and family love and yadda yadda - is a lot more appealing than her actual life! so if she could just be that character in that world forever, wouldnt that be awesome? so thats basically what she does! chiba starts just kinda playing pretend all the time. shes a little girl! life is good as a little girl! shes happy as a little girl! nothing bad or scary ever happens to her on tv, so if she can be that person from tv, nothing bad or scary will ever happen to her in real life either! all those insecurities she has about her body? her huge huge fear of ever appearing adult or being looked at in an adult way? no problem! shes a little girl!

+5 years and then shes in the killing game

[merrybloomwrites]

We Know Where We Belong

Summary: When your brother starts working with Harry Styles, you're so excited to see him accomplishing his dreams. What you don't expect is the way this will change your life, and all for the better.

It may take time to get your happy ending with Harry, but when you do, the wait is completely worth it.

Word Count: 9.4K

CW: attempted assault leading to injury that needs surgery, allusions to sex, pregnancy & mention of childbirth

AN: I started this last June and it was originally just supposed to be a cute family story about reader as Mitch's sister, but then decided I wanted to make it a Harry x reader instead.

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Your whole life, you always looked up to your two big brothers. Beckett is the oldest, thirteen years older than you, and one of your first memories is of him getting his first car when he was sixteen. He was always nice to you when he was around, but truthfully that wasn’t a lot. He had his group of friends that he always went to hang out with, and he left for college when you were only five years old. 

Mitch was the opposite, hanging home most of the time, though often hidden in his room. There was always music playing, whether from his radio, or from his guitar. He was always practicing, and you thought he was the best guitar player in the whole world. Sometimes, when Beckett was out, Mitch would play on his drum kit. You were sworn to secrecy, which didn’t always suit you. As the little sister, the baby of the family, you felt it was your duty to stir the pot. But when Mitch promised to teach you guitar in exchange for you staying quiet about the drums, you had to agree. 

The guitar lessons were your favorite activity. Mitch would teach you different skills, always patient when you needed extra help to understand something. Plus, you got to watch him play, and he would test out new song ideas on you. It wasn’t the best idea if he wanted constructive feedback, since you thought everything he played was the coolest thing ever, but it made you feel so special that he trusted you so much.

When Mitch got his driver's license, the first thing he did was take you to get ice cream. Instead of disappearing with friends all the time like Beckett had done, Mitch would take you on some sort of outing each week. But his schedule started to fill up with school, and work, and practicing music with some other boys in the neighborhood. Though he still made sure to hang with you, your guitar lessons and trips to the ice cream parlor started to become less frequent. 

And then he left for college. And you tried to ignore your sadness at how much you missed him. You got into new hobbies which kept you busy and introduced you to new friends. You continued practicing guitar, and all your hard work paid off when Mitch came home to visit and was impressed by your progress. He was always there for your big moments, like when you won the spelling bee and that time your softball team went all the way to states. 

He came back home for a bit after college, but he spent most of his time working and practicing music. You were busy as well, having grown to love your extracurriculars and you had a solid friend group that you were always hanging out with.

But when Mitch announced he was moving to Los Angeles you were devastated. Him going to college was hard enough, and he was only two hours away. But California? This time you didn’t hide your feelings. To fourteen old you, this was the end of the world. Instead of hanging with his friends the night before he left, he spent it at home, having a movie marathon and reassuring you that he’d never be more than a phone call away.

It was hard saying good-bye, but you were proud of him for following his dreams. Your high school years both dragged on and flew by at the same time, and before you knew it you were getting college acceptance letters. While your friends were excited for their Ivy League acceptances or admittance to the biggest party schools, you had your eyes set on one place in particular. 

You called Mitch when the letter came, opening it on Facetime. You screamed in excitement when you saw the words “You’re In!” 

It was official. You were going to UCLA, and were going to live in the same city as Mitch.

Of course your parents worried about their eighteen year old moving so far away, but knowing your brother was close by eased their fears. You flew out that summer, working a waitress job and staying with Mitch who insisted he sleep on the couch so you could have his room. He pretended to be put out and annoyed, but you could tell he was happy to have you there.

And then he got the call. The big break he’d been waiting and working his whole life for. He didn’t tell you the details at first, since you were both busy and didn’t see each other much over those first few days. He mentioned he was working in the studio, but that was all. It wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that you two finally had some time together to hang out. 

“How’s the new gig?” You ask. 

“Honestly, it’s pretty sick. I’m working with Harry Styles,” he replies casually. 

You stare at him for a moment, thinking you must have misheard him. No way has your brother been working with Harry Styles for the past week. 

“Are you serious?” You finally ask. 

“Yea.”

“Harry Styles?”

“Yes.”

“From One Direction?”

“Mhmm.”

“Mitch! Are you serious?”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m completely serious. Why?”

“Why? Because it’s Harry Styles! You’ve met him? You’re working with him? Mitch this is insane! He’s like- he so- oh my god!”

“I’m not following,” Mitch says after your outburst. 

“Mitch, Harry is from one of the biggest boy bands in the world! I was obsessed with them! How do you not know this? And he was always my favorite. And then he grew his hair out and got even hotter.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you but he just cut it.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re lying.”

“Sorry, but no. He went yesterday, here,” Mitch says and pulls up a picture on his phone. It is without a doubt Harry, his long locks gone. It takes a minute to get used to but you finally reply, “Well, he still looks damn good.”

“Glad to know you’re thirsting over my boss,” he says in a teasing voice. 

“Your boss. That’s so bizarre.”

“You want to meet him?”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Stop asking that.”

“I mean, obviously I want to meet him!”

“Ok. I’ll talk to him. Maybe you can visit the studio next week.”

“Holy shit. Wait. No. Don’t do that.”

“So you don’t want to meet him?”

“I do! But no! Cause that’s terrifying.”

Mitch laughs at that and asks, “How is that terrifying? He’s super nice. Very chill. I promise.”

“Ok fine. Yes, I'd like to come and meet him.”

“Then I’ll set it up.”

“Can I ask about the music you guys are working on?”

“You can ask. But I’m probably not supposed to say anything yet. Maybe you can get a little preview when you visit,” Mitch says.

The two of you continue to talk, though Mitch is reluctant to share more details about Harry or his work. 

You’re busy with your job most of the week, but somehow manage to get Friday off, which is perfect because Mitch has set it up for you to come visit the studio and meet the others. 

You head over with your brother mid-morning, and ignore the way he’s teasing you. Of course you’re nervous to meet Harry Styles, but does Mitch really need to point that out?

Luckily Harry isn’t there when you arrive at the studio, giving you some time to look around at all the equipment. Mitch asks you to tune one of the guitars for him and you do so happily, enjoying having something to focus on.

When you finish that, Mitch grabs another guitar and the two of you play together for a couple minutes. It feels like all those times back home, and any anxiety you had earlier has melted away.

When you finish the song you’re playing you hear someone clapping behind you. The person then says, “Good to know there’s a backup Rowland if we ever need one.” 

Your eyes go comically wide as you realize the person behind you is none other than Harry Styles. Thankfully your brother decides to have pity on you, and instead of teasing you he simply says, “Harry, I’d like you to meet my sister, Y/N.”

You stand and turn, and Harry says, “Hello Y/N, I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you.” He puts out his hand and you reach forward to shake it, and reply, “It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“While I’d love to chat a bit more, I had this idea last night and I’m itching to get started. You’re free to hang out. It’s pretty casual here. And then maybe you and Mitch can join me for dinner tonight?”

“Sounds good,” you say. “Thank you for letting me watch today, I’m excited to see what you guys are working on.”

“Of course. It’s good to have an audience, get some feedback.”

With that, you take a seat and spend the next couple of hours watching with fascination as they work. The time passes quickly and before you know it you’re seated with Harry and your brother at a nearby restaurant. 

It’s a great evening, and while you’d been nervous to meet Harry, you quickly discover that wasn’t necessary. He’s so friendly and welcoming, and the two of you keep getting lost in conversation, Mitch occasionally managing to get a few words in. But he doesn’t mind. He’s just interested in watching the two of you interact, keeping a big brother eye out. 

After stretching out the meal as long as possible you and Mitch say goodbye to Harry. You don’t expect the hug Harry gives you, and you really don’t expect it to be so prolonged. But you’re not complaining. 

Mitch, however, has some questions once the two of you get home.

“So, what’d you think of Harry?” he asks.

“He’s nice,” you answer simply.

“That’s all? You don’t have a major crush on him or anything?”

You roll your eyes and reply, “Of course I do. Who wouldn’t? He’s attractive, talented, kind. Pretty much the whole package.”

“I just don’t want you getting your feelings hurt.”

“I know. And I promise this is just a silly crush. I’m not gonna act on it and like, lose my mind and ask him out. Plus I’m sure these feelings will pass if I spend more time with him.”

As it turns out, your feelings do not pass. Over the next couple of weeks you see Harry on occasion, and each time, those feelings only grow. You just love everything about him. And he always makes you feel special, and happy. 

When you move into the dorms to start freshman year, Harry is there to help carry your things inside. He texts you after your first day asking how your classes are going. He checks in, and he sends food to your dorm that weekend to celebrate a successful first week.

And then he leaves. Well, him and his whole team, including your brother, for a two month writing retreat in Jamaica. You’re sad to be left behind and to have to say goodbye to them, but college is keeping you busy. While you miss them a bit, you’re focused on classes and you’ve made a great group of friends, so you don’t really have time to dwell on it.

That being said, you are excited when they come back. 

You spend time with both Mitch and Harry, but midterm season is a lot, so you tend to be hunkered down in the library or your dorm studying.

Even when your exams are finished, you still have one project hanging over you, so you spend one more evening focused at the library. You finally complete and submit it, and check the clock for the first time in hours, surprised to see it’s almost 10PM. 

You quickly pack up your things and head out, not wanting to interact with the library worker who would kick you out if you stay another five minutes.

It’s a quiet night on campus as you walk back to your dorm, and you’re enjoying the fresh air when all of a sudden someone roughly grabs and twists your arm. You turn in shock and the man pulls you off the path and into a dark alley.

Through the panic in your mind, you can’t help but think of how much of a cliched situation you’ve gotten into. But then he twists your arm even harder and you cry out in pain. That’s when his mouth roughly covers yours, both to try and quiet you, and to start what he’s obviously trying to do to you. 

Refusing to give in you do the one piece of self defense you can think of, and knee him in the balls as hard as you can. It works, and he backs away, but not before shoving you back so your head hits the wall. You cry out in pain, and thankfully that is heard by a group of students walking by. 

Two girls rush over to help you while a few boys surround your attacker, ensuring he can’t get away. 

“Hey, let’s sit for a minute,” one of the girls says and helps you to the ground. You can hear the other girl on the phone, presumably to get emergency services there. 

“Is there someone you want us to call?” 

“Uhm, yea. My brother.” You take a deep breath, trying to keep the panic and shock at bay in order to open your phone and click on Mitch’s contact.

It rings, and Mitch answers with a cheerful, “Hey, what’s up?”

For some reason, hearing his voice breaks through the barriers you’re trying to build, and you start to cry, too hard to even get any words out.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks, now clearly panicked. 

Realizing you won’t be able to explain, the girl wraps an arm around you and takes the phone, saying, “Hi, my name is Layla. My friends and I were walking on campus and heard a commotion. Your sister, she uhm, there was a guy. I think he hurt her arm, and uhm-” she stops for a moment and turns to you, asking if you were hurt anywhere else.

“Yea. My head. He hit it against the wall,” you manage to explain.

She nods and turns back to the phone, “She says he hurt her head as well.”

You don’t hear Mitch’s response but then Layla says, “I’ll send you a message with our location, hold on. Okay there, you should be able to find us. We have police and an ambulance on the way. My friends and I will stay with her.”

A moment later the phone is handed back to you. The call is still going so you put it up to your ear to hear Mitch say, “We’re on our way. We’re just down the street, we'll be there soon, I promise.” 

“Okay,” you choke out through your tears. 

It’s relatively calm for a minute or two, and then the scene becomes chaotic. The police and ambulance both arrive, and a moment later so does Mitch. You’re so happy to see him that it takes you a moment to realize Harry is there as well. 

You reach out your uninjured arm to your brother and he quickly sits beside you. He holds your hand and gently strokes your hair out of your face, wanting to comfort you but still way of any injuries you have. 

“Hi, I’m Colleen,” says a paramedic as she crouches down to your level. Before she can say anything else there’s a commotion. The police officers are cuffing your attacker and leading him to the car. 

As this happens, the man looks at you and shouts, “This is all the stupid sluts fault! You bitch!”

You turn to Mitch and tuck yourself into his chest to hide, but still hear the voices around you all yelling at the man to drown him out. One voice stands out, and Harry clearly says, “You’d better stop talking right now, or you’re going to regret it.”

“Harry!” Mitch shouts, calling him off before he can make an even bigger scene. Mitch knows that Harry Styles attacking anyone, even such a lowlife, would not do well for his image. 

Harry quickly walks over and kneels on the ground. You pull away from Mitch a bit and Harry gently places a hand on your cheek and asks, “Are you alright?” The concern is clear on his face, and though you’ve been friends for months, you're still surprised by the intensity of how much he cares for you right now. 

“I’m okay,” you say quietly. “Just wanna go home.”

“I’m sorry,” Colleen says beside you. “By the looks of that arm you’ll need a stop at the hospital first. And I’m told you hit your head as well so we’ll need to check that too.”

Harry steps back to let the paramedics do their work, and you pout at the distance. Your tears return as they splint your arm, and the next thing you know you’re being placed on a stretcher. 

Before they can get you in the ambulance, a police officer walks over and asks for your statement. 

“Does this have to be done right now?” Harry asks.

“We can wait up to 48 hours, but it’s best to do it now. It’s easier to get it done, and the memory is most fresh now,” the officer explains. 

“It’s alright, I’d rather just get it over with,” you say. 

You tell them exactly what happened, your grip on Mitch’s hand tightening as you do so. By the time you’re done explaining, tears are rolling down your cheeks again and your brother gently wipes them away. Harry turns his back to you, but not before you see the angry expression he’s obviously trying to hide.

You look at Mitch and see that his expression is mostly concerned, but he’s definitely mad as well. That’s when you realize that up until now, you hadn’t mentioned the man forcing himself on you. But now that Harry and Mitch know about the kiss, their worst fear is confirmed. This wasn’t a mugging, or someone trying to scare you. No, this man had nefarious plans, and if Layla and her friends weren’t nearby, this would have ended so much worse.

“Thank you,” the officer says, pulling you out of your swirling thoughts. “We have your contact information and we’ll be in touch with any updates or further questions.”

Colleen speaks next, saying, “Let’s get you taken care of so you can get home, hm?”

“Sounds good to me,” you reply, comforted by her calm and straightforward demeanor. 

“Which hospital?” Harry asks, and after hearing the reply, says, “Great, I’ll meet you guys there.”

The next few hours are a blur, and yet also pass in slow motion. Even with Harry pulling strings, it takes forever to get the tests and scans needed. And while you get the good news that you don’t have a concussion, it turns out your arm is worse than expected.

You have what you’re told is called a Galezzi fracture, so not only is the bone broken, but there’s a dislocation at your wrist as well. The worst part is that this requires surgery to fix. But at least it’s considered emergent, and after a few more tests, you’re taken into surgery. 

By that evening you find yourself settling into a comfy bed at Harry’s home. You’re quite fuzzy on the details, since the pain meds in the hospital are rather strong, but Mitch explains that your surgery went great and there was no need for you to stay overnight. And apparently Harry insisted that you all stay with him for a little while, since his place is most secure. 

It’s not even dinnertime, and yet you’re exhausted. Mitch helps you settle in bed and says, “Get some rest. I might run to the store to grab ingredients to make grandma’s soup, but I shouldn’t be gone long, and Harry is downstairs if you need him.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and you’re completely unaware of the conversation happening downstairs.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?” Mitch asks, sitting down at the kitchen table across from Harry who’s sipping a cup of tea.

“Yea, of course,” Harry replies.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for all of your help since last night. But you’ve really gone out of your way for me and Y/N. I mean, coming with me, staying with us all night at the hospital, and now having us stay with you? It’s very kind of you, but it’s also a lot. It’s more than I could expect.”

“Mitch, I don’t mind at all. It’s truly not a bother. I have the means to help, and, well I care about you and Y/N.”

They sit quietly for a moment, then Mitch says, “Y/N likes you. The only reason I’m telling you is because those drugs they gave her are pretty strong and I’m almost positive she’s going to spill the beans in the next day or two. But she does. You were her celebrity crush, and she swears that she doesn’t see you the same way anymore. But now I think it’s just a normal crush on a guy she’s friends with. And here you are, as a knight in shining armor, taking care of her after a traumatic experience. I just don’t want her getting hurt.”

“I promise, I would never hurt her,” Harry says emphatically. 

“I know. I also know that I’d kill you if you ever did. I don’t care that you are my friend and my boss.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Harry says, thinking of his own sister and how he’d react in that situation.

“Just, let her down easy, okay?”

Harry is silent again before finally asking, “Can I be honest here?”

“Of course,” Mitch says, curious to hear what comes next.

“I uhm, I like Y/N too. I know that she’s my best friend's sister and all, but I’ve liked her since that first time she visited the studio. But my life is so complicated right now, and I’ve been trying to keep my distance and keep my feelings at bay, but they’re definitely there. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Take me out of the equation,” Mitch says. “I know people say not to date friend’s siblings, but don’t let me hold you back. Obviously I wouldn’t recommend asking her out until she’s recovered from this situation, and you should figure out if it could work with the tour you’re planning. But, I think you’re a good guy. And, uh, I think you and Y/N could be happy together.” 

Silence falls over the pair again. Seeing that Harry is deep in thought, Mitch says, “I’ll let you ponder on that a bit. Is it okay if I run to the store? I told Y/N that you’d be here if she needs anything.”

“Absolutely, of course that’s fine. See you in a bit.”

Harry continues to sit at the table, after Mitch has left, after he’s finished his tea; he sits there and thinks about the conversation with Mitch.

The only thing to break him out of his reveries is the sound of someone in distress. He stands up and immediately heads to the stairs, running up them two at a time when he hears you cry out again. He walks into the bedroom at the exact moment when you finally wake up from your nightmare. 

For a moment he stands there, waiting for you to indicate what you need. At the same time you freeze, reorienting to where you are. Once your brain finally catches up, you reach out to Harry with your good arm. He understands your request for comfort and sits next to you, carefully helping you shift so you can settle in his arms. 

He holds you gently, wiping away the tears that have started falling once again. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you, love.” You slowly relax until you’re able to fall back to sleep, cuddled against Harry. 

When Mitch arrives home he unloads the groceries and promptly checks on you. He’s surprised to see Harry in bed with you and whispers, “Everything alright?”

Harry nods and replies, “Yea, she had a bad dream but she’s good now.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Mitch leaves, and Harry continues to hold you, imagining what it would be like to be able to wrap his arms around you in better circumstances. 

He desires a relationship with you, has for months now. But he knows it wouldn’t be fair to start something when he’s planning to travel so much so soon. He can’t ask you to leave school and come with him, but he can’t leave you behind. 

As you continue to sleep, he comes to the conclusion that the time isn’t right. He’ll release his album, do his tour, and then he can ask you out.

It’s a smart decision. But it’s one he’ll regret for years to come. 

Early the next year, Harry is busier than ever, getting everything ready for his album release. He’s put together a band that he’s excited to perform with, each member showing extreme talent while still remaining down to earth. 

Your arm has healed, but the nature of the injury has made your left hand weaker. No matter how much you try, you can’t play guitar the way you used to. You simply don’t have enough strength in your left hand to press down hard enough on the strings to make the clear sound needed.

You spend time at the studio, watching the band practice and then practicing yourself when they finish. Mitch stays with you, trying to help you retrain your hand, but even with the physical therapy you’ve been doing, you just can’t get it. 

The others are aware of your struggle as well, and all give encouragement. But it’s Sarah who does more and says, “Have you tried drums? You don't need quite as much strength in your fingers, just need to be able to hold the sticks. 

The three of you stay for hours that evening as Mitch and Sarah work together to teach you the basics. It’s fun, and therapeutic, and you can’t help but feel that you may be playing matchmaker. You know your brother, and it’s easy to see the way he looks at Sarah, how he acts around her. 

And from what you can tell, Sarah feels the same way. You admit you’d love for that to be true. Sarah is so nice, and always makes you feel at ease. You wouldn’t mind having her join the family, and it would be nice to finally have another girl around. 

But as always, the next journey begins. Harry, Mitch, and all the others have a busy year ahead of them. 

They leave to travel the world and play concerts for all of Harry’s adoring fans. You dive into your studies, and by the end of the fall semester of sophomore year, you’re happy to report to Mitch that you have a boyfriend. 

It’s amazing how quickly time can fly. Life has changed throughout your time in college, and you’re now in the fall semester of senior year. 

Mitch has helped Harry with his second album, which will be released in just a couple of months. Just like last time, you occasionally got to hear songs as they were being written, giving feedback but mostly being amazed. 

Unfortunately, your boyfriend was not all that happy with you spending time at the studio. After nearly two years together, his bad side reared its ugly head, in the most unexpected way. The last thing you thought you’d see when bringing coffee to his dorm was him in bed with another girl. And yet, that’s exactly what you walked in on.

The fight that ensues isn’t pretty, and it ends with you single and heartbroken, immediately making your way to the studio where Harry and his band are rehearsing. 

“What’s wrong?” Mitch asks the second you walk in.

“Nothing,” you state, clearly lying.

“Liar,” Mitch replies.

“I broke up with Aaron.”

At this news, Mitch and Sarah sit on either side of you on the couch. The rest of the band heads to another room to take a break. And Harry, well, he seems busy, fiddling with a notebook nearby.

“What happened, love?” Sarah asks as she wraps an arm around your shoulders, God, you’re grateful to have her in your life right now.

“I caught him in bed with another girl,” you explain.

If you weren’t so upset, Mitch and Harry’s reactions would probably be comical. 

“He did what?” they shout in unison, clearly outraged on your behalf. You expected this from your brother, but you’re thrown by how angry Harry is. 

“I was bringing him coffee, because he said he was working on a project. That ‘project’ ended up being named Margo. And it turns out he lied to her because she was very surprised to find out there was a girlfriend. So he’s the only asshole here. Margo punched him in the dick, so that was appreciated.”

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Sarah says.

You want to brush it off, say you’re fine. But it’s not. “Two years together and he just goes and does this? I mean, I thought he was the one! That we’d get married and have kids and all that shit. And now I have to start over?”

“At least you found the truth now before wasting any of your time,” Sarah says.

“You’re young, you have plenty of time to find someone who isn’t a total dick,” Mitch adds. 

“Ugh, I guess you’re right. But,” you pause, collecting your thoughts before saying, “But why wasn’t I enough for him?”

“Hey, don’t even think like that,” Harry says. “You are more than enough. He isn’t good enough for you, you understand me?”

Once again taken aback by his intensity, you nod to show that you’re listening. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Harry says.

“What? Go where? You guys are in the middle of rehearsal.”

“We rehearsed all day yesterday, we’ll rehearse all day tomorrow. We can end a bit early today. I bet everyone could use a night off. We’ll go out, get some food, get some drinks, it’ll be fun!” 

And that’s how you find yourself in the middle of an L.A. nightclub on a Thursday night, grateful that your schedule for this semester does not include any Friday classes. Because while the night starts pretty tame, things… escalate.

You’re newly 21, and heartbroken, and you’ve had drinks in hand all night, though you haven’t bought a single one for yourself. It’s the perfect formula for things to get crazy. 

Mitch and Sarah head out after a couple hours. They worry about leaving you, but you reassure them a dozen times that you’ll be fine, and Harry tells them he’ll keep an eye on you. That’s enough for them to leave you alone with Harry. In your tipsy state you admit to yourself that this is, in fact, the desired outcome.

You thought you’d gotten over this crush years ago, but being here with him, recently single and a few drinks deep, you know that was a lie. You’d simply pushed down your feelings, told yourself you only liked him as a friend.

And then a song comes on that you love, and you pull Harry out to the dance floor. He goes willingly, happy that you’re no longer in a relationship and he doesn’t need to feel bad about being attracted to you. He hasn’t had much to drink, since his goal for the night is to make sure you’re safe and having a good time, but he’s had enough to feel a little loose. 

Which explains why his hands find your waist just seconds after yours loop around his neck. He pulls you close, until you’re nearly flush against him. The two of you get lost in the music, moving together to the beat, unaware that you’re pulling each other closer. 

It isn’t until his lips brush against yours that you realize your proximity. But neither of you pull away. Instead, Harry presses forward, his lips meeting yours in a surprisingly sweet kiss. It only lasts a second and then he’s gone, stepping back and saying, “We shouldn’t.”

You know he’s right, and part of you feels rejected. But another part of you rejoices in the fact that he kissed you. Not the other way around. Your mind wanders with possibilities, the possibility that he likes you, that he finds you attractive. Maybe he really does want you, but he’s being a gentleman. Afterall, you’ve been drinking, and you just got broken up with. 

This theory is backed by the fact that he still has a hand on your waist, making sure he remains in contact even just a little bit. 

“It’s getting late. We should get going,” he says next.

