#see all my documents (i have to have them open even if i'm not writing them i'm weird okay)

[delicateartisantrash]

Literally how it feels to discover a goldmine of incredible content

HOLY SHIT

I--

MEME

SOMEONE MADE A MEME OF MY FANFICTION I FUCKING CAN'T THIS FEELS LIKE ANOTHER LIFE MILESTONE

I AM LOVINGLY TUCKING IT NEXT TO THE OTHER TWO (2) MEMES I HAVE EARNED IN LIFE EEEEEEE TY

[hivemuthur]

Request: something with sex pollen or accidental aphrodisiacs (science experiments?). And not like dubcon. More like Viktor/Reader have unconfessed feelings and apparently one or both of them needs to be drugged and desperate for sex to get them out. Idk if it’s your thing but I’d be interested to see your take on it.

I remember the evening I got this ask. I was like yesss and my friends gave me the look, you know?

Unknown Variable

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! sex pollen, but I've managed to plot it up a bit. From warnings: unsafe sex, rough sex, lots of fluids, brief mentions of experimenting on animals. The substance here is based on how fentanyl works, sort of :') I had to make myself a loop hole for something I wanted to write for the longest time :v

word count: 4,5K

author’s note: Freaktor Nation, how we feeling? Thank you for granting me another porn-writing fiddler milestone Anon :') beautiful artist behind the cover is @petitesieste 🖤

—

Your idle hand plays with the pendant of your necklace while the other scribbles down notes from the last test. Another miss. And life goes on in pain.

Finding a medication that alleviates pain without an endless list of side effects has been Sisyphean work, to say the least. Every time you think you’re close, something immune to compromise pokes its insistent head through the crack you’ve made in the never-fully-open door to the human pain receptor map.

To be honest, your ambitions to cure pain have long been tempered. Now, it’s merely about making it less relentless—offering people who struggle with it a brief reprieve, something to make it manageable. Not that Viktor was your inspiration, but he is a constant reminder of why you should keep going when every trial eventually turns to dust.

"Why do you insist on keeping such thorough documentation of the rejected ones?" The said reminder peeks over your shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek.

You huff, masking how startled you are, and mutter, "Of all people, you shouldn’t be asking stupid questions."

"There is no such thing. Only stupid answers," he counters, eyes still glued to your notes. "It’s a very noble goal, you know, but you might have to come to terms with the fact that a complete erasure of pain may simply be impossible."

"Again. Of all people, you should not speak of the impossible, Viktor," you smile under your nose and turn your head just enough to see that he’s smiling, too. A jest.

"I'm only teasing you," he hums, reaching out to point at something on the page. "This… is not bad. Persevere, you will get there."

His fingertip lands right next to where your hand has frozen mid-writing, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his palm. For a brief moment, you allow yourself the illusion that Viktor is doing it intentionally. But the thought vanishes as soon as he straightens and clears his throat.

"I'm not sure I will continue with this one," you admit, tapping your pen against the page. "It gets rid of skeletal pain but gave my rats a headache to die for."

"Oh, no, no." Viktor shakes his head, eyes still scanning your notes. "This one, you shouldn’t abandon. Perhaps just tweak it."

"Tweak it?" You scoff, slumping back in your chair. "Do you have any idea how many times I’ve tweaked it?"

"I can only imagine," he replies with a wry smile. Then, after a beat, he leans in again, tapping a precise point on the intricate web of chemical formulas—lines and hexagons scrawled across the page. "I am no chemist, but this… just tickles the wrong part of the brain. Make it tickle the right one, and it might actually work."

It’s hard for him to mask the undertone of hope lingering in his voice. Hope that you will find the answer. Hope that your relentless pursuit of relief for those who suffer will finally bear fruit. And, if he allows himself a moment of selfishness, hope that his own pain, the dull ache that never leaves him, might one day be eased.

But there is something else, something unspoken and far less rational. Viktor has always found himself drawn to you, not just in admiration for your intellect, but in the way you work—how you lean too close to your notes, muttering under your breath, the way your fingers absently play with whatever they can find when you are deep in thought.

Since the early years at the academy, he has enjoyed working by your side more than he would ever admit. When your paths eventually diverged—yours to chemistry, his to engineering—he felt the loss more acutely than he had expected. There was pride, of course, in seeing you forge your own path, and such a noble one at that. But the empty spaces where you used to be, the missing sound of your voice arguing a point over some formula or blueprint, left a quiet ache that he did not know how to soothe.

Sometimes, when the solitude stretches long enough, he allows himself the indulgence of believing he was your inspiration. That some part of your devotion to this research, to this particular pursuit, was born from those long nights spent together over textbooks and dimly lit workbenches. But the thought is always fleeting, because minutes later, you will wave a dismissive hand at him, shooing him away to his own lab with a teasing remark, and he will remind himself that he is a fool for entertaining such notions.

It is not as though there have been no opportunities. There have been moments—unguarded, lingering occasions where it might have been easy to reach, to say something, to step beyond the line of friendship. But somehow, the time was never right. And so, this one thing, he never felt like he could touch.

You blink a few times, scrunch your eyebrows, and hum. The pen gets trapped between your teeth as you pick up the sheet and bring it close to your face, as if looking at it from a smaller distance would somehow make it clearer.

“You know, you might be right,” you finally say in a tone that suggests Viktor is never right.

A chuckle rumbles out of him. “Unthinkable,” he snorts, leaning on his cane and offering you a smug, satisfied grin.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be so pleased with yourself,” you chide, but the corner of your mouth betrays a smirk. “Thank you. I must ask you to leave me to be a genius now.”

“Ah, there it is,” he sighs dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Served my purpose, and now I’m being unceremoniously chased away.”

“Don’t sulk,” you tease, waving him off as you set the paper back down. “I’ll even put your name in teeny-tiny little scribble on the leaflet.”

“You spoil me,” he deadpans, shaking his head as he turns to leave. He pauses by the door, glancing back at you with an affectionate smirk. “Fine. Let me know how it goes.”

Before you can say, “You’ll be the first one to know,” Viktor is already gone, the door swinging shut behind him. You give yourself a moment to rub the stupid feeling of light-headedness away from your temples before setting back to work.

What was meant to be a small tweak stretches into hours. Then days. Then, after two weeks, as you stand in front of the blackboard, the realisation you hadn't anticipated settles over you. Whatever you’ve created will inevitably end the already miserable lives of your test rats. Other than that, the medication looks as ready as it will ever be.

You could wait, of course—gather a group of willing human test subjects and conduct the trial properly. But let’s face it—you’ve waited long enough. And it’s right there.

Your jaw aches from hours of clenching, your sleep has been erratic at best, and now, to top it all off, a dull pain throbs in your tooth. You could just check. Worst case? You die. And if that happens—well, you won’t care anyway, will you?

As for the side effects? Manageable. Irrelevant in the grand scheme of the doctor-patient relationship. So yes—it seems you’ve very much done it.

The sun sets at some point while you debate with yourself—to drink or not to drink. When you finally do, all your hesitation, all your pain, the aches and nagging little pokes you hadn’t even realised were there—vanish. They melt into a feeling of softness and lightness, enveloping you in a warmth that feels almost like a gentle embrace.

Your fingers flex as if testing for any lingering pain, but there is none. Even the dull pressure behind your eyes from lack of sleep has dissolved. A laugh bubbles up, unbidden, and you press your palm over your mouth, giddy with disbelief. It worked. It actually worked.

Then, just as quickly, your thoughts snap to Viktor.

You scramble for your notes, knocking over an empty vial in your haste. Ink smears as you flip through your pages, but you hardly care. Grabbing one more vial—just in case—you cork it tight and shove it into your pocket. You need him to see this. Now.

Your heartbeat pounds as you rush out, barely remembering to lock the door behind you before taking off down the corridor. The lamps lining the halls have already been lit, casting flickering pools of gold onto the stone floor. You don’t stop to enjoy it.

Viktor’s dorm is far from your lab, but somehow the jog doesn’t get you tired. On the contrary, it feel great. You reach his door and rap your knuckles against the wood, shifting on the balls of your feet with barely contained excitement.

“Viktor! Open up—I’ve done it!”

The door swings open faster than you expect, and Viktor is already halfway through a hasty, "Shh!" before you shove the stack of notes into his chest. He stumbles back a step, catching them with one hand while bracing against the doorframe with the other. His hair is tousled, his vest unbuttoned—he must have been in the middle of something, though whatever it was is immediately forgotten as he frowns down at the crumpled pages.

"What—?" he starts, but you barely hear him.

With a triumphant little flourish, you hold up the test tube between you, the liquid inside gleaming under the candlelight. “I did it,” you whisper, grinning. “It works.”

Viktor’s gaze flickers from the vial to your face, eyes narrowing. "It? You mean—?"

“If this isn’t enough evidence—” you gesture to the notes he’s still sorting through, his confusion growing by the second—“I might have secretly tried it.”

His fingers still against the parchment. His head snaps up. “…You what?” Voice pitches embarrassingly, sharp with alarm. He glares at you as if he might physically shake the confession back into your mouth, but it’s too late.

You shift your weight between your feet, the initial rush of excitement dimming just a little under his scrutiny. “I tried it,” you admit again, slower this time, watching as his grip tightens around your notes. “And it works, Viktor. No pain, not even a little. I feel…” You hesitate, trying to find the right words, then settle on, “Light. Like I’m floating.”

“That is not reassuring,” he snaps, finally stepping back to let you inside. As soon as you cross the threshold, he shuts the door with a soft but urgent click and turns on you. “You—” He exhales, dragging a hand down his face, visibly forcing himself into something calmer. “You did not even hesitate?”

“I hesitated a lot,” you counter, but that does nothing to ease the storm in his eyes. He looks down at your notes again, scanning them, flipping through pages. His brow furrows deeper with every line.

The rustling of paper sounds unbearably loud in the silence, the only noise countering it the pounding of your own heart in your ears. He says nothing, eyes scanning the pages with intense focus. He’s not just skimming—he’s memorising, cataloguing every formula, every line of documentation. His lips part once, his expression shifting from concern to consideration.

Finally, he lifts his gaze, hopeful and searching. “And the side effects?”

“Very unlikely to make an appearance. Oh, hey!” Your sentence stutters to a halt as you catch Viktor tilting the vial at his lips—and swallowing. “Have you lost your mind?”

“You said it’s safe. I trust you.” He shrugs with a grin, then his eyes flutter shut. After a moment, a quiet, breathy laugh escapes him. “I’ll be damned,” he mutters. “It does work.” As if testing a theory, he exhales deeply, then sits on the sofa and stretches his legs out experimentally. “Please, continue.”

You blink, thrown off balance, but quickly shake it off. “Uh… very unlikely,” you repeat, resuming your pacing in front of him. “Whoever prescribes the medication would have to be attracted to their patient, and vice versa, for any additional effects to take place. And they would both have to ingest it. So, you see—”

Through your excited rambling, you don’t immediately notice Viktor clearing his throat uncomfortably. You frown briefly, a strange warmth blooming in your chest, but your mouth refuses to stop moving.

Viktor speaks your name softly, trying to halt your trot. Then, again. Then, once more—his voice lifting just a notch in urgency.

You finally pause, eyes locking onto his. “Chances are… very slim,” you finish the sentence, but your voice falters into something dangerously close to a whine.

Viktor stretches his legs out stiffly, his hips jerking once as his fingers clench into the fabric of his trousers. A flush creeps up his neck, blooming across the cheeks and he exhales sharply through his nose, shifting as if trying to find relief. His chest rises and falls fast, and when he swipes a hand over his face, his lips part, damp from where he must have licked them. Another small jolt runs through him, thighs pressing together, and his knuckles go white where they grip his knees.

But above all of this, he just looks… incredibly hot. And as if the sight alone isn’t enough to nearly undo you, he speaks.

“Aphrodisiac.” Comes a low mutter of disbelief. “Brilliant, really,” he chuckles weakly, though there’s little amusement in it—only breathlessness. Brilliant, how you connected the dots. So incredibly brilliant to tickle, as he advised you, the parts of the brain that entwine both—pain and pleasure.

“But, oh… f-fuck,” Viktor stutters, a sharp inhale cutting through his words as his body betrays him. His hand twitches towards his lap before he catches himself, fingers gripping his wrist in a desperate attempt to resist. A painful cramp of lust wrenches his stomach into a knot, his entire frame tensing. “You’ve missed a variable, I’m afraid—”

You stand frozen, staring at him, torn between bolting out the door and throwing yourself at his feet. But then the realisation crashes over you, scorching hot, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your pulse slams against your ribs, your skin suddenly feverish—damp forehead, shirt clinging to your back like a parasite.

“You…” your voice wavers as you step forward, heat curling low in your stomach. “It means—” Viktor swallows hard, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, pupils blown wide. “Oh, gods,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. “You like me,” the truth spills from your lips, the weight of it sending another sharp pang of want through you.

“Immensely,” he admits, voice strained, thighs pressing together as another tremor runs through him. His face is painted in apology, but his hands reach out for you.

You take another step, closing the space between you, and his breath stutters. “Since when?”

“Always, ah—” he gasps, struggling to keep control. His fingers tighten into fists against his knees again. “You?”

Your throat is dry. “Oh… s-same,” you choke out deciding the time for embarrassment is long gone.  

His head tips back, jaw clenched, a strangled sound slipping out as he exhales. “Gods.”

And it just fucking hurts not to touch him. The pain you had so recklessly rid yourself of is back with unnatural force—aching, unrelenting—and gods help you, if you don’t rut into his lap any minute now, you’re going to die miserably.

When you get close enough, his fingers brush yours pleadingly, and the touch feels like a punch to the gut. The mere ghost of his skin against yours bends you in half, has you leaning over him, gripping the backrest of the sofa for support.

“Can I?” he asks, his hand hovering under your skirt. The sweetness of it—this man, asking permission to touch you when you’re so clearly drenched, when you’re convinced he can see the slick dripping down your thigh—makes you want to weep.

You nod desperately, breathing out a tearful, “Please.”

Viktor immediately comes to your aid, his palm swiping up the dampness on your leg before pressing flat against your cunt. The sound it makes—slick and obscene—has him gasping. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispers, bewildered.

His neglected cock aches, trapped painfully in his trousers. With the hand not already between your thighs, he fumbles with his belt, freeing himself—but to no avail. His left palm is even clumsier than the right, which now falters, frozen between your legs, his drunk mind unable to do more than one thing at a time.

Desperate for friction, you grab his wrist and rut against his palm, spreading slick all over his fingers. Viktor whines, overwhelmed by both having you and not having you where he needs you most. Then, with a sudden motion that makes you gasp, he moves your knickers aside, hooks two fingers into your cunt, and pulls you down onto his lap.

The moment you're there, you begin to slide your pussy up and down his cock, and Viktor moans—a filthy, slutty sound that has you threading your fingers through his hair, tugging his head to face you.

He looks so gorgeous you could eat him and clean your teeth with his bones. Possessed by greed, you sink your tongue into his mouth and nearly stop grinding from the sheer feeling of it. His hands—gentle, reverent—cup your cheeks, soft lips nipping at yours, his eyelashes tickle your skin when his eyes flutter shut in relief.

It had never crossed your mind to just kiss him. And oh, you’ve missed out on so much.

Because Viktor kisses like he’s been wanting you for the longest time—slow and deep, breathing in through his nose as he presses his face into yours. Close, so close you could melt into him, dissolve into liquid and flow down his throat, straight to his heart. His scent floods you, sweet on your senses and unmistakably him, nothing in particular yet everything at once.

Your hips move once more, but he doesn’t let you go. He groans into your mouth, biting down a moan when your pussy lips hug the underside of his cock, teasing the spot just beneath the head. You stay there, rubbing your clit in short, frantic movements, the sinful sounds falling between you, making you ache for more.

Desperation floods your veins, your slick coating every inch of him as you grind into the ridges of his groin, each drag of your clit sending ecstatic warmth down each of your limbs. Viktor is no better—his breath comes in ragged pants. He grips your hips unsteadily, trying and failing to guide you into something slower that he could endure.

“F-fuck… you are—” His voice trembles, his forehead falling against yours as if the weight of his pleasure is crushing. “So wet. You feel so—so good.”

You can barely reply, too lost in the heat of him, the feeling of his length dragging through your folds, the head catching just right where you swell, the sensation buzzing, building up. Still, you manage a breathy, “Your cock feels amazing,” and the whimper Viktor lets out is nothing short of wrecked.

His hands slip up your back, holding you close, his lips brushing yours as he mutters sweet, broken things—bits of words and phrases in his native tongue. You don’t understand them all, but the way he speaks them, ardent and needy, has your stomach tightening, your whole body scorched.

“Viktor, I’m—”

“I know. Please, cum. For me,” he pleads, his hands gripping you tighter as you begin to lose your rhythm. It’s there, you can already feel it creeping up your spine, twisting and prickling your skin where Viktor touches you, coaxing it out.

The heat in your belly snaps, and you cry out, trembling in his arms as your release gushes over him, soaking his cock, his thighs, pooling where your bodies meet. The wetness, the sheer warmth of you, sends him over the edge in turn.

Viktor shudders beneath you, his voice breaking on a guttural groan as his cock twitches and spills, ropes of hot cum streaking over his stomach, mixing with your slick into a sticky, messy heat between you.

Your mouth falls back to his, kissing away the sweat from his lips, your pelvis still rocking gently through the aftershocks—the slide so easy now that you feel like a whore doing it. Viktor hums when you pull his damp hair away from his forehead, his breath slowing down when he exhales a breathless chuckle. "You will kill me," he murmurs, voice hoarse and fucked-out.

"No," you whisper, nuzzling into his cheek, your body still moving against him, slow and unhurried. Like a cat rubbing against its keeper, needy and content all at once. "No, I would never. I need you."

Viktor groans softly at that, his hands tracing your sweat-slicked back before settling at your waist. "What do you need from me, sweet girl?" His voice is low, the tone suggesting that anything you ask for, he will give you.

"Please, fuck me," you breathe, pressing closer, your lips brushing against his jaw. "I feel so empty." Only now you begin to undo the buttons of your shirt and Viktor does the same, pressing your damp stomachs together. He inhales your scent from the crook of your shoulder and hums, eyes rolling back in his skull as if the words physically unravel him. His grip on you tightens briefly before he smacks your hips with both hands and says, “Get up. Please.”

Your legs nearly betray you, thighs shaking and knees weak as you try to rise from his lap, only to almost collapse back at the sight of the webs of your shared release stretching between you. It makes a sticky sound, gross and hot, and to your relief, Viktor must find it hot too—because he’s nearly fully hard again.

You don’t know if it’s the medicine or something else. You feel different now, though it definitely still holds, since Viktor gets up with ease, turns you to face the couch, and presses his fingers to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before bending you over. “Ass up, head down,” he says, a renewed lewdness in his tone.

You turn your head, catching him in the corner of your eye, and at the flicker of concern on your face, he smooths a hand along your spine and murmurs, “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” He peels the sweat-dampened shirt from your back, and you smile at your shared state of half-undress—the way no time is wasted getting fully bare, the discomfort of parting greater than the inconvenience of underwear pushed aside clumsily and trousers still pooled around his knees.

Only you know how many times you’ve pictured this exact scene. But your mind never drifted far enough to conjure exactly how wet and scorching everything would be, how your thighs would quiver in anticipation. The cushioned seat dips next to your knee as Viktor sinks down beside you, close enough that your legs touch. His cock hovers below your pussy, his hands undo your bra, then settle where your hips crease.

He rocks back and forth and tsks when you shift needily. “So impatient,” he hums, sickly sweet in your ear. “But I suppose I have your lack of restraint to thank for being here in the first place.”

A clever retort sits at the tip of your tongue, only to be punched back down when Viktor slides inside you with one smooth thrust, hitting deep. He groans, wide and loud, fingers digging into your flesh—but you don’t see his face. You barely see anything through the tears pricking your eyes, forcing you to squeeze your lids shut. Your nails bite into the couch, and your back arches to meet him, presenting your ass just as he asked.

Still tight from your last climax, you hug all of him snugly, yelping when his balls slap against your soaked lips. It’s slow, almost teasing—the way he stretches you out. He’s too busy gaping at his cock, appearing and disappearing inside you, to hear your little mewls of incoherent begging, the word please tumbling from your lips over and over with no meaning beyond desperation.

Finally, you’ve entered the realm of things he can touch. And it’s dishonourable, the way it happened—but he doesn’t care. The ability to touch you, to fuck you, quickly erases all shame as he slams into you, hard and measured, knocking moans and ragged pants from your throat. It feels better than anything he’s ever felt.

He fucks you hard and rough. Each thrust is forceful, precise, driving deep until the sound of bodies slapping against each other is all you can hear. When enough pressure builds, and he feels your walls tightening, clenching closer and closer around his cock, he fists a hand in your hair and yanks you up. A sharp cry spills from your lips, your belly presses out, and you have to brace a hand against the couch's backrest. His arm comes around your shoulders, holding your back flush against his chest. The other hand—the death of you—slides between your legs, fingers pressing ruthlessly against your clit.

No restraint, no kindness—no nice boy left in him. His teeth graze your ear before sinking into the straining flesh of your neck, his voice a ragged whisper against your skin. “Take it. Where do you want it?”

Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open as you breathe out a tired, “Inside. Please.” He bottoms out and wrenches it from you—an orgasm so violent it has you screaming silently into the ceiling of his dorm room. It’s devastating, ripping away all muscle control as your cunt seizes tight around him, milking him without mercy. Your hands tremble, knuckles whiten as you struggle to hold yourself up, trying not to slump face-first into a pillow.

It’s all too much for Viktor. He falters, his hand slipping from between your thighs. He whispers your name distantly, voice raw, and ruts upward—once, twice—before spilling inside you. Hot cum floods every crevice, thick and unrelenting, leaking out even before he pulls free.

Everything melts into one—your shared breaths, the wet warmth between you, the sluggish rhythm of your heartbeats syncing. Viktor sits back on his heels and wraps his arms around you, nosing into your neck. Leaves soft, loving pecks there, trailing from your collarbone to your temple.

“You really didn’t know?” he asks quietly, his thumb stroking your lip.

You swallow against the dryness in your throat and chuckle. “Oh, gods, no. I’d like to think I have more decency than to drug you into this.” Your face tucks into his throat as you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I have never been more pleased about someone missing a variable,” he mutters, and he’s back—himself again. His hands are gentle as they cup your cheek, swiping away your worry. His lips are sweet on yours, licking the salt from your skin. What this little mistake has just opened up for you—you have no idea. But you can’t wait to find out.

[formulakracing]

"my hero" - m.v.

pairing: social worker!reader x max verstappen

word count: idek tbh (i’m posting this on my lunch break hehe)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, max in bf mode, long distance couple, cursing here and there, mentions of mental health, mentions of mental health disorders, mentions of physical health, yada, yada, yada

a/n: i know i said i was working on requests but this idea would not leave my brain all day. i couldn't stop thinking about it so i had to write it. (it's def a little self-indulgent) i hope y'all enjoy!

