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solxamber · 2 days ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: Falling for the Sun in a Cold Empire || Kalim Al-Asim

You lose everything you've worked after getting transported to the novel that you read when you were a teenager after a freak accident. As the villainess.

It's time to rebuild yourself, one step at a time with a little help from Kalim Al-Asim, your betrothed.

This one isn't as silly as the rest, I hope y'all still like it

Other parts in this series: Vil ; Riddle ; Lilia ; Malleus ; Azul ; Leona ; Idia ; Jamil

The bar was bustling with the lively sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and music. It was the kind of place that invited camaraderie, a perfect spot for celebrating the latest success your team had pulled off. You were surrounded by your colleagues, all in high spirits. The project you had all worked tirelessly on had finally paid off, and the sense of accomplishment was almost palpable.

Someone had insisted on buying another round, and before you knew it, shots were being passed around. You weren't normally one to indulge too much, but tonight was an exception. After all the stress and sleepless nights, you deserved to relax a little.

“Cheers to us!” someone shouted, and everyone raised their glasses, laughter rippling through the group.

You smiled, genuinely feeling the warmth of the moment. There was something about the shared joy of victory that made the exhaustion worthwhile. You took a sip of your drink, eyes drifting across the room to see your colleagues—people who had become something like a second family over the months of grueling work.

But then you noticed one of your colleagues.

He looked like someone who’d already had a bit too much, was stumbling his way towards the exit, mumbling something about needing fresh air. His unsteady gait set off alarm bells in your mind, and without a second thought, you set your drink down and quickly followed after him.

“Hey!” you called out, catching up to him just as he pushed open the heavy door to the outside. The cool night air hit your face, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bar. “You okay, man? Maybe you should sit down for a bit.”

He waved you off, a lopsided grin on his face. “Nah, I’m fine! Just need… air,” he slurred, his steps veering towards the curb.

You frowned, reaching out to grab his arm gently. “Come on, let’s get you back inside. It’s not safe—”

Suddenly, he pulled away, stumbling further into the road. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The flash of headlights, the blaring horn, his eyes widening in confusion as the truck bore down on him.

Your body moved on instinct. Without thinking, you lunged forward, shoving your colleague out of the way. The last thing you heard was the deafening screech of tires, the rush of adrenaline flooding your veins as the realization hit.

There was no time to move.

The impact came with a force that stole your breath, pain radiating through your body before everything went dark.

The world faded away, the laughter and warmth of the bar replaced by an all-encompassing silence.

You woke up slowly, the world around you blurred and unfamiliar. There was an ache in your body, a heavy sort of weariness that made every small movement a struggle. You blinked, trying to clear your vision, your head pounding as if it was caught between a vice.

The first thing you noticed was the ceiling. It was wooden, beams running across it, the kind of architecture that seemed straight out of a period drama. You frowned, your eyes narrowing in confusion.

Where were you? This wasn’t the hospital—there were no sterile white walls, no beeping monitors. And the bed… It was hard, almost uncomfortably so, and you could feel the scratchy fabric of the sheets beneath you.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up, the unfamiliar weight of the clothes you were wearing making you pause. They were heavy, the fabric rough against your skin. You looked down, taking in the sight of the dress you were wearing—long, old-fashioned, and visibly worn. The sleeves were frayed, and the fabric itself looked like it had seen better days, like something out of a historical novel.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, your bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. The room around you was small, cramped, the furniture sparse and outdated. It was then that you noticed the mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. You stood, your legs shaky beneath you, and made your way towards it.

The face staring back at you wasn’t your own.

You swallowed, your heart thudding painfully in your chest as you took in the unfamiliar features—the pale skin, the hollow eyes, the face that looked almost gaunt. The realization settled in slowly, the pieces falling into place with a horrible sort of clarity. You knew this face. You knew these clothes, this room, the aching feeling that lingered in your chest.

It was the face of a character from a novel you had read as a teenager. A tragic, doomed villainess—one whose story had always stayed with you, not because of her actions but because of the injustice of it all. She was a character meant to suffer, her only role to push the heroine into her journey. She was used, discarded, her death nothing more than a footnote in the protagonist's story. The villainess with a cruel fate, a pawn in the hands of those more powerful, destined to be cast aside the moment her usefulness ran out.

You felt a chill settle in your bones, your body sinking back onto the edge of the bed as the weight of your new reality hit you. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t some fleeting nightmare you could wake up from. You were here—stuck in the body of a character whose life was nothing but misery.

Everything you had worked for—your career, your friendships, the life you had painstakingly built for yourself—was gone. All the late nights, the hard-earned successes, the laughter with friends over drinks—all of it was gone in an instant, replaced by a fate you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

The hopelessness of it all settled in, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. There was no future for this character, no way out. She was meant to suffer, to be used and discarded, and no matter how much you wanted to fight it, to believe that you could change it, a part of you knew the truth.

You were powerless here.

You buried your face in your hands, a shuddering breath escaping your lips. You wanted to cry, to scream, to demand answers. But there was no one here to answer you, no one who would care even if they could. You were alone, in a story that had already decided your fate.

The tragic villainess—the role you were now forced to play.

And you couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of despair.

After coming to terms with your new reality, you made a decision. You couldn’t afford to be a passive character in this story, waiting for the inevitable to crush you. If you were going to live in this world, then you would fight for it, rewrite the narrative, and carve out a future for yourself—even if that meant playing a role that no one expected of you.

The first challenge came at home. The character you possessed had a father—a lazy, indifferent man who spent his days drinking, oblivious to the decay of his household. The family was in debt, the estate falling apart, and the few servants left were more interested in lining their pockets than doing their jobs. You took a deep breath, refusing to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the task. One step at a time.

You started with the estate. You reviewed the books, fired the corrupt staff who had been bleeding your family dry, and brought in trustworthy people to take their place. It wasn’t easy—there were threats, and more than a few people tried to intimidate you into silence. But you had faced challenges before in your old life, and even in this new one, you weren’t about to be cowed.

Slowly, things began to change. The estate began to recover, the debts lessened, and the people who worked for you started to believe in you. You gained a reputation—first as a shrewd manager, then as someone who could be relied on to get things done. You built relationships, carefully navigating the intricacies of this world’s social dynamics. It wasn’t long before the local nobles started to take notice.

Your father, indifferent and content with his habits, became less of an obstacle as you quietly took over the responsibilities of your household. You made connections, attended social events, and gradually climbed the ranks. It was exhausting, demanding work, but every success fueled your determination.

Then came the opportunity that changed everything. A crisis in the kingdom required volunteers, and you stepped forward—a move that shocked those around you. A woman, much less a former disgraced noble, didn’t typically take on such a role. But you had no intention of following the rules laid out for you. You worked hard, proving your capability on the battlefield, earning respect not only for your strategic mind but also for your courage.

Eventually, you were knighted—a Dame of the kingdom, an honor that would have seemed impossible not long ago. It was followed by an offer to serve as a general. You accepted, knowing that with power came the opportunity to change your fate and secure a future free from the shackles of the tragic story you had once read.

The war that came next was brutal. You spent months on the frontlines, leading your soldiers through grueling battles. The weight of command was heavy; lives depended on you, and the decisions you made could mean the difference between victory and death. But you faced it all with a determination forged from your past life, a refusal to be anything less than victorious. You strategized, fought alongside your troops, and inspired them to fight harder.

In the end, you won. The kingdom's enemies were driven back, and you returned home not as the villainess destined for tragedy but as a war hero. The people cheered as you passed through the streets, and for the first time since you arrived in this world, you felt something other than fear and despair. You had fought, you had survived, and you had won.

The nobles who had once looked down on you were forced to recognize your accomplishments, and the people who once whispered about your family’s disgrace now spoke of your triumphs. You had rewritten the story, taken a character destined for misery and given her a new path—one forged by your own hands.

But even in victory, you knew the dangers of complacency. The story was far from over, and though you had managed to change your fate thus far, there were still challenges ahead. The heroine of the original story had yet to make her appearance, and the narrative that had once doomed you was still a threat.

But for now, you allowed yourself a moment to breathe, to take in the sight of the city you had fought to protect. You had climbed higher than anyone had expected, and you were determined not to fall. You had built something new—something that was yours. And you would fight to keep it, no matter what came next.

But along the way, you’d lost something essential. The joy, the ambition, the passion that had once driven you was gone. You’d become cold, hardened by the betrayals you’d faced. Even the people closest to you turned out to be disloyal.

The most painful betrayal was from a soldier you had trusted with your life—someone you had fought beside in war. He had been leaking information to the enemy, and you were forced to execute him with your own hand. His treachery cut deeper than any wound you had suffered in battle.

Your butler, a kind old man who had become something of a father figure to you, noticed the change. He often tried to cheer you up, suggesting suitors and hosting lavish events, but none of it worked. The eligible bachelors and bachelorettes who came your way were only interested in your title and wealth, not you. You became cynical, distrustful, and your butler could only watch in sadness as the vibrant person you once were faded away.

It didn’t help that you had made powerful enemies. The first prince, who you had fought beside during the war, had proposed to you.

The grand hall of the imperial palace was buzzing with the energy of the noble elite, all gathered to witness the unprecedented moment. You stood at the forefront of the room, the golden imperial crest behind you shimmering in the light of hundreds of candles.

The emperor himself had just awarded you the title of Grand Duchess, a feat no woman had ever achieved before. The applause was thunderous, the murmurs of awe and envy swirling through the crowd like a current.

You stood tall, your posture regal, even though the weight of the moment pressed down on you like a heavy crown. You’d worked for years to get here, fighting both on the battlefield and in the political arena, your every victory hard-earned.

It should’ve been a moment of triumph. And yet, the expression on the emperor’s face, tight and thin-lipped, warned you that this celebration wasn’t going to end on a pleasant note.

Sure enough, the moment the formalities ended, the first prince took a step forward. His crimson military uniform was pristine, medals gleaming on his chest, but the shine didn’t reach his eyes. You’d fought beside him during the war, seen his cowardice firsthand, and his presence already had your stomach turning.

He cleared his throat, and the hall fell into silence. The crowd’s attention shifted to him, eyes wide with anticipation. A royal prince proposing to the empire’s new Grand Duchess? It was the kind of spectacle they lived for.

“Grand Duchess,” he began, his voice booming with the kind of arrogance that only a man born into power could possess, “your bravery and accomplishments have brought great honor to this empire. You have achieved more than any woman before you, and it would be my honor to have you by my side.”

You felt your blood run cold. Oh, you knew this was coming. It had been whispered through the halls of the palace since the day you returned from the front lines—the cowardly prince, had been seeking to marry you and elevate his own standing. You’d avoided it until now, but it seemed the time for subtlety was over. He had chosen this moment, in front of the entire nobility, to make his move.

The prince knelt before you, reaching into his pocket to produce a ring—a garish thing, oversized and glittering with a ridiculous number of diamonds. The kind of ring that screamed, look at me, I’m important, but utterly lacked any true beauty. He held it up to you, the crowd around you gasping in unison.

“I ask for your hand in marriage, Grand Duchess,” he declared, his voice filled with artificial charm. “Together, we will rule this empire as the most powerful couple in history.”

You stared down at him, your jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder you didn’t break a tooth. Your mind raced as you felt the weight of every eye in the room on you. They were waiting for you to swoon, to accept, to submit to the prince’s advances like some simpering debutante.

But you? You were no ordinary noblewoman, no pawn in the empire’s political games. You had fought for this title, bled for it, earned it in ways he could never understand. And there was no way in hell you were going to let yourself be reduced to a mere accessory to this man’s weak, cowardly ambition.

Taking a deep breath, you looked down at the prince—this spoiled, useless man who thought his status alone could make up for his lack of character—and something inside you snapped.

“Marry you?” you repeated, your voice clear and cold, echoing through the hall. The prince’s smile wavered, and murmurs began to ripple through the audience.

You stepped forward, your voice rising with a sharp edge. “You think I would ever marry someone like you? A man who cowered behind his soldiers in battle, who fled at the first sign of danger? A man who abandoned his comrades, left them to die while he ran to save his own skin?”

The crowd gasped, the sound a collective intake of shock. his face flushed with embarrassment, but you weren’t done.