You pout and say, “Don’t wanna go back to my dorm.”

“Mitch and Sarah’s then?” He suggests.

“So I can see them being annoyingly in love? I’d rather not.”

“Okay. Do you want to stay in my guest room?” he asks, and you light up at the suggestion.

“Yes, please!” you say excitedly. You’ve spent some time at his place, having slept in that bed before after events at his house, and it’s the comfiest, coziest bed you’ve ever slept in. It’s exactly where you want to end this long, emotional day.

Harry picks up his phone and after a minute, says, “Cars on it’s way. Let’s get some water and head outside.” You follow his lead and soon find yourself next to him in the back of a luxurious car. You’re starting to get sleepy, and without thinking about it, you rest your head on Harry’s shoulder. With your eyes now closed, you miss the warm smile that spreads across his face at the gesture. 

A little while later you arrive at his house, and he wraps an arm around you to help you inside. He briefly ducks into his room and comes back with some clothes for you to wear to bed. 

“Go get ready, I’m gonna grab a couple things and leave them in the guest room for you,” he says. 

You go to the hallway bathroom to get changed and do a cut back version of your bedtime routine. When you get to the room, Harry is there placing water, snacks, and some painkillers on the bedside table. Noticing you look at him he says, “Just in case you need anything,” as explanation. “I’ll be in my room if there’s anything else you need.”

He goes to leave but you ask, “Can you stay? For a little while, I mean. Just until I fall asleep?”

His face goes soft at the request, and he replies, “Of course, love.”

You climb into bed, surrounded by the softest blankets in the world. Harry sits on top of the covers, his hand moving to stroke your hair until you quickly fall asleep. He stays for a little bit to make sure you’re really out, then presses a barely there kiss to your head before pulling himself away and going to his own room.

The next morning you wake up feeling better than you should considering how hard you went the night before. You still eat the granola bar that Harry left and take the pain relievers, downing the rest of the water as you do so. 

You sit there and can’t help but think about all the people who would kill to be in your position. Relaxing in Harry Styles’ bed, having kissed him the night before. God, you cannot believe you and Harry had actually kissed. You’d been single mere hours and already kissed another man. 

You’re conflicted by this. You’d spent years with Aaron, thought he was the man you’re going to marry. But you have to be honest, there was always a part of you that remained attracted to Harry. You know that you probably would have left Aaron if you had any chance with Harry, and that leaves you feeling incredibly guilty. 

Picking up your phone you see a number of texts and missed calls from Mitch. Without even reading through everything you text him saying, “I’m fine, crashed at Harry’s. Can you come pick me up?”

He replies, “On my way,” almost immediately. 

You wait a few minutes before heading downstairs, knowing you’ll see Harry but now knowing what to say. You finally suck it up and leave the guest room, bumping into him almost immediately in the hallway.

“Hey. Good morning. How are you feeling?” he says.

“Good, I’m good. Thanks for looking out for me last night. It was fun.”

“Yea, it was a good night. Can I make you some breakfast?” 

“Oh, that’s okay. Mitch will be here in a couple of minutes,” you reply. 

“Got it. That’s good then.”

The two of you stand there awkwardly, more timid around each other than usual. You can only assume he’s ignoring the kiss that happened just like you are. 

Thankfully your phone dings with a message that your brother is there.

“Guess I should get going,” you say.

“Of course, I’ll let you out.”

Harry walks with you to the front door, but before he opens it he turns to you and says, “I know it’s hard to heal from a breakup, so just, you know- I’m always here for you. If you need anything.”

It’s shockingly earnest, and takes you by surprise. This man who is more busy than anyone you know, willing to help you through a broken heart. You don’t know what to say so you just wrap your arms around his neck in a quick hug. He’s barely returned the gesture when you pull away, thanking him once again and heading out the door and into your brother’s car. 

Mitch waves to Harry as you buckle your seatbelt, and once you’re ready, he starts driving. 

“So what happened last night?” he asks. 

“Nothing.” 

“Y/N.” 

“I mean, not nothing. But like, nothing to worry about. So don’t worry about it.”

“Okay well now I am worrying.”

“It’s fine!” 

Silence falls over the two of you, an awkward air permeating the car. It wears you down, and finally you break and exclaim, “Okay, fine! Harry and I kissed! But just like, a little bit. So tiny. Like, blink and you miss it. So it’s no big deal, got it?”

“Oh shit,” is his only reply.

The silence is back, and has you feeling restless. 

“Mitch?”

“Yea?”

“Are you mad?” you ask.

“What? No,” he answers immediately. “I’m not mad. But you just had your heart broken. And any relationship with Harry would be complicated, especially a rebound.”

“He’s not a rebound! I like him. It was just one kiss. That’s all. I don’t plan on going further, I swear.”

“Okay. Did you have breakfast? I can make pancakes.”

“Pancakes sound good,” you answer, once again grateful for your brother who knows exactly how to support you through anything. 

Pancakes with Mitch and Sarah are just what you need. And when you do go back to campus and tell your friends what happened, they help you even more by cursing Aaron’s name, saying they’ll make sure word gets out that he’s a cheater.

You move on from that relationship, but no one new catches your eye. You’re finishing your second to last semester at college, starting to focus on job hunting, and spending time with your brother, Harry, and the band before Fine Line’s release in December.

They’re busy of course, but take a break for the holidays before picking things back up in the new year. You’re prepared to say goodbye to them for months, so it comes as a shock when a pandemic shuts down the world and leads to you moving in with Mitch and Sarah when your dorm closes. 

After only a couple weeks Harry moves in as well. He’d been living alone in his big house and you all knew it was weighing on him. He is clearly relieved to be staying with people, and the four of you make the most of this time in lockdown. 

Since the house isn’t that big, Harry ends up sleeping on the pull out couch in the living room. This naturally leads to the two of you spending a lot of late evenings together watching movies after Mitch and Sarah have called it a night. You guys both make fun of them for becoming an old married couple, but they clearly don’t mind the teasing.

You and Harry grow even closer during this time. Since your classes have switched to online, and Harry rarely has anything scheduled, you tend to stay up late talking about anything and everything. 

May comes, the world still shut down, and you officially graduate college. Mitch, Sarah, and Harry manage to surprise you with a graduation celebration to mark the big occasion. As always, you and Harry stay up late, talking about hopes and dreams and big plans. All the things that a graduation has people thinking about.

It’s even later than usual, and you and Harry end up sliding closer and closer as the minutes tick by. Just like the time at the club, you don’t notice how close you’ve gotten until you feel Harry’s breath ghost across your skin. 

This time you do pull back, just enough to look in Harry’s eyes and confirm he wants this too. When you see the determination there, you lean in again. There’s a slight pause, just enough to build the tension, and then your lips brush. 

And then you hear a noise, jumping back a second before Sarah walks in the room. The three of you look at each other, no one speaking a word for an agonizingly long time.

“Just grabbing some water,” Sarah says as she walks to the kitchen. 

When she walks back through the living room to go upstairs you feel you need to explain and say, “We were just talking. Lost track of time.”

“I’m sure you did,” she replies with a knowing smirk before she walks away. 

The moment having passed, you say, “I should probably get to bed.”

“I guess so,” Harry answers as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle contact makes you blush and he says, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry,” you reply.

You lay in bed, thinking about how close you came to kissing once again. It was clear he wanted it, and there was no alcohol to blame this time. You’ve been single for months, you start a totally virtual job soon, and all the reasons for staying away from Harry in the past, don’t seem like reasons anymore. 

You remember years ago promising Mitch you would never ask Harry out, but now you’re determined to break that promise. Your brother will understand. You hope.

The next day Sarah invites you and Harry to join her and Mitch on a walk. You decline, saying you planned to facetime with your mom. Harry decides to stay home as well, claiming he needs to catch up on some emails he’s been putting off.

You ignore the knowing smirk that Sarah once again sends to the two of you, grateful that Mitch still seems oblivious. 

Once you and Harry are alone in the house he asks if the two of you can talk.

Seated at the kitchen table, mugs of tea in hand, Harry begins. “I don’t really know how to say this. But I feel like I should just be honest.”

He pauses, and your mind swirls with what it is he’s going to be honest about. 

He takes a large breath, exhaling loudly before saying, “I like you. Have for a while. You just- you’re one of my favorite people to hang out with, and you’re so smart, and kind, and funny, not to mention talented and so, so pretty. And if you’ll agree, I’d love to take you out on a proper date.”

You sit there, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in shock. Sure, you were just last night thinking all those things about Harry, but to find out he feels the same way as you? Even with the sweet moments and the chemistry you’ve been feeling, this admission still hits you like it came out of thin air.

Harry starts to squirm and you realize you should probably answer him. You compose yourself and manage to say, “Yes. A proper date. That sounds lovely. And, uhm, I like you too.” The end comes out at barely a whisper, but you know Harry hears it as he smiles so big both dimples appear on his cheeks. 

But then a thought occurs to you, and you ask, “How are we doing a proper date in a pandemic? We can’t go out anywhere.”

“Don’t worry about that, I have a plan,” he says with a pleased expression. 

And that, the fact that he’s obviously put thought into this, proves that he’s felt this way for a while, just like you have. 

“Then I’m looking forward to it,” you reply.

“How about tonight?” He asks.

You’re surprised by that, and he must notice because he backtracks and says, “Or we can wait a couple days. I don’t mean to rush you, I just, we’ve waited so long-”

You cut him off and say, “Tonight is perfect.” You agree, enough of waiting around. 

“Wonderful! Then it’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” you confirm. 

The two of you finish your tea in companionable silence before you get up to actually call your mom as you’d promised her. 

For the rest of the day you can’t help but wonder what Harry’s plan is. He does tell you to get a little dressy, so you spend much of the afternoon getting ready. Harry leaves for a couple hours and goes back to his house, leaving you with a very nosy Mitch and Sarah.

They know something is going on between the two of you, and keep asking questions, but you repeatedly brush them off. Truthfully you don’t have many details to give. 

When Harry gets back he’s dressed in slacks and a blouse, one of your favorite looks on him. It’s the perfect combination of casual and fancy, just enough buttons undone to tease. He’s holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, which Sarah helps you find a vase for. While the two of you are busy with that, Mitch takes Harry aside to give the typical big brother talk. 

Finally, Harry is leading you out to the car, Mitch and Sarah watching on like proud parents. Harry continues to keep the plan a secret, so you’re curious when he pulls into the driveway of his home. He parks the car and comes to open your door like a true gentleman. 

The two of you walk through the house and out to the back patio, where you see the beautiful surprise Harry has planned for you. He’s decorated the whole area, a bottle of wine ready on the table, and he explains that dinner he’s prepared.

He pulls out your chair and helps you settle in before bringing out appetizers. All of the food is delicious, and you enjoy every minute of the meal. There's a moment as you cut your food that your left hand slips a bit, never having regained full strength after the attack your freshman year. Noticing this, Harry quickly reaches over to finish the task for you before gently reaching out to hold your hand, his thumb stroking over the scar from your surgery. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t bring it up, but comforts you all the same. 

The rest of the meal passes without incident, and the sun sets just as you’re eating dessert. It’s perfect, and romantic, and truly is the best date you’ve ever been on. The night ends in Harry’s bed, both of you too impatient to wait any longer after years of wanting one another. 

Since you and Harry have been friends for so long, it only feels natural to slip into this new relationship status of boyfriend and girlfriend. You start spending more and more time at Harry’s house, which apparently gives Mitch and Sarah more alone time together, since at the end of summer they share the news that Sarah is pregnant. 

The next three years are the most exciting whirlwind for all of you. Mitch and Sarah get married, then have a baby just days after they all perform together for the Grammys. Love on Tour begins a few months later, and you're so excited that your remote job allows you to travel with them for every show. 

Sarah makes sure you know all of her parts, making you her backup in case something happens and she needs to miss a show. You’re confident that won’t happen, and then one night, it does. 

It’s August 2022, night 5 at Madison Square Garden in New York City. Sarah comes down with what seems to be a nasty bout of food poisoning, and you’re asked to perform for her. You sit backstage before show time, an absolute mess of nerves. But then Mitch comes and sits with you, quietly hyping you up. The two of you sit and talk about playing music together when you were kids, and soon enough your nerves switch to excitement. 

Harry asks that you stop by his dressing room before going on stage. When you stop in he wraps you in his arms, telling you how happy he is that you’ll be out there with them. Having him be so confident in you and your skills boosts your energy even more, and you can’t wait to get out there.

The show goes perfectly, and Harry gives you a special shout out during the band intros, thanking you for filling in. Hundreds, possibly thousands of cameras film the interaction, which is why it’s no surprise that people are making theories about your relationship with Harry by the next day. You’d managed to keep the fact that you’re dating a secret for two years now, but the look he gives you on stage is undeniable. The truth that Harry is dating his guitarist/best friend’s sister is out, and honestly, you’re relieved. Especially since people seem to be happy about it, and have apparently some fans even shipped the two of you together before. 

With the success of that show, Harry asks you to fill in for Sarah on the entire Australia and Asia leg of tour. She and Mitch are taking a break, focusing on other projects and giving their now two year old a break from traveling for a bit. 

Now that people know you and Harry are dating, you’re nervous that they might think you got this gig because of that. Luckily it seems most people are just saying that Harry is lucky to have found the Rowlands, since they seem to be a very talented family. And well, that’s the best compliment you could have ever hoped for. 

You now better understand the post-concert adrenaline Harry always has, and truthfully, your sex life has only benefited from this development. 

There’s a part of you that’s sad that you won’t be on stage with Harry for the last leg of tour, but that feeling fades away the second he comes out on stage in Denmark and you get to watch in amazement once again. You’re especially glad to be in the audience for Slane Castle, and Wembley, and most importantly, Italy. 

The pride you feel watching him up there is overwhelming. The years that you’ve been together have been the happiest of your life, and you feel so much love for him. 

Which is why, two days later, when he gets down on one knee and asks you to marry him, there’s no question. You immediately say yes.

While the last two years have been all about tour, the next few years are all about building your lives together. You get married in a small ceremony, just family and close friends. Watching Mitch and Sarah’s son interact with Gemma’s baby girl practically kick starts your biological clock. 

You and Harry make sure to enjoy the honeymoon phase for a while, but the desire to become parents grows more and more every day. When you decide to start trying it doesn’t happen right away, but after a few months, you excitedly call him into your room.

He finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling and holding what is clearly a pregnancy test.

“Is it? Are you?” he asks.

“I’m pregnant,” you confirm and immediately he begins to cry and smile all at once, wrapping you in his arms and holding you tight.

“I love you so much,” he says before sliding to kneel on the floor. He places his hands on your hips and looks at your belly before saying, “And I love you too, little one.” It’s when he places a kiss on your stomach that you finally start to cry happy tears as well. 

Neither of you can wait to tell your families, who are ecstatic by the news as well. The biggest surprise is when you tell Mitch and Sarah, who share that Sarah is pregnant as well. Knowing that your child will grow up with cousins so close in age sends you into another bit of hormone induced happy tears.

The surprises continue when you go to your first OB appointment, and you learn that you’re having twins. And when you learn a couple months later that they’re both girls, Harry quickly settles in his role as a girl dad.

As expected, he is the best partner through all of this. He gets any craving you may have, does the hard work around the house, does anything and everything he can to help you be as comfortable as possible. He never stops telling you how beautiful you are, even when you’re six months along with two babies and feeling like a beached whale. 

You talk to Gemma and Sarah nearly every day, getting advice and reassurance from them, especially as you get closer to actually giving birth. Sarah has her baby just as you get to seven months and holding your new nephew in your arms is like a reality check that you’ll have two of these little ones in just a few weeks.

Harry continues to support you however he can, but as the weeks go by you start to admit that you’re just going to live in this discomfort until the babies are here. You just remind yourself that each day of heartburn and back pain is another day your babies get to cook inside you. 

When you do go into labor at 36 weeks, Harry remains calm and steady. His presence is grounding, and he gives you the strength to give birth to two beautiful and healthy baby girls. 

A few weeks later your house is full, both yours and Harry’s families there to visit. Some people might find it overwhelming, but in this moment, you’re simply filled with joy. You watch as Harry holds his niece, Gemma and Sarah each have one of your babies, and your parents entertain Mitch and Sarah’s sons. It’s crazy, and chaotic, and it’s like a dream you never knew you had has now come true. 

Mitch sits next to you, not saying anything, but putting an arm around your shoulders for a moment. He doesn’t need any words for you to know he’s taking it all in too. You’re grateful to have him by your side. Your big brother, your protector, and most importantly, your best friend. 

Harry hands his niece off to his mother and sits on your other side. Mitch smiles, gives you one last squeeze and goes to play with his toddler. Harry presses a kiss to your head and you sink into his side. You can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world to experience all this love.

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really loved writing this one. Side note, chose that picture because I love smiley Harry, but also, love smiley Mitch in the background.

[lolkency]

XO

┊your boss mr. nanami asks you to stay at work overtime on valentine’s day

❥ nanami x reader

cw: vaginal fingering, sexual intercourse, praising, forbidden work romance

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

JUJUTSU TECH INC.

You sat at your desk constantly checking the time on your computer, it was around an hour until it was time to clock out.

Working at one of the largest cyber security companies would be interesting if you actually did any work.

You were the assistant to CEO Kento Nanami, who was appointed the position when the old CEO passed.

Apparently he was one of his best workers, which made him the company's youngest CEO ever at 27, not that you kept up with stuff like that...

As his assistant, you didn't really do much, just answered calls, ran errands, and played solitaire on your computer when there was nothing to do. The only time your job was interesting was when Mr. Nanami went to meetings, since he always asked you to accompany him, even though you didn't do much at them.

Your friends often liked to joke that you were just eye candy for Mr. Nanami, and you would think that too, if he ever looked at you.

Although Mr. Nanami was a nice boss to everyone at the company, he for some reason rarely ever looked you in the eyes, and when he did it was only for a brief moment.

When you went into his office, he was always looking at anything but you, and when he did look up, he avoided your eyes.

So, he couldn't be keeping you around as eye candy, if he didn't even look AT you.

It wasn't like this was something you pondered about often, keeping you awake at night...nope you couldn't care less if your boss liked you or not.

*RINGGGG*

You snapped out of your daze, picking up the phone. "Hello Jujutsu Tech, how may I help you?" you answered with your corporate voice.

"Y/n" Mr.Nanami spoke on the other end.

"Sir?"

"Come to my office, please"

"Yes s-" he hung up before you could finish your response. He was very blunt with his calls, always getting straight to the point. You wondered what he could want, maybe he had some papers for you to run to Satoru again before you left.

You let out a sigh, and walked to his office, which was adjacent to yours. You gave his door a few knocks, waiting for a response.

"Come in y/n" his voice muffled behind the door.

"How do you know it’s me every time" you questioned, entering the office, closing the door behind you.

"You're the only one I called to my office" he replied matter of factly, his eyes on his computer.

"Oh duh" you let out a dry chuckle...tough crowd.

What you didn't know was that Nanami had memorized the sound of your heels on the epoxy flooring, he knew you were coming even before you knocked on his door. He liked to tell himself it was because you had to come into his office so often that he remembered your walking pattern.

"So, what did you need me to do?" You asked, smiling down at him, not that he could see it, his attention still on his screen.

"I just wanted to inform you that I'll need you to stay for a few hours longer tonight. I need to redo parts of the presentation before the meeting tomorrow" he sighed, bringing a hand to rub his eyes under his glasses.

He seemed tired, overworked. Mr. Nanami was the type of boss to do the work himself, he didn't like to burden the other workers with his job. Well, except for you, but even then you never really did much, but he'd never asked you to work overtime.

"Um Mr. Nanami, you do know it's Valentines Day, right?" You asked, hoping he would consider your personal life. Even though you didn't have serious plans, you didn't want to sit in the office for hours until he was finished. You doubted you would be any help anyways.

"Oh that must've slipped my mind, did you have any plans?” He asked, his eyes directed at the papers on his desk now.

"No, bu-"

"Good, then you can stay. You'll be paid for the extra time spent" he smiled, shifting through the papers.

"That's not the point, I don't care about the pay, it's the principle. And I doubt you even need me anyways" you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Y/n" he looked up at you, his eyes still not reaching yours, they were pointed towards your...chest.

"Sir?", the word barely escaping your lips.

"I need you...here" his eyes flickered up at yours above his glasses, before looking back at the documents. Well you couldn't say no to that. Now you were glad he barely looked you in the eye, he was very persuasive, or maybe it was the tone of his voice, almost pleading.

‘Or maybe it was because he was your boss and you needed to get a fucking grip’ you thought to yourself.

You cleared your throat, "yes of course, sorry sir. I'll be in my office if you need me" you turned to leave. Behind you, Nanami finally looked up again. His eyes roamed over your body, the way your dark gray pencil skirt road up your thighs as you walked, and how if he squinted he could see your red bra under your white button down.

Back in your office, you watched the clock again, it had been over an hour since everyone left. You sat at your desk playing with one of the fidget toys you stole from Ieiri.

Your fellow coworkers were probably off on dates, or getting wasted, which to be honest if you weren't at work you wouldn't be doing either of those things.

You had planned on binging romcoms and eating ice cream and not in a 'I'm so sad I don't have a partner' way but a 'why the hell not' way.

But you wouldn't be able to do any of that since you were cooped up in your office for god knows how long. All because Mr. Nanami "needed you" for whatever reason.

Maybe you could watch at least one movie before you went to bed, if this didn't take all night.

It had now been three hours since everyone went home, meaning it was eight o' fucking clock. And just as you thought, Mr. Nanami didn't need you because he hadn't ca-

*RINGGGG*

Speak of the devil and he shall appear or in your case, think of Mr. Nanami and he shall call. It was like he was reading your mind.

"Yes Mr. Nanami", you answered, a tad bit annoyed. You knew it was him, there were no other calls coming through at this time of night.

"Come to my office" he ordered, hanging up after.

You got up from your desk, straightening your skirt, it had wrinkled from sitting with your legs up in your chair. Slipping your heels back on, you walked in without knocking.

You were met with the same view as before, except you noticed he had loosened his tie a bit, part of his neck you'd never seen, peeked out at you. His muscles bulged out of his blue button down. 'Get a grip you're acting like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle for the first time'.

"What is it that you needed me for, Mr. Nanami?" you broke the silence, since it seemed he was waiting on you to speak first.

"I need you to replace these copies with the ones you gave to Satoru this morning" he nudged the papers to the edge of his desk.

"Yes sir, anything else?" you asked, grabbing the copies.

"Come back to my office once you're done" he ran a hand through his golden hair before returning it back to his keyboard. You nodded, even though you didn't think he'd see it.

You left his office, walking down the hall to the cubicles Satoru worked in. He was one of the company’s best workers, and he didn't let you forget. His cockiness and care free attitude was a bit much at first, but you'd come to love bringing him papers, since it meant you had something to do.

Arriving at his desk, you knew it was his by the framed picture of him and a dark haired man on the beach. You’d asked about it once, but he shooed you off, seemed to be something he wasn't into talking about.

The papers from the morning sat on his desk, you replaced them with the new copies.

You stopped by your office to shred the old documents and headed back to Mr. Nanami, your heels clacking on the floor with each step.

Back at his office, you walked in to a chair sitting directly in front of his desk, which hadn't been there before.

"What's with the chair?" You questioned.

"It's for you, there's no point in coming back and forth when I need you." he explained, his eyes on the chair.

"Makes sense" no it didn't but you were just ready to go home. You closed the door behind you, a force of habit, and sat in the chair directly across from him.

You sat in silence as he typed away, his slender fingers swiftly moving across his keyboard. He cracked his knuckles, using his thumb, he'd been at this for hours.

"Mr. Nanami?" you spoke, a newfound confidence coming over you or maybe it was just because you were bored out of your mind.

"Yes?" he sighed, not in an agitated way, but an almost appreciative or satisfied one.

"Why am I the only one you asked to call you Mr. Nanami? All of the other workers just call you Kento, and you never seem to have a problem with it" you questioned, sitting up in the chair, both hands on your lap. You'd always wondered why, but never saw a time fit to ask.

"Because you're my assistant and...do you wanna know the truth?" his eyes were locked on your lap.

"Yes?" your response coming out more as a question. He sighed, before glancing up at your mouth.

"It's because I like the way it sounds on your lips" he averted his gaze back to his computer, starting his typing again.

"Oh..." How else were you supposed to respond to that, but the thing was you felt a hint of satisfaction from his confession, like you’d done something right. He was appreciative of something you’d done.

"Can you talk to me more, while I work" he asked, eyes on his screen.

"Uh sure...about what?" you crossed your legs, telling yourself it was to get comfortable, and not because your hot boss just admitted he liked the sound of his name on your lips. No it definitely wasn't because of that.

"You..." he responded, you hated talking about yourself, but it beat sitting in silence.

"Okay...well I'm 21, but you probably already knew that since you're the one who hired me" you let out a shacky laugh.

"Anyways, I graduated in 3 years instead of 4 because according to my friends 'I don't have a life’. I majored in business and the only reason I applied for this job was to get money until I figured out what I wanted to do." you looked up at him for some sort of reasurance, his lips were turned up in a slight smile.

"Go on" he promted you.