"ah! there you are. i can see you now!""

a giggle bubbles up in your throat, your lips forming a wide smile, "hi baby, how are you?"

he shrugs, the image distorted for about a millisecond. he comes into frame once again, slightly pixelated. however, you can make out the sleepy grin plastered across his face, and the twinkle in his eye as he looks into the camera.

max verstappen, three time world driver’s champion, is on facetime with you, donned in nothing but a black cotton tee and his boxers. you can tell from the background that he’s in his motorhome, settled in his room.

his hair is a disheveled mess, sticking up haphazardly. he more than likely just got out of the shower, as the fabric of the tee clung to his toned frame. underneath his eyes were two faint circles, the skin slightly puffy.

yet, here he was, calling you at god knew what hour just to hear the sound of your voice.

"tired. very fucking tired."

"i can imagine so," you nod, typing along at your laptop, "what time is it there?"

he hums, leaning over his phone, "it's about eleven thirty?"

"max!" your eyes widen, "you need to get some sleep. it's qualifying tomorrow!"

"and?" he counters, arching a brow, "i wanted to hear how your day went. from your messages, it seemed like it was quite eventful."

"i'm just wrapping up my notes now," you exhale, your shoulders slumping slightly, "it was a long day."

"i can imagine my baby," he coos, settling underneath the covers, "tell me all about it."

"i can assure you being a case worker is not nearly as riveting as a formula one driver," you snort, shaking your head, "you go first."

"nope," he was not budging, his attention still fixated solely on you, "tell me about your day, and then i'll share about mine. it's only fair."

"well," you wrinkle your nose, glancing over the open document on your laptop screen, "my day started with one of my clients experiencing a small crisis. she was without food so she called me, asking if i could take her to the nearest pantry. while i was with her, another client of mine called asking if i could transport him to his appointment.

i probably could have, but he reached out to me only fifteen minutes before his appointment time. i received my new staffing form today. i have a couple of clients who are in need of housing so i had to make some calls to some local agencies."

"and how did that go?" you can't help but feel heat flourishing into your cheeks at the intrigue laced in his tone, "were you able to make some progress?"

"not really," you inhale sharply, "housing is really difficult to find right now. it's sort of like when your tires are giving out, but you need them to last a few more laps. you have to remain hopeful so that you can keep pushing."

“i like that analogy,” he fights a yawn, but continues regardless, “that’s a good one. i’m going to use that.”

“as long as you credit me,” you muse, clicking your mousepad as you finalize your note, “how was practice today?”

“so-so,” he chirps, “i missed you a lot today. thought about you nearly every second of the practice session. you’re flying out next week, right?”

you nod, shutting your laptop, “yes. i’ll be leaving wednesday evening and catching a late flight. hopefully when i land, there will be this insanely handsome dutch man waiting for me.”

“is that right?” max’s dimples appear, causing your heart to skip a beat, “i’m hoping that my good luck charm arrives safe and sound. i can’t wait to see her.”

“counting down the minutes are we?”

“you have no idea,” carefully, he plucks his phone from his makeshift stand, bringing you closer into the bed with him, “will you stay on till i fall asleep?”

at his request, there’s a tug at your heart. fuck, if only you were with him. then he would have been able to lay on you until he dozed off. his head would have been snuggled into uour collabone, your hands tangled in his hair, playing with it as his chest steadily rose and fell.

if only you were there. if only you were an influencer or a model. if only you could take work with you, dropping everything to fly all over the world. if only you weren’t separated by time zones, where you had to carefully coordinate facetime calls.

if only you weren’t long distance, then maybe you wouldn’t feel like this.

if only.

“hey,” max’s voice is merely a whisper, “are you okay?”

your lower lip trembles, tears welling up, threatening to spill over. there’s a choking sound, as you attempt to suppress a sob.

yet, it was too late. they were streaming down your cheeks now, your hands instinctively shielding your face.

“baby,” max murmurs, “what’s going on?”

“this shit sucks,” you shake your head, the words strained, “i hate that i’m not with you right now. i hate that we’re long distance. i hate that i have to stay here and—“

“but your clients need you,” his tone is delicate, “you’re the one person they can count on when everything else is going to shit. they need you like i need you. i can tell you had a long day baby, but i’m here. i’m here for you, no matter what.”

“i-i love you,” you manage to sputter out, wiping your cheeks, “i love you, max.”

“and i love you more than you’ll ever know,” in the frame, a pillow is held against his chest, “i’m even cuddling this pillow right now pretending that it’s you.”

“i can’t believe you fell in love with some plain girl from the states,” you sigh, resting your head against the couch cushion, “out of everyone in the world, you happened to fall in love with me.”

“you’re not just any girl from the states,” for a moment, you’re shocked at the firmness in his tone, “you’re my girl. it takes someone special to do what you do. you’re my hero baby. i aspire to be as strong as you.”

“i love you,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile, “am i really your hero?”

“of course,” it doesn’t even take him a second to respond, “like i said, you’re the strongest person i know. you inspire me.”

“i can’t wait to see you,” you murmur, taking note of the way his eyes were drooping, “i’ll stay on till you sleep, my love. it seems like you need it.”

“hey,” one eye opens, barely a slit, “i know this shit sucks right now, but we’ll make it. okay? one day you’ll get to come home to me and tell me all about your day rather than calling. it’ll be worth it. i promise.”

“i hope so. i love you, maxie. sleep well, my love. i’ll be there before you know it.”

“try to have a good evening,” you could barely make out the statement, as he was beginning to doze off, “just end the call when i’m asleep. i’ll message you in the morning.”

“i’ll be here,” opening your laptop, you prop it against the screen, “goodnight, maxie.”

“night, night, baby.”

as sleep takes a hold of the dutch driver, you remain on the call, opening youtube. cautiously, you click on one of your favorite videos. it’s a montage of all of max’s wins, starting from the 2016 spanish grand prix.

the video begins to play, the volume carefully adjusted so that it doesn’t wake him.

as your gaze shifts to your phone once again, you can’t help but hear his words ringing in your ears.

one day this would all be worth it.

and one day, max verstappen would be able to be with his hero.

every single day for the rest of his life.

[evegwood]

Nosferatu’s Contracts: A Linguistic Deepdive

(This is one half of a blogpost I put on my website! Read the full thing for a full list of sources and even MORE information on the contract from the 1922 film).

So I saw the new Nosferatu film the other day and while I didn't think it was all that fantastic (I loved the first half okay, calm down) the one thing that did stick out to me was the absolutely gorgeous scripts used for the contract that Thomas has to sign. Thank you to this Reddit post for sharing a picture of the entire thing:

The BEAUTIFUL red calligraphy is called Vyaz, a form of decorative Cyrillic calligraphy. In Vyaz script, letters are all joined and interwoven together to create a beautiful, ornamental typographical piece. The Wikipedia page about it is fucking pathetic but it does feature this example of text with a coloured breakdown of the individual words that comprise the piece:

Obviously this itched my language brain like crazy. The best resource I have found since to learn more about Vyaz is this full, free guide written by Viktor Pushkarev. He has also released a 254 page PDF for 25 euros called the Modern Slavic Vyaz Calligraphy Workbook and I think I'm going to have to buy it. His examples look stunning and I would love to learn more about this style of calligraphy. Thank you, Nosferatu.

The Vyaz calligraphy is only one style of writing used in that contract. The other is a completely different style of writing and, surprisingly (or not, maybe?) the best place to look for answers turned out to once again be Reddit. This commenter suggests it's another form of Cyrillic:

Here's some Glagolitic, to compare:

In a different thread, this commenter claims to have cracked it:

This commenter replies with an addition:

So that's cool! In that same thread, this commenter says that the contract looks like a Romanian hrisov, or medieval chancellery charter, and recommends this video explaining how they were written. As you can see from the example below that the commenter shared, these traditional contracts look pretty damn similar to Orlok's contract! So let's talk about them real quick, because it's interesting!

The video is by Adrian Gheorghe, a historian whose speciality is the editing and translation of all documents regarding Vlad the Impaler. He talks about how unlike letters, which would be written in Latin, these charters were written in Slavonic, a liturgical and "literary language, based on Slavic dialects of the Balkans, developed by monks in the 9th century" (X). Viktor Pushkarev suggests a book called Grammar of the Church Slavonic Language if you want to learn more about the grammar and syntax. Slavonic was often written in Glagolitic and hey, we've seen that before!

These charters also had explicit and strict structures that they adhered to. This strict standard served to not only prove the legitimacy of a document, but that "the document was drawn up with all due solemnity" (X). Interestingly, each charter would invoke God in the opening lines or would simply have a cross at the beginning, and according to the translations given above Count Orlok's contract does not seem to include this. I recommend checking out the video in its entirety to hear more about this cool bit of history.

But of course... that's not all that's written on the contract, is it? Thomas signs it, and he signs it in Kurrent script, an old traditional form of German cursive. If you'd like to learn how to write in Kurrent, there's a free guide by Margarete Mücke right here! Here's a screenshot I took of the scene along with a Kurrent alphabet for comparison:

Kurrent has a really interesting history. It evolved from gothic cursive at the beginning of the 16th century, which saw a lot of use in the medieval ages. Compared to the vast variety of gothic cursive writing styles, Kurrent was "beautiful, fast to write and comparatively legible" (X). It soon moved out of use solely in chancelleries and into everyday use, becoming more and more standardised.

This script saw a bit of a rollercoaster of popularity; in the early 1900s it was established and taught in all German schools, then steadily became seen as "antiquated and ugly", then the Nazis declared other writing scripts "Un-German" and promoted gothic typography until 1941 when Hitler declared Kurrent and its sister writing style Fraktur "to be of 'Jewish origin' and therefore taboo". More information about this can be found on this page about the history of Old German Script (another name for Kurrent).

So that's that! Count Orlok's contract is based on traditional charters of the region with set structures to highlight their legitimacy and importance as documents, using traditional scripts and handwriting of the time, and is also a style of document that is directly tied to Vlad the Impaler, the inspiration for Dracula and ultimately Nosferatu. Extremely cool and also totally makes sense considering Robert Eggers interest in authentic linguistic detail (like I didn't even mention the language that Orlok speaks throughout the film, which is Dacian, an extinct ancestor of Romanian). Lots of really tasty stuff to look at and I had a blast putting it all together.

Except.......... it's not the end. There's a whole second saga to be told about the contract from the 1922 film, and if you wanna read that (I get deep into talking occult symbols and angel languages) you're gonna have to read the original post on my site!

[yurunivo]

Hello! I'm not sure if i'm the one but can we get some more Mavuika x Creator! Reader (gender neutral) in which the creator is falling deeply in love with Mavuika and the creator is slowly getting his/hers/their memories back and awakening a little bit of power (like maybe aweking some unique element or getting better healing abilities) ?

I'm pretty sure you were the one yea. Sorry for not answering sooner I just had no motivation to write 😭

Synopsis: your time with Mavuika! (And "your" past) part 1 part 2 part 4

TW: slight angst, fluff, OOC, arguements, reader is referred to as they/them for easier use but gender is up to what you interpret as, bad writing, bad grammar, english is not my first language, slightly rushed at the end, not proofread

Characters: Mavuika x gn!creator!reader

"Please don't walk through the halls, our Archon is busy-"

"I just have a word with her, that's all."

The receptionist sighed as you glared at her and walked off. You've had a bad week, constantly getting excruciatingly painful headaches and nightmares which make you wake up in a cold sweat. What made it worse that you couldn't really remember them when you woke up, which made it all the more frustrating. That, along with the fact that your boss was giving you more work than usual was making you snappy and irritated all the time. The even more strange thing was the fact that you were seeking out Mavuika, almost as if she was a pinicle of warmth in a snowy wasteland, so you did eventually visit her.

As you reached her office door, gloved hands gently pushed it open to see her inside. Your eyes softened, and you could feel your stress slipping away. She was sleeping though, her head on a pile of documents.

"That's.. Strange. Normally she would spend a lot of time with me, did she ignore all this work just for me?" You thought to yourself. However, instead of peaking over, you decided to sit in a sofa next to her table.

Curiosity did get the better of you though.

You skipped over to her desk and found loads of papers from different nations, which was really strange considering Mavuika was more busy dealing with Natlan's problems. You picked up a few documents and read them, cringing at the insignia of the other nations.

As you kept reading, you got more confused, and certainly more angry.

"Death threats, intimidation and war threats to Natlan, and Sumeru is asking for an alliance? What the hell is going on?!" You exclaimed, not noticing how Mavuika woke up. As you were about to read more, she snatched the papers from you, and looked at you with an expression you couldn't read.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"Well I did, too bad. Now mind explaining what the hell is this?"

She didn't answer, and you felt your patience running thin. You didn't want to raise your voice at her, but the frustration of her not telling you was too much to handle. Still, you managed to control yourself, taking deep breaths.

"I'm not going to repeat myself, what is this?"

She paused, and for a moment, she contemplated whether she would tell you or not. Guilt was on her face, yet she finally told you.

"The other nations want you back for whatever reason, and they are threatening to add more to Natlan's plate by instituting a war. Sumeru is offering to help, but that's the only consolation I have," she breathed out. Your eyes softened, and your lips trembled. Seeing Mavuika like this was making you feel negative, especially since it was about you.

You picked up her hand and held it gently, but it was also firm. You didn't know what you could really do to help, considering that you were the one that they were after.

"Listen Mavuika, I am your creator, so I should have the right to know about all this, no? I may not be strong, but it's not like I'm completely useless," you held her hand against your forehead, both of you looking away from each other.

Feeling the need to lighten her pile of work, you let her go for a moment, going up to her desk and setting up the documents. You didn't look at her, nor did she look at you.

"I'll help," you spoke up.

"You don't need to."

"I insist."

She sighed, yet reluctantly went up to you to do the same. She knew that you wouldn't really change your mind, so there was really no point in arguing any further.

For the past couple of weeks, you were there to help Mavuika. You were always at her beck and call, skipping your work to help with hers. The only thing you did however was confiscate useless documents, sign the ones that she couldn't, and carry piles of work to warehouses.

As you were walking through the place, whistling to yourself, you realized that you had just passed the place that you were supposed to be in. Noticing your mistake, you ran to that place in exasperation, not noticing how a gust of wind helped you to run faster..

"Why do I keep forgetting this shit?.." You rubbed your temples, setting the box down. Looking at all the shelves, you deadpanned at the realization that the shelves were much higher than you anticipated.

"I should've brought a ladder.." You mumbled.

Then suddenly, without any explanation, a pillar of Geo helped you up, slowly rising to the shelves. The revelation almost made you scream, but you kept it in. You were really high up, and the fact that you didn't know what was happening made it even more terrifying. Was this Zhongli's doing? To taunt you before he came to hunt you again? You couldn't really tell, the only thought running in your head was how the hell would you get down.

The even stranger thing that happened was that a gust of wind separated the boxes and placed the one that you brought without you needing to use your hands. It might've been the Anemo Archon, but the fact that if it was, he would probably not help you with anything. He would most likely make you fall instead, taunting you like Zhongli. But it didn't really make any sense. How the hell would they even reach you all the way from Natlan?

As the pillar mounted you down, you were about to run to reach Mavuika, but your temperature rose uncomfortably high, which was very unusual. The sudden change made you collapse onto the ground, golden blood seeping out of your nose. You felt yourself getting light headed as you struggled to keep yourself awake.

"Not now god dammit!" You exclaimed in your head as your vision turned blank, losing your consciousness.

....

Where were you?

You held your head, groaning at the painful sensation. You got a clearer look at your surroundings, notifying you that you weren't in Natlan. No, this place was nothing like Natlan. It was more regal, the entire place being covered by intricate gold designs. You explored the place for a bit, still trying to figure out what happened.

You walked around, then suddenly, you saw a projection in front of you. Okay, it at least confirmed that you were in a dream. But when the projection finished appearing, you saw someone whom you didn't expect to see.

It was... Nahida?

"Greetings your grace," she bowed, and you just told her to stand back up.

"Kusanali? What are you doing here?" You raised an eyebrow. Seriously today was one of the most craziest days of your life, more than when you realized that you were in the Genshin world.

"I have been trying to speak with you, your grace. It was very hard, I admit, and I may or may not have caused those nightmares, I am really sorry about that." Oh, so that's why these horrible dreams happened, and why you couldn't remember them. You smiled awkwardly, knowing that you would forgive her anyway. After all, she was the first to actually help you in this world.

"What did you need to speak with me for?" You asked.

"It's about the other nations, I want to inform you that they are currently on the hunt for you, and want you back into the position of creator," she answered, and now there were even more questions in your head. What was the strange switch up for?

"But I must ask your grace, is this what you really dream of, your throne room?" She pointed at the giant throne at the back, and you quickly went to answer.

"No, I don't dream about anything like this," you replied back in confusion. Right, was this supposed to be normal?

When you turned around to ask Nahida a question again, she was gone. Was she hiding? No, she was completely gone, you couldn't feel her presence any where, almost as if she was forced out of your dream.

You looked around more and more, only to realize that there was a carbon copy of you on the throne.

They looked exactly like you, except more regal, and more intimidating than what you could ever be. However, you did notice that they were... Crying? Tears were definitely spilling out of her eyes, yet their expression stayed the same.

Yea this was weird.

You looked around again to see the Archons behind you. You flinched at the sight, however, they weren't looking at you, rather they were looking at what you could assume to be the previous creator. Their expression was one of pity, and in almost half a second, they attacked the creator. Yet that "you" didn't move a muscle, allowing them to get a hit. As you stared at the throne, there was golden blood seeping out, yet the creator was as hard as stone.

They had sealed the creator.

....

You woke up with a gasp, feeling sweaty and uncomfortable. Looking at your hands, you saw they were trembling. Your throat felt dry, way too dry for your liking. As you reached out for the nearest liquid next to you, your hands landed on a cup of tea, which you picked up and drank immediately. You calmed down a bit, reminiscing on what you just experienced.

"So that's what happened, I wonder why.." You mumbled. You finally payed attention to where you were, and saw that you were back in Mavuika's office. Huh, you didn't remember being here last.

Finally paying attention to what was next to you, you saw a tray on a stool, and some food on it. The tea you drank just now was probably from that tray.

Your eyes wandered, and it stumbled upon Mavuika. She was on a chair too, yet she was sleeping, her arms crossed. As multiple ideas went through your head, it finally clicked.

"Was she taking care of me?" You thought, yet you were too much in a trance to wake her up and ask her. Your cheeks were flushed, and you felt them getting warmer.

You wondered what this feeling was, the way your heart started beating faster and how you felt all giddy inside.

"Ah whatever, I'll figure it out soon," you muttered, oblivious to your own feelings.

Sorry I didn't include the abilities part too much, I was more focused on the creator and Mavuika's relationship 😓

[shalfeis]

a/n: hello hello! I had an idea in my head for a long time, so I decided to write this fanfic. I hope you enjoy it. (I'm sorry for possible mistakes since English isn't my native language, also it can be a little ooc Phainon).

Phainon.

Just that name makes you roll your eyes and make a displeased face. And when your friends and acquaintances start admiring him, you feel like throwing up.

Everyone loved this chrysos heir, but you were disgusted by him. He seemed to you to be too kind, too good for that to be true.

You don't understand why everyone has such high hopes for him. "He is our savior!", "Glory to Kefal, Lord Phainon has arrived! We are saved!", "We have nothing to worry about when Lord Phainon is around" and so on. Ugh.

The white-haired always strives to protect everyone he can. And what follows from this? That's right, he doesn't think about himself at all, as a result of which he gets injured and ends up in the hospital where you work. That's definitely the "savior".

You magically aren't around at times like this. Fortunately, your colleague and healer did not ask unnecessary questions and silently treated Phainon every time.

Sometimes, however, luck turned away from you, and you had to treat him through unwillingness. Either you were in an uncomfortable deathly silence, he was trying to start a conversation, but you showed by your whole appearance that you did not want to communicate with him. Or the treatment was accompanied by harsh and sarcastic comments on your part.

He always looked at you with such an uncomprehending and sincere look that you almost felt bad and ashamed of your behavior. Almost.

You try your best to avoid him and show that you hate him. Yes, you definitely hate Phainon.

Phainon is a man who strives to protect everyone. He sincerely tries to help people and protect them from suffering, which makes people reach out to him. He often hears words of gratitude addressed to him, awe and all that sort of thing, he responds to all this with a polite smile.

So why do you treat him completely differently?

He doesn't understand why you're so cold and harsh with him. Why are you avoiding him? Did he offend you in some way?

The Chrysos heir has tried to talk to you, to find out what he did wrong, countless times, but each time he was met with a harsh refusal. He sometimes even got injured on purpose just to get to your appointment, but in most cases he was met and treated by your colleague.

Phainon tried to ask your colleagues, but all he got in response was something vague. It seems like you're only acting like this with him.

The white-haired does not understand how he could have earned your hatred. He's upset that you don't even want to look at him.

He flatters himself with the hope that one day you will have a heart-to-heart talk, and he will find out what exactly is wrong with you. Maybe if he comes a little more often than usual and behaves a little more stubbornly, will you open your heart to him?

Anyway, just know that he won't let anyone hurt you. The very thought of you being hurt in any way leaves an unpleasant taste on his tongue and makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. He'll be there if you need help.

It's been a while since his last visit to the hospital, and you haven't seen much of him. You have already decided that the gods have taken pity on you and that he will finally no longer appear in your life, but it seems that you were overjoyed too soon.

Soon he began to appear in the hospital twice as often. And even if he wasn't injured, he still came. There is always a lot of work in a place like a hospital, so he extended his helping hand and helped in every possible way. Which meant that you were seeing each other much more than usual.

He became more persistent. Even if he wasn't trying to get you to talk, it was evident in his behavior and actions.

Even if you try to avoid his help when you're carrying something heavy, such as a stack of documents or a box of scrolls or medicines, he silently takes it from you and walks to the destination. No matter how much you said you could carry it yourself and you didn't need help, he just waved it off and continued doing what he was doing with a warm smile.

Now you didn't even have a chance that you could avoid him. He was almost literally everywhere. You're already seething with anger because your colleagues have decided that it would be ideal to talk all your ears about which Phainon is perfect.

But if you hate him so much, why did you stop pushing him away after a while when he gives you a helping hand? Let him carry heavy things if he wants to, it's better for me. You tried to convince yourself of that.

And no, the heartbeat quickened not from embarrassment when he lightly touched your hand with the pads of his fingers or showed such attention and care, but from disgust at how persistent and stubborn he was.

You still refused to talk to him, but you stopped pushing his help away. This small progress made Phainon incredibly happy. Maybe if he keeps it up, you'll open up.

He started giving you little trinkets that reminded him of you. And oh, how happy he was when he saw that you were wearing one of the necklaces he gave you.

His companions noticed his strange behavior and started teasing him about it, but he didn't seem to care. All that mattered to him right now was your trust. And he will do everything to preserve the fragile bond that has begun to form between you.

You really hate Phainon. You're absolutely sure of that. So why did you rush to shield him from the impact with your body? Why did you so desperately want to protect someone you also desperately hated?

Due to the heavy blow and blood loss, your vision started to darken. Your legs stopped holding you upright, causing you to collapse to the ground. Somewhere in the distance, a desperate and pain-filled scream could be heard. For some reason you were sure it was him, Phainon.

Before the darkness swallowed your consciousness, you felt someone gently hugging you to him and desperately begging you not to fall asleep. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to get some rest now.