“I would rather marry a toad,” you continued, your voice dripping with scorn, “than be tied to a man as spineless and pathetic as you.”

The hall fell into a stunned silence. the prince's face went from red to ashen, his hand still frozen in place, holding that absurd ring. He opened his mouth, sputtering, but no words came out. He hadn’t expected this—no one had.

You could feel the weight of the empire’s gaze on you, but it didn’t matter. You were no longer just the Grand Duchess. You were something far more dangerous: a woman who had the power to defy the expectations of an entire empire.

“You would do well,” you said, your voice dropping to a deadly calm, “to remember that I earned this title. Not by birthright. Not by marriage. But by merit. And I’ll be damned if I ever let someone like you take that from me.”

With that, you turned your back on him, the prince still kneeling, humiliated in front of the empire’s most powerful. The nobles around you stood in stunned silence, some daring to whisper amongst themselves, while others watched in awe, as if witnessing a force of nature in human form.

As you walked away from the proposal, your eyes met the emperor’s. His face was unreadable, but there was a glint in his eyes—a silent acknowledgment that you had just done something no one else would have dared. You had broken the rules of this world, and the repercussions would be felt for years to come.

But you didn’t care. You were done playing their games.

Let them try and tame you. You had made it this far on your own, and you weren’t about to let anyone—least of all a toad in princely clothing—stand in your way.

The day had started like any other—a grey, somber morning draped in the quiet monotony you had come to know. The Grand Duchess’s estate was immaculate, polished to perfection, reflecting the cold and unyielding nature of its owner.

You moved through the day with the same precision as ever, going through endless meetings, signing off on reports, handling political maneuvers with the finesse of a seasoned war general. Yet, beneath it all, the hollowness remained.

Until that afternoon.

A delegation from the Scalding Sands had arrived, their colorful caravans contrasting sharply with the muted grandeur of your estate. You had heard they were coming—a diplomatic mission of sorts—and while you didn’t expect much from it, the formalities had to be observed. It was part of your role now, after all.

You stood at the grand entrance, waiting as the doors swung open to reveal the visiting party. A small group of advisors and servants stepped in first, but then your eyes fell on the young man leading them.

Kalim Al-Asim, heir to the most prominent merchant family in the Scalding Sands.

Dressed in vibrant silks, Kalim practically radiated joy. His bright eyes shone with unfiltered excitement, and his smile was wide, carefree, as if he was about to greet an old friend instead of a war-hardened Duchess. His enthusiasm was…disarming, to say the least.

“Grand Duchess!” Kalim called out the moment he spotted you, practically bouncing as he approached. “It’s an honor to finally meet you! Your reputation precedes you—everyone’s been talking about how amazing you are!”

You blinked, taken aback by his unabashed warmth. No one had spoken to you like that in years—so casual, so genuine. Most nobles approached you with caution, fear even, carefully curating their words to avoid upsetting the ice-cold facade you’d been forced to build. But Kalim? He had no such hesitations.

You inclined your head, keeping your tone measured. “Lord Al-Asim, welcome to my estate. I trust your journey was smooth?”

“Oh, it was fantastic! The weather was perfect, and we got to see so many beautiful sights on the way here! Your countryside is amazing—so green! Nothing like back home.” He beamed at you, his energy practically infectious. “I brought some gifts too! We have spices, silks, and a bunch of other stuff from home that I think you’ll love.”

As he rattled off the list of things he brought, you found yourself…listening. Actually listening, instead of mechanically going through the motions. There was something about his unfiltered excitement that was strangely comforting. It had been so long since anyone had spoken to you like this, without calculation or hidden motives.

“I appreciate the thought,” you replied, a small flicker of something unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “I’ll have the servants take care of the gifts. Please, come inside.”

He entered the estate like a burst of sunlight, his presence immediately brightening the space. As the servants guided his entourage to their rooms, you walked alongside him, pointing out some of the estate’s features. Kalim seemed utterly fascinated by everything.

“Wow, this place is incredible!” Kalim exclaimed as they passed through the gallery. His eyes wandered over the portraits lining the walls, the tapestries depicting your family’s history. “It’s so different from back home. You must be so proud to live here.”

Pride? You hadn’t felt pride in anything for a long time. Your estate, your title—it was all just the result of relentless hard work, the endless climb to the top. But you had never stopped to admire it. To feel pride in what you’d built.

Still, you nodded, keeping your face composed. “It serves its purpose.”

Kalim gave you a curious glance. “You know, it sounds like you’re talking about a sword instead of your home.”

A sword. That’s what your life had been, hadn’t it? A weapon, sharp and unyielding, forged in battle, cutting down every obstacle in its path. But now, with Kalim’s innocent comment, you wondered—was that all it was?

Before you could respond, Kalim suddenly paused in front of one of the massive windows overlooking the gardens. The view was breathtaking, the autumn leaves casting the scene in warm, golden hues.

“Hey, look!” Kalim pointed excitedly. “Your garden! It’s so beautiful this time of year. Do you ever just sit out there and enjoy it?”

You blinked again. Enjoy it? The idea seemed foreign, almost absurd. But then, looking at Kalim’s wide, hopeful eyes, you found yourself saying, “No… I don’t.”

Kalim turned to you, that same sunny grin never leaving his face. “You should! I mean, you’ve worked so hard, right? You deserve to enjoy the little things too.”

His words caught you off guard. You’d forgotten what it felt like to enjoy anything.

But then, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, a faint smile tugged at your lips. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was there.

The maids and butlers who had been quietly observing from the corners of the room nearly gasped. One of them—your head butler, who had served you since the day you first took over your family’s estate—actually dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, looking as though he might burst into tears.

“D-Duchess…!” one of the younger maids whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “She’s smiling…”

You caught sight of the butler’s reaction and, for a moment, you almost laughed. It was such a strange sight—your stoic, stern staff, so moved by something as simple as a smile.

Kalim noticed it too, tilting his head curiously. “Why’s everyone so emotional?”

You shook your head, a soft chuckle escaping before you could stop it. “I suppose they’re not used to seeing me… enjoy myself.”

Kalim’s grin widened, his eyes practically sparkling. “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to change that! It’s about time you had some fun, right?”

You didn’t answer right away, but for the first time in years, something inside you—something long buried under layers of responsibility, grief, and betrayal—began to stir.

Perhaps he was right.

Perhaps it was time for you to remember what it felt like to live again.

The grand ballroom was a sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits, filled with nobles and dignitaries who moved gracefully across the floor, their laughter and chatter blending with the soft music from the orchestra.

You stood at the edge of the room, as you always did during these events, keeping a careful distance from the festivities. These gatherings were necessary, of course—an unavoidable part of your role—but that didn’t mean you enjoyed them.

You took a sip of the champagne in your hand, your eyes scanning the room with practiced detachment. As always, you were observing—watching the faces, reading the subtle exchanges of power and influence happening between the guests.

The weight of your title hung heavy on your shoulders, a constant reminder of the responsibilities you bore. Even here, surrounded by laughter and music, you felt that familiar distance, the wall you had built around yourself growing ever higher.

It wasn’t until you noticed the flash of bright colors weaving through the crowd that your attention shifted. Kalim Al-Asim, as vibrant as ever, was making his way through the ballroom, greeting guests with his usual exuberance.

His silks shimmered in the soft candlelight, his wide grin impossible to miss. He moved with an ease that most nobles envied, free from the stifling formality that seemed to bind everyone else.

And then, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes found yours. His face lit up with recognition, and without hesitation, he started toward you.

“Oh, there you are!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement as he reached your side. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Isn’t this ball amazing? The music, the lights, the people—it’s all so lively!”

You gave him a polite nod, your usual reserved expression in place. “It’s certainly… lively.”

Kalim laughed, clearly not picking up on your lack of enthusiasm. “You’re always so serious! You should join in the fun, you know! This kind of thing doesn’t happen every day.”

Before you could respond, he held out his hand to you, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement. “Dance with me!”

The request caught you off guard, and you instinctively took a step back, shaking your head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t dance.”

Kalim tilted his head, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Come on! You can’t say no to a party like this! Everyone’s having such a good time—you should too.”

You opened your mouth to refuse again, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was no expectation, no hidden motive—just the same infectious joy he carried with him everywhere he went. And for a moment, you hesitated, feeling something stir inside you. When was the last time you’d allowed yourself to have fun? To do something as simple as dance?

Still, old habits were hard to break. “I’m not exactly one for dancing,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

But Kalim wasn’t deterred. “That’s okay! You don’t have to be good at it—you just have to enjoy it!” He took your hand, his grip warm and inviting. “Please? Just one dance?”

There was something so sincere in his request, so full of hope, that you found yourself nodding before you could think better of it.

Kalim’s face lit up with delight, and without wasting a moment, he led you out onto the dance floor. The room seemed to blur around you as he took your hand in his, guiding you into the rhythm of the music. His movements were far from graceful, but they were full of life, and you couldn’t help but be swept along by his energy.

At first, you were stiff, your posture as rigid as ever, but Kalim’s enthusiasm was contagious. He spun you around with such glee that you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the sound surprising even to yourself. Kalim grinned at you, clearly thrilled that he had coaxed a smile from you.

“See? You’re already having fun!” he said brightly.

And he was right. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you weren’t thinking about the politics of the room, the weight of your title, or the endless responsibilities waiting for you. For this brief moment, you were just… dancing. Letting go. Enjoying yourself.

As the music swelled, Kalim twirled you again, his laughter mixing with the sounds of the ballroom. The two of you were out of step with the rest of the dancers, your movements more playful than elegant, but you didn’t care. Neither did Kalim. He didn’t care about appearances or expectations—he just wanted you to be happy, and for this one dance, you let him succeed.

Around you, the other guests had begun to notice. Whispers passed between them, astonished gazes following your every move. The Grand Duchess—stoic, untouchable—laughing and dancing with such abandon was something no one had ever expected to see. Your knights, stationed at the edge of the ballroom, exchanged incredulous glances, unable to believe what they were witnessing.

“She’s dancing…” one of them murmured, barely audible. “And she’s smiling.”

Your head butler, who had been hovering nearby as always, watched with misty eyes. “This… this is a day for the history books,” he whispered, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief.

You could feel their eyes on you, the shock rippling through the room, but for once, you didn’t care. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be free, to laugh, to dance, to let go of the weight that had been pressing down on you for so long.

As the song came to an end, Kalim pulled you into one final twirl, his grin as wide as ever. When the music stopped, you found yourself breathless but… lighter. For the first time in years, you felt a spark of something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Joy.

Kalim beamed at you, clearly proud of himself. “See? I told you it’d be fun!”

You shook your head, unable to stop the small smile that lingered on your lips. “You are… impossible, Kalim.”

He laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll take that as a compliment!”

As you returned to your spot at the edge of the room, the music starting up again for the next dance, you realized that something had changed. Kalim had reminded you of something you had long forgotten—that it was okay to enjoy yourself. That even someone like you, burdened with the weight of leadership, could allow herself a moment of happiness.

And maybe, just maybe, you could allow yourself more moments like this.

The night after the ball had been long and arduous, and you were ready to retreat into the sanctuary of your chambers. The walls of your estate, which had once felt like a fortress, now felt suffocating as you tried to quiet the noise in your mind.

The forced smiles, the veiled threats, the insidious whispers among the nobility—they were all routine by now, but they weighed heavier tonight.

As you reached for the door to your private quarters, a sharp knock echoed through the hallway. One of your servants stepped forward, their face pale, eyes lowered in deference.

"The Emperor has summoned you, Grand Duchess."

Your fingers froze on the door handle. The Emperor? At this hour?

Though dread prickled at your skin, you squared your shoulders and strode down the hall toward the imperial throne room. The Emperor wasn’t one for idle conversation; this was bound to be more than a simple debrief after the ball.

The grand doors to the throne room loomed before you, and with a nod from the guards, they creaked open to reveal the Emperor seated on his throne. He was draped in the finest clothes, his presence radiating authority, but there was something sharper in his gaze tonight. The first prince, stood off to the side, arms crossed, a triumphant smirk barely hidden behind his princely facade.

You stepped into the room, head held high. You wouldn’t show weakness, not here. Not in front of them.

"Your Majesty," you greeted, voice steady.

