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tojisteddy · 2 days ago

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Always, forever.

or: the one where you and Toji make your way home after getting stuck in the snow on Valentines Day.

cw: 1.5k words, pure fluff, curse words.

most recent toji core masterlist

“Good God, it’s cold as SHIIIIIT!”

“How many times are you gonna say that?”

“Until you get it into your thick ass skull.”

Valentine’s Day.

A time for romance. For love. Cute dates, chocolate, sweet kisses, proposals, and red hearts. For warmth with a loved one.

Well that didn’t happen this year, there was a blizzard.

The only people who were out and about were the people who had to work through the snow unfortunately and even then, businesses were closing early. With canceled Valentine’s Day plans and little to no food in the house, you and Toji made the treacherous journey through the falling snow to the grocery store. It was supposed to be a thirty minute trip, max.

But one thing about Murphy's law— it will always get worse.

You two had finished grocery shopping and headed to the car. Well what’s wrong with the car? The ten minutes you were in there, the car got stuck in the parking lot. So you and Toji were forced to walk in the snow. Streets we’re empty as ever, it’s fairly dark out, and you were cold as fuck.

“I told you wear a your scarf, but you don’t fuckin listen!” Toji griped, you two finally got to the main road that would lead you to the house. It looked miles away through the 7 inches of snow.

“I did listen! ‘it’ll be quick,’ you said. ‘yer over thinkin,’ you said! You know who didn’t listen? You! I told you we should just walk but you said the car would be able to make it, now look!” You raised your hands, gesturing to the current situation.

You looked over at Toji who was ignoring you. Sticking out his tongue to catch the snowflakes that fell from the sky.

“If my hands didn’t feel like they were gonna fall off, I’d sock you. I’m soooo serious.” You tried suppressing your chuckles but some still managed to get out. He looked so cute when he did childlike stuff like that. You could never stay fake mad for long.

The only sound being the crunch of snow from both of your feet. You were a shivering mess. You stopped in your tracks for a second, stuffing your hands in your turquoise coat pocket and shuffling them around to heat up.

“Why’re you stoppin?” Toji just six feet ahead of you. Tall ass.

“I’m inch resting to gettin hypothermia or somethin! My hands are freezing!”

“You don’t have gloves on ma?”

“What gloves?!” You exclaimed, stomping your foot over the packed snow.

Toji finally turned to look at you down to your hands. But he felt movement in his back pocket.

Oh, right!

The taller man marched his way over to you, taking his large hands in your and brought them to his mouth to breath on them.

“Better?”

“A little.”

He rubbed them a bit for more heat to circulate around them, then pulled out the black mittens that he accidentally put in his back pocket before you two went to the supermarket. Slipping them each on your hands.

“I- why do you have my mittens on?!” You frowned, glancing down to see your hands and there this big man was. With your like green flowered mittens on that you’d bought for yourself, being stretched out to greater capacity by Toji fucking Fushiguro.

“They’re warmer.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“You run warm Toji!” You whined, and Toji playfully whacked your forehead with the back of his hand.

“So? This is reimbursement for all my lost hoodies.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

A devilish grin formed on his face, pecking your lips and turning to keep walking. “I will, when we get home baby.”

You groaned in annoyance, a silly smile on your face.

You two walked for another ten minutes, snow finally ceasing for the time being but still hard to get though. Somehow you’d managed to get farther away from Toji who was making his large strides like it was nothing. This couldn’t have been his first time tracking through the snow like this.

It wasn’t, but that’s another story for a different day.

You stopped again.

“Mama—“

“—I don’t think-“ you clasped your heart in fake agony, “-I don’t think I’m gonna make it!” You yelled out, setting the over filled grocery bag in the snow. You crouched down. You were sick of walking through the thick snow, even though you were warmer, the bag was heavy, your body was heavy. This was all exercise you didn’t sign up for.

“If you don’t make it, we’ll just die out here then. together.”

Your brown eyes whipped up at him, who was completely resolute with the statement. Your eyebrows furrowing, mouth slightly agape from shock.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” A cheeky grin on his face.

…

Oh this guy, seriously this guy was something else. Your lips formed into a pout, bringing your knees closer to your chest. Toji clicked his tongue, huffing and puffing as he marched to you again. Standing you up on your feet by your armpits like a child.

“Seriously though, we really gotta get home mama. Dogs ‘re waitin for us.”

“But ‘m tiiiired!” You whined out, “can’t we just take a break?” You looked up at the man. Big brown eyes, snowflakes danced on your lashes and a cute pout in the perfect combination. You looked too damn cute for your own good.

Toji flicked your head again, “this is your break Doll.”

Before you could object, the man had your grocery bag in your left hand and took your right hand in the other. Gently tugging you forward so he could grab his two grocery bags he’d sat on the snow.

“You just need a little motivation. You like music right? Sing something.”

“Anything?”

“Anything baby.” He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. Leading you two through the snow, making sure the very few cars that passed didn’t come near you. You quickly thought of whatever subject that came to mind. Snow.

“Oh, the weather outside is frightful—”

“—Too close to our current situation.” The older man sighed, “Something else.”

“You said I could sing anything!”

“Anything but that!”

You squeezed his hand tighter, showing him how irky he was being but he didn’t react. You went through your mental catalog again, going through genre to genre like changing the radio station. And then you hit something good.

“I been on my worst behavior~ but, baby, I don’t need no savior—”

“—Love Ariana, but I don’t wanna hear that.”

You gasped, “How do you know that? You’re an Ari stan?”

Emerald green eyes rolled, “you’ve been playin it like your life depends on it all fuckin week!”

“And another thing, because Positions Deluxe is her best work to date—“

“—god damn, Doll. Just shut up and sing something.”

You grumbled, something about Toji being an ass. But complied none the less. Your eyes went down to your held hands, to the sky, the houses with chimneys puffing out smoking. You started humming an intro, a little joy entering you with each heavy foot step.

“There must’ve been an angel by my siiide~”

“Something heavenly lead me to yooouuu!”

“Look at the sky!” You made your way ahead of Toji, still hand in hand. Some kind of adrenaline hitting you.

“What color is it baby?” Toji hummed.

“It’s the color of loooove~” you belted out.

You weren’t a phenomenal singer, neither was Toji once he joined in. But the man loved seeing that giddy smile on your face, your skin heating up from how much you were smiling you were doing in the moment, breath forming in the harsh winter air, lyrics wrapped in giggles.

He swore he fell in love with you all over again at that moment.

Your voice filling the small Japan streets, as you lead the two of you home.

“Shit, we made it!” You yelped out. Jumping for joy as you two finally made it to the top of the hill where Toji’s fairly traditional home sat.

“Baby come on! it’s freezin!” Toji called out to you as you fooled around outside the gate of the home. You finished your mini rushed project, dusting your hands of snow and snagging the grocery bag to join your spouse and dogs in the awaiting home.

The night was cozy.

You two put a beef stew on before heading to the shower and bath (of course). Eating a much needed, soothing, and itis inducing dinner with a wine for you and a beer for Toji. Sitting comfortably in the large, stolen sweatshirt that once belonged to the older man. The dogs were right at the feet of your bed when the two of you called it a night.

Sade’s ‘Kiss of Life’ filling the both of your ears again, vanilla essential oil diffuser filling the air of your bedroom, putting you two in a much needed, deep slumber.

Snow gently trickled down on your quiet home.

Two small makeshift snowmen sitting comfortably inside of a heart under the stone nameplate of the house that read ‘Fushiguro.’

a/n: my v day post being pure fluff is crazy lol. But happy Valentine’s Day, much love to everyone. Genuinely think Toji isn’t one to do much for Valentine’s Day but he’d always set aside time for you.

#jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #tojisteddy presents #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader smut #toji smut #toji fluff #black reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #casual!toji #pure fluff #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #valentines day

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newtonsheffield · 2 days ago

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Idk why but that new little scene of Anthony we got gave me this idea of where Anthony is in his office late at night with his son sleeping beside him. He has taken Neddy with him to his office because he was fussy and Anthony wanted Kate to sleep. Once Neddy settled down they stay in there while Anthony does some work until Kate comes down to find them together and just can’t believe how lucky she is to have her little family that she never allowed herself to want.

Ugh I’m obsessed with them!! can’t wait to see an official picture or scene of Kate and Anthony together being new parent to baby Edmund!!!

I think that’s part of why this is so special. Kate never allowed herself to believe that she could be cherished this way if she wasn’t useful. And now she has Anthony whom she was an active menace to for months when they first met and he really does love her unconditionally. Anthony who was so excited to become a father he wanted to stand on the roof and shout it out to people. She feels lucky as well.

She’s heard from so many other ladies that their husbands couldn’t be less interested in their children. But Anthony’s not like that.

She woke slowly one night, confused at the darkness around her. She turned to nestle back against Anthony only to find him gone. Kate sat up, blinking slowly to take in their surrounds and then she heard it.

“I was out riding one morning.”

Anthony voice was coming from the next room, the faint glow of a candle leaking in from the sitting room.

“I was not my best self then and all of a sudden, a woman flew past me on a horse.”

Kate smiled to herself as she slid out of the sheets, padding over to peer round the doorframe. Her heart ached in her chest when her eyes fell on Anthony, with their tiny son cradled against his bare chest smiling softly.

“I thought she might be in trouble so I chased after her and when I caught up to her I realised she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Can you guess who that was? That’s right it was Amma. And she did not like me one little bit at first.”

“Are you filling our son’s head with lies?”

Anthony’s rumpled head shot up in surprise but his lips softened into a smile when he saw her. “Not at all. He was fussy and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I liked you plenty then you know.” Kate smiled, “I was even excited to see you that night. Then of course-“

“I opened my mouth a ruined it.”

“Quite.” Kate settled beside him on the sofa, running her fingers gently through Edmund’s shock of dark hair. “I never thought I’d find this.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you?” She could see the worry in his eyes. “You’re glad you chose me?”

“Anthony, I couldn’t be happier. I’m more than glad I found you. I’m not sure I ever would have allowed myself to acknowledge what I wanted if you hadn’t stormed into my life.”

Anthony pressed his forehead against hers, “I feel the same way. Now let me finish telling Neddy his story.”

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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chanranghaeys · 2 days ago

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☀️ here, there, and everywhere

This journal belongs to: me. If found, please contact this number. (And please do not read it—unless you want to read the ramblings of a person who fails to deny their feelings for a certain someone.)

pairing: lee chan x gn!reader word count: 2.5k+ genre: fluff for (belated) happy chan day and carat day! rating: pg tags: college friends, they grew up, time skips between entries, mutual pining, happy (open) ending, stream of consciousness, excessive italics, please read the whole thing as if it were a private journal of sorts warnings: mentions of alcohol, death of a family member (brief mention, off the page)

a/n: this is a self-indulgent piece on my ultimate crush and the love of my (kpop) life, lee chan. i can’t keep denying you, so here we go. in an alternate universe, you would’ve been my best friend that i loved to hate and hated to love, until one of us finally gave in to our feelings and hoped for the best. happy birthday chan! you’ve given me nothing but color in my life ever since i became a carat. i wish you all the beautiful flower paths ahead ✨

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Dear Chan,

You must think me pathetic if you ever found one of these letters.

It sucks…this little crush I’ve discovered I have on you. And I am only saying this ONCE on the page. And to no one else. Because when you talk about a crush, it only grows, right?

So I'll just talk about it to myself.

I hate crushes because they are so unexplainable. They’re unexplainable feelings that latch on to you so hard and never let you go until you fumble and mess up and just make an utter fool of yourself.

I first found out I had a crush on you last month.

I had long admired you from afar through your dancing. You’re beautiful when you dance—in the zone, focused, bursting with energy. I’m genuinely jealous of how you can do the things you do with your body, how you tell such beautiful stories with every little move you make.

But it was that time during a production runthrough—the simultaneous evaluations—where you made that one mistake almost fatal to your team on that one sequence you spent weeks perfecting.

Yet there you were onstage, just laughing it off. So instead of your team being anxious or frustrated, they just laughed along with you.

It turned out to be the best performance of the night, your laughing played off as banter and camaraderie by the guest audiences.

That’s when I first felt the intense grip of this thing called feelings on my poor little heart.

Absolutely disgusting.

Anyway.

This “writing letters I'll never send to you” is all just for me to really process all these feelings I’ve discovered for you. No other reason aside from that. In my head, this is a form of acknowledgment so I can easily get over whatever this is.

So yeah. Feelings. A crush. On you—someone younger than me—of all people. I can’t believe it.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We were crossing the street when you suddenly held my hand. You did that to pull me to the other side of the road farther from the direction of the car.

“Be careful,” you said.

I shouldn’t feel special. Maybe you do this with everyone else anyway.

I hate how I can’t help but feel just a teensy bit special. Indulge me on this.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I hate how you’re so stubborn. I hate how you’re so passionate. I hate how you’re such an amazing dancer. If I didn’t know better, I’d be so goddamn jealous of you.

Well, maybe I already am.

But above all that, I feel so in awe of you.

I hate how amazing you are in everything you do.

I hate how you’re actually inspiring me to be a better person. Little by little.

You’re inspiring me to be more diligent, to work harder, to believe in myself and my artistry way more than I ever thought I could—even through the infinite doubts.

Because that’s what you do to me.

“You can do it!” you said. “I’ll be right in the audience cheering for you, too. Because you’re my number one supporter, I’ll also be your number one supporter.”

I hate how you’re right. Why do you always have to be right?

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I don’t get it. I really don’t.

I don’t understand why you would do such things to me and for me.

It was such a simple and offhand remark.

“Is that a new necklace?” you asked.

“Nah,” I replied.

“It’s pretty. I don’t usually see you wearing that necklace. Where's the other one? The silver one with the daisy pendants?”

It was only because that one—my favorite one—broke and I didn’t have the time to have it fixed yet. Too busy with org scheds.

And you know what you said?

“Give it to me. I’ll have it fixed.”

What in the actual—

You didn’t have to do it, Chan.

Yet there I was, handing over my most prized possession...to you, my...friend.

You better give it back to me fixed, or else.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

We’re in the library pretending to study for this godforsaken exam. I’ve practically given up on it.

(lol just kidding I can’t do that)

So we’re on a break. You’re sitting right in front of me, writing something down in your own notebook. Good thing the tables are a bit wide. I really wish that you won’t be able to see your name plastered on top of this page.

I never pegged you for someone who writes. In my head, I will take this as my own influence over you after my constant stories of how journaling and writing is such a simple thing that can heal you so easily and thoroughly.

Maybe my influence, and Seungkwan’s as well. At least he’s a good influence.

It was so funny, even, how you made a huge show of showcasing your little black notebook. When you opened it, I saw that it was already bookmarked at the halfway point.

So you do write. You have been writing.

Stop making my crush on you grow. Stop.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You were so drunk last night. I don’t think you’ll remember any of it today.

But I remember everything crystal clear.

You’ve had how many bottles of soju at that point. You slung your arm around me and leaned your head on my shoulder. Never mind how fast my heart was beating at that point. Whether from alcohol, or you know what, I will never know.

You told me, “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

Your best friend.

A friend.

A stake to the heart would’ve hurt less, in my opinion.

But then again, better a best friend than nothing at all.

I wish I was as drunk as you were last night. Maybe I could forget that one sentence and just carry on living as if this thing between us is nothing.

As if us holding hands the entire night last night under the guise of you “needing a steady hand to hold so you wouldn't fall because you were drunk as hell” is no indication of any thing.

Whatever this thing is.

Sincerely,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I promised not to write anymore—believe me I tried. We’re best friends, right?

Best friends meet up for breakfast before going separate ways for the day, right?

Best friends make sure to ask if you’re home at the end of every day, right?

Best friends have random snacks or your go-to pick-me-up drink delivered to you when they know you’re having a terrible day, right?

Best friends do that, right?

Even if they’re both in separate relationships already?

I’m so confused. I shouldn’t be, but I can’t make it make sense.

Maybe it’s just me and these lingering and unresolved feelings. I hate them.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Thank you for meeting me as soon as I called. Thank you for holding me as my world fell apart. Thank you for comforting me even as my tears fell. Thank you for being reliable. Thank you for giving me my comfort ice cream. Thank you for helping me through this breakup even though I know you’re on the brink of your own.

Thank you for being a friend—my friend.

Thank you for always catching me whenever I fall.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m sorry about the breakup…or am I?

I’m not too sad about it, I’m sorry. I always knew they were a bit off for you. But I hope I’ve been the right kind of friend that you need right now.

Or however you need me. I'll be here for you, the same way you were for me. You know that right?

I know you held back a few tears when we were at the cafe earlier. You loved them, for sure. I know how far you go for love—that's how true your love is.

But you should've seen the look in your eyes. It tells me you’re not too too sad about it either.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Yeah, definitely just me.

Maybe it was more of me wanting to see the spark in your eyes again after you kept denying that it had been gone for so long.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

You should've seen your face earlier. It was so…

With all of your hip-hop and R&B playlists, I never pegged you to be one to appreciate any of the oldies.

“This is my favorite Beatles song,” I said.

You immediately stopped scrolling the phone hidden behind the book reading the book in your hand to listen to “Here, There, and Everywhere” playing from the cafe's tinny speakers, straining to make it out above the chatter of the establishment.

You said you'll pull up the lyrics to read, and as you did, the smile on your face grew ever so slowly with every word that your eyes traveled to. You started to slightly bob your head to the beat while mouthing some of the lyrics as the song continued on.

Okay, fine, I was watching you. You didn't notice anyway.

“It’s a great song,” you said. You looked up with this sense of meaning in your eyes. I feel like mine had a look of question marks in them.

Your fingers danced on your phone. I’m sure you added it to one of your playlists. Well, I hope.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is the last letter I’ll write. I promise.

It’s graduation tomorrow. If you give me nothing and nothing happens within the next month of tomorrow, I will stop this nonsense and maybe try to finally get over these feelings I seem to have for you.

Whatever it is.

I just…don’t think I can bring myself to do it first.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

This is so random but you just suddenly crossed my mind. And I remembered this notebook full of so-called "unsent letters to you."

I wonder how you are and if you're doing okay. I don't know why we grew apart after graduation. I just...I don't know. I can't even think about it without my head aching.

It does kind of feel like there's a hollow void in the shape of you somewhere in my body, particularly somewhere around my chest area.

(nope, I won't say it)

I hope you're doing alright.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I can’t believe you came. It's been five years since we saw each other, three since we last spoke, yet you came—the person I least expected to see in the wake.

I never thought there'd be another letter but how could I not write anything?

I didn’t realize how painful and heavy it was to lose my grandfather until you hugged me. You were the first one to see my tears. You were the only one brave enough to hold my broken pieces without caring if you'd get cut by my sharp edges.

How you were able to do it even after all these years will forever be a mystery to me.

Thank you for catching me before I further shattered myself.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’m still reeling from recent events.

It was so nice to see you again last night, though. Thanks for dragging me out of my apartment. It’s been so long since we went out like that, just for some frozen yogurt, which naturally turned into a few drinks because after all, it’s still the two of us together.

But good lord help me, I’m still in a daze. How can I be normal when I just dropped the biggest truth bomb of my life thus far?

I told you, “Maybe I’ve always wondered what it would be like if we ever tried before.”

But you know what you said? You know what you frickin’ said?

“I wish you told me earlier. Why didn’t you?”

Well, why didn’t you??????

I swear I could’ve combusted on the spot if I could. I swear I just said that so I could finally let go of this weight from my chest.

But you know what you did?

You walked me home. You made sure I was safe.