Phainon's heart almost stopped when he saw you taking the blow that was meant for him. He didn't waste a second dealing with the remaining enemies and quickly ran towards you.

He gently picked you up and tried to bring you to your senses. He asked you so desperately and pitifully to stay conscious. He didn't care how he looked from the outside. You. That was his priority.

Therefore, when he realized that you were about to fall into the impatient hands of Thanatos, he went to your hospital with all his might. He prayed to everyone he could for you to survive. He didn't want to lose those he cared about again.

You wouldn't be in such a deplorable situation if you hadn't gone with some colleagues to help him and other soldiers.

Because of him, you've been in a deep coma for several days now. This fact alone aggravated his emotional state. He felt guilty about what had happened.

Phainon came every day and stayed in the room as long as he could, waiting for you to wake up. The silence in the room was suffocating. He still had so much to tell you, so much to do for you.

Your colleagues had to force him out of your room. They already allowed him to stay there longer than he was supposed to, due to the fact that he was a recognized hero of Okhema.

The other Chrysos Heirs couldn't cheer up Phainon, no matter what efforts they made. Neither Tribios' support, nor Mydei's peculiar encouragement, nothing. They decided to relieve him of most of his work so that he could spend more time with you. All they could do was hope that you would get out of Thanatos' hands after all.

When you finally woke up, it was a big day. Phainon couldn't hold back the storm of feelings that arose, and pressed his lips to yours. It was a long, sensual kiss that expressed all his longing for you and those unspoken feelings. That kiss contained all that immense and tender love for you.

You wanted to pull away, but for some reason your body refused to do it. You accepted defeat and returned the kiss. It seemed like forever before he pulled away from your lips and wrapped you in a warm and strong hug, not so much to hurt, but strong enough to show how bad it was for him without you.

"I thought I'd lost you. Thanks to Kefal, you're awake," there were cracks in his voice. His condition made you feel guilty for putting yourself in mortal danger.

"I'm sorry," you were tempted to say something sarcastic, but you felt that now was not the time for that.

He squeezed you a little tighter in his arms, nuzzling into your neck. Be sure that nothing like this will happen again, he will not allow this incident to happen again.

Yes, you really hate Phainon, just as much as you love him. Although maybe you didn't hate him from the very beginning, you just refused to accept it.

[scarletwinterxx]

Every second from now I'm gonna love you completely - dad jaehyun scenario

helloooo ~ maybe i've been missing jaehyun a bit more these past few days so i wrote this. if you're new here or been here for a while🤣 my first ever series i wrote was a dad jaehyun au, it's like my first born. when i wrote that i was still trying to find my writing style, all i know was i wanted to write it. so excuse my mistakes there haha but in case you haven't read it or want to re-read it, click here !!

sooo yea, i have a few more stories lined up. thank you all sooooo much for the love🤍

my x acc - niniramyeonie 😊💛

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025. Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re sitting on the couch, flipping through a book, when Jaeyoon, your husband’s carbon copy, plops down beside you with a loud sigh.

You glance at him. “What’s up, baby?”

Jaeyoon props his chin on his hands. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

You smile knowingly. “You’re always asking me something, Jaeyoon.”

He grins, then immediately launches into his first question. “If a fish gets thirsty, does it drink water?”

You blink. “Uh… technically, yes. But freshwater fish absorb water through their skin, and saltwater fish drink water through their mouths.”

Jaeyoon’s eyes widen. “Woah. So fishes are just drinking and absorbing all the time?”

You chuckle. “Pretty much.”

He nods like he’s processing something groundbreaking. Then—“Okay, next question.”

You raise an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Do clouds get tired from floating all day?”

You stare at him for a second before bursting into laughter. “Jaeyoon, where do you come up with these?”

Jaeyoon shrugs, completely serious. “I just think about them.”

You shake your head, pulling him into your arms. Your once little newborn now here having the most random conversions with but you won’t have it any other way.

“You have the biggest brain.” you mumble against his hair

Jaeyoon grins, cuddling into your side. “And I have one more question.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Last one?”

“Last one,” he promises. Then, looking up at you with those big, curious eyes, he asks

“Why do you love me so much?”

Your heart melts on the spot. You hug him even tighter, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Because you’re you, Jaeyoon. You and your sister is my heart beating outside my chest, you’re the best parts of mom and dad”

Jaeyoon sighs happily, snuggling closer. “That’s a good answer, Mom”

You smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He yawns. “Okay, I’m done asking for now.”

You smirk, stroking his hair. “For now?”

But Jaeyoon doesn’t answer—he’s already drifting off, safe and warm in your arms. And you know that tomorrow, and every day after that, there will be a million more questions.

A few hours later, the sky is darker outside. Jaehyun is sitting in his home office, fingers gliding over his laptop keyboard as he reviews a contract. It’s the weekend but he’s trying to catch up on some work after taking a family vacation. The room is quiet except for the occasional clicking of his mouse—until the door swings open without a knock.

Jaeyoon, his youngest who is now 5, marches in “Appa, what are you doing?”

Jaehyun doesn’t even look up. “Working.”

The little man who looks just like him pads closer, tilting his head. “What kind of working?”

Jaehyun sighs, glancing at his mini me. It’s like whenever he looks at his son he sees himself, something you always say is unfair but still love completely

“CEO work.”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically. “Woah. That sounds so important.”

“It is.” he chuckles at his son’s amusement at such a mundane adult thing. 

Instead of leaving, Jaeyoon clambers onto Jaehyun’s lap, making himself very comfortable. Jaehyun automatically moves his arm to keep the documents from getting messed up, but he doesn’t protest.

Jaeyoon peers at the screen. “What’s that?”

“A contract.”

“What’s a contract?”

“A business agreement.”

“What’s an agreement?”

Jaehyun sighs through a chuckle. “When two people decide on something together.”

Jaeyoon nods like that makes total sense. Then, after a beat he speaks again “Can I type?”

Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow. “Depends. Are you going to send my company into chaos?”

Jaeyoon beams. “Maybe!”

Jaehyun shakes his head but moves his laptop slightly so Jaeyoon can reach the keyboard. “Okay, go ahead.”

Jaeyoon excitedly taps a few random letters: hgfldj.

“Wow,” Jaehyun says, nodding seriously. “That’s some next-level business strategy.”

Jaeyoon grins. “I’m a CEO too now.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun leans back. “What’s your company called?”

Jaeyoon thinks for a moment, then dramatically announces, “Jaeyoon’s Snack Empire!”

Jaehyun laughs. “Sounds like a profitable business.”

“Yep. We sell ice cream, barbecue and cookies.”

“Smart.” Jaehyun grins. “I’d invest.”

Jaeyoon gasps. “Really?”

“But I want 50% of the company.”

Jaeyoon narrows his eyes. “Appa, that’s too much!”

Jaehyun smirks “Negotiation. That’s part of being a CEO too.”

Jaeyoon groans dramatically, sliding off Jaehyun’s lap and climbing onto his desk instead. “This is so hard.”

Jaehyun just chuckles, adjusting his laptop. “Welcome to my world, buddy.”

Jaeyoon sighs but doesn’t leave, now playing with a paperweight on the desk. Jaehyun lets him, continuing to work as his little boy fidgets and chats about everything. And even though Jaehyun is busy, he doesn’t mind at all because no matter how important his work is—his little CEO-in-training will always be more important.

Chaeyoon bursts through the front door, kicking off her sneakers without much care. Her backpack slides off her shoulder as she yells, “Mom! You won’t believe what happened today!”

You glance up from the kitchen counter, where you’re slicing fruit for Jaeyoon’s afternoon snack. Your five-year-old son is sitting on a stool, swinging his legs while munching on a cookie.

“What happened, sweetheart?” you ask, wiping your hands on a towel.

Chaeyoon drops her backpack with a thud, walking over with wide eyes, as if she’s about to share the most shocking news of the year. “A boy—Mom, a boy—asked me to get ice cream with him after school.”

You blink, taking a second to process. “Oh?”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically beside you. “Noona, are you getting married?!”

Chaeyoon groans. “Jaeyoon, no! It’s just ice cream!”

You bite back a smile, setting the knife down. “So, who is this boy?” you ask, keeping your tone light

Chaeyoon sighs, pushing her hair back. “His name is Minho. He’s in my class. We sit next to each other in science, and I guess we’re kinda friends?” She pauses, then adds, “But I didn’t say yes yet.”

“Why not?” you ask curiously.

She frowns. “I dunno. It felt... weird?”

Jaeyoon leans closer, eyes shining. “Did he say you’re pretty?”

Chaeyoon glares at him. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

You chuckle, running a hand through her hair despite her protests. “Well, I think it’s sweet that he asked. Do you want to go?”

She hesitates. “Maybe? But also... I don’t know what Dad would say.”

Ah. There it is.

Jaehyun, your loving but sometimes very overprotective husband, has always been a little sensitive when it comes to his little girl growing up.

And you can already imagine his reaction.

You smile, wiping your hands on a dish towel as you watch your daughter shift nervously. “Well,” you say casually, “if you want to go, then you can tell your dad. I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

Chaeyoon’s eyes widen in pure betrayal. “Mom!”

Jaeyoon giggles beside you. “Appa is gonna explode!”

You laugh, ruffling your son’s hair before turning back to Chaeyoon. “Sweetheart, your dad never says no to you. If you tell him, I bet he’ll—” you pause, thinking of Jaehyun’s usual soft spot for his kids, “—well, I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

The truth is, even you aren’t entirely sure how Jaehyun will react to this one. He can’t say no when Chaeyoon asks for another bedtime story or when Jaeyoon wants to sleep in your bed after a nightmare. He folds instantly when they give him their puppy-dog eyes.

But this? His little girl being asked out for ice cream by a boy? This might be the one thing that actually shakes him.

Chaeyoon huffs, crossing her arms. “You just want to see what he says.”

You grin, leaning on the counter. “Maybe a little.”

Jaeyoon claps excitedly. “I wanna tell Appa! I wanna see his face!”

Chaeyoon groans, but she’s laughing, too. “I should just say no and avoid this whole thing.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what you want?”

She hesitates, then sighs. “No. I think I wanna go.”

“Then you should tell your dad,” you say simply, enjoying this way more than you should

Just as you say that, the front door opens, and Jaehyun walks in, loosening his tie with one hand. “I’m home,” he calls out, his voice warm but tired from the workday.

Jaeyoon immediately jumps down from his stool and runs to him. “Appa! Noona has big news!”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Chaeyoon groans again. “Jaeyoon!”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of them before his eyes land on you. “Big news?” he repeats, stepping further inside.

You give Chaeyoon a small smile. “Go on, sweetheart. Tell him.”

And as she shifts nervously, you watch Jaehyun. He’s completely unaware that his world is about to be shaken.

Jaehyun’s brows furrow slightly as he looks at Chaeyoon. “What’s going on?”

Chaeyoon groans, shifting on her feet. “Ugh, this is so embarrassing…” She glances at you for help, but you simply smile and motion for her to go on.

Jaeyoon, impatient as ever, blurts out, “A boy asked Noona to eat ice cream with him!”

Silence.

Jaehyun blinks. Once. Twice.

Then, very slowly, he turns to Chaeyoon. “What?”

Chaeyoon groans again, covering her face. “Ugh, I knew this was going to be a thing.”

Jaehyun stays completely still, processing. You watch as his jaw tenses ever so slightly, and you swear you see his fingers twitch like he’s fighting the urge to tighten his tie again. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying this.

Jaehyun clears his throat. “So… a boy.”

Chaeyoon nods reluctantly.

Jaehyun continues, “And he asked you to get ice cream?”

Another slow nod. Jaehyun blinks again, still looking like his brain is buffering. Then, he shifts his gaze to you, as if asking for backup.

You shrug innocently. “I told her if she wants to go, she should ask you.”

His eyes narrow slightly. He knows exactly what you’re doing.

Jaeyoon tugs at Jaehyun’s sleeve. “Appa, are you okay? Your face looks weird.”

Jaehyun exhales slowly, rubbing a hand down his face. Then, after a long pause, he looks at Chaeyoon again. “Who is this boy?”

“Minho,” she mutters.

“Minho,” Jaehyun repeats, like he’s committing the name to memory for later investigation. “How old is he?”

“He’s in my class, Dad.”

Jaehyun nods, still processing. Then, in a very calm but very careful voice, he asks, “And why does he want to take you out for ice cream?”

Chaeyoon shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe because we’re friends? And he likes ice cream?”

Jaehyun exhales again, then finally looks at you. Help me, his eyes plead.

But you just smile sweetly. “So? Can she go?”

His lips part like he wants to say no. You know he wants to say no. But this is Chaeyoon, his baby girl. The same baby girl who used to sit on his lap and call him her prince. The same one who still kisses his cheek before bed. And as much as he wants to protest, Jaehyun has never been able to say no to her.

He sighs, finally dropping his shoulders. “Is he coming here?”

Chaeyoon shakes her head. “We were just gonna meet there after school.”

Jaehyun nods slowly. “Fine. But—” he raises a finger, his CEO voice slipping through, “—I want to meet him first.”

Chaeyoon groans but smiles. “I knew you were gonna say that.”

Jaeyoon pumps his fists. “Noona’s going on a date!”

“It’s not a date!”

Jaehyun mutters under his breath, “It better not be.”

And as you watch him struggle between being a protective dad and trying to respect Chaeyoon’s growing independence, you can’t help but laugh.

Jaehyun shoots you a look. “You set me up.”

You grin. “Maybe a little.”

Later that night, after the kids are asleep, you and Jaehyun finally crawl into bed. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the walls.

Jaehyun lets out a deep sigh as he sinks into the mattress, rubbing a hand down his face. “Today was… a lot.”

You chuckle, turning to your side to face him. “Oh, you mean finding out your baby girl is growing up and might actually hang out with a boy?”

Jaehyun groans dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh, scooting closer and resting your head against his shoulder. “You survived.”

“Barely,” he mutters.

You trail a finger along his arm, feeling the tension still lingering in his muscles. “You know, you are going to have to deal with this eventually. She’s not always going to be your little girl.”

Jaehyun removes his arm from his face, turning his head to look at you. “She’ll always be my little girl.”

You smile softly. “I know, but she’s also getting older. And you can’t scare away every boy who looks at her.”

He smirks. “Wanna bet?”

You laugh, swatting at his arm. “Jae”

He sighs again, rolling onto his side so he’s facing you. “I just… I know she’s smart, and I trust her. But the thought of some boy liking her—of her liking him back—it makes me insane.”

You gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Because you don’t want to let her go.”

Jaehyun exhales, his eyes softening. “Yeah.”

You press a kiss to his forehead. “You don’t have to. She’ll always need you, just in different ways.”

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “You always know what to say.”

You grin. “That’s why you married me.”

Jaehyun chuckles, his grip tightening slightly. “One day, some boy is going to look at Chaeyoon the way I look at you.”

Your heart warms at his words, but you also see the slight panic in his eyes. You press your palm against his cheek, making him meet your gaze. “And when that day comes, you’ll be okay. Because you’ve shown her what real love looks like.”

He stares at you for a moment before exhaling and burying his face in your neck. “You’re too good at this.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I just know my husband.”

Jaehyun hums against your skin. “Remind me to keep Jaeyoon small forever. I can’t handle two of them growing up.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Good luck with that.”

He tightens his hold around you, as if holding onto this moment—onto you, onto the family you’ve built together. And even though you know he’ll always be a little overprotective, a little reluctant to let go, you also know that no matter what, Jaehyun will always, always be the best dad to your kids.

You’re still wrapped up in Jaehyun’s arms, the warmth of his body keeping you perfectly comfortable, when you suddenly feel something or someone climbing onto the bed.

A small hand pats your cheek. “Mom.”

You groan softly, burying your face into Jaehyun’s chest. “Mm… too early, baby.”

Jaeyoon isn’t deterred. He pats your cheek again, more insistent this time. “Mom. Appa.”

Jaehyun grumbles lowly, his grip on you tightening as he tries to stay asleep. “Five more minutes, buddy.”

Jaeyoon ignores him completely. “Noona is going on a date today.”

Both you and Jaehyun immediately open your eyes.

Jaehyun sits up so fast that Jaeyoon nearly topples over. “It’s not a date!” he says, voice still groggy but fully alert now.

Jaeyoon giggles, climbing onto his lap. “But Appa, they’re getting ice cream.”

Jaehyun exhales, running a hand down his face. “Why does this feel worse when you say it like that?”

You stifle a laugh, sitting up as well. “Sweetheart, did you come in here just to remind us?”

Jaeyoon nods enthusiastically. “Uh-huh. And also because I’m hungry.”

Jaehyun groans, flopping back onto the bed. “This family is going to be the death of me.”

You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning to Jaeyoon. “Alright, let’s get you some breakfast.”

Jaeyoon claps happily and slides off the bed. But before he leaves, he turns to Jaehyun with a mischievous grin. “Appa, what if Noona kisses Minho?”

Jaehyun sits up again. “That’s not happening!”

Jaeyoon giggles and sprints out of the room before Jaehyun can say anything else.

You shake your head, laughing as you reach for Jaehyun’s hand. “You okay, babe?”

He groans, throwing himself back onto the pillows. “No. I need coffee. And maybe therapy.”

You chuckle, tugging him up. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get through today first.”

Jaehyun sighs dramatically, but when he looks at you, there’s warmth in his eyes. “Only because you’re here.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “Always.”

Later after school, you’re in the living room with Jaeyoon who’s sprawled out on the floor, coloring in his favorite book. He hums a little tune as he draws, completely unbothered by the fact that his Noona isn’t home yet.

You, on the other hand, are very aware of the time. Not because you’re worried but because you know who will be. Right on cue, the front door opens. Jaehyun steps inside, immediately loosening his tie and checking his watch. Again.

You don’t even get the chance to greet him before he says, “What time did you say Chaeyoon was coming home?”

You smirk. “I didn’t say.”

Jaehyun lets out a long sigh, kicking off his shoes. “It’s already past five.”

Jaeyoon looks up from his coloring. “Appa, you checked your watch like a hundred times.”

Jaehyun ignores him, turning to you instead. “Have you heard from her?”

You shake your head, amused. “She texted when she left school. She’s probably still with Minho.”

Jaehyun visibly clenches his jaw. “Still?”

You chuckle, patting the couch beside you. “Babe, relax.”

Jaehyun does not relax. Instead, he pulls out his phone, scrolling as if that will somehow make Chaeyoon text faster. “I should’ve picked her up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And then what? Sat between them at the ice cream shop?”

Jaeyoon bursts into giggles. “Appa would’ve stared at Minho like this.” He scrunches up his face, narrowing his eyes into an intense glare.

You laugh. “That’s exactly how he’d look.”

Jaehyun groans, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t funny.”

You reach over, tugging him down to sit beside you. “It’s a little funny.”

Jaehyun grumbles but lets you pull him close. He leans back against the couch, checking his watch again.

“She’ll be home soon,” you assure him. “And when she gets here, you can interrogate her all you want.”

Jaeyoon gasps dramatically. “Appa’s gonna use his CEO voice!”

Jaehyun huffs. “I am not.”

Jaeyoon grins. “Are too.”

Jaehyun doesn’t argue because maybe he is. Just a little. Just as Jaehyun is admiring Jaeyoon’s latest masterpiece, a crayon drawing of your family with an extra large version of himself. There’s the sound of the front door unlocking.

Jaehyun immediately checks his watch again.

You smirk. “See? She’s home at a perfectly reasonable time.” Jaehyun doesn’t respond. Instead, he stands up, crosses his arms, and waits.

Chaeyoon steps inside, setting her backpack down before kicking off her shoes. “I’m home!” she calls out casually.

Jaeyoon runs up to her, arms flailing. “Noona! Did you have your date?”

Chaeyoon groans. “It wasn’t a date, Jaeyoon.”

Jaehyun clears his throat. Loudly. Chaeyoon turns her head and there’s her dad. Standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, looking exactly how she expected him to.

She sighs, dragging her feet toward the couch. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Get what over with?”

“The interrogation.” She plops onto the couch, throwing her arms over the backrest. “Go ahead, Appa. Ask your many questions.”

Jaehyun doesn’t waste a second. “How long have you known him?”

“Like a year, we’re classmates”

“Why haven’t I heard about him before?”

She sighs. “Because you’re like this.”

Jaehyun ignores that. “Does he have good grades?”

Chaeyoon blinks. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I need to know if he’s responsible.”

Chaeyoon groans. “Yes, Appa, he has good grades.”

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. “What did you talk about?”

“Ice cream. School. Normal stuff.”

“Did he—” Jaehyun’s expression turns even more serious. “—hold the door for you?”

Chaeyoon stares. “…Yes?”

Jaehyun exhales, nodding slowly. “Okay. That’s a start.”

You shake your head, fully entertained by this. Jaeyoon climbs onto the couch beside Chaeyoon. “Did you hold hands?”

Jaehyun immediately looks at her.

Chaeyoon gags. “EW. No.”

Jaehyun nods approvingly. “Good.”

Chaeyoon groans again. “Ugh, Appa, you’re so dramatic. It was just ice cream.”

Jaehyun eyes her for a moment before finally sighing, sitting down beside her. His posture softens a little. “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Chaeyoon leans against him with a small smile. “I know. And I promise, Minho is just a friend.”

Jaehyun lets out another deep breath, wrapping an arm around her. “Okay. But next time, I want to meet him.”

Chaeyoon pulls away, eyes wide. “Appa. No.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “I need to make sure he understands that you have a very intimidating father.”

Chaeyoon groans dramatically, flopping onto the couch. “You’re impossible.”

Jaeyoon grins, climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap. “Appa, when I get a girlfriend, you can meet her, okay?”

Jaehyun blinks. “What?”

You burst out laughing as Jaehyun looks like he’s about to have an entire crisis.

Chaeyoon smirks. “Yeah, Appa. You have two kids to worry about.”

Jaehyun groans, rubbing his temples. “I need another coffee.”

And as the kids giggle, and you lean into him with an affectionate smile, you realize you wouldn’t trade this chaotic, loving family for anything.

The call from Jaeyoon’s school comes in the middle of the afternoon. You answer, and the moment you hear the words "Jaeyoon had a little accident during an activity," your heart skips a beat. The teacher quickly reassures you that he’s okay ust a scraped knee and a little bump but you’re already grabbing your bag.

Jaehyun, who had just gotten home early from a meeting, notices the shift in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

You exhale. “Jaeyoon tripped at school. He’s hurt, but they said it’s not too bad.”

Jaehyun’s face hardens. “Let’s go.”

Within minutes, the two of you are in the car, driving to the school. Jaehyun grips the steering wheel tightly, jaw clenched. He doesn’t say much, but you can tell his mind is racing.

When you arrive at the nurse’s office, Jaeyoon is sitting on the little cot, his legs swinging as he stares down at his bandaged knee. His face is scrunched up in frustration. The moment he sees the both of you, his lips press together in a thin line, and he immediately sits up straighter.

“Hey, buddy,” Jaehyun says softly, crouching down to his level. “What happened?”

Jaeyoon crosses his arms. “I tripped during the race.” His voice is a little wobbly, but he clears his throat, blinking rapidly. “But I’m okay. I didn’t cry.”