The Emperor wasted no time. “Grand Duchess, tonight’s events have caused quite a stir.” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes hard as stone. “Your rejection of the First Prince in such a public manner has… complicated things.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. You clenched your fists but remained silent, waiting for him to reveal his true intention.

He sighed, a sound heavy with pretense. “The nobility is divided, and the Empire cannot afford instability. You have two choices before you.”

Your eyes flickered towards the first prince, who was barely containing his glee. You already knew what was coming.

“Marry the first prince and strengthen your position within the royal family.” The Emperor's voice was calm, deliberate. “Or, if that does not suit you…” He paused for effect, his gaze hardening as if daring you to defy him. “Marry Kalim Al-Asim and solidify our diplomatic alliance with the Scalding Sands.”

The room felt as though it had tilted. You knew this was coming, yet hearing the words spoken aloud felt like a slap across the face. “And if I refuse both?” you asked, voice colder than ice.

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. “Then I will have no choice but to imprison you for defying royal decree.” He leaned back into his throne, fingers tapping on the armrest. “You’ve served this empire well, but even you are not above the law.”

Your heart thundered in your chest, fury bubbling just beneath your skin. You, who had rebuilt "your" family’s estate, who had served the empire with every drop of blood and sweat you had to give—this was your reward? An ultimatum. Marry a prince who disgusted you, or chain yourself to Kalim, someone who was the antithesis of everything you had become.

You felt your lips curl into a grim smile. “So those are my choices. A cowardly prince or shackling Kalim to someone like me—a shell of a person who’s long forgotten how to live.” The bitterness in your voice was unmistakable.

Kalim, who had been standing nearby, watching the exchange, finally stepped forward. His face was still lit with that ever-present smile, though softer now, and he didn’t seem rattled in the slightest by the gravity of the situation. “I mean… I wouldn’t mind.”

You turned to him, incredulous. What?

Kalim laughed lightly, scratching the back of his head, his tone still as carefree as ever. “I’d be happy if it’s you. Really. Out of anyone in this empire, I’d rather be with someone strong and capable like you than some stranger who doesn’t even care.” His eyes were warm, completely sincere. There wasn’t a trace of fear or doubt in his words. “Plus, you’re pretty amazing! You’ve done so much for your estate, your people... I think you’re really cool!”

For a moment, just a brief moment, your raging heart stilled.

Kalim had no idea what kind of burden this marriage would be for him. You weren’t the person you once were. The years had hardened you, chipped away at the softness, leaving only the cold, sharp edges behind. Yet here he was, smiling, accepting the situation with an ease that made you wonder how he could be so unaffected.

You swallowed hard, your anger at the Emperor still simmering, but Kalim’s words had softened the blow. This wasn’t about him. He wasn’t the one forcing you into this corner. If anything, he was as much a pawn as you were.

But that didn’t mean you would accept this quietly.

You turned back to the Emperor, the cold fire in your eyes unmistakable. “Very well,” you said, voice calm but laced with venom. “I’ll marry Kalim if that is what you demand.” You took a step forward, your gaze piercing through the Emperor. “But rest assured, Your Majesty, this humiliation will not go unanswered. I may be bound by your decree, but you will regret underestimating me.”

The Emperor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but unimpressed. “Is that a threat, Grand Duchess?”

You smiled, slow and dangerous. “A promise.”

With that, you turned on your heel, your decision made. Kalim followed you without hesitation, his steps light and unburdened.

And as you left the imperial throne room, you couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eye. Kalim was smiling still, bright and carefree, as if nothing had changed.

Maybe—just maybe—you would survive this ordeal with a little less bitterness than you’d expected.

But the Emperor? He wouldn’t escape unscathed. You would make sure of that.

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of your manor, casting a warm, golden light across the room as you stood in the foyer. Kalim’s people from the Scalding Sands were preparing to depart, their vibrant, colorful robes a stark contrast to the colder tones of your estate.

You watched as they bustled about, gathering their things, saying their goodbyes, and it was a strange feeling—this sudden departure of the warmth they had brought with them.

Kalim was chatting excitedly with his entourage, gesturing wildly as he recounted some tale or another. His boundless energy had not dulled, despite the situation. You wondered how someone could remain so cheerful even in the face of such an uncertain future.

One of the senior members of Kalim’s delegation approached you, bowing deeply. “Grand Duchess, we are honored by your hospitality and your graciousness in this… unexpected engagement.” He glanced at Kalim with a fond, yet slightly exasperated look. “But our duties call us back to the Scalding Sands. We regret we cannot stay longer.”

You nodded, your expression softening slightly. “You are always welcome to stay in my manor for as long as you like. Consider it an apology for the empire’s… difficult circumstances.” The words didn’t come easily, but you meant them. You hadn’t missed how awkward the situation was for them—dragged into imperial politics without much say in the matter.

The advisor looked touched, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he bowed even deeper. “Your kindness is greatly appreciated, Grand Duchess. But, alas, we must return. We have duties to fulfill back home. Our people rely on us.”

You nodded in understanding, casting a glance at Kalim, who was still busy waving goodbye to his people. “I understand. Do what you must.”

The group finished their farewells and began filing out of the estate, leaving only one person behind—Jamil, Kalim’s loyal aide, who stood with his arms crossed, looking as calm and composed as ever.

Kalim turned to you with his usual bright smile, waving at his departing entourage. “Looks like it’s just us now!”

“And Jamil,” you added dryly.

Jamil gave a polite nod. “Of course, Grand Duchess. I will remain at Kalim’s side as always.”

You offered Jamil a brief nod before turning your attention back to Kalim. “I hope the manor is to your liking. It will likely feel different without your people around.”

Kalim beamed, completely unfazed. “Are you kidding? This place is amazing! Plus, I’ve made some new friends already.”

You raised an eyebrow. “New friends?”

At that moment, the door to the kitchen swung open, and a trio of your staff—two maids and your head butler—rushed into the room, their arms filled with notepads. They hovered around Kalim, their expressions a mix of admiration and excitement.

“Lord Al-Asim,” one of the maids began eagerly, “could you tell us again how you made the Grand Duchess laugh yesterday? We’d like to take notes.”

Kalim’s face lit up even more, if that was possible. “Oh, sure! So, I was just talking about how much I love riding on magic carpets and how one time, I almost flew straight into a flock of flamingos. You should’ve seen the feathers everywhere!” He burst into laughter, and the staff furiously scribbled in their notepads.

You stood there, blinking, utterly dumbfounded. You knew Kalim had a way of getting people to like him, but this? This was something else. You caught sight of your head butler, who was listening intently, nodding along as if Kalim were revealing some great secret to unlocking your happiness.

Kalim, noticing your expression, turned toward you with a huge grin. “See? I told you! They’re really interested in learning how to make you smile more!”

You couldn’t help it—a soft laugh escaped your lips. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Your estate, so accustomed to the stoic and rigid demeanor you carried, was now filled with your maids and butlers eagerly taking tips from a young merchant heir about how to bring joy into your life.

Your head butler gasped at the sound of your laugh, immediately dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief. “The Grand Duchess… she laughed again!” His voice quivered with emotion, and the younger maid next to him looked ready to burst into tears as well.

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself. You laughed—genuinely, fully, for the first time in what felt like years. The absurdity of it all, the sight of your normally stone-faced butler shedding tears of joy over something so simple, was too much.

Kalim, of course, laughed along with you, completely at ease. “See? It’s not so hard!”

You shook your head, still chuckling as you looked at him. “You’re impossible, Kalim.”

He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Hey, as long as you’re smiling, I’m doing something right!”

You glanced over at your butler, who was now openly weeping into his handkerchief. “Please, calm down. You’re making a scene.”

But the butler only waved a hand dramatically, unable to compose himself. “It is… a joy to witness such a thing, Grand Duchess. A joy I never thought I would see in my lifetime.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile lingered on your lips. “Honestly…”

Kalim, still grinning from ear to ear, looked at you with a warmth that, for just a moment, eased the tension that had been building in your chest since the engagement was announced. Though the situation was far from ideal, and though you still had plans to make the Emperor regret his actions, Kalim’s presence—his boundless energy and optimism—was like a ray of sunlight breaking through the storm clouds that had surrounded you for so long.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

<hr>

The bustling market was alive with the sights and sounds of your people going about their day—vendors calling out their wares, children running between the stalls, the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted meats filling the air. It had been years since you last visited the market like this, blending in with the common folk, and you were struck by how much had changed since you were younger. The town had grown, thriving under your rule, and though you were always kept informed of the state of your territory, seeing it firsthand was a different experience altogether.

Beside you, Kalim was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes sparkled as he took in the vibrant displays of food, crafts, and goods, his smile as wide as ever. “Wow! This place is amazing! Look at all these stalls!” He dashed ahead, marveling at the colorful array of goods, his enthusiasm as infectious as ever.

You couldn’t help but smile at his energy, though you maintained your usual composed demeanor. “This market is one of the oldest in the region. It’s a center of trade, and many of the local families have been running their stalls for generations.”

Kalim turned to you, eyes bright with admiration. “Your people look so happy! I knew you were an amazing ruler, but seeing this with my own eyes? It’s incredible! You’ve built something really special here.”

There was a warmth in his words that caught you off guard, and for a moment, you found yourself lost in thought. You had always worked hard for your people, but you rarely took the time to reflect on how much you had accomplished. Hearing it from someone like Kalim—someone who was so honest and open in his praise—made it feel different, more personal.

He suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you toward a food stall where a vendor was grilling skewers of seasoned meat. “Hey, we’ve gotta try some of this!” Kalim exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. “It smells so good!”

The vendor, a stout older man with a friendly smile, bowed as he recognized you. “Grand Duchess! It is an honor to serve you today. Would you like to try one of our specialties?”

You nodded, taking in the scent of the sizzling food. “I’ll have two, please.”

The vendor handed you two skewers, and you turned to Kalim, offering him one. “Here, try this.”

Without a second thought, Kalim leaned in and took a bite right from the skewer you were holding, grinning up at you as he chewed. “Mmm! This is delicious!” His face lit up in delight, and he barely waited to swallow before he added, “You have to try some too!”

Before you could react, Kalim held his own skewer up to you, expecting you to do the same. The casualness of the gesture—the ease with which he shared his food—made you pause. It had been so long since anyone had treated you like this, without the usual formality or hesitation. Almost on instinct, you leaned in and took a small bite.

The flavor was rich, the spices perfectly balanced, but it wasn’t the food that had your attention. No, it was the way Kalim was watching you, his expression full of warmth and joy, as if this simple moment meant the world to him.

Your face warmed slightly, and before you could stop yourself, you realized you were blushing.

Behind you, you heard a sharp intake of breath from one of your knights, who had been quietly trailing after you. “Did… did the Grand Duchess just blush?” one of them whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with astonishment.

Another knight, equally stunned, gasped. “She did! I saw it! She actually blushed!”

You turned to glare at your knights, trying to regain your composure. “Enough,” you said sharply, though your flustered tone betrayed you. “Focus on your duties.”

But your knights were having none of it. One of them, a young woman with a mischievous glint in her eye, exchanged glances with her comrades before whispering, “Did you see how casual she was with him? They’re feeding each other like a couple!”

Another knight, eyes wide with excitement, chimed in. “I can’t believe this! The Grand Duchess… flustered by her fiancé? It’s like we’re in a romance novel!”

You shot them another look, but Kalim, completely oblivious to the whispers and side glances, just laughed, offering you more of his skewer. “Here, have some more! You look like you liked it!”

Your heart raced at the simple, kind gesture, and though you wanted to maintain your icy composure, something about Kalim’s sincerity made it impossible to stay guarded. You took another bite, feeling your face grow even warmer as your knights barely contained their squeals of excitement.

One of the senior knights, trying to remain composed but failing miserably, muttered, “This is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Lord Al-Asim is working miracles.”

“I know!” another knight whispered excitedly. “We should take notes! Maybe we can keep her in a good mood if we learn from him.”

The absurdity of it all—the idea of your battle-hardened knights taking pointers from Kalim on how to make you smile—was too much. You couldn’t help it; a soft, genuine laugh escaped your lips.

You sighed, shaking your head as Kalim smiled up at you, completely unaware of the chaos he had just caused. “You really are impossible, Kalim.”