"Well the listing on indeed for this position was only like 30k a year, which is like not the best but as I said I just needed a bit of cash to keep me up post grad. But then it raised to 80k once I was hired, which was better than the entry level jobs I would've gotten with my Bachelors. To be honest at first I thought it was a mistake, but I asked about it and it was true, the position's salary miracuously raised over 2x's more than it was before. Which I still don't understand why I am being paid so much when I don't do mu-"

"Y/n" Mr. Nanami called, his eyes directly on you.

"Yes?" Your eyes met his, it looked like he was in pain almost.

"Come here" he commanded, his voice hoarse.

You were confused, but assumed he wanted to show you something on his computer, or maybe he had something he wanted you to take to Satoru's desk again.

Raising from the chair and straightening your skirt again, you walked over to his side of the desk.

"Sit on my desk" he whispered.

"I'm sorry what?" You must've heard him wrong.

"Sit...please" he pleaded, his hazel eyes staring over his glasses.

"Okay..." you sat on the wooden desk, beside his chair. You squeezed your legs together, attempting not to flash him your panties.

Nanami rose from his seat, walking over to you, caging you in. He stared at you for a second, your expression was beautiful, your eyebrows knitted together, looking up at him in confusion. But he shouldn't, he ripped his eyes away from yours, turning away.

"Sorry, what am I doing. I shouldn't h-"

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed him by the tie, locking your lips with his. He braced himself, both hands now on either side of you, against the desk.

He instantly kissed you back, a moan escaping his mouth. His lips were soft and plump against yours, as your tongues danced against one another. His hands moved from his desk to your hips, gripping them roughly.

You let go of his tie and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Your hand cradled his head, fingers intertwining with his hair.

Lifting his head, his eyes locked with yours, his gaze filled with need.

"Are you sure about this? I don't want you to do anything you don't want to" his tone was serious, but the only thing you could think about was how his lips glistened above you.

"I want this" you lifted a hand from his neck, wiping his bottom lip. His mouth closed around your thumb, sucking it before he released it with a trail of saliva.

His hands immediately went to your shirt, unbuttoning it before ripping it off of you.

You shivered at the cold air of the office. He admired his view of you, sitting on his desk in a red laced bra. He moved to take it off and release your breasts, in a frantic motion, he was growing impatient, and so were you.

Once the barrier was gone, he cupped them both, his thumbs rubbing against your sensitive buds, giving them a pinch before taking one in his mouth.

Mr. Nanami suckled on one of your breasts while he fondled the other. "Mmm" he moaned against your skin, his tongue swirling around your areola.

Your hand moved back to his hair, pushing him against chest. "Fuck" you sighed, as he bit down onto your nipple, before planting a kiss on it to ease the pain.

He lifted himself from your breasts, pulling you to the edge of the desk. Attaching his hands to your skirt, he pushed it down your legs, revealing your matching red panties under your mesh stockings.

Nanami's hands dove down your panties, reveling in how wet you were for him. He always knew you felt the same way as he had for you.

From the second he locked eyes on you, he fantasized about this moment.

"So wet for me" he smirked down at you.

Two fingers slipped inside you with no warning.

"Mmm fuck" you cried out, your hands held his shoulders for support.

His fingers pumped into you at an agonizingly slow pace. His thumb moved up to your clit, pressing against it in a circular motion.

Your hips rocked against his hand, aching for more.

"Yes, that's good. Ride my fingers" he ordered, his voice soft.

"Mmm" you moaned, bucking your hips, his fingers hitting your sweet spot.

His pace sped up, eyes never leaving you, glasses now crooked on his face.

You could feel your climax building, and he noticed too. His other hand rose to your hips, pushing you even closer to him.

Your boss stood between your legs as his fingers pumped inside you.

"C’mon cum for me" his forehead connected with yours, watching you as you finished on his fingers. Your hips jerked from the overstimulation, as he continued to pump you through your orgasm.

You had to grab his wrist to stop him, he shook his head coming out of his haze, removing his fingers from you.

Your hands grabbed his tie, pulling it over his head, already loose from earlier.

You unbuttoned his shirt, ripping it off his shoulders. His chiseld body glistened with sweat under the office light. Your hands roamed over his chest, connecting with his nipples, he let out a shacky sigh.

"Get up and turn around" he ordered you.

You hopped down from the desk, kicking off your heels, and did as he ordered. Once your back was to him, he placed his hands on your bare shoulders. He slowly pushed you down, until your breasts were flush against the cold wood of his desk.

Nanami moved his hands down your spine, until they attached with your hips. He pressed his clothed length against your cunt.

Letting out another satisfied sigh, Mr. Nanami kneaded your ass with both of his hands, as his dick rubbed against your back side. The contact sending pleasure to your core, your pussy ached for another release.

You moved your hands back to touch his length, but he immediately swatted it away.

"Ah ah ah, you're being impatient" he cooed, grabbing his tie, you had placed on the desk. He took both of your hands behind your back, and tied them together.

"There, much better" you could feel him step away, no longer feeling the warmth of his body against you.

You strained your neck, attempting to see what he was doing, his pants along with his underwear dropped to the floor. He was long and achingly hard, like he had been that way all day.

He walked back to you, his hands attaching to your ass again, giving it a soft smack.

"I‘ll pay for a new pair" he reassured.

"Wh-" before you could question him. He had ripped your stockings, revealing your damp panties. His fingers hooked around the fabric, moving it to the side.

Nanami lined his length with your entrance.

"You ready" he asked, looking down at you.

"Yes" you pleaded, over your shoulder.

"Yes, what?" His voice stern.

"Yes, sir"

He slipped himself inside, a scream escaped your lips, as his length stretched your hole. His strokes started off slow, just as he had when fingering you. It was like he wanted to savor the moment forever.

Nanami pulled out agonizingly slow, just to harshly pound back into you, the desk rattled with each contact.

"Fuck, do you know how much I've thought about this. Fucking your little cunt until you came" he sighed.

"Ever since you walked into this office, I knew I'd have you eventually...mmh" he let out a loud groan, picking up his pace.

He grabbed your tied hands, pulling you up a bit. Your back arched, pushing you further against him. His tip brushed against your sweet spot, over, and over. You could have sworn he was growing even harder inside you.

Another groan escaped him, his large hand slapped your ass before giving it a tight squeeze.

"Mmm, baby you're so perfect, just like I knew you'd be. You're so obedient, such a good girl" he cooed, bringing you up against him, so that your back...and arms were flush against his chest. His arm wrapped around your midsection to hold you up. The position was slightly uncomfortable but you could care less.

With each praise your pussy begged for more, squeezing your walls around him. He continued his relentless pursuit on your cunt.

The sounds of him pounding into you echoed through out the office, maybe even the entire floor. Nanami's tip bruised your insides, edging your release.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum again" you cried out. He increased his pace even more.

"Cum for me baby" he whispered down in your ear and your body did just that, feeling yourself release around him. "That's my girl, doing so good for me"

Your legs trembled, as Mr. Nanami continued pounding his length into you. Tears streamed down your face from the overstimulation. 

"Mmh, I wanna look in your eyes as I come" he groaned, pulling out of you, untying your hands.

"Lay down on the desk" he ordered and you followed, sitting down on the desk before laying on your back.

Mascara ran down your face, even then you looked so beautiful, maybe even better, Nanami thought.

"Good girl" he praised, before spreading your legs and pushing himself inside you once again. He bent his body down, holding himself up with his hands on either side of you, trusting into your overstimulated cunt.

His hazel eyes, never left yours. You wrapped your legs around him, pushing him deeper inside you. Your hands now free, moved up to cup his face, pulling him into a kiss. It was filled with passion, lust, and longing.

You felt like this was something you'd needed all along, your body craved more. You began bucking your hips up against him, following his pace. Pleasure built up in your core again, you moaned into his mouth. He pulled away, biting your bottom lip, before releasing it, his glasses crooked on his face.

"You're a little freak" he teased, growing harder by your need for a third orgasm, and he was gonna give it to you. Nanami's pace grew even faster, your hips unable to keep up.

He gazed down at you, your eyebrows knitted together just as they had when you were confused. He could tell you were almost there, and so was he.

Nanami sat up, grabbing your hips with both of his hands, his eyes never leaving yours. A third climax washed over you, your legs limply dropped from his waist.

His strokes became sporadic, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, slamming into you one more time, before he came. His cum painted your walls, filling your cunt. You squeezed yourself around his length as much as you could, milking every drop from him, eyes locked on his.

"One more round?" he asked, you let out a dry chuckle under him, but he wasn't joking.

✎ this did nawt come out as good as i wanted, but i really wanted to give you guys something for vday. sorry for any typos i will fix any mistakes when i get the time <3

-ciara💻

[snakeeyeddarling]

Elliot.... Look, I'm sure the man had nothing but good intentions and truly cared about Harley but like others have pointed out, he really did not consider Harley's situation at all. He mentions in his observations about Harley that the boy probably has a bad home life:

"From here and there he talks about home, I get the sense that he doesn't miss it very much."

AND YET HE ENDS HIS LETTER TO HARLEY WITH:

"So I challenge you to head for home, Harley, and to look at the people around you."

LIKE SIR YOU ALREADY KNOW THAT THE PEOPLE AROUND HIM PROBABLY AREN'T GREAT WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT

Chances are that Harley did go home afterwards (he is a still child at this point after all, where else can he go?) looked at the people around him and fully threw away whatever humanity he had left after that - becoming the person we know today.

Not to justify Harley's actions at all, but I would feel betrayed too if I opened up to someone about a rough home life, and then when they kicked me out of the one safe place I had they sent me back home.

Like hello?

And again, I truly believe Elliot thought he was doing the right thing. But I don't think he should have made the fatal assumption that every child came from a good home - especially with all the hints already in place.

[sunsetchicane]

Postcards - Part 3 [LN4]

lando norris x [travel] journalist fem!reader

find the series here

word count: 5.2k

summary: The one where you're in Paris and you can't stop thinking about him and you find yourself giving him a call.

warnings: angsts again (sorry! I swear it's turning around), swearing, innuendo, unedited!

author's note: hey...sorry this took so long??? college is crazy guys. but anyways, I'm a little rusty so be gentle lmao. please enjoy and I'll see you guys SOON!! feedback, comments, likes whatever you feel like is so much appreciated. Lots of love [xoxo elle]

Lando

Nov. 2022

The lights of Abu Dhabi blind Lando as he stands next to his car and removes his helmet from his head. Ending P6 was respectable, a good end to a mediocre at best season. His head swims with the noise that swallows the track and the flashing lights that light up the night race. Another season was officially in the books. There’s always a bittersweet feeling that hits all the drivers as they jump out of their cars for the last race of the season, letting the months past become another chapter of history. An excitement for the break ahead and the promise of a new season buoys their spirits, but it’s a hard goodbye nonetheless. 

Lando absentmindedly walks around to congratulate everyone, shaking hands and sharing smiles. Though, his heart isn’t in it. His focus splintered the second he left the car. Thoughts drift towards you. They always do. There’s never a day that passes that you aren’t on his mind, on his heart.

Flashing cameras surround him, capturing this moment. He thinks of you.

Journalists with microphones tucked into their hands yell words into a camera lens. He thinks of you.

Faces flashing in and out of sight, bodies swarming around him as his eyes search the crowd. He’s looking for you.

But you aren’t there. There was no reason for you to be there. The last time you spoke, the London night surrounded you and held you together. To this day, when he closes his eyes, he can still feel your lips on his. Somedays, he makes it through with just this memory alone spurring him on. He promised to see you in Monaco, but every time he called your office, you were gone. Every time he showed up at your cubicle, it was deserted. A layer of dust collected over everything. 

A thin layer of dust covering a framed picture of Big Ben lit from behind by the setting sun.

After so many futile attempts of trying to find you, to connect again, he slowly stopped trying. There was an obvious truth behind the estrangement of your paths: you were avoiding him. 

At first, he rejected the idea, claiming to only himself that you wouldn’t do that. He was convinced that you felt the same way that he did. There was something between the two of you that was beyond anything he had ever felt. Your passion inspired him. Your humor warmed him. Your presence set him at ease in such a way that the whole world could be burning and he would be perfectly content to just hold you in his arms. 

He’d never felt that way about anyone. Not even close.

So for a long time, longer than he would ever admit, he clutched onto hope. 

But with each passing week with not a single word from you, faith began to slip. With every message that went unanswered and phone call that went straight to the voicemail of your office phone, his grip on you loosened. 

He’d be the first to admit his lack of maturity. He wasn’t ashamed of still being a kid. Instead, he wore it like a badge of honor, making it part of his personal brand. If it wasn’t for you, he would never have thought twice about growing up to be the man that you deserved. But now that you’re gone, slipping into memory, he’s found himself back in his comfortable corner of immaturity. 

So, after hurrying through all of his post-race interviews and duties with the team, he finds himself taking solace in the night life of Abu Dhabi.

Alcohol had never really been his thing, but recently the appeal has been becoming more and more obvious to him. Round after round is poured down his throat, burning every memory of you away for the night. Intoxication holds you at bay, at least for a while. 

“Slow down, mate.” Max laughs into his ear while Lando tosses back yet another shot of something. He’s had enough that everything tastes the same now.

“I’m celebrating!” Lando slurs, shoving Max square in the chest. They stumble together, laughing as they nearly fall over. The world is a haze of flickering neon lights. Music and voices blend into a loud hum, everything becoming one to drunk ears.

Lando collapses haphazardly onto the couch in the club, quickly followed by Max. With hooded eyes, they watch the dance floor in front of them. The mass of the crowd seems to move as one, enchanting Lando’s drunk mind. The night coalesces and crests like a wave, ebbing and flowing as one singular, living thing. Everything seems interconnected and endless. If he could, Lando would stay in this feeling forever. Nothing hurts, nothing is joyful, everything is completely numb.

“I miss her.” He says, but the usual pain that accompanies those words is nowhere to be found.

“I know,” Max says, his head falling back while he closes his eyes.

“I hate her.” Lando says emotionlessly. Max doesn’t respond. It isn’t true. They both know that it isn’t. But for tonight, they can pretend. 

Lando can pretend that it doesn’t matter that he pushes himself off the couch when he catches the eye of a girl that looks somewhat like you. He can pretend that he doesn’t think about you as he dances behind her, his hands gripping her hips to hold her close. He can pretend that he doesn’t wish it was your neck that his lips trail up towards her jaw. He has to pretend when he finds himself asking her to leave with him. 

And when he finds himself that night, tangled up with a girl who’s name he doesn’t bother to remember, he gives up pretending and thinks only of you. Of your lips, of your body, of the way it would feel to have you around him. Your voice calling out his name in the quiet hours of the morning. 

He hates you.

He hates not having you.

This isn’t the first time that he’s tried to heal his sorrow with momentary pleasure. No, in fact, he’s done this a handful of times and each time he tries he hopes that this will be the girl to erase you from his life. But she never is. He’s a fool for trying the same thing over and over again expecting a miracle.

“Stay,” she mumbles into her pillow, a delicate hand draping across his chest. It’s cold against his hot skin. He turns his face away from her so she can’t see him cringe. Gently, Lando slides her hand away and returns it to her side. 

“Can’t,” He says while sliding to the edge of the bed and away from her. For a few moments while he rubs the sleepiness from his eyes, he listens to her groan and complain. He’s so tired. With a huff, he stands and collects his clothes that are strewn about the luxurious room. 

As he pulls his clothes on, he listens to the soft rustling of silk sheets and the steady in and out of sleeping breaths. But everything seems a thousand miles away, so cold and distant. In the slight hours of the morning, nothing feels real. He’s numb and tired. He’s cold and exhausted of feeling the same pain from the moment he wakes up to the time he finally is graced by merciful sleep. 

Spiraling thoughts plague Lando’s mind as he wanders the slips into the back of an uber. Glossy eyes scan the world as it streams by him in the back window of some random car. How many times has he lived this night? Every car ride back to his apartment or hotel room feels the same, blending into one continuous stream of dull memory. 

Stumbling into his hotel room, he heads straight to his bed without a second thought. Discarding his clothes onto the floor for the second time tonight, he can’t help but wish he’d been here sooner. There isn’t solace for him in someone else’s bed, and when he’s alone he doesn’t have to pretend there is. He’s sick of playing pretend and putting a mask on for himself, for his friends, for his team, and the millions of people watching him under a microscope. The truth and the pressure of that truth has weighed on him for months.

He’s heartbroken. He’s suffering. And there’s nothing to be done about it. He hasn’t had the chance to heal and he doesn’t know when he will–if he will. Because when he thinks of you, it’s like a knife of what could have been to the chest; and when he blocks you from his mind he feels guilty and hopelessly alone. 

A spinning ceiling and tears in his eyes coax him to sleep.

He dreams of you, of course. Even sleep can’t free him of you.

You

The City of Love and Lights has been a whirlwind for you over the last few days. This new piece on an up and coming grunge artist hailing from the infamous streets of Paris has become larger than you originally thought. Night and day, you’ve been chained to your laptop, cranking out a story worthy of its subject matter. 

Tonight, you’ve decided to dive into your work at some random cafe down the street from where you’re staying. Headphones on and phone turned off, you’ve been plugged in for hours. Countless cappuccinos have been downed since you came in which could be three days or minutes ago, you wouldn’t know. Only when the noise at the bar grows from a quiet, sporadic chatter to a distracting, constant hum of voices, do you look up from your work. 

The sun has set, giving the streets a chance to live up to the name “City of Lights.” People and cars whiz past you, everyone on their way somewhere. The crowd at the cafe has gone from a few coffee sippers to a mass of people huddled around the bar ordering drinks for them and their friends. 

Realizing you’ve lost yourself in your work, you rub the heels of your hands against your tired eyes. With a sigh, you fold up your notes and tuck them away into your bag along with your laptop. You gather up your empty dishes and mugs, placing them in the bin above the trash.

Just as you turn towards the exit, ready to slip to your bed and sleep for hours and hours, cheering rises up around you. A name you take care to avoid ripples through the crowd. A small group of people are huddled around the bar, chests pressed to backs, heads leaned in, trying to get a glimpse at something.

Biting hard on your bottom lip, you fight yourself. Your eyes flicker out to the darkened streets of Paris and then back to the group of people who must be watching the season’s final race. As much as you hated yourself for it, of course you kept up with the Formula One season. It was the only connection you had to Lando. Distant, impersonal, and safe. You could keep your eye on him, see his face every once in a while, but not fall in again. At least that’s what you told yourself every time you went out of your way to stream a race, no matter where you were. 

It had been ages since you saw him in London. Some days it feels like a lifetime ago, and most times it feels as fresh as yesterday. You wake up with the feeling of his lips on yours, his arms wrapped around you. 

And maybe it’s the romantic in you that you’ve tried to kill and bury your whole life, but the thing you miss most about him is his stupid smile. There’s such complete joy behind that smile. It lights you up in your darkest moments, lifting you up and warming you. There isn’t anything that you wouldn’t give to be able to see that smile just one more time.

But you can’t. So, you turn your back on the crowd of Formula fans and walk out onto the street. 

As you walk, you try to distract yourself by taking in the scenery or by thinking of your story. But of course every train of thought leads back to him. You know Lando would love Paris. He wouldn’t admit it, of course. He would rather die than let anyone know how much of a romantic he is. The two of you are similar in that way.

At least you think so. So much time has passed, you can’t really say that you know him at all. Sure, you’ve spent a little time together, but life is constantly changing. You don’t know who he is today, what he hates today, what he loves. All you’ve ever gotten of each other is fleeting moments. And you’re to blame.

Countless times you’ve gone over it in your head. Playing every single scenario out over and over, trying to find the one where it could work between you two. But every time, you come to the same conclusion: it never will.

Even if you could convince yourself not to run at the first chance, which you always will, your lives are too different. His job would be pulling him one way while yours would be pulling you to the opposite corner of the world. Constantly in motion, but never intersecting. No matter how much you want it to, his and your futures won’t bend to fit. It tears you apart.

When you’re not traveling or writing for work, you find yourself filling pages with his name and the pain that comes with it. Your messy, ink blotted notebooks are filled cover to cover with insane ramblings of a broken heart. You can’t bring yourself to think of anyone else that way. When you try, it falls short and you do what you do best: you run.

The walk back to your hotel is blessedly quick. Being alone with your thoughts right now is torture, especially with idle hands. Everything seems a little bit easier when there’s a pen held in your fingers. 

Walking through the lobby, you try to keep your head down, not wanting anyone to bother you tonight. Bee-lining for the elevator, you wish you were already in your room. But, as the button lights up under your finger and the numbers above the doors make their descent, you can’t help but wonder what solace a lonely hotel room would bring you. Trapped in a shoebox of a room with nothing but an empty bed and a full mind. A premonition of staring at the ceiling for the next few hours, slowly driving yourself insane flashes in your mind’s eye.

Glancing over your shoulder, you look at the small bar off to the side of the lobby. It’s blessedly empty, only a few randoms sitting quietly here and there. Abandoning the elevator, you walk over to the bar. 

Drinking at a hotel bar isn’t an unfamiliar low for you. It might be sad and slightly pathetic, but it’s better than any other option you have right now. Actually, drowning your sorrows in Paris doesn’t really sound half bad, right? It could be an interesting anecdote in the long, melodramatic tale of your life post-Lando that you could tell Bobbi. She would laugh and commiserate with you over shitty frozen pizza that her son loved and a sweet wine that she loved.

With that thought, you order three vodka shots and a Diet Coke. Dropping your bag and coat in the seat next to you, you haul out the book you’ve been trying to chip away at when you have enough focus to read. Then you crack open your Coke and take two of your shots. Tossing your head back, you relish the burn of the liquid as it slides down your throat, but quickly chase it with your Coke to ease the pain.

Leaning forward onto the bar, you pry your book open and try to focus on the words inked onto the pages. 

Within minutes, your fingertips are buzzing and your face feels flushed. The words in front of your swirl and sway. Pausing your “reading,” you toss back your last shot, grimacing at the taste. Still, you tap the bartop with your fingers, signalling the bartender that you’re in need of his services.

The bartender is quick to place a new shot in front of you. Reaching out, you play with the small glass between your fingers while you continue to read. You don’t know how long you sit like that, your head battling between the effects of the alcohol and your desperation to focus on your book. 

Suddenly, a rhythmic buzzing pulls your already splintered attention away from the stupid book. You rummage through your bag, looking for your phone. When you find it and turn it over, you're met with a blank screen. There are a few random notifications from earlier that day, mostly work emails you hadn’t been bothered to respond to yet. 

“Salut,” The bartender says as he presses his phone to his ear. You watch as he turns away from the bar and mumbles into the receiver of his cellphone. Shamelessly, you watch the hushed conversation of the young, brunette bartender play out. He’s splashed in the soft orange light that filters through the rows of bottles against the wall of the bar. He laughs quietly while leaning his hip against the counter. The white button up of his uniform, his dark hair, and tanned skin are reminiscent of someone you’ve been trying to avoid thinking about all night. It’s surprising you’ve just noticed now. 

You don’t have to speak perfect French to know what he was talking about on the call, or who was on the other end. He was swaying and smiling, his fingers brushing across his lips while his eyes lit up with the fireworks you could practically hear going off in his chest.

A sharp pang of loneliness erupts in your chest.

You take another shot and wait. Abandoning your book, you trace the grain of the wood bartop with featherlight fingers. Time slows and your vision goes a little bit hazy. A sweet peace crashes over your consciousness. Your thoughts begin to slide together so you can’t identify where one thought starts and where a feeling ends. Everything feels delightfully airy and heavy at the same time, making your reality feel a little less real.

“Can I buy a bottle?” You ask suddenly. You weren’t really sure if you said it outloud or not, but when the bartender walks over to you with a bottle of vodka he’d been giving you shots from and tells you the price, you don’t even hesitate as you toss a few bills on the counter, covering everything. He bids you a goodnight as you snatch up the bottle along with your other belongings and make your way back to the elevator. 

The walk feels much easier the second time. You feel so much lighter, so much better. Your thoughts are far away, not plaguing you like they were earlier. Laying on your empty bed and losing yourself in an overly expensive pay-per-view movie sounds far more appealing than it did an hour ago as well.

You take the elevator to your floor, stumbling to your door. Fumbling with your key, you open the door, toss your stuff on the ground, and flop onto the bed, bottle in hand. Almost instantaneously, you turn on the television and peruse the movies. You buy The Proposal and lean back into your pillows while the title sequence plays. 

As you take another burning pull from the bottle in your hand, you think distantly that you should be ashamed of yourself. Drowning your sorrows alone in a hotel room in Paris. The word pathetic echoes around your head. You try to kill the thought with yet another swallow of alcohol. 

With a hazy mind, you watch as a badass, albeit definitely bitchy, Sandra Bullock string along a charismatic and endlessly sarcastic Ryan Renolds. 

“She’s not that bad,” You say into an empty room as she tears her jerk employee a new one. “She’s just career oriented.”

Projecting much? Your subconscious whispers to you.

You tip the bottle back.

And that sequence continues to happen as you watch the movie. Every time something touches a little too close to home, you drink. It’s like some sad drinking game that you’ve forced yourself to participate in.

By the time the credits roll, you’re plastered. Eyes trained to the ceiling, you try to sling together a single coherent thought. But you can’t. Everything in your mind seems to pop up quickly and then slip away before you can grab a hold on it.