You exchange a glance with Jaehyun before sitting beside Jaeyoon. “It’s okay if you want to, sweetheart.”

Jaeyoon shakes his head stubbornly. “Big boys don’t cry.”

Jaehyun sighs, reaching out to pull Jaeyoon into his arms. And the moment he does, Jaeyoon completely melts  He buries his face in Jaehyun’s chest, his small fingers gripping onto his father’s shirt. A choked little sob escapes him, and then, suddenly, he’s really crying.

Jaehyun just holds him tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head. “It’s okay, buddy. You can cry.”

Jaeyoon sniffles, his tiny shoulders trembling. “I tried so hard, Appa.”

“I know,” Jaehyun whispers, rubbing his back. “And you’re still the bravest boy I know.”

Jaeyoon clings to him, sobbing softly. Jaehyun doesn’t rush him, doesn’t tell him to stop he just lets him feel everything, lets him be small in this moment.

You stroke Jaeyoon’s hair gently. “You know… being strong doesn’t mean not crying. It means getting back up even when you’re hurt.”

Jaeyoon sniffles, pulling back slightly to look up at Jaehyun. “Really?”

Jaehyun nods, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. “Really. And you did get back up, didn’t you?”

Jaeyoon nods hesitantly. “Yeah…”

Jaehyun smiles, kissing the top of his head. “Then you’re the strongest boy I know.”

Jaeyoon lets out a little hiccup, then slowly finally smiles. “Okay.”

You and Jaehyun exchange a soft look, hearts swelling with love for your little boy.

And as Jaehyun lifts Jaeyoon into his arms, holding him close all the way to the car, you know no matter how big he gets, Jaeyoon will always have a place to feel safe.

The drive home is peaceful, the soft hum of the car engine filling the quiet night. Jaeyoon and Chaeyoon are completely knocked out in the backseat, their heads tilted at awkward angles, mouths slightly open.

Jaehyun glances at them through the rearview mirror and smirks. “Didn’t even last five minutes.”

You chuckle, watching Jaeyoon’s little chest rise and fall steadily. “I knew Jaeyoon would fall asleep fast, but Chaeyoon too? She must’ve been really full.”

Jaehyun shakes his head fondly. “She tried to act like she wasn’t, but I saw her struggling with that last piece of meat.”

You laugh softly, resting your head against the car window. The streetlights blur past, casting a warm glow over the quiet city. The moment feels so calm—just the two of you, with your babies fast asleep in the back.

Jaehyun exhales, one hand still on the wheel, the other casually resting on his lap. “Feels like just yesterday they were tiny.”

You smile, your heart swelling at the memories. “I know… Remember when Chaeyoon was born? We had no idea what we were doing.”

Jaehyun lets out a low chuckle. “You figured things out fast. I was freaking out every five seconds.”

“You were not.”

“I was.” He shakes his head, eyes still on the road. “I was scared to even hold her at first. She was so small.”

You glance back at your daughter, now twelve, long legs curled up on the seat. “She’s not so small anymore.”

Jaehyun sighs. “No, she’s not.”

There’s a beat of silence before he smiles softly. “Jaeyoon, though… That boy came into this world yelling.”

You laugh, covering your mouth to keep quiet. “Oh, God, he was so loud. The nurse literally said, ‘Wow, this one has a lot to say.’”

Jaehyun grins. “And she was right. He hasn’t stopped talking since.”

You sigh, glancing out the window. “Sometimes I wish we could go back. Just for a little while. Hold them when they were tiny again.”

Jaehyun reaches over, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “I know.” His voice is soft, full of understanding. “But we’re still here. Still watching them grow.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his. “And freaking out over ice cream dates.”

Jaehyun groans, tilting his head back. “Don’t remind me.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “You’ll survive, babe.”

He glances at you with a smirk. “Will I?”

You grin, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Of course.”

Jaehyun chuckles, eyes crinkling as he pulls into your driveway. “As long as I have you.”

And as you sit there, watching your babies sleep peacefully in the backseat, you realize—these moments, the quiet ones, the ordinary ones—are the ones that make life so beautiful.

[paleprincessturtle]

Heyy! I love your writing and was wondering if you could write a piece where Mike thinks Harvey is a loner so he goes and asks Donna, but Donna tells him he’s been in a super serious relationship for a while. Mike doesn’t believe her so she tells him to go see for himself. Mike goes to Harvey’s place and sees him being super domestic and fluffy with reader.

Aww thanks! And also thanks a bunch for the request. I'm sorry it took so long. But here we go and enjoy!

Note: I'm really sorry for others who already sent me other requests, it might take me some times to post again since I'm in the middle of writing my thesis. Thanks!

Sunny Disposition

Pairing: Harvey x Reader

Mike walked with spring in his steps. It's been approximately 10 hours since Harvey snapped in his face and gave him a direct order to not leave the building unless he found anything they needed for the hearing next Monday. Mike was bummed that he had to cancel tonight's dinner with Rachel. They made an agreement to always have dinner somewhere new every Friday. But here he was. Stuck with piles upon piles upon piles of documents. Nevertheless, he found it. This could be a breakthrough in court. They could win easily with this. But as he got closer to Harvey's office, he slowed down. Frown graced his face. The door to Harvey's office is closed, lights off. Donna was the only sign of life near Harvey's office. Even Donna was getting ready to leave. He walked faster to Donna's desk before she got the chance to leave. "Where's Harvey?" Mike asked, confusion apparent in his voice. "He left at 6," Donna said nonchalantly as if the information wasn't odd at all. It was odd to Mike. Harvey left at 6? Was his place on fire?

"He left at 6? Why did he leave at 6? I have a girlfriend at home, who had dinner alone because Harvey told me not to leave this building. He had a cactus you left him, just that." Mike said in disbelief. Donna chuckled and got back to gathering her things, ready to leave. "Why has Harvey never been in a serious relationship?" Mike asked, all curious. "Last was with Scottie, right? But it wasn't that serious. Though Harvey snapped at me over a pencil after the breakup. But it wasn't that serious from what I see." Donna watched the younger guy rambling. "I can't imagine being Harvey, get home only to a cactus." Mike closed his eyes and shook his head, imagining his home without Rachel. "Harvey is in a serious relationship, Mike." Mike opened his eyes so fast, his hand covering his mouth. "Get out," Mike said in disbelief. "He's been in this relationship for over a year. In fact, he just proposed to her last month, on her birthday, in Florence." Mike's brows knitted together as he tried to remember if there was anything different from Harvey last month. He did take a week vacation, and he dodged questions about his holiday. When he got back he brought with him a beautifully hand-carved pen for Mike. It did creep Mike out. Harvey and souvenirs just don't bode well. He shook his head. "Lies. You said that just to make me feel bad for getting pissed at Harvey because he went home early." Donna rolled his eyes, "If you don't believe me, why don't you give him a visit, and see it for yourself." Donna said as she left her desk.

Mike knocked after he tried the door and failed. He was ready to face Harvey with a glass of whisky in his hand. What he didn't expect was a woman opened the door for him. She dressed in Harvey's dress shirt, black leggings, and an apron. The smell of deliciousness came out as she opened the door. She smiled brightly at Mike. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" she said in all friendliness. Mike snapped out of it and offered his hand, "I'm sorry, I'm Mike Ross. I work with Harvey, I'm here to drop some important documents." Mike explained, confusion still thick in his head. Was Donna telling the truth? Before none of them could say anything, he heard Harvey call from inside. "Sweetheart, who is it?" Mike looked at her in surprise. Sweetheart? Now, sweetheart and Harvey Specter doesn't bode well even more. The woman in front of her ignored Harvey and instead of shaking his hand, she hugged him. "I've heard so much about you! Harvey won't shut up. It's great to finally put a face to a name, and please come in. We are just cooking dinner. Harvey must've confined you in the office. Come in, please," she moved aside to let Mike in. "Harvaroooo" she called out as they entered the kitchen. Harvey turned from the stove and locked eyes with Mike. Harvey frowned and seemed caught off guard. Mike almost laughed at the sight of Harvey standing over a stove, bare feet, holding a spatula. "Harvey baby, look who showed up on our doorstep!" she walked past Harvey as Harvey stood there in confusion. She retrieved a wine glass. "Harvey, why don't you sit down with Mike while I finish up dinner? He mentioned important documents," Harvey nodded, "Mike, you fine with red?" she brought the bottle over her head for Mike to see. "Yes, of course," Mike said slowly, eyes still locked on Harvey's. She brought the glass over to Harvey. "Here, go sit down with Mike," she said, and again, Harvey nodded. This woman can order Harvey around and she's not Jessica, Mike thought. "You sure you don't need help? I can help you finish dinner. Mike can wait. Right, Mike?" Harvey called out. "Yes," Mike answered shortly, still in a daze. "No, baby. You and Mike go out sit on the balcony, and talk about..." she trailed off then smiled, "Talk about whatever you need to talk about while I finish dinner. It shouldn't be long anyway." Mike saw Harvey look down at her. He whispered sweet nothings in her ears as she giggled. He pecked her lips before turning to Mike, he handed him the glass of red and gestured outside with his head. "Wow," Mike said in amazement as he leaned on the railing of the balcony. "Perks of being successful, I can afford this view," Harvey said, leaning on the railing beside him. They both have the view of the kitchen, with the mysterious woman taking an extra plate for Mike. "When are you going to tell me that you're actually engaged?" Mike asked, turning his head to look at Harvey. "I don't mix her with work. When I pissed people off and they found out about her, they will use her against me. I won't let that happen on my watch," Harvey said solemnly. A small smile crossed Harvey's lips as he looked inside at his girl. Mike didn't miss it. "She's beautiful," Mike said, patting Harvey on the back. "Congratulations," Mike said as he pulled him into a hug. Before Harvey could say anything, she opened the sliding door to tell both men that dinner was ready.

Harvey put his hand on his lower back as they walked to the dining table. "You should've told me to help you set the table," Harvey said and she waved him off. "It's fine, Harvey." Harvey pulled the chair for her and kissed the top of her head as she sat down. Mike smiled at the interaction. No matter how much Mike denied it, Harvey is his friend. Mike cared a lot about him and to know that Harvey found her, put Mike's mind at ease. "Oh, I hope we knew you'd come. I hope you're fine with ravioli?" she asked and Mike shook his head. "Please, if anything I'm the one ruining your night with Harvey." Mike gave her a reassuring smile. "It's not like Harvey is an angel and didn't keep you in the office away from your girlfriend," she looked at Harvey and swatted his shoulder, "You should stop doing that, Harvey!" Harvey laughed as he caught her hand and gave it a kiss on the inside of her wrist before letting it go. "Harvey never told me about you," Mike started as he took a bite of the ravioli, "Damn, this is the best ravioli I've ever put in my mouth." Mike closed his eyes as he savored the flavors. "My girl here is the best cook," Harvey said proudly and smiled at her and she laughed. "Harvey never told you about me because I'm a mere mistress," she shrugged as Mike laughed. Mike glanced at her ring finger, adorned with a huge diamond ring. Harvey must've spent a fortune on that. "Sunny, can you pass me the pepper?" Harvey asked her as she passed him the pepper. "Sunny?" Mike asked, eyebrow raised. "Sunny is his silly nickname for me," she waved him off. "Just like Harvaroo?" Mike joked and Harvey choked on his food. The two of them laughed at the even sillier nickname. "It's not a silly nickname," Harvey said after he regained his composure. "Harvaroo?" Mike asked, amusement glinting in his eyes. "That's a silly nickname," Harvey scoffed. "Sunny is not a silly nickname," Mike looked at Harvey, asked him to continue. "She's the ray of sun amidst my storm. I wouldn't know simple happiness without her." Harvey said as he leaned forward to kiss her. Mike watched the two of them and smiled. Relieved washed over him, knowing Harvey, the loner he thought, was actually very much in love.

MASTERLIST

[marvelstan0905]

Kenji Sato Love Languages :

Hiii🥺These are really random! I didn't exactly have a oneshot/imagine for this. I'm thinking about opening up requests for Kenji Sato but I'm a little worried I might get overwhelmed! Please let me know if you guys do want me to open requests :)Those of you who do requests, how do you manage? 🥰

[Hi guys! I did complete writing the scenario but i dont know why it deleted Words Of Affirmation/Gift Giving. Im so sad😭Ill write a part 2]

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

5 Types Of Love Languages :

Quality Time :

I think Kenji values quality time the most considering his dad wasn't around alot and his mom went missing so for him time is everything. If that makes. Despite his baseball career, tirelessly taking care of his baby Emi and his own personal struggles, I think he'd always try to make tome for his partner. Whether that be a short little call or a text asking if his partner ate not. Or even just inviting them over to feel the presence whiles he takes care of Emi.

Texts from Kenji : "Did you eat?" "I ordered lunch from that restaurant, you like" "You should come over. I don't mind if you just sit there but I'd really to see you"

Acts of Service :

To me, Kenji gives chivalrous gentlemen despite his cock and brash persona. I definetly think he'll open doors, pull out chairs or even those simple things like peeling his partner's oranges. [I know random🤣😭] but he's the type to do those things or even make breakfast, despite his exhaustion he's always trying to do something to make things easier for his partner. At times it gives nagging dad but he cares alot.

1. "You should eat your vitamins. I put them on the table" Kenji perists sliding the tiny plate of vitamins over to you

2. "Let me walk on the side of the road. I don't want you to get trampled by some random car" Kenji scolded you whiles moving you away from the side of the road. "Kenji..cars shouldn't be near the Paths or walkways?" You'd raise a brow at his logic as he placed his hand on your lower back to lead you away from the side of the road. "There's random things out in this world. You don't know..pigs could start flying"

Physical Affection :

Kenji for me seems like an angry kitten for affection. Almost like, he'll push you away only to pull the his partner closer whiles grumbling about how he doesn't like the affection. I think deep down he's angry deprived kitten of love. I think he wants lot of physical touch. I mean remember that scene where man's cuddled Emi..like stop🥺 I really think Kenji would find any excuse to have some physical touch.

1."Honey? Why are you linking our pinkies together? I'm trying to work here?" You'd ask whiles typing up some document for work. Kenji would simply huff and link your pinkies tighter together. "I just wanted a reason to be near you..you promised we'd be together forever..so I'm solidifying the promise"Kenji would reason with pout. You'd hum and stop typing "That doesn't make sense, babe" "Shh..just keep typing. Let me be happy"

2. You'd open your arms for cuddles and jump onto the poor man, only for him to tense up and gently push you away. Since you're used to such reactions, you just tightened your grip on him "You're in my bubble. Babe, get off..maybe not" Kenji grumbled but wrapped his arms around you knowing this was his safe space. "You're such a softie" "Shut up"

To be continued...

[jd-loves-fiction]

For your event, may I request Idia and first time together (as in making love)

idk how to word that better. sounded more romantic in my head. Lowkey love how you write Idia BSKEBEJ

💐oh honey thank you🥺you worded that fine hun, making it romantic is my job :3 also this smut is gonna have a heckin lot of plot so sit tight. Also HEAVILY inspired by the Hades game cuz i just love that version of the underworld❤ also couldn't resist adding some angst teehee

❧ Like mortals do

❧ Word count: 4k

❧ Contains: explicit sexual descriptions, handjob, unprotected sex (you're dead but... yknow), penetrative sex, afab!reader, inexperienced!Idia, the floweriest of languages

❧ Idia hates himself for thinking so, but he despises the way your heart remains guarded. No matter what. No matter how much you want to let him in.

He can tell, with the way you get so close to him when delivering documents, how your touch lingers when you hand them over.

And most of all, the way your eyes linger on his form when he is forced out of his office for one reason or another, before you look down bashfully. He can almost see red over your cheeks, were you capable of such a human feat after passing. 

But still, you close yourself off to him, allowing him only an arm's length of proximity and nothing more. 

He feels so selfish for thinking it, but oh, how he wishes he could take comfort from having you by his side during his necessary ventures outside of his chambers. Or better yet, to have you keep him company in his office. Perhaps then he'd actually feel motivated to get work done. 

After some time and research, he surmises that your attachment to the Overworld is to blame. 

And by that, he means he heard you mumbling about it and sighing wistfully while looking up at the cavernous sky of the Underworld. 

Idia decides that something must be done. Not only for his sake, no, mostly for yours, he reasons. Longing for a home no longer accessible will do you no good. 

"H-Hey," he greets you, stepping into the now lush garden, "I hope I'm not interrupting."

He seems to say this a lot nowadays, after having realized how much this place matters to you – your own sanctuary. Much like his office; Idia doesn't like when people enter his office without his permission. 

"Not at all. What do you need?"

"I need you to come with me. There's something I want to show you."

You stand before the door to the Temple of Styx, gulping down your nerves (or trying to) as Idia waits for your signal to open the massive gates.

“I must warn you, it’s only a temporary visit. One way or another, once your time is up, you will return to the Underworld.” The strangely serious tone makes you nod.

"Do you usually do this? For other people, I mean." Perhaps mindless small talk will help calm your nerves. Your ghostly heart is beating so hard you can barely hear Idia over the sound. 

"Of course not. Plus I don't believe the other Shades would want this." His answer raises many questions about how the Underworld works exactly, but you keep back from them. Not now, perhaps later. 

"Ready?" You don't know the answer to his question, but you nod anyway. If not now, never. 

Wind strong enough to knock you on your ass, were you still alive, blows past you as the gates open with a wave of Idia’s hand. Golden sunlight shines upon your skin, though you can no longer feel its heat.

Stepping forward, away from the massive doors, your feet land on soft snow.

The view from above is breathtaking, like something out of a painting... Without color. This simply because of what you're missing. 

You cannot feel the heat of the sun or the cold of the snow and chilly wind nor the softness of the snow beneath your feet and so it all feels... Distant. Hollow. Fake, even. 

You sit by a small stream, a thin layer of ice over it. Placing your feet over it doesn't even move it. Seems you really have no effect on this plane of existence. 

You feel as if you should cry, but no tears come forth, though you know they can, given how much you screamed and cried in agony on your first night of your new 'life'. 

Idia approaches you, you can hear the crunching of the snow beneath his feet, feel his presence behind you. But he doesn't say a word, perhaps not knowing what you need to hear. Nor what you want to hear. 

But there are none such words. For now, all you need is silence, the sound of rustling leaves and birds taking flight. 

“Your time is almost over. I’m sorry, but we must return now of our own will. Otherwise the Underworld will take us forcibly, and that won’t be pleasant.” Idia says gently, knowing he’s already pushing it and warning you too late.

"I just never thought–" Idia leans towards you curiously, waiting for you to continue speaking, "Nevermind."

A sudden tightening appears within your chest, perhaps it's emotion welling up from the knowledge that your original home is no more and all that's left is the desolate land of Death.

But it's not all so bad. Despite how much you resisted in the beginning, now, in this quiet moment, you realize that Idia is not nearly as terrible as you'd initially thought.

He gave you a home, a purpose, despite how much you insulted him to his face, not that you knew it was him then. And after so much pestering, he showed you something that someone dead would never have the chance to see, the Overworld.

You get up from your seat suddenly, hoping to thank him for all he’s done, to face the feelings that have been brewing in your chest for a while now. But dizziness hits you like the cold mountain wind and your legs nearly give out, “W-What’s happening?”

"I warned you. Time's up. But don't worry, it'll be over quickly." Idia speaks softly, hands on your shoulders as you start feeling even more faint.

Your breathing speeds up in a panic, even though you no longer need it, legs shaking under your own weight. Falling backwards, you land upon his chest as your eyelids fall slowly. And then, you're gone.

Waking up your eyelids feel far too heavy to lift, so they remain shut as you feel something lap at you, wet and cold. You realize it’s the blood pool back at the House of Shroud just as Idia takes your body into his arms.

He’s cold but you snuggle closer to his body, seeking not warmth but comfort.

Even as soft, unfamiliar, sheets press against your back, you cling to him. "...don't leave."

Idia blinks down at you, between your droopy eyes and the hands that cling to his clothing.

"I-I shouldn't." You groan at his response, hands crawling upwards and behind his neck to pull him closer. “You should. Because I said so.”

He chuckles before sighing, relaxing beneath your hands and laying beside you.

Idia smells of smoke and... snow. An odd combination to be sure but not wholly unpleasant.

“I wanted… ugh…” You begin, attempting to thank him at least, but your mouth feels as if it’s stuffed with cotton and your head feels both floaty and heavy. It’s as if your body demands sleep despite not needing it.

“Shh… we’ll talk later.” Idia whispers, seemingly cool and collected… if not for the shaking of the pale hand running through your hair. But the effect is the same, in what feels like a second, you’re out like a light, enjoying the luxury that is sleep in the Underworld.

“I see. Well, tell them to hurry it up, I’ve already given them plenty of time to finish it. I get that we have all eternity to get things done but still, I get rather impatient.” Idia’s voice sounds from somewhere distant as you come to, blinking blearily and wondering if you’re still dreaming with how stern he sounds.

No light stings your eyes as they open, finally taking in the dark, lavish room around you. Idia’s room… You’re in Idia’s room still… in his bed, no less.

You sit up so fast you feel dizzy out of human habit. It’s one thing to consider forgiving him, another still to think about confessing about the feelings you’ve kept so well hidden… but to sleep in his bed? You would never!

But… it’s so soft… and cool… and it smells just like him… Focus!

From the balcony beyond the dark curtains comes a grumble, followed by furious clicking and clacking. The long cloth parts just enough for a glimpse of his blue fire mane and for a moment you wonder; could you run your fingers through it like hair? Would it burn you?

Before you know it, your feet take you towards his half-hunched figure, fingers reaching out to sate your curiosities. Just as you get close Idia seems to send your presence behind himself, turning around to greet you, entirely unaware of the mental downpour going inside your head, “Oh! You’re up.”

His expression tells you he’s pleased with this, unlike his tone. He always did seem to have better control over his voice rather than his features.

“Is all that… normal?” Your voice sounds weaker than expected.

“It’s not common for mortals to visit the Overworld after passing but, from the few examples I’ve seen, yes. Very much so.” His voice sounds… oddly stable? Almost confident?

Strange. Very strange.

Sure, in the tales told of his attitude by the other shades he was always cold and stern, but the Idia you now know is anything but.

“T-There’s something I must tell you.” You’re now the one stuttering nervously, but admitting that you misjudged someone so badly would sting anyone’s ego.

Idia tilts his head curiously like a puppy and the thought makes you want to yell in confusion and frustration.

“I… forgive… you.” Getting the words out feels like walking through quicksand but it feels necessary. Despite him being the reason why you ended up here in the first place, Idia’s been nothing but downright indulgent with you in a way that he really didn't have to be and probably shouldn't be.

“I see now all that you’ve done to ease my sorrows. And I understand that I should not have expected to be given more time for being pious. Death comes for us all and I’m no different.” You finally raise you head, just catching the change in his expression, from bashful to somewhat anxious.

“I must be honest with you as well. Your death… was not entirely natural.” Idia looks off into the dark distance, brows furrowed thoughtfully, flame-hair moving rapidly, “I’m not s-sure if this is… something you want to hear about.”

“Yes!” You respond before he’s even done speaking, “I need to know the truth of it. Please,“ The desperation in your voice convinces him, clearing his throat to speak clearly, eyes conveniently averted.