Kalim grinned, completely at ease. “Hey, as long as you’re happy, I’m doing something right!”

For the first time in a long while, surrounded by the people you’d worked so hard to protect and with Kalim at your side, you felt a genuine lightness in your heart. Maybe this wasn’t the life you had planned, but for now, in this moment, it didn’t seem so bad.

From the moment Kalim Al-Asim first stepped into your estate, he could feel the weight of the world pressing down on you. It wasn’t something you said or did—if anything, you were composed, graceful, carrying yourself with the kind of authority that made people hesitate before speaking to you.

No, it was something deeper, something in the way your shoulders were always so tense, the way your eyes seemed to hold a kind of tiredness that went beyond just physical exhaustion.

Kalim wasn’t blind to his own shortcomings. He wasn’t the smartest guy—he knew that. He’d been told as much more times than he could count. People often saw him as naive, too happy-go-lucky for the responsibilities placed on his shoulders.

That’s what Jamil was for, after all, to cover for his inadequacies and ensure that things went smoothly. Kalim didn’t mind. He trusted Jamil more than anyone, and he knew his limits.

But when he met you, something shifted inside him.

At first, it was just awe. You were the Grand Duchess, after all—the person everyone talked about. A ruler who had risen to power not by birthright but through sheer will and skill.

You had this aura of strength around you, like a shield. But Kalim could see the cracks in that armor, the way the weight of your responsibilities was crushing you, little by little. And it hurt to see.

He’d expected you to be cold, maybe even harsh, like so many nobles who carried the weight of authority. But when you greeted him, your voice wasn’t harsh—it was gentle. There was pressure behind it, sure, but you didn’t snap at him or dismiss his excitement, even though he knew people often found him a bit too much.

Instead, you listened to him. You smiled—a small, almost invisible one—but it was there, and it lit something inside him. A flutter he didn’t quite know how to describe.

It was when you smiled for him for the first time that he really felt it. That small, faint curve of your lips after he’d gotten a little too excited about something as simple as a window view of your garden. The flutter in his chest was unfamiliar, but he didn’t dislike it. No, in fact, it felt… nice. Special.

Kalim couldn’t help but want to make you smile again.

He’d seen so many people forced into roles that didn’t let them be happy, and he hated that you seemed to be one of them. You were strong, yeah, but you were suffering, too. And that was something Kalim couldn’t stand. So, from that moment on, he made it a personal goal to lighten the weight on your shoulders, even if just a little.

He didn’t have Jamil’s cleverness, didn’t understand the nuances of the political games you were constantly playing, but maybe—just maybe—he could give you something simple. A reminder that life wasn’t just about duty and responsibility, that there could be joy, too. If anyone deserved to smile more, it was you.

And when you did, that tiny flutter in his chest bloomed into something more. He didn’t have the words for it, but whatever it was, it made him even more determined to stick by your side.

Because in the end, Kalim Al-Asim wasn’t the smartest, but he knew one thing for sure: he liked making you happy. And if he could do that, even in the smallest ways, then maybe that was enough.

The wedding had been a grand affair—briefly mentioned in conversations, a formality that had swept through the palace in a whirlwind of silks, flowers, and the astonished murmurs of nobles. Now, life had settled into its new rhythm. The days moved forward, filled with work and the familiar weight of duty, yet something had shifted. Something brighter.

You sat at your desk, papers spread out in front of you, quill in hand. The room was quiet, save for the soft scratching of pen on parchment. But then, a familiar burst of energy entered the room.

Kalim.

He bounded over to you, practically glowing with life, as always. His smile was wide, his eyes gleaming as he plopped down beside you, legs crossed, hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke.

“Hey, what’re you working on? Anything exciting? You should take a break—you’ve been at it for hours!” His words bubbled up, his excitement palpable.

You glanced up from your work, unable to suppress the smallest of smiles. Kalim had that effect—an infectious lightness that made everything around him feel… easier. As he leaned closer to peer at your papers, you felt the warmth of his presence, the joy that radiated from him in every small movement.

And then, it hit you.

The past few months, since you had arrived in this world, had been the best you could remember. Despite everything—despite the weight of your responsibilities, the confusion of your new life—there had been him. Kalim, always there with his endless enthusiasm, his unwavering kindness. He was the reason those months had been so full of life, so unexpectedly joyful.

Without thinking, you reached out, grabbing his arm and pulling him down onto your lap. His laughter bubbled up in surprise as you tugged him into your space, but before he could say anything, you leaned in and kissed him.

For a moment, the world stilled. His lips were soft, warm against yours, and you could feel the surprised smile lingering there, slowly deepening as he kissed you back, his hands resting gently on your shoulders.

When you pulled back, his eyes sparkled, his grin wider than ever.

“Well, that was unexpected!” he laughed, his cheeks flushed. “I should interrupt your work more often!”

The chaos hit you the moment you opened the door.

Papers were scattered everywhere, an overturned chair lay dramatically in the corner, and somehow, somehow, Kalim had managed to knock over an entire shelf of books, which now covered the floor in what could only be described as a literary avalanche.

In the center of it all was Kalim himself, spinning wildly in circles as he tried to catch a parrot—yes, a parrot—that was squawking and flapping around the room like it had a personal vendetta against order.

"Oh! You're back!" Kalim shouted, not missing a beat as he stumbled over a pile of papers, arms flailing as the parrot swooped low above his head. "You wouldn’t believe it—Jamil said not to bring the bird in, but I thought, 'Hey, it’ll liven things up!' And now it’s really livening things up!"

The parrot screeched in agreement, swooping low again as Kalim tried (and failed) to dodge it, knocking into another pile of books in the process.

You just stood there, blinking, trying to comprehend the sheer absurdity of what you were seeing. Your instinct—your usual instinct—would have been to explode, to demand why Kalim had brought a parrot into your office and created a scene worthy of a disaster movie.

But then Kalim turned toward you, still laughing despite the madness, his eyes bright with excitement and joy. He looked so happy, so full of life, and that grin—oh, that ridiculous, infectious grin—just melted away any irritation you might’ve felt.

You sighed, half-amused, half-exasperated, but completely smitten.

"Why did you bring a parrot in here, Kalim?" you asked, not really expecting a logical answer.

"I thought it could help!" he said earnestly, ducking again as the parrot flapped by. "You know, for moral support! But I think it’s mad about the crackers I gave it—they weren’t the fancy ones."

Despite yourself, you snorted a laugh. Fancy crackers for a parrot. Of course.

Shaking your head, you rolled up your sleeves and waded into the chaos. "Alright," you said with a sigh, "how do we calm this thing down?"

"I knew you'd help!" Kalim beamed, his grin wider than ever as he accidentally knocked over another stack of books while trying to reach for the bird. "You’re the best!"

And just like that, any frustration you might’ve felt disappeared. It was impossible to stay mad when Kalim was around, when he looked at you like that, his smile brighter than the chaos surrounding you.

Sure, you should’ve been irritated—you definitely should’ve scolded him—but the truth was, you didn’t care. Not when you liked seeing him happy like this.

The parrot screeched again, now perched on top of the chandelier, and you looked at Kalim, who was already planning his next attempt to capture it, enthusiasm never wavering.

"Alright," you muttered with a smirk, "let’s catch a parrot."

Because really, with Kalim, how could you say no?

The council chamber was as dull as ever. Endless discussions, arguments over treaties and trade, and the first prince droning on with his overinflated sense of importance. Once, you would have gritted your teeth and endured it, forcing yourself to care because you had to—because that was what duty demanded.

But now, with Kalim beside you, the air felt lighter. His presence added a quiet warmth, even in this room filled with scheming nobles and stifling protocol.

You caught Kalim sneaking glances at you, barely containing his grin, and he leaned in, whispering, “Do you think they’d notice if we snuck out? I saw this really nice restaurant on the way.”

You smothered a laugh, turning your gaze downward. You’d never dreamed you could feel such joy during these dreary meetings, but here you were, caught in this bubble with him, like the two of you were the only people in the room. His happiness became your own, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The first prince’s voice faltered, his expression darkening as he noticed the soft smile you were trying to hide. Anger sparked in his eyes, a sharp glint of resentment as he realized his plans to manipulate you had come to nothing. He looked at you and Kalim as if he were staring at an infuriating puzzle—one that needed to be destroyed.

That night, after a grueling day of meetings, you made your way to your chambers. The hallways were quiet, and the familiar comforts of your estate filled you with calm, but something felt off. Shadows stretched where they shouldn’t, moving unnaturally, as if they had a life of their own. Your instincts kicked in, and you quickened your pace.

You reached your shared bedroom, a flicker of movement catching your eye. There, in the corner, figures clad in dark robes converged around Kalim. His eyes widened, but before he could react, you lunged forward, fury blazing in your veins.

You fought them off with nothing but raw strength and sheer will, each blow desperate and ferocious. They struck at you, blades glinting, and you felt pain slice across your skin, but you refused to yield, refusing to let them get anywhere near him.

At last, the final attacker crumpled to the floor. You staggered, blood staining your clothes, the pain seeping into every limb, but Kalim’s arms were already there, catching you before you could fall.

His expression was uncharacteristically serious, his cheerful demeanor replaced by something sharp, regal—a reminder that he was no mere boy in love but the heir of a powerful family.

The doctor arrived, working quickly, and once you were settled in bed, Kalim took a seat beside you. His gaze was steady, intense, and for the first time, you saw the weight of responsibility in his eyes, the silent authority he usually kept hidden beneath layers of laughter and joy.

“Why did you fight them alone?” he asked quietly, his hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t have to—”

You shook your head, a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Because no one hurts you. Not while I’m here.”

His hand stilled, and a flicker of pain crossed his face. “I didn’t have to stay, you know.” His voice was soft but firm, carrying the weight of a decision made long ago. “I’m not tied to this empire. My family’s influence is vast; we don’t need anyone’s approval. But I stayed… because I like being here with you. Because I…” His voice faltered, but his gaze held yours. “Because I love you.”

Kalim’s hand clasped yours, his fingers warm and steady. “The Scalding Sands will manage without this empire. And this place… it doesn’t deserve you. Not when it has hurt you like this.” His voice grew colder, a tone you’d never heard from him before. “Let it fall apart, for all I care. I’m done watching it drain the life out of you.”

For a long moment, you lay there, absorbing the enormity of his words. A world without the burden of duty, free from the endless cycles of treachery and expectation. And Kalim beside you, offering not just escape, but freedom, and a life filled with joy.

A soft laugh escaped you, surprising even yourself. “I don’t care if the empire crashes and burns,” you murmured, your hand tightening around his. “I don’t care about any of it. I just want you.”

Kalim’s eyes softened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing gently against yours. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with a promise of a new beginning. It was a moment that felt like the closing of one life and the opening of another, a vow sealed with warmth and certainty.

You both pulled back, breathless but smiling, a new, shared future blooming between you. And when you finally closed your eyes, your hand still in his, you knew you’d face whatever came next together, no matter where it led.

The final ball was as grand as ever, the ballroom filled with nobles dressed in the finest silks and jewels, their laughter and chatter a thin veil over the ever-present tension in the room.

You entered with Kalim by your side, the weight of what you were about to do settling over you like armor. The empire had always been a battlefield for you, but tonight… tonight, you were walking away from it all.

At the far end of the ballroom, the Emperor sat on his gilded throne, the golden imperial crest looming behind him. His eyes scanned the room lazily, but you could see the calculation in his gaze. Beside him stood the First Prince, his eyes narrowing at you the moment you entered. His jaw clenched, the flicker of rage barely contained beneath the surface.

You weren’t here to dance, though. No, tonight was about setting yourself free.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the center of the ballroom, Kalim’s presence a comforting warmth beside you. The chatter died down almost instantly, and all eyes turned toward you. Whispers spread like wildfire through the crowd—what was the Grand Duchess planning now?

You gave them no time to speculate.

“Your Majesty,” you called out, your voice sharp enough to cut through the murmurs. “I stand before you one last time to say this: I will no longer serve this Empire.”

The room fell into stunned silence, gasps echoing off the walls. The Emperor’s eyes darkened, his hand gripping the armrest of his throne tightly, but you didn’t stop.