And then you visited this morning with coffee and breakfast to nurse the drinks from last night.

You’re just outside my room right now, sitting on my small couch, playing Beatles songs from the speakers. You’re waiting for me to finish whatever I’m doing here because you’re taking me out to see this movie I told you I wanted to watch. Why?

“We have to make up for lost time,” you said.

Chan, what are you doing? Just tell me so I know what I should do.

What do I do with you now?

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Happy Chan Day!

I hate you.

I wish you told me about your party earlier! I mean, even hours earlier, not like an hour or two right before.

Okay, I know it’s a spontaneous birthday party and all—I GET IT. But please tell your friends to at least invite your other friends beforehand? So we can also prep stuff for you, okay? I moved around so many schedules for this—for your party. How could I not?

So I hope you’ll forgive me for not preparing your gift yet. I was planning to get it in the coming days when my sched was relatively freer. Still, I’m really, truly sorry for not getting you a gift. I know you like getting gifts because you like giving them as well.

You know, it’s your birthday, yet you were the one who said something that was almost like a gift to me.

You said, “Don’t bother with the gift. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t really need anything else.”

Chan, I still hate you. I think.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

I’ve come to the harrowing realization that I’m in love with you.

No scratch that. I love you. Throughout all these years, I’ve always loved you.

How’s that for a hit-me-with-a-firetruck realization?

Yours truly (I wish),

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Dear Chan,

Do not laugh at me. Do not be condescending. Do not dismiss me—your best friend. Do not leave me hanging. Just…do not.

When I show you this, just don’t.

Just read it.

Yours truly,

— ✐ᝰ.ᐟ —

Hey, you.

If only you knew how many pages I’ve written about you. Glad to know I’m not the only one doing so.

It started on that day we were in the library. I’d already written about so many things, but that was the first time I ever wrote about you. I’ve never stopped writing since.

And even in pages full of you writing about me, I still write about you.

You’ve always been here, there, and everywhere to me.

Yours, truly and only yours,

Chan

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

NOW PLAYING: seventeen's playlist - song # 2

“To lead a better life / I need my love to be here // … // will be there and everywhere / Here, there and everywhere”

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reccyls · 2 days ago

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The Robin Who Grazed the Reaper’s Secret Eagerly Awaits His Words (Part 3)

My translation of Victor's 2025 birthday story.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue (Victor's POV)

Content warning: This part contains attempted rape

---

Kate: Ugh…

When I opened my eyes, an unfamiliar scene greeted me.

As I tested the ropes binding my arms and sat up, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

???: You’re awake?

Looking up, I saw a gaunt man with dirty clothes.

Man: Didn’t think that someone related to the queen would be so easy to kidnap.

Kate: Who are you?

I glared at him, and he squatted down in front of me.

Man: Someone who slipped past your silver-haired friend.

(Silver-haired friend… William?)

He smiled crudely as he ran his eyes over my body.

Man: A couple of weeks ago, he paid a visit to the orphanage.

He was talking about William’s previous mission.

Man: He said it was the queen’s will.

He hid himself immediately, and managed to escape William’s judgment. Since then, he’d been living in fear.

Man: And now here comes some guy calling himself the queen’s aide. Man: He’s obviously here to kill me.

So that was why he went after me. But…

(I doubt William would have let anyone escape on purpose.)

Kate: Do you know what the previous orphanage director or his associates were doing at the orphanage?

Man: All I did was take the youngest kids to an underground doctor every week. Man: They paid me to bring the kids to a doctor. I didn’t ask any questions. And now everyone else except for me is dead. Man: Of course I’m gonna be next.

(So he wasn’t worth exterminating.)

Kate: We aren’t here to kill you.

Man: Liar!

Kate: Really, we’re no- Aahh!

The man shoved me to the ground, then straddled me as he grabbed my shirt.

Man: Might as well go out feeling good.

Kate: No, stop–!

The hand that was reaching for my chest stopped as the man seemed to notice something.

Man: The hell is this? Cream?

The man was puzzled as he noticed the remnants of cake plastered to the front of my shirt. And then–

Man: Argh!

There was a loud impact as the man was thrown to the side.

Victor: Kate!

After kicking the man aside, Victor cut the ropes around my arms and held me tightly.

Victor: Are you hurt?

Kate: I’m fine… Um, why are you–

Victor: When you didn’t return, I got worried and went to look for you. I heard from some witnesses that you had been kidnapped off the street. Victor: I’m sorry, I wasn’t with you.

Kate: It’s not your fault, Victor, I–

Even as I took comfort from his warmth, tears of guilt welled in my eyes.

Man: Damn it–

Whirling around at the man’s voice, Victor pulled me in even closer.

Victor: Kate, can you close your eyes?

Kate: What?

Victor’s voice was gentle, and I closed my eyes as instructed. At the same time, his hands covered my ears.

(Just what is happening–)

After a number of seconds, I felt the impact and the wind as if something had fallen over. Instinctively, I opened my eyes.

Kate: Huh…?

The man had collapsed in front of me. He had a look of rapturous joy on his face, even as both his hands were wrapped around his own neck. He was dead.

(What… How…?)

Unable to comprehend what had just happened, my mind went blank.

(...Is this Victor’s ability?)

Slowly, hesitantly, I looked up to see Victor’s pained expression as his gaze met mine.

Kate: Vic-

Victor: Let’s head back.

He removed his hands from my ears, then took my right hand.

And then all I could see was his long black hair cascading down his back as he turned around.

...

When we emerged, it was raining, and the rain was quickly growing heavier. We ended up having to shelter under the eaves of a nearby building.

Kate: The rain is really bad.

I reached for any topic to break the awkward atmosphere that had fallen over us. Victor was used to silence. He was wiping off the cream that remained on my shirt.

Victor: … There was a cake left behind at the location where you were taken. Victor: Was that supposed to be my birthday cake?

Kate: …Yes.

Unable and unwilling to hide anything anymore, I told Victor about mine and William’s plan.

Kate: I wanted to celebrate your birthday by letting you rest during a fake mission. Kate: I’m sorry. Everything was ruined.

There was no resting, no celebration. I’d even gotten kidnapped. I stared at the ground in disappointment and shame. But then– Victor’s jacket was draped over my shoulders and he tilted my face upwards.

Victor: I’m sorry.

Kate: What?

Victor: I realized that there was something going on when William first mentioned this mission. Victor: I knew that the both of you wanted to celebrate my birthday.

(He knew from the very beginning…)

A sadness lingered deep in my heart, and I found myself reaching for his shirt.

Victor: But I pretended not to notice. Victor: Because spending time with you is the best celebration I could hope for.

Kate: Victor…

Even though his hand was freezing due to the rain, I still felt a warmth in his palm.

Victor: Kate.

As if mesmerized, I couldn’t bring myself to look away from his eyes.

Victor: I have never thought of you as weak, or as someone I can’t rely on. Victor: Because from our very first meeting, I’ve always thought you were the strongest person I know.

The unceasing rain, the coldness of his body, my racing heartbeat.

Victor: I have always…

Victor’s lips moved slowly, the shape of his next words forming. For this moment, that lasted not even a single second, All I could do was continue to wait.

#ikemen villains #victor (ikevil)#my translation

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 days ago

Note

For your Valentine’s Day Event what about a mini-blurb about spending your first V-Day as Eddie’s partner

❤️❤️❤️❤️

the image of your first v-day with eddie and both of you being such nervous messes is so endearing to me i love him your honor. i need to be a nervous wreck with him please.

wc: 2k+

When the day had first started, you were determined that it had to be perfect.

You thought that your outfit needed to be faultless, and destroyed your room in the process of rummaging your closet for a specific shirt you just had to wear. You thought your makeup had to be flawless, and you’d redone it nearly three times, leaving your skin raw and irritated after the third removal of eyeliner. You were convinced your plans for the night had to be exemplary, and you and Eddie had changed your minds too many times to count in the weeks leading up to the day.

Nerves. And stress. And picking at the beds of your nails until you’d made one bleed and took it as the Universe’s sign to cut it out.

The day of love had morphed into something twisted, a terrible buzzing beneath your skin that was less than comfortable rather than the warmth in your chest that you had come to associate with adoration.

“You should have seen his face, sweetheart,” Eddie cackles as he continues to recount a story from the latest Hellfire session, one hand clinging to yours as they swung between your walking bodies and the other holding up a cone of ice cream to match your own, “I told him to leave that damn NPC alone, and he just wouldn’t listen.”

“Serves him right,” you mumble, feeling miles away and hating it.

Normally, you’d be entirely enthralled by Eddie’s stories. Latching onto every last word, waiting with bated breath for every turn of his tales. And yet, right now, all you could focus on were your nerves.

Is he having a good time? Is he enjoying himself? Is the night perfect for him, at least? Is he sorely disappointed about me, and realizing that this is all a mistake? Not just this date night, but everything-

“Hey, are you feelin’ alright?”

Eddie stops in the middle of the sidewalk suddenly, and you only notice by the tug of his hand halting you in the process as well.

“Hm?” you hum, trying to drag yourself back down to Earth. Trying to quiet all the voices in your head panicking at full volume. “Me? Oh, yeah, I’m fi-”

“Don’t say you’re fine,” he rushes to interrupt, quirking a brow, “You’ve hardly said shit the last hour. Did I... Is something wrong?”

This is the part where he lets me down gently. This is the part where he admits he’s having the worst time of his life, and that we should break up.

You force out a laugh, giving his palm a pathetic squeeze, “I am fine, Eddie. Just… just…”

This is the part where he realizes what a terrible partner I am, because I can’t even make Valentine’s Day fun.

Except, he doesn’t.

His entire face softens, and he takes a step closer before his voice drops to just shy of a whisper, “Just in your head?”

Your stomach sinks. He had noticed – he had noticed, and probably stopped having any fun because of it.

On instinct, you start to shake your head, but he only gives you a knowing look.

“Look, I know I’m kind of a dumb ass half the time, and I know I can be a little oblivious, but…” he motions vaguely at you with the hand holding a melting scoop of rocky road, “I can tell what’s something up. With you, at least. So… what’s up?”

You want to correct him. Either tell him how even on his worst days, the days where he’s been the most annoying pain in your ass, you’d take him over someone else on their best days – or make a joke about how he’s definitely a dumb ass more than half the time. Jest how it’s okay, because you’re a full-blooded idiot almost all of the time with him. You want to reassure him, staring at you with puppy dog eyes, how it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with you.

It’s only been one month. A measly month of dating Eddie, adoring Eddie, getting to know the endless labyrinth that is him inside and out.

It’s only been a month, and you’re still sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Insecurity is a bitch to kick.

“It’s not you, it’s m-” you begin before realizing your mistake in an instant. His face breaks so solemnly, and heartbreak is painted across the heights of his cheeks and dark brown pupils clear as day. He thinks you’re breaking up with him. “Wait! No, okay, no, I- That sounds like I’m breaking up with you. I am not breaking up with you.”

He sighs out in relief, a breath you hadn’t noticed him holding, as his shoulders relax, “Jesus H. Christ, you scared the shit out of me-”

“I’m scared you’re going to break up with me,” you blurt out before he can simmer too long in the relief. “I’m just- I’m terrified that this date night is going to shit, and I’m so fucking nervous, and I… I don’t know,” your voice trails off, dropping in volume with each word before you slowly blink up at him, bracing yourself for impact, “I’m scared that I’m fucking up our first Valentine’s day together.”

You wait for him to confirm all your fears, or to make fun of you, or to burst with relief at finally being able to agree that you were ruining the night.

No such thing when it comes to Eddie Munson.

“What?” he laughs a little breathlessly, dulcet eyes locked in on you, “I’m sorry, you think you’re ruining the night with your nerves?”

All you can do is nod.

Because it’s true. It’s why he hadn’t kissed you the entire night, scared you might jump at the press of his lips surely. It’s why you had to be the one to grab his hand initially, probably so jumpy that he was convinced you’d run like a scared animal if he moved too close.

“Baby,” he’s smiling ear to ear now, smooth like honey as he sighs out in more relief. The pet name sounds nice on his lips; if you weren’t so in your head, you might go dumb in the head at the way it tumbles off his tongue, “Oh my God. Are we both idiots?”

What?

“I never said you were-”

“I’ve been rambling for the past hour, non-stop,” he cuts you off, taking a step closer to you, “I spent nearly three hours getting ready when I’d usually take an hour tops, freaking out over what you’d think about my goddamn t-shirt. Wayne nearly kicked me out of the trailer when I started pacing about whether I got you the right kind of flowers,” as the confessions spill out into the air between you, you notice some of the buzz beneath your skull dulling. The voices in your head turning down the volume, notch by notch, “I haven’t even kissed you yet tonight because I’m so fucking nervous – you had to grab my hand first, for fucks sake. If anyone is fucking up this date by being a mess, it’s me.”

Little, by little, by little. The voices go silent. The buzz leaves, and the warmth tickles at the back of your throat.

He was just as nervous as you were.

All you can do is laugh.

It starts small, the teeniest of bubbles bursting from your chest, but it quickly descends into something borderline concerning. Giggles overflowing from you, making you bend at the waist just a bit from the force of them, eyes tearing up at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I-” you gasp out, and Eddie just beams at you. Heart eyes and all as he watches you finally unravel from all your stress that’s strangled you the entire night, “Oh my God-” another little hiccup of a laugh, and he joins in a bit, “We’re so…. So…. dumb.”

There’s not a better word for it. Only the plain ones, simple ones.

Dumb, stupid. Idiots. The two of you were such idiots.

“Wanna know a secret?” you’re finally able to hoarsely whisper once you get control of yourself once more, Eddie leaning in eagerly, vibrant eyes locked on yours, “I thought you weren’t kissing me because I’ve been all jumpy, so nervous and shit. I… I thought it was because of me.”

Something melts. Slowly, warmly. Frigid and icy nerves between the two of you run away in rivers as he looks at you, so soft and so enamored, half his lips twitching up in a barely-there grin.

“Well…. We can’t have that, can we?”

Each movement is intentional. A little sure, but you can still taste the hesitancy when his lips first meet yours so feather light. Just a taste, a quick test of the waters.

And immediately, whatever hesitancy lived within both your bones, leaves along with the nerves.

He starts to pull away from the peck, but you’re quick to drop your ice cream cone of cookies and cream just to bring both hands up to the nape of his neck properly, racing to press him back into your space. A sharp chuckle falls from him at first, trying to get a look at your discarded cone, but you won’t let him get too far – you need his lips back on yours, and you need to just… laugh.

Laugh about how stupid you two had been. Laugh because neither of you ever had any reason to be nervous.

“Your cone!” he gasps into the kiss, and teeth clash a bit as you smile widely and shake your head.

“Forget the cone. We can get new ones.”

He drops his cone as well, right on queue, as he pulls you hard into him. Lets your chest meet his, your hips melting against his. One cold and sticky hand, one warm and sweaty palm, and a whole lot of skin he’s been restraining himself from exploring the entire night.

Eddie Munson kisses you in the middle of the sidewalk until your knees are about ready to give out. Until your lungs have shrunk a few sizes with all the air he’s stolen from you. Until you can’t even remember why you had been so nervous to begin with.

This? This is nice. This is what you’d expected of your first Valentine’s day with the fool kissing you like his life depends upon it.

“Hey, Eddie?” you finally break the ongoing kiss a bit, his forehead chasing yours to stay pressed up against you.

His arms circle around your lower back to hold you tightly as he hums in response, eyes still shut and a goofy grin overtaking his aching cheeks.

“Wanna just… have a redo of our first Valentine’s day?” you offer, making his eyes flutter wide open, “No nerves fucking things up this time?”

Is a month long enough to fall in love with someone?

It sure feels like it as you trace over the dimples, all the creases beside his eyes. It feels a lot like love, when you’re being honest with yourself.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he teases so gently, thumb tracing arcs against your spine, “Where do we start, sweetheart?”

“Well, I think we need to get some ice cream…”

You trail off and look to the ground where broken cones are scattered amongst melting sweet treats.

One might argue that that’s the true mess of the night, but you hardly care. It’ll clear away with the rain due next week according to the weather forecast.

Whatever is happening between you and Eddie, though? That’s going to take a bit more than one stormy night inside both your heads.

“Absolutely,” he quickly presses a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose, and you let out a snort – something that a few moments ago, might have embarrassed you straight to your grave. Not now, though. “Say… I know this killer ice cream shop that we’ve just got to try. One you’ve totally never been to before.”

“Really?” you play along, leaning further back against his arms. He still refuses to let you go as he nods so assuredly, “And I’ve never been there before? Not even in the, let’s say, last thirty minutes?”

He bites his lip to stop his smile from growing any larger, but it’s a hopeless effort, “Definitely not. Trust me, sweetheart. Best rocky road and cookies ‘n cream in town. Swear it.”

Maybe perfect looks a little different than you’d imagined in your head, and maybe that’s alright.

“Lead the way, Munson.”

#ghost's stories #v-day party #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #god i love this fool so much fuck #i can't believe you guys are forcing me to write such long “blurbs” oh nooooo #i can't believe you forced me to do thiiiisssssss #*i hope you can hear my sarcastic tone over the computer. please. i love this. thank you for sparking all the feels for me this v day*

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ch33z3grits · 2 days ago

Text

Crimson Obsessions | A Terry Richmond Vampire Series

pairing: Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond x Justine Skye as Camille DeWaterson

summary: Camille attempts to return to her usual life in Houston, trying her best to forget the club owner that stays on her mind and in her heart. But a new member of her firm shows her that she won’t be forgetting that night anytime soon. Terry has used the time since the bachelorette party to find the best way to insert himself in Camille’s life. Taking advantage of a chance opportunity, fate if you will, he starts to put his plan into motion.

warnings: 18+ mdni, dark romance, manipulation, obsessiveness/possessiveness, mentions of sexual acts, mentions of BDSM, cyberstalking

word count: 6,624

a/n: thank you all for the feedback on the last part! This part is definitely less spicy... BUT, it does give a lot of background that's necessary for the rest of the story. Hope you all enjoy :)

Camille’s song: Can’t Get You Out of My Head-Kylie Minogue | Terry’s song: Excitement-Trippie Redd

Pt. Two

Camille

Camille was pulled out of her sleep by the soft harping of her alarm. Groggily, she blinked the remnants of her dream from her eyes. It was a dream similar to the ones she’s had every night since she had returned from New Orleans. The mysterious club owner, on his knees with her legs draped over his shoulders, slurping her dripping pussy like it was his last meal. Or he would be folding her like a pretzel, digging her out until she saw stars. Or he would press her into a wall, thrusting into her from behind. He would tell her she was being such a good girl for him. His eyes would bore into hers as he relentlessly sent her over the edge multiple times. She would be trapped in his gaze until her alarm came to her rescue every morning.

Like usual, her fiancé’s side of the bed was already empty. Aston McCoy was determined to make junior partner early at the law firm they both worked at. To show the leadership at Watkins & Grant that he was the perfect candidate for promotion, Aston would arrive at the office an hour and a half earlier than everyone else. His early arrival required that he leave the apartment they shared at 5:30 AM to get to the office by 6:00 AM.

Camille didn’t mind waking up to an empty bed every weekday morning. In fact, she looked forward to it. Don’t get her wrong, she enjoyed Aston’s company. But these quiet mornings were slowly becoming the only moments she had where she was away from him. After moving into his apartment three months ago, Camille realized that his presence consumed every part of her life. They worked together, lived together, ate together, shopped together, went to events together. And they always seemed to only do things he wanted to do. Camille couldn’t help but feel like she was losing her life and getting absorbed by his.