“You were meant to have a much more… tragic death. One I felt was not befitting of your worth.”

“My worth?”

Idia’s wide shoulders drop, hair losing much of its brightness as a gloomy cloud forms over him, “Not many mortals worship my mother. Perhaps her deeds, but never her name… I felt you were worthy of some consideration because you are one of the few who did.”

Processing the information, you remain silent as he continues, “Our relationship’s never been very good but, us immortals, we can't just cut ties. A part of me will never forgive them both for what they did, or what they didn't. But another part of me will always be their son, so I felt I should… I don't know. This must make no sense to you… forget it.” His confidence runs out quickly as his eyes meet yours, cheeks flushing blue upon the pale canvas of his face, before he hides it behind his large hands.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what…”

“Hide your face. I never imagined the gods… bashful.” The mere thought makes you chuckle.

The amusement is cut short upon seeing Idia's face fall, “I'm not like them.”

“Well, sure you're not.” His frown turns into a pout before you continue, “From what I know, you're much more pleasant to be around.”

“I- I appreciate that… but that's not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” You ask innocently, watching as he curls in on himself, dark blue upon his cheeks.

“I'm just not– I don't– I'm not that handsome, beautiful, whatever you call it. People think I look strange.” He looks away from you, down at the dour grounds of his estate. You think to yourself that such a thing must not be true, not with what you see before you…

Your face flushes at the thought. Could it be that… your forgiveness of his actions… has turned to infatuation? Could it perhaps be that… it was always there beneath the scorn?

But you concede – he is indeed nothing like how you picture the gods to be. No skin of bronze stretched over absurd muscles like in the statues, no absurd posing and posturing at every turn…

“Since now is a time for honesty… No, you’re nothing like them.” The curiosity shining in his irises turns to resigned acceptance at your words, already imagining the worst of what you’ll say next. 

“You’re not extroverted, rowdy or entertaining. You don't walk around like everyone owes you something just because they get to look upon your splendorous visage.” Making a silly pose gets a low chuckle out of him.

“But you know what? I’m glad. Who can stand people– gods? Like that anyway? Not me… if that means anything.” Your face gets so warm so quickly while trying to make your feelings less obvious that you’re worried you might be cursed. That can't be normal.

“You’re…” Words fail you, so much you can and wish to say. How you’d much rather his bashfulness over their boldness, his attentiveness over their supposedly good natured obliviousness, the hesitant stutter of his purely honest words over their confident, practiced speeches. “No words would suffice to tell you just how starkly different you are from them.”

The candidness of your tone gives him pause, it’s as if all that you wish to say but are unable to somehow makes itself known to him anyway. Perhaps he can read minds? You wouldn't put it past him.

His gaze changes, softening to a gentle yellow like the first rays of sunlight peeking out over the horizon – you’re caught in it, unable and unwilling to resist the urge to draw closer and closer to his blue lips.

Idia hesitates at the last second, brows furrowed in frustration, no doubt overthinking the whole ordeal, but your emotions are just about ready to boil over so you heed their order and connect your lips decidedly, hesitation be damned. He’s tense for only a second, before eagerly grabbing at your shoulder as well as the balustrade; his attempt to remain chaste with his touches is adorable, even if all you want to do is devour him, let out all your frustrations along with your fondness for him in one go.

“Idia…” You whisper against his lips, feeling the immense heat of him against your face. The expression he makes is almost painful… delightfully so.

“Please don't do that… I can’t–” He pinches his eyes closed, but makes no move away from you. He’s flushed down to his chest just thinking about how badly he wants you – the thought fills you with a dangerous boldness.

“Why not? Aren’t you the king? You can do as you please… no?” Your hands trail down his arms teasingly, delighting in the way he shivers and twitches.

“I-It’s not so simple. There are rules and r-responsibilities…” It’s to you his consciousness is making up excuses for some reason. You loathe to think it could be the fault of the solitary life he’s lived, full of people who hate him just as you once did… without even knowing him at all.

“There is nothing… There is just you and me here. And I. Want. You.” He gulps loudly.

“If you’ll have me, of course.” The look on his face is hard to describe – it’s like you’ve given him all that he’s ever wanted in life and yet was never allowed to have, and told him that he can have it. 

He hastily grabs your hand to pull you into his bedroom again, his grip remaining surprisingly gentle. Once you make it to his bed, he tenses up, unsure of where to look, where to put his hands, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Momentarily, a flash of annoyance crosses his face as if he wants to disagree, before he realises you’re right, “Not the best place to… fall in love.”

“Sounds like someone didn't try hard enough,” you edge closer to where he sits at the edge of the bed – he refuses to meet your eyes still but seems to be more at ease than before, hands relaxed in his lap and hair slowly returning to its natural blue.

“Hey,” you croon, grasping his chin gently, “I can guide you, if you’d like. I’m no expert but I do know a bit about… worldly pleasures.”

“A bit more than me, I’m sure.” He replies bashfully, eyes glued to your lips as you draw close once more. You give him only a peck before pulling back, then going back in at the downright desperate look in his eye. Who knew a god would be so easy to bend.

Your hands grasp his in his distraction, pulling them to the edge of your robes. Lost in your kiss, which keeps getting hotter, he pulls the cloth away as you wordlessly command. The robes part easily, fluttering away from your body.

Once his eyes open, he finds himself staring at your bare form, flushing a deeper blue in response. A string of saliva hangs from his slack bottom lip, eyes roaming all of you appreciatively – though he seems much too flustered to admit it aloud.

“Now you.” You whisper, hands delicately placed at the edge of his ornate robes, before he gives a twitchy nod, closing his eyes as you lay him bare to your eyes.

Hands held you pull him to sit against the carved wooden headboard, observing his naked figure as you do. He sure looks godly. 

Idia’s eyes dart in every direction like corner prey, hands clenched around his silk sheets in what you suspect is more excitement than trepidation. You crawl to where he sits, kisses placed in what milky skin you pass by, delighting in his adorable twitching, “You’re a god, right? All you need to do is let me worship you.”

Not a second wasted, you start with his flushed neck, kisses laid against it like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings and still he flinches as if you’ve struck him with a leather whip. Descending to his pale chest, you do the same along with a gentle nibble close to his nipple, soothed quickly with a pass of your warm tongue.

He calls out your name like a prayer – desperate and vulnerable. If you were yourself a god, you think you’d not be too bad at it, since you’d never dare refuse such a humble request.

Your mouth moves almost on its own, your very soul utterly entranced by him and his delicious reactions to the touch of a mere mortal, kissing and licking his chest and abdomen more firmly now, as if it were possible to nibble your way through to the very soul of him and settle yourself there.

Drawing back to allow him to catch his breath, your gaze crawls over the way his features shift from the pleasure, dark blue over his features like watercolor paint. Your hand cradles the side of his face to grab his attention, before your other hand lowers itself to his cock – hard and darkened already, gleaming a faint silver at the tip. It’s beautiful and otherworldly, same as the rest of him and you ache to tug on it until he’s crumbling in your arms as mortals do.

Asking for silent permission with your gaze, you wrap your cool fingers around him once he nods, receiving an instant reaction when his back tenses up as if electricity just passed through him, a moan trapped in the back of his bashful throat. You’re suddenly filled with a need to get those sounds out of him.

Your hands move gently, up and down, grip steady but delicate. His breath is beyond uneven, hitching and exhaling in a rush at the slightest movement. Only a sliver of his eyes is open, watching you shyly, “You’re so beautiful, Idia.”

The face he makes makes it seems as if you’ve stabbed him, so gorgeously stunned for a moment before his head falls back with a breathy whimper, “Don’t– Gods, I–”

Movements continue, a rhythm established; when your thumb ghosts over his tip his whole body twitches. Who but the Fates could’ve foreseen that the man you so despised would end up putty at your feet.

By the way he reacts, Idia is undoubtedly close and so you slowly, carefully, pull your hand away – meeting his befuddled gaze head on as he finally looks you in your lust-darkened eyes, “Not yet,” you tell him.

His breathing is ragged as you place yourself on his lap, feeling the heat of him from the proximity. Hands around his face, you observe the frankly pitiful expression he sports – head lowered as he gazes up at you from beneath dark lashes, blue bottom lip poking outward slightly, “Please…”

You think for a moment that not spoiling this man might just be impossible.

“I’ve got you, my dear.” you whisper tenderly, kissing him sweetly. There’s something in his glowing gaze, an intensity you’ve never seen – he wants this as much as you, even if his mouth refuses to let him admit it.

Wordlessly, you grasp his cock again, moving it towards your drenched center, foreheads touching as he waits for you to move. You do when he’s not expecting it, tearing a sudden moan from deep within his chest as you insert the very tip of him into you.

His face immediately moved to the crook of your neck, hands gripping onto your side with a vice, entire body trembling at the warmth of you. Inch by delicious bitter inch, you sit yourself fully atop his milky lap, listening closely to his ruined breathing and quickened heartbeat. There are moans hiding behind his teeth and they escape him slowly and quietly when he cannot hold them within.

Your name falls from his lovely lips ceaselessly now, on every exhale as you start moving up and down on him, tenderly but firmly. He feels extraordinary inside you, stretching at every sensitive spot perfectly with unknowing precision. Despite how loud he is, you yourself cannot deny the effect he has on your body without even meaning to – you’re losing your mind as you ride him faster and faster without realizing it.

His mouth seals itself upon your neck suddenly, sharp teeth digging into your flesh in a way that would’ve hurt were you still alive, burying his sounds in your skin as you both grow closer and closer, “Almost there, I’ve got y-you, Idia. I’ve g-got you…”

The weakness in your reassurance makes it less convincing, not that Idia notices with how lost in the moment he is, high so close he can taste it on the back of his tongue along with the lingering taste of your skin. 

The very air around you seems to vibrate with undeniable power as Idia finally comes, heaving against your shoulder, noises finally unrestrained.

Your own end catches you off guard, so lost are you in his pleasure, punching the air from your lungs as you slam down on him one last time.

Breaths mingling, you sit for what could be minutes or hours, staring into each other’s heady gazes. His face seems to now be permanently tainted a dark flustered blue, though his eyes hold nothing but bare admiration and affection – a look you’d previously thought him incapable of possessing. You're sure you must look similar.

“I–”

“You don't need to speak–”

“No,” he replies firmly, hand grasping yours against his cheek, nose digging into the softness of your palm tenderly, “I must apologize for the situation I put you in. I had no right to make that decision for you. Even if it all turned out alright in the end.”

“It is the way of the gods, is it not?” You answer dismissively, looking off to the side once the reality of who you’re speaking to crashes down on you. 

Just how different from them can he really be?

You completely miss the dejected look on his face.

[kurogane2512]

Was supposed to write this as a Christmas fic but here it is being a mix of Christmas and New Year~

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Various x fem!reader (Chief) (includes Chameleon, Cabernet, Eirene, Langley, Garofano, Sumire, Chelsea, Lady Pearl, Vautour Bleu and Bai Yi; basically open relationship with all)

Type: Fluff and implied smut (long fic)

The end of the year was a busy time for you with lots of reports and documentation to complete, even more so considering the staff had taken holidays for the last week to spend time with their families and loved ones. Unfortunately, as the Chief of MBCC, you didn't have such plans. After all, you didn't have a home or family to go back to. Your days were always spent in the Bureau, whether it be working days or not. You didn't mind it, you liked the place and it was important to be there for the Sinners.

Some Sinners also took permissions for outing this week, most likely for similar reasons as the staff. But a considerable amount was still at the bureau and it was your duty to ensure they enjoy the holidays too. With that in mind, you had already planned everything with Nightingale's help to organise a Christmas party. On the morning of Christmas, the Sinners woke up to find lights and holiday decorations all around the bureau and personalized invitations at their doors. By evening, everyone started gathering in the recreational area wearing Christmas themed outfits and eagerly waiting for the party to begin.

"Did she really plan all this? I'm impressed~"

"She's always so hard working for us..."

"I can't wait to see what's in store!"

They mumbled amongst themselves as they waited. Then, all of a sudden, the door burst open and someone dressed in red and white with a beard and a red bag came hopping in cheering 'Merry Christmas' and throwing candies from the bag. It didn't take long for everyone to figure out it was none other than their beloved Chief dressed as Santa Claus. The children appeared most excited and huddled around you to take more candies, but more surprises awaited them.

"Follow me, everyone!" You announced and led them to the courtyard and their eyes widened at the marvelous sight in front.

A giant Christmas tree decorated with all sorts of ornaments stood in the center, and a huge bunch of gifts were placed under it. More lights and decorations adorned the area along with artificial snow falling down to give the effect of real Christmas as much as possible. You wanted all of them to feel happy even if they were away from their loved ones. You soon began distributing gifts from the bunch to each of them. It was a long and hard process to think of unique gifts for all, but you hoped everyone would like your choice.

"Ah, I wanted this for so long! Thank you, Chief!" Owo said excitedly.

"Chief, how did you know I wanted this....?" Garofano commented with a smile.

"My, this is unexpected but pleasant nonetheless~" Chameleon remarked while smirking.

Many more Sinners remarked on the gifts and thanked you. You were truly glad to see everyone liked what they received.

"Merry Christmas everyone! Please help yourselves to the feast and I hope all of you have a good time!" You spoke after the gift distribution, showing the unraveled buffet you specially arranged for. It was no lavish feast, but it was more than heartwarming for them to see you do so much. Many of them didn't really think much of Christmas and didn't plan to celebrate- like Chameleon, who had bare minimum interest in the festival. But even she could appreciate this gesture. Hours quickly passed as everyone enjoyed themselves to the night and the day was over before you knew it.

You went back to your office once everything was finished and sat on the couch with a sigh while removing the hefty Santa Claus clothes. You laid down on the couch for a moment to rest, your eyes fixated on the ceiling as you pondered over the day and felt happy everything went well. You then got up and decided to complete some more paperwork and your eyes fell on a small box kept on your table with the label- 'Merry Christmas, Chief. Thank you for your hard work'. There was no undersign but you could tell it was from Nightingale, she had also taken a leave from today until 31st. You smiled to yourself and securely kept the contents of the box in an appropriate place then sat on your desk to work.

Some time passed and in another corner of the bureau was the arrival of a most unexpected guest. The limousine stopped in front of the bureau and the leader of the 9th Agency stepped out, her cane tapping on the floor first. She looked at the building in front of her with a smirk then flicked her hat before beginning to walk inside. She glanced at the decorations in the courtyard as she walked, smiling internally at the preparations you did. She finally reached your office door and opened it to reveal your body perched upon the desk, meticulously working as always. Langley half expected you to rest now, but she knew well that wouldn't be the case.

"Ahem, hard at work, rookie?~"

Langley's sudden voice beamed in your ears, causing you to stand up.

"L-Langley! What brings you here at this hour?"

Langley smiled and closed the door behind her as she walked in then stood in front of you. She took a look around the office and seemed disappointed at how empty and normal it looked.

"Checking up on my rookie. I see you didn't take a break even during Christmas."

"Ah, I did for some time. You know, there was the party...."

"Hm, I see."

"Oh, that reminds me! It's good you came here right now, wait a minute."

You asked her to stay while you proceeded to look in your cabinet and soon took out a wrapped box then came back to her side.

"This is for you. Merry Christmas, boss~"

Langley looked at the beautifully wrapped box and was taken aback for a moment, though her expression remained fairly unchanged.

"What is this?"

"Your Christmas gift. I had thought to give it to you whenever we'd meet and it's good that you came right now. I hope you'll like it...."

Langley accepted the box and stared at it for a moment then kept it on the desk. Her lips curled up in a smirk and before you knew it, she pulled you closer by grabbing your chest harness and pressed her lips to yours. Your eyes widened at the surprising sensation, but Langley only went deeper as she stepped closer and pinned you against the edge of the desk. Her lips ravaged yours with fervor, rolling her tongue with yours in a passionate kiss. Her hands pinned yours to the side, holding you by your wrists as she came closer and made you lie flat on the table while her knee lodged between your thighs.

"Mmm.... L-Langley....!~"

You moaned into the kiss, fueling Langley's desire further. She bit your lower lip and continued kissing you deeply until she was satisfied. You were breathless by the time she pulled away, panting intensely while she gazed at you and caressed your lips with her thumb. She smirked as she stepped away to let you stand up and fix yourself while she fixed her own clothes too then picked up her cane.

"You have my thanks, rookie. Rest up now."

"R-Right, I will, boss...."

Langley chuckled and was about to walk out when something came in her mind.

"I do wonder, did your beloved Sinners thank you in return for all your effort? I don't see any kind of gifts around."

"Ah, they don't need to. I wanted them to enjoy which I guess they did, seeing them happy is a good enough gift for me."

Langley stared at you then nodded before turning around to walk away.

"Seriously, rookie...." she muttered under her breath before glancing one last look at you as she exited.

The day of the celebration passed and everything was back to normal. Most Sinners who went out returned while some took an extended outing until New Year's Eve. It was still a festive atmosphere but for you there was no end to the paperwork, you just hoped to complete it all before next year....

Unbeknownst to you, a secret gathering of some Sinners was being conducted in a secluded area of the bureau by courtesy of Nightingale. You'd generally have eyes and ears everywhere, but on request of the boss of the 9th Agency, Nightingale prepared a room where they could meet in solace. Nobody was aware of the agenda of this supposed meeting, many couldn't even understand why Langley wanted to meet this way.

"I gather these are all the people who are interested, Adjutant?" Langley asked Nightingale who firmly nodded.

"There would be more but I refrained from inviting too many. They will be sufficient for now."

"Understood, then let's begin right away. I won't waste much time, the agenda of this meeting is simple. Your beloved Chief organized such a marvelous Christmas party, yet she received nothing in return from any of you."

Langley's sharp words triggered many of them, some furrowing their brows as if feeling accused of doing something wrong.

"Hmm? If this is about gratitude, then I had extended an invitation to her for my private Christmas gathering and she refused it herself." Eirene was the first to speak. It was surprising she came to this meeting considering she wasn't in the party, but she was always interested in things like this if it involved you.

"Oh? What a coincidence, so did I. It's a shame truly, she would have had so much fun at my party~" Chelsea countered, making Eirene glare at her for a moment before letting out a chuckle.

"Surely your little....party would be incomparable to my annual celebration. It's renowned in Eastside and Quinn only offers the best services~"

Chelsea also glared at her before smirking, "That's precisely why my sugar baby would like my place better. It'd be more personal and....intimate, she could have anything she wants and I would ensure the best reception for her~"

Eirene was about to retort when a giggle was heard from the other corner.

"Reception, you say? Then the Francs have most experience here. Our parties are as large as Quinn's but frivolous formalities are left at the door. It's no wonder Chief declined you both to come to mine~"

Cabernet quipped, her words making everyone stare at her in shock.

"What?! I don't believe my sugar baby would discriminate this way!" Chelsea gasped.

"Um, if I may interject...." a soft voice interrupted the commotion and they all turned their gazes towards the source.

"....Chief was at the party yesterday the entire time. I can confirm since I was part of it." it was Garofano who spoke.

"If my word matters then I can confirm as well~" Chameleon added.

Chelsea let out a sigh of relief while Eirene cleared her throat and Cabernet was giggling to herself, enjoying riling them up.

"Just a moment, you say she was at the party the whole time? Did she not take the day off for her own personal matters?"

Another person spoke and this time it was Lady Pearl who had been silently listening so far.

"Yes, that appears to be the case. Adjutant Nightingale can explain better, perhaps?" Garofano replied.

Nightingale let out a sigh, "Chief lives here only; she has no home, family or associates of any kind. She put in lot of work for the party yesterday, planned it a long time ago and implemented it herself since I and most of the staff were also on leave yesterday."

Everyone went silent hearing the surprising truth. They all knew how much effort you spent to run the bureau but they weren't aware you had no personal life to speak of.

"Ah, finally I can continue? Thank you, Adjutant. Since everyone is up to date with the matter now, let me reiterate my point. I don't care what parties or gatherings you invited her to, in the end, she did not receive any gratitude in return. So, the stage is open for ideas. I don't care when it is and how it is as long as you all come to an answer she will like." Langley spoke.

The room was silent once again as everyone seemed to ponder then Chameleon spoke.

"Hmm, and why do you care so much about showing gratitude to her, Ms Langley?~"

Langley's brow twitched and she glared at Chameleon before someone added in.

"That's true. And who made you the boss here?! You weren't even at the party yourself!" Bai Yi was the one to speak this time while leisurely leaning against the wall.

"Would you like to take charge then, Ms Bai Yi?~" Langley replied with a fake smile.

"Ooh, now we are talking! Alright, listen up everyone! We are going to organize the best party for Chief!" Bai Yi announced with a cheer, but nobody cheered with her in agreement and she quiety stepped back.

Langley rolled her eyes at the annoying interferences, she was regretting to organize this meeting.

"A-Ahem, back to the topic. Would anyone like to suggest ideas? It doesn't have to be a party, our motive is to thank Chief for all she has done. I suggest we do something on the 31st and make it a New Year's present for her." Nightingale said.

"Good idea, Adjutant. I agree about making it a New Year's gift." Langley complimented.

"Well then, perhaps we should name the things she likes and choose according to that." Chameleon said.

Everyone nodded and started pondering what things you liked- be it hobbies, entertainment, food, music etc. However, after pondering for a good while, nobody could come up with concrete options. It's not that they didn't think of anything, but more like they didn't know what you liked personally.

"Uh, what does Chief even like? She seems to do anything and everything that catches her eye around the bureau...." Sumire broke the silence with her doubt.

"Hmm, I have seen her often talk with Pepper and Mentor about the plants here but it doesn't seem she grows any out of personal interest." Garofano added.

"She enjoys the plays the children perform, but always denies getting involved herself whenever I suggest her to take up the stage." Lady Pearl continued.

"She is a good food critc and always eats with me when I invite her, but in the end she enjoys simple meals most." Cabernet said.

"I suggested her to read some new books once and she read them all in a month then added them to the library, but I rarely see her pick out new books otherwise." Eirene added.

"Hmmm....something she enjoys.... Ah, all I can think about is the way her face contorts in pleasure when we—" Bai Yi spoke dreamily, until being stopped by everyone.

"Ahem, Ms Bai Yi, while I agree with you, now is not the time for that." Eirene scolded, making Bai Yi pout.

"Hmph, she certainly has a knack for getting kidnapped as well~" Langley teased, making everyone chuckle.

"She is also a terrible undercover agent if she easily fawns over her target next door~" Vautour Bleu commented.

Light chuckles resounded in the room as everyone tried to recall the things you like and enjoy, but nobody could settle on what to do for gratitude since everything they recounted only seemed to show your dedication towards them.

"I....suppose she's fond of taking care of us...." Sumire spoke in a melancholic tone.

"It's her job. Although, she does seem too focused on work all the time...." Garofano said in agreement.

"Hah, so you are saying we don't know anything she personally likes to do? Her hobbies or interests, anything?" Chelsea said in an annoyed tone.

"Adjutant, you must be knowing her better than us. Do you have any input?" Langley probed Nightingale who looked down with a dejected expression.

"No, I don't know any better either. If she's not assissting any of the Sinners then she's cooped up in her office buried in paperwork. I always try to ease her burdens so she could take a break but the work seems never ending...."