“Your empire,” you continued, your voice rising, “is built on the backs of people far better than you. You are a rotten king. You speak of honor and glory, but all you do is send others to die for your own ambition. I bled for this empire, fought your wars, won your battles, and for what? So you could sit on your throne, pretending to be a ruler when you’re nothing but a coward hiding behind false titles?”

The nobles gasped again, their shock palpable. No one had ever spoken to the Emperor like this.

“And you,” you snapped, turning toward the First Prince, your eyes blazing. “You—who ordered the assassination of my husband because I rejected you—are even worse. A spineless coward with nothing to back your ego. You hide behind your father’s power, hoping that killing the man I love will somehow make me regret not choosing you. But I could never love someone as weak as you. You are pathetic.”

His face turned an ugly shade of red, his hand twitching toward the sword at his side, but you weren’t afraid. You had seen what he was capable of—nothing.

The Emperor finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. “You dare insult your emperor, the man who gave you your title?”

“I earned my title,” you snapped, stepping forward. “I didn’t need your permission or your favor to become who I am. You gave me nothing that I didn’t take for myself. And I’ll tell you this—I will never fight another war for someone as revolting as you.”

The Emperor’s mask of indifference cracked, his eyes blazing with fury, but behind it, you could see the desperation. He needed you. The Empire needed you. They couldn’t afford to lose you.

He leaned forward, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “What do you want? Wealth? Power? I’ll give you anything. Just don’t walk away.”

You almost laughed at the irony of it—this man who had always acted like you were disposable, now begging you to stay.

But you didn’t need his power. You didn’t need his wealth. You glanced at Kalim, who stood beside you with that same warmth, that same unshakable love in his eyes. And in that moment, you knew exactly what you wanted.

“Kalim is enough,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I don’t need anything from you.”

With that, you turned on your heel, not sparing the Emperor or his pathetic son another glance. Kalim followed without question, his hand finding yours as you walked out of the ballroom, your loyal knights, butler, and maids falling in step behind you.

You could hear the stunned whispers of the nobles behind you, their shock hanging in the air like a tangible thing, but you didn’t care. You had walked away from the Empire, from its corruption, from its endless, soul-sucking games.

And now? Now, you were free.

As the cool night air hit your face, Kalim squeezed your hand, his bright smile lighting up the darkness. “So,” he said, his voice filled with excitement, “where should we go first on our adventure?”

You laughed softly, feeling lighter than you had in years. “Anywhere. Everywhere. As long as it’s with you.”

And with that, you ran. Away from the Empire, away from the pain of your past, toward a future filled with love, adventure, and endless possibilities.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you were truly happy.

Masterlist

Other Parts in this series:

Part 1: Vil ; Part 2: Riddle ; Part 3: Lilia ; Part 4: Malleus ; Part 5: Azul ; Part 6: Leona ; Part 7: Idia ; Part 8; Jamil

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #kalim al asim x reader #kalim #kalim x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al-asim #kalim al-asim x reader #twst kalim x reader #twst kalim #fem reader

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55sturn · 3 days ago

Note

for loser!chris & mean girl!reader, what do you think going to the fair/carnival would be like between them? and the ferris wheel 👀

✮ LOSER!CHRIS AND MEAN GIRL!READER BLURB 0.5

disclaimers: unresolved angst, swearing, reader is a bitch.

the domesticity of it all, the slightly charged atmosphere between her and chris, the simmering tension that was built over the last few weeks beginning to rise to the surface as she sits beside him in her car, stresses her out, a lot. not much could be done to ease her nerves. they had only decided to go because chris had been adamant on spending time together, away from the parties and people throwing their money at chris for the endless supply of drugs he had, especially following the way the dock drop off had gone so wrong. and he had finally forgiven y/n for ratting him out to the authorities, also known as her father.

and as they walk through the hoards of carnival goers clumped all around the fair grounds, her nerves were on fire. she‘s overwhelmed and frustrated by her feelings that she’s trying so hard to push down rising to the surface, but the moment chris’ hand slips into her own, his fingers slotting between hers like they were meant to fit there, quieted her mind instantly.

“y’want anything sweetheart?” he hums, gesturing to the line of food trucks selling various over-the-top and slightly grotesque food combinations that had her stomach turning just at the sight and smell of them, and they were being sold at such low prices to fuel the overconsumption of the world, but in true carnival celebration, she points to the fresh tacos, as she nods.

he gently pulls her along behind as he moves to stand in line, and the elderly couple ahead of them turn around to smile at chris and y/n, and the older woman’s heart melts at the sight of the two younger kids, chris’ arm wrapping protectively around y/n’s shoulders, and the woman can’t help but ask,

“don’t mind my asking, but the two of you look like the sweetest couple, have you two been together long?” the woman hums, catching both chris and y/n off-guard, and as chris goes to gently correct the woman, much to both of their surprise, and slightly to y/n’s dismay, she cuts chris off.

“we’ve been together going on six months.” y/n smiles, and she doesn’t know what took over her, what compelled her, to say that. they weren’t together, they hadn’t even been fooling around officially for six months, but doing that, telling the kind older woman that they were together felt so natural to y/n, and her face warms with embarrassment as she meets chris’ unreadable stare.

“ah, young love, make sure to cherish it, it feels new and fresh now, but in the blink of an eye, you’ll staring down fifty years together.” the woman sighs wistfully, her eyes flitting to her husband’s face as she smiles at him before turning back to face the line ahead of her.

and the silence between chris and y/n is palpable, and her the doubt swirling in her mind is beginning to eat away at her but as if he could read her mind, chris’ arm tightens around her shoulder and he squeezes her bicep gently, as if to let her know it’s okay.

the two eat their food in comfortable silence, watching people go about their evenings before lining up for the ferris wheel. and as they sit in the carriage, y/n leans her head on his shoulder, the two of them finding peace in y/n’s false proclamation. and before they know it, they’re at the top, the wheel pausing as the conductor lets more people off and chris takes this opportunity to kiss y/n.

the kiss is soft, tender, the tiniest bit rushed, but that makes it all the more romantic to her as she pushes into the kiss, but it’s cut short as chris pulls away, looking into her eyes so intently that it forced her to break the contact they held, and chris chuckles as he tilts her head up, forcing her to look at him as whispers an unmistakable confession that has her stomach twisting with guilt.

“i love you, y/n, i have since we were fourteen.” he hums, his heartbeat picking up as her face twists with anger and disgust, it shocks how easily she can switch from being the kindhearted, sweet girl she hides beneath the surface, and the cold, rude, selfish girl she proudly and outwardly shows to the world. and his heart breaks from the way she rips away from his touch, spit firing harsh words with such venom it makes him physically recoil.

“chris, don’t. i’m warning you, do not do this. don’t embarrass me. don’t fucking ruin the night because what i have to say is only going to hurt you.“ she snaps, watching as chris’ brows furrow with confusion and unbridled sadness, he thought that they were finally getting somewhere.

“but you said-“ he starts, and she’s quick to cut him off with a pitiful scoff and she looks at him incredulously, unable to believe that he truly is that stupid and naive,

“what i said to that old bag was nothing but a lie to make her happy, you didn’t actually believe me did you? because if you did, you’re an idiot. we’re not together and you know that, i know you do. i don’t love you, i don’t want to love you. i’m only with you for two things, the sex and your drugs. that’s it. i can’t be with you, i don’t want to be with you, you’re such a fucking loser chris, i can’t believe you thought i meant what i said.”

the way y/n narrows her eyes at him, her posture rigid as she speaks to him, the way her anger begins manifesting from every pore has him scoffing and shaking his head in shame, he can’t believe that she still fights what she feels for him, when it’s so blatantly clear that she feels the same, and the words she spat at him in that moment proved that maybe, just maybe, his friends were right.

“you’re such a selfish bitch. every time one of my friends tell me t’get over you, to let you go, t’give up on ever getting through to you, i tell them that you’re worth the fight. every time they tell me you’re just another selfish druggie tryna to find her next high, i defend you, i tell them that they don’t really know you but the thing is, they’re pretty fuckin’ spot on. but m’done, don’t fucking text me, don’t call me, don’t even fuckin’ think about me until you sort your shit out y/n. find a new fuckin’ dealer.” chris spits, watching the way she physically recoils from the strength and truth to his words, before turning away from and watching the crowd below them as the ferris wheel lowers.

as they’re let off the ride, chris is quick to walk ahead of her, maneuvering his way through the crowds of people, leaving y/n stranded behind him, her arms winding tight around her body as the reality of what just happened sets in, regret and guilt settling deep in her bones, and she’s quick to curse herself for being so cruel to chris. the image of the hurt flashing across his face being the only thing replaying in her mind.

STARS CORNER oops! also you’re not getting the story in chronological order bc i feel like it’s more fun that way! and i know i asked for fluffy asks but i couldn’t help making it angsty bc it hurts so good in their story

MASTERLIST HERE

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #i’m a loser baby #loser!chris #mean girl!yn

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solelifauna · 1 day ago

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Definitely NOT Invincible (Yandere Invincible & Reader)

Pt.4

Where (Y/n) becomes an A to C student. It's not her fault tho! Blame it on the trauma.

ALSO, THANK YOU TO @oof-spoof FOR PRACTICALLY FUNDING THE INVINCIBLE SERIES!!! EVERYONE GIVE THEM SOME LOVE!!!

Mark grabbed the keys, sliding into the driver’s seat without a word, and you followed suit, exhaustion settling deep into your bones as you slumped into the passenger seat. As you buckled your seatbelt, he turned the ignition, the radio flicking on as he scrolled through channels until he landed on the familiar one, 96.5. The quiet drive began, with Mark’s fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel in time with the music, a rhythm that seemed at odds with the tense atmosphere filling the car.

You stared out the window, letting the passing scenery blur before you. Houses and shops you once thought would stand forever flew past, their vibrant facades a painful reminder of all you’d lose in the next five months. This town, this life—it was doomed.

Mark’s fingers slowed, and his eyes flicked toward you, his voice slipping in smoothly through the silence. “You seem a bit… off,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “Stayed up late or something?”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, masking the churn of emotions beneath a neutral expression. “Just tired,” you replied shortly, hoping that would be enough.

He gave a low hum, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. “You sure?” he asked, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they scanned your face. “You’ve been acting different lately. Jumpy, kind of… paranoid, maybe?”

The subtle accusation prickled at your nerves, and you tore your gaze away from him, fixing your eyes back on the road. “It’s just school,” you muttered. “And the tests. No big deal.”

But Mark’s voice didn’t lose that sharp edge. “Right,” he said, drawing out the word, as if savoring the slight tension in your voice. “Because that’s totally you. Ignoring me and Dad, breaking down in the arms of your friends you see in school everyday, and sitting at the dining table like a vegetable for hours.”

You tightened your grip on your seatbelt, willing yourself to stay calm. “Maybe I just need sometime to myself,” you replied, forcing yourself to sound nonchalant.

Mark didn’t respond right away, but you felt his gaze linger, heavy and assessing. You were painfully aware of his scrutiny, and each second under his gaze felt like it stretched into eternity. Then, he leaned back, lips curling in a faint smirk.

“Whatever it is,” he said softly, almost a whisper, but there was a chill behind his words that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ll find out, (Y/n).”

The words hung in the air, charged with unspoken promises. You could feel his eyes on you, searching, prying, as if he were peeling back the layers of your mind to uncover whatever secrets you kept hidden. You forced yourself to look straight ahead, but his words echoed in your mind, sinking in like a thorn you couldn’t dislodge.

As you pulled up to the school, you felt as though you could barely breathe. Mark turned off the car, watching you with that same intense, unnerving gaze. “Don’t go doing anything you’ll regret,” he added, his tone light, almost playful, but the underlying menace was unmistakable.

With a tight nod, you opened the car door and stepped out, feeling his gaze bore into your back as you walked toward the school entrance. The hollow ache in your chest grew heavier, the knowledge that your own brother was already suspicious clawing at you. You had five months left before everything fell apart—and now, Mark was already starting to close in.

The moment you stepped out of the car, you quickened your pace, your feet carrying you across the parking lot toward the school entrance where Hallie, Connor, and Weston were waiting. You could feel Mark’s gaze burning into your back, heavy with suspicion, his presence like a dark cloud that followed you no matter how fast you walked. You forced yourself to keep your head down, ignoring the instinct to turn around and see if he was still watching.