She threw off the comforter and stood from the bed, trudging towards the bathroom to begin her daily routine. After brushing her teeth and doing her skincare, she turned the shower on to let the water warm up as she walked into the closet to pick out her outfit for the day. Like her father, Aston was very concerned with image. Because of this, he always encouraged her to wear things that “whispered wealth.” He bought her expensive work dresses from brands that his old money friends mentioned. He encouraged her to keep her nails short and neutral. And he always wanted her makeup and hair to be feature enhancing, free from any distracting colors or textures. For the most part, Camille didn’t mind because she naturally went for the look that Aston wanted. But whenever she did drift outside of her comfort zone, it was always met with displeasure.

Camille reached for a black turtleneck sweater, a black maxi skirt, and nude pumps. The Houston weather had been all over the place. Even though it was mid February, the temperature climbed to 70 degrees some days then dropped into the 40s right after. Today was one of those 40 degree days, so Camille hoped her outfit was enough to keep her warm. She laid the clothes on the bed, then proceeded to strip and get in the shower. After washing up, she stepped out to apply her lotion and perfume. For her makeup, she took her sweet time at the vanity space, savoring the still morning. Once she applied the finishing touches, she returned to the bed to pull on her outfit. Lastly, she pulled her silk pressed hair into a sleek bun.

Same old same old, Camille thought, bracing herself for the somewhat stressful day. When she first took the paralegal job at Watkins & Grant that Aston helped her secure, she was beyond excited. She envisioned herself working with a diverse team of attorneys, diving into a variety of cases and tackling a wide range of legal issues. But Aston had other plans. He convinced his managers to funnel all his cases her way, effectively monopolizing her workload. Every once in a while, one of the other associates would pass along a case that sparked her interest—like something in Environmental Law—but those moments were rare. Most of the time, Camille was buried in Aston’s Property and Financial Assets portfolio. She appreciated the privilege of her position, she knew how fortunate she was. But working for her partner wasn’t easy. He ran a tight ship and his workload was more than average, meaning hers was more than average too.

After checking that everything was in her work bag, Camille moved towards the large apartment’s front door. I’ll get breakfast at the office, she decided as she rode the elevator down to the parking deck. She slid into her Lexus, placing her bag on the passenger seat. Aston preferred that she came to work with him in his Porsche Cayenne. But she loved the Lexus that her dad bought her after she graduated from college. Besides, she wasn’t waking up three hours early just so her coworkers didn’t see her older car.

Camille’s guilty pleasure, the NASA Curious Universe podcast, got her through her 30 minute commute to the office and her search for a parking spot in the packed deck. With a final sigh, she grabbed her bag and stepped out of her car.

“Good morning, Mr. Pat,” she waved to the security guard who watched the deck most days. Mr. Pat waved back, giving her a warm smile she didn’t know she needed. “Good morning Ms. Camille,” he replied. “Don’t work yourself too hard today!”

“I’ll try my best,” Camille called back with a giggle. But she knew that today would be like every other work day. Aston would pile on the work, she'd eat lunch at her desk, and stay late to finish it all. But she couldn’t complain. After their honeymoon, Aston wanted her to stay at home, which she didn’t mind at all. Though she dreamed of using her Economics degree to become a florist and open her own shop, staying home was still better than being Aston's glorified personal assistant.

“Good morning, Mr. Watkins. How was your weekend?” She said as she stepped into the elevator with one of her bosses. Camille always greeted the senior partner of the firm, Mr. Charles Watkins. He always extended kindness to her and often tried to get Aston to lighten her load. “Camille, how’re you doing?! My weekend was just perfect. The missus and I tried to go sledding in North Dakota with our grandkids. It was a disaster because of my bad knee,” he laughed. “But going anywhere with Mabel is always a great time for me.” Camille smiled brightly as he babbled on. Mr. Watkins always spoke highly of his wife of thirty-six years, Mabel. Maybe one day, if their love evolved beyond fulfilling their familial duties, Aston would talk about her like that. But for now, she settled for the mutual respect and attraction they had for each other.

In college, Camille had fallen deeply in love with Aston when they got together sophomore year. But two years into their relationship, she discovered he’d been cheating on her for eight months. The betrayal shattered her. They broke up, despite his protests, and Camille wasn’t swayed by his desperate attempts to win her back. Their fathers had to step in, reminding them that their relationship was never about love—it was a business arrangement. “We’re not here for love, Camille. We’re here to merge Texas oil with Louisiana oil refining,” her father had said. So, Camille and Aston reconciled in their senior year, but Camille kept her heart locked away, vowing to never to be as open with him, or anyone else, as she once had been.

“Oh Camille, by the way. Will you be in the office around 11:00 AM today? Grant and I have an announcement to make and we want to make sure the whole team is present.” Camille started to nod. Of course she would be, she never had time to leave the office.

“Yes sir, I’ll be there. Will the announcement be in the conference room?”

“It sure will be! You’re always one step ahead of me, Camille,” he chuckled as the elevator finally paused on their floor. “Well, I’ll see you then. Tell McCoy I said good morning.” With that, Mr. Watkins walked out of the elevator and rounded the corner towards his wing of the office.

Camille walked in the opposite direction towards Aston’s office, smiling politely at her coworkers along the way. The glass walls of Aston’s office showed him already hard at work. A coffee cup and an open Celsius sat on his desk, hinting as to why he had so much energy already. She knocked lightly on the glass door before letting herself in. He rose from his desk as a smile spread across his face.

“Morning baby!” He greeted with his Texas drawl. Camille couldn’t help but return his smile. Despite his past discrepancies, and some of his overbearing and superficial ways, he was a genuinely pleasant person. He maintained a positive attitude and he could always brighten up a room. He was like a golden retriever.

“Good morning,” Camille giggled back. “You seem to be in a really good mood. Did I miss something?” Camille said, placing her stuff on the desk in the corner of his office.

He bit his fist, laughing softly. “Baby… I think today’s the day. I think they’re going to announce that I’m the new junior partner!” Camille gave him a warm smile. “I’m so proud of you! Look at you, all of your hard work is paying off and ahead of schedule,” Camille stated, walking around his desk to give him a hug. He returned the hug with enthusiasm, rocking her back and forth in his arms. “Thank you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You know what this means? No more early mornings! We’ll be able to come into the office together.”

Camille nodded, a pang of guilt going through her. She didn’t want to give up her mornings alone…

“Wow, I mean who would’ve thought that he would be making junior partner before his 35th birthday,” Aston sighed, looking at the picture of himself that sat on his desk. He was standing in the DKR stadium at their Alma mater, the University of Texas, his arm extended with his hand in a “hook ‘em Horns” gesture.

Camille smiled at his silliness and patted his torso before pulling away from their embrace. “Mr. Watkins or Mr. Grant hinted at it or something?” She asked.

“Yea, Grant was in the office early today and he swung by to tell me that they’re making a big announcement today that I’m going to be very pleased with.” Camille didn’t think his smile could get any wider, but it did. “Well I’ll be sure to be the first one in the conference room to get a good seat, so I can get a good picture of you,” Camille said, feeling a bit better about the day.

“Thanks for being so supportive, Millie,” Aston sighed happily. Camille inwardly cringed at the nickname she never had the heart to tell him that she hated. “But,” he continued, his tone getting more serious. “We gotta make sure this chapter of my career ends productively. You ready to do one final sprint, babe?” Camille nodded with a closed mouth smile as he dropped a thick stack of papers on her desk. She knew she would be glued to her desk until it was time to go to the conference. Bracing herself, she opened the file and got to work.

Two hours later, she sighed with relief as Aston’s watch went off, signaling that it was fifteen minutes until 11 AM. She rolled her wrist to bring her cramped hand back to life. Aston rose from his desk and began to pace between his office mirror and his coat hanger that held his suit jacket.

“What do you think baby? Should I wear the suit jacket or does it look too formal?” He asked, nervously looking at her through the mirror as he adjusted his tie. “The suit jacket,” she said. “It screams junior partner.” He smiled in agreement. He threw it on and gave himself one final look.

He opened the door for Camille and they headed down the hall to the grand conference room. Once inside, they sat near the head of the table, eagerly awaiting the good news.

Within the next five minutes, dozens of other employees began to file into the room. The early birds were able to grab seats at the long table, while those who dragged their feet had to find standing room. At around 10:57, Mr. Watkins and Mr. Grant walked in, quieting the chatter that filled the space. Aston squeezed Camille’s thigh under the table with excitement.

“Thank you all for making it to this meeting! We've been excited to share this announcement for some time now, but we had some logistical issues we had to work out,” Mr. Watkins proceeded after clearing his throat. “Since we started this firm, Tom and I have always been careful in our selection of partners. As the face of the firm, they had to be exceptional. We wanted a partner who is disciplined, innovative, and exceeds expectations. And we are glad to say that we found that partner. From the moment we met him, we knew that this young man would go far, farther than either one of us.” Aston’s grip on Camille tightened. “He’s so promising, that even at his age, he’s going to be made a partner instead of a junior partner. But before we dive into his bio, let’s introduce you all to our newest member of the Watkins & Grant family, Mr. Terrence Richmond.” Both Camille and Aston stiffened, his hand slowly loosening from her thigh. Camille looked at Aston from the corner of her eye, seeing shock cross his face.

Oh no, she thought as she joined the resounding applause that filled the air. She hadn’t yet looked at the large figure entering the conference room, instead focusing on Aston’s shifting expression. And he was so excited… the poor thing.

“Oh my God,” Stephanie, Mr. Grant’s secretary, whispered to her friends. “I’d love to ride that pony!” That statement made Camille’s attention snap to the newcomer. As her eyes landed on his face, her applause faltered and her stomach dropped. It was him. The man who had been consuming her mind since Chloe's party. The man who haunted her every fantasy, lingering in her mind when she least wanted him to. The man she’d been desperately trying to forget, to quiet the guilt that gnawed at her every night as she laid next to Aston.

Even with subtle changes, he was unmistakable. His cornrows had been replaced by a low, curly fade. His face was now clean-shaven, except for a sharp goatee and thick, commanding eyebrows. The gold chains were gone, replaced by a sleek silver watch. Despite these shifts in appearance, he was undeniably the same man she had danced on with four weeks ago, the one who still burned in her memory.

If he recognized her, he didn’t show it. His eyes only lingered on hers for a second before shifting to another person. Camille quickly regained her composure and resumed clapping. Maybe he doesn’t remember me, she thought. He’s probably gone through enough women by now that he’s forgotten my face. Camille relaxed slightly. Yea, there’s no way he remembers me.

“Mr. Richmond is an excellent attorney who, after a lot of begging on our end, has agreed to a one year rotation as a partner with us,” Mr. Grant, who never speaks highly of anyone, chimed in. “His portfolio will cover intellectual property, government contracts, and impact investing. Some of our associates, like Aston McCoy, have been trying to get us to add intellectual property and impact investing to our services for years. Now that we have Terry, we’ll be able to expand our reach in the world of law, and interested associates will be able to work under him.” Mr. Grant nodded in Aston’s direction. Aston gave him a tight-lipped smile as he continued. “Prior to law, Mr. Richmond served in the United States Marine Corps for seven years, where he was a MCMAP instructor while simultaneously earning his bachelor’s in civil engineering. After exiting the service, he attended Florida A&M University’s College of Law where he graduated top of his class. Out of several offers, he chose to work with the prestigious Washington D.C. firm, Cravath. Under Cravath, he worked with clients like the Department of Defense and Microsoft with cases surrounding crypto, AI, and energy systems. Now, Cravath is letting us borrow him for the year as a part of a national attorney swap program.” Mr. Grant paused to lead everyone in another round of applause. “Mr. Richmond, is there anything else you’d like to share with us?” Mr. Grant asked.

Terrence Richmond smiled brightly. “Mr. Watkins and Mr. Grant, thank you for such a lovely and thorough introduction. And thank you all in advance for welcoming me to your team. I hope I’m able to learn a lot from you all and hope that you all find that my presence adds value here. Please feel free to drop by my office at any time, I’m always happy to chat. And please,” he added, the entire room hanging on his every word. “Just call me Terry.”

A fresh wave of enthusiastic applause rippled through the conference room, signaling the end of the formal meeting. The room buzzed with energy as people eagerly swarmed Terry to introduce themselves. Camille wished she could melt into the wall, desperate to slip out unnoticed. But before she could formulate a plan, Aston was already on his feet, pulling her toward a door on the opposite side of the room, away from Terry. As they made their escape, Camille couldn't resist a glance over her shoulder. Everyone was too absorbed in fawning over Terry and his impressive resume to notice them leaving, except for one person.

Terry.

His eyes locked onto her like a hawk and he flashed her a sly smile that sent a wave of heat through her. She quickly looked away, heart racing. She still wanted to believe he didn’t remember her, but that look left her uncertain.

Aston continued to drag her into his office, closing the door once they were inside. Camille watched as he paced the room, thinking of the best way to calm him down. She swallowed. “Bab–” he cut her off swiftly.

“What the hell was that?! Are they fucking kidding me,” he yelled, making Camille wince. “I’ve been busting my ass for the past three years here and they just let this new guy waltz in and become, not even junior partner, but partner?! Well, fuck me in the ass,” he grumbled.

“Language Aston, please,” Camille sighed.

“No Millie. This isn’t fucking fair. I mean, who even is this guy? Should’nt he still be in the fucking Marines! What the hell is he practicing civilian law for?” He continued to pace. “And what school is Florida A&M? I’ve never heard of it. I went to Yale for Christ’s sake! Did they really think I’d be happy about this? Just because he expands our portfolio in the way I suggested?!”

Camille placed her hands on his shoulders, attempting to soothe him. “Baby, please. I know you’re upset and disappointed, but you can’t react like this. At least not here.” Aston pinched the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths. “What if someone sees you?” She whispered. He froze momentarily, glancing at the office’s transparent walls.

“You’re… you’re right, babe. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for cursing. Come on, let’s just get back to work,” he walked away from her and plopped down behind his desk. Camille released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She knew he didn’t feel any better, but he put on a relaxed face anyway. That would have to be good enough for now. She slowly walked back to her desk, returning to the thick stack of documents. The office was silent except for the clacking of Aston’s keyboard and an occasional click of a mouse. But a few minutes later, Aston started back up again.

“I mean, where’d they even find this fucking guy!” He quipped. Camille groaned, dropping the highlighter in her hand.

“He’s on the goddamn MCMAP Wikipedia page. Watkins & Grant can’t let some damn jiu-jitsu instructor represent them. They–”

He was cut off by a knock. Camille and Aston’s head snapped to the door. Behind it stood Mr. Watkins… and the devil himself. Aston plastered on a fake smile and waved them in enthusiastically. “Come on in!”

“McCoy, Camille. You both rushed out of that meeting like two bats running out of hell. But I know how y’all like to keep yourselves busy. Just wanted to stop by so Mr. Richmond could meet you two,” Mr. Watkins explained as they stepped inside. Terry let out a deep chuckle, sending a ripple of pleasure through Camille.

“Please, just call me Terry.” He said, extending his hand to Aston. Aston’s fake smile twitched. “Great to meet you, Terry. Welcome to the firm!”

“I appreciate it,” Terry returned, his eyes settling on Camille’s. He licked his lips as his eyes swept over her figure, but the other two men didn’t notice. “Ms. Camille, a pleasure to meet you as well.” Camille gulped as she grasped his large, extended hand. She tried to pull away after a brief shake, but he gripped her hand just a little bit tighter, his thumb tracing light circles on the back of her hand. She shuddered. Shit, he does remember me. And he isn’t going to pretend like nothing happened between us.

“Nice to meet you too, Terry.” She looked away from his unyielding gaze.

“Now Terry, I told you plenty about McCoy on our walk over here. But not nearly enough about Camille! She’s the greatest paralegal that the associates have, but McCoy here likes to hog her. But I guess that’s to be expected of her future husband.”

“Future husband?” Terry interjected. “Y’all are engaged?” He asked casually, turning his attention to Aston.

Aston nodded vigorously. “Yep, for the past four months.”

Camille’s stomach sank as he looked back at her and gave her a predatory smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, feeling like a lamb in the jaws of a wolf.

“But we’ve gotta split these two up eventually, it’s only fair.” Mr. Watkins chimed in. “Camille will start having more diversity in the cases she helps with. So if you ever need a hand, Terry, please feel free to reach out to her.”

“Oh, I will. Most definitely,” Terry purred, causing Camille’s face to heat up.

“Great! Well, we will leave you all to it. Don’t forget to take your lunch,” Mr. Watkins called out, holding the glass door open for Terry. Terry gave Camille one last heated stare, before turning to walk out of the office.

Terry

Terry chuckled to himself as he thought about how Camille reacted to him walking into the conference room. Her fine ass looked exactly how he wanted her to. A doe caught in the headlights. Her dark brown eyes widened and her mouth fell agape comically. He had to hold in his laugh so he could give the rest of her colleagues a polite introduction.

When Terry pulled up her LinkedIn the day after she left Crimson, a satisfied grin tugged at his lips when he saw her listed as a paralegal. Fate was definitely on his side. Over the years, Terry had cycled through countless careers and identities, always one step ahead of those who might start asking too many questions or notice that he doesn’t really age. While he was deeply involved with Crimson and other ventures catering to the supernatural, he had also kept a foot in the legal world, practicing law on and off for the past four decades. He would spend years establishing himself as a sought-after attorney, only to disappear and reinvent himself in a new city when the time was right. Currently, he was one of the most respected lawyers in Washington, D.C. Last year, he joined a nationwide network of top-tier lawyers, offering their expertise to other firms. Firms across the country had courted him, but none had been as persistent as Watkins & Grant. So when Terry saw that a particular paralegal worked there, he decided to finally accept their generous offer. A few weeks later he was sitting in an opulent executive suite with his name on the door and his beloved Camille only a stone’s throw away.

Of course, Terry didn’t stop at Camille’s LinkedIn. After much digging, he found her social media handles, as well as the ones that belonged to her friends and family. Hundreds of pictures, tweets, videos, and articles helped him piece together her life. Camille was the second child of Colin and Anastasia DeWaterson, a business executive turned oil refinery owner and a celebrity costume designer. While Anastasia came from wealth, Colin came from humble beginnings. A country boy from Alabama who climbed the ranks of Georgia Power after gaining a business degree from Morehouse. The couple married in their early twenties and welcomed their first child, Colin DeWaterson Jr., after two years of marriage. One year later, they had Camille. Three years after that, they had their second daughter, Chloe. Their fourth and final child, Cole, came almost eight years after.

The DeWatersons main residence was originally in Jonesboro, Georgia. But the children were rarely there. Colin Jr. was overseas in a German boarding school specializing in math and technology. Camille and Chloe were a bit closer to home attending a boarding school in Virginia. And Cole was in California at a school with a top-ranked basketball program. But in Camille’s sophomore year of high school, Mr. DeWaterson relocated his family to Louisiana after a distant relative passed, unexpectedly leaving him ownership of a few oil refineries in the state. From then on, Mr. DeWaterson attached himself to every wealthy family he could. And his connections seemed to pay off. The DeWatersons grew in popularity and became pinnacles of Black excellence in Louisiana.