"Does she.... not have a life without us? What was she like before she became the Chief here?" Sumire asked.

Her question intrigued everyone, it was true they didn't know how you were outside of your job and before it. Langley sensed the growing curiosity and knew she had to divert the topic, disclosing such sensitive information about you would have dire consequences.

"That hardly matters, we are getting off-topic once again. If none of you can think anything then I suggest having a party and arranging personal gifts for her, it seems to be the safest option and she will get to have a break too."

Langley's proposal was fair but nobody responded immediately as they were still thinking to do something else.

"It is quite simple, I don't see what this fuss is about." Chamelon said all of a sudden, and everyone looked at her with confused faces.

"Care to explain, Chameleon?" Langley said.

"Hah.... If all we can think about is her dedication towards us then doesn't that mean we are the ones she loves most?~"

Eyes widened at Chameleon's statement as if a sudden switch was triggered in everyone's mind.

"But, isn't that—" Garofano said but was cut off.

"What's the harm in that? Don't tell me you all find yourselves to be of so little value for her?~" Chameleon said.

More silence followed Chameleon's words until Garofano spoke up with a smile.

"I adore the way she smiles when I make new clothes for her. She always tries them on so happily and thanks me, she looks so happy wearing them...."

Sumire was next to say, "She is my most treasured person. She participates in tea ceremonies and flower arrangements with me, she does it with diligence and looks forward to next time...."

Eirene added now, "She is my true partner. She never denies playing chess with me even though she always loses, and she always schedules a next match...."

"Her palate is much simpler than mine, she hardly knows most of the dishes I offer to her but she always tries everything and thanks me for introducing her to new flavors. Not to mention, she never fails to satisfy my hunger for her...." Cabernet said with a sigh.

Chameleon chuckled, "Since the day she agreed to be my toy, she has never failed to keep up with me. I look forward to the late night talks with her...."

Everyone eventually revealed their most cherished moments with you since they were the time they had seen you be the happiest around them.

"How romantic, seems a wedding ceremony may as well be the best gift for her~" Langley teased, "But, this has given me an idea now."

~*~

It was the last day of the year now. You didn't even realize how time passed so quickly and another year was coming to a close. You were thrust into this role 2 years ago with no memories or knowledge of yourself and the world, but here you were still thriving somehow. You had completed all major paperwork and were only left with minor issues which you planned to slowly complete throughout the day, today you wanted to feel relaxed. With a cup of coffee in your hand, you came to the cafeteria to grab a bite and noticed it was emptier than usual.

Most Sinners would generally be here at this hour for breakfast. You noticed how many of the older ones were absent, save for a few. You didn't pay much heed to this and headed back to your office with the coffee and sandwich in hand. More hours passed in the blink of an eye as you worked on your desk with unbroken resolve as you were determined to keep your evening free. You wanted to organize a New Year's party but had already used most budget for the Christmas party, still you planned to order some good food for everyone.

Strange enough, nobody came to your office the entire time for any matter, nor did any situation come up among the Sinners. It felt as if you were the only one in the building, if not for Nightingale's regular check-ins. You remembered some of them had taken outing permission for today as well, but the silence was still daunting. It was late evening when you finally completed your work and decided to head to your room to rest for a while.

As you approached the door, you noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor and crouched to pick it up. It was a simple card with the following words written- 'For Chief, come to us <3'

The wording made you think someone was playing a prank, but the familiar scent coming from the paper made you curious. You stood up and opened the door and were met with the sight of a red heart shaped balloon and a similar kind of paper attached to its string, which read- 'Thank you for always taking care of us'

You couldn't understand what was happening. You looked around and saw another similar balloon at the end of the lobby and swiftly walked up to it. As expected, another paper was attached to it which read- 'Thank you for your hard work'

This was followed by another balloon a few steps away with the paper reading- 'You are the light in my grim world'. This messaged seemed more personal, and you had some idea who it could be from but weren't fully sure.

The next card read- 'You are my most treasured gem.' Another personal card and this one seemed more obvious.

You blindly kept following the trail of balloons and were desperately searching for the next one which was slightly farther but not out of sight. You held the card which read- 'You are the most delicious delicacy in this world I will patiently wait for.' This could only be from a certain red-haired woman....

The next card in your hand read- 'Thank you for giving us, me, a place to call home'. Another ambiguous message, but something felt familiar about it.

You didn't realize when you reached the last balloon and were also standing in front of your own room now. You looked around in awe as you snapped out of your trance, wondering who did this but the hall was empty. The last balloon was attached to the door knob with a simple message pasted- 'We are waiting for you ;)'

You contemplated for a moment about what to do. Everything was quite suspicious and you had a few suspects in mind but weren't sure what the motive was here. You had an idea of what awaited you beyond this door. Would it really be the right choice to go in? You could simply ignore everything and walk away, but deep down you were eager to know the finish line of this chase.

You took a deep breath and turned the knob to open the door and were met with complete darkness. You stepped inside and the door automatically shut itself and you knew it was futile to try to go out. You remembered the framework of your room hence cautiously walked forward until you felt your foot step on something like a button and in an instant, bright lights covered your view followed by sounds of something popping and cheers of 'Surprise!'

As your eyes adjusted, you finally realized what was happening. There stood all of your Sinners- well, some of them- with a cake in front and party poppers on the floor. The room was decorated with simple ornaments that gave a positive and cheerful vibe, and the cake was labeled- 'Thank you'

"What.... what is all this?" those were the words that first left your mouth. The SInners in front had similar reactions, some smiled while a few chuckled at your dumbfounded expression.

"It is our gratitude for you, Chief. You did so much for us on Christmas, and every day before it, while we didn't give you anything in return. We wanted to show our appreciation for you as well." Sumire answered your question with the most sincere and honest reply.

"We are sorry we didn't give you anything in return on Christmas even though you did so much for us. Please forgive us and accept this as your belated Christmas present." Garofano continued and both of them pushed the table with the cake closer to you.

You were rendered speechless and motionless for a moment, not knowing how to respond. You looked at all the women gathered around who were smiling and waiting for you to cut the cake. You didn't know they had such thoughts and almost felt guilty for making them think you found them ungrateful.

"I... I-I don't know what to say. Um.... you all didn't have to do this. I don't feel any of you are ungrateful and I don't mind not receiving anything in return. I just wanted you all to feel happy on a festive day like that, the greatest gift for me is seeing you all being happy...."

The words barely came out of you as you stuttered out of embarrassment. All of them felt their hearts skip a beat hearing them, it was beyond their understanding how you could make them feel this way.

"Save your humility for later, Chief. It wouldn't hurt to receive thanks once in a while, would it?~" Chameleon spoke amidst the silence and walked up to you. She stood in front and lighted the candle on the cake then stepped back.

"Indeed. You deserve this, rookie~" Langley's voice beamed from your left.

You felt overwhelmed at the gesture and struggled to react for a while then took a deep breath and picked up the knife. You blew the candle and everyone clapped as you cut the cake. You didn't expect to receive anything like this, but you would be lying if you said the feeling wasn't good.

"Whose idea was it to do this, by the way?" you asked and everyone fell silent once again until Langley spoke.

"That doesn't matter. It was a group effort in the end. Now then, let's move to the gifts."

It seemed as if she dodged the question but you didn't probe further as you were more surprised hearing about gifts.

"Wait, gifts? There's more to this surprise?"

"Why, of course. No celebration is complete without gifts, is it?~" Chelsea spoke.

You waited for them to give their gifts but you couldn't see any kind of boxes or packets around them. All of a sudden, they stepped closer to you at once and soon stood in a circle around you. Their eyes glimmered with mischief, lips curled up in smirks as they gazed at you.

"S-So, what are the gifts....?"

"About that, Chief..... We thought long and hard about the things you like— any accessories, electronics, food— anything. But in the end, we couldn't figure out any materialistic option that you'd like." Eirene said in a humming tone.

"But then, the best option finally dawned on us after meticulous discussion. Care to take a guess?~" Chelsea added.

"Uhhh, I'm not sure...."

"Hehe~ Oh, you are so adorable, Chief~" Chameleon commented.

"We realized the best gift for you is.... us~" Cabernet revealed, making your eyes widen in surprise.

"I-I don't think I follow...." you nervously spoke, subconsciously averting your gaze from them.

"We know, Chief. You care for us most. And we care for you as well, you are the most important person in our lives. That's why, we want to give ourselves to you. Our mind, body and soul— everything is yours." Garofano explained and stepped closer to hold your hand.

You were rendered speechless once again. The turn of events was most unexpected. While you already had sexual relationships with all of them as a form of stress relief and fulfillment, you didn't think they wanted something so serious with you.

"Take us, Chief. There is nobody else who deserves us the way you do, we cannot think to devote ourselves to anyone other than you." Sumire added and stepped in to hold your other hand.

"I...." you tried to form words but none came out.

You could see their expressions turning sour at your continued silence and realized you were making them upset. But before you could finally respond, someone jumped in and kissed you. Surprised gasps resounded around you at the perpetrator- who was none other than Bai Yi.

"Aah, all of you were wasting so much time that I couldn't wait! Stop thinking so much about it and just take us, Chief~" Bai Yi said with a wink and kissed you again.

Perhaps the electrifying kiss is exactly what you needed to come back to your senses. Once she pulled away, you were finally brave enough to accept what was happening and respond accordingly.

"I.... I'm very grateful for this. Truly, you all didn't need to do it but I am very happy. Thank you, all of you. As for your gifts.... a-ahem, how should I open them....?" you said with a blush and they smirked at your question.

You then felt a pair of arms wrap around your neck and were soon pulled to the side by Sumire who hurriedly kissed you. Garofano chuckled at her colleague's impatient action, but she knew deep down she was equally impatient. As soon as Sumire let you go, Garofano pulled you to her side by your collar and kissed you next, pressing her lips deeply with yours.

"Ah, how unruly of you three to steal kisses from her before us~" Vautour said while stepping closer.

You realized all of them had stepped closer to you and were squeezing you in the center, your face turned red at their close proximity.

"S-So, what are we going to d— mmph!~"

Your words were blocked by Chelsea who kissed you next, swiftly moving in and closing the gap.

"Don't forget you are still my sugar baby~" she whispered against your lips.

"If that's the case...." Chameleon said and pulled you out of Chelsea's hold. Her hand cupped your face before she moved close to ghost your lips, "....You are also my toy, I'm not going to stop our little games~". She then kissed you, pressing herself against you.

You were already feeling overwhelmed and embarrassed by the continuous kisses, but you knew more awaited. Cabernet was next to pull you towards her. She embraced you as if swallowing you, wrapping herself around you sensually while kissing you.

"Mmm, your taste is always addicting.... Let me have more, darling~"

"That will have to wait. Come here, my partner~" Eirene beckoned you with her finger. You had merely taken a few steps towards her when she suddenly embraced you before kissing you passionately.

"Just to be clear, the Quinn is still not included in this relationship. You have more ways to go before you can inherit it beside me~"

Your mind plunged in a daze. You didn't even drink any alcohol but felt dizzy as things continued, perhaps it was the feeling of being lovestruck. As soon as Eirene released you, you were pulled away once again but pinned to the wall this time with your wrists held out to the sides. The action and touch of the person was familiar, and you were indeed correct when the person came in front of you to occupy all your senses with her deep, hypnotizing presence.

"V-Vautour...." you merely whispered her name, a small smile growing on her lips.

"A very interesting place you brought me to.... I'm willing to rest my wings here and make it my nest~"

Vautour Bleu husked then drew close to kiss you. Her kiss was gentler and slower than others, but conveyed the same kind of feelings. She stepped away before you even realized the sensation was gone. A hand grabbed your wrist and you were pulled again, this time into a dance position. Lady Pearl was your partner, her right hand resting on your shoulder while her left joined your right.

"You never fail to surprise me.... Oh, this reverie is enchanting and I wish to dance with you till the world goes up in flames~"

She came close to kiss you too, a simple yet frenzied kiss that showed her desire for you. Just when you thought it was over, you remebered someone important was left.

"Enjoying the attention, rookie?~" Langley spoke from behind. You were about to turn around to face her but she didn't let you as she embraced you from the back, her right hand cupping your jaw.

"....You were the one who planned this, right?"

Langley didn't reply and you couldn't see her expression either. She simply turned your face towards herself and leaned down to kiss you.

"Some truths are better left unsaid, rookie~"

As you stood in Langley's secure hold, rest of the Sinners grouped around you again and were gazing at you with hooded eyes.

"S-So, what now....?" you nervously asked them, feeling unsure of the thoughts swirling in your mind.

"You should unravel your gifts now~" Cabernet spoke while guiding your hand towards her breast. Intense blush occupied your face at the soft sensation of her breast in your palm, feelings of arousal rising in you.

Another person guided your other hand towards themselves, making you grasp a piece of clothing covering their chest.

"Remove it, Chief. Your gift is waiting~" Bai Yi probed while holding out the string of her bra that was a simple tug away from being undone.

"This is going to take too much time if we go one by one~" Chameleon mused, her eyes glinting with lust and you knew she was thinking something mischievous.

"Well.... who says we need to go one by one?~" Vautour added, "I'm sure our beloved Chief would prefer to have all gifts at once~"

The suggestion was surprising but nobody denied it; they were all too eager to be with you, after all.

In the next few moments, shuffling of clothes filled the room as you undressed them. You pulled Bai Yi's bra string first and freed her breasts then slipped down Cabernet's gown and exposed half of her body before moving to Chameleon to unzip her skirt. They continued removing rest of their clothes while you moved to Eirene to open her dress, followed by stripping down Vautour and Pearl. Garofano had removed most of her clothes and only left the gown hanging for you to slip off, same with Sumire who was waiting for you to slide off her kimono. Last was Langley who patiently waited for her turn by removing her hat and tie, gesturing you to unbutton her shirt.

You watched in a daze as the naked bodies of the women around you came in view for you to feast on. You couldn't take your eyes off of them and felt arousal pool between your thighs already. Fantasies of flushed skin flooded your mind and left you senseless. You were numbed to the possibilities which sinfully awaited you, your body craved them but you were lost before hungry wolves, uncertain where to start. Cabernet's scarlet hair swept over the curve of her ass, and Vautour's pristine waist narrowed neatly into round hips.

You hid your eyes from the provoking sight but delighted in the sight of Pearl's smiling lips and noting the fullness of Chameleon's perfect breasts. There was nowhere to run, you were surrounded by unblemished soft skin and seductive gazes- each one all too eager to devour you whole. In the midst of such a marvelous scenery, you stood alone like a lone traveller, still clad in your uniform. By the time all of them were undressed, they were already focused on you.

"A-Ah, I will undress myself—!" you stuttered and started unbuttoning your shirt as fast as possible, but the women were faster and already had their hands on you.

"Leave it to us, Chief~" Sumire purred.

You felt all of them pull from different sides, making you anxious that the fabric would rip apart.

"Don't worry, Chief. I'll fix them later~" Garofano reassured.

As if using that as a signal, they applied for force and the sound of ripping rung in your ear as they actually tore away your shirt. Some of the buttons flew off as it was pulled from both sides then tossed away in the void. You couldn't help but feel shy and cover yourself as they gazed at your naked form, even though all of them had seen you this way plenty of times before.

"Ahh, Chief.... how delectable you look.... I can barely hold myself back anymore~" Cabernet moaned while sliding her hand down your neck, feeling up your skin. You were then shoved on the bed which was certainly not big enough for all of them, but perhaps they didn't care of the space at all. More hands caressed your pants and before you knew it, they were pulled off making you completely bare now. Cabernet was first to climb up and straddle you, her tongue lolling out as waiting to devour you.

"Now, wait a minute. What gives you the right to go first, Franc?" Eirene scolded and climbed up as well, straddling you beside Cabernet.

"Hmm, I don't need anyone's permission. Chief can't wait to have me, isn't that right, Chief?~"

Cabernet licked her lips and traced her thumb over yours.

"I don't recall her saying anything of that sort. She's my partner first, it's only right for me to start." Eirene countered.

"What makes you both think I'll give my sugar baby so easily? She only deserves to have me first." Chelsea added while climbing up and sitting on Cabernet's other side. The three of them surrounded you from the front completely, leaving no space at all except the back.

"Tsk tsk, if the three of you are so busy bickering, I suppose I'll have my share first~" Bai Yi spoke and swiftly moved behind you, wrapping her arms around your neck and kissing your shoulder.

You heard the bed creak as someone else climbed up and it was none other than Chameleon crawling to sit behind you as well. Her fingers grazed your nape and she leaned to nibble your left ear, making you softly gasp in return.

"Hehe, nobody knows her body the way I do. It's only appropriate for me to start first~"

"That's not necessarily the case. We have spent lot of time exploring each other's bodies, haven't we, honey?~" Lady Pearl cooed and squeezed in as well. You were surrounded by all sides now and there was no more space, but you couldn't ignore the other women who were looking at you in anticipating and waiting for their turn.

"L-Let's go one by one. I don't care who is first, I don't want any of you to feel unsatisfied...." you suggested.

Their eyes hooded with lust at your words, an unrestrained urge to devour you growing in them.

"Oh, Chief.... you are always so kind.... How do you expect us to hold in our desires if you say things like that?~" Garofano said in a singsong tone, her face flushed red.

"Indeed.... you make it so hard to satiate my hunger...." Cabernet moaned and finally drove forward to kiss your neck. Her action prompted others to also move in and kiss you on different parts- Eirene and Chelsea kissed along your chest, Chameleon and Bai Yi planted kisses on your face and ears, Lady Pearl tilted your head back and captured your lips while Vautour Bleu and Langley kissed along your arms. Garofano and Sumire wasted no time to kiss down your thighs, even making some bite marks on your flesh.

The sensations were overwhelming as you drowned in kisses and nips. Each of them felt as passionate and needy as the other, a sign of their desperation to mark you as theirs. Small moans and gasps left you lips at the various touches; Cabernet was licking up your neck like a starved puppy, Eirene and Chelsea played with your breasts while kissing over them, Bai Yi and Chameleon bit down and sucked on your upper back, Lady Pearl covered your face with kisses before biting on your nape, Vautour was sensually licking and sucking your finger while Langley trailed kisses up and down your hand.

"A-Ah.... wait.... I can't...." you moaned in pleasure, recoiling from all sides but being held back by Bai Yi, Chameleon and Lady Pearl behind you.

"Chief... you are so sweet... mmh~" Cabernet whispered against your skin.

"Just give yourselves to us~" Chameleon husked in your ear.

As the barrage of kisses and bites continued on your body, you suddenly heard the sound of fireworks going off outside. Everyone stopped for a moment to gaze upon the sparkling sight until looking back at you.

"Happy New Year, Chief~"

They said in unison, and you finally realized the extent of their surprise. Entering the new year like this wasn't bad, you thought....

Throughout the night, only the sweetest of moans and whimpers echoed in your ears, and only the most beautiful faces teeming in pleasure occupied your sight.

[mayaree-darling]

can you write me a claude fic? pwetttyy pleaseee beshiiiieeee 🥺HAHAHAHAHA

i need one im begging on my knees pleaaaseeeee 🫴

~ your lovely bestiee 🥰

all these (stupid) little things // claude de alger obelia

Pairing: Claude x Reader (ft. Toddler Athy and Felix)

synopsis: surely claude can enjoy some peace and quiet, right? surely nothing stupid will happen, right?

from mayaree: witch. you know i cant say no to u right now. hayyyssss 😒 everyone else can consider this my break time (who knew 32k words could be so taxing omg)

content: stupid fluff; toddler!athy coz she was so cute; no need to think about what point in the story this was: you guys are just a happy family and claude is still emotionally bankrupt

word count: 2k~

The breeze that came in through the window was warm. Maybe summer was rolling in quite early. Nearby trees tapped at the walls where it could hit, but it wasnt screeching to the ears. A part of him thinks they could be rain, but that would be stupid with all the sunlight pouring into his office and the heat coming in through his window. The muffled quiet was starting to get to him. He could feel his eyes getting heavier.

Claude never used to notice little things like this. It was always the pain in his chest that would never go away. The heaviness in his bones that never seemed to want to go away. And despite everything he did, there were also the thoughts that always seemed to stay. The things he noticed were all trapped in a mortal body and it was taking its toll on him.

Well, at least it used to.

Now, because of two little idiots who wormed their way into his life, he was thinking all these stupid thoughts, muffling everything else he felt and thought of. Noticing too many things. All of them so... stupid. Although he wouldn't so brazenly say it to the two idiots. Or maybe he should.

Another breeze passes by. His pen had stopped scratching on the document in front of him and was now making a large blotch on the paper. His eyes are closing.

"Claude!" "Papa!"

Ah. Speaking of those two idiots who wormed their way into his heart.

He pulls the pen away from the document - it was completely ruined, the ink gone and went tore right through it - and set it aside. He was completely awake now, hands coming up to rub at crystal eyes. Oh. In hindsight, you would get angry at him for doing that now that he thought about it.

Too late now.

The door all but bursts open as you and Athanasia make your way in. Felix, ever the dutiful soldier - to you and Athy now apparently, not Claude's - follows in your wake, a sheepish smile on his face as Claude glares at him. When his eyes turn to you and Athy, his face goes back to being blank, only a subtle softness to them almost none could have noticed. However, Felix picked up on it immediately, and assumed to stand behind Claude in the pretext of standing behind his superior; truthfully, he needed to hide his knowing smile lest he get another glare.

"What do the two of you want now?" he takes another piece of paper from the pile and starts working on it. Well at least now that he had that two of you around, he won't fall asleep. He starts working on it again.

From his peripheral, he sees you and Athanasia hesitate. You and the smaller girl share a look, suddenly the two of you were at a loss for words.

"Give us a minute."

To his surprise he watches as you both walk farther away from his desk and lean towards each other to share conspiratorial whispers.

"Mommy are we sure?"

"I'm not gonna lie, Athy, I'm starting to wonder about that, too."

"Maybe we shouldn't ask Papa."

"Yeah, I'm starting to think this was a bad decision."

"Yes, it's rather late to back out now," Claude doesn't even look up from his papers. "You barged into my office and now you're whispering to each other like I can't hear you."

A shiver crawls down both of your spines. You and Athy stand up straight, turning back to Claude with frozen smiles. He casts a lingering glance at the both of you, crystal eyes almost glowing, challenging. "If the two of you don't come closer, then you won't mind if I come and join you there, right?"

Athy hides behind you and almost to put the final nail into your coffin, she pushes you forward softly.

"Good luck, Mommy. Love you." Claude hears her whisper. Well, the first lamb was finally sent to the slaughter.

You suck in a breath and look at everything in the room except for him. "Ah. Well. Athy and I were just wondering. This is all hypothetical of course, so we were just curious-"

Not able to stand the tension, Athy pokes her head from behind you. "Would Papa still love Athy and Mommy if we were worms?" She waits for his answer patiently.

The silence was deafening in the room. Felix makes the mistake of letting out a muffled snort, but Claude is so surprised he doesn't even have the time to tell him off.

Apparently "wormed" their way in was far too appropriate a term.