As you neared your friends, a breath of relief slipped from your lips. Hallie caught your eye, giving you a small, knowing nod, and Weston nudged Connor, who was hunched over his phone. They could see the strain in your expression, the tension lingering around you, and immediately closed the distance, creating a small, protective circle.

“Everything okay?” Hallie asked quietly, her voice low but filled with concern. You managed a quick nod, brushing it off as best as you could.

“It’s… fine,” you said, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you.

They didn’t press further, but you could tell they were already on edge. They knew you well enough to sense when something was wrong, and your silence said plenty.

A few feet behind you, Mark had come to a stop, his arms folded as he leaned against the side of the car, watching you with that same unsettling intensity. He made no effort to hide it, his gaze fixed, sharp, studying your every move. A casual onlooker might not notice the tension in his stance, but you could feel it, the way he observed you with the quiet patience of someone biding their time.

Then, in a calculated move, Mark shifted his attention to a group of boys loitering by the side of the building—his so-called friends. They were loud, boisterous, and clearly thrilled to see him approach, clapping him on the shoulder and making crude jokes, the type he always pretended to enjoy. But you knew him too well; you saw the way he tolerated their company with a thinly veiled disdain, a quiet irritation masked by a charming grin.

One of the boys slapped Mark on the back, laughing too loudly at something Mark hadn’t even responded to. Mark flashed a smirk, humoring them, but his gaze darted back to you, subtle but piercing, as if ensuring you knew he was still watching. He laughed at some joke, a hollow sound, but his eyes never lost that calculated look, a hunter keeping track of his prey while biding his time.

Your shoulders tensed. Even surrounded by his friends, he seemed hyper-focused on you, as though he could sense your discomfort. You knew he was letting you go for now, but his patience wouldn’t last forever. Mark was never one to let things go unchecked, and with each passing second, his suspicion was sharpening, honing in on you.

Connor’s hand brushed against your arm, bringing you back to the present. “You good?” he asked, his voice a murmur, keeping it low so no one else could hear.

You forced yourself to breathe, nodding again. “Let’s get inside.”

Together, you and your friends made your way into the school, the familiar hum of voices and shuffling footsteps drowning out the tension outside. But even as the walls closed around you, shielding you from Mark’s stare, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d already set his sights on you, and he wouldn’t stop until he’d unraveled every secret you fought so hard to hide.

As you made your way through the bustling hallway, you leaned in close to Hallie, whispering, “We need to talk. Later.”

She nodded in agreement before heading off to her first class, Weston following in tandem.

With that, you and Conner head to your first class, nerves jolting and wired. For some reason your fight-or-flight was kicking in, pumping needless adrenaline through your body (it seemed like your body was always in fight or flight mode, never really stopping or calming down).

As you and Connor slipped into your seats, you forced yourself to look as composed as possible, even as your insides churned with anxiety. The entire classroom felt distant, almost surreal, as if you were watching it all through a fog. Your hands clenched the edge of your desk, a small attempt to ground yourself, to stop the insistent rush of adrenaline flooding your veins.

It was almost maddening, this constant state of vigilance, like your body couldn’t accept that, for now at least, you were safe. You knew Mark was out there somewhere, probably already listening with his enhanced hearing, his sharp ears tuned in for the slightest slip-up. He could be in any room, any hallway, eavesdropping without you even realizing it.

Soon, your math teacher, Mrs. Barnes entered, her heels clacking against the linoleum floor, as she began to set up for the day’s lesson. You took a shaky breath, forcing your focus on her as she scrawled equations across the whiteboard, her voice drifting around you as she launched into a review of yesterday’s formulas.

But as you tried to listen, to grasp the material, you hit a wall—a terrifying, absolute void where your memories of math should have been. The numbers blurred, sliding off your mind like water, and no matter how hard you focused, the information simply wouldn’t stick.

Panicking slightly, you scanned the board, hoping that maybe a familiar formula or concept would spark something. But it was like staring at a foreign language. The frustration gnawed at you, each failed attempt to remember only heightening your sense of dread. You looked over at Connor, your pulse racing, and found him already watching you, a look of shared panic in his eyes.

You could tell he was struggling too. He shook his head slightly, his mouth set in a grim line. He leaned down, pulling out his notebook and scribbling something quickly. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he slid it over to you.

Do you remember any of this?

You hesitated, your hand trembling as you wrote back.

Nothing. I can’t remember a single thing. It’s like…

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. It was as if everything you’d learned here—the academic knowledge, the normal parts of life—had simply been erased. Your mind was so conditioned to survive, to fight and endure, that it had discarded everything else. In a terrifying way, you were no longer the student you once were. You’d been reshaped entirely by the trauma of the last life.

Connor swallowed, looking down at the note. You watched as he took in the implications, his face growing paler with every passing second. Mrs. Barnes continued her lesson, unaware of the silent panic that rippled between you and Connor. The words she wrote on the board may as well have been gibberish. You didn’t even recognize half the terms she was using anymore, the definitions blurred or completely forgotten.

You turned your gaze to your textbook, flipping the pages with trembling fingers, hoping that something, anything, would stick. But all you could focus on was the sensation of being cornered, of being hunted. Your mind kept flitting back to those dark days in the resistance, to the endless battles, to the snap decisions you’d made just to stay alive. It was like your brain had rewired itself, discarding anything that didn’t serve the immediate need to survive.

Connor nudged you, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts, and he quickly scribbled another note.

This is bad. What are we supposed to do if we can’t even remember the basics?

You tried to take a calming breath, but it came out shaky. He was right. You were barely keeping up this façade of normalcy as it was. If you couldn’t handle school, you’d stand out even more. Mark would notice. Your parents would notice. Teachers would start asking questions. People would wonder what had happened to you.

We’ll figure something out, you wrote back, though even you weren’t convinced.

It seems like you’ve said that same sentence too many times though with no real solutions.

But before you could come up with a more reassuring answer, Mrs. Barnes turned toward your row, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the classroom. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly shifted your gaze to the board, hoping she hadn’t noticed the exchange.

“Connor, (Y/n). Is there something you’d like to share with the class?” she asked, her tone pointed.

You straightened in your seat, forcing a tight smile. “No, ma’am. Just—trying to catch up.”

She held your gaze for a moment longer than you liked, suspicion flickering in her eyes, but eventually she turned back to the board, resuming her explanation. You exchanged a glance with Connor, both of you silently relieved.

But the relief was short-lived. The void in your mind loomed larger, a terrifying reminder of the life you’d left behind—and the life you couldn’t fully return to. It was becoming painfully clear that you weren’t just out of practice or distracted, no, something fundamental had changed inside you. You were something else entirely now, someone forged in battle and scarred by the horrors of survival.

The lesson droned on. You could only hope that whatever pieces of your old self remained would be enough to keep everyone safe, long enough to figure out how to stop the coming shit show.

Finally, the bell rings, a sharp burst of sound cutting through your thoughts, you quickly gather your things, grateful for the temporary reprieve from your spiraling thoughts. You and Connor exchange a brief, tense look before parting ways. You both have too much to figure out, too many gaps to fill, but there’s no time now.

Your next class, Entry Biology, is in another part of the building, tucked into a quieter wing. The halls are buzzing with students, their voices overlapping in casual conversations that feel alien to you, like a language you no longer fully understand. You keep your gaze down, trying to blend in as best as you can, making your way through the sea of faces and finding your classroom near the end of the corridor.

You step inside, spotting a seat at the back of the room. With no assigned seating, you slip into it, hoping it’ll give you some measure of privacy. As you set your bag down, you can’t remember if this was your usual seat or not. The details of your day-to-day routine from this life feel like a distant memory, blurring with the harsh reality of your previous one. If someone had taken this seat before, they’d just have to ask you to move. For now, you’re hoping they’ll leave you alone.

The room gradually fills with students, but no one seems to notice or care that you’re there. You breathe a small sigh of relief, your mind still reeling from the earlier realization that your memory has turned selectively barren. Biology… you struggle to recall the basic concepts, things that should be easy.

Mitosis? Ecosystems? Even the Cell Cycle feels slippery in your mind. The memories just won’t solidify. Your mind instinctively drifts back to the knowledge that does stick, but it’s all survival tactics, the hollow echo of combat drills, the weight of loss, and the survival instincts that you can’t shake.

Your teacher, Mr. Halloway, enters the room, adjusting his glasses as he sets down his materials on the desk. He’s a calm, unassuming presence with an easygoing manner that normally might have put you at ease. But today, you find it hard to focus, the anxiety lingering from earlier gnawing at you as he begins writing on the board.

“Alright, class, today we’re going to dive into cell structures and the basics of cell function,” he says, the chalk scratching faintly as he writes. “Let’s start with the organelles—things like the mitochondria, nucleus, and chloroplasts in plant cells.”

Okay! You knew about the Mitochondria: powerhouse of the cell.

You stare at the board, the words and diagrams meaningless in your mind, like someone dumped them there without context. There’s a flicker of recognition, but it feels shallow, inaccessible. You remember how cells look under a microscope, how textbooks diagram them out with labeled parts, but the function of each organelle slips through your grasp. Your heart sinks as you realize it isn’t just math—you really don’t remember anything.

You fish your phone out of your bag, concealing it beneath the desk, and quickly type a message to Your group chat.

(Y/n): Can’t remember anything from class feels like my brain’s wiped

A few seconds pass before Weston’s reply comes in.

Westy My Bestie: Same here

Can’t remember jack shit

Halligator: This is bad

Geometry is my best subject and now i can't even remember simple theorems

Ppl r gonna get sus

You read their responses, your grip on the phone tightening. At least you’re not alone in this, but it doesn’t ease the gnawing anxiety that your memories are failing you. The bell signaling the end of class is a lifeline, and you’re the first one out the door, weaving through the crowded hallway with your thoughts spinning.

The final bell rings for lunch, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Your last two classes so far, AP Human Geography and English I, had been easier to handle, but that gnawing feeling of something missing never left.

Geography was more about concepts, patterns of human behavior, and interactions rather than memorized facts, so you managed to piece together enough to get by. English, luckily, was more focused on analysis than strict recall, so your rusty memory didn’t hinder you as much. But the underlying dread still weighed on you, a nagging reminder that anything concrete, anything involving details you should remember, seemed out of reach.

You step into the hallway, the crowd surging around you, and immediately spot Weston waiting outside his classroom. He raises a hand in greeting, a familiar face amid the chaos, and together, you head toward the cafeteria. The line’s already growing, students chatting and joking around.. You scan the serving trays, landing on the day’s special: some sort of chicken sandwich with fries and a bag of chips.

A smile tugs at your lips despite the morning you’ve had; after living off scraps and rations in your past life, a hot meal—even a school cafeteria one—was a blessing. The memory of tearing open a ration pack, forcing down tasteless blocks of compressed food, flashes through your mind, and you’re struck by how strange it feels to have choices again.

Once you’ve paid for your food, you and Weston make your way through the bustling cafeteria and out into the open-air courtyard. It’s refreshing to be outside, where the air feels less claustrophobic and you can catch glimpses of the autumn leaves turning golden, the first hints of fall in the cool breeze. You spot Connor and Hallie already sitting at your usual table, near the far edge of the courtyard, both of them eating like they haven’t seen food in days.

"Hey," you greet them, sliding into the seat beside Connor while Weston sits across from you. You unwrap your sandwich, taking a hesitant bite. The flavors hit your taste buds, far better than anything you’d had during the rebellion. It was still a cafeteria meal, but right now, it might as well have been gourmet.

Hallie looks up from her sandwich, barely swallowing before launching into conversation. "God, you guys have no idea how weird today’s been." She glances around, ensuring no one’s within earshot before she continues. "I feel like I’m flunking every single class. I don’t remember anything useful."

Connor nods in agreement, his expression grim. “Same here. It’s like my brain’s refusing to do anything academic. Anything beyond survival skills… it’s just blank.”

Weston, who’s been munching on his fries, glances up, his face thoughtful. "Maybe it’s some kind of psychological thing? Like, we’re all for sure traumatized and now that we’re back, we’re struggling to fit in? Doesn’t the brain forget non-vital info under extreme stress or something?"