But as time went on, the family seemed to attract scandals at every turn. A few years ago, rumors began to circulate that DeWaterson Sr. had an affair with a secretary, resulting in a baby. Although he denied the claims, he supposedly refused to participate in a DNA test and gave his secretary an undisclosed amount of money. Mrs. DeWaterson, battling stage three breast cancer, refused to make public appearances with her husband for over a year. At the same time, the youngest DeWaterson daughter began acting out. She dropped out of her Ivy League school to run off to LA with her then-boyfriend, a rising fashion designer. She got into a physical altercation outside of a LA nightclub, which was highly publicized. And she decided to go skinny dipping in a fountain at a well attended charity event. The DeWaterson sons also made headlines. During a sermon at his great uncle’s church, Colin Jr. came out to the entire congregation with his boyfriend. And Cole was accused of arson at his high school in Louisiana shortly after he transferred.

The only person who remained blemish free since the DeWatersons rise to notoriety was Camille. No scandalous articles, messy drama, or embarrassing incidents about her came to the surface as Terry continued his thorough search. Only mentions of her various awards, philanthropic acts, and social outings. But one particular article really piqued Terry’s interest. “The McCoy and DeWaterson Ties are Binding in More Ways Than One: The Engagement of the South.” The webpage outlined how the children of business partners Richard McCoy and Colin DeWaterson Sr. were soon to be wed. The author also accused the couple of joining together not for love, but to secure another level of wealth for their families. And Terry couldn’t agree more. As he analyzed the relationship further, he concluded that this was all orchestrated by their fathers. Camille would do anything to please her father and protect her family’s name. Even if that meant she had to sign her life away to some entitled white boy.

Terry let out a pleased sigh when he finally ended his investigation into Camille DeWaterson. It appeared he had a sweet, obedient, good girl on his hands. Women like her were always the most satisfying challenges. He was going to enjoy stealing Camille away from her fiancé and turning her into his personal slut. Overstimulation, edging, sensory deprivation, primal play, shibari… he would introduce her to it all. He would ruin her over and over and over again, breaking her down until she was a slutted out, cock-drunk mess. And when she breaks, he will gladly put her back together again. He would nail her to the cross just to resurrect her so he could be at her beck and call. She’d be his pampered sex kitten that he would spoil rotten, happily giving her the life that she deserved and freeing her from the exhaustion of being Little Miss Perfect. A kept woman who wouldn't have to do anything but love him.

But accomplishing this would require more than just working at Watkins & Grant. Terry would have to do much more to reel Camillle in and push McCoy out of the way. And he had to start now.

He opened the new laptop on his desk that was provided to him earlier that morning. All of the necessary accounts and applications had been installed and downloaded by the IT department. He only cared about one app at the moment, though.

Teams.

Every employee was just one message away. He scrolled through the names until he found Camille’s. He let out a ‘hmmm’ when he saw the green dot next to her name. She was available and online, prompting Terry to send her a quick, straightforward message.

Camille

Camille’s heart thumped loudly at the message that flashed in the corner of her computer screen.

Come here. We need to talk.

The devil was beckoning her to his office, and she had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The man could easily reveal what they did a few weekends ago to Aston, and her life would go up in flames. He could dangle that night over her head for the next year if he wanted to. He wants to blackmail me, Camille thought as she chewed on her lip. Why else would he be giving me those taunting looks? What other reason would make him call me to his office?

Camille desperately wanted to decline, knowing that any interaction with him could only lead to trouble. But what choice did she have? Avoiding him might piss him off. And who knows what he’ll do if that happens.

OK.

She sent the response and immediately shut her laptop. He couldn’t make any more demands of her if she couldn’t see them. Aston paused briefly at the sound of her device closing. “You going to lunch now?” he asked. “Yep,” she responded. That’s the perfect excuse, she thought. “Where are you going?” he pushed further. Camille chewed her lip nervously. She was always a bad liar. “I’m not sure yet. I’m feeling a little spontaneous.” She grabbed her bag and moved towards the door to avoid more questions.

“Wherever you go, can you get me something with chicken?” She grimaced. Now, she actually had to leave the building. “Sure, babe. I’ll be back soon.” And with that, she began her journey to Terry’s office.

His office sat within the executive wing of the floor, where the top employees got to enjoy the best views, the sleekest offices, and their own personal bathrooms. Terry’s new office had sat vacant for months and was often visited by Aston when he made his rounds in the morning. “This’ll be mine one day,” he would tell Camille from time to time. She understood his admiration of the space.

The office featured twelve-foot ceilings with floor-to-ceiling windows offering an unobstructed view of the Houston skyline. The space was fully equipped with the latest technology: a sleek smart screen, a modern kitchenette, and remote-controlled blinds. While the walls were glass like the other offices, a simple press of a button gave the glass an opaque frost, instantly giving the occupant privacy. It even had a connecting room, dedicated for a personal assistant. All in all, the room exuded a sense of sophistication, making it a space where work and luxury effortlessly coexisted. Any other time, Camille would be excited to take a trip to the executive wing. But this time, she was terrified.

She softly knocked on the door bearing the plaque “Terrence Richmond,” still trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. But the butter smooth voice that said “Come in” on the other side of the door told her that there was no escaping. Camille quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind her. Tucking her hands nervously behind her back, she watched Terry lazily toss a mini Houston Rockets basketball up and down, up and down. One of his welcome gifts from Mr. Watkins, she assumed. She couldn’t help but admire the beautiful man for a moment. His perfectly chiseled face. His plump lips. The way his muscles flexed beneath his clothing. He was like a dream come true. But Camille knew she had to wake herself up, because he could easily make her reality a nightmare. She cleared her throat, snapping herself out of the trance.

“You wanted to see me?” She asked quickly, just wanting to get this over with. He gave her a cheeky smile, making her knees buckle momentarily. “Hello to you too, Camille.” Her cheeks heated up as she mentally chastised herself. That was a little passive aggressive. She let out the breath she had been holding and approached his desk. “Look Terry, I know you probably want to make this as torturous for me as possible. But can you make this little game of yours quick, I have to get to lunch.”

Terry’s smile faded into confusion, his tossing coming to a stop. “What are you talking about?” Camille forced herself not to roll her eyes as she sat in the plush leather seat across from him. “You have some leverage that you can use against me. So what do you want? Let’s not dance around this.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” He threw his hands up innocently. “Honestly Camille, I called you in to say that if you stay cool, I’ll stay cool. I don’t want to make any problems for you.”

Her chest tightened as she searched his eyes for any insincerity. She didn’t find any. Shit. Camille had completely miscalculated his intentions. And had the nerve to accuse him of messing with her head! That whole interaction they had in Aston’s office was probably meaningless. She was the pervert for thinking that the looks he gave her or the tone he had were sexually charged. She slumped in the chair, upset that she had jumped to conclusions. With a shaky sigh, she said, “Terry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come for you like that. It’s just that…when I saw your message, I-I panicked-”

“Camille.” He interrupted gently. “You don’t have to apologize. This is exactly why I wanted to talk. I don’t want you to think that I would try to hurt you or your career. I was serious when I said that what happened would stay between us.” Terry’s words soothed her frayed nerves, but intensified her guilt. She was the one who risked her relationship and made him out to be the bad guy, but he was handling her like an innocent puppy.

“So do we understand each other?” Terry asked, his voice soft with an authoritative edge. She nodded. “Yea…thanks for addressing this, Terry. Can we just start over?” His dazzling smile returned, and she swooned internally.

“Yes ma’am.” he chuckled. “You can start by telling me a little bit about yourself.”

Terry

Ignoring the erection painfully brushing against his boxers, Terry nodded politely as Camille gave him a brief, humble introduction. Her feisty little attack when she first came into his office almost made him lose his cool demeanor and devour her right then and there. Terry knew that his Teams message would get a reaction out of her. And he needed to see it to understand where her head was at. Did she feel guilty? Was she worried that he’d tell her business? Would she try to avoid him? The way she pounced on him told Terry that the answer to all of his questions was yes.

He swelled with pride as she attempted to put him in his place. Her face was all serious and she puffed her chest out a bit. It was absolutely adorable and a turn-on at the same time. Terry was glad to see that she wasn’t a doormat and could handle some confrontation.

Though she wasn’t sharing anything he didn’t already know, Terry couldn’t help but ask more about her life—why she moved to Houston, how she met Aston, what she enjoyed doing in her free time. He wanted to savor every moment with her, to stretch the time they had together. After all, it was the first time he had seen her in person since the incident at Crimson. For the past month, he had to survive off her pictures and videos to satisfy his need to see her face. But they only fueled the sexual dreams that have been plaguing him since their last encounter. Dreams where he would have her pressed into his bed with her ankles by her ears. Or she would be bent over his kitchen counter with his fangs in her neck. Or his tongue would be slipping through her folds and sucking on her sensitive bud. Each dream would end the same. With her wetting up his dick, those pretty brown eyes clouding over with pure ecstasy.

His fist and imagination hadn’t been enough to satisfy him most nights. So he would invite women who were more than happy to please him over to his place a few times a week. But still, they couldn’t fulfill his deepest desires. He knew he wouldn’t have what he truly needed until he was between the legs of the gorgeous, intelligent, and sweet woman who sat before him.

As they spoke, he couldn’t help but observe the little details that made her so captivating. The way her eyes lit up when she mentioned her family, the subtle shift in her gaze when their eyes lingered too long, the warmth of her voice that seemed to wrap around him. He even noticed the delicate crinkle of her eyes when she laughed. Each small gesture, every word she spoke, was seared into his memory. As she shared a story about her favorite class from undergrad, her gaze drifted to the clock on the wall of his office. Realizing the time, she jumped to her feet. It had been twenty minutes.

“Oh, I completely forgot I had to go get lunch,” she said, shooting Terry an apologetic smile. “I hate to cut this short, but…” she trailed off. Terry quickly concealed his displeasure at her leaving. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll find another time.” She gave him a small wave as she opened the door. “Bye, Terry.” He waved back, groaning slightly as his dick jumped from his name slipping off her tongue.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. From his brief exchange with Aston, it was clear he’d have to tread carefully with Camille—at least for the next few months. Terry could tell that the motherfucker didn’t like him, and the feeling was mutual. But he would stay civil, for now. He couldn’t risk Aston getting pissed off and discouraging Camille from building a friendship with him.

His strategy would take longer than he liked, but Terry was willing to be patient. For Camille’s sake, everything had to feel effortless, natural, like it was always meant to be. He would play the long game, staying under the radar, making sure nothing disrupted her world. He would start subtle, appearing as nothing more than a friendly colleague. But slowly, he would weave himself into her life like a shadow she won’t be able to escape, but will eventually begin to crave. This next year, patience would be Terry’s virtue. Because there was no way he was returning to D.C. without Camille on his arm.

----------------

@nayaesworld @slvt4her @writingsbytee @notapradagurl7 @23jammy @kaylaahisthebestest- @theogbadbitch @wabi-sabi1090 @hotgyalaroad @nubiagurllll @lovedlover @dimepiece09 @lavaniiii @simplyzeeka @susanhill @next-bex-bet @sparklytemi @sonotlauryn @ranikyani @loveschrisbrown20 @daddyslittlevillain @blackchickinthedesert

i think i added everyone this time!

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre smut #rebel ridge #terry richmond #terry richmond smut #terry richmond fic #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre x black!oc #vampire fiction #aaron pierre fic

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nakylvr · 3 hours ago

Text

— BACK TO ME

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary જ⁀➴ after an argument breaks out and hurtful things are thrown, you leave for a few days, and daniela realizes just how much she needs you

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ angst with happy ending, language, established relationship, dealer!dani au, arguments

now playing જ⁀➴ back to me by the rose

things had been straining recently. with tax season coming up you spent most of your days after work trying to figure out how to not get completely fucked over and get a ton of money taken out. you also got promoted at your job, which was both a blessing and a curse. more money was always a good thing, but your patience was already wearing thin when the argument started.

you had just gotten home, wanting nothing more than to relax when you realized daniela wasn't in the apartment. too tired, you shrug it off and lay down on the couch, still in your work clothes, not bothering to change. you ended up falling asleep faster than you anticipated.

when the front door opened, it was dark outside. you could hear it, but you couldn't find it in you to get up.

"yn?" daniela's voice is heard quietly. "what are you doing on the couch?"

you hum, opening your eyes groggily and looking up at her. "where were you?" you mumble.

"had to run out real quick," she answers. "come on, let's go to bed."

"for hours?" you say before you can think.

daniela's expression changes at your words, but you don't notice past the dark in the room. "i needed to do some stuff," she responds. "i'm sorry." she doesn't know why she's saying it. most likely out of fear that this conversation will spiral out of control after all the bullshit that happened earlier in the year. she doesn't want a fight right now, and she's trying to keep it from happening.

"who were you with?" you ask, slowly sitting up.

"minji," daniela answers truthfully. "she needed some help getting a gift for hanni, then she came with me for a deal that i had to do on the way back."

your eyebrows furrowed together, looking back at her. "you let her go along with you?" you inquired.

"yeah?" dani replies, but it comes out unsure. "i knew you were getting off work late and i didn't want to bother you."

"but you let minji go with you?" you press. "you told me i was the only one."

"well, yes. but minji's my close friend, i–"

"didn't see anything wrong with it?" you cut her off. "cause it looks a little weird when all your clients know me and then you show up with some other girl that's not me? let me guess, you saw keeho?"

"how did you–" daniela gets cut off again by you talking over her.

"he texted me," you tell her. "asking, and i quote 'who this random chick' is with you instead of me. so it's not just me thinking i'm crazy."

"i didn't say you were crazy," daniela quickly says, shaking her head. "baby, please, this isn't that serious. you know minji."

"but other people don't," you respond. "what if it wasn't keeho?"

"i-" daniela stops herself, taking a breath. "this is the only time i've brought someone other than you."

"but why?" you stand up from the couch, making daniela take a few steps backwards. "you're the one who tells me that you don't let anyone go because you don't want them to see, but minji is just a different story or something?"

"it's one time!" daniela says, her voice raising slightly. "why does it matter?"

"why does it matter?" you repeat. "you tell me, daniela. you tell me." you cross your arms over your chest.

daniela is quiet for a minute, trying to think of the right thing to say to not upset you more. "i know what you're thinking, but this isn't a big deal. i let her come along because it was keeho. nothing else, no other reason," she tells you. "i promise."

"not a big deal, you keep saying that," your voice turns sharp. "what's not a big deal? that i'm reasonably concerned when you're out hours past when i got back and tell me you were doing some stuff, helping minji get a gift for hanni, and do a deal? because those are multiple different answers."

"oh my god," daniela mumbles, looking around before back at you. "yn, seriously, it's nothing."

"give me your phone," you demand.

"what?" she looks at you confused.

"consider this a phone check. give it to me." you hold your hand out.

"you're serious?" daniela asks. when you don't answer, just stare at her, she pulls her phone out of her pocket and hands it to you. "jesus christ," she grumbles under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

looking through the recent messages, your fingers hover over one specifically, and when you glance up from the phone to look at daniela, she feels her heart drop to her stomach at the expression on your face.

"so what? you have clients wanting to get you shit for valentines day? is that the excuse you're going to give?" you say seriously, tilting your head to the side.

"what?" daniela lets out. "no one has–"

"what's this about then?" you hold the phone towards her, showing a thread of messages.

"that's jaehyun!" daniela exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "he's my friend!"

"and you know i don't like how close he is with you!" you retort, your voice raising. "every time we go to his place it's like i don't even exist! he's obviously hitting on you!"

"he literally isn't! he's gay!" daniela scoffs, shaking her head. "plus, he literally has a boyfriend!"

"well that didn't stop you the first time, did it?" the words come out faster than you could think.

"right," daniela scoffs again, nodding her head. "right, because it's always my fault, isn't it? i'm always the one fucking up, right?"

"yeah!" you nod. "you're the one who says you can pull anyone, and then you act like i'm fucking crazy when people are all over you and i don't like it! like it's not right for me to feel upset even though i'm your girlfriend!"

"i've never called you crazy! when have i once said that?!" daniela's voice starts getting louder, nearing the edge of yelling.

"but you look at me like it!" you end up yelling first. "like-like it's a problem that i get jealous! you're allowed to have your hands all over me when i'm with my friends when you're jealous but when you have three different girls who give you thousands of dollars each month all over you it's weird when i get defensive and jealous!? that's not fair, daniela!"

"so what? i'm supposed to just sit there while girls eye-fuck you or try to get all close?!" daniela retorts. "you don't even know! you're so fuckin' naive that you think everyone just wants to be friends!"

"naive? i'm naive?" you let out a laugh, shaking your head. "right, sorry for being nice enough to make friends who don't just want to fuck me for some shit!"

"they still want to fuck you!" daniela yells. "look at sophia! you ran to her when shit got hard and look what happened! who's telling me that you won't go run off to some other 'friend' of yours only for them to fuck you while you were still mine!"

you stop once sophia's name is spoken. daniela knew better than to bring her up after the events that happened, knowing how much you regretted your stupid decision and how bad you felt about it afterwards. but in the heat of the argument, the second the words leave daniela's mouth you're standing there in silence.

"you know what," you eventually speak up. "maybe i will."

"will what?" daniela asks, seemingly not realizing what she said and how you took it.

you shake your head, letting out a scoff. you toss her phone on the couch and walk into the bedroom, not saying another word.

"yn?" daniela sighs. "yn! what are you doing?"

a few minutes later you walk back out with a bag in your hands, making daniela's eyes go wide.

"what're you doing?" she asks.

"i'm going to jungwon's for the night," you answer simply. "or, the rest of the night, i guess."

"what?" daniela looks at you confused. "why?"

you stare at her with a deadpan expression, waiting to see if she'll notice what she said. when she clearly doesn't, you shake your head again. "because he's a friend who won't fuck me while i'm still yours. those are your words," you tell her before starting to walk to the front door.

your words make daniela realize what she said, and she immediately starts following after you to the door. "yn? yn, baby, don't be like this! i didn't mean to bring her up!"

"but you did." you swiftly turn around, causing her to abruptly stop. "you did even though we talked about it and you knew how fucked up i felt afterwards. but if this is what comes out of your mouth when we argue, then i know you're still pissed about it. so, i'm leaving for the night, or maybe a few days, i don't know." you shrug. "i know i fucked up with what i did. i regret it. but you told me it was okay. when apparently it isn't if you're bringing it up. so while i'm gone, you think about what you want, daniela. because you are on thin ice, and it's cracking. so figure it the fuck out."

you leave the apartment before daniela can get a word out, the door slamming behind you echoing through the place. she stands there for a few minutes, waiting to hear you come back, but you never do.

"god damnit," she sighs, dragging her hands over her face.

the whole remainder of the night daniela kept texting you, telling you to come back, that she was sorry and didn't mean it. but, that's how she always was whenever you two fought. and you were tired of everything right now.

when you got to jungwon's, he was surprised to see you, but when you explained the situation he immediately brought you inside and talked with you about the whole thing. he was always good with comforting others and advice. plus, he could tell you were straining yourself recently.

while daniela sat inside the apartment, moping around waiting for you to come back, still texting you as the day passed and you didn't return or respond. she knew you were upset with what she said, that was obvious. and she couldn't lie and say that the event didn't gnaw at her every fiber since she found out, even if sophia got what she deserved in the end, because it did. she knew it shouldn't. that it was a moment of vulnerability for you, that you had no one else to go to. it all spirals back to her regretting what she did in the first place to start it all.

for the whole day daniela thought of what to do, how to fix this. she sat on the couch for hours thinking of what will make you not mad at her anymore. when she got an idea.

it was day three and you still weren't responding, so daniela took matters into her own hands and texting jungwon asking if you were there. he answered truthfully, saying that he wanted her to figure it out with you so he was trying to help the most he could. so she drove over to his place.

standing in front of the door, daniela shifts her weight from one foot to the other anxiously, biting her lip in hopes that this would work. the door opens and jungwon is revealed, who smiles at her.