Everything except one thought, one name. Lando.

Your drunken mind whispers his name. You want him right now, right next to you. The thought of his big hands in your hair, against your skin, between your legs, is nearly enough to be drunk on alone. And nothing is stopping you now, not even yourself. Intoxication has given you the freedom to do whatever you damn well please. 

Fumbling for your phone, you don’t even really think about what you’re going to say. Instead, you open up your contacts and press on his contact for the first time since you made it. He’d called your work phone months ago and left his number. You’d debated even saving his contact, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Though, you’d never messaged him, never gave him a call. Until now.

Clicking on the call button, you don’t flinch as it begins to ring. It rings…and rings…and rings. His voicemail message sounds like heaven to your wary ears. 

“Landooo, it's…uh…it's me. I’m in Paris on assignment. I bought you a postcard, don’t worry. Listen, I don’t really know why I’m calling. Actually, that’s not true. We both know exactly why I’m calling.” A hiccup breaks up your monologue before you continue. 

“Give me a shout whenever you have the chance, alright? Wanna hear your voice, babe. Good nigh–oh! Good job this season, by the way. Ok, good night, Lan.” You slur into the receiver. There are a million things you want to say, but you know you can’t. Not tonight.

Sleep takes you just as you end the message.

–

“Holy shit.” Fear seizes your chest as you pick up your burning hot phone. It’s nearly dead, but alive enough to show you just exactly what horrible decision you made last night. Lando Norris’ name in red is at the top of your recently called list. You called him last night, which is a horrible grievance in and of itself. What’s worse is that you have zero recollection of what you said. And you don’t trust drunk you to keep her cool. 

“Shit, fuck…shit, shit, shit!” You cry as you dig the heels of your hands into your aching eyes. Your mind races with the million and one things that you’ve wanted to say to Lando in the last months, ranking them from most to least pathetic. You can only hope that you were too drunk to make any sense and he’ll disregard the strange phone call from a number he doesn’t know. He must get dozens of phone calls a week, so there’s no chance that he’ll end up listening to your message. Right?

With a hangover made worse by your intense worrying, you crawl out of bed. You’re unsurprised to find you’re still dressed in your clothes from the day before. Not sparing a glance in the mirror, you strip bare and take a steaming hot shower. Unfortunately, the sting of the water does nothing to burn your spiraling thoughts away. 

As you get dressed, you glance at your phone laying face down on the bedside table. You’d plugged it in before getting in the shower, but hadn’t turned it all the way off. Something kept you from ignoring the damn thing. Curiosity killed the cat and it’s well on its way to killing you too. A twisted, borderline masochistic part of you hopes that he finds your message, no matter how humiliating it is. The truth is that you do miss him and maybe it takes a little bit of liquid courage (foolish courage) to do something about it. 

Questions go unanswered as you do everything to avoid opening your phone. Notifications are still silenced, so you would be none the wiser if it was ringing off the hook or completely bone dry. Instead, you fiddle with a coffee machine, do your makeup, iron out your schedule for the day, and send a few emails from your laptop (which you don’t have your number connected to for the sake of a nonexistent work-life balance).

By the time you’re done, a solid couple of hours have passed. It’s time that you check your phone. You’ve been avoiding the inevitable for too long. Plus, you’ve undoubtedly missed a message or ten about work-related happenings. 

Standing up, you push the desk chair you’ve been perched in back with your legs. A slow breath fills your lungs as you flex your hands by your sides and then shake them out. Nerves prickle down your neck, spilling into a shiver that runs the length of your spine. You’ve always been balls to the wall and nothing so trivial should force you to quiver in a corner with your proverbial tail between your legs. A string of affirmations flood your mind as you turn on your heel and trudge over to the bed. 

The affirmations break down into a waterfall of nervous swears as you take your phone in your hands, pulling it off the charger. It feels oddly delicate in your hands, as if you’re deactivating a bomb. Holding your breath, you slide the control center down and turn your notifications back on. When you return to your home screen, you’re bombarded with a constant stream of notifications from a variety of apps. Your mind goes blank as you skim over everything, looking for the green icon of a message or phone call. Everytime you see one, your heart jumps so far up your throat you think you might vomit. But everytime, it’s just a colleague or your manager or an acquaintance you’ve made while traveling.

Not a single message from Lando. Not a voicemail, not a missed call, not even a short text telling you (rightly) to fuck off. 

Your heart drops into your stomach and the nausea you’d warded off this morning comes back at full force. Managing expectations hadn’t worked. All your worrying had been for nothing. And you’d been a fool to hope. With everything you’ve done to him, effectively ghosting him until just now, months after you’d promised to see him, you’re in no position to be upset that he couldn’t be bothered to respond to you. Let alone the fact that he’s a world famous driver that probably doesn't blink twice at a number he doesn’t know before deleting and blocking it. 

You know you should be relieved that he didn’t listen to your message. Though, some undeniably masochistic part of you wished deeply that he had. Was it unfair of you to force him into the battle that you’ve been waging with yourself over the last year. One day you were willing to give everything up just to see him, then the next you assured yourself that you’d made the right decision by staying away. You were a loose cannon and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you hurt one of the only people you cared so much about.

And maybe you did. Maybe he got your message and he chose to ignore it because he was in pain over you.

Or worse, he didn’t care to respond anymore.

Your mind reels and spins and a pain grows in your chest so severe you think you might have a heart attack. Tears prick at your eyes, blurring your vision of your stupid hotel room that holds everything too close. Memories suffocate you as you hold a phone filled with every notification you don’t want to see and lacking the one that you need.

After a few minutes of much needed cathartic sobbing, you stand up and begin cleaning up your room. Packing is what you’re best at. You’ve perfected it over the years. Everything you own could be stuffed into a few suitcases at a moment's notice. Even your apartment back in Monaco was sparsely decorated and home to only a few dishes and necessary furniture. Traveling from place to place for your job was no different. Rarely did you switch up what you packed into your favorite suitcase. Everything had its spot within. Everything knew where it was supposed to be and where you could find it. It was one of the only constant things in your life. No matter how much you needed constant change, you had this one consistency to keep you grounded. 

It’s worked for your entire life. But now, as you pack everything into its place, it seems slightly duller, more futile. 

Once everything is packed away and your room has been scoured corner to corner for anything you might have forgotten (which you know you hadn’t), you sit on your bed with your suitcase and stare absentmindedly at your laptop screen.

You wonder how many dozen times this exact scene has played out in your life. Something comes up that scares you or you can’t handle, you pack a bag, you sit at the edge of whatever you’d been sleeping on recently, and you wonder where exactly it is you plan on going next.

It’s always been exciting to you, adventurous and whimsical. But now it feels hollow and pathetic. You feel hollow and pathetic and all you want to do is go home.

But where’s home? You’ve made sure that you don’t have anywhere to call home because it’s always been exactly where your feet are. 

So, you decide to go to the next best place.

With a few swift clicks, you buy yourself a train ticket to Nice, Italy. You’re going back to Monaco.

Lando

With his headphones over his ears, he sits in the back of the jet while everyone else sleeps. For what seems like the thousandth time, he presses play on your message again. You’re drunk, he can tell. The voicemail is all slurred words and hiccups, but he can’t find it in himself to care. 

When it ends, he’s angry. Angry at you for calling out of blue because it wasn’t fair. Angry at himself for not picking up. Angry that he isn’t there to make sure you’re alright. Angry because he shouldn’t care this much.

But when he plays the message once more, his anger melts away. Relief floods in at hearing your voice for the first time in months.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t responded yet, or why he didn’t immediately return your call. Instead, he’s decided to play it safe and protect himself for a little bit longer. His plan is already in motion, it has been since before he got on the plane back to Monaco.

He’s going to find you if it’s the last thing he does. He’s going to get real, concrete, honest answers out of you. The game is ending on his terms. 

-

taglist: @sarx164 @f1fantasys

[uvobreakmylegs]

Unforeseen

for fun this year @hypnoswrites and I both wrote Illumi fics for Valentines Day. no connection between the fics, just more dead fish eyes for love day this year :D

here's her fic~

Red Thread of Fate Soulmate AU with Illumi x reader

💕Happy Valentines Day💕

Warnings: assassination, mentions of death, mentions of torture, kidnapping

Word Count: 13.4k

Most days were rather dull for Illumi, he had to admit.

They largely consisted of the same limited activities: travel somewhere, accept a job, locate and kill a target and then be paid for doing so. Sometimes he met with the client if such a meeting was necessary for any reason, but most clients were satisfied with the transaction taking place through the butlers, so these days Illumi rarely needed to take part in a face to face meeting.

Sometimes days were different. Sometimes Chrollo required his services, which Illumi took, much to the annoyance of his father. Sometimes Hisoka decided to bother him, and Illumi would hold back on taking out his annoyance on the magician since it felt like getting rid of him at that moment would be a waste. Sometimes it was Illumi himself causing the detour in his routines, halting his work for something that he determined would be of use to him in the long run, such as the time he had spent taking the Hunter exam. But such things didn't happen often.

Aside from those instances and his frequent trips home before he went back out on a job, the routine largely stayed the same.

Travel. Kill. Payment. Again and again.

And while Illumi was in no way dissatisfied with his life was it was currently, it felt as though there was something missing.

Namely, his soulmate.

Like most who were capable of using nen, Illumi learned of the connection after he mastered gyo and subsequently found that invincible red thread around his finger. The explanation of what that thread meant was followed by strict instruction: that once the thread grew taut, it meant that his soulmate was nearby, and when that happened, he needed to find whoever it was on the other end of the thread and secure them. As with everything his parents told him, Illumi listened carefully and remembered their words, and not a day had gone by since then that he would check on the thread whenever he was away from home, wondering when the time would come that his soulmate was meant to meet him.

The meeting was something Illumi thought of often. For years following the day he learned of soulmates, he found himself gazing at that thread on his finger in the quiet moments during long hours of travel. The more time wore on, the more he wondered who was at the other end and why he hadn't yet met them. At first, when he was still in his training, he had expected that he would meet his soulmate once he had fully mastered nen. But that had been quite some time ago and no such thing had happened, thus his assumption had been false. So Illumi was left to wonder why it hadn't yet happened. Wondering why, after all of the time he spent traveling for jobs, the thread continued to lay slack and dead and refusing to lead him to that other person.

But patience was one of the qualities of a good assassin, and thus, Illumi waited. And until the day came where he would find the person that fate had decided belonged to him, he would continue with that same routine.

Travel. Kill. Payment.

Again and again, always working hard to do his best to uphold the Zoldyck family name, and always trusting that he would find his soulmate whenever fate would determine that the time was right.

It ended up being on an a day that was overcast, when the clouds were dark and looming overhead above him. When Illumi stepped out of his hotel to take care of the current job he had been hired for, he did what he had always done and glanced down at his left pinky finger, anticipating that it would be the same as always. But that was the day that the routine was broken as he realized that the thread around his finger was tight for the first time in his life.

When he saw that the thread was finally, finally taut, a surge of anticipation swelled within him.

For whatever reason, the time was now. While it was a mild inconvenience that he couldn't immediately go to his soulmate due to the fact that he was in the middle of a job, it made Illumi quicken his pace as he was eager to get it over quickly. With the large briefcase that the client had instructed that he take with him in hand, Illumi kept his eyes on the thread as made his way to the site where his first target was, watching as the thread grew tighter with each passing step, indicating that he was getting closer to where he would find the one at the other end of the thread.

Illumi expected that he would see them while he was on his way to his job. Perhaps passing by on the street or in a nearby shop. Based on how the thread seemed to be staying still on his soulmate's end, it appeared as though they were staying put. Again, he was spurred forward, a small smile appearing on the assassin's face as he thought of being able to take what was his, to have that connection he had heard spoken of so often from others.

He continued, getting closer and closer to the cafe where his first target was waiting and he still had yet to come across his soulmate. When it got to the point that the cafe was within viewing distance, Illumi began to wonder if they were in that same space as the target. An odd coincidence that his soulmate would be there, but perhaps that was fate playing its hand again. Even if his soulmate saw him with the target, it wouldn't matter. As long as nothing alarming happened between himself and the target in his soulmate's vicinity, it would be of little consequence.

But when he was finally across the street from the cafe and he caught sight of that person he had been waiting for, he froze.

Despite the clouds that had gathered over the heart of the city and their efforts to hide the sky above them, bits of blue and the bright light of the sun managed to break through every now and then. Such was the case when an opening in the clouds appeared just then, allowing forth a thin ray of sunlight that came down and settled on an area with a particular person sitting in the middle of it.

You.

You sat at one of the outdoor tables at the cafe, your index finger trailing across the plastic cup that held your sweet looking drink while the toe of your shoe tapped incessantly on the pavement beneath your seat. The slightly chill air that blew by caused you to shudder slightly, and you glanced behind yourself to look inside the cafe building, as though you were considering moving inside so you could be out of the cold. When you saw that no seats were available, you frowned to yourself and ultimately stayed where you were.

Still in that sunlight and with everything in the surrounding environment pointing to you. And as you sat beneath the spotlight that nature had created for you, Illumi watched intently from the other side of the crosswalk, taking in everything about you and only tearing his gaze away for a few scant seconds to stare down at his own left hand to make sure that what he thought he saw was correct: that the red thread which was attached to his pinky truly connected him to you.

No matter how many times he checked, there was no mistaking it. His eyes that followed the thread always brought him back to you and no one else.

His soulmate.

It should have been a good moment, as it was a moment he had been anticipating for a long time now. When Illumi saw you at last, saw your face for first time after imagining it for so long, it should have been a moment where he felt at peace upon witnessing his other half.

Instead those feelings of anticipation died immediately upon seeing you, and all Illumi felt in that moment was a mild confusion accompanied by immediate concern.

It didn't appear that he was the only one who was concerned.

Despite your attempts to appear casual, it was evident from your expression that you were nervous, and your gaze kept going to a long, thin parcel that sat upright in the seat next to you. From the way you glanced about, it was clear that you were waiting for someone. As if to further prove that point to him, you took another sip of your drink as you glanced at your phone, checking the time before you scanned the area that surrounded you.

It all matched up.

Concern turned into irritation – with whom exactly, Illumi wasn't sure yet. But someone was to blame for this, someone was responsible for this situation that felt like a horrid joke. This wasn't something that shouldn't have happened, not to him. Even though he found himself hoping that he was mistaken and the real target was within the cafe building behind you, taking up one of those seats you had wished to occupy, all of it simply matched up too well.

The time was 11:15.

The location was The Nest Cafe.

You were clearly waiting for someone to arrive.

And Illumi was certain that you were waiting for him.

It felt like too much of a coincidence that you would be there for any other reason. Not at this time and with that parcel in the seat next to you, not with the way you looked at the other people in the vicinity, subtly glancing up at those who walked by close to your table in anticipation of any one of them approaching you. And if that wasn't enough, your appearance matched with who he was told would be there waiting for him to perform the exchange.

Everything pointed to you being the one he needed to meet for his job. If that truly was the case, then that meant you were his target.

One of the those he had been hired to kill.

The assassin stared at you as his mind began to race. The disbelief of how such a thing could happen, how this much of a coincidence could occur consumed him. How you had landed yourself on the radar of Edgar Farley and how you had angered him to such a degree that he decided to spend extra for Illumi to torture you and your accomplices extensively before your existence was snuffed out.

Of all the things that could have happened, how in the world had he ended up taking on a job that required him to kill his own soulmate?

Illumi didn't notice that his grip had tightened too much on the handle of the briefcase until he heard it crack, and that sound was enough to snap him out of his all consuming thoughts. He needed to continue, he reminded himself. As a Zoldyck, he needed to complete the job for the name of his family, regardless of the unforeseen circumstances which involved you.

Of course, he wasn't going to kill you, which would mean he would need to come up with some sort of solution for the sixth body Farley was demanding.

Illumi let out a small, barely audible sigh as he gathered himself up internally.

He would figure it out. There was surely a solution that would allow him to have you and complete the job without any fuss. He had no doubts on that.

But for now, his focus needed to be on getting you somewhere out of sight.

With that, Illumi waited for the light at the crosswalk, and once it turned green, he began to make his way towards you, once more keeping his eyes on you and the thread as it grew smaller and smaller.

You noticed him quickly after he had crossed the street, and when you realized that he was staring straight at you, you turned your full attention to him, straightening yourself up in your seat when you saw that he was approaching you. When he stopped in front of you, it took you a moment before you spoke as you glanced down at the briefcase he held. Illumi saw the way your pulse quickened as the gears began to turn in your head, as you came to the assumption that he was the one you were waiting for.

Illumi spoke first, calling out your name in a questioning tone.

You nodded cautiously.

“Are you, uh-”

You faltered in the middle of your sentence, seemingly taken aback by the way he was looking at you.

Was the way he was staring at you that strange?

Regaining your voice, you tried again with “you're here for the…. Uh, the thing, right?”

…… That was how you were describing this?

“Yes,” he answered.

“Ah. Okay then.”

You got up from your seat, but then stopped as you looked down at your cup.

“Did… Did you want a drink, too?” you asked.

Illumi shook his head.

“I'd rather we head off.”

“Okay. That also works.”

You took one long, last sip before tossing the cup into the appropriate receptacle before hurrying back to the table to grab the parcel, tucking it beneath your arm as you looked back at him.

“The hotel is down that way. It isn't too long of a walk. A little bit less than seven minutes,” you told him.

Illumi nodded silently, then followed once you began to make your way down the sidewalk. Keeping his eyes on you, he found that while you were once again trying to hide it, you were clearly nervous. There was a jitteriness to your step, and your fingers kept playing with one of the edges of the parcel, slowly picking at it more and more with every moment that passed as you made the walk to the hotel.

You then stiffened as though a sudden thought had struck you, and you turned your head while you walked as you asked “sorry, I should've said something beforehand about us walking. It's not an issue, right? If it is, I can get us a taxi.”

“It's not an issue,” Illumi calmly replied.

“Oh, okay then. That's good.”

Your free hand then went up to nervously scratch at the back of your neck and you let out a shaky exhale that you must have thought he wouldn't be able to catch.

Why were you doing this if it made you so nervous?

It appeared that just being involved in this situation that was causing your distress. Perhaps you actually recognized how awful this plan was; the group you were part of appeared to be a foolish lot, with none of you seeming to truly know what you were doing. Illumi hoped you weren't the ringleader, as this get rich quick scheme was already pathetic, and he found himself disappointed that you were participating in it. He'd be even more disappointed if he knew you were the one to come up with it.

At least once he was done here, he wouldn't need to worry about you being able to do anything too foolish. The leash he would keep on you would be too tight for that.

You glanced over at him again, and he grew concerned when he saw your eyes furrow in worry upon meeting his gaze again.

Were you perceptive enough to realize that something was wrong?

That turned out to be unlikely, as when an elderly man who stood a few steps in front of you sneezed unexpectedly, you jumped, and the parcel nearly dropped from your hands. No, it didn't seem likely that you were aware of anything amiss; you were simply nervous about the situation as a whole.

Illumi frowned slightly as he watched you. Your nervousness was only an additional negative in this situation. Your lack of nen meant it would be harder for you to understand the connection, and if you weren't relaxed, you were guaranteed to not feel it in a timely manner.

As much as he hated to admit it, Illumi doubted that he would be able to ease your nerves and get you to trust him, and especially not in such a short time.

There was no choice but to take you by force. While that would cause issues that would be detrimental to the connection opening for you, it was better to go through with taking you by force. The time it would take for you to accept him would be longer, but that was the safest option he had.

The silence stretched over the two of you, though it didn't seem to do much to assuage your nervousness. As Illumi continued to follow you, his gaze once again went to the parcel being carried beneath your arm. That was the item that had been the source of this entire conflict, that the client desperately wanted back. Why Farley was willing to have him kill over a piece of art, Illumi couldn't fathom, though his own opinion hardly mattered in this instance.

But as he looked at the parcel, he found that something about it felt…. Off. From what he was told about the art he was to retrieve, the dimensions of what you carried didn't seem to match up with what had been described to him. He turned his gaze back to you, boring into the back of your skull as he grew suspicious over what exactly you were carrying. Things definitely didn't need to be complicated by you not having the painting in question.

He'd find out what was going on soon enough, he supposed.

The first bit of relief within you was seen when your shoulders loosened slightly as you looked beyond the path in front of you and caught sight of a hotel. While it was better than the average cesspit hotel with clientele that consisted of drug users and married spouses in the middle of an affair, the hotel was also considerably cheaper than the place Illumi had checked out of this morning. As he followed you in through the front doors, the assassin glanced about at the lobby. There were a fair amount of people milling around, all of whom seemed to be there from out of town for some kind of sporting event. No one bothered to even glance in your direction or his when you made a turn to the left and began to lead him down a hallway on the first floor.

Again, he wordlessly followed you as you made your way to a nearby stairway, and when you looked back at him again, you asked “are you cool if we take the stairs? With all those people around, I figure it's best that we avoid them if we can.”

“I have no issue with that,” he answered. As he followed you into the stairway, he spoke again, his voice echoing slightly against the barren walls as he asked “but why are you worried about people seeing us?”

“Ah, just…. You know. If we're stuck in a small space like an elevator, then people are more likely to take note of us. See us up close, and possibly say something to the police about us if something happens,” you said.

Illumi's eyes narrowed as he asked “are you expecting something to go wrong with the exchange?”

“N-no.”

“Then why the worry?”

“Just….. Just to be safe. Just in case,” you answered, “better to err on the side of caution, right? Neither of us want to be seen with something stolen, right?”

“I suppose.”

It was more than likely for the best that you were going out of your way to avoid the other guests at the hotel. Despite having how you had seemed to calm down some once you arrived here, it seemed as though his questioning had made your nerves shoot up again, and he didn't need you drawing attention to the both of you in such a way.

The way you became nervous so easily was likely going to be a tough issue for him to tackle, however. After all, you would become an assassin like him once the two of you were married, and the fact that he could easily see you freezing up in the middle of a job didn't bode well.

That would need to be trained out of you.

But he was getting ahead of himself. After all, he needed to solve this current set of issues with you before he could consider your training. And at the moment, he felt as though a big issue was quickly being taken care of. With every step he took as he followed you up the several flights of stairs, the he was getting closer to having you alone in a controlled space. That in and of itself was enough to give him a slight sense of relief.

It seemed as though you were of the same opinion, as once you made it to the hotel room in question and entered after Illumi had, you were quick to shut the door and flip the lock, breathing in deep before letting all out in a shaky sigh.

That time he chose to make a comment.

“You don't seem well,” he said.

You startled slightly, your eyes growing wide before you tried explain it away.

“I don't?” you asked, “I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so maybe that's why. Sorry about that.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Illumi asked.

Once again, you seemed surprised at the question.

“Force of habit, I guess,” you eventually got out.

Stepping by him, you moved towards the center of the room, where a small couch and coffee table were sitting in front of the single bed. An item sitting atop the table caught his attention: one of those portable money counting machines. The transaction would be taking place there, then.

After placing the parcel on the far end of the couch, you turned to him after and you clapped your hands together in a clear attempt to change the topic, forcing yourself to smile at him as you did so as if to convince him that everything was fine. Perhaps it was a way to convince yourself as well.

“So, um,” you began, “I guess I'll start with counting the money.”

Hearing that surprised him a little.

“I don't get to see the painting first?” Illumi asked.

“Um….”

You seemed caught off-guard by that question, and you stammered for a few moments, glancing back at the parcel briefly as you tried to come up with a response. In the middle of that, you oddly took the time to look at the door of the closet that stood behind him, your gaze flitting over to it briefly before you looked at him and cleared your throat.

“Uh, I think I should count the money first,” you told him, “just to, you know, be safe.”

“You think I'm going to scam you?”

“N-no. But it's a lot of money, and we're – I'm taking a lot of risks here.”

Your gaze grew a bit more grim as you added “plus, I heard that the previous owner was something of a psychopath, so I really want to be careful, you know?”

Then why steal from him if you're worried about him retaliating?

As reasonable as it would have been to ask that, Illumi held his tongue.

“Plus, like, even if the painting was fake and I did try to grab the money and run, I don't think I'd get far, you know?” you continued.

“What makes you think that?”

“You look like you could catch me easily. So I think running would be really dumb on my part.”

After a brief pause, you then admitted “the way you've been staring at me has also been intense and you're kind of scary, so I really don't want to make you mad at me.”

Illumi blinked.

“I'm scary?” he repeated.

You blanched, as if you hadn't realized what exactly you had said until he had repeated it. Your panic began to grow again as you started to apologize.

“I'm sorry, that was really rude of me! I didn't mean to say that,” you insisted, “I just meant to say….. Meant to say that I'm not going to try anything shady. That I wouldn't do that to anyone, and definitely not you. I'm really sorry. I wasn't trying to offend you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you continued “I was told that I needed to count the jenny first, so I'm just trying to do what I was told, you know?”

“….. I see.”

From the way you reacted to his response, it seemed as though you determined that you had said something wrong, as you were quick to then tell him “sorry, I'm not trying to make things difficult. I get why you need to be cautious, because you don't know me and eight billion is a lot to be handing off to a stranger. But I promise, as soon as I'm done I'll let you confirm that it's the real thing.”

There was a hint of desperation in your gaze as you then asked “does…. Does that sound good?”