You nod, considering his theory, but it doesn’t offer much comfort. If this was some side effect of trauma, it was leaving you dangerously exposed.

"It makes sense," you admit, trying to keep your voice steady. "But it’s going to be hard to keep up the act if we can’t remember even basic things. Especially with…” Your voice trails off, not wanting to say his name out loud.

But Connor catches your drift. “Mark,” he mutters, a tense silence settling over the group. “He’s been watching you, hasn’t he?”

"Yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "He knows something’s up. He hasn’t figured out what, but he’s… suspicious."

Hallie’s eyes narrow, and her jaw clenches as she takes a sharp breath. "We need a plan, and fast. It’s one thing to keep low in class, but Mark? He’s not just anybody. If he thinks there’s something to find out, he’ll find it."

Your stomach twists as you think back to his words from that morning: “Whatever it is, I’ll find out, (Y/n).” You remembered the look in his eyes, the way he seemed to study you, his gaze cold and calculating, false care in his voice, like you were nothing more than a puzzle to be solved.

"Maybe," Weston says slowly, breaking the silence, "we could take a more passive approach. You know, let him think he’s figured you out. Act dumb or, like, make mistakes on purpose. Lead him onto a false answer."

Connor raises an eyebrow, considering it. "Might work, but it’s risky. If he thinks he’s being played, he won’t hold back.

You nod at Weston, “I think its worth a shot. We’re all screwed either way, so what's the harm?”

After your statement, everyone falls into a comfortable silence; most likely retreating into their own minds.

You continue eating in silence, the sounds of laughter and conversations around you feeling distant, like a world you’re no longer part of. Each bite you take tastes more and more hollow.

Finally, Connor breaks the silence again. “We need to figure out how we’re going to warn the Guardians. Without tipping off Mark or Omni-Man.”

You nod, your mind already spinning with ideas and doubts.

“We have to get a message to them somehow. We could use anonymous tips, maybe? Something that won’t trace back to us?” Hallie shoots out.

Weston shrugs. “Anonymous tips work in movies, sure, but this is real life. They’ll get curious, and then the government and Guardians will find out it was us. Plus, Omni-man and Invincible are two highly respected and trusted heroes, there's no guarantee they’d even believe the warning we send.”

“Weston has a point,” You say. “But, it doesn't matter. If they believe us or not, at least they’ll have the thought in the back of their minds. Even if it comes back to us, at least the Guardians will know.”

Because in a world where the clock is ticking, and survival is the only option—there’s no time left to be selfish over your own lives.

#neglected reader #platonic yandere #yandere invincible #yandere omniman #yandere mark grayson #yandere nolan grayson #debbie grayson #mark grayson #nolan grayson #omni man #invincible x reader #invincible

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dazzlingjaeyun · 2 days ago

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𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

bf!sunghoonx gf!reader (co-worker au!)

genre: smut, MDNI!

warnings: slightly jealous!hoon, marking, slight hair pulling, fingering, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), semi public sex? (in the office's storage room lol), cumming inside, overstimulation, sunghoon calls reader angel (duh) and good girl + lmk if i missed anything!!

word count: 1.9k

a/n: y'all remember when i said after party will be the first and last time i write smut? apparently, i lied

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

mature content under cut, minors do NOT interact!

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

"what the fuck was that?" sunghoon asked once he slammed the door behind you. the sound made you flinch, yet you couldn't help but smile slightly.

"what was what?" you asked, your voice sweet like honey as you looked up at him with feigned innocence.

he gritted his teeth. "you know damn well what," he locked the door and turned back to you, "what were you doing in there?"

you bit your lip slightly, torn between amusement over how worked up he'd gotten and anticipation of what would follow if only you pushed him further.

"closing the deal you would have missed otherwise, because you were busy giving mr choi death glares," you said ever so sweetly, taking a step towards him, so close your chest almost touched his, but not quite.

you looked up at him and saw his jaw twitching, something that always happened when he was mad or upset. it wasn't only about his ego – he would have been able to close the deal, 100%. it was that mr choi was downright flirting with you for the entirety of the meeting.

"you didn't have to flirt back for a stupid deal," he protested. his hands found your hips, pulling you closer and closing the last bit of distance between you. you felt the heat of sunghoon's body against yours, not sure if it had been from the stress of the meeting or the anger he'd built up during that.

"leaving the fucker thinking he'd have a chance," he murmured, digging his fingertips into your skin almost possessively.

there was something about the rawness in his voice and the way he kept you close that made you want to push his buttons even further, although you knew you shouldn't.

"jealous?" you asked, a little bolder, as you brought one hand up to softly grab and toy with his tie. "i wasn't flirting, i was being nice."

"unnecessarily so," he added, looking down at his tie in your hand.

"you were the one who didn't want to make us public," you teased, pulling him down by his tie to brush your lips just slightly against his.

sunghoon's annoyed groan was muffled when one of his hands moved up to cup the back of your neck, making sure you wouldn't leave. he leaned down a little more to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue over your bottom lip. you opened your mouth, but he pulled back ever so slightly, to reply.

"doesn't mean you get to be flirty," he kissed you again, this time a bit harder, a bit less patient. "you're still mine."

the possessiveness in his voice and the roughness in his touch settled between your legs, sending fresh waves of heat through your body with each second that passed.

"am i?" you challenged between kisses. sunghoon grabbed your hip tighter and walked until your back hit the small shelf in the back of the tiny room. it held binders and a pile of loose files on top of it. without breaking the kiss, he carelessly shoved the files aside, landing them on the floor, and grabbed the back of your thighs to lift you up and sit you down on the shelf.

only then, sunghoon pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your lips from how messy your kiss had been. he placed his hands on your thighs, forcing your legs open, which caused your skirt to ride up slightly, and stepped between them – so close you could feel his already hardening cock against your clothed core.

"you are," he replied, leaning down to kiss your neck. his hands found their way to your hips again, holding you tightly as his kisses turned into nibbles and bites.

your eyes fluttered shut and you placed your hands on sunghoon's shoulders, digging your fingers into his shirt whenever he found the spots he'd grown familiar with by now.

"made it clear for everyone," he said satisfied after licking over another mark he'd just left, pulling back slightly to admire the mess of hickeys and bite marks all over your neck.

"sunghoon," you said, your voice a little breathless, as you pulled him closer again, bucking your hips up just slightly to meet his own.

he groaned lowly at the contact, sliding your skirt up fully so it rested around your waist and pulled you against his crotch again. your breath hitched, your hands dropping from his shoulders to his hips where you started to open his belt, but he grabbed your wrists to stop you.

you opened your mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again when sunghoon kneeled down in front of you, coming to eye level with your cunt. he slid your soaked underwear down your legs and shoved it into the back pocket of his pants.

"so wet for me and i barely even touched you," he remarked, looking up with a smug grin for a second, before burying his face between your thighs and licking one long stripe along your wet folds without further warning.

your eyes fluttered shut again, your hands automatically finding their way to his hair. he closed his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it again with a satisfied hum.

"shit, angel, you taste so fucking sweet," he mumbled, his words muffled by your cunt. he alternated between soft kitten licks against your folds and clit and pushing his tongue past your lips into your drenched cunt.

he was hard, painfully so, but he was determined to make you cum before he'd even think about himself. sunghoon loved the taste of you. he could eat you out for hours if you let him, and he'd die a happy man if only it was with his face between your thighs.

you slightly scratched his scalp, pulling on his hair to pull his face closer into your heat, and letting out a choked moan when his nose bumped against your clit.

you could feel sunghoon's lips curling up into a smile. "that's right, angel, let everyone know who you belong to," he slurred before focusing his tongue on your clit again and placing a finger on your entrance, slowly pushing it inside.

"f-fuck, sunghoon," you cried out as he curled his finger just in the right spot, "please"

sunghoon suppressed another grin, adding a second finger and picking up the pace.

"cum for me like a good girl."

it only took the demanding tone in his deep voice to let the knot in your stomach snap – to come undone right on his fingers, while his tongue kept circling around your clit. he pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, helping you ride out your orgasm, before pulling them out, standing up and holding them up to your mouth.

your cheeks flushed, but you parted your lips and swirled your tongue around his fingers once he'd placed them in your mouth, tasting your own release.

sunghoon's pants tightened uncomfortably more at the sight – you looking up at him with those innocent eyes as if you weren't sucking your own cum off his fingers after he'd eaten you out in the office's storage room.

you reached for his belt again and this time he let you open it. you unbottoned his pants and opened the zipper, making sure to trace your fingers along his clothed hardness.

you were about to slide off the shelf, ready to return the favor to your boyfriend, but sunghoon placed his hands on your hips again, stopping you.

he pulled down his pants and boxers just enough to free his aching cock, painfully hard and leaking precum from the tip.

you bit your lips, carefully reaching to touch him, curling your fingers around his length and softly sliding your thumb over his slit. sunghoon shivered under your touch, hissing a curse and throwing his head back a little as you began to pump his shaft up and down.

"angel, i– fuck, stop," he struggled, but gripped your hand when you didn't obey. instead, he brought his tip to your soaked cunt, teasing along your folds just enough to make both of you whimper, before he aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in fully without another thought.

you gasped at the sudden stretch, your hand flying over your mouth to muffle your sounds. sunghoon gave you some moments to adjust to his size before starting to move when you gave him a little nod. his thrusts were painfully slow, letting you feel every inch, but it felt equally as intimate.

"hoon," you whispered, not trusting your voice.

he lowered his head and rested his forehead against yours. "yes, angel?"

all your boldness was gone and you felt almost too shy to ask for more, so you just bucked up your hips, hoping he'd understand.

"shy suddenly?" he asked with a grin, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, but still complying.

his thrusts turned faster, harsher, his tip kissing your cervix each time. you tried to move against him, meeting his thrusts, but sunghoon's hands were so strongly holding onto your hips that you couldn't move – that it would for sure leave marks.

you gripped his shoulders for support again, and buried your face in the crook of his neck in an attempt to dampen the moans that fell from your lips uncontrollably by now.

but your sweet sounds only spurred him to thrust harder, deeper – anything it took to hear his name roll off your tongue like a mantra.

"s-sunghon, i– nghh, close," was all you managed to say as you could feel your second orgasm approaching faster than ever.

his hands left your hips, one of them grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, while the other found its way between your bodies, drawing figure eights around your clit. your eyes fluttered shut, but you forced them open when you felt a light tug on your hair.

"look at me when you cum," sunghoon demanded, his gaze so dark that you did your best to keep your eyes open as the waves of your orgasm rushed over you.

the sight of you cumming, your high pitched moans, and the way your walls clenched around him would have been enough to trigger sunghoon's climax too, but he held back, not wanting to stop just yet.

he kept fucking into you at the same pace, the pleasure of your orgasm starting to turn into overstimulation.

"hoon," you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders deeper, "too– too much"

sunghoon lowered his head to give you a soft kiss that starkly contrasted the intensity of his pounding. "just a little longer, angel," he whispered, "you'll be a good girl and take it, right?"

you nodded, closed your eyes, and it took only a few more thrusts until you felt his cock twitch inside you. sunghoon came with a low groan, painting your walls white.

he pulled you against him, your head resting on his chest, and held you close to his body until both of your heartbeats steadied and you caught your breaths. he slowly pulled out, watching as the mixture of yours and his cum dripped down on the shelf, before looking up at you again.

"you okay?" he asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

you only nodded, not yet trusting yourself to speak.

"good. then turn around and bend over for me."

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍��

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#dazzlingjaeyun writes #enhypen au #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #engene #sunghoon au #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts

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yanderefarm · 2 days ago

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I want to spread a rumor about Emil cheating, make sure nobody knows it was me, then act all mad at him and punish him for it

Also ygs better square up Cherros anon and Jerry anon

-🐕‍🦺

ive been craving to hurt emil. rofan villain reader my beloved, a cute husband to bully and all his money 🥰

cw;; abuse, cheating, non-con (implied), gaslighting, angst

the nobles always talk, talk, talk. it's not odd for them to spread meaningless gossip. it's odd when unsubstantiated gossip makes it into the most popular newspaper in the capital and becomes the headline on everyone's lips. that took your whole allowance at the information guild but it was worth it to see your husband's face now.

the pictures were the best touch, you really should thank the guild master later. undeniable evidence of emil being intimate with one of his maids was sitting in front of him on the desk. his advisor was cautiously scolding him for ruining his reputation that he had just started to build up. the image of loving husband dashed in an instant. he started to raise his voice his hand pounding on the table in anger. that was your cue.

you threw the door of the office open with force.