"hey, dani," he says. "she's in the guest room."

"thanks," daniela replies, walking past him when he opens the door wider for her.

approaching the guest room, daniela knocks on the door a few times, hearing you hum on the other end. she slowly opens the door, making you turn and see it was her. your expression hardens, and dani notices, knowing she's still in deep shit.

"hey," she says awkwardly, pulling the flowers from behind her back. "i got you these." she holds them out, looking at the ground.

you can't help the way your eyes soften at the tone in her voice, quiet and hesitant compared to the confident loudness you were used to. she looks like a kicked puppy staring at the ground, and you let out a short sigh before getting off the bed, walking over to her and taking the bouquet from her.

"i'm sorry for what i said," daniela mumbles. "i didn't mean to say it i just...i still think about it sometimes and i don't know why. i know you didn't do it to hurt me on purpose but sometimes i...i worry that you're going to leave once you realize i'm not the best for you."

her words shock you as she still stares at the ground, finally speaking the thoughts that had been eating her up inside. "dani..."

"i-i know i'm not the best," she quickly adds. "i know you can find someone who will treat you better like it's nothing. but i don't– i can't lose you. i love you so much, so fucking much, and it scares me so much when we fight because i know every time it's another tick gone and that eventually you'll get tired of me and leave. i don't want you to leave. we fight, we have our ups and downs, but you always stay. you always stay and i know one day y-you won't." daniela's voice cracks at the end, tears filling her eyes the longer she talks. "i'm sorry." a few tears fall.

carefully setting the flowers on the bed, you take another step towards her and cup her face in your hands, making her look at you finally. "it's okay," you tell her softly. "you're right, i always stay. i always stay because i love you. i wouldn't if i didn't. dani, i don't think you know that you are the best relationship i've had. all of the other ones ended like shit. you prove to me time and time again that even if you fuck up, you own up to it and you don't run away. i won't ever get tired of you, i promise." you wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. "i love you, and i love the flowers. you always know what to get me."

"i try," daniela responds quietly, nodding slightly.

"i know." you nod. "and i love that about you." you lean in, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

parting from the kiss, daniela's arms snake around your waist and pull you close to her as she puts her face in the crook of your neck. "i love you," she murmurs against your skin.

"i love you too," you reply, petting her head gently.

#katseye thoughts 💭#katseye x reader #katseye imagines #daniela avanzini thoughts 💭#daniela avanzini x reader #daniela imagine

58 notes · View notes

heliosunny · 3 days ago

Note

You. Author. The way you write characters as a yandere was amazing especially the way you write a story. (Especially the hsr fanfics you made)

Is it alright to request a self-aware au! For yandere soshiro x reader where he finds out he's being watched and can hear the reader's voice whenever they watch an anime?

Like the reader knows about him (since they also read the manga) and he has been obsessed with their attention and wants to drag them into his world.

It started as a feeling.

A strange, crawling sensation at the nape of his neck, just beneath the roots of his hair. The kind that made the skin prickle, the muscles tense, the breath catch in his throat. There were no eyes peering from the shadows, no lingering gazes from those too terrified to meet his. This presence wasn’t there, not in any way he could define. And yet, it was constant.

Then, he heard you.

A voice, just barely above a whisper—drifting through the static of silence.

It was so quiet at first that he thought it was inside his head. But then the words came. Clear.

"He looks different in this scene. The shading makes him seem even colder than usual."

The words had no source, no direction.

He turned sharply, scanning the dimly lit room, his fingers curling into fists. No one.

"I love this part. He looks so cute."

Who was speaking? No, where were they speaking from?

It wasn’t the voice of anyone he knew. It was smooth, thoughtful, laced with a kind of familiarity that unsettled him more than anything. Because who could possibly speak about him like that? With such certainty? With such knowledge?

If someone had been watching him all this time, unseen, unnoticed…

Then perhaps it was time he started watching back.

The voice didn’t leave him.

At first, it was sporadic—fragments of sentences slipping through the silence like whispers through a keyhole. But as time passed, it became clearer.

The more he listened, the more he began to understand.

The voice—your voice—wasn’t just talking about him. It spoke of things it shouldn’t know. Thoughts he had never uttered aloud. Events that had yet to unfold.

And the most unsettling part? It was right.

The first time he heard you say something about his future, he dismissed it. A coincidence. A meaningless murmur in the depths of his mind.

Then it happened again.

"This is where he starts to realize something’s wrong."

He started noticing the cracks.

A shadow cast by nothing. A brief flicker in the air, like a painting losing its color for a fraction of a second.

And then, one day, he saw you.

Not clearly. Not fully. But just enough.

A glitched reflection in a darkened window. A hand resting where there was no surface. The faintest outline of eyes, always watching.

"Found you."

You had been watching him all this time.

Now, it was his turn.

Soshiro was nothing if not methodical. Once he confirmed your existence, he did what he always did—he studied.

Patterns. Recurrences. The times he could hear you most clearly.

Every story had rules.

And every rule had a loophole.

He began speaking back.

"Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

The second time, he made sure you would hear him.

"I know you're there."

It was subtle at first. The way the air around him seemed to pulse, as if something on the other side had reacted. Had flinched.

The more he pushed, the more he could see, hear, feel. He caught glimpses—distorted reflections, the glow of a screen where there should have been darkness.

You were real. And you were so close.

He just needed to reach you.

And he would.

The mission was simple. Eliminate the threat.

But the moment the kaiju appeared, something was different.

The air was wrong. The sky pulsed with colors that had no name, bleeding together like ink soaking through paper. Space itself seemed to bend, and in the center of it all, the beast let out a roar that made the world shudder. The kaiju’s claws tore through the air, but instead of leaving destruction in its wake, it left something else.

A hole.

It wasn’t fire. It wasn’t smoke. It was nothingness, gaping and endless, edges flickering like static on a broken screen. It crackled, twisted, spread out like a wound in reality.

He heard you.

Louder than ever.

"Oh my god—what is that?!"

If he goes near it, will something happen?

The voices hit him all at once, not whispers this time but clear, distinct. As if you were right there.

He turned sharply, his attention no longer on the kaiju, no longer on the battle. His eyes locked onto the tear in space, and for the first time in his life, he felt something close to hope.

This was it.

The cracks in his world had always been small—fleeting glimpses, fractured reflections, an endless chase with no way to reach you.

But now?

This was a tear. A wound wide enough to slip through.

Wide enough to pull you in.

Soshiro took a step forward. Then another. His pulse roared in his ears. He ignored the shouts of his team, the kaiju’s guttural growl, the chaos unfolding around him. His world was breaking. And this time, he was going to break through. The portal flickered violently, unstable, unpredictable—but he had always been good at forcing things to go his way.

"Come here."

The moment his fingers brushed the edges of the portal, reality fractured. A sensation unlike anything he had ever felt ripped through his body—a pull, deep and consuming, as if something was unraveling him from the inside out. For a brief, terrifying second, his vision twisted and he saw something beyond comprehension.

He saw you.

Your eyes wide with shock. Your breath caught in your throat. The glow of a screen illuminating your face in the darkness of your room.

The static howled around him, but he was faster. His hand shot out, fingers closing around your wrist. Your gasp barely reached his ears before the world lurched.

A force yanked you from your world, dragging you through the spiraling abyss between fiction and reality. You had no time to scream. Everything blurred into a cacophony of white noise, a crushing weight that swallowed you whole.

You didn’t know how long you had been unconscious.

There was no sense of time, only a deep, disorienting emptiness. Your body felt heavy, weighed down by something invisible, as if reality itself was pressing against you.

"Are they alive?"

"Shit—where did they even come from?"

"They must’ve been caught in the kaiju attack. Civilians weren’t supposed to be near this zone..."

"Damn lucky they're breathing at all. Get them back to base."

Someone knelt beside you. A hand brushed against your cheek.

"They're fine. Just need some rest."

Even in your hazy state, your body knew that voice.

Soshiro Hoshina.

Memories flashed in jagged fragments—his hand gripping your wrist, the sensation of falling, being pulled through something.

As you slowly forced your eyes open, blinking against the bright lights above, the truth crashed down on you with suffocating weight.

The world around you wasn’t yours.

You were lying on cold concrete, surrounded by figures clad in gears, their expressions wary yet confused. Towering buildings loomed in the distance, sleek and industrial, lined with neon-lit signs in a language that wasn’t your own.

This was the world you had watched.

The world that shouldn’t have been real.

And standing over you was him.

Soshiro’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

"Looks like we found a survivor."

The others exchanged uncertain glances.

"They're not in the registry. No records of their ID or whereabouts."

"We’ll have to run a background check—"

"That won’t be necessary." Soshiro’s voice was calm, steady.

He crouched beside you, close enough that only you could hear his next words.

"I already know who you are."

Your body still wasn’t listening to you.

It couldn’t be real. And yet, the cold concrete beneath you, the weight of unseen eyes on your trembling form—everything screamed otherwise.

"But... there were no reports of missing persons in that sector."

"Then it must’ve been an error in the reports." His tone was level, absolute. The kind that brokered no argument.

A few hesitant murmurs. Then, grudging acceptance. No one questioned him.

Why would they?

He had planned for this. Anticipated it. And now, he was using it.

You forced yourself to sit up.

"I—" Your voice cracked, weak from whatever had happened to you. "I need to—"

"You need rest."

Soshiro’s fingers curled around your wrist just slightly—just enough to let you know you weren’t going anywhere.

"I’ll take responsibility for them" he announced. "They’re under my watch until we can confirm their situation."

Another silence.

Then, reluctant agreement.

"Come on" he murmured. "Let’s get you home."

-----

The moment you arrived at base, Soshiro barely gave the others a chance to intervene.

"They’ll stay with me."

"Are you sure? They might need—"

"I’ll take care of it."

And just like that, you were his to handle.

"You’re not going to say anything?" His voice was calm.

You swallowed hard, your throat painfully dry. "What am I supposed to say?"

"You’ve been watching me for a long time, haven’t you?"

"I told you, didn’t I?" His voice dropped. "I know who you are."

Panic clawed at your chest. "Hoshina—"

"Soshiro."

Before you could move, he was already there, closing the distance between you.

"I’m the only one who knows the truth. The only one who can know." His voice softened, but the intensity never wavered. "Do you understand what that means?"

"It means you belong to me now."

"You can’t just—"

"You don’t exist here. No records. No past. No one would ever question it if I kept you for myself."

Despite the overwhelming wrongness of your situation, despite the way Soshiro's eyes devoured every flicker of emotion on your face, you still had an advantage.

You knew something he didn’t. What happens next.

Your lips parted before you could stop yourself. "Soshiro, you need to listen to me."

"Oh?" He tilted his head, eyes sharp with intrigue. "Giving me orders already? That’s bold, considering your situation."

"I know what’s coming. The kaiju attack—this wasn’t just random. The next breach—"

He raised a brow, interest piqued. "Next breach?"

"In two days." The words tumbled out before you could stop them. "The defenses won’t hold—"

You stopped yourself.

What am I doing?

Soshiro was silent. Then—he smiled.

"That’s interesting." His voice pleased. "Really interesting."

"Tell me...how exactly do you know that?"

You hesitated. "I—I overheard something."

A lie. A weak one.

"Is that so?"

You nodded quickly, hoping to press your advantage. "It doesn’t matter how I know. What matters is that it’s real. You need to prepare."

He hummed thoughtfully, his fingers tracing lightly over the sleeve of your borrowed uniform.

"You’re full of surprises" he murmured, voice almost affectionate.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. "You believe me, don’t you?"

"I suppose I don’t have much of a choice."

Your shoulders sagged slightly, relief washing through you.

After that conversation, everything changed.

The medical team checked you over, confirming what everyone already assumed—you were exhausted but fine. No external injuries.

But you weren’t allowed to leave.

"For your safety" they said.

You weren’t even sure whose orders it was under.

The next morning, you were moved to different quarters—no longer the medical wing, but somewhere more secure.

And the first thing you noticed?

Your new room was close to his.

You had tried not to overthink it. Had tried to convince yourself that it made sense for them to keep an eye on you. You were an unknown factor. Of course they wouldn’t want you roaming freely.

---

You were getting a grip on things now.

Ever since you arrived in this world, everything had been overwhelming—Soshiro’s obsession, the suffocating control, the knowledge that you weren’t supposed to be here.

But now, you were thinking. You weren’t going to be trapped forever. One way or another, you’d find a way back. For now, though… staying here wasn’t so bad.

You were surrounded by your favorite characters. The ones you had only ever seen through a screen or read about in the manga. It was surreal, almost like a dream.

A dangerous dream, but still…

You couldn’t deny the excitement that lurked beneath the fear.

For now, all you needed to do was survive.

You followed the routine they set for you. Ate when they told you to eat. Rested when they told you to rest. Answered when they asked questions. But you never gave too much away.

And when they finally let you roam, just a little, just under supervision—you took the opportunity without hesitation. Which was how you found yourself outside, breathing in the cool night air, your thoughts clearer than they had been in days.

"You shouldn’t be wandering alone."

Slowly, you turned.

Soshiro stood just a few steps away, his figure bathed in the dim glow of the hallway lights. His uniform was slightly unfastened—like he had just come from unwinding after a long day.

"I just needed some air."

"I see. Though it is interesting that out of all the places you could have gone, you ended up here."

You stiffened. "I didn’t mean to—"

"Didn’t you?" His smirk was lazy, teasing—but his eyes told a different story. "If you wanted to see me, you could have just said so."

"I wasn’t...."

"Relax, I’m joking."

You weren’t so sure.

-----

"Come in."

"What?"

Soshiro gestured toward his door, expression unreadable. "You once said you wanted to clear your head, didn’t you? What better way to do that than a conversation?"

You hesitated.

Still, you forced yourself to act normal. To nod as if this was just a casual talk.

"Alright."

Soshiro stepped aside, allowing you to enter first.

And the moment the door clicked shut behind you—

You realized you had just stepped into the lion’s den.

Soshiro’s room was surprisingly… neat.

You weren’t sure what you expected, but the space was organized. Weapons displayed on one side. Tactical reports neatly stacked on his desk. A few personal effects tucked away—nothing sentimental, but small details that made it feel lived in.

"Sit."

You glanced at him before lowering yourself onto the chair he motioned toward. Soshiro didn’t sit right away. Instead, he leaned against the desk, arms crossed, studying you.

"Now that we’re alone" he mused, "why don’t you introduce yourself properly?"

You blinked. "Properly?"

He raised a brow. "The others know you as the mysterious civilian who appeared out of nowhere." He tilted his head. "But I know better, don’t I?"

Your hands clenched slightly against your lap.

He was testing you.

Seeing how much you were willing to admit.

Fine. If playing along kept you safe, then so be it.

"My name is Y/N" you said truthfully.

No point in lying about that.

"I… I can’t explain everything. Not yet. But I do know things. Things about this world. About you."

"I knew about the kaiju attack before it happened. And I know more."

Still, he said nothing.

So you pressed on.

"That’s why I spoke up before. I didn’t want you to walk into a disaster blindly."

"So you’re looking out for me?"

"I guess you could say that."

"That’s sweet."

His voice was warm. You barely had time to react before he leaned down, just close enough.

"But you know," he murmured, "I don’t mind disasters."

"Because no matter what happens…I always get what I want."

You had hoped to see the rest of the team eventually.

If you were stuck here, you might as well take advantage of it, right?

You wanted to meet them. Kafka Hibino, especially.

But Soshiro made sure that wouldn’t happen.

"You’re still under observation" he had said smoothly when you mentioned it. "No need to trouble yourself with unnecessary interactions."

"Unnecessary?" You frowned. "But—"

"You're safer like this" he cut in, his usual smirk in place, but his tone was final.

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Your shoulders tensed as you sat back against the chair in his room, frustration bubbling in your chest. You were stuck. He wasn’t going to let you roam freely, wasn’t going to let you get close to anyone but him.

Your stomach growled, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Loudly.

Your face burned.

Soshiro raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah, I should probably—" You moved to stand, ready to finally leave this damn room—

But he stopped you with a single look.

"Stay."

"I can just—"

"I’ll bring something in for you."

"I can get my own food, you know."

Soshiro simply smiled, but there was something behind it—something firm. "I know."

That was all he said before stepping out, leaving you alone in his room.

No matter how much freedom you thought you had, it was always on his terms.

-----

After your medical checkup the next morning, you were finally allowed to walk back on your own. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

That’s when you heard it.

The rhythmic sounds of combat.

The sharp whoosh of a blade cutting through the air.

You glanced to the side and noticed the training room door was slightly open. Curiosity got the better of you.

Slowly, you peeked inside.

Soshiro was in the center of the room, moving with deadly precision. His blade sliced through the air effortlessly, his stance fluid, every strike calculated and precise.

Holy shit.

You had read about his skills. Had watched them play out before.

But seeing it in real life? It was mesmerizing.

The way his muscles tensed with each movement, the sharp glint of his blade as he executed each strike flawlessly—he made it look so easy.

You barely realized you had been staring until he finished his set, his blade lowering as he exhaled slowly.

Then—

His eyes locked onto you.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then—his smirk returned.

"Enjoying the view?"

Your face heated instantly. "I wasn’t—!"

"You were."

Before you could think of an excuse, Soshiro tilted his head toward the room.

"Come in. If you’re going to stand there gawking, you might as well do it properly."

You shouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t. But the way he was looking at you—like he was daring you to step closer—made it impossible to resist.

Soshiro hadn’t moved an inch since calling you in, but his entire presence shifted.

Again, he was studying you. You forced yourself to stand still, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered.

"Are you going to say something useful, or just keep staring?"

His eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your sudden pushback.

"Hah. Brave."

Soshiro leaned back, running a hand through his hair, the amusement in his expression only growing.

"Alright, alright. I’ll stop… for now."

You relaxed slightly.

But just as quickly, he tilted his head.

"You flinch too easily, you know."

You gritted your teeth, refusing to take the bait.

"Though," he added lazily, "I don’t mind. It’s kind of cute."

Your face burned instantly.

Before you could snap back, the door suddenly creaked open behind you. You turned just in time to see someone step inside—

And your breath caught.

"Oh—sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here."

Reno Ichikawa stood at the entrance, glancing between you and Soshiro.

"Forgot something?" Soshiro asked casually, his smirk easing into something more relaxed.

Reno nodded, stepping inside.

You barely processed their conversation.

Because holy shit.

It was Reno Ichikawa.

Standing right in front of you.

Looking just as cool as you had imagined.

Seeing Soshiro in action had been one thing, but Reno was on another level of admiration. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring.

"You’re staring again."

Soshiro’s voice was barely above a whisper, meant for you alone.

You suddenly regretted stepping into this room.

Reno, completely unaware of the tension. "I’ll be heading back now. See you around."

You barely managed to nod in return.

Then—he was gone.

And the room fell into silence again.

"I see."

"See what?"

"You have good taste."

You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or a warning.

Maybe both.

The tension in the air hadn’t faded, even after Reno left.

If anything, it felt heavier.

But you didn’t care about that right now.

There was something more important to ask.

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "Soshiro."

His smirk widened just slightly. "Hmm?"

"How did you find me?"

"Find you?" he echoed, tilting his head, pretending to think.

You clenched your fists. "I shouldn’t be here." Your voice was steadier this time, firmer. "You know that, don’t you?"