Ending the charade now would have been prudent. If he did that, he would save himself some time, get the job over with quicker so he could focus fully on you. Knocking you out and calling up the butler that was waiting on standby for him to take you away while he figured out a replacement for you would be the best way to move forward.

But he still wasn't sure what was going on with the painting and he didn't want to sour your opinion of him by torturing you on your first meeting.

So instead, Illumi nodded.

“I understand,” he told you, “I'll wait, then.”

Though it was tinged with nervousness, the smile you gave him was one of genuine relief.

“Thank you,” you said.

Illumi said nothing, but he felt an odd sensation in his heart upon seeing you smile.

Keeping his face as that same blank mask he almost always wore, he settled down onto the chair that sat opposite of the couch. You sat as well, taking the briefcase that he had offered you and setting it on the coffee table in front of you. Your eyes widened slightly when you opened it, as you likely had never seen that much jenny before in your life.

As you began to count, Illumi thought of what you had said moments ago, the things you had said about him. And as if somehow sensing what he was thinking, you looked up at him again, your eyebrows pinching in worry as you spoke up.

“I really am sorry for what I said, if it offended you,” you reiterated.

“It's fine. It doesn't matter,” he answered.

That was a lie. It mattered a lot. Especially upon realizing that his soulmate was unsettled by him to the point that they viewed him to be scary, of all things. But as he recalled the lovely expression that had been on your face when you had thanked him moments earlier, he decided that he could forgive you.

So again he held his tongue and merely observed you after the two of you had taken your seats, and he watched as you pulled out a notebook and a pen before gathering a stack of jenny and placing it into the money counter after. Shortly after, the silence in the room was broken by the sound of the rustling paper as the jenny was put through the machine and the small screen at the front displayed the total that quickly shot up as more of the money went through. Soon enough that particular stack was done, and you jotted down the number on the screen before setting the stack aside and grabbing another from the briefcase, repeating the process again.

The two of you would be here for a while.

As much as Illumi wished to have used this time to speak with you, it was clear that you wouldn't be receptive to it. You saw this as a business transaction. Any personal questions coming from him would likely only earn him more worried looks and apologies as you desperately tried not to offend him. So he sat in silence while he watched, keeping his eyes on you as you continued the monotonous task.

At the beginning you would glance up at him periodically, only to quickly avert your gaze when you saw him looking at you. Eventually you stopped doing that, and it seemed as though you were making a point to keep your focus only on your notebook, the money counter and the contents of the briefcase.

What exactly makes me so scary?

That question would need to wait until later, as much as that fact irked him.

With little else to do, Illumi glanced again at the parcel. Again, the dimensions didn't seem right to him. And as he remembered the way you had glanced over at the closet, a possible explanation began to form in his mind, but it was one he would likely need to wait for until you had finished what you were doing.

Now that his mind was again on the task at hand, he asked “how exactly did you come upon this piece?”

Tensing at the sound of his voice, you glanced up at him and then immediately averted your gaze.

“Um, I don't think I'm supposed to say anything about that. All that matters is that it's real, right?” you asked in reply.

“We're talking about a stolen art piece. We're both 'taking risks' for this, as you put it. I think I'm entitled to know how you got ahold of this,” he answered.

Your shoulders sank slightly as you appeared to concede.

“We, uh, we heard it was just sitting in storage, that no one had checked in on it in a while. So my roommate figured we could take it and no one would notice,” you quietly explained.

“It seems like he was right because it hasn't been reported missing yet,” you added.

“Your roommate?” Illumi repeated.

You froze. And then you seemed disappointed with yourself as you were forced to admit “my roommate knows a guy who works at that museum where it was stored.”

“Why aren't they here?”

“He's the one who thought of this and got everything set up. The other guys were the ones who took the painting. So this is the part I need to do.”

You quickly looked back to the money counter, once again scribbling down the number listed on the screen.

The more he learned, the more Illumi was convinced that whomever had been the mastermind of this plan – your roommate, evidently – they hadn't thought through it very well. As was usually the case for the theft of fine art. If the thief didn't have a buyer lined up beforehand, they typically had a hard time selling it off for any sort of profit. While exceptions for that rule existed, such as the Phantom Troupe whose notoriety had fans of theirs wanting to buy items that had been in their possession, a small group of first time criminals were never going to achieve such success. This entire interaction had been set up so you and others who thought about stealing from his client would learn a lesson. It was always going to end badly for your group.

The one thing Illumi could be thankful for was the fact that he had been selected to carry out the hit. It allowed him the control he needed to navigate the situation and guide it to an ending where the client was satisfied and you were still alive.

When the process of counting the eight billion finally ended and you confirmed that what was given to you was the correct amount, you shut the notebook, placed the jenny back within the briefcase and then looked to him, saying “everything looks good. I'll show you the painting now.”

Instead of handing him the parcel, you stood up and walked over to the closet that stood in front of the door, sliding it open before you reached inside. When you pulled your hand back out, you were holding another parcel.

He caught on immediately as he asked “is that the real painting?”

You looked back to him, and then nodded.

“Yeah. The one on the couch is a decoy,” you explained, “just in case.”

“Just in case?” he repeated.

“In case you thought it'd be better to take it from me when we were outside,” you said, “I figured since I'm not really intimidating at all, a potential buyer might think of stealing it and leave us with nothing, so I put the real one in here beforehand.”

When he didn't respond to that, your fingers tensed on the edge of the new parcel, looking away as you mumbled “I thought it was a good idea.”

“It certainly shows that you exercised more caution than I gave you credit for,” Illumi said.

“Thank – thank you?” you replied, uncertain if you should take his words to be insulting or not. Regardless of that, you stepped forward as you approached the coffee table once again, holding the parcel out to him to take.

You sat back down on the couch after, watching him as he undid the piece of twine that held the brown paper wrapped around the painting. You were eager to get this over with, as your hand was seated next to the handle of the briefcase, twitching every now and then as if you wanted to grab it and leave. In your mind, this ordeal was almost over, and you would soon be able to return home to your cohorts with your ill-gotten gains.

His attention was brought to the painting as he unwrapped it fully and pulled it up to inspect that it was the genuine article.

The painting was moderately sized and featured a scene that could likely be found on the cover of an average historical romance novel. At the center of the piece was a maiden upon a balcony, having just swung her legs over the railing as she sat atop it with her ankles peeking out beneath the skirt of her dress. A short distance beneath her was a knight upon his horse, reaching out to her as if beckoning her to take the leap, an assurance her that he would catch her. And in the background that featured a room that led to that balcony, a door had been forced open, with several men charging in, no doubt with the intent of grabbing the maiden before she could flee with her knight lover.

While the art of the painting was detailed and could be considered beautiful, and the piece certainly told a story, Illumi couldn't fathom how and why such a silly painting managed to cause so much trouble, much less why the owner was so incensed at it's theft that he was willing to pay so much for it's return. And if it had been that precious to him, why had Farley left it in that museum in the first place?

You leaned forward in your seat, scanning for any hint of change in his expression as he looked it over.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“It's acceptable.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You're spending eight billion and you just find it 'acceptable'?” you asked.

“All I care is that it's the genuine article,” he told you.

“Oh. Okay then.”

With a note of finality in your voice, you straightened up in your seat, your hand once more grasping the handle of the case as you said “so if you're satisfied, then we're done here, right? Transaction closed?”

Illumi nodded slowly.

“Yes, I suppose that's correct.”

“Okay then. Do you want to leave first, or should I? I'm fine if you want to go first, but I'm not sure how much time I should wait before leaving myself.”

“You aren't leaving,” he told you.

“…..”

The silence stretched out through the entirety of the room as you stared at him, your nerves slowly but steadily growing once again as you looked at him in confusion.

“But I need to take this back….?” you questioned.

“That isn't happening.”

“W-why?”

“Because I'm an assassin and I've been hired to kill you,” Illumi said, “therefore, I cannot allow you to leave this room with that case.”

You stared at him silently, your eyes widening in shock as his words sunk in. Your gaze went down to the floor as you began breathing heavily and you began to tremble. You accepted it. No questions about what he was talking about or if he was trying to joke around – you could tell he was serious.

Illumi was ready for you to do something in response. A normal reaction would likely be to run from him, either to escape out the door or the window. Both had their own pros and cons, though if it was Illumi in this situation, he would likely choose the window. Whether or not you would do the same remained to be seen. Though it was possible that you might choose to fight back, not that you would be able to do much against him. He had trained for as long as he had remembered, so no matter how strong you may potentially be, there was little chance that a civilian like yourself would be able to overpower him. The best you would be able to do would be to throw items in the room at him, and that would still be next to nothing.

He was overthinking things, because as he looked at you, he didn't see any ounce of fight in you. You were still gazing down at the floor, and while your breathing had slowed slightly, you were still in distress. If he were to guess, this must have been a worst case scenario for you, one that either the members of your group or you yourself had said couldn't possibly happen, that your luck wouldn't ever be so bad.

You even said that the client was a psychopath, so why you thought this wouldn't happen was still a mystery to him. At least he would make sure you wouldn't be making such terrible decisions in the future.

Illumi waited for you to act, already mapping out in his head what he would do in response to whatever you chose.

He waited.

And waited.

And Illumi felt confusion growing within him once more as you didn't act.

You weren't running.

Time was ticking by, and you stayed on that spot on the couch, only moving to slump backwards against the seat. Instead of attempting to save yourself from a man who just told you that he was an assassin, you stayed still, refusing to move at all. The exact opposite of running.

Illumi's brows furrowed as he asked “why aren't you running?”

You glanced up at him, surprised by his question.

“Why?” you repeated, “I guess…. I mean, what's the point? I'm in a room with you that has only one exit, and I'm pretty sure you'll catch me if I run. Actually, we had a conversation about that just a few minutes ago, didn't we? And you seemed to agree with me. So why should I bother making things worse for myself by running?”

He frowned, not liking the way you had given up so easily and accepted your fate.

“You won't even try to fight back?” he asked.

“Again, what's the point? I can tell just by looking that you're stronger than me. I don't wanna get into a fight that I know I'll lose,” you said.

Illumi blinked when you said that, hearing one of his own lessons that he had ingrained into his younger siblings coming from your lips catching him off guard momentarily. Despite not even knowing of him before this day, you already knew one of the lessons he had intended to teach you.

Within an instant, Illumi felt a bit more hopeful for you. While you seeming to accept your death was far from ideal, he was certain that he could make you unlearn that response.

You were his soulmate, after all. Teaching you would be easy.

“You do have a good point – I am stronger than you. As you are right now, you could never defeat me,” he told you.

You didn't react to his statement, instead continuing to stare down at the floor dejectedly.

“But it isn't good that you're giving up so easily. In the future, if you find yourself in this position again, you should find an escape route and remove yourself from the situation.”

At that, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him strangely.

“In the future?” you repeated, “what future? You said you were going to kill me.”

“I said that I was hired to kill you,” Illumi stated, “but that doesn't mean I'm going through with it.”

And with that, there was a bit of hope in your eyes, a bit of life breathed back into you as you straightened up, now watching and waiting intently for his every word as you now believed that there was a way out of this. Of course, there was, but it wouldn't be in the way you expected.

You gulped before you asked “you…. You're going to let me go?”

“No.”

Your shoulders sank again as Illumi continued with “I'm not killing you, but I also can't let you go. If I did that my client would find out and that would cause issues for myself and my family.”

“So then…. Then what? What happens to me? Why are you sparing me?” you asked.

“I need you alive,” he said.

“Why?”

“I'll explain that later.”

“Why?” you asked again, your voice growing a bit more fearful.

“Because I have no time to discuss it now,” he said plainly.

With that, he stood up and closed the distance between the two of you. You still didn't move when he approached, not even to scoot away to the other side of the couch. You simply sat there, cowering and fearful as you stared up at him.

“You said it was your roommate who put you up to this, correct?” he asked.

At that your eyes widened slightly before you frowned, only now realizing your slip up in having mentioned that fact.

“…. I shouldn't have said that, should I?” you asked.

Illumi nodded at you.

“In any other situation, that would have been a poor choice on your part,” he told you, “but it doesn't really matter all that much now. Your name as well as the others was already given to me. I was just made to go along with this so I could recover the painting.”

The assassin grabbed at your bag, opening it and rummaging through until he found your wallet. Shortly after he had your ID in hand, and he read the address that had been printed on the card.

“Is your roommate home right now?” he asked, not looking away from the card as he did so.

“….. I think so.”

“Will the others from your group be there?”

“I'm not sure.”

“I see.”Illumi pocketed the card before looking back to you.

“… If I told you to trust me, I'd be demanding too much from you, wouldn't I?” he asked.

“…. A little bit, yeah,” you admitted.

Nodding at your answer, Illumi said to you “I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Then the assassin stood back up -And with a quick strike of his hand at the back of your neck, you fell over on the couch as you were knocked unconscious.

Without missing a beat, Illumi pulled his cellphone from his pocket and went about dialing the number for the butler who was meant to pick him up once this part of the job was finished with. As expected, the call was picked up before the first ring had finished.

“I need you to come to the back of the Arcadia Hotel,” Illumi told the butler, not bothering with any sort of greeting or an explanation.

“Understood, Master Illumi. I'll be there within ten minutes,” they answered.

The call ended just as quickly as it had started, and Illumi looked back to you. Even in unconsciousness, you still appeared to be in distress as your brows were furrowed and you were frowning. Not even sleep could relieve you of your worries, and as he stared at you, Illumi felt an odd bit of anger rising in his chest. You were unprepared for such tasks like this one, yet those people – your roommate and whoever else was involved – had pushed you to do this regardless. They had been so irresponsible and careless that you had ended up on a hit list, and had it not been for Farley going to him specifically, someone else would have killed you.

You would have died easily had it not been for the strange coincidence of him being the one to take the job.

The thought of you dying made his anger worse, and for a brief moment, that rage seeped out, quickly filling the small space of the room and making the lights flicker from the force of it.

You didn't remain unaffected by it, either, as when you were hit with with the force of his anger, you shuddered in your sleep.

Within an instant, that anger petered out.

And without thinking, Illumi moved, hoisting you up into his arms and then settling back down onto the couch with you in his embrace. Your cheek rested against his chest while your pliant body molded against his in a comfortable fashion. An idle thought came to mind – with where your head was resting, were you able to hear his heartbeat that was next to your ear? Would you be able to tell such a thing as you were now?

That seemed to have broken Illumi out of his stupor as he blinked once again. Now truly taking in the sight of you on his lap, he realized he had acted on impulse, not really thinking about his actions when he had pulled you into his grasp. It felt strange. Physical acts like this one – to hold someone to himself – were not actions he was used to. Everyone within his family were inclined to keep physical contact to a minimum, and outside of his family, there was no one that he would allow to touch him, not without them paying for it after.

But with you, it had come naturally and with no hesitation on his part. One look at your face had driven him to hold you, as if to ease your distress while you slept. Such things that he was feeling for someone he hadn't even known an hour, and all because of a thread that you couldn't even see.

Illumi's hand went up to stroke your hair, his fingers trailing gingerly through the strands as he quietly murmured to himself “the soulmate bond is a strange thing indeed.”

Strange, that it would drive him to do something he had never once been inclined to do.

But at the same time, it felt good.

He stayed like that with you, holding you and caressing you gently. While the time passed by peacefully, the gloomy clouds that could still be seen outside the hotel room window parted, allowing the sun to filter in with a warm glow.

When Illumi's cellphone rang, it caught him off-guard. Pulling the phone out of his pocket, he found himself surprised when he saw that the aforementioned ten minutes had passed, and the butler was no doubt calling him to inform him that he had arrived.

Had the time truly passed so quickly?

His mouth set in a small frown as he lifted you back into his arms, adjusting you before he stood up and carried you out of the room.

Under normal circumstances, the butler wouldn't have needed to call for him for any reason. Any other time, Illumi would have been waiting at the aforementioned spot long before his ride would have arrived. That he had gotten so distracted simply from holding you was somewhat worrying, and he hoped this sudden distracted attitude was a one-time thing due to him finding you.

The butler he had called for was standing at the ready when Illumi walked out through the employee only door of the hotel, and they bowed respectfully when they saw him. Their gaze narrowed ever so slightly when they saw you unconscious in his arms, but they said nothing, waiting for their master to speak first.

Illumi did just that once he had reached them, stopping before them to ask “what is my schedule for the next few days?”

“During the time you spent with the target, another request came in for your services, Master Illumi,” the butler said, “two days from now, in the Kakin Empire.”

“Give it to Milluki; I'm sure whatever it is, he can handle it,” Illumi told them.

“And if Master Milluki is not available…?”

“He's always available. He never leaves home unless someone makes him.”

The butler nodded and listened intently as the assassin continued “don't bring me any assignments for the next few days. I need my schedule completely clear.”

“For this person, Master Illumi?” the butler asked as they once more looked at your unconscious form.

Illumi stared back to them intently as he said “this is my soulmate. You'll show them respect.”

At that, the butler immediately understood, bowing their head as they answered “of course, Master Illumi. My apologies.”

“You'll look after them while I complete my current job,” Illumi said, “should they wake up before I return, you will tend to their needs while keeping them safe.”

“Of course, Master Illumi.”The butler then moved to take you from Illumi's arms, but stopped when he gave them a long, hard stare.

“Open the door,” the assassin ordered.

Moving quickly, the butler did just that, opening the back door and holding it wide for him. Illumi then carried you into the car's interior and set you down onto one of the long seats, handling you gently as he did so. As he pulled back and began to step out of the vehicle, he found that he was remiss to leave you. But as he still had a job to complete, there was nothing to be done about it.

After exiting the car, he waited for the butler closed the door before turning to them one last time.

“Don't speak of the discovery of my soulmate to anyone,” he ordered, “I will let my family know in my own time.”

One last time, the butler nodded in understanding, and they waited until Illumi began to leave the area before they took their place back in the driver's seat and drove off. Illumi couldn't help but take one glance behind himself as you were driven away. Despite knowing that with the way you were laid out on the backseat and that he wouldn't be able to see you, something still caused his head to turn as he watched the car move further away, as he watched the thread from within the vehicle become more slack with every bit of distance put between the two of you.

When he returned to the hotel room to grab the painting was when he realized another mistake, an oversight on his part. Illumi froze after he entered, catching sight of something on the couch where the both of you had been sitting not so long ago:

The briefcase.

With the eight billion jenny.

The jenny that had been Farley's payment for the job, that he had intended to give to that butler so he didn't need to drag it with him when he killed the other targets. Yet it remained on the couch.

Illumi had been so concerned with getting you to safety, he had managed to forget it completely.

Pursing his lips, a small scowl made its way onto his face as he stepped forward, determining that he had no choice and that he would need to take both the briefcase and the painting when he went to the apartment where your roommate was. It was obnoxious, but he wasn't going to call back the butler.

Admitting that he had forgotten something would be far too embarrassing.

The car was driving along a lonely stretch of the two lane highway while the sun slowly descended to the earth, casting the sky in golden colors as it sank lower and lower. It had been a while now since they had left the boundaries of the city, and there was still some time before they would reach the intended destination. But with a freshly filled gas tank and a driver who was more than capable of withstanding the hours of driving that were left on the journey, Illumi doubted that there would be any delays from this point. They would arrive at one of the Zoldyck's many homes in due time, and then Illumi could get to know you.

He was currently staring at you, just as he had been at the start of the journey. After the hit job that took longer than expected to complete due to his targets being spread out and the added stress of finding someone to act as a replacement for you – all taken care of with a single needle and the disfigurement to the heads – Illumi had been eager to see you again. Though there had been a slight disappointment on his end when he entered the car and saw that you were still unconscious, he quickly overcame that when he took advantage of your current state in order to place you so that your head rested on his lap.

Just like in the hotel room earlier, it wasn't an action that he was accustomed to – he had never considered doing something like that for someone before this – but with you, it felt right. Natural.

And as he lightly brushed his knuckles against your cheek while you slept soundly under his watch, he found that he felt content. After years of waiting, of fruitlessly searching, he finally found you. Not under the best circumstances, that was for certain, but seeing how things had ultimately turned out, it was all worth the wait.

Though there did remain the matter of your reaction once you had awoken and how you would receive him once he told you the truth.

A small frown once more graced his lips. Teaching you nen and showing you that way would be the best way to prove it to you, though it would take some time. While he had no issue spending that time, he felt another pang of disappointment hit him. He liked you as you were now; pliant and accepting of his touch, as more than once when he had stroked you, you had leaned into him, subconsciously seeking him out. It felt nice, an acknowledgment of the connection that some deeper part of you surely recognized. That you would likely be resistant to him once you were awake was a shame, but one that was unlikely to be avoided.

Learning about you wouldn't come about quickly, he feared. It would take time to tear down the walls you would no doubt build around yourself. So getting to know what you were really like, the areas in which the two of you were similar and the ways in which you differed, and the way that he hoped that you would be loving with him, as was so often spoken of, all of that would only come in time.

With that in mind, Illumi was making an effort to cherish this moment on the journey, when he could caress you all he wanted without you making a fuss.

But not long after, it seemed as though that moment was coming to an end.

He noted when you began to stir awake, your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth turning into a frown as your consciousness slowly but surely returned to you. With your head still resting on his lap, Illumi watched you intently, keeping his hand on your hair. The reaction you would have when you woke up was bound to be a bad one. You would likely remember most of what had happened before he had knocked you out and you would respond with that same fear as before once you saw that you were laying in the confines of such a small space with a man who had told you he'd been hired to kill you.

Illumi anticipated how you might lash out at him, perhaps attack him if you thought you might be able to catch him off guard. Although, based on the way you had reacted back at the hotel room, it wasn't hard to imagine that you might beg him to let you go, perhaps even cry while doing so.

The mental image of you with tears in your eyes had a bad taste form at the back of Illumi's mouth as he found that the thought displeased him.

…. Hm. Just from the thought alone?

His eyes went back to the thread that connected him to you, and once more he felt a small amount of amazement at how powerful the connection was already. But with you not knowing nen, how long would it take for you to sense it?

The fluttering of your eyelids had Illumi's gaze snapping back to your face, and once more he watched intently as you were now waking up.

The look he could see in your eyes when they first opened was best described as being dazed. For a few moments, you were looking around the interior of the car, but sleep still had some hold on your mind as no reaction from you as you did so. Not until your gaze drifted upwards and you caught sight of Illumi looming over you. And even then it took a few moments of you gazing at him before your mind truly became awake.

Illumi watched as the dazed look in your eyes dissipated, the sleepiness being replaced with wide eyed shock and horror as you remembered him, your once slack jaw tightening and the breath now coming out of you harsh and fast through your nose, betraying your utter panic. You had your full attention on the assassin, staring up at him and not daring to move, even when you realized just where he had chosen to place your head during the time you were unconscious.

He didn't like the way you looked at him, but Illumi supposed that he shouldn't blame you too much for that reaction. He also supposed that he would need to be the one to start a dialogue between the two of you, as you seemed too terrified to speak.

Yet you managed to do something unexpected.

With your voice croaking out of your throat and your lips barely moving, you managed to get out a single “hi.”

Illumi blinked in surprise, but then chose to copy you as he responded with a similar “hello.”

He stayed quiet after, giving you the opportunity to speak on your own again.

You did just that. After your gaze went back to your surroundings, you looked him in the eyes again as you mumbled out “we're in a car.”

“We are,” Illumi agreed.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Why else would we be in a car?”

“Ah, right. Sorry. That was a stupid question.”

You were having an easier time speaking, though the wild look of panic in your eyes had yet to go away.

“Can I…. Can I ask where we're going?” you then said, your gaze now on what little you could see through the tinted windows.

“Somewhere safe.”

“…. Safe for who?”

“Safe for us both.”

You blinked.

“What does that mean?” you asked.

Illumi raised an eyebrow as he replied “I should think you would understand what that means. I don't believe I've said anything confusing.”

“I mean, well……”

You glanced away again before saying “it just feels like you're being a little vague with what you're saying. Plus, you could be lying to me.”

Illumi cocked his head as he asked “why do you think I'm lying?”

“You weren't being very truthful earlier,” you reluctantly answered.

He frowned at that.

“You're saying that I lied to you?” he asked.

You nodded.

“When did I lie?”

“With the whole exchange,” you mumbled, “you were pretending to be a buyer.”

“I never claimed to be. You only asked if I was there for 'the thing',” he pointed out.

“But you're an assassin.”

“I never said that I wasn't.”

“You lied by omission.”

Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.

“Not mentioning something counts as lying?”

“….. Yeah.”

That answer had come out more mumbled, as though you weren't willing to admit that he was right.

It was rather cute, but commenting on that fact was unlikely to be received well in that moment.

As you had quieted down, he took the opportunity to speak as he said “regardless of if I was lying or not earlier, I'm telling the truth when I say that I intend to keep both of us safe. I hope you believe me on that. It's the least you could do after the trouble you've caused for me today.”

You looked up at him in confusion as you repeated “trouble?”

Illumi nodded, repeating the word “trouble. With you getting on that hit list, you put me in an awkward situation.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“Oh. Sorry, I guess.”

You hadn't relaxed much since waking up, but it seemed to be a good sign that your voice wasn't shaking quite as much anymore.

“I never imagined I'd manage to fuck up badly enough to make things difficult for an assassin,” you added.