"emil! are you going to explain yourself? why are all my maids talking about you ch-"

your eyes caught the images, you hadn't actually seen them yet. god they were good, they made you actually feel a bit sick to see. perfect.

".... what is that?"

you watch his face drop as all his anger melts into panic. poor bastard tries to cover up the images.

"this doesn't concern you."

"... you're fucking one of your maids?"

the accusation burns his heart and he feels like he's going to be sick. he tries to cover the images more.

"this doesn't-" thwack!

you slap him across the face as hard as you can, your wedding ring leaving an imprint on his cheek.

"everyone get out. i need to speak to my husband privately."

his servants and advisors scurried out of there, afraid of the situation about to play out, only your right hand maid stayed. she closed the behind the last person to leave, locking it for you. you let out a heavy sigh as you leaned against his desk, your hand rubbing your temples. emil didn't look up, his eyes wide but you could see there was fear in them even with his head hung.

you picked up one of the pictures, one where the maid was clearly caught in the middle of having sex with him. you'd been out of the capital a few weeks ago for an event in your home kingdom. really it was just an excuse to let the guild master do what he needed. he really exceeded your expectations. it was hard not to smile.

"i don't remember doing that, please believe me."

"oh?" you set the picture down and shot him a glare. "just because you don't remember fucking her i should forgive you? what about kissing her? what about pushing her against the window behind you?"

"i-"

he watched helplessly as you picked up one of the pictures, your hand shaking. oh, when you got your hands on the royal treasury you were going to drown the guild master in gold. you had told him about emil's hatred for letting you leave the palace grounds, how emil wouldn't even take you to the cafe you so desperately wanted to go to. and here was a picture of him in the same cafe with the maid.

"what is this?"

"i-i don't know."

you forced your face to scrunch up in anger despite how excited you were. you were going to enjoy this too much. you turned to your maid who was still standing by the door.

"do you have my riding crop?"

"yes, your highness." she presented it to you and you handed her the picture of him at the cafe in exchange.

"what would you do if you were in my position?"

"i would ask for a divorce, your highness."

"no-"

emil's poor voice cracked but all he got was another glare.

"then I suppose I'm being merciful, right?"

"you are far too kind to that cheating filth, your highness."

you walked over to stand beside emil who already looked so broken and frightened. you ran your riding crop up his cheek.

"take your shirt off. unless you would rather the divorce?"

emil's body slipped to the ground as his knees gave out underneath him. tears started to stream from his eyes like the dam had finally broken.

"please, dont leave me, please, please."

you nudged him with the riding crop.

"shirt. off."

his hands were shaking as he started to unbutton his shirt.

#replies #yandere king #🐕‍🦺 anon #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #yandere oc #male reader #top male reader #yandere x reader

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etheraltides · 16 hours ago

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CHANGES 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pregnant!Reader

Summarize: all the changes in your body finally takes a toll on you as you’re getting ready for a special night.

Warning(s): body insecurities, pregnancy.

A/N: Are the small letters annoying? I’m not sure if I should keep my works with them or use the regular ones - let me know, please.

You stood in front of the mirror, hands trembling as you adjusted the fabric of your dress. It clung tightly around your belly, and every curve, every change in your body that had come with pregnancy, felt amplified under the soft light of the closet. You tried to see yourself as Rafe saw you, to embrace the way your body had changed, but it was like staring at a stranger. What happened to me?

Your mind raced with painful thoughts, each one heavier than the last. I don’t look like myself. I don’t even feel like myself.

The doubts came in waves, and with each one, your breath grew shakier. He’s going to look at me tonight and see how much I’ve changed. Maybe he’s already noticed. Maybe he’s already started wishing… What if he decides to go to someone prettier, thinner? Could I blame him?

A tear slipped down your cheek, unbidden and salty, stinging against your skin. And that’s when the door opened. Rafe entered, his footsteps soft and careful, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his face instantly softening.

He was getting used to your pregnancy mood swings by now but he hadn’t seen you crying often - it was usually you being clingy or acting like a momzilla.

“Hey, sweetheart…” His voice was gentle, and he took a slow step forward, his eyes scanning your face with concern. “What’s going on?”

You tried to force a smile, to play it off, but the effort only made your throat tighten. You looked down, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I… I don’t know, Rafe. I just…” You swallowed hard, barely managing to get the words out. “I don’t feel like myself anymore. I feel… ugly.”

The word lingered in the air, raw and unguarded. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and even saying it aloud made it feel more real. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze, afraid of what you might see there.

Tonight would be the reopening party of the restaurant Rafe recently bought, a new milestone in his business career. Both of you were very excited for tonight and you couldn’t stop the guilty for not being able to control your own tears and mind just minutes prior of the event.

Rafe didn’t say anything for a moment, and when he reached out to take your hand, his touch was so tender that it made your heart ache. He guided you gently to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you so he could look up into your eyes.

“Look at me, love,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly over the back of your hand. “Please, just look at me.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, and the warmth there was almost overwhelming. His eyes held a mix of love and sadness, but no hint of the judgment or disappointment you’d feared.

“I don’t think I could ever explain how beautiful you are to me.” He said, voice steady and full of conviction. “And I don’t mean just tonight, or just because of the way you look. I mean you. The woman I love, who’s carrying our baby. There’s no part of you that isn’t beautiful to me.”

Your lip trembled, and you felt another tear slip down your cheek. “But I don’t… I don’t feel like myself anymore, Rafe. My body’s changing, and I look in the mirror, and I just… I can’t see the woman I used to be. I don’t know how to feel beautiful when I barely feel like me. I look… disgusting.”

Rafe’s hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear as he held you close, like he was afraid you’d break if he let go. “I know this has been hard on you” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And I know I can’t truly understand what you’re going through. But I need you to know… I don’t want the woman you used to be. I want you, right here, right now, just as you are.”

He took your hand and brought it to his chest, pressing it over his heart so you could feel the steady, reassuring beat. “Every single part of this journey, every change, every moment… it just makes me love you more. Because you’re the woman I chose. And you’re the woman I’ll always choose, no matter what.”

The weight of his words began to melt away the cold edges of doubt, warming you from the inside out. But the insecurities still lingered, clinging stubbornly. “But what if I… stay like this? What if I don’t look the way I used to? What if… you stop seeing me this way?”

Rafe’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. “Love… that’s not even possible. You have to understand, I’m not just in love with what I see on the outside. I’m in love with you. With the person you are. The woman who’s so strong, who loves so deeply, who’s going to be the most amazing mother.” His voice softened, his thumb brushing soothingly over your cheek. “That’s who I fell in love with. That’s who I see, every time I look at you. The woman who’s always been by my side through thick and thin.”

The tears kept coming, but this time, they didn’t feel quite so heavy. You let yourself lean into his touch, let yourself feel the warmth of his hand against your skin, grounding you in the moment.

“I just… I’m scared, Rafe.” You whispered. “I’m scared that I’ll never feel like myself again, that I’ll never be the same. That’ll be a bad mother.”

He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger as he held you close. “Then let me be there with you.” He murmured. “Let me remind you, every single day, how beautiful you are to me. Because if I have anything to say about it, you’re never going to forget it. Not for one second.”

His words wrapped around you, sinking into the broken pieces and holding them together, stronger than before. And as he held you, his arms a safe haven against the storm of your thoughts, you felt, for the first time in a long time, a quiet, steady peace.

Rafe held you in silence, his hand holding your head against his chest as he allowed you to take a moment. It ached his heart to hear the things you said, the look in your eyes.

“I will need a few minutes to retouch my makeup.” You took a deep breath slightly pulling away from him, your manicured fingers quickly wiping away the tears on his jacket as you mumbled an apologize that he dismissed instantly.

“Take your time, sweetheart.” He winked, his eyes looking at you with an intensity and warmth that made your cheeks burn - as if he was looking at the most precious thing in the world.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you

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awkuni · 2 days ago

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༻⋆ 。𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓲 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽, 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓷 𝓮𝔁𝓽𝓻𝓪 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 . ♱

part of k.tober ノ( separate ) kabukimono, scaramouche, wanderer, kuronushi x fem!readerノnsfw — mdni. marking. biting. make-up sex. overstimulation. cunnilingus. squirting. mating press. grinding. unprotected sex. creampie. hair pulling. doggy. fingering. edging. wc .. 5410

kabukimono always hated when you both got into a disagreement, it left a sour taste in his mouth that he couldn’t totally describe. the sight of your frowning form on the couch, head hanging low and arms crossed in front of your chest, made his body tense up. he didn’t enjoy seeing you like that, not one bit.

sure, it was all for a mundane reason, but he couldn’t help but feel as if the weight of it rested on his shoulders—the heavy guilt of upsetting you. he hated being apart from you, even if it was for a couple minutes. these last few seconds seemed to stretch into hours as he watched you, his teeth coming to nip his bottom lip.

he slowly makes his way up to you, planning to cheer you up. he didn’t like the frown etched onto your normally serene face, it made his stomach churn with uneasiness. the fact that he partially caused this doesn’t help with that face either. he fidgets with the sleeves of his shirt, trying to accumulate the right words to say in this situation.

“i’m sorry,” he spoke, meekly, sitting next to you on the couch. upon realising that you don’t intend on answering him he huffs, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and looking around the room. it was a way of distracting himself as he wasn’t too keen on seeing the clench of your jaw; were you seriously still mad at him, or were you just being petty?

despite his worries, and him still being partially annoyed as well, he turns to face you, bringing a hand to your cheeks and forcing you to face him. his eyes tried to scan your own, almost as if he was digging to find the pearl in them which would give him the slightest shine of hope that you may forgive him. he never found it—he always managed to find it—so maybe it just… wasn’t there.

he swallows a knot in his throat, a knot which was formed out of pure annoyance. why, why couldn’t you just push past this? it wasn’t like it was a big argument or anything. he didn’t understand.

“what can i do,” he starts off with a mumble. ��what can i do to make you feel better? you’ve avoided me all day.”

you shake your head, showing no interest in anything he had to say. albeit his tone being honey sweet, he can’t figure out how to make you legitimately pay attention to him. so, he needs to do something which will prevent you from being able to ignore him, he needs to make it physically impossible for you to resist, and he knows exactly how to accomplish that.

he abruptly leans into your body, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. a gasp of shock left your lips. you didn’t know what you were expecting from him, but you didn’t expect him to do that. although it was a surprise, it wasn’t exactly unwelcomed by you. you begin to reciprocate his affection, hands going to his neck and pulling him even closer, so that he was looming over your fragile frame.

it didn’t take long for you to notice that his intention wasn’t just to kiss you, his hand tugging on your waistband made that abundantly clear.

he brings a hand to your chest, pushing you down so that you laid back on the couch. you could feel the heat of his lips slowly etching their pattern onto yours; that, combined with a hand trailing down your side to meet your hip, sends a shudder of excitement down your spine.

even though his efforts were slowly reeling you in, he hadn’t manage to pull you out of the water just yet. no worries, he’ll just have to keep pushing forward.

his lips disconnect from yours. now, there were kisses which began to trail down the side of your neck, occasionally nipping and leaving red marks in areas most tormented. his hand dips into the fabric of your waistband, hooking underneath and tugging them down in hungry motions.

due to your shock, your legs attempted to close, however they were swiftly caught by the palms of his hands. a shake of his head was enough to burn out your fiery ambition to deny him what he wanted, so ultimately your legs fell limp at his side. you swallow back a yelp as he keeps kissing over your clothes, leading down to the inner portion of your thighs. upon his eyes meeting your folds, you find your face heating up, a red tint arising on your pristine cheeks.

his lips press up against your core, tongue darting out to lick up the arousal which began to pool around your cunt. your eyes close in bliss, head pressing back against the cushions on the couch as his mouth sought out your