Soshiro exhaled slowly, the corner of his lips twitching—not in irritation, but in amusement. Like he was watching a small animal puffing up to look threatening.

"You’re here now, though" he said smoothly.

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s the only one that matters."

"Soshiro, I need to go back."

"Go back?" he repeated.

"I don’t belong here. You know I don’t. I—" You hesitated, forcing yourself to continue. "I don’t even know how I got here. But I do know that this isn’t where I’m supposed to be."

"You're right."

"You’re not supposed to be here." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "You came from somewhere else. Somewhere you shouldn’t have been able to cross from."

He knew.

"I heard you long before I saw you" he continued, voice quieter now. "And when I finally did see you—when that portal opened—I knew I couldn’t let you slip away."

"So you—"

"I pulled you through."

A simple confession.

Spoken so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like it hadn’t completely ripped you from your world and trapped you in his.

"Then you can send me back, right?"

Soshiro’s gaze darkened.

That had been the wrong thing to say. And you just realized that.

Your heart was pounding.

Soshiro had you trapped.

One moment, you were standing your ground, demanding answers. The next, he had moved too quickly, too smoothly—pressing forward until your back hit the wall.

Now, he was leaning over you. One hand braced beside your head, the other resting casually against his hip. His gaze flickered with amusement, but beneath that, there was something else.

"You look nervous" he mused.

"I—"

"You don’t have to be."

He leaned in. He noticed your fingers curled into fists at your sides. "Soshiro, move."

"Hmm." He tilted his head, considering. "And if I don’t?"

The door suddenly swung open.

"Vice-Captain, the Captain requires—"

The voice stopped abruptly.

You turned your head just in time to see one of the officers standing in the doorway, eyes widening at the scene before them.

Their gaze flickered between you and Soshiro, clearly piecing together what it looked like.

A knowing smirk crept onto their lips.

"Oh. Sorry to interrupt you, Vice-Captain."

And with that, they slammed the door shut again.

Your face burned. "Wait—!"

But they were already gone.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

For the first time, Soshiro looked slightly surprised. Then, he laughed.

"Well, that was unexpected."

You wanted to die.

You shoved against his chest—finally, finally making him back off. "Get off!"

Soshiro chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, relax. I’m letting you go, aren’t I?"

Your glare could have burned a hole through him.

----

You were exhausted.

The day had been too much. The conversation, the way he cornered you, the way people looked at you after the incident in the training room—

You just needed sleep.

You pulled the covers over yourself, staring at the ceiling for a moment before finally allowing yourself to drift off.

And you never noticed the door to your room creak open.

Never noticed the soft footsteps approaching your bed.

Never noticed the figure standing over you, watching.

Soshiro stood there in the dim light, hands in his pockets, gaze unreadable.

His usual smirk was absent.

Instead, he was quiet.

Watching the slow rise and fall of your chest.

Watching the way your fingers twitched slightly as you dreamed.

So fragile.

So untouchable—and yet, his.

His fingers twitched slightly, as if debating something.

Then, slowly, he reached down—

But stopped just before his fingers could brush against your skin.

"Not yet" he murmured under his breath.

And with that, he turned away.

The door clicked shut behind him.

----

The next morning, Soshiro was preparing for his mission when you found him.

You hesitated for a moment, watching as he adjusted his gloves, his expression sharp and focused. He looked cool, as always, but there was something else today—something heavier in the air.

He must have sensed your presence because he turned to you, raising a brow.

"What? Come to see me off?"

You exhaled, shifting on your feet. "Something like that."

His smirk was lazy, but his eyes studied you carefully. "Gonna miss me?"

You rolled your eyes. "I just…" You hesitated, then sighed. "I can’t say anything much, but… I hope your journey in the future is just like what you hope."

Soshiro’s smirk faltered.

You looked away. "I don’t want you to suffer. You have great people around you. I just… want things to go well for you."

You weren’t sure what you expected—another teasing remark, maybe. But when you glanced at him again, his gaze was unreadable.

"Hah."

A soft chuckle, quieter than usual.

He looked at you for a long moment before finally speaking.

"That’s a dangerous thing to say, y’know."

You frowned. "Why?"

"Because now I’m going to make sure you stay by my side long enough to see if your hope for me comes true."

"Soshiro—"

"Gotta go." He stepped past you, voice light again. "Be good while I’m gone, yeah?"

And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving you with a sinking feeling in your chest.

-----

You had spent the day at the base, finally starting to get used to things. Despite the strangeness of your situation, there were people here who were easy to talk to—people who weren’t constantly testing your every reaction.

So when you found yourself chatting with a small group of Defense Force members, you let yourself relax for once.

Laughing. Talking. Feeling normal.

A shiver ran down your spine, and you felt it before you even turned around.

The weight of his gaze.

You slowly glanced over your shoulder.

Soshiro had just returned from his mission, still in uniform, still looking as composed as ever—except for one thing.

His eyes locked directly on you.

His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen.

But you didn’t have time to process it—because in the next moment, Soshiro was moving toward you.

The conversation around you faded as his presence swallowed the space.

"Having fun?" His voice was casual, but there was something off about it.

"Soshiro—"

"You seem pretty comfortable" he murmured, glancing at the others around you.

"Should I be jealous?"

The people around you exchanged glances, sensing the sudden tension in the air.

Soshiro didn’t move closer, didn’t touch you—

But he didn’t have to.

Because the weight of his presence was enough to make your skin prickle.

You were his. And now, everyone else knew it too.

The whispers started the moment Soshiro left with you.

You didn’t have to hear them to know what they were saying.

They all thought you and Soshiro were together.

And the worst part?

You didn’t correct them.

Because deep down—

You liked it here.

At first, you had been desperate to go back, convinced that you didn’t belong in this world. But time passed. You got used to the base, the people, the feeling of being surrounded by characters you had once only known through a screen.

You had wanted to meet them, hadn’t you?

And now, you were here.

It was dangerous, sure. But so was real life. And here, you weren’t just watching anymore. You were living.

So when people assumed things about you and Soshiro

When they smirked and whispered and looked at you with knowing eyes—

You let it happen.

Until eventually, there was no need to go back.

But right now—

Right now, you had bigger problems.

Like the fact that Soshiro was mad.

And you were definitely about to see him.

You didn’t have to go far. He was already waiting for you. The door to his room was slightly open when you passed by, and before you could react—

A hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside.

The door clicked shut behind you.

Your heart jumped. "Soshiro—!"

"You’re getting too comfortable here, y’know" he murmured.

"What are you talking about?"

"You stopped trying to leave."

"You haven’t even mentioned going back."

"Well—"

"And now everyone thinks we’re together."

He tilted his head, studying your reaction.

Waiting for you to deny it.

But you didn’t.

Soshiro exhaled sharply, his grip loosening.

"I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"That you’d give in eventually. You belong here after all."

You looked away, heat creeping up your neck. "Shut up."

The room was quiet after you told him to shut up.

But unlike before, Soshiro didn’t tease you for it.

He just… looked at you.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You really aren’t trying to leave anymore, huh?"

You hesitated. "…No."

You expected him to gloat. To smirk and make some smug remark about how he’d won.

But instead—

"I should’ve let you go."

"What the heck?"

He didn’t look at you. His gaze was fixed on the floor, his expression unreadable.

"From the start," he murmured. "I should’ve let you go when I first realized you were here. Should’ve helped you find a way back."

A bitter chuckle left his lips.

"But I didn’t."

You stared at him, completely thrown off.

"I was selfish."

He finally looked up, and for the first time, you saw it.

The guilt.

"You were never supposed to be here," he admitted. "And I knew that. But I didn’t care. Because the moment I realized I wasn’t just imagining you—the moment I heard you—I couldn’t ignore it."

Your chest tightened. "Soshiro…"

"I told myself I was protecting you. That this world is dangerous and you’d need someone to keep you safe."

His voice dropped lower.

"But really? I just didn’t want to lose you."

You didn’t know what to say.

Because he was right.

He had been selfish. He had kept you here when he shouldn’t have.

But at the same time—

You had stayed. By your own choice.

"I should be asking if you resent me for that" he said quietly. "But I think I already know the answer."

"I don’t."

"Even though I trapped you here?"

"You didn’t trap me." You exhaled slowly, choosing your words carefully. "You gave me a choice. And maybe I didn’t realize it at first, but… I made my decision. I want to stay."

For a long moment, Soshiro didn’t speak.

He huffed out a small, almost breathless chuckle.

"You’re really something else."

Finally, he let his usual smirk return, though it was softer now.

"Guess that means I don’t have to feel too bad about it, huh?"

You gave him a look. "I didn’t say that."

His smirk widened just a little.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it."

For the first time in a while, Soshiro felt like he could breathe again.

If you were happy here

If you chose to stay

Then maybe… Maybe it wasn’t such a terrible thing after all.

#yandere x reader #yandere #kaiju number 8 #kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 #soshiro x reader #kn8 hoshina #kn8 x reader

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cherry-zip · 2 days ago

Text

─ 𝜗𝜚 NJM .ᐟ Pink or Revenge

› content ┆ nail tech Jaemin x fem reader, fluff ✎ word-count .ᐟ 2.6k. ⌁ summary ┆Jaemin, your flirty nail tech, did your nails last week for a Valentine's Day date with your boyfriend. Today, on Valentine's Eve, you're back for a revenge set, and Jaemin might take this as an opportunity.

✧ happy valentine's day ✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated!

The soft chime of the doorbell jingled softly as you stepped into the nail salon, the familiar faint scent of lavender and citrus wafting through the air. The serene atmosphere of the salon was always comforting, a place where you could relax and let go of the stress of the world. You smiled and waved at the receptionist, who greeted you with a warm smile, before you made your way to the back of the salon where your favorite nail tech, Jaemin, worked.

He was leaning back in his chair, inspecting what seemed like new polishes under the light with a focused look. The moment he saw you, that signature mischievous grin appeared on his face. His eyes sparkled as he took in your presence, and you could practically hear the playful tone in his voice before he even spoke.

“Well, well, look who it is. Back for another round of pampering,” Jaemin drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with playful charm. “What’s the occasion this time? Last week, you were all about pink for your hot date. Let me guess, something’s changed?”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, sitting down in the plush chair as Jaemin slid over to you. He was always so sassy, always teasing you, and it was honestly half the reason you came back so often. That, and his impeccable skills. Jaemin’s nails were always on point, and he was an artist when it came to designs. But right now, you weren’t in the mood for a cute Valentine’s Day set. No, this time, you were preparing for something else entirely.

“Well,” you started, leaning forward with a mischievous smile. “Let’s just say... I need a revenge set. I need something to take my frustration out on.”

Jaemin’s eyes narrowed slightly, intrigued, and he raised an eyebrow as he slid on his gloves. “Revenge? Oh, this sounds juicy. Do tell.”

You could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, and you couldn’t help but smirk as you launched into your story.

“So, I had a date planned for Valentine’s Day with my boyfriend right.. well ex, all sweet and cute, right? I even got my nails done by you in that cute pink set, all ready to impress.” You paused for dramatic effect, leaning back in your chair. “And then, out of nowhere, he cancels. Just like that. With no explanation. The nerve of him. He says he's too ‘busy’ to meet up, but I think he’s just playing me. He’s been doing this way more frequently these past weeks. Typical.”

Jaemin’s grin only grew wider, as if he was enjoying your drama more than he should. He pulled out a set of tools and started preparing for the manicure, but his attention was fully on you now.

You looked down at his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch. It was reassuring, but at the same time, it made your heart race a little faster than it should. Jaemin had a way of making everything feel... good. He made you feel seen. And maybe that’s why, even though you were here to get your nails done, there was something else you couldn't quite shake off. Something in the way he made you feel like the center of attention.

“Ah, now you’re speaking my language. A revenge set, huh? I can totally get behind that. But, princess,” he said, his tone turning smooth and sultry, “I think I can give you a little more than just some killer nails. How about a little bit of... a Valentine’s Day date?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “A... date? With you?”

Jaemin's eyes glinted with mischief as he nodded. “Why not? I mean, I’m already taking care of your nails, making you look fine as hell. What’s a little extra time spent with me? Plus, I know exactly how to make that boy jealous. Trust me, after one night with me, he’ll be begging for you back.”

Your pulse quickened, though you tried to play it cool. Jaemin had always been a flirt, but this was something else. His confidence was almost... irresistible.

“So, what are you thinking?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Jaemin smirked as he began removing your old nail set, his fingers brushing against your hands with practiced ease. “Well, babe, you don’t just want to get your nails done. You want to make a statement. You want him to regret ever messing with you. You need to look absolutely stunning—like you’re having the best time of your life while he's sulking at home. And then, after I finish, we’ll go out, have dinner, and show him exactly what he’s missing. I can make sure of that.” He flashed you that signature confident smile that always made your heart flutter.

You bit your lip. There was no denying the allure of Jaemin's proposal. Part of you wanted to stay mad at your ex, to make him regret what he did, but another part of you couldn't resist the idea of spending an evening with Jaemin. There was something about his playful nature and the way he made everything seem so effortless. The playful banter was one thing, but the way his eyes held yours now was different. It felt... intentional.

“And what exactly do you have in mind?” you asked, leaning in, intrigued.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart," Jaemin purred as he gently pushed your hands into a soaking bowl. “I’ve got a few ideas in mind. Something that’ll make him wish he was the one sitting across from you on Valentine’s Day. Well, let’s just say we’re going bold today. You want something dramatic, something that screams ‘I’m not your second choice.’ I’m thinking dark reds, sleek black accents, maybe a touch of gold to give it that little extra flair.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your nerves easing as you settled back in the chair. Jaemin always had that effect on you. He made you feel good, like you were special—even if it was just for the duration of your time together. “That sounds exactly like what I need.”

As he worked, the conversation shifted. He asked about your ex, about the date that never happened, and you found yourself telling him more than you thought you would. Jaemin listened intently, his sharp eyes studying your expressions and your words with a mix of amusement and understanding. He had this uncanny ability to get under your skin but in the best way possible.

Jaemin flashed a grin, his eyes twinkling. "Good choice. Trust me, when you walk out of here, no one will be able to take their eyes off you. Especially not your ex."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of him. Jaemin was right. This wasn’t just about nails anymore. It was about reclaiming your power, and your confidence. And maybe, just maybe, Jaemin was helping you see that you deserved better than the guy who had just thrown you away.

As Jaemin began preparing the base coat, you couldn't help but notice how focused he was. His movements were precise, yet fluid, his hands graceful as he worked. There was something hypnotic about the way he handled his tools, the way his fingers moved with practiced ease over your nails.

“So,” he said, leaning over you as he carefully painted your nails, “tell me, what exactly did he say when he canceled?”

You sighed dramatically. “He said he had to ‘work late,’ but I have access to his schedule. He had no meetings, nothing going on whatsoever. He was just... too lazy to go out with me.” You scoffed. “Typical again.”

Jaemin’s fingers paused mid-motion. He raised an eyebrow and gave you a sly grin. “That sounds... suspicious. Maybe he found someone else.”

“Ugh, don’t even,” you groaned, pushing back in your chair. “You’re probably right. It doesn’t help that he’s always a little too ‘friendly’ with the girls at the bar.”

“Maybe he’s not worth your time, then,” Jaemin said, his voice suddenly soft. He looked up at you, his expression more sincere now. “I get it. You wanted to feel like he was worth it. But babe, you're worth more than just looking cute. You deserve to look amazing. Like a goddess. Like someone who knows what they want and isn’t afraid to go after it. You deserve someone who treats you like a queen. Not someone who cancels on you at the last minute.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. There was a tenderness in his voice that was surprising, almost protective. You hadn’t expected it from the usually flirty Jaemin.

“You really think so?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Jaemin’s eyes softened as he nodded, the teasing grin replaced with something more genuine. “Of course. And maybe, if you’re open to it, I could be that someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was a simple comment, but coming from him, it hit differently. He’d always been a flirt, but this was more... earnest. Your mind raced, trying to process the idea of Jaemin in a different light—someone more than just your nail tech, more than just a flirt.

“Well,” you said, trying to regain your composure, “I guess I could think about it. But you know, you might be too much of a heartbreaker for me.”

Jaemin smirked, though you noticed a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “A heartbreaker, huh? I’ll have to change that then.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the way Jaemin spoke—so sure, so confident. But it wasn’t just about the nails anymore. You could hear the sincerity in his voice, the way he made you believe in yourself again. Maybe it was his words, or maybe it was just the way he looked at you. Either way, you were starting to feel something you hadn’t expected to feel—something that had nothing to do with the revenge set you came in for.

Jaemin continued working in silence for a while, his fingers moving skillfully over your nails as he carefully applied the dark red polish. The deep shade shimmered in the light, the perfect base for the black accents he added next, followed by delicate strokes of gold glitter. With every layer, you felt a sense of anticipation building within you. Jaemin was right—this wasn’t just about nails. It was about making a statement. About owning your story.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Jaemin pulled back, admiring his work. He was silent for a moment, taking in the way the deep red shimmered in the light, how the black accents were bold but not overbearing, and the gold glitter that gave it that final touch of elegance. It didn’t take long before you were admiring your hands too, completely in awe of the intricate design.

Jaemin stepped back and let out a low whistle, clearly proud of his work. “Look at you, all set for revenge. Those are some killer nails. What do you think?”

You gazed at your nails again, unable to hide your satisfaction. The colors were bold and dramatic, a mixture of deep reds, blacks, and gold accents that shimmered under the light. It was the perfect blend of sexy, fierce, and unapologetic. They weren’t just nails - they were a declaration. Exactly what you needed. “I love them,” you said, your voice full of awe. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "You really know how to make a girl feel like a queen."

"You are a queen, babe," Jaemin said, his voice sincere and warm. "And I’m just here to help you remember that."

You swallowed, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. There was no denying that Jaemin had this effect on you, this way of making you feel more than you were—more than what you had let yourself believe. You had come in here for a set of nails, but what you were walking away with was something far more valuable: a reminder of your own strength, your own beauty, your own power.

Jaemin’s grin returned, now more playful. “Told you I’ve got skills. Now, about that date...”

You took a deep breath, but you couldn’t resist the idea of Jaemin’s proposal. “Fine,” you said, deciding to give in. “Let’s go.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up, and without another word, he led you out of the salon. As you both stepped out into the cool evening air, Jaemin gave you a sly look. “You know, I’m thinking somewhere a little fancy. Something that’ll make your ex want to crawl out of his hole.”

You laughed, feeling a rush of excitement. “Oh, I’m so ready for this.”

The drive to the rooftop bar was short, but the anticipation was almost unbearable. Jaemin kept glancing at you, his eyes glinting with mischief.

When you arrived, the night sky stretched above you, the city lights twinkling like stars. The rooftop was chic and intimate, the perfect place to be seen and not noticed—if you wanted. But tonight, you were ready to be noticed. Ready to show your ex exactly what he’d lost. And Jaemin? He seemed like the perfect companion for your revenge.

He led you to a cozy corner with a view of the skyline. “This is our spot for the night,” he said, a little too smug for your liking. But you didn’t mind. There was something magnetic about him tonight, something that made you feel more alive than you had in weeks.

As Jaemin ordered the drinks, you couldn’t help but feel the chemistry between you both intensify. He’d been your nail tech, your confidant, and your flirtatious companion. But tonight, it felt like there was more to him. And maybe more to you than just the need for revenge.

The drinks arrived, and the conversation flowed easily—banter, laughter, and teasing—until Jaemin leaned in closer. “So... do you think he’s watching?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sure he is. He’s probably stalking my social media.”