Claude blinks. Once. Twice. Maybe the warm summer air really did get to him and he was dreaming. It would be a nonsensical one, and truthfully he hasn't had a dream in a while, but it would explain the absurdity of it all. But alas. He was very much awake and the two idiots had somehow found a way to be more idiotic.

"What do you mean by... worm?" He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He knew in his bones he wasn't going to like this conversation.

You roll your eyes and stop beating around the bush. With renewed confidence, you motion to Felix to help you move two chairs in front of Claude's table. Claude's frown twitches. Maybe it wasn't too late to pretend he was focusing on the papers after all. Maybe it would send the message that he didn't want to listen any further. "Don't pretend like you didn't just hear what I said, Your Majesty"

Or maybe it won't be too late to give the both of you back to where you came from.

...

On second thought, maybe just sending you back to your rooms would suffice.

"What do the both of you mean with... worm...?" he speaks slowly, purposefully. He hopes - wishes, at this point - that you would get the subtle threat underneath his voice if this conversation would carry on. However, you completely ignore it and turn to Athy with a pleasant smile.

"Athy, explain to your father what we meant by worm," your smile brightens impossibly more. In any normal - or as normal as it could be, considering it's you - circumstance, he would find himself staring, refusing to admit that he was admiring it. But right now he was finding it very hard to keep up with the ride of emotions he was currently experiencing for him to look at your smile.

Athy gapes at you for a second, giving Claude one terrified look - Claude returns it with a scowl - but she pushes through and he can only sigh more. Finally, Athy holds out her pointer finger and wiggles it like an incoming wave over and over again. "Like that."

"See? A worm." you turn back to Claude with a grin, not even trying to mask the mischief. "So, going back to our question."

Athy taps at her chin, gaining more confidence with you around. "Would you put Athy on a pillow and feed her desserts?"

"Why would I do that? What a waste of a good pillow." Claude sighs. "And what worm eats desserts?"

"Athy would!"

"Then would you put us in a pretty garden?" you ask, enjoying the conversation to your heart's content and ignoring your significant other's glare that was trying to pierce through you. Unfortunately, being in a relationship with said significant other had taught you to be as tough as nails once you started.

Claude closes his eyes, seemingly in pain. This talk was dealing him psychological damage more than necessary. "Let me rephrase my answer from earlier then. You'd eat too much."

"Papa can put us in a jar and make sure we have food!" Athy proposes, and you nod your head in agreement.

"Oh that would be nice! You can even put a bow around the jar so it would still look cute and homely." You smile serenely at the idea.

Claude goes back to his documents. He needed to block you out. Soon. Please. "I won't even put holes on the lid."

"Then we'd die, Claude." You sigh like it's the most obvious thing in the world. There's a pause and you blink in realization. "Oh. Anyway. What if you just-"

Claude puts his pen down. "Stop. Do you really want to know my answer? My true answer?"

You and Athy share excited grins before turning to him and nodding hurriedly.

"I would hate you both." He says calmly. "I'd throw you out the first chance I got. Call an exterminator. Fire the gardener while I'm at it for letting you into the palace, too."

You and Athy give out a sharp dramatic gasp at the same time, offended looks painted on your faces. Claude only offers a scoff. "I've been trying to give you hints this entire time and you missed almost all of them. Surely you don't expect me to take care of a couple of worms. I already can't handle you both as is."

It's your turn to scoff and you turn your head away from Claude like he was suddenly the worm. You hold out a hand to the young girl beside you. "Athy, come on, we're going on a picnic and he's not invited."

Athy gives quick nods of agreement, head turned away from Claude as well with wounded pride. Claude sighs. The both of you were so dramatic. He watches as you stand and head to the door before Athanasia stops and looks up at you.

"Can Felix come?" But Athy is already beckoning for the knight to come along.

You blink in realization and turn and beckon for him as well. "Yes, you're very invited to join us if you want, Felix."

"Oh, uh, well-" Felix could feel the tension from Claude, his superior giving him a quick glare in warning.

"You. Stand at the very back of the room." Claude doesn't look at you or Athanasia as you both whine at his orders, but he sighs again. He remembered Felix wasn't his knight anymore. "Keep 10 paces away from them."

"Yep. Understood." Felix stiffly walks closer to you and Athy, keeping a safe distance.

"Athy will save you a cupcake!"

Felix laughs hesitantly, "Thank you, princess."

"Don't save one for His Majesty. That's what he gets for not taking care of us if we were worms." You stick your tongue out at Claude, no matter how childish the action was.

"Right! No cupcakes for Papa!" Athy proclaims, and when she catches Claude's eyes on her again, she hides behind you once more as a shield.

Claude watches as you walk hand in smaller hand with Athy, exiting the room with Felix in tow. You order the knight not to close the door out of pettiness ("Let him get up and close it himself." Felix chokes but when Claude doesn't say anything, he follows your orders with a sheepish laugh.)

Claude hears you and Athy talk excitedly about what tea would match better with the desserts you were going to bring. He listened and waited for the footsteps to walk farther and farther away before letting out a breath.

His picks up his pen again, scratching away at the paper.

The breeze was warm. The sun shone high over head, but he knew that you would place yourselves underneath the larger trees in the garden, somewhere with lots of shade but just enough sunlight to break through the foliage. You'd eat through a concerning amount of dessert provided by the kitchen, readily made to accommodate Athanasia's sweet tooth. You'd have meaningless conversations that would go wherever, and come up with more stupid questions to ask him. Claude can already hear the sound of your laughter at the mere thought of it. He blinks. Did he actually hear you? He must be getting tired. Should he close the windows?

His pen scratches at the paper a few more lines. The breeze was warm, becoming stifling so. He sighs.

Claude stands up and only takes a minute to decide whether to clean up the papers or bring them with him so he had a proper excuse. But of course he didn't need an excuse.

Maybe he could pay his two little worms a visit.

✨ Masterlist ✨ KOFI/Commissions

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[wolfiesmoon]

A well-kept secret...

Alhaitham x gn!reader

the triumphant writing return of your favourite incompetent idiot🥰

as always i apologise if i get anything wrong lore-wise i'm not in sumeru yet on my acc and i don't want to spoil the story for myself so i'm going of pure vibes

"huh i could have sworn you wrote something like this before..." no i didn't here's 5000 bucks now shut up ...anyways, after getting re-obsessed w genshin i have decided to cook smth up for my alhaitham kissers😏😏😏😏 that and i've decided to watch a 20 h playthrough of the entirety of HSR bc neither my phone nor my laptop can handle that game and i want to see what comes after Jarilo (and i wanna write fics too come on)

ALSO HOW COULD I FORGET I FINALLY GOT NEUVILLETTE 🥰🤭😘😱😍🙏🏻💁‍♀️😍😘🤩🙂‍↕️😻😽😸🫦 HUBBYS HOME FR FR

The thing you could have never expected upon getting a job at the renowned Akademiya of Sumeru is that you would fall for the Akademiya's elusive scribe, Alhaitham.

It bothers you to no end that it just has to be him of all the people in Teyvat, since you know he'd never return your affections, even in a million years. He just isn't a man who places importance in romance, you've learned.

And even so, he doesn't seem to like you much in general. It's not that you're a bad person, not at all, you just kind of feel like he's slightly annoyed by your presence. You always catch the silent sigh that escapes his lips when you happen to have to deliver something to him and his replies are even more curt than usual when talking to you.

So you just watch him from afar, stealing occasional glances at him while he's face deep in a book or taking a leasurely nap by the window. It sort of makes you sad, as beautiful as the sight is.

You'd love to tell him how you love the way his fingers slide over the book spines as he's searching for just the right book to examine, or the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration as he's reading, or the way his chest slowly rises and falls when he's napping next to- Oh, now you're just making yourself even more miserable.

And though you already know what he'd say if you revealed your feelings towards him, you can't help but want to confess them all anyways.

You turn the corner, important scrolls that you're supposed to give to him in hand. You find Alhaitham slumped over his desk, seemingly asleep. It's a secluded, quiet corner of the Akademiya that you know he likes to take naps in, so it's not a surprising sight. In fact it's a very welcome one. Atleast for you.

You think about waking him up for a brief moment, but then decide that you'd rather not face his annoyed glare today. So you simply place the scrolls on the desk in front of him, hoping he'll notice them once he wakes up.

As you turn to leave, you suddenly get an idea. There might just be a way you can release your pent-up feelings for him without him ever knowing.

He's asleep right now, so there's no harm in a tiny little confession, right? It's not like he'll hear it anyways.

But then again, that's such a pathetic way of confessing that it actually hurts. What are you, a lovestruck teenager?

After a few seconds of your ego having an internal battle with your lovesick heart, the heart comes out the victor. You take a deep breath, deciding to make it quick because he may wake up any second.

"I'm in love with you and I wish you were mine." you blurt out somewhat awkwardly before turning on your heels and getting the hell out of there.

In fact, you left so fast that you failed to notice the way Alhaitham's cheeks dusted a light shade of pink and his eyes slowly opened, staring at the wall on his right.

"Mmmm..." he groaned, shoving his head into the crevice of his elbow that was laid out on the table.

.

Although you know that he never heard your confession, you still feel too giddy to approach him at all the next day. You've really just gone and did that, and looking at his face would be an all too vivid reminder of it.

"Here's the document the scribe requested this morning. He said you must deliver it to him." your coworker handed you a neat folder, tied with a colorful string.

Knowing there's no way you'd be able to face Alhaitham so soon, you asked your friend to do it for you, knowing she'd happily take a break from reviewing documents to deliver one instead.

And so your day continued on without a hitch and you slowly started to forget all about yesterday as you became engrossed in your work. Maybe it's better that way, after all.

As the day came to a close, you took one last overview of the work you've done just to make sure that everything has been translated properly before storing the documents away and turning around to head towards the exit.

However, you were jumpscared by someone standing right in front of you with his arms crossed. Your eyes met a pair of turquoise ones and you let out a stranged noise of surprise. It's Alhaitham in all his glory.

"Oh, it's you. Well, goodbye, I'll see you tommorow." you smiled at him as wide you possibly could, laughing awkwardly and walking around him, too flustered to wait for a reply from him.

"You didn't bring me the document." his voice stopped you in your tracks and you turned your head back to look at him. Have you forgotten something, after all? What document could he be- Oh, he means the one delivered by your friend.

"Oh, I got busy, so I asked my friend." you shrugged, wondering internally why he's even confronting you about this.

"It was an opportune... Hm. What's done is done." he makes a small pause before fully turning around to face you. "I heard your confession yesterday."

No. No way.

Okay, that's it. You're actually going to die now. And the blunt way he said it makes it so much worse. You knew you should have done it when he was wearing those soundproof earpieces of his. You cursed yourself out internally for not noticing that he wasn't wearing them back then.

"Heard what?" you decided to act dumb, though you're sure you sound anything but convincing right now.

"You said you're in love with me." his eyes narrowed slightly, but otherwise, his body language was the same as always. So that means you can't gauge his thoughts on the confession at all in order to act accordingly.

"What in the world are you talking about?" you kept up your act of innocence. You'd rather die than admit you actually said that to his face, while you thought he was asleep, no less.

"Hm. I never took you for a such cowardly person." He sighed, then continued. "You could blame it on the lack of interaction between us."

The sudden comment about your cowardice to admit to something you did was like a stab to the belly, but you quickly recovered, trying your best to not look offended. You thought he was the type of guy to avoid conversations about embarrasing things he overheard, or, well "unnecessary" things, as he would put it. He's never even initiated a conversation with you before, dammit.

"Ugh... so, are you mad about it?" you finally gave up on acting coy. Though you're sure you can answer your own question right now.

"What an... interesting hypothesis." Alhaitham closed his eyes, turning around. "Next time, make sure to do what I ask of you. It's simply for my own convenience." Then he just up and left, leaving you standing there like an idiot.

Really? That wasn't a proper answer at all. You would have thought he'd simply reject you if he really wanted things to be as convenient for him as possible. Giving you vague answers makes this convenient for neither of you.

But, then again... he didn't reject you right off the bat. That's something, right?

As much as Alhaitham called you out on your cowardice earlier, he found himself thinking that he's no better as he dropped onto his bed that night. How in the world is he supposed to admit to you that he wants you to deliver the documents that he needs because he enjoys looking at your face? How is he supposed to admit that he catches occasional glances of you too, sometimes? How is he supposed to admit to you that your mere presence clogs up the words in his throat, making him unable to speak as eloquently as he wants?

How is he supposed to admit to you that your little confession yesterday just ruined his ability to think rationally, that you made him broken beyond repair?

"Ugh, how bothersome..." he pinches the bridge of his nose. He hates how irrational love is.

[hollaforlyla]

Hey love, hope your all right. So Hoe about dazai with an s/o who always acts cheery and all childish like him in order to hide their immense trauma. So whenever someone scolds Them bit too loud reader flinches but again brushes it off?? ❤️

SRRY IS THIS TOO LIKE ANGSTY I RLLY AM CRAVING FOR HURT TO COMFORT RN----

You don't have to do it BTW ^^

"it's okay... to not feel happy all the time."

taglist : @justcallmesakira @riiwrites @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie

warnings : angst to comfort, lowercase writing, cursing, mention of past abuse, evil exes(heheh scott pilgrim), kunikida is SOOOO out of character holy shiiitttt (╥﹏╥) not proofread, sorry!!

HAII BABEEEE!!! consider your cravings feed!! i'm actually like this irl omg is that why i'm so excited to write this???? hope you enjoy

i love dazai so much :( my back hurts from slouchinggg i'll have back problems by the time i'm fricking twenty!!!!

osamu dazai x gn reader

dazai

HEADCANONS ₊˚ෆ

you are so cute.

almost everyday is a new adventure for him when he's with you.

he's the first thing you see in the morning.

he opens his eyes and your all in his face like; "hi, sisters!!" and he literally shrieks, but don't tell anybody.

you start tickle fights with him all the time when you seem to be in an upset mood or just want to hear him laugh, but can you ever win?

he will play along with you because too be honest; he is just as childish as you are from time to time. ESPECIALLY when he's with you!!

you grab his arm a lot and jump up and down when something really gets you excited.

once, kunikida agreed to use his card to buy you some ice cream at the fair and you grabbed onto dazai's arm and almost slapped him in the face with his own hand.

he's never really understood why you get so like that over something so childish.

be glad it's not fyodor; SHEESH.

until, one evening.

you screwed up on a mission with atsushi; too which caused kunikida to throw his anger out on you. all the two of you were ordered to do, was to steal the documents you were ordered to retrieve in order to take down this small organization of scary gifted (not the port guys; •⤙•)

atsushi had to save you from a sudden attack, injuring him in the process, having no other choice but to retreat.

yosano treated him up right away.

atsushi noticed the way your arms would flinch up to your face each time kunikida would raise his voice, but honestly kunikida was just ranting about how stupid it was for you to get distracted over such a childish thing like a stray kitten.

he gave kunikida a look, saying to calm down and just go rage somewhere else without having you in the room.

after that you mentioned none of this to dazai; however atsushi thought telling him the way you reacted would be the right thing to do as both your friends.

SCENARIO ₊˚ෆ

"HOW can you be so careless, y/n?!"

it was almost like you felt a knife stab through your rib.

over and over for the past couple minutes kunikida has been going off about you getting distracted on the mission you and your weretiger friend, atsushi nakajima, were assigned on.

"i thought you would be perfect for this job because of how focused you were on all our other missions. WHAT HAPPENED?"

you gulped on your spit, your arms shalking from the once again booming voice come from kunikida.

it was a simple mistake-

"SIMPLE??"

atsushi side eyed you to see how you were holding as he was just awkwardly standing beside you as kunikida continued to just shout at you.

he would noticed your lips tremble ever so slightly, you head held down low as your fingers played with the fabric of your pants as you plucked up the courage to finally speak; "i'm sorry, kunikida. i didn't mean to screw up-"

"we'll, you wouldn't have to be sorry if you had just DONE YOUR JOB!"

your eyes were fixated on the floor still as you took in a deep breath, "jesus, i knew you were childish, but y/n what the fuck!?"

he swore.

atushsi was also getting a bit uncomfortable at kunikida's screaming session.

"atsushi got hurt on this mission, y/n, because you!"

without another word, you ran past atsushi who reached out t grab you back, however kunikida told him to let you go as he sat at his desk, removing his glasses, rubbing the bridge is nose.

with a frown he watched as you ran, looking at the carpeted floor to notice some tear stains following the exit.

you ran.

and ran, and ran, and ran.

into on coming traffic, past strangers who complained when you accidently bumped into them, and to yours and dazai's apartment.

there you were now. standing in the lobby of the apartment, the security guard awkwardly looking at you as you entered the elevator that has opened after a couple of seconds of waiting.

you used the mirror to look at yourself in as you quickly tried to wipe the tears away from your face, and maybe any makeup you may have had on? does it matter, it all melted away anyways!

your floor arrived, and the ding from the elevator dinged as you exit it and slowly walk toward the door of your home.

you fumbled for your keys that were in your pocket, even after all that running and bumping you did to get here, hands shaking with fear.

kunikida's voice echoed through your head; "are you really that childish? he never seemed to care...why does he have to shout?? there's no need for it, no? and even atsushi was there, double the embarrassment!!"

"'donna!?"

dazai's voice rang through your head as you looked up at him at the door step. oh, right, you unlocked the door but have yet to open it, causing osamu to do it for you.

"i thought you were at work, your shift doesn't end till..oh, well you still have 35 minutes?"

you pushed the thoughts in your head in the back of your mind, and gave him the biggest smile you could muster and hugged him, giggling and spinning around until you reached inside.

"don't worry, i just felt like coming home early to see my handsome and amazing boyfriend, who promised me ice cream waffles when i did get home!"

dazai chuckled, grabbing you by the waist and using his foot to close the door, managing to keep you in the air with one hand as he quickly used the other one to lock the door behind the two of you.

"well, i can tell someone's been excited all day?" you giggled, although your throat hurts from crying so much on the way here, dazai hadn't had seem to notice.

or so you think.

he placed you on the couch, gently kissing your lips before slowly pulling away. your eyes were still closed as he did and a smile on your face.

"feel free to choose whatever you like, my dear~" he taps the remote for the tv on your head and hands it to you; "well thank you kindly, my...man?"

he smiled at your cute comeback, causing you both to giggle as he walked to the kitchen.

you could hear him to rattle around with the toaster and opening and closing of fridges and freezers, probably for the ice cream.

when he was out of sight, you checked to feel anymore tears on your eyes and sniffled softly, not knowing dazai had already figured everything out.

"so, how was my sweethearts day, today? make any new friends?"

you chuckled, knowing he meant about the stray kittens you always seem to run to.

"it was alright, what about yours?" you tried to change the focus onto him, but he was smarter then that.

"mm, boring without my angel. day-off's are so sad without you," you heard the sound of the waffle popping out of the toaster, "didn't you have that mission today with atsushi? tell me, how did that go?

he expected the sudden silence that had filled the room. he scooped vanilla ice-cream into a small bowl for you; and only you, as he hummed.

"'donna, don't go quiet now. talk to me..."

you felt the tears roll back again. it was that voice that made you all emotional again. it was so soft and gentle, almost as if he's whispering into your when he's on the opposite of the room.

you took a shaky deep breath in as you stopped clicking the buttons on the remote, you stared at it, your hands shaking once again as you tried to control your crying.

dazai had a blank face was he added whip cream to top of the dish, and finally emerged from the kitchen...his eyes immediately on your figure which was seated on the couch, right where he left you, however your cute and childish personality wasn't.

he slowly walked over to you, his eyes drifting away from you to place the bowl on the table in front of you. you looked down to take a look at the dish; it was a waffle and ice cream scooped into it, like it's own bowl, and whip cream on the sides to give it the mountain shape, "you can do more then stare at it, ya'know?" he smiled, sitting beside you suddenly and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

you felt yourself suddenly start crying; to which he pouts at; "it was first mission, darling, there will always be more-"

"IT'S NOT ABOUT ME FAILING IT!"

he looked at you like wide eyes and nod; "something more?"

you sighed loudly and hugged yourself, "it's just-" you kept stuttering due to your lack of breath from your sobbing,

"take your time, it's alright." he gently scratches your scalp to sooth you.

"kunikida...gohot so mahad...he...he yelled, he swore at him, he got close to my face...ahand the..thehe thoughts..ihi..ihi could only thihink abouhut my ex...whoho would do the sahame when i screhw something uhup.."

although you kept sniffling and breathing hard through, dazai understood each and every word.

his hands moved to rub the back of your neck, as his other held your hand tightly as you cuddled into him, your tears staining his dress shirt.

"ihi...just got schahared...ihi just whanted to...to have you...buhut i didn't want to bohother you with my prohoblems.."

dazai couldn't believe was he was hearing.

you, giving him problems about your mental health? what are you, MAD?? no, just insecure. which he understood completely.

"may i?" he asks, taking your cheeks in his one palm, making you look at him. not knowing what you agreeing to, he suddenly pulls you in for a tender, soft kiss.

you almost forgot what his kisses felt like, all the memories of your ex made you almost forget you have found somebody new, who will never, ever, want to hurt you without having any sense of what he's talking about.

moments later, he pulled away, placing his forehead to yours's as tears spilled from your eyes; however these were the tears that brought joy and happiness to your relationship.

he was never good with the words of comfort, however this is the reason why he is learning to be better, for you.

"there are bad, bad people in this world, and sometimes they change, some don't. i would know, but that doesn't mean everyone has such an evil heart. like you.." he chuckled, poking your chest, "you have such a pure heart, only the kindest of souls could ever have a chance to ever get close to it and open up to it. kunikida is just a grumpy man, when things don't go as planned he just goes.."

dazai circled his finger by his temple, causing that adorable smile to appear on your face.

"oh, there's that smiiile~" he laughed as he suddenly dig his long fingers into your soft sides, causing you to squeal and laugh immediately, "theres that smile, yeaah, awh~ your so cute, i could just eat you up-"

"DAHAZAI!"

you screeched when he nibbles on your neck, now tickling your upper ribs as well.

all those nasty thoughts that were in the back of your mind, dazai has a way of taking them and tossing them out the window and making sure you go to sleep with that cute smile on your face every night.

[tc-doherty]

TC's Practical Writing Tips

Like I said before, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that I can teach anyone how to write – that's a level of hubris even I'm not capable of –but in honor of my rapidly approaching ~quarter century of writing original fiction anniversary~, I did figure I would share the tips that I live by when it comes to the act of writing.