Under normal circumstances, Illumi would have considered such a reaction – such words – to be odd, especially coming from someone who knew that he had been hired to kill them. But as he thought on it more, perhaps it wasn't so strange. You were his soulmate, and while you had spent the majority of the car ride unconscious, perhaps the physical contact made with him keeping your head on his lap had been enough to awaken the connection subconsciously.

To test that, Illumi reached a hand towards your cheek, eager to see what your reaction would be. When you did nothing other than stare at his palm before it made contact with your skin, he felt as though he was proven correct. When he began to softly stroke your cheek and he felt you stiffen slightly before relaxing in his touch, the assassin couldn't help but smile.

This was going even better than he hoped.

Finally responding to your last statement, Illumi told you “it's alright. Everything managed to work work out regardless.”

“That's good, I guess.”

You gulped before taking in another breath, and then you spoke up again.

“Not that your lap isn't….. Comfortable, but are you okay if I sit up? Continuing the conversation like this feels awkward,” you said.

Despite not wanting to grant that request after enjoying the time he'd had with you in that position, Illumi pulled his arms away and leaned back slightly as he answered “of course.”

That you sat up immediately and scooted just a few inches away was again displeasing to Illumi, but he told himself that it was good that was all you were doing. That you were being so reasonable was a very good thing for himself, as well as for you.

Looking about the car once more, this time while sitting up, your gaze lingered briefly on the butler in the front seat, as though you hadn't noticed them before. Whatever you made of their presence was unknown as you tore your gaze away to look again at Illumi.

“Can I ask more questions or do you want me to shut up?” you asked.

“You may ask as many questions as you like,” Illumi told you, “I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“Ah. Okay. Um…”

Your fingers played with the hem of your shirt while you formulated your question, something Illumi found his gaze drawn to. He remembered the way in which you had toyed with the paper of the decoy parcel, and it seemed to him that you had a habit of fidgeting whenever you were nervous.

“You said…. You said you were hired to kill me, right?” you asked.

Illumi nodded.

“And you…. Didn't?”

“You're alive right now, aren't you?”

“I mean, I think so,” you said, “this would be one weird afterlife to end up in.”

“I just – I don't want to sound ungrateful,” you added, “but I have to admit that I'm really confused about why I'm still alive. I really thought I was going to die earlier – you said you'd been hired you to kill me, so I don't get why you didn't go through with that.”

“It's because I can't kill you,” Illumi answered.

You picked up on his choice of wording as you repeated “Can't? Not 'won't'?”

“Exactly. I can't.”

“Why?”

Without wasting a breath, Illumi said “because we're soulmates.”

Upon hearing that response, you didn't reply. You stared up at him blankly, blinking every now and then as though you were still processing his words. Seconds ticked by as you stayed like that, and Illumi stayed quiet in turn. As he had been telling himself before, he should anticipate a reaction of disbelief from you. Based on your current temperament, you likely wouldn't lash out, though if you were to do so, it would be from desperation and panic.

“Soulmates?” you repeated, “is that similar to love at first sight or something? You saw me and felt I was the one?”

“No. When I say we're soulmates, I mean that the two of us are literally soulmates.”

Illumi lifted up his left hand as he told you “there's a thread that spans the space between the both of us, that connects the two of us together. We're meant to be with one another.”

You looked to his hand and then to your own.

“I'm…. I'm not sure I see a thread,” you said.

“That's because you aren't able to yet, but it's there.”

“…… Oh.”

Illumi blinked at your lackluster reaction, wondering if that really was all you had to say about that.

But you next response was what truly surprised him, as after taking a moment to seemingly mull it over, you let out a small response that simply consisted of a single word.

“Okay.”

Illumi blinked again and he stared at you, uncertain if he had really heard you say what he thought you said. Even the butler who had remained quiet throughout the whole exchange glanced back with a puzzled expression on their face.

Upon seeing his reaction, your eyebrows furrowed and your anxiety began to build again.

“Was…. Should I not have said that?” you asked, “were you really joking when you said that?”

Your question snapped Illumi out of his slight stupor.

“I wasn't joking,” Illumi clarified, “I'm telling the truth. You're my soulmate.”

Upon hearing him again, you nodded slightly as you let out a soft breath. And then you said it again.

“Okay.”

…. You were accepting it that easily?

Illumi wasn't sure what to say, and that in of itself was strange for him.

He must have been looking at you strangely again because your nerves only continued to grow.

“Did I say something wrong? You don't seem very happy,” you said.

“… I'm a little surprised,” Illumi admitted, “I thought it would take more to convince you on account of you being unable to see the thread yourself, at least at this moment in time.”

“Ah, I guess that is a little weird,” you said, scratching the back of your neck as you added “but if that's what you say is the truth, then I'll believe you.”

“You'll believe me?” Illumi repeated.

“Y-yeah. I mean, if you kill people for a living and you chose not to kill me, then you must have had a good reason not to, right? And if you say that it's because we're soulmates, then I'll trust that that's the truth. You told me to believe in you, right?”

Remembering his words from earlier, he nodded in agreement as he confirmed “I did say that.”

You nodded in turn as you said “so I believe you.”

It looked as though you were going to say something further after reiterating that last point, but when you opened your mouth, you seemed to reconsider whatever you had planned on saying. So you shut your mouth and remained silent while you went back to fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, though you made an effort to relax yourself as you leaned against the back of the seat.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I'm fine,” you said, “it's a bit much to take in, but I'll manage.”

You then spoke up once more as you asked “can I ask another question?”

“Of course.”

“What happened to my roommate and the others?”

“They're dead.”

You went quiet after Illumi's blunt response, and though he could see that you were once more attempting to keep your expression level, the panic in your eyes was easy to spot.

“Their bodies will have been handed over to the client by now, as well as the painting that your friends stole,” he said.

“…. But…. Does he know about me? Or did you not tell him?” you asked.

“I told you before: he was already aware of your involvement. He knew all of you, and he could have disposed of you on his own. He went out of his way to choose me because he wanted you four to suffer,” Illumi answered, “but not to worry. I found a solution in your case. Farley has no idea that you aren't dead. Even if the unlikely happens and he comes across you, he wouldn't dare do anything to you, not if he wants to risk bringing down the wrath of the Zoldyck family upon him. Once we are married and you have my name, he'll be none the wiser.”

Unfortunately, it didn't appear that you truly heard him, as when he told you that you could have been disposed of earlier, a look of dread passed over you and sweat started to bead on your neck. When your breathing grew harsher, he grew concerned once more. And when you suddenly clamped both of your hands over your mouth, Illumi stopped speaking completely, his gaze narrowing in question.

“What is it?” he asked.

“….. Could we pull over?” you asked back, your voice muffled by your hands.

Upon hearing that, Illumi grew suspicious as he asked “why?”

“I'm gonna throw up.”

“…. Oh.”

Within seconds the car had pulled over to the side of the deserted road, and a few mere moments after that you were on your knees in the nearby grass, your arms holding yourself up as you violently emptied the contents of your stomach, gagging while tears began to fall down your cheeks.

Perhaps there had been something in that drink you had gotten at the cafe that didn't agree with you, Illumi thought to himself. Though regardless of the cause it wasn't an ideal look, especially not for someone who was going to marry into the Zoldyck family. But he found himself willing to forgive you for it. You would need to learn to toughen up but for the time being…. For the time being he would offer you some grace and refrain from commenting on it.

It also might ensure everything would go smoothly between the two of you if he treated you gently.

He then caught sight of the way the butler was looking at you. They were still at their place at the door, holding it open with a water bottle in hand that was clearly intended for you. But as they gazed at the state you were in, there was an obvious look of disgust in their eyes. As they watched you while you were on your knees and retching, it was clear that they thought little of you, clear that they felt you were unworthy of the position within the family that they served.

A rush of anger swelled within the assassin when he saw that look.

The butler noticed instantly when Illumi fixed his death glare upon them, and they were quick to bow their head in submission, wordlessly apologizing to him for their transgression.

Neither said anything, though the butler did visibly tense when Illumi approached him. Instead of disciplinary action, the assassin simply snatched the bottled water from the butler's hand before making his way to your side. Once your vomiting spell had come to an end and you were merely left gasping and coughing, he had knelt down beside you, holding the water out for you.

“Drink. Vomiting leads to dehydration,” he told you.

You took the bottle without question, using it first to wash out the taste in your mouth before gulping down half of the contents in several long gulps. When you pulled the bottle away to breathe out through your mouth in what sounded like relief, Illumi placed his hand on your back and rubbed it soothingly.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked after a moment.

It took you a moment to respond to his question, but you eventually nodded 'yes'.

“That's good.”

Illumi's hand settled on your shoulder as he then asked “do you think you can get back into the car?”

That time, the moment you took to answer was even longer than the last one, but once more you gave a nod in response.

“Sorry for making you stop,” you answered as you pulled yourself to your feet, “I figured you didn't want vomit covering your nice seats.”

“It wouldn't have mattered. Such things can either be cleaned or replaced,” Illumi answered.

He tilted his head to the side as he asked “do you need me to carry you?”

Once more you froze for a brief second, but then you shook your head and gave him a small smile as you answered “the car isn't that far away. I'll be fine walking.”

“Thank you for offering, though,” you quickly added.

“Of course.”

Though secretly, Illumi wished you had said 'yes'.

It was made up for soon after once you were both sitting in the car's interior once more. When Illumi sat down next to you, close enough that his arm was brushing against yours, you didn't make any move to get away from him, instead allowing him to remain close.

As the car started up again and began to drive off, you spoke up to ask “does anyone else know about this?”

“That you were my target?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Only you, myself and the butler. And they won't inform anyone,” Illumi told you confidently.

“But doesn't the client know me?” you asked.

“The matter for the client has been settled. I very much doubt he will remember your name or your face come tomorrow.”

“So as long as I stay with you, I'll be safe,” you said, seeming to state that fact out loud more to yourself.

Illumi replied anyway, saying “of course. Protecting one's soulmate is only natural.”

You nodded in understanding again while you fiddled with the water bottle, picking at the plastic labeling with your fingernails.

You weren't completely at ease then, Illumi determined. Despite what you had told him, there was something that was making you nervous, and he found himself thinking that perhaps it was him. You were the one who had said he was scary, after all.

It was a shame that you would lie and say the things you thought he wanted to hear, but once again he told himself that this was still better than what he had been expecting. Even if you weren't being truthful, you were being compliant, and that made things easier for him, as opening the connection for you would be less difficult if you weren't fighting him.

He wanted to talk with you more, learn more about you and get to know how you truly felt about all of this-

But as had now become a pattern, what you did next surprised him.

You leaned against him, the tension in your body slowly leaving while he felt the weight of your cheek resting on his shoulder.

Illumi blinked, looking down at you with his lips parted slightly as he felt a warmth blooming in his chest from the contact. Just as it had those times before, the feeling of you against him was strangely intoxicating. But unlike earlier, this time you were conscious for this moment, and not only that, you had been the one to initiate it.

He noted the way your eyes flitted about and how your expression grew in worry upon seeing his reaction. It seemed as though you were going to pull away.

He was fast to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you in closer.

You stiffened slightly, but eventually relaxed as you shifted to a more comfortable position, resting your head against him once again, though there was still a hint of that tension in you.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice low.

“….. It's a little scary that you could've killed me,” you told him.

“Ah, I suppose it was,” he admitted.

Illumi leaned back into the seat while continuing “it was the last thing I had ever expected. To think, that my client would hire me to kill my own soulmate. How are odds like that even possible?”

You stayed quiet after that, but when he glanced back down at you, he saw the gears in your head turning.

“…. Maybe you were supposed to get me as a target,” you then said.

“Of course I was supposed to; Farley hired me specifically,” he told you.

“No, I mean….”

You turned in your seat to face him fully, which came as an annoyance to him as you pulled away from him slightly. You then clarified “with us being soulmates, we were supposed to come together eventually, right? Maybe… Maybe my getting mixed up in that and you being hired was meant to be. Maybe if that hadn't happened, we never would have met. Like fate.”

Illumi blinked.

Then he gazed up while he grasped his chin thoughtfully as he considered your words.

“I hadn't thought of that,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“No. I was far too focused on getting out of the situation to consider that,” he admitted, “but with the unlikeliness of it all, that may very well be the only explanation.”

Illumi looked back to you, smiling as he said, “I think you're right.”

You smiled in response.

It was the second time you had done so, and once again, it was tinged, tainted somewhat, with that hint of fear. It confirmed to him that you were saying what you thought he wanted you to, making an effort to play nice with him. But even if your words had been born out of that, they rang more true than you thought.

You would come to that realization at a different time.

Illumi pulled you in again, and you didn't resist as he did so. With you comfortably resting against him once more, he found that he felt at peace. He finally had what he had been searching for – his illusive soulmate, brought to him under the most unexpected circumstances, but still sitting safely in his arms.

While you weren't as receptive to his words as you were portraying yourself to be, Illumi was certain that he could change that.

And he was certain that would take no time at all.

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 4

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Gone.

The only word that ran through your mind as you lay in bed staring into space.

He was gone again and you thought the last time was bad. Now you’re here in his bed, his house, but he won’t be coming home.

You weren’t his wife let alone his girlfriend, but he designated you his beneficiary. All of his belongings, his money, but you would give it all just to have him back.

The Hunter’s Association had placed you on bereavement leave but you didn't want to stay in your cold, lonely house. At least here in his home, you could be close to him in some way.

You felt a small flutter in your stomach, placing a hand on it, you pressed back. You were 16 weeks now, the baby had just started moving to the pint that you could feel it just a bit.

It felt like a bubble expanding inside before popping. All that was left of Caleb in this world for you now.

When you had first learned that you were pregnant, it had been a happy surprise. But now it felt like the universe had given you this child knowing what would happen down the line.

You didn’t want a consolation prize, you wanted Caleb.

He deserved to be here. Feeling these first movements, oo and aahing over your burgeoning belly, fattening you up with good food.

Picking out furniture for the nursery, buying tiny baby socks, holding your hand as you groaned over round ligament pain.

You turned onto your back, dead eyes watching dust motes float across the ceiling.

Hunger was a stranger to you this past week. You set up a basket next to the bed full of crackers, dried fruit, protein bars and a bottle of electrolyte water.

You didn’t care much for yourself but this baby, Caleb’s baby deserved the world.

This baby deserved their daddy!

You thumped your fist into the duvet beside you. Tears leaked a bit from the sides of your eyes.

Emotions spilling over, gasping a bit, you had to get this out! Grabbing your phone, you opened your camera.

Caleb would never see these but you had to talk to him somehow.

Even with the camera on, all you could do was sob.

“Caleb…… Caleb….. why did you have to leave me again?”

Saying his name like a prayer, like it would bring him home if you said it enough.

“Losing you once was hard enough but now I know what you feel like. How it feels to be wrapped in you all night. Losing you again is like I’m half a person now.”

Your chest feels wet from all the fallen tears and wiping your face does nothing to staunch the flow.

“The only reason I feel like I’m going on now is because of this little bean.”

Placing your hand on your stomach, you feel a resounding flutter. Which makes you smile pathetically.

“They’re moving now. I can feel them and it’s the only thing that excites me now. I was so scared that I might lose them too actually.”

Your heart clenches at the thought of losing the last piece of Caleb that you have.

“I have your house, your clothes, everything you left behind. I wanted you but I still have this.”

You rub your hand over your stomach, showing your stomach to the camera

“Look,” you sniffle as you know he never will now “I’m finally popping out a bit. A real pregnancy belly.”

Turning the camera, you show off your basket of emergency baby food.

“Don’t come down from heaven, wait, if you can please do that. But don’t worry, I’m still eating as well as I can under the circumstances and drinking water.”

Shakily breathing, you look into the camera as if Caleb is on the other side.

“I miss you. I love you.”

Shutting the camera off, emotionally spent. You curled back up in Caleb’s duvet, it still had a little bit of his scent left behind but that would soon fade.

Just like he did.

Your phone buzzes, a text coming through. Grabbing it to see, you notice the missed calls and texts from Jenna, Tara, Xavier asking about you. You couldn’t deal with them right now.

The new text was a text reminder from your OB about your appointment in a few days. They only want to see you every four weeks at this point.

You had let them know about your circumstances and they let you know what to watch out for in case something did happen.

Well in case, you didn’t want to even think about it, but in case you started losing the baby.

“Please be safe little one.” Brushing over them with a gentle hand, they were all you had left to love in this world.

The morning of your OB appointment, you head back to Linkon to visit Akso Hospital.

It was a quiet but dreary morning. The middle of winter was upon the world so you were bundled up. Your small bump more pronounced under the winter coat.

Waiting in the lobby after checking in, you sit next to another pregnant woman.

She glances at you and smiles a bit before nodding in greeting.

“How far along are you?”

“Oh, I’m 16 weeks but almost 17 weeks.”

“Wow!” She claps her hands, she looks to be much farther along than you.

“So you’ll be going in for your anatomy scan soon. Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

“I actually haven’t given it much thought, I just hope they get here safely.”

“That’s my exact feeling! My husband wants a girl though. Does your partner have a preference?”

The question was innocently asked but it made your stomach twist.

“I don’t know if he did. He died before he found out that I was having a baby.”

The silence that followed was heavy. The other woman twists her hands and looks like she badly wants her name to be called next.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump that on you. Not your fault, really.”

You smile a bit and then you hear your name called. Getting up a bit awkwardly, you trundle over to the nurse with the clipboard.

They weigh you before you bringing you into a small examination room. The OB comes in five minutes later, looking cheerful.

“How has your pregnancy been?”

“It’s been good, I started feeling them move a bit recently.”

“That’s great! Hopefully they’ll be cooperative in a few weeks when you come back in for your anatomy scan.”

“Ha, hopefully.” Your heart wasn’t really in this but it was necessary. Caleb would want you to have a good life with your baby.

“Everything good at home?” The OB asks this as she examines your belly while you lie down.

“It’s been rough. I’m worried that I’m going to do something wrong and I’ll lose the baby.”

“Yes I read in your chart about what happened. I’m sorry to hear about that. But, as long as you don’t overdo it and take care of yourself. There’s no reason to worry!”

She pulls her gloves off with a flourish

“After all! Your weight gain is back on track and everything else looks great. We do need you to do a gestational diabetes test but other than that. You are golden!”

This does bring some comfort to you, your efforts weren’t wasted after all.

You sit up and thank her with a small but genuine smile.

“If you need someone to talk to, I have a social worker and therapist you could contact.”

“Maybe.”

“Well I’ll put their information on your after visit paperwork, don’t forget to schedule your anatomy scan and you can come in anytime for your sugar test!”

Your OB leaves the room with a cheerful wave. At least that’s over now, you thought to yourself.

You exit the offices, going back into the lobby where thankfully the lady you had that awkward conversation with was gone.

“Are you here for an appointment?”

Turning around at the voice, it’s Zayne.

“Actually I just finished with my OB, I’m going to head home for the day.”

He reaches out and touches your shoulder, gently as if you’ll break from anything more.

“Why don’t you come get some lunch with me?”

“What you usually eat can’t be considered a proper lunch Zayne.”

“Really? Have your eating habits been exemplary as of late?”

“Well I do have an excuse but for your information, I am eating lots of basic things that I need. I won’t neglect my baby.”

“What about neglecting yourself?”

You look at that. That was a subject that was too difficult to talk about.

Zayne knew about the whole situation with you and Caleb now. You didn’t tell him before when your relationship had been all up in the air but it didn’t seem to matter now.

He sighed before motioning you to follow him.

“Come on, I’ll buy you something to eat.”

Well, you were due to eat anyway. So you followed him to the nearby cafe where you had ran into him before.

A basic sandwich was on the menu for you today.

Sitting down at the table with Zayne was a hint of normalcy that you hadn’t had in a while.

Picking at your sandwich listlessly, you stare out the window at the cloudy sky. All you did nowadays was think, letting your mind roam and thoughts were all you had to keep you company during lonely nights.

“Hey.” You turn your head head to meet Zayne’s eyes over your sad sandwich “Where you are you going off to?”

“My mind goes everywhere now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.”

He sips his drink, looking at you over the rim.

“You know, I knew Caleb too. We all grew up together. He got on my nerves but I missed him bugging me when I left when we were younger.”

Smiling at the thought of the two of them bantering when you guys were younger.

“Yeah, you guys always fought over my head. I was always stuck in the middle.”

He chuckles a bit before sobering.

“I’m worried about you, I want to help. I-“

Cutting himself off, he takes a deep breath as if preparing for something.

“I could marry you to help out.”

Your jaw drops

“You want to marry me?”

“I want to help you. I care about you and I’m offering this, you don’t have to but I just want you to know that I’m here for you however you need me.”

“Caleb left everything he had to me, I don’t need any money or a place to stay.”

“Just having someone there to rely on or to help with the baby even. Again, you don’t have to, it’s a no pressure offer. Okay?”

You had never heard Zayne talk like this, he must really be worried to express himself this much.

“I- well thank you Zayne, for the offer. But it’s not something I can even think about at this time.”

“I understand, it’s just an open offer.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you, you deserve a marriage where someone actually loves you. Someone who isn’t coming with the baggage of a dead love and another man’s baby.”

You pack your half a sandwich left, up in the box it came in.

“Thank you for lunch, I’ll head home now.”

Leaving before he can say a word, you head over to the transit center to head back to Skyhaven.

Caleb’s house was now your only true personal haven.

Laying down in your bed after putting the sandwich in the fridge, you let out a loud groan.

Why was everything such a mess?

A small flutter brought a smile to your face.

“At least I still have you little one.”

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08 @dummiebunny

[cherriegyuu]

whispers of desire | c.sc | part one

pairing: incubus seungcheol x f!reader  genre: smut, angst, fluff - minors do not interact word count: 7.3k summary: when you cut a deal with the demon king, the man who shows up to help is nothing like you imagined warnings: mentions of god, demons and religion, infertility, infidelity, knives, breeding kink, masturbation, creampie, dirty talking ish, begging, multiple orgarms, unprotected sex, piv, forced orgasm. jeonghan (idk, he deserves a warning too)

a/n: and finally after i don't even know how many months, i finished part one. i really want to thank @ssinboo who not only helped me brainstorm this, but who motivated me into picking it up again. @joonsytip and @nothoughtsjustfic who read it over and promised me that it was good. thank you so much to all three of you, this one would have never left my wips if not for you. i truly hope you enjoy this and if you do please leave comment, i would love to know you thoughts about it! it's 17 minutes past midnight, but i'm going to count this as a valentine's day special

You looked once again at the waiting room—the light gray walls, the black furniture, the small splashes of color here and there. It was mostly modern and imponent but dark. You felt out of place in your bright yellow sweater and almost white pants. You looked like an egg, but when you realized what you had done, it was too late. You were already in the Uber, getting the most incredulous look from the driver. 

The watch on your wrist seemed to mock you. You arrived too early for your appointment, too nervous to stay any longer in your apartment, too queasy to go to the nearby cafe and waste some time. 

You had been sitting on that extremely comfortable couch for 10 minutes, the pretty receptionist giving you suspicious looks followed by insincere smiles. You were so close to just getting up and walking out the door.

It had been a stupid idea. A desperate attempt at one last resort to reaching your dream. The one thing you wanted in life since you were sixteen. But it was, indeed, stupid. How was it possible that a man without a last name, who obviously wasn’t a doctor, could help you get pregnant? Even if he happened to have a magic dick, which you doubted, there was still no chance of you getting pregnant. The problem wasn’t on the sperm donor, it was in you. 

For years, you tried getting pregnant. During the first year you and your husband, now ex-husband, tried in the most natural way: fucked every chance you got, at the most random places, tracking your cycles every month. You knew that for some people getting pregnant took a little more time, so at first, you didn’t think much of it. You managed to convince yourself that the reason why you weren’t getting pregnant was because you had just gotten off birth control and sometimes — most times — the hormones messed up a little too much with the body.

After a year, something felt strange, and little red signs started to go off in your head. It wasn’t natural to take that long, at least according to everyone you knew, so you set a meeting with the doctor and did all the tests in the book. When the results came back and showed that you were infertile it was like the world came crashing down.

In life, many of your plans failed and many of your dreams were taken from you, however being a mother was one that you always carried with you. It was a dream that was yours, truly yours and you didn’t need anyone to make it happen for you. Of course, you couldn’t make a baby on your own, but in the end, it was always your choice. If you didn’t have a husband, you could go to a sperm bank and just choose someone.

Along with your dream, your marriage was also one that didn’t last long. After the initial shock of not being able to have a baby slowly started to pass and the fog that clouded your mind started to lift, you started to think of other ways you could become a mother.  Adoption seemed like a natural path. Your husband, however, didn’t agree with the idea, which led to many fights and eventually a divorce.

The idea of adoption didn't leave you, so you sought out ways to adopt on your own. While the adoption process in itself was excruciatingly difficult as a married person, by yourself was nearly impossible. You went to many people and asked for advice on how to proceed, how to present yourself, what to say and do in front of the social workers. All of them said the same thing “the chances of you getting approved for adoption are very low”.

Every day that went by, with each breath you took, you felt as if the dream of being a mother escaped you, like sand slipping through your fingers.

One day, like many others, you were searching for ways to adopt as a single parent when you came across a forum post talking about an unnamed man who could get anyone to do anything, even things that seemed impossible. You had snorted at the post and almost closed the tap when the word pregnancy seemed to flash in front of your eyes, like a moth drawn to a flame. After you saw it, there was no way you could have closed the tab and moved on to something different. 

You read post after post, comment, after comment, about all of these women who had gotten pregnant after losing all hope. All of them mentioned the same name, Jeonghan. There was no last name. On the very last post was a phone number.

There wasn't enough time to question yourself or your actions, the next thing you knew you had the phone pressed to your ear, setting up a meeting for later that day.

The fact that you were able to set an appointment on such short notice should have made alarms ring in your head. But the alarms only went off while you sat in the waiting room. 

You suddenly stood up and walked to the pretty secretary who was hiding behind the computer.

“Sorry, hi” you waited until she looked at you, and the same polite smile greeted you “Something came up, I need to leave… I'm really sorry”

As the words left your lips the door on the other side of the waiting room opened. A man with a kind smile and hair long enough to cover his forehead greeted you. Despite his smile being inviting, his eyes told an entirely different story. 

“Please, come in”

The little alarms inside your mind suddenly turned silent and the need to flee turned into the desire to follow him inside that office. 

You turned to look at the receptionist, who in return offered you an encouraging nod and smile.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I had some files that needed attention”

The man, who you could assume was Jeonghan, pulled a chair for you to sit on. He only let go of the chair once you were seated.

“It's okay”

His office was very similar in style to the waiting room, except for the leather chair and the industrial-looking desk. There was no computer, no bookshelf, no degree attached to the wall, just some creepy paintings that looked maybe a little too dark and tenebrous to an office. His desk was also empty of any files, phones, and pens. It was hard to believe that he was going over some files when there was nothing to look at.

“How can I help you today?”

For a second his eyes turned dark, entirely black, before going back to the dark brown color. Eyes of a snake, the words flashed in front of you. Your hold on the straps of your purse tightened until your knuckles turned to white.

It was a mistake going there.

It took an enormous amount of strength to push your body into a standing position.

“I'm sorry, I can't stay” you managed to force the words out, doing your best to smile and sound apologetic “Something came up”

Jeonghan leaned forward, his chin resting on his hand.

“Now, we know that's a lie” there was humor in his voice “You came here for a baby, so do us both a favor and sit down”

It was like your will to leave the room was suppressed by a hand pushing you down back on the chair. That same hand seemed to be holding you in place.

“See? That wasn't so hard”

The back of your neck started to grow cold, your hands sweaty. Your heartbeat with the force of a horse. His eyes turned into snake eyes once again. You felt your entire body grow cold. This time he flashed his eyes for a little more than a second.

“If you promise to be good, I'll stop holding you down” he raised his eyebrows at you, his tone almost bored now “Okay?”

It was a strange sight, a man who was around your age — or at least you thought so –, with soft features to have such eyes. Strange didn't even start to describe it, terrifying was a more precise word, and yet, you weren't scared. 

Perhaps you were at first, after all your initial reaction had been to escape, but while sitting there looking at him you were just curious.

“If you can stop with the eyes,” you used your index and middle finger to point at your own eyes “sure, we'll talk”

Jeonghan pouted but complied. In a millisecond the snake eyes were gone at the same time the pressure on your shoulders subsided. 

“You don't know how to have fun, do you?”

You didn’t bother to answer, you knew that no matter what you said those words wouldn’t make any difference to him and you were sure that your definition of fun was entirely different from his.

“So, a child. That's what you want, your deepest desire?” Jeonghan raised a hand to stop you from talking as if he changed his mind “Of course it is, you don’t have to say it”

It was the way he said it that made a shiver run through your spine. You shouldn’t have gone there. You should have asked someone else to go with you, though who could have been that person was unknown to you.

“Did you bait me into coming here?”

“Well, yeah” he laughed “I'm sure you saved that forum but if you go back there won't be much to see. Let's be realistic here and say that what you want, can be done”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. It wasn't a reaction to what he had said, it was to what you had believed. 

“You were so pathetically desperate that it was so easy getting to you” Jeonghan taunted you “Just one word, one post on a random website was enough to get you here and so fast too! Was it a couple of hours ago?”

Biting your bottom lip was the only possible way to keep your mouth shut, to keep the very much not polite fuck you in the silence of your mind. You tried to get up again, not really willing to sit there and be mocked, but as soon as you made the slightest movement you felt that hand again on your shoulder holding you down, this time much more forceful than the previous one.

“You said that we were going to talk, so, let’s talk”

“I want to go,” you said between your teeth “now”

Jeonghan tilted his head to the side, his snake eyes making an appearance again.

“Silly girl, you should have listed to your grandma when she warned you about what your wishes could bring” a sickening smile made its way to his face, paired with his eyes made your stomach drop all the way down to your toes “Now you can only leave when I saw so”

A sudden memory crossed your mind, one from your childhood. Of you sitting in your grandma’s lap when you couldn’t be older than seven. She said don’t wish for impossible things, you never know who or what could be listening. Your grandma was catholic, always with her rosary in her hand, or wrapper around her wrist or on her neck.

It became painfully obvious who Jeonghan was. From the snake eyes, the smile, how graceful he looked.

“Shit” the curse was almost silent.

He smiled once again, his eyes back to normal. It was all the confirmation you needed from him.

Nights had become a lonely part of the day, not that they were eventful before the divorce but at least you weren't always by yourself. 

Somehow you had allowed yourself to become one of those people who are only friends with their husband's friends so when the divorce happened it was obvious that most Of them — in this case, all of them — stayed with your ex-husband. You also hadn't really helped the situation when you closed yourself off. It had become too much, finding out that you were infertile, a possible affair from your husband, and the inevitable divorce. It was only natural for you to isolate yourself.

It seemed though that not many people seemed to understand it. Your so-called friends, who you cried with when the results came back, seemed to think that crying over was ridiculous, that one week was more than enough to move on from the entire thing, it's not like you don't have a life outside of this dream. 

And while all of that was true, it was much easier saying it than doing it. You felt as if you were spiraling down with nothing to hold onto, without anyone by your side. 

So, nights by yourself, with a bottle of wine and some takeout had become your new normal.

You were in the kitchen when you heard a faint knock on the door. Since visitors were few and you weren't expecting anyone, you assumed that it was on your neighbor. Someone probably knocking with a little more strength than necessary. It wasn't unusual. Your neighbor had loud and often drunk friends you had gotten used to their shenanigans during the three years you lived there.

All you did was keep doing the dishes, swaying your body from side to side with the music you had been playing in the background as you tried your best to forget that entire week and how you had willingly walked into a pile of shit but had no idea of how to get out of it.

The sound of the door opening made you close the faucet. A look at the clock above the door told you that there was no way for your neighbors to be back yet, not when you had heard them leave less than an hour before. You didn’t know why you thought that it could have been them. There was no doubt that the opened door was in your apartment.

You took a knife from the holder, wrapping your hand tightly around the handle. Your hand was still wet from doing the dishes so you held onto the knife as strongly as you could, until your knuckles turned white.

The one good thing about old apartments is that there were certain places that cracked and you knew exactly where those were, so you also knew how to avoid them. Whoever was in your apartment didn’t.

A small part of your brain hoped that it was your ex-husband. If it was, the worst thing that would happen was for you to look like an idiot in front of him, for the millionth time since you met him. Looking stupid was much much better than having to deal with an intruder or a murderer.

You took one last breath before pushing your bedroom door fully open.

“Don’t you dare throw that knife at me”

A man in a purple suit stood in the center of your room. His hair was bright red, pushed back. He looked like he had come out of one of those comic books your brother read as a child. He had your wedding album in his hand. He went through the pages, a pout in his lips and he scanned all the pictures, assessing what he was seeing.

“It’s not polite to hold a knife at your guest,” he said matter of factly.

“Who the fuck are you?” your grip on the handle tightened as if such a thing was even possible to begin with.

He turned the photo album to you, showing you a picture of yourself alone, smiling after throwing the bouquet at your wedding. It was a spontaneous picture, a true smile. That woman in the picture was an entirely different person. Looking at her it was hard to believe that you had been her at some point in time.

“You looked happier here” he pointed out, turning the album back to himself, still pouting “I don’t think she’d hold a knife at a guest”

“Who are you?” you demanded again, your voice louder, desperate.

The man rolled his eyes at you, finally closing the book and throwing it on your bed.

“Think about it, we both know you’re smart” he lightly raised his eyebrows at you “A little over a week ago you had a weird… dream? That’s what you made yourself think, wasn’t it?”

For a moment it was hard to pull air inside your lungs.

You thought that you had gone crazy. You clearly remembered getting out of the apartment, of going downtown in an Uber, of the waiting room, of talking to Jeonghan. But you didn’t remember walking out of the building or how you got home. You just… somehow found yourself back in your bed, in your pajamas in the middle of the night. The clock marked 3:33 AM.

“That was Jeonghan’s fault so I won’t hold it over your head too much. He likes to play tricks like that”

He sat on your bed, arms stretched back, thighs parted. A cocky smile on his lips and you could swear that your legs melted a little when you noticed that he had nothing under the suit jacket.

“Who are you?” you asked again, this time your voice wasn’t as loud or as demanding.

The man raised his eyebrows again and you could swear that it did something to you, tickling a place you didn’t know it needed to be tickled. He moved his chin lightly as if pointing to the knife. You sighed and put the knife down, holding it closer to your body. But that wasn't enough for the man, he pointed at the dresser. You rolled your eyes but did as asked. You didn't dare to get closer to him though. You simply crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against it. 

"I'm Seungcheol," the man said, only when he was sure that there was no chance of you stabbing him "Choi Seungcheol"

"I didn't know demons had last names"

His pout was still in place, as he seemed to be thinking of what to say next.

"We're civil enough, though me coming in without your permission might not be the best proof of character" he was quick to add when you opened your mouth to object. 

It didn't matter how much you tried, nothing came to mind when you thought about your conversation with Jeonghan. All of it was a big blank. You remembered getting there, him scaring you, the realization of who he was but nothing after that.

“The word you’re looking for is demon king,” he said. 

His eyes seemed to assess you, each and every movement you made. Seungcheol’s eyes never left you, not even for a second. When you moved to the chair on the opposite side of the room he followed you, adjusting his own body he would be seated directly in front of you. 

If your memory served you right, which at that point you had no idea, Jeonghan seemed to know what you were thinking. You were inclined to think that he couldn’t actually read your thoughts because according to Seungcheol, again if you could take his words for anything, demons too were civil and would just be way too invasive, but he was awfully good at knowing exactly what you were thinking. But then again, Jeonghan seemed to know way too much in the first meeting. Were the files he was looking at something like your life’s history? Where you were born, about your parents, your first boyfriend, your college crush, your husband, and everything that happened after?

You did your best not to focus too much on the demon king thing. If you did, your mind would take you somewhere else entirely and you weren’t sure if you could go there at that moment. Actually, you were sure you shouldn’t, especially because if you did the man in front of you, or a demon, would probably laugh. And being laughed at wasn’t something you were ready for at the moment.

“Okay,” you said slowly, exhaling all the air in your lungs all at once “Jeonghan is the demon king”

Seungcheol nodded, a small smile on his lips as he was proud of a child who had just given a correct answer. 

“That makes you…?”

“An incubus”

You closed your eyes for a second, folding your legs in front of you. Incubus… the demon who would sleep with women in their sleep and get them pregnant, and these women birthed demon-like children. 

Fantastic.

“So, magic dick,” you said, half not believing what you were saying, on how easily it seemed for you to understand it all “Great” 

That seemed to pull out an honest laugh out of Seungcheol, to the point a dimple made its way into his cheek. You couldn't help but smile along with him. 

“Something along those lines, yes”

He stood up, his eyes no longer filled with laughter and amusement. They had turned darker, hungry even. At that very second you felt like a prey under his eyes. You bit your bottom lip and he got closer to you, his eyes focused on your lips as he moved deliberately slowly to get to you. It seemed that your room was much, much, bigger than it actually was, almost like there was an entire runaway between him and you. 

You stood up as well, though that was probably a bad idea, considering how wobbly your legs felt. 

Seungcheol smiled, not in the cute and almost condescending way of before, but in a way that was much darker and held so many promises at the same time. He took your hand, pulled you towards the center of the room, walking backward.

“So, this is it? No flirting, no nice words, no dinner. Just straight-up sex” 

You hoped that your tone was light, teasing. Though there was nothing light about the way you were feeling. The few inches of your skin that were under his touch felt like were on fire. 

It had been a long time since you were with anyone, your husband was the last one a year and a half before. That wasn't to say that you hadn't found any sort of pleasure, but it had always been by yourself.

You couldn't help but wonder if part of the heat on your skin came from the lack of contact or if it was because of him. Something told you that it was a mix of both. 

“Well, you had dinner before I even got here and I thought you holding a knife was flirting”

Seungcheol circled you. The hand that held Yours suddenly pressed on your stomach, holding you against his firm chest. He pressed his nose to the crook of your neck. Giving him more access to your skin felt almost natural.

You felt his lips on the back of your neck. It started as a chaste kiss, followed by the burn of his teeth sinking into your skin and then soothed by his tongue flat over the space he had just bitten. 

“Are you a vampire?” you hoped your voice sounded steady but even to your ears it was breathy, close to a moan. The thing… the man… had barely touched you and you were ready to just melt under him. 

Seungcheol’s chest vibrated against your back and he leaned into your neck once again, now biting the other side. 

“Never met one of those, but if you want, I can become one for the night”

It suddenly crossed your mind “would he do anything I ask?” but you didn’t have it in you to ask. More than that, you didn’t know what to ask. You wanted too much but at the same time, you weren't sure where to begin. 

Slowly, Seungcheol ran his hand down your body. You felt your core tighten at the proximity, wetness slowly damping your panties. You were in a haze, one you didn’t want to come out of. 

“Tell me what you want. Whatever you want, however, you want it. It’s all yours”

It was like he had somehow heard your thoughts. Was that also part of his abilities? Magic dick and mind reading? Seemed like good powers to have. 

He nuzzled your neck again, this time placing kisses all over your skin as he slid down the strap of your shirt and continued his discovery of your skin. But your shoulder was not the place you wanted to feel him the most, it was not the spot that was craving for attention. 

Seungcheol ran his nose over your shoulder, the curve of your neck, up to your ear. 

“Ah, not so sweet and innocent after all” the hot breath over your skin made your entire body flame up. 

Finally, he lowered his hand, going under the elastic band of your shorts. He roughly rubbed his palm over your covered clit as his other hand went up to your breast, tugging at the hard nipple.

“You’re this wet and we barely even started?” he nibbled on your ear “You were all brave with that knife but all you can think about now is my magic dick filling you over and over and over again. Right, sweetheart?”

He pushed your panties to the side, his finger finally rubbing over your sensitive clit. A whimper left your lips as he was exactly where you needed, but it was far from enough. 

“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you”

He circulated your slit with two fingers. Once, twice, three times. 

“Please” you whispered. 

You felt his smile at the same time he pushed his fingers into you, your arousal more than enough to suck him in. You sucked in a moan as he picked up speed with his fingers, then another when his palm pressed over your clit adding another layer of pleasure. 

“Make that pretty noise for me again, sweetheart,” he asked, his voice low, though commanding “Let me hear you”

You tried your best to stay quiet, to not make any sound, and let the only sound in the room be the almost obnoxious noise of his fingers slipping in and out of you. But when Seungcheol found that one spot, that tiny piece of skin that made your mind almost go blank it was impossible to be silent. 

The sound coming out of you was pathetic, each new moan getting louder as you felt your abdomen cramp. The louder you got, the faster he moved his fingers. He didn’t stop pumping his fingers, didn’t stop pressing his palm on your clit, until the tide finally broke loose. 

You tried to shut your legs, suddenly the stimulation was too much at once, but Seungcheol was willing to let that happen. He kicked your feet apart, using his own knees to keep yours proudly open. 

Your orgasm hit you harder than ever before, your body convulsing in his grip, shaking as each new wave of pleasure hit you, somehow stronger than before. Seungcheol held you together until your body calmed down. A moan that could have been easily mistaken for a sob, came out of your lips, a light tremor in your legs, though you were certain that it was no longer visible. 

Seungcheol slowly guided your body towards the bed, both of his hands on your hips, steadying you. He sat you down on the bed and took a couple of steps back. He didn’t say anything as he opened the button on his suit and pulled it off his shoulder, tossing it aside on the chair to his left. 

He was teasing you, that much was obvious. Under normal circumstances you’d have looked away but as he unbuttoned his pants you couldn’t force yourself to look away. Your mind was in a trance by him, he had your undivided attention and he loved it. 

His movements were deliberately slow, a cocky grin making its way to his face as he noticed your eyes following the movements of his hands. 

The only piece of clothing covering Seungcheol was his underwear, though it did very little to disguise his erection. Your mouth watered at the sight, a nagging feeling on the back of your mind telling you to get down on your knees in front of him and take all of him into your mouth - or at least as much as it could fit anyway. 

Seungcheol laughed as he finally pushed the last piece of cotton off. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the sight of him on full display. Every inch of his devilish body, in full glory, was mesmerizing. You felt you pussy clench around nothing as Seungcheol started to pump his dick. 

“We’ll have enough time to play later tonight,” he moved closer to you, standing in between your legs, his cock was close to you face that you simply inch forward and have him like you wanted, he had different ideas though “but right now I want to know what it feels like to be buried deep inside that sweet, sweet, pussy”

You reached down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. It was only when you reached for the elastic band of your shorts that you felt the embarrassment creeping up every inch of your body. 

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t hide yourself from me”

He lightly pushed you onto the bed, his knee pressing against your center and he scooped you up on the bed. He grabbed you by the hips and flipped you so that your face was pressed into the mattress. 

He pushed your shorts down, though not boring to take them off all the way down. Seungcheol straddled your legs and he teased your pussy with the tip of his cock. Running it over the slick entrance but never fully pushing it inside. 

You tried to change the position in a way to force him to just sink in but he was having none of that. He gripped your head by your hair, pulling it back until your ass up in the air, your back arched in a way that should be painful but somehow all it did was heighten your pleasure. 

“Beg” he whispered against your ear, his voice deliciously low.

“What?” you breathed out as he continued to tease you, your body moving along with his, a new whimper escaping every time he almost pushed inside. 

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you” he laughed “You wanna be fucked? I’ll fuck in ways you can’t even imagine. But you’re going to have to beg”

In any other situation, in any other moment of your life, you’d have felt embarrassed by his demand, to some extent would even have felt angry towards it. But right in that second, with the promise of what was to come, saying a few words sounded like a fair price to pray. 

“Please, please, Seungcheol” you begged, voice dripping with need and honey as you moved your hips wanting nothing more than to just be filled “just fuck me, fill me up. All of me is yours…” for the night.

He didn’t let you finish, pushing his cock into your throbbing pussy. There was no time to adjust. Seungcheol drove his dick into you again and again, each thrust harder than the previous one. He pulled your arms back, holding them against his chest with his own. 

Each sound that left your mouth was increasingly louder but you didn’t care in the slightest. Seungcheol’s grunts behind you, the slapping of his skin against yours every time he drove into you was intoxicating.

“Oh my god” you chanted over and over again

“No, no, not god” he laughed, biting the soft skin of your shoulder “He can't help you now”

He snaked a hand around your waist directly to your clit, massaging it in slow circles, in high contrast to his dick. The pressure was just perfect, his pace never faulting. 

An orgasm hit you yet again, without notice, this time not as hard as the first one, but still enough to have you shaking to the core. Seungcheol held you even tighter, his pace relentless as he searched for his own high. 

You felt his warm cum splurged into you, too much of it. 

Your body felt limp on the bed, all energy drained out of you, not a single drop left. You turned, looking at the ceiling, trying to steady your breathing, waiting for the tremors to pass when you felt Seungcheol his hand over your thigh. 

He pushed your shorts and panties all the way down, tossing them on the floor with a mute sound. He spread your legs and smiled proudly, seemingly happy with his work. It only lasted a second though, as a frown took over his features. 

“You’re wasting it, sweetheart” he tsked “We can’t have that, now can we?”

You felt his hand on your sensitive cunt and tried to flinch away but he didn't bulge. His finger grazed over your clit before he pushed them into you. You held his wrist, trying to push his hand away. 

“No, it’s too much” you shook your head, pleading “Please, I can’t, please”

He laughed at your words, pinning the hand that held his wrist over your head. Seungcheol kissed your breast, taking the nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, and blowing on it a second later, all while he pumped his fingers in your pussy, pushing back inside all the cum that had dripped out. 

“You can” you bit your lower lip and tugged at it “and, most importantly, we both know you want it”

You could only shake your head as the pleasure became too much, almost unbearable. Almost. You felt yet another orgasm build up again, like your entire body was throbbing, closing itself tightly before it finally broke free.

Seungcheol swallowed your scream, kissing your lips, neck, and shoulders as your body spasmed. Your quiet whimpers were the only sound in the room. He only pulled his fingers out of you when you calmed down completely.

“That’s it” he kissed your cheek, letting go of your hands and using them to hold his head so he could look down at you “See, I told you you could it”

Out of the possible outcomes of the previous night waking up to a mop of red hair on the other side of the bed wasn’t one of them. You were certain that when you woke up you’d realize that the night had been a dream — the most real one you had ever had in your life but that was beside the point. 

Just for good measure, you pressed your index finger to the shoulder of the man. Warm and soft skin was under your finger.

Okay, not a dream then.

You turned on your back, facing the ceiling of your bedroom. The night played vividly in your mind. The way Seungcheol pressed the first kiss to the back of your neck and how that alone was enough to make you go crazy under his touch. Not only that, how you were so willing to completely let yourself go to him, how every time he whispered in your ear, chills ran down your entire body and you could feel him everywhere.

You couldn’t help but wonder if all of your emotions had been heightened because he was…. him. A demon. Or if you were just so touch-starved that the smallest caress was enough to drive you over the edge.

Most of all, you couldn’t look past all how you had been so incredibly reckless. A random man who looked like he had gotten out of some comic book suddenly showed up in your room — mind you without using the door — and you somehow, for whatever reason, thought that it was a good idea to have sex with him. And then, as if all of that wasn’t enough, you still fell asleep by his side like it was the most normal thing in the world like he was someone you could trust entirely.

You covered your eyes with your arm, a groan leaving your lips.

There was still the whole “deal with the demon king” part that you were yet to think about.

It seemed unfair that you couldn’t remember what you agreed on. You should have the chance to prepare for whatever was to come, didn’t you? The demon king, or Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how you should address him, was well… unfair.

“Are you usually this loud so early in the morning?”

Your entire body jumped on the bed and a scream died in your throat. For a couple of minutes, you had been so lost in your mind that you forgot that Seungcheol was by your side at all.

His voice in the early morning, just after waking up, was almost made out of honey, velvety, tingling in your ears. By your side, Seungcheol had turned to you, his eyes barely open, his full lips pulled almost in a pout, a few strands of hair covering his face. You had to grip the sheets closer to your body just so you could suppress the desire to move them aside.

Your eyes moved slightly down, to his half-exposed chest. Another flash of the night before crossed your mind, of him over you, the way the chain around his neck hung just over your nose, how you used it to pull him to you again.

“You look cute when you blush,” he said with a lazy smile on his lips. You felt your cheeks warm but didn’t think it was enough to cause any visible change. 

Seungcheol folded his arm, holding his head up. The sleepy smile he gave you was the most delicious thing you had ever seen, it was enough to take your breath away all over again. You were happy that you were still in bed, otherwise there was a chance that your legs might have given in under you.

“I didn’t think you’d stay” was all you said as you swung your feet out of the bed, looking for the pajamas that were lost somewhere on the floor.

It was on the other side of the room, how it had ended up there was beyond you. You gripped the sheet closer around your body but you were only able to move one step away from the bed before you felt it being pulled back.

“You know, I already saw everything there’s under those sheets” you didn’t turn to him but you could hear the smile in his voice “In fact, I did a lot more than just look at it”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You were certain that if you forced the sheets out of his grip, Seungcheol would have let go of it but if he did such a thing then he would be the one exposed, and while you were sure that he had no problem with the idea, everything you screamed that if you saw him naked again there was no way that you would just have a redo of the night before.

Letting go of the sheets, you walked to the other side of the room, opening the dresser drawer and pulling out a clean pair of panties and bra.

“I’m going to shower and by the time I finish it I want you gone”

Seungcheol’s laughter still echoed through the apartment when you closed the bathroom door.

You had managed to keep yourself busy enough during the weekend that you had almost forgotten about Friday night. The keyword being almost. Usually, you would have come up with an excuse to not help your sister during the weekend. She was a wedding planner, a very good one at that — she had been the one to plan your wedding — and highly sought out so it was easier to find her working than being at home.

The reason why you always declined was that weddings, while they could be wildly different from one another, there were things that were the same, didn’t who was at the isle. Two people were promising each other eternal love.

When you saw those people, standing in front of each other, eyes filled with love and hope, you couldn’t help but think about Joshua. How you had once been in that exact spot, saying similar words, how you had been happy with him for so many years until all of it came crashing down on you. The only thing that love left behind were scars that were still all too fresh but hidden enough that no one would ever see them.

Still, working during the weekend with your sister was better than staying at home and thinking about all the stupid decisions you made and how much you’d love to make at least one of them once again. She was also kind enough to let you work on the setup and then later back in the kitchen. Maybe she had some sort of sixth sense that said that you need to get out of your mind. Her call was at the right moment.

Even so, there were moments when you were on your own, in the darkness of your bedroom, when Seungcheol’s perfume somehow still lingered in the air. There was no escape then. It was like a replay of that night played in your head again and again, and everytime it it did there was a new detail that you had somehow forgotten.

It was both a blessing and a curse.

You ran your hand over your face and hair, urging your mind to just stop and let yourself fall asleep. You had a meeting early in the morning and you needed your sleep, just so you could function like a semi-normal human being.

You were in the kitchen when you heard a sound in your bedroom. Your heart skipped a beat, hoping that maybe… just maybe… You shook your head in an attempt to come back to reality. The chance of seeing Seungcheol once again was below zero. You heard the sound again and this time your heart wasn’t the only thing doing a weird flip inside your chest, you also felt chills run down your skin.

The third time the sound came you felt as if you were under a cold shower when it was followed by the sound of laughter in the hallway that belonged to your neighbor. 

It was hard swallowing the expectation that had somehow found its way into you. You weren’t even sure why you were expecting something in the first place. After that night it was clear that there wasn’t going to be a second one. Not that there was any conversation on the matter, it just seemed like the most natural option. 

If things had gone according to plan, and if your mind was worthy of any trust, apparently it did, there was no real reason why you should ever see Seungcheol again. And yet, there you were wishing that he’d just show up again, and for what? 

You set the glass of water down, wishing you could have something strong – God knew that if you wanted to sleep you’d need some help – but not wanting to risk anything. Shutting down the lights in the kitchen and living room.

Before you even opened the door to your room you felt this shift in the air. You pushed it open, hard enough that it smashed against the wall. 

“You must really love your kitchen, the second time I show up here and the second time you're in the kitchen”

You closed your eyes for a second, basking in the sound of his voice, how it made chills erupt in your skin. 

“Second time you don’t use the door”

“I’ll be sure to remember that”

Seungcheol smiled, hands in his pocket. 

“You better”

Before you gave yourself a chance to think about it, you crossed the room in two strides and pulled him to you. Seungcheol smiled against your lips before he finally kissed you. 

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

you can read my other fics here ➝ masterlist

[ihavethedreamies]

Love Release | Felix [NSFW]

Felix Lee/Lee Yongbok - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.9k

Pairing: Noble! Felix x Handmaiden! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Pet Names (My love/love), Grinding/Humping (I don't know the right term...), First Times (Both), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…)

Summary: You had been training ever since you were a little girl to grow up and serve the crown prince and later the king. Because of that, you grew up with the prince as well. Though, the one that always had caught your eye, was the prince's best friend.

Author's Note: This one is very soft and fluffy compared to the other ones in this series. I got most of my "information"/inspiration from the drama The Red Sleeve with Lee Junho, so if it's not exactly right it's because I based this more off of a K-Drama than research.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use. Just an FYI, there are a lot more in this one than some of my others, so I would recommend looking over the list first, or this post.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Bang Chan's <-

-> Lee Know's <-

-> Changbin's <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Your family isn’t poor by any means, but they aren’t nobility either. Your father and mother own a very successful tea shop frequented by the young adult children of the nobles and therefore afford your family a rather comfortable life. However, you know little of it. You are the youngest of five girls, and your eldest sister is an esteemed member of the royal court ladies. Your parents received payments from the palace in compensation for your sister going to serve there, the funds allowing them to open the shop that has made them so well off. Despite her entering to work as a seamstress, she rose in the ranks past her initial status due to an unofficial friendship with the princess.

One year, the year you turned five, the palace was struggling to find new girls to train for the royal court due to a sickness that had swept through Hanyang and the surrounding areas. The sickness was much harder for young girls to fight off than boys, and unfortunately many girls died. You were spared from the illness, though your sister but two years older than you sadly passed. Due to the struggling search, your sister returned home as a still training nain, serving under a sanggung that served the queen. Out of the three of us younger sisters, only you were of the proper age to be entered into the palace to train. So, you were quickly sent off to live in the palace, to train for years in order to serve the crown prince who was around the same age as you. Of course, your parents received more payment in return. This tended to be done since they would never receive a dowry for their daughters, palace maidens are forbidden to marry.

You and the girls in your friend group stood out from the rest, the red fabric at the ends of your sleeves clearly designating you all as future gungnyeo to the crown prince, and eventually the king. Before you were separated into your future departments however, all the girls were treated equal, whether they were there to be royal servants, embroiders or seamstresses, cleaners or cooks, healers or musicians. When you were assigned the department for the inner royal court, you became a trainee jimil nain and suddenly you were of a higher status. Still at a measly 10th grade ranking, you were higher than your friends who were assigned to begin their true duties in sewing and cleaning. You started off as an assistant to a sangjeong, a nasty woman who doled out punishments left and right and you tried your hardest to stay on her good side, only getting a few whacks on the hand. While you were eventually given more or less a promotion, it was a very boring job in a way because you had a very specific duty. As part of your job, you would more or less escort the girls who worked in the naesojubang, leading them and the food they prepared to the crown prince’s quarters. The scent of the much fancier and rich food often made your mouth water, but you could never partake. However, there was a saving grace…maybe two. The prince is gorgeous. Even as a young teenager, everyone could see how handsome he would grow to be. Though, you could only see him through sneaking glances, you dare not look at his face when anyone could see. You aren’t supposed to. The one you could however look at was the second saving grace. Prince Chan had a just as attractive best friend, a younger boy by the name of Yongbok. Yongbok was the son of one of the ministers and was essentially assigned to be one of Chan’s friends as a little boy, but their friendship stuck through. He you could look at, and look you did. There was constant talks and arguments over whether Prince Chan or Lord Yongbok was more attractive. The girls who spoke and admired the beauty and sweetness of Lord Yongbok counted you amongst them. Many girls though preferred the casual strength and confident demeanor of the prince, and this led to many a debate over meals and duties. Nearly every day when you brought the girls to serve Prince Chan his midday meal, you would cast glances at Yongbok who sat to the left of the prince. You would sit by the door, waiting for the prince and his friend to finish eating so you could have the girls come and get rid of the dishes and you would escort them out before they went on their own way. That was…about all you ever did for the better part of two years.

When you were given more duties, you were assigned to be a messenger. Your previous station was one of the least physically strenuous jobs, and then you were given one of the most. The first month or so of your duties, your legs constantly burned, and your feet hurt. Not only did you have to scurry about the palace, from the prince’s quarters, to the throne hall, and then back, and then to the queen’s quarters and then back, it was exhausting. Every time you left the crown prince’s palace with a message from said prince, you hated having to go all the way to his grandmother’s quarts with a small message. It was easiest if you had to go deliver a message to the throne hall since it was the closest. You dreaded however having to go to his mother’s, the hall that housed his parents is not only beautiful, but extremely revered. You feared even bumping into something and knocking it over. Plus, his mother was…intimidating. Somehow even more so than the king. While she wasn’t mean or cruel, she seemed very tense. There was however a nasty woman who despised the queen. That particular concubine and the queen would glare at each other near constantly, and if for some reason they were even in the same room, you worried entering lest you be struck by the lightning between their gazes. Sometimes though, you were grateful for your job, because there were times you had to deliver messages from Prince Chan to his best friend. Lord Yongbok often lingered around the palace when the prince was studying since, even though he was also educated well, he didn’t need it to the same level. You even would sometimes pray for the prince to wish to summon his friend, because then you could directly interact with the nobleman. Every week he grew more gorgeous, and his suddenly deep voice drew many of Prince Chan’s admirers over into his camp.

One time, Yongbok was meandering through the palace grounds, standing on a bridge, looking down into the water at the brightly colored fish swimming below. It was almost like the scene that would be copied down to parchment as a work of art. His gorgeous features combined with the serene scene was worthy of that of royalty despite his lower status. You clutched the letter to you so tight, seeing him bringing you such joy that you worried the paper within the fabric envelope would crinkle. No matter, it wasn’t important, just details for a future excursion the prince had planned.

“Lord Yongbok…” You bow at the waist when you finally gain the nerve to approach. You stand back up straight, breath nearly stolen by his warm smile.

“Ah, Miss (Y/N). What has our lord prince sent this time, hm~?” His voice nearly rumbles through you like thunder, and you have to fight back a shiver. You bow and hand him the envelope with both hands and he takes it from you, opening the blue fabric to read over the parchment. He hums and folds the paper up and stows it inside his blue danryeong. While he looked good in everything, you found the uniform outfit many of his status wore to ill-suit him, and much preferred his casual clothing he more often wore.

“Tell me, when is your next day off?”

“In a fortnight, milord.”

“Hm… I assume you plan to see your family?”

“No, actually. I do not have a plan for that day, my family plans to be on holiday in Ming.”

“I see… Would you be opposed if I accompanied you out?”

You feel your face heat to a bright red, heart racing out of control. You look at him with wide eyes, stammering to answer, still trying to process that he asked you such a thing.

“Y-you would…want to?”

“I would~” He smiles, making your heart race even more-so.

“T-then, yes, I would like that~”

~θωθ~

Your day off came, and you were trembling with nervous excitement as you dressed in your only non-uniform hanbok. Standing at the gate leading out of the palace grounds, you clutch your pass that allows you to leave. You wonder if after your final ceremony if you’d ever get to leave, so you wanted to take the chance to get out as much as possible while still in training.

“Miss (Y/N).” You hear a very distinct voice call your name and you perk up, not able to fight back a smile when you see Yongbok just on the other side of the open gate. You step up to the guards standing on each side and he looks over your engraved pass to make sure it’s legit and then he hands it back and lets you out. You tuck it away in an interior pocket of your jeogori, for if you lost it, you would not be able to get back in.

“Do have something planned, milord?” You ask, not able to look directly at him. He’s too close and too beautiful.

“Yes, there’s somewhere I want to take you, if you’re willing.” He smiles, so purely, and your heart melts further. It’s refreshing to see him in normal clothing rather than his danryeong, his gat suits him much more than his samo, the dark brown beads of the strap for the hat make his eyes pop.

“O-Of course, milord.”

“We’re not in the palace anymore, (Y/N), just call me Yongbok~”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course~” He huffs a small laugh then starts to walk toward the direction opposite the market and you jog to catch up to him. You had figured you two would walk the market and look at the goods and trinkets sold there, but he wasn’t going that way. He leads you to the edge of the walled district and you halt at the gate before you can follow him out.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is it alright…for me to leave the seong-jung?”

“Why wouldn’t it be. You have a pass to leave the palace grounds, that’s all you need.”

“A-alright.”

You only ever go to the seongjeosimni to see your family, and you typically are escorted straight there, but now, you actually have the chance to be…free. Free to do whatever you wish and wherever you go. You hold your breath as you step over the threshold, almost like you were going through a portal to another realm. Of course, there is no change to how you feel, but it feels different somehow. You continue to walk with him, staying a step behind as is proper. Soon, you arrive at the bank of the stream, no one else around but you two, and you gain the courage to stand right next to him. You both overlook the water in silence for a short time, just admiring the scenery.

“How did you come to be a trainee of the gungnyeo?” He asks suddenly and his soft but deep voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“Well, my sister is a jimil nain and she recommended me when there was the low rate of girls coming in from the sweeping illness ten years ago.”

“I see…”

“Why did you wish to know?”

“Is your father of the jungin then?”

“Yes…” Why was he asking?

“I wondered if you were not…”

“You wondered if I was sold to the palace?”

“Yes.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Good.”

“May I ask why you wish to know?”

“I was curious of your family, that’s all.” He left it at that. When you looked back out to the water, you felt your face heat, wondering why he wished to know. After that, he brought you to a quaint little tea shop and you listened as he told you various tales of his shenanigans with the crown prince when they were younger. As the sun started to set, he escorted you back to the gates of the palace grounds and you show the guard your pass before heading in. You hesitate in the threshold of the gate and look back at Yongbok. He smiles warmly and you decide that it’s one of the best days of your so far mundane life.

~υ3υ~

When you turned 18, talks of that year’s coming of age ceremony were once again milling about. That year though, you actually cared to be interested, since you would be participating. But times were not so great, the King was in poor health, and many worried his days were numbered. If that was the case, the 21-year-old crown prince would become king and therefore the gungnyeo under him would also become of a higher status. In the year prior you had become one of the palace ladies who helped prepare and manage the prince’s duties or roles in many formal events. As a handmaiden to the prince, you were granted many opportunities to be close to Lord Yongbok, but you unfortunately were never in a position where you could interact with him at said events. Being more busy yourself, he was often embroiled in his studies and was taking all manner of exams, trying to establish his place among the nobility. You overhead Prince Chan and him half-heartedly joking of them being old and grey, with Yongbok serving as the right or left state minister. That would take a long time of service for Yongbok to reach the status to be worthy of that position.

When the fateful day came that the king passed, you were suddenly thrust into a whirlwind of events you had to prepare for and work during. Not only were there the funerary and memorial services for the king, there was also the coronation events for the now King as well as his wedding to the now Queen. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to be the crown princess as the two were only engaged to marry when the previous king died. Chan was given a new name when he was coronated, but he still preferred to be called by his birthname by Lord Yongbok when it was just them. With the ascension of Chan to the highest station of Joseon, you expected to be officially graduated as a jimil nain. But that didn’t come. When the trainee nain were informed of their new positions, you were curiously left out. It was jarring for not just you, but your friends as well. You thought you had done a very good job up until then, your higher duties of greater import than the others your age due to your excelling performance. Rumors began swirling of what it could mean, and many assumed that you had become more intimate with the now King in a personal manner. While it wasn’t horribly common, it wasn’t unheard of for a king to choose a court maiden to be favored, and to even take her as a concubine. But you knew that wasn’t the case. The more believable rumor was…that you would be released. You didn’t even think that possible unless a grave crime was committed, or if a girl fell ill…

~

You were pondering this one afternoon, sitting near a pond inside the palace grounds, tossing random stones into the water. You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, feeling upset and angry. Was there some reason that the now King did not wish you to be in his service anymore? You thought he had a rather favorable opinion of you…

“You seem distraught.” A deep voice startles you out of your thoughts and you look up in surprise to see Lord Yongbok. It had been a great while since you two had a moment of even partial privacy, let alone just the two of you.

“I apologize…” You stand to bow, and he waves you off to calm down.

“There’s no one around, don’t worry about it… What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t wish to trouble you-“

“Trouble me, please.” He smiles softly and you blush, but hum in thought.

“I am the only one among the other girls of my department to not be informed of her new station…”

“Really?”

“Yes… Despite my service under the crown prince, it seems I will not continue into the service of the King…” you look up at him, wanting to ask a question, but are unsure if it was proper.

“You wish to ask me if I know why?” You smile bashfully, nodding in answer.

“Have you ever known a gungnyeo that ended up released of her service?”

Your heart fell at his question. Was it true? Was a rumor about you that not even you knew the truth of really…true? He could see your face fall and he tries to smile, reassuringly, taking a step closer.

“Please don’t worry. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Do you know why…am I truly being released?”

“You are. And…I do know why. I hope…you will not be upset with me.”

“With you? Why would I be?”

“It seems your release is because of me.” He hums, looking over the water and your eyes flit all over his face, trying to read it.

“Have I…upset you in some way?”

“Oh, no, not…” He sighs, “I wished this to be good news for you…”

“What? What’s happening?”

“I made a request of the King…Something I have never done in all our years of friendship. And he granted me this request.”

Your heart begins to race as he smiles warmly at you, a small blush dusting his cheeks as well.

“You…?”

“I requested that you be released… Because if you weren’t, I would not be able to court you to be my wife.”

“Y-your…wife?”

“Yes.”

“I-I…I thought if a gungnyeo was released…she still could not marry?”

“That’s just for droughts, and other calamities. This is an extremely special circumstance. One that might not be possible if you officially graduate to a true nain. As a trainee however, the rules are more lenient.”

“You did something so…so bold for…me?” You feel tears pricking your eyes, both truly honored and beyond ecstatic. Despite the lessening opportunities you had to be around Lord Yongbok, you had fallen for him. And it seemed, he you.

“I already met with your father, actually.”

“You…did?”

“Yes. Paid the dowry and everything…” He holds his hand out to you, and you shakily place your hand in his, a tear escaping your eye.

“I assumed you’d say yes…”

“Of course I’d say yes~”

~(◕‿◕✿)~

The next month is an absolute whirlwind for you, each upcoming moment causing more nervous excitement than the last. After Chan is crowned King, and the rest of the girls that were training have gone through their coming-of-age ceremonies, you’re formally released from service. Right after, you’re moved into a new house on the estate grounds of Yongbok’s family, staying there for a few days alone until the wedding. What makes you the most nervous of all is waiting in the middle of your new bedchamber in nothing but your white marital sokchima, pacing. Yongbok is getting cleaned up after you had and you can’t stand or sit still, face a seemingly permanent red. You startle when the door opens and your heart stops, then races into a tizzy when you see him. His hair’s down, even going a bit past his shoulders, long and so purely black it’s like flowing ink.

“O-Oh…” You sigh in amazement; you’ve married a heavenly being, you’re sure. He smiles and your floored even further, how is he so perfect?

“My wife~” He comes to you, cupping your jaw in both his hands, thumbs gently rubbing over your cheeks. Your own hands go to his wrists, holding his hands to your face, your eyes skating all over his beautiful features.

“Y-Yes?” He chuckles and you blush further, swallowing hard.

“Tell me if I need to slow down…” He says as he leans in, lips hovering over yours. When you don’t say anything, just gape at him, he gently kisses you. You have kissed before, but only briefly, and he steals your breath as he deepens the kiss. His deep rumbling groan shudders through you like thunder and you can’t help but moan into the kiss, trying your best to kiss him back well. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you whimper again, tongue sliding against his. It was an odd sensation but by no means unwelcome, and he somehow even tastes good. Pulling back, a small strand of saliva connects your lips still and he hums with a soft smirk.

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?” He smiles as he asks.

“Probably not as long as me…” You admit, still holding his wrists to make sure his hands don’t leave your face. You whine softly in disappointment when he moves his hands, and he huffs a small laugh. You let go of his wrists and then you nearly squeak when he lifts you easily up into his arms, carrying you over to the raised yo bed. Gently, like you’re fragile, he lays you down and leans over you. His fingers fiddle with the tie of your sokchima, looking up at you in silent question. You nod, and he slowly pulls on the goreum to undo it. You sit up so he can help you get it fully off and you blush furiously as you lay back down under him, completely bare. You hear him swallow hard, a low hum coming from him and you boldly reach up for the tie of his marital jeogori. He helps you then get his garment off and your mouth literally waters when you see him. Your shy fingers gently reach to run over the defined ridges of his torso, and they quickly get brave. You sit up, in awe as you feel his bare skin, the muscles of his stomach twitching under your soft fingers. He huffs another laugh, letting you explore him for a few seconds. He watches you carefully for your reaction, your fingers creeping lower and lower till the reach the ties of his sokbaji. Your eyes widen a bit when you find he’s already getting hard and you immediately flush.

“Nervous?” Yongbok asks softly. You nod, not able to lie.

“It’s okay, my love.” He leans down and kisses your upper cheek, “just lay back and I’ll start.” You do so and you swallow hard, waiting to watch him take his pants off but he doesn’t. His hands meet your bare skin, and you can’t help but gasp a soft moan as his hands land on your waist, thumbs rubbing the soft skin of your stomach. As soon as your eyes meet, he’s leaning down to kiss you, rougher this time. His tongue sneaks into your mouth and you whine a bit as his hands sneak lower till they’re gripping your hips. Slowly, his hands go lower, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake till they end their journey at your thighs. Your fingers weave into his soft hair as he guides your legs up to wrap around his waist. You’re nervous at first to do anything more than loop them loosely around his middle, but when his hands sneak back up to palm your breasts, your legs tighten, hips twitching. He pulls back from the kiss with a low groan, grinding back against you, hardening fully.

“(Y/N)…careful, love.”

“Sorry…” You whisper, not very sorry actually. Even just the slight friction - even with the fabric of his pants between- of his cock against your cunt feels amazing.

“Sure you are~” He grins, nuzzling his nose against your ear, his voice lowering to a rough timbre, “You’re already so wet.” You blush at his words despite knowing how true they are.

“Why don’t we try something?”

“What?” He answers your question by rolling his hips, his cock pressing into your folds. You gasp softly at this, and he lets your legs down and before you can protest, he undoes the tie of his sokbaji and gets them off, leaving him just as naked as you. You swallow hard, eyes focusing on his cock…

“W-won’t it hurt?”

“That’s why I’m going to get you ready okay?”

“Okay…”

“Just trust me, I won’t go in till you’re ready.”

“Okay…I trust you, Yongbok~” He kisses the tip of your nose making you giggle. He guides your legs back around him and you both moan softly when his dick slides through your slick folds, no longer impeded by the fabric of his bottoms.

“Oh, you’re so warm~” He huffs a small laugh, and you gasp again when he moves his hips, the length of his cock running through your cunt, slicking over your clit.

“Feel good, love~?

“Yes…” You whimper; a bit shocked at just how good it feels.

“Have you even ever touched yourself here?”

“N-no.” Your hips twitch up, goosebumps raising with each thrust of his hips. He moves faster, soft but low grunts leaving his pretty lips as he admires the sheen coating his cock from your wet folds. The more he moves, the better it feels, your little clit feeling like it’s on fire.

“Y-Yongbok, s-something-“

“Just let it happen, love.” He kisses your forehead as he keeps moving, able to feel your core clenching around nothing as he strokes his dick through your pussy. You gasp again, then lose your breath, back arching when he presses harder, moving faster. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, crashing over you again and again, the overwhelming pleasure making your head swim. When you come down, you look up at him. He’s biting his lip as he’s adjusting to press the head of his cock against your entrance. At the right spot, he reaches up and weaves his fingers through yours, holding your hands up by your head, his lips hovering over yours.

“Just grip my hands tight if it hurts, love.” His lips seal over yours as he starts to press in. The stretch burns, like nothing you’ve ever felt before, but it’s also different than pain. It somehow hurts and feels amazing at the same time, and you swear you can’t catch your breath fully the deeper he gets. You grips his hands tight, but not overly so, trying to focus on kissing him. Finally, after what seems like hours, he bottoms out, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. Yongbok pulls back from the kiss, tongue swiping over his lip to break the trail of saliva connecting your mouths.

“Does it hurt?”

“S-some, but not…it’s not bad…” He looks down to where your bodies are connected, groaning out a rumble as he sees your slick folds stretching to accommodate his fat cock. You’re so much hotter, wetter, and tighter than his hand could ever be and he’s already struggling to stay calm.

“T-tell me when I can move, but I’m not sure how long I can wait…” He’s breathing a bit harder, eyes clenched shut, brow furrowed, trying to remain in control.

“S-start slow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please.” You nod and he pulls back maybe an inch before going slowly back in. The searing burn remains, but it hurts less. He feels your gummy walls clench him, pulsing around him to the beat of your heart.

“M-more.” You nod again and he pulls back further, but goes in just as slow. He keeps this up till he pulls nearly all the way out before slowly burying back into your core. You’re breathing harder as well, trying to figure out if you’re still hurting at all, but only feeling better than you ever have before.

“Y-Yongbok, more, please-“

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, please need more~” He hums, picking up speed and your back arches, head thrown back as he starts to batter the head of his cock against your back wall, your tummy feeling on fire. Your fingers tighten around his, but he can feel your cunt spasming around him, your face all the way down to your chest flushing. One of his hands leaves yours, and you take your free one to wrap around his neck, keeping him close. His free hand finds its way to your hip, and he lifts you up more, changing the angle of how he’s fucking into you. Your breath immediately leaves you and another orgasm slams into you as he gives short but deep thrusts, the head of his dick perfectly thudding into your weak spot. He grunts, gritting his teeth as your gummy walls tighten into a slick vice and he wants so bad to hold back, but he can’t. He groans out and you whimper as you feel rope after rope of his hot cum pumping into you. As you both catch your breaths, and you can feel his cock softening, you cup his jaw in your hands. His eyes meet yours and he gives you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“I love you so much~”

“I love you too~”

Hanyang - historical name for Seoul nain - assistant court ladies sanggung - manage the palace and the royal family gungyeo - "Lady Officer of the Court" they were royal hand maidens or court ladies jimil nain - waited on the King and/or Queen and their family sangjeong - they managed and oversaw conduct, work and punishment of the Gungnyeo naesojubang - Gungnyeo department for preparing meals danryeong - "round-collar robe", often worn by noblemen and members of the council, ministries, or other officials. Ming - during the time of the Ming dynasty of China, they referred to the country as Ming hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. jeogori - the top/shirt part of a hanbok gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. samo - hats worn by government officials seong-jung - area inside the fortress walls of Hanyang seongjeosimni - area outside the fortress walls of Hanyang jungin - Upper Middle Class citizens sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like undergarment yo - Korean floor mattress goreum - the ties that fastened a top of a hanbok sokbaji - pants-like undergarment, mostly worn by women under their chima

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