Jaemin smirked, his hand grazing yours in a deliberate, slow motion. “Well, if he’s watching, I’m glad he’s seeing you with someone who knows how to treat you right.”

You didn’t know what surprised you more: the fact that Jaemin was openly admitting he was interested or the fact that you didn’t mind at all.

The night wore on, filled with laughter, drinks, and quiet moments of connection that were more intimate than you had expected. By the time you left, the first hint of dawn was breaking, casting a soft glow over the city.

Jaemin walked you to your car, his presence a comforting, warm contrast to the chilly air. “So, how’d it feel? Making him jealous?” Jaemin asked, his voice low and soft.

You smiled up at him, feeling content. “It felt... good. But honestly, I’m glad I came out with you.”

Jaemin’s smile softened, and for the first time tonight, there was no teasing in his eyes—just a quiet sincerity. “Maybe next time, it won’t be about revenge.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you realized just how much you were looking forward to what came next.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

And for the first time, you didn’t mind the idea of having someone like Jaemin in your life—revenge or not.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form

@ credits┆big thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta & proof reading ☆彡

�� a/n┆ yes, this is real. I am finally writing about Jaemin so I hope you like it

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella, @shinysobi, @kyeomofhearts, @hisnowbie2

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip" 🎀 ⋅ ˚✮

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organic-bloodbath · 2 days ago

Note

Heyyy I was wondering if I could request a little smt smt from you

I’ve just found out that National Shower with a Friend Day is today (I think its an American idk) and I was wondering if we could pretend its an international day and write a story about Kang Dae-Ho discovering it and asking his friend (reader) to shower with him 👀👀👀

Friends to lovers vibes yk

No pressure if you dont want to do this lol

Shower confessions

Dae-ho x Reader

Summary: A moment in the shower together takes a turn in your friendship.

A/N: I'm European so i had never heard of that before lmao. But i had fun writing it and i hope you have fun reading it ♡

☆☆☆

You and Dae-ho had been friends for the past 5 years. You knew everything about him and he about you – he was your best friend in your entire life. You were closer to him than with any other friend of yours, some people already thought that the two of you were dating but your friendship had always been completely platonic. Dae-ho had never implied or made it seem that there was anything romantic going on between you – or maybe you were just totally oblivious.

At the moment, Dae-ho was hanging out at your apartment, like he did almost every day. You lived only across the street from each other, so it took only couple of minutes to walk to your place. Often he'd rather come visit you or you him instead of texting or talking on the phone when you could easily come inside.

For Dae-ho, your friendship had been just platonic as well, nothing romantic, even though you would hug a lot and cuddle during movies at home. He saw you as his best friend, though during your entire friendship, he hadn't been in a relationship with any other girl. Neither had you with any other guy.

For your other friends? Everyone knew that the two of you were just in denial of your real feelings towards each other.

You were in the kitchen, cutting cucumber into pieces on a chopping board for a salad you were preparing to eat with your lunch soon.

"Y/N?" Dae-ho said by the door, making you lay the knife down on the counter and turn around.

"Hm?"

Dae-ho was unsure if he should suggest it or not, not knowing what you would think about it. He knew you were really close, but where would you draw the line?

"You heard what day it is today?" Dae-ho asked.

"Um, Friday?"

"It's the Shower with a Friend Day," he informed you. "It's pretty self-explanatory."

"Oh, really? That's a thing?" You raised your eyebrows. "Huh, I wasn't aware of that."

"Any plans tonight?"

"Well, i did plan to have a movie marathon in the evening. Where you are more than welcome as well, obviously," you told him and then smirked, putting your hand on your hip. "What, you want to shower together?"

"Well, it is an official day for that," he shrugged, trying to act all nonchalant and like he didn't really care. He wanted to make it seem like it was your idea.

"Hmm," you hummed, amused. "Well, i'm going for a run so i do need to shower tonight," you thought outloud. "And you're joining the movie marathon with me, hm? It'd be upsetting to eat all the food alone."

☆☆☆

You and Dae-ho had seen each other without clothes before. Many times when you were wearing only your bra and underwear and once or twice without any piece of clothing. You weren't worried about Dae-ho seeing your body, you weren't self-conscious and he had already seen you, though it was a couple of years ago. It wasn't a big deal - right?

After your run, you stopped by a store before going back home. You had to buy more shampoo, you had squeezed the last bit of the previous bottle. While standing by the shelves full of different brands and scents of shampoo and conditioner, for a few seconds your mind somehow wandered to one question.

What scent would Dae-ho like?

You didn't know why the question popped in your mind. Surely he didn't care what kind of shampoo you used. Your shower wasn't very large, but two people were able to use it, though there wouldn't be much space left. He would be close enough to be able to smell your hair when you were washing it. You knew he disliked coconut, atleast, but so did you.

Ugh, he wouldn't care, so it was whatever. You still chose one you hadn't used before, just to try it out.

☆☆☆

When you stepped into the shower behind the plastic curtain, joining Dae-ho already standing there, Dae-ho's gaze wandered on your bare body, but he quickly looked away when you stood in front of him and looked towards him.

You were beautiful, all of you, there was no denying in that. Seeing you without clothes on did fluster him a little but this wasn't the first time. He could see the small tattoo of a frog on your left hip, which was covered by your jeans or sweater most of the time, unless you were wearing a crop top during summer.

You turned the water on, letting it hit your head and back, leaving Dae-ho almost dry.

"Oh, right. I suppose we'll have to take turns," he said, but you grabbed his elbow and pulled him closer to you so that you were both able to get wet.

"Nah, we'll both fit," you chuckled. There was only an inch between you, but Dae-ho soon moved a step away after a moment when he had become wet enough to start washing himself.

You turned the water off as you started putting the shampoo on your hair. It was the new one you had bought from the store.

He took a small step closer to you again and for a second you were confused why he was leaning towards you, but he only grabbed his bottle of shampoo behind you over your shoulder.

"Have you changed your shampoo?" Dae-ho asked when you had rubbed enough of it all around your hair, sniffing his nose above you.

"How did you know?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. You doubted he had put attention on your hair product collection.

"It smells different than usually," he stated.

"You've smelled my hair?"

"I mean, not on purpose obviously, that'd be weird. But i do smell it every time we hug," he explained. You were shorter than him, the top of your head reaching just below his nose.

"Oh, right," you chuckled.

"I like it though," he blurted out.

"Well, i'm glad you do," you smiled, not knowing what else to respond to that.

You washed your hair and were about to start adding the conditioner, taking the pink bottle in your hand.

But then, the bottle slipped off from your hand when you were trying to squeeze a little bit of the conditioner out. It landed on the tiles right by your feet. You both looked at it and knew that there was very little room to kneel down on the floor without hitting the other person.

You and Dae-ho's gazed met.

"So, i suppose i'll have to go down to get it," you mumbled.

"I guess," he said, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "I can get it too."

"No, i'll get it," you shook your head. "Um, could you turn around for a second?"

He did as told and you kneeled down to grab the bottle, then getting back up, allowing Dae-ho to turn around again. However, you hadn't realised that as the bottle fell on the floor, it had stayed open and a little of the conditioner was spilled on the floor, making the tiles slippery.

Accidentally, you stepped right on the exact spot and slipped backwards. Dae-ho managed to grab you before you'd either hit your head on the wall or fall completely on the floor on your butt.

His hand was around your waist, your back against his chest. Sure, you had hugged him countless of times, almost daily, but you had always had your clothes on. Sure, you had seen him naked before, but you had never touched his bare skin before, besides his arms.

You were frozen on your spot, as were Dae-ho as well. You were suddenly extremely aware of every inch of his skin, his hand resting right under your breasts.

"Um," you mumbled and stood back up again, Dae-ho helping you. "Thanks."

"No problem," he stuttered. As you looked at his face, his cheeks had turned burning red.

You continued rubbing conditioner into your hair in silence, until moved to grab the body gel.

"Yeah, sure," he said and took the bottle in his hands.

"Could you rub this on my back?" you suggested. "I can't really reach all of it with my hands. You know, having this little space left to really move my arms around now."

You turned your back towards him and moved your hair over your shoulder out of the way. Dae-ho laid his hand on your left shoulder, taking it slowly across your neck to your right shoulder. His movements were so slow his touch gave you goosebumps on every spot he touched, tingles radiating all around your back.

He slowly lowered his hand towards your lower back, making sure not to miss a single area. The lower his hands wandered, the faster your heart started to race. His left hand was on your hip, fingers touching the frog tattoo, when he had reached your lower back and then he pulled his right hand away. You felt disappointment rise in your chest, wanting to have him touch you again. His other hand still rested on your hip though.

"All done," he said quietly and feeling his hot breath against your shoulder made you more aware how close he really was to you at the moment.

You stretched your neck to look at him over your shoulder, not turning your body towards him. Both of you had frozen still on your own spots, your bodies automatically pulling each other closer like magnets.

Dae-ho's heart was beating so fast it was about to burst out of his chest. He was barely able to breathe and had to concentrate on his breathing more than usual to stay calm. Being this close to you, having no distance between your bodies anymore, was making him crazy - absolutely insane.

Dae-ho wanted to know what you were thinking. He also wondered what would happen when you'd step out of the shower. Right now you were in your own intimate world which felt like being separated from the reality. It was only a shower, but having you this close to him and having this feeling inside his chest and stomach made it feel much more than just a shower – it felt almost magical.

"Could you wash my back too?" he asked quietly, breaking the thick silence lingering between you.

Your eyes were locked with each other, neither of you saying a single word in a while, only drowning into each other's eyes.

"Yeah, of course."

He turned around like you had previously, and you were now facing his back, which was a lot larger than yours. You took his body wash and started rubbing it across his shoulders and back. When you first laid your hand on his shoulder, he flinched a little.

"All done," you whispered, your hand resting on his shoulder, unable to let go. It was like your hand was suddenly glued on his skin.

Dae-ho eventually turned around to face you again, but you still kept your hand on his shoulder.

Eventually you managed to get out of your trance and turned the water back on, letting it pour on your body.

"Come on," you said and motioned him to come closer. "Hop in."

He hesitated for a moment until came to stand under the water, having barely an inch between your chests again like in the beginning. He was about to lift his hands to wash his hair, but you stopped him mid-way, putting your hand on his.

"May i?" you asked, lifting your hands to hover over both of his ears, trapping his head between your palms. He only gave you a small nod, giving you the permission to start brushing your fingers through his short hair, massaging his scalp as the water poured against his head.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. You weren't sure if you had ever examined his face this closely, seeing all the smallest details clearly. You had always thought he was handsome, one of the most good-looking men you knew.

When you were finished, Dae-ho opened his eyes and looked into your eyes. Your hands had slowly fallen on his cheeks.

"Is it too weird to kiss you right now?" he asked softly, for a moment not realising he had actually said those words outloud.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a shaky breath in, until you gathered all your courage and pulled his face closer. You pressed your lips softly on his, the water still hitting your heads.

He kissed you back immediately, resting his hands on your lower back. As your kiss deepened, and his tongue found its way inside your mouth, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Oh, wow," you breathed out when the kiss ended and bit your lip.

"Yeah," was the only thing he managed to mumble.

"Why do i think we should have done that sooner?"

"Because we should have," Dae-ho chuckled. "Why don't we get your hair washed and we can continue that somewhere... dryer?"

You chuckled and nodded. "Good idea."

He started brushing his fingers through your hair, rubbing your scalp which made you feel so good. You looked into his eyes the entire time, loving to see him look so concentrated.

Dae-ho turned off the water, and both of you stepped out of the shower.

Eventually, you had to pull away to breathe.

When you had dryed yourselves and dressed up, before Dae-ho was able to say anything, you crashed your lips on his again. Your hair was dripping water on the floor, creating a small puddle by your feet, but at the moment you didn't care. Your hands explored each other's bodies, not able to get enough of the other.

"Could i, maybe, i don't know - take you on a date this weekend?" Dae-ho asked, still nervous even though you had kissed him twice already. "A real date. Not a platonic one, you know. More than just as friends."

A smile spread on your face. "I'd like that."

He smiled widely as well.

"I hope it's somewhere dry though this time," you suggested.

"So, you're not up to go swimming?" he asked jokingly, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, i'd go anywhere with you, but for our first date i'd like to dress up a little," you said. "You know, atleast put a shirt on."

"I'll plan something," he smiled.

☆☆☆

#dae ho imagine #dae ho x reader #squid game imagine #squid game x reader #dae ho squid game #dae ho x you

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blaqcats-fics · 3 days ago

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in thanks for getting me to 100 followers, here’s a crack fic(?) that’s not to be taken literally at all.

Bruce sits at his desk in his office, staring at his bank statement. His face is blank. His eye twitches. He refreshes the page. The number doesn’t change.

BRUCE: Huh. That’s weird. I seem to be missing three million dollars.

He pulls up transaction records. Several suspicious withdrawals appear, labeled:

• “Self-Care Is Not a Crime”

• “Literally Just Vibes”

• “Tax? I Don’t Know Her”

• “For the Greater Good (Don’t Worry About It)”

Bruce sighs. He already knows who did this.

Cut to the living room. Jason is sprawled across the couch in a designer hoodie and ripped jeans, sipping a fancy iced coffee. Damian is sitting nearby, playing with a baby tiger. Dick, Tim, and Duke are casually admiring expensive new gadgets.

Bruce storms in, waving his tablet like an arrest warrant.

BRUCE: Jason!

JASON, without looking up: What’s up, king?

BRUCE: Don’t king me. Where is my money?

JASON: Whoa, okay, first of all, lower your voice. You’re really coming in with some aggressive energy right now. Maybe take a deep breath?

BRUCE: YOU STOLE THREE MILLION DOLLARS!

JASON, gasps: Stole? Bruce. That is a very harmful word. I didn’t steal it. I redirected it.

BRUCE: TO WHERE?!

JASON: Oh, you know. Places.

BRUCE, crossing arms: What places?

JASON, sipping coffee: I feel like you’re attacking me right now, and I don’t think I deserve that.

BRUCE: Jason.

JASON: Fine. I bought Damian a tiger.

BRUCE, blinking: You… what?

DAMIAN, petting the tiger cub: His name is Alexander, and he is perfect.

BRUCE: You can’t just buy a tiger and bring it in here without my permission!

DAMIAN: He also bought me a falcon.

BRUCE: A TIGER AND A FALCON?!

JASON: Oh my god, why are you freaking out? You’re a billionaire. Three million dollars is nothing to you. That’s like, what? The cost of a nice lunch in Gotham?

BRUCE: THAT’S NOT—JASON. YOU CANNOT JUST TAKE MONEY FROM ME.

JASON: Ugh. Fine. I’ll pay you back.

BRUCE: You will?

JASON: Yeah. On an emotional level. By continuing to bring joy into this household.

BRUCE: That is NOT how debt works!

JASON: Sounds like a you problem.

DICK: Yeah, Bruce, you really need to stop stressing.

TIM: You do have a lot of money.

DUKE: And Jason did get us all stuff.

DICK: He got me a custom motorcycle.

TIM: And the rarest coffee blend in the world.

DUKE: I got a brand new gaming PC with a holographic display.

DAMIAN: And my tiger is perfect.

BRUCE: I AM SURROUNDED BY CRIMINALS.

JASON: Okay, whoa. First of all? That is slander. Second, I think we should really take a moment to reflect on why you’re so mad at me when, in reality, you should be mad at the system.

BRUCE: I’m mad at you because you took my money.

JASON: Sounds like internalized capitalism, big guy.

BRUCE: Jason. Transfer the money back.

JASON, checking nails: No.

BRUCE: JASON.

JASON, sipping coffee: Bruce.

BRUCE, gritting teeth: If you do not give me back my money right now, I will personally make sure you never see another dollar again.

JASON, gasps dramatically: Wow. You would financially cut off your own son? Do you hear yourself right now? You’re being really toxic.

BRUCE: I—WHAT—HOW AM I THE BAD GUY HERE?!

JASON, leaning back, smug: Just some food for thought.

Bruce inhales sharply, looks like he’s about to explode, then just… turns and leaves. He’s too tired for this. Jason fist-bumps Damian. The others go back to admiring their new gifts.

Cut to: A Tropical Beach Resort.

Selina, Barbara, Stephanie, and Cass lounge in luxury cabanas, sipping cocktails. They are living their best lives.

SELINA, checking phone: Huh. Bruce texted me, “Jason stole three million dollars.”

BARBARA, shrugging: Sounds like a him problem.

SELINA, grinning: He also just sent “I hate this family.”

CASS, holding up phone: Jason’s new Instagram story says, “justice for me.”

STEPH, sipping drink: You know what? I don’t miss them.

The girls all clink their drinks together as the sun sets.

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dejavew · 3 days ago

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precis: some of the infinite things that levi does that will never make you question the feelings he has for you. (bulletins)

content: fluff, just simple little things that levi shows how he loves or likes you

warnings: none, except for the fact that your friends are questionable in some of them.

⁠

❥ Walks to the park was always a part of your weekly routine. It wasn’t the walk itself that made it fun for you, but it was the scene that would entertain your eyes. Watching dogs, carelessly run around fetching frisbees, and tennis balls to return them back to their owners, and seeing people enjoy their time with the small little family that you hope you’ll be gifted one day.

However, these weren’t the reasons why you came.

It was the guy with the undercut who sat right under the shade, sipping what it look like to be tea in his hand, wearing his reading glasses, and scanning the contents of his book that kept you coming back to this very park every week.

You’d walk countless times around the park over and over for at least within an hour at least but under an hour and a half at most.

It made you feel like a creep. You couldn’t stand to imagine if a stranger did what you were doing, whether a man or a woman. That thought alone gave you an unsettling feeling. However, you couldn’t help the longing feeling of him being so familiar to him.

Still, it felt wrong.

You scrunch up your face. Resisting the urge to continue on being a creep, you let out a sigh. As much as you wanted a chance with this stranger, you knew that it shouldn’t happen this way. Please, give me a sign—you begged to whoever was writing your story.

And as you pass him once again, you got your answer.

Just beside his own cup of tea that he bought from the tea shop not too far, sat another cup of tea sat right beside him. Something your eyes were heedless to catch. It’s safe to assume that he’s waiting for his partner to arrive.

Instead of making a fuss about it, you nodded your head all while you continued to walk along the path so he wouldn’t know that you were staring. You accepted that maybe this wasn’t meant to be, and so instead of turning to go around the park a couple more times, you walked towards the entrance.

“Hey miss!” A light jog can be heard behind you.

You turn around, attracted to the sound and the sound that was addressing to you.

The guy with the undercut that sat under the shade. Was now the same guy who was face to face with you—only a couple feet in front of you.

“Fuck, I thought I’d have more time to think about what I was going to say.” You catch his mutter. “My names Levi. I noticed that you’d stare at me every time you took a walk here.”

Your face burns red. “I thought it was weird. But when I saw you do nothing but stare, so I became content with it.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh when nothing was said back to him. Just you and your dumbfounded face. He didn’t know what he was doing, he wasn’t confident in his skills of flirting, but yet, he persisted. “Look, I’m not really good at this, so let me make this short and simple. I bought you tea.” He points to where he sat, and sure enough the tea was still sitting next to his.

“I know it’s not smart to take things from strangers, but there’s something about you.” If possible your face reddens even more.

“If you’re not going to talk at least take the tea. I can save it for later, and we can go back to the tea shop to get another one.” He awkwardly sticks his pretty hands out for you to take.

This could be the sign that you were looking for, and so you take a leap of faith.

You place your hands in his, and you let him guide you back under the shade.

“My name’s Y/N.”

With matching shy and goofy grins, the two of you walk back to the place where he would catch you staring, and he would stare discreetly back too.

⁠❥ Nights out with your work friends were always the one thing you looked forward for on Fridays. You don’t have to worry about working the next day, or the day after.

It seemed like everything was going as planned. A karaoke room reserved for the six of you, everyone participating in the imaginary singing contest that was being held, the winner getting an imaginary one million cash prize, and the food, as well as the booze, was filling up all your stomachs.

Until it wasn’t.

“It’s alright guys, just make sure she gets home safe, and she doesn’t throw up anymore.” Worry etches on your face, you peak into the car and your sick friend was slump over the window, with the support of your other friend—who was rubbing her back.

They all say their quick goodbyes and tell you to be safe as the uber pulls out onto the main road, along with the owner of the karaoke spot, panicking about the vomit that was marinating the floor.

You were now alone.

Just hitting 1 am in the morning, you were now aware that you were standing under lamp spots that provided very limited light.

You knew Levi would be grumpy if you woke him up. With his luck, he’d be able to get at least four hours of sleep, but you also knew he’d be upset at you if he found out if you were transporting back home all by yourself.

After a couple of minutes, conflicted in your situation, you decide to call your boyfriend, Levi.

“Hey baby. I know it’s really late, but everyone left. Is it alright if you pick me up? I’m only about ten minutes away?” You chew on your thumb, nervously.

With no reply, you took it as a sign as annoyance. “I’m sorry Levi, I know I should’ve went—“

He cuts you off mid sentence, surprising you. “You don’t have to apologize, brat.”

“I’d rather you call me to pick you up late at night, than for you to try to get home, all alone.” You hear him get out of bed, sheets dancing as he moves out of them. “Also, who are your friends? Aren’t they supposed to make sure that you get home safe?”

“One of them got sick.” You let out a sigh remembering the different emotions everyone went through. “The uber that pulled up only had four open seats left.” You explained to him.

“I thought there were six of you.” You hear his car unlock, and the car door closing a few seconds later.

“One of my coworkers left an hour ago.”

He lets out an annoyed sigh after hearing where your coworkers were. “You’re gonna stay on call until I get to you. There’s no good reason why you should be by yourself at night baby.”

“I know. If I knew that tonight was going to end up this way, I would’ve planned way more.” You kick your legs trying to busy your body.

“Or just get new friends.” He teases.

You roll your eyes, smiling. “Maybe I should.”

Somehow, his car got to you within six minutes, instead of ten.

As he rolls down the window, and you capture his pretty face, you can’t help the giddy feeling you always get when you see him.

You get into the car, and buckle up. “Have I ever told you that I love you?” Trying to hide his shy smile, he looks away and coughs.

“I’m glad that you’re with me now, and not with your inconsiderate friends.” You smile at his words knowing that that was his way of saying I love you back.

⁠❥ ”Ugh I know! I haven’t ate some in a while.”

You were engaged with a phone call with your friend. The call was at least reaching twenty minutes old, and you just so happened to be in the same room as Levi.

Who was trying to do his work.

“I think it’s been-“ You try to calculate in your head. “Two months?”

“I’ve actually been craving for it recently.” You twirl the ends of your hair standing weirdly leaning on the wall.

Ever since you walked into where Levi does his work, which was ten minutes ago, his progress had slowed due to the constant and loud replies that your friend received.

“No, I used to—“ A small object hits your shoulder. “What the hell!”

You turn to face your boyfriend, giving you looks that could kill you. “Would it hurt to keep it down. Or at least go to another room?”

“Are you okay?” Your concerned friend asks on the other side of the line.

“Hold on girl. My boyfriend wants attention from me. Give me two minutes.” You mute yourself on call.

“Yes, it would hurt if I quieted down a bit. You should know.” You reference to the time you gave him the silent treatment for not even a full five hours, and he was bothering you every second, minute, and hour.

Knowing that you weren’t wrong, he scoffs. “What were you guys talking about anyways?”

Forgetting the fact that your boyfriend threw a pen at you, you get excited immediately. “Oh this one place that sells the best pastries! I haven’t had them in a while and—"

You squint your eyes at him, thinking you caught him in his little scheme. “Actually, I was talking to my friend about this bakery not my boyfriend.”

His eyebrows slightly rise, amused, as he watches you unmute the call, bringing the conversation to your right ear, and walk out the room.

You find yourself in the kitchen now, ready to continue on the conversation, letting Levi to finish up his work.

“I’m sorry about that. My boyfriend—who doesn’t know how to have fun.” You said that loud and clear and on purpose for him to hear. “But anyways it’s these little buns called warm bears because they feel warm, as if someone was giving you a bear hug.”

You pause to hear your friend’s question. “No, I just made that up. But they’re really called warm bears.”

The next day, after a long day of work, you celebrate quietly as the keys to open up to the apartment your shared with your boyfriend.

You mindfully place your work bag where it belongs, and take your shoes off by the door, knowing how Levi gets on you for the lack of tidiness you have compared to him. You walk past the living room, and head towards the kitchen, your stomach ready to eat.

But before you could check out the fridge, a familiar looking box, with new, updated designs on them, was sitting patiently to be open. Attached was on the top was a little sticky note on it with Levi’s handwriting.

‘For you brat, Levi.’

You open the box, and there, the aroma and the sight of warm bears stare right back at you.

Unlike all the other times, it wasn’t the warm pastries that warmed you up, but rather the little act of love your boyfriend continuously pulls off.

⁠❥ You felt awkward watching your friend show PDA with her new boyfriend. Is this how they all felt when you would invite Levi to tag along? Well, it’s not like Levi was one to be into extreme PDA. Anything that involved making out, sensual eye contact, dirty innuendos, or anything that should be kept private wasn’t his thing. He could handle hand-holding, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, having you walk inside of the sideway—to put it simple, the softer kind of PDA.

You were sat at a food court sitting across your friend, trying to get some rest from the two hours of walking around the mall. What you thought was just going to be you and her, turned out a thirdwheel trip for you.

So as you watch your friend maul her boyfriend’s face off in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed.

So naturally to avoid letting your friend know that you were repulsed, even though there was no way she would notice given the fact that she had her face smushed against his, you go and text your boyfriend.

Hey babe. You desperately wait for his reply. And in an instant your phone goes off.

Hi sweetheart. You smile, completely forgetting—what you consider—live porn in front of you.

Your fingers excitedly type back, I’m really bored.

Bored? I’d be annoyed if my friend who asked me to hang out with her was making out with her boyfriend.

Confused on how he guessed right with the lack of information that you gave him, you look around the area for his figure.

Where are you? You text him, after failing to do so.

You wait for his reply, that now suddenly stopped die off. You kissed your teeth, closing the app, to scroll endlessly on social media. Eager to ignore the third wheel feeling, you wanted to see people’s stories. Unfortunately, your face cringes, seeing that the first post you see, was the same exact friend who was making out in front of you.

You let out a defeated sigh, close the app, and turn your phone off. Only to gaze off into the sidewalk wondering where your boyfriend could be.

A pair of shoes shows up in your field of vision. But too involved with your daydreaming, and your goal of avoiding at looking at your friend who was now flirting shamelessly with her boyfriend, you ignore whoever stopped in front of you.

“Are you just gonna stare off into oblivion or are you going to take my hand?” Your head snaps to Levi.

Now filling your heart up with relief, you take his hand, and stand up to greet him with a tight hug. Unlike the couple across from the two of you, you gave Levi a quick kiss on the cheek as a little thank you, and he gives a small smile.

This gets your friend and her partner to look at the two of you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was with one of my friends who wanted to buy something for their partner.” He points to his friend, you recognize them as Hange, who in return waves back with a gigantic smile. “And I just so happened to see you.”

“Perfect timing.” Your friend’s boyfriend chimes in. “That means we won’t need to get you home.”

Your friend who was a little embarrassed by his comment hits his thigh. “Babe you don’t say things like that.”

“It’s alright, we can drop her off.” She says to Levi, with a polite smile.

With a deadpan, Levi looks at the boyfriend, and it’s clear that he already made the decision that he doesn’t like him. “No it’s alright. Thanks for considering it though.” He says only to your friend.

“Just remember for future reference.” He glares at the guy next to her. “If your girlfriend was hanging out with me and Y/N. She wouldn’t need to worry about her ride bailing on her, whether you show up or not.”

Levi turns back to you, his expression now soft, and his hand grabs yours. “Let’s call it a day then darling.”

And with that, he walks off—not wasting another second talking with a guy who couldn’t even do the bare minimum—with you towards his friend, backs now turned to the couple as he whispers, “she deserves way better than that guy.”

You giggle, agreeing with his statement.

⁠❥ “I promise I’m not going to fall.”

There you stood confidently a few feet from the floor. You so stubbornly wanted to grab a book that was inconveniently stored at the very top of a bookshelf in Levi’s office. Your arms were stretched out to its maximum length, but with no use, you barely touched the base shelf that the book sat on.

“Hold on.” Only looking up at the book that was calling your name. “I can grab it I swear!” Levi was next to you, worried that you could fall at any moment.

I mean look at you. On your toes of the highest step of the stool, with one leg trying to push you to somehow go higher.

“Babe you can seriously get hurt.” His arms were angled in a way where you would fall bridal style in his arms if you were to fall.

“Let me get the damn book for you.” His words filled with stress.

He was stressed even more when he sees you, still on your toes, but now jumping like it was going to help you at all. Miraculously, it was working. You managed to swipe the book your way, and with each small jump and your hand swiping continuously, it inched towards you.

You feel a smile grow on your face, knowing that you could prove that you could do it yourself. As the book got closer to the edge, where you could grab it, you swear you felt like you could conquer the world. You were almost there!

Yes! The feeling of accomplishing something so small made you feel good.

And then you landed wrong.

Eyes now wide, pride now spilling out from you, you feel your body slowly pull towards the ground. You swipe at the air, hoping that you could grab on to something, but of course it was too late.

You were about to hit the ground.

Twenty minutes later, here you two are at the hospital getting both your injuries checked out. The whole car ride you couldn’t even look at Levi. Not because you were scared that he was going to crash into something, because he did hit his head when you landed on him. But at the fact that he was silent the whole car ride not even bothering to hum in response.

Seeing an ice pack on his head, and your foot naked—for the doctor to check out—while you sat on the hospital bed. You knew you fucked up big time.

Instead of admitting to your mistake to your concussed boyfriend, you instead let the pride sit in your chest, and wear your head high.

“Babe, why would try and catch me?”

Levi looks slowly to you, as he sits next to you on another hospital bed. The two of you looking hopelessly.

“I’m asking myself the same exact thing.” His face cringes after finishing off his sentence.

Of course now fully observing him, your pride shamefully hides somewhere in you. Feeling a bit foolish at the situation you got you and your ever so loving boyfriend in. Over a damn book too.

“Don’t give me that look.” He says. He adjusts his position, facing the ceiling, and he closes his eyes

“You look pitiful.”

Scratch that. It looks like your pride was starting to show itself again. “Alright then. As soon as I start to say my wrongs, you want to comment on how sad I look.”

He doesn’t reply for a couple of seconds. Letting his beating head calm down, and his eyes open slowly. He looks back at you, lips in a pout and your arms across your chest.

“That’s not what I meant brat.” He hisses at the sentence.

“I meant you shouldn’t apologize, because no matter what the outcome was going to be, I was going to be right beside you the whole entire time.” Again he moves his head back to face the ceiling.

“You did alright trying to get the book.” You almost laughed at his stubborn semi compliment. “But next time. Let me do it.”

“So what I'm hearing is that you’ll be there for me through any life crisis that I go through.”

“That we go through. Also getting a book is not a life crisis. But you know what is? Hearing any more talking. Now shut up.” He cringes again turning away from you.

You smile at his grumpiness.

“I love you too.” You whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

What he was able to hide from you was a big fond smile that matched yours.

In the end, whether Levi had enough or ran out of patience with you, he knew that you were made for him. Even when life threw constant obstacles at you, none of it mattered, because what truly mattered to him was the fact that he was with you to experience it all together.

As well as the next lifetime, and the next, and the next…

#levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #levi ackerman fluff #attack on titan #dejavew.levifluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons

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reccyls · 1 day ago

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The Robin Who Grazed the Reaper’s Secret Eagerly Awaits His Words (Epilogue)

My translation of Victor’s 2025 birthday story.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue (Victor’s POV)

---

Rain dripped down her hair, running across her slightly reddened cheeks and down to her lips. Every inch of that was as precious as a gemstone, because I’ve come to know Kate. Slowly, my mouth formed my next words. Kate waited for what I was going to say next with an earnest look in her eyes. As if she was straining to hear my words over the sound of the relentless rain.

Kate: -Achoo!

Victor: Huh?

Kate: Um.

That moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity was abruptly broken. Kate’s sneeze brought me back to my senses.

Kate: Uh, ah- that wasn’t–

As Kate frantically shook her head, her face reddening in embarrassment, I could not hold back my building laughter.

Victor: Ahaha!

It was loud enough to drown out the sound of the rain.

(To sneeze at such a time… it’s as if fate did that on purpose.) (...And what a relief it was.)

My true feelings that were close to escaping me were forced back down.

Victor: You’ll catch a cold if you stay out any longer.

Pretending as if nothing had happened, I tugged my coat up over Kate’s shoulders so that it covered her head as well. …So I did not have to see what expression she was making now. Kate wouldn’t be able to look up without dislodging my coat, so I extended my hand towards her.

Kate: Huh?

Victor: Shall we make a run for it?

Her small hand reached out for mine. I intertwined our fingers together tightly, so that there was no gap between them.

Victor: Let’s go!

And we began to run in the rain. I’m certain that the reason that the freezing cold rain that fell on my head still felt so pleasant was all because of Kate.

Victor: It’s been a while since I went for a run in the rain. It’s fun. Victor: I think I understand how William feels now.

As we ran I turned to look at Kate. And she nodded, but–

(She’s decided not to ask.)

There was a somewhat uncertain look in her eyes that seemed to pierce through me.

(It’d be for the best if you pretended you never noticed anything.)

Kate was earnest, and kind. I’m sure she wanted to ask how I killed that man… …What I was about to say just now. But she knew that I didn’t want to answer, and so she chose to never ask.

(You have no idea how much more that makes me adore you.)

When would be the day that I could explain everything to you? A part of me wanted to say that day would never come, but another part was saying, “Never say never”...

Kate: …I’m going to do my best.

Victor: What?

I found myself stopping where I stood, looking back at Kate’s brilliant smile.

Kate: I’m going to do my best, work as hard as I can. So that when you’re hurt, or need help, I’ll be the first person you turn to. Kate: So keep watching over me, Victor!

(Ah, that’s right.)

And now it was Kate who took the lead, and ran ahead while pulling me along with her.

(I think that someday, surely. Someday you’ll know everything there is to know about me.) (Somewhere along the way, I’ve even started to hope for it.)

The sight of Kate running forwards was dizzying in its brilliance. As if she was lit from within by an undying, unchanging radiance.

Victor: I will. Victor: Always.

…

(Where is Kate?)

The next day, after we had returned to the castle, I was searching for Kate.

Kate: The plan was a complete failure. I’m so sorry!

The door to the lounge was left slightly ajar. As I heard Kate’s voice through the gap, my feet came to a stop.

William: It wasn’t your fault. Letting that man slip away back then was my mistake.

I peered through the gap. I could see William seated on a chair, And then there was Kate, looking downcast that their plan had not worked. I knew that William had deliberately let the man who attacked Kate escape during his mission. But he would certainly not sit idly upon hearing that the man had gone after Kate.

(If I hadn’t killed that man while rescuing Kate back then…) (I’m certain an equally unfortunate end would have come to him regardless.)

Kate didn’t ask William how I killed the man, and I felt my mouth curving into a smile.

(Still not prying. Always so considerate.)

As I basked in that warm feeling, William raised his gaze.

William: Victor probably had another reason for dealing with that man, you know.

Kate: Did he?

His eyes met mine through the gap in the door. An amused smile settled on his face.

William: Who would be able to stomach having someone else lay a hand on what they consider theirs?

His grin was blatant provocation. I returned with a smile of my own, and…

Kate: Ah!

Victor: What are the two of you talking about?

Kate startled as I hugged her from behind.

William: We were just talking about you, about how our grand plan failed.

Victor: Regardless of whether things went according to your grand plan or not, knowing that the two of you wanted to celebrate my birthday makes it count as a success in my book!

And then, I looked to Kate, explaining my reason for looking for her in the first place.

Victor: But I was wondering if we could have a redo of my birthday.

Kate: A redo?

Her large eyes blinked rapidly, making her look like a startled little animal.

(Adorable…)

I met William’s gaze. After a moment, he suddenly chuckled and looked away.

William: I don’t have any interest in stealing people’s things, so feel free to do as you like.

Victor: I’ll kindly take you up on that.

Taking the stunned Kate’s hand in my own, I put on my best look. Just a little.

Victor: Kate, will you go on a date with me?

Kate: Ye– …Huh? Kate: A date!?

…

Kate still seemed bewildered as I led her to a recently-opened coffee shop.

Victor: Liam told me that Harrison recommended this cafe. Victor: Their cakes are delicious, apparently.

As Kate looked around the cutely-decorated shop, she smiled.

Kate: Thank you for bringing me here.

Victor: You’re very welcome. I’m glad I can see you look this excited, too.

(I knew this was the right choice.)

Kate still looked a little dejected, likely because she wasn’t able to properly celebrate my birthday yesterday. But I didn’t bring her here to lift her spirits. Kate looked puzzled as a cake with candles on it was brought out. I found myself smiling in response.

Victor: Maybe you might be thinking I chose this place to try and cheer you up. Victor: But I’m not kind enough for that.

(No, I’m not a kind person at all.)

Victor: I brought you here due to my own selfishness. Victor: Because I want you to celebrate my birthday again.

I had thought that just holding hands with her was enough.

(That as long as you were by my side, I would be satisfied.)

But somehow, without my notice, a desire I thought I had long-since lost had emerged once more. I wanted her to think of me. I wanted her all for myself.

Kate’s eyes curved into crescents as she beamed. Seeing how happy she looked, I made another request.

Victor: Will you sing ‘Happy Birthday’ for me?

Kate: Of course!

In high spirits, Kate jolted as she remembered something. She grasped my hand which was resting on the table.

Kate: Happy birthday, Victor. Kate: Let’s celebrate your birthday together again next year, and the year after that, and all the years after that, too.

She spoke so freely about the notion that our lives would still be woven together in the future. Unable to confirm her wish, I could only smile back at her. After Kate’s lovely singing and I had blown out the candles, perhaps she thought that this redone birthday would soon come to an end. However…

Victor: After this, we’ll head to Harrods and get you a dress.

This was only the start.

Kate: For me?

Victor: And after we pick out matching shoes and accessories for you, we’ll take a carriage to a restaurant just outside of town for dinner. Victor: And when we get back, let’s drink and chat in the lounge until midnight. Victor: You will celebrate my birthday with me, won’t you?

At my last request, Kate beamed. Her smile was like a blooming flower, and I couldn’t look away.

Kate: Of course I will!

(If someday, I find someone who will never let go of my hand…)

…Perhaps it would be her. At the gentle touch of her hand, I closed my eyes.

#ikemen villains #victor (ikevil)#my translation

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