So without further ado:

Write it now, fix it later

2. It is always permissible – and usually enjoyable – to write the stupidest possible version

3. "Inspiration" is great for poets, but poison for people who write prose

3.1: if you want to write often, you need to write often, and then you will find that you don't need to be "inspired" because you will have made a habit of it and it will come naturally 3.2: even one sentence a day is still one sentence a day. And even one sentence a week is still one sentence a week. It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop 3.3: believing in the concept that you need to be inspired to write will trap you into believing in the concept of writer's block 3.4: if you are having difficulty getting out words that satisfy you, lower your standards and keep writing (see point one)

4. A few months down the line you will not remember which words came easily and which words did not

5. It is always permissible to set a project aside for now, or forever, if you need a break

6. Read widely and often, both in your favorite genres and outside of them

6.1: pay special attention to both things that you love and things that you hate - study them, engage with them, learn what makes yourself tick and your writing can only get stronger

7. Never write for the lowest common denominator, via wise words I once heard: "if you open the window and make love to the world, your story will get pneumonia", have an audience in mind and the people who like what you write will find it

8. Never write for the bad faith critic, those people will always exist and you will need to deal with them at some point if you put your writing in the world, but they don't matter and you cannot live in fear of them

9. It's fine and normal to want engagement and praise, however you must find a way to make the act of writing joyful in and of itself – make the praise the cherry on top, not the entire sunday

9.1: writing is hard work, and it's a lot of work, if you lose the ability to enjoy the journey and are proceeding only for external rewards from others, you will gradually write less and less if the ratio of work to rewards is unsatisfying

10. For anything other than final copy editing, always write a new draft into a new document, or else the words you have already written will trap you from being able to make large, sweeping changes

10.1: any change you make will invariably snowball, and you must give space for that snowball to roll

11. If someone tells you that something doesn't work for them, believe them, because people know what they like. But if people try to tell you what to do to fix it, take that with an entire serving of salt because you are the author, not them

12. It is always morally correct to look at a critique that you received, even if you asked for opinions via beta reading, and decide that it's bullshit and doesn't apply to you

13. "write what you know" means "write what you're interested in"

14. "Show don't tell" applies to screenwriting, not novels. This is the thing that drives me the most insane every time I see it. Novels are words on a page, not images on a screen. They require a lot of telling. Not all telling, but a lot of telling. Become comfortable with that.

15. It is always, ALWAYS acceptable to use "said", do not listen to the lies of others

16. Have fun, do it out of love and you will never go astray

17. Become comfortable with who you are. Your work is always going to be yours and it is always going to sound like you wrote it, and this is a good thing! No one else is ever going to write exactly like you, and you should be proud of that

17.1: the concept of "originality" is vastly overrated, every culture has some version of Cinderella and we still love it. Your writing is yours because you wrote it, and it will always be unique because of that

[fandomsimagined]

Don't Go Dark - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Title: Don't Go Dark

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Female!Reader

Summary: Kaz Brekker realizes that he has feelings for his healer.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: What you could expect from Six of Crows

A/N: This is my first time writing for Kaz, so if it's out of character, I apologize. I kind of gave up and phoned it in at the end so if you can tell, I'm sorry. Very loosely inspired by the song Don't Go Dark by Bleachers.

For most of his life, Kaz Brekker called the Barrel home–despite the fact that there was really nothing homey about it–and there was one thing that he knew for certain about the dreadful place: that it always had a tendency to contort even the purest of things into something nasty. No one was good-natured for the sake of it. If someone was kind, it was usually a ploy, as he very well knew. That was one of his first lessons in survival. Love was a weakness that oftentimes had disastrous consequences. The only thing to come from the Barrel was carnage. The currency was blood, and he’d paid his share and then some with his own, and with others. Only the most ruthless and ungodly people prospered, and prosper he did. 

Believe it or not, he did remember the short life he had before the Barrel. He remembered his father and their farm, and he remembered after his father died when Jordie sold the farm with the promise that they would find fortune in Ketterdam. That was when he’d learned the most valuable lesson that there was to learn. That the only person he could truly count on was himself. To love nothing and trust no one. If he loved nothing, then there was nothing to be used against him. Nothing that anyone could take from him. It got lonely, but it had kept him alive for this long, a feat not many accomplished, so that was how he lived. 

She was different. She didn’t live under the same guise of violence as the rest of Ketterdam. She didn’t have the same mentality: that things can always–and most likely will–get worse. She didn’t hold grudges. Not like Kaz did. Kaz was fueled by vengeance and spite. He took whatever was thrown at him in stride with the knowledge that he would find vindication by dealing a much harsher punishment. 

The winter chill bit to the bone, an unfortunate truth for Kaz especially, whose bones were already not in well-working order. His limp was more pronounced as he made his way to his office (formerly Haskell’s). The Dregs were still bustling about, doing Saints knows what, but none would bother him. It was late, the state of his face was less pristine than when he’d left, and his permanent scowl was even more noticeable than usual. No, they would leave him be.

The meeting with the Razorgulls had gone as well as he’d expected, which was not well at all. They weren’t too happy to see him, still holding a grudge over Pekka Rollins’ quite unfortunate downfall. They’d landed a couple of punches, but he always had the upper hand, and they were smart enough when it was over to abandon Fifth Harbor entirely.

His office door was slightly ajar, something that didn’t bode well. He knew that the healer would be waiting for him, but she was never so careless to leave the door open, as there were quite a few documents and collectibles that he preferred to keep away from the other Dregs. 

He pushed the rickety door open and immediately he could feel that something was off. She was sitting in the extra wooden chair that he kept there (mostly for her and Jesper since he rarely gave anyone else the privilege to stay in his office for long periods). He sat in his desk chair, his gloved fingers thumbing through the papers that he’d left. Nothing important, just something to keep him occupied. 

Kaz Brekker noticed everything; meaning that Kaz Brekker noticed her trembling hands, though she tried to disguise it by keeping them folded in her lap. He noticed her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks that she’d tried to hide, and he noticed that she was jumpier than usual. Something had happened, that much was obvious, but he wouldn’t push. If she wanted to talk, she would, otherwise, it was none of his concern. Though, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger at the mere idea of anything happening to her.

“Again? Kaz, you really should be more careful.” It was no surprise that she was born a healer. It was quite literally in her nature to be caring. She was born to fix things. 

“Why? If I were to die tomorrow, all of Ketterdam would breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe even cheers to the occasion,” Kaz scoffed. It sounded grim, but it meant that he was good at what he did, so he saw it as an honor of sorts. He was in control.

“I wouldn’t.” She frowned. She moved to stand above him, getting leverage so she could properly heal his face. Her lips were pursed in concentration as her fingers hovered over a gash on his cheek. It was a strange feeling. It was like he could feel the skin stitching back together as she worked. It was like an itch. “I quite like having you around.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” Kaz raised his eyebrows, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “What are you getting at? A raise?” 

“Oh please, why would I even bother trying to flatter you?” She rolled her eyes. “Not when I know all I have to do is compliment Jesper’s hat, give him a few kruge to gamble away, and he’ll talk you into whatever I want.”

“And here I thought that you were too soft for the Barrel.” Kaz smirked. 

“I’m serious, what are you going to do if I’m not around to fix you up?” 

He thought about the statement carefully. The implication of the words. That was the confirmation he needed to push for further information. She’d opened the door. “Are you planning on going somewhere?” Maybe that’s why she was acting so strange. She seemed like the type to get all weepy about leaving. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea himself. It would be harrowing work trying to find a new healer. Especially a trustworthy one, but he wouldn’t stop her if that’s what she wanted. He just wouldn’t pretend to be happy about either.

“No!” She exclaimed quickly. “No, of course not.” Her quick response and furrowed brow were a relief. She wasn’t planning on leaving him. Not yet, anyway. 

“Well, if you’re not planning on leaving, then I suppose I don’t have to worry about it then, do I?” Kaz spoke bluntly, though he supposed if she listened close enough, she would hear the twinge of satisfaction hidden beneath. It was selfish. Ketterdam was a grim place, but he didn’t want her to leave. She made it a little less grim. 

Her fingers moved eloquently, drifting over his broken nose, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her palm. It did him well not to think about how close she was to him. It would probably send him into fight-or-flight mode if he did. 

He winced as he felt the bone setting back into place. It was nothing that hadn’t happened before, though he wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to the damn itch that plagued the area as she was working her magic. That wasn’t what bothered him, though. What bothered him was that she hadn’t spoken again, something that was quite unlike her. Normally she would be scolding him or telling him all about whatever had happened at the Crow Club that afternoon. No, she hadn’t spoken and she hadn’t provided any elaboration to her previous statement. 

“Is everything alright?” He pressed further. If it was anyone else, he would’ve left it be. A problem for another day, but this wasn’t anyone else. 

“No… I mean…” She started and paused, turning to face the wall to her side as if avoiding looking at him. He was relieved that she wasn’t planning on leaving the Dregs just yet, but there was something bothering her and he couldn’t deny being slightly concerned about what it was. Had something happened at the club while he was gone? Surely one of the others downstairs would have mentioned something to him when he walked in if it had. But, there was no way to be sure. 

She turned back to face him, taking a shaky breath as if trying to figure out what to say. “This afternoon while I was on my way to the club, a man grabbed me. Put a knife to my throat and said that if I didn’t give him all of my kruge, then he would slit my throat, watch me bleed out, and then take it all anyways. It wasn’t even much, just seventeen, but he was willing to kill me for it.” He clenched his jaw as she recounted the story. He wouldn’t interrupt, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t already plotting on what he would do when he found the bastard. She reached up to fiddle with the necklace chain that she always wore, but it was missing. He’d taken her locket too.

“I was sure he would kill me even if I gave it to him, I saw his face for Saints’ sake, but I just… It made me think about if something had happened to me, then who would be here to make sure that you didn’t get yourself killed? I mean, you’ve almost done it several times with me here and I’m one of the best healers in Kerch, not to pat myself on the back or anything…” She was one of the best healers in Kerch. That was why he’d recruited her in the first place, and that was why she was under his protection. Though, he thought that she might’ve been exaggerating. He was pretty sure, he only almost died twice, and only once was his fault. 

“Who was it?” Kaz said through gritted teeth. It was unlikely that it was anyone from a rival gang. It wasn’t a secret that she was associated with the Dregs and they weren’t stupid. Pulling a stunt like that would start a war, especially since it was in Fifth Harbor. That was his territory. No, the only one that bold would be the Dime Lions, but they would’ve killed her to send a message. This was probably some random person off of the street if he had to guess. Looking for a quick buck, so they thought why not steal it? What they didn’t know was that they’d stolen it from the wrong woman. 

“Kaz-”

“Who was it?” He repeated. 

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, that I might not be here next time you decide to go and get yourself all bloodied up, and what if it’s more serious next time?” He didn’t like the way that she was talking so casually about the prospect of dying. Like it was inevitable, and she was making her final arrangements before she went. 

“Listen to me carefully. Nothing’s going to happen to you because I won’t let it.” It was a statement not a question. He would make sure to get the message across that not only was she associated with the Dregs, but she was under the protection of Dirtyhands himself, and he would make sure to send a very clear warning as to what would happen should anyone get the bright idea to lay a finger on his crew again. 

“You’re not always going to be there to protect me, Kaz. We all know it’s only a matter of time. People like me don’t make it very long  here. I’m not strong, or smart, or resourceful enough…” Her eyes were glassy, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes. He was confused. None of those things could have been farther from the truth. She may have been soft, sure, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t smart or strong. She had to be strong to have put up with him for so long. He wasn’t known to be the most facile person in the world. 

“Nothing is going to happen to you.” Kaz’s voice was gravelly. It was rough. In fact, he’d often heard it described as the voice of a demon, or the devil himself. There was nothing soothing about it, yet he saw her shoulders slump in what seemed to be relief. That even though the Saints had never looked out for her, he would. 

She didn’t say anything else. Neither did he. That was that. There was nothing left to be said. He didn’t make promises that he didn’t intend to keep. He lied, he stole, he killed, but he didn’t break his promises. And there wasn’t a promise that he ever intended to keep more than that one. 

She silently worked on mending the split on his cheek. The Razorgulls had gotten a couple of good shots in. More than he thought, and he was starting to feel it, though he wouldn’t for long. 

“Stay at the Slat tonight.” He finally broke the silence. She didn’t live far, but clearly she wasn’t safe and he couldn’t have that.

“What?” She shot him a puzzled look. It was seemingly out of the blue, and he didn’t exactly give much room for any discussion. 

“I want you to stay at the Slat tonight. It’s late, you shouldn’t walk home in the dark.” 

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

Kaz perused the selection at Alwynn’s pawn shop. When he’d noticed that her necklace had been stolen, he knew that it had probably ended up in a pawn shop somewhere. No one stole jewelry off of ladies on the street to wear. No, clearly he needed money. 

He’d expected to have to go to more than one shop to find any relevant information, but no. It was almost too easy. He’d spotted the necklace on a display in  the front of the store. He recognized it immediately. The dainty gold chain could’ve easily been confused, but the locket that dangled from it, couldn’t be. 

“Mr. Brekker, I didn’t think of you as the jewelry type,” Alwynn gave a short laugh. 

“Well, Alwynn, there are quite a few things you don’t know about me.” 

“That, I’m sure of.”

“How much did you buy it for?” Kaz inquired.

“Bought it for twenty-five. Selling it for forty-two.” Kaz wasn’t surprised. Alwynn had always been a crook. 

“Who brought it in?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t say. Merchant-client privilege, I’m sure you understand.” Alwynn appeared nervous now. Good.

“I’ll pay double the price.”

Alwynn thought for a moment. “His name’s Griffin. He came in yesterday afternoon. He’s been staying in the alley beside Burke’s.” 

“Thank you, Alwynn. It’s been a pleasure as always.” He was well aware that he probably could’ve stolen the necklace or threatened him without spending the kruge, but he decided to, for once, pick his battles. He slid over the proper amount of kruge before making his way to the door.

Kaz found Griffin exactly where Alwynn said he would be.He’d clearly been staying there, the pile of rags on the ground and empty bottles were scattered beside them. He almost felt sorry for him. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Kaz approached Griffin, making his presence known. The man, probably around twenty or so, must have been at least a little intelligent, because his expression was a mixture of fear and confusion. 

“Good evening Griffin,” Kaz crooned. “You know, I heard from a close source of mine that you met a lady around this area yesterday afternoon.” 

“I meet a lot of ladies around here.” Griffin scoffed.

“Well, this particular lady said that you threatened her. Stole her money and a necklace. Surely you would remember that. Unless, you make a habit out of stealing from women. Do you?”

“What?” 

“Do you only target women to  pay for your alcohol addiction, or was this particular lady just a special case?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sputtered. 

“How much did you take?” Kaz growled, ignoring the obvious lie that had escaped from his mouth. He didn’t need an answer. He already knew. 17 kruge and her necklace (which he’d gotten thirty-five for at the shop), but he wanted to hear him admit it. 

“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even if Kaz didn’t already know he was lying, it wouldn’t have been hard to tell. The sweat beading at his forehead, the way his eyes darted, the fact that he had around fifty-two kruge worth of bottles at his feet. It was too easy. 

“This wouldn’t happen to jog your memory would it?” Kaz held the chain out. Griffin’s face went pale. It was as if all of the color had simply vanished. “So, I’ll ask again: how much did you take?” 

“Not a lot, just seventeen kruge, and I’ll-”

“You’ll pay it back. In fact, you’re going to pay back the seventeen that you stole, the eighty-four I had to pay to buy the necklace back from the crook you sold it to, and an extra thirty kruge for making me get out in this dreadful cold to track down you and this necklace.” Kaz felt it to be a fair trade. For him at least. 

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Well, I suggest that you find it before the week is out. Paid in full, and after that, I don’t want to see you back in Fifth Harbor again, and if I do, I’ll make sure that you end up at the bottom of the Harbor.” He turned to walk back towards the street, but he turned back before he got there. He swung his cane, hard, at Griffin’s right hand–his dominant one–earning a howl of pain. “Next time you decide to steal jewelry from a woman on the street, I would suggest selling it to a shop that’s not only a few feet away from where you’re staying.” 

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

“What’s this?” She looked puzzled at the pouch of kruge that he’d dropped on the table in front of her. Kaz didn’t answer, and realization flooded over her face. “Kaz…” she gave him a stern look. “You didn’t kill him, did you? I would feel really guilty if you killed him.”

“Relax, I didn’t kill him.” Kaz scowled. “But, he won’t be bothering you or anyone else around Fifth Harbor anymore.”

“That really makes it sound like you killed him…”

“I did not kill him. I simply reminded him that it’s not very polite to threaten women.” Kaz rolled his eyes. “Besides, if I’d killed him, I wouldn’t have gotten this back, would I?” He draped the gold chain over his gloved fingers. It was beside the point that he’d found the necklace before he’d found Griffin, and that he could’ve easily gotten it back had he killed him. She didn’t need to know that. 

“You got my locket back?” She gasped in disbelief. She took the chain, eyes wide. “How? Wait…” she paused. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“I’ll have you know that you’re missing out on quite the lovely story, then,” Kaz teased. 

“I’m sure. I think it’ll be far lovelier if I never find out, though.” She chuckled. “Because something tells me it involved some of your more extreme measures.”

“Not extreme enough if you ask me. He got to keep all of his fingers. You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re making me soft.”

“Thank you.” She offered him a gracious smile. 

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

Kaz had never been one to fear others. He was fairly confident in his ability to fight his way out of a skirmish, should one come up, so why would he? He’d fought off far more men than the three in front of him on his own. What could he have to fear?

He had never been afraid, but all it took was a few goddamn words and his blood turned to ice. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to that healer of yours, wouldn’t it?” A threat. A barely subtle attempt at one. In any other case, he probably would’ve laughed it off. Come up with some witty response. He didn’t have it in him. What if it wasn’t a bluff?

“If you touch her, I swear to you, I’ll gut you,” Kaz snarled. It wasn’t the smartest move. Now, there was no doubt that he cared. That they could use her against him. 

“The Bastard of the Barrel does have a heart, eh?” Rowell sneered. His last encounter with the Razorgulls hadn’t ended as smoothly as he’d hoped. They’d gone searching on him. Trying to find–well he supposed they did���find leverage. They’d finally found Kaz Brekker’s weakness. 

The words echoed through Kaz’s head. “Rowell, if you touch her, I can always pay a visit to Broad Street. I seem to recall that’s where your wife and daughter are? If I find out any of your men touched my healer, I’ll put a bullet in their heads myself.” He was good for it. Rowell knew it. He had never been above killing, and that was when he didn’t have something to lose. 

Rowell’s face contorted in alarm. Kaz knew where his family was. Kaz had just as much leverage as he did. The only difference was Kaz was far more ruthless than Rowell ever imagined. 

“You may think you’ve found my weakness, Rowell, and maybe you have, but you should know by now that I don’t respond well to threats. If you’re going to do something, do it. Otherwise don’t waste my time and your breath just telling me about it.” With that, Kaz began his trek back to the Slat. For the first time in quite a long time, he was scared. They could very well call his bluff. By this point, Rowell could have already gotten to her by now. He’d spent so much of his time focusing on protecting her from the Barrel, that he’d forgotten that association with Kaz Brekker was the biggest threat of all. 

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It had been weeks since Rowell’s threat. He hadn’t taken it lightly. He didn’t think Rowell was brave enough to do anything, but if he’d noticed, it was only a matter of time before others would too, if they hadn’t already. 

He’d decided to keep his distance. That was the only way he knew how to keep her safe. Kaz Brekker was the most feared man in the Barrel because he had nothing to lose. If it came out that he did in fact care for anything… well he had a lot of enemies that would waste no time doing everything in their power to take it from him. 

He’d been avoiding her altogether. She was hurt. He knew that. It was better for her to be hurt than dead. 

He was making his way up the stairs to his study, ready to shut himself for the night to plan for the upcoming job he’d secured. It was nothing big, probably him, Jesper, and a couple of the newer recruits for the Dregs. Test their loyalty before anything major. 

He saw her near the bar talking to Jesper, laughing at something he’d said. He swiftly turned away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Xavier (ironically one of the new recruits he was planning to take) grab at her waist. He was quite intoxicated, slurring a remark that he couldn’t hear, but was almost certainly derogatory. She politely pushed him aside, muttering a soft ‘no thank you’, but Xavier wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

Kaz didn’t even have time to think, really. He didn’t have to think. It was instinct. He ignored the pain in his leg and crossed the room. He’d never been the biggest fan of Xavier, so he didn’t feel too guilty about the punch that landed on the boy’s jaw. His knuckles throbbed from the contact, but he ignored it. When Xavier offered to try and return the blow, Kaz dodged the jab and cracked his cane over his back. 

“This is a respectable establishment, and that means when a woman says ‘no’ that’s the end of the discussion.” 

Kaz avoided her gaze, and made his way up to his study, but he was followed. 

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Kaz muttered, sitting in his chair, finally resting his leg. 

“You’ve spent weeks acting like I don’t exist, and now you’re getting in bar fights to defend me? And what? You’re just going to go back to ignoring me?” She was hardly a confrontational person, so Kaz knew that she was angry by the sudden outburst. “I don’t get it. What did I do to make you decide that you hate me?” 

Surely she didn’t really believe that he hated her. “I don’t hate you.” He still didn’t look up. 

“So, what is it then?” She was blinking back tears. He felt guilty, a feeling that he didn’t even know he was capable of. 

“You seriously don’t get it?”

“No, I don’t get it!” She shouted. 

“I care about you!” He blurted. “Far more than I should.” His confession earned a scoff. “You don’t believe me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “No, I don’t believe you. Why would I?”

“Why? What would I possibly have to gain from lying to you about that?”

“I don’t know, but I never know anything with you!” 

“Fine, if you don’t believe me, then go. If you think I’m lying then why are you still here?” He didn’t believe that she didn’t believe him. She wasn’t stupid. He knew she wasn’t. 

“I just want to know why! Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I already told you the truth, so what do you want from me?” Kaz suddenly felt defensive. “I care about you, and people noticed. Rowell threatened you straight to my face, and I realized that if people thought that you meant anything to me, then they’d come after you. They’d kill you to get to me, and that can’t happen.” 

“So, it was that easy then? You got scared that someone was going to come after me so you decided to just stop caring? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“That is not what I said. What I said was that if they thought that you were important to me, they would come for you. I never said that meant I stopped caring.” Kaz huffed. “This is the only way that I can be sure you’re safe.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I have a stake in this too?” She was letting the tears fall freely now. “I don’t care who comes after me.”

“I can’t lose you.” Kaz shook his head. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I can’t guarantee that people won’t come for you. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I haven’t exactly made a good reputation my priority.” Kaz attempted a joke, but really it served more as a warning. A glimpse into what being close to him would entail, which would mean always looking over your shoulder. 

“Believe it or not, I have actually caught on to that part…” She let out a soft chuckle. 

He reached up, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. He took the opportunity to rest his gloved hand on her cheek. He felt his body tense. His hand fell. Flashes of the nightmare that he’d endured. Jordie’s cold grey skin. The smell of waterlogged rotten flesh. It was as if he was back in the harbor. Surrounded by nothing but death and decay. 

She seemed to notice his ordeal. Concern flashed through her eyes. “Are you feeling alright, Kaz?” He’d never told her about his brother. He’d never told anyone, really. As far as he was concerned, Kaz Rietveld had died in that harbor, but that wasn’t all true. If it had, he wouldn’t be damn near hyperventilating because he’d touched her. It was stupid. He was stupid. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. She probably thought he’d lost his mind.

“I think you need to rest,” she suggested. “I’ll run downstairs and grab you some water, I’ll be right-” 

“No.” His voice came out hoarse. 

“Kaz, you look like you’re about to pass out, I think you should drink something.” 

“I want you to stay.” He sounded needy like a child and he hated it, but he also meant every word. “Please stay.” He grabbed her hand. Only this time, it was easier. He wasn’t thinking about death and despair. He wasn’t thinking about Jordie. He was thinking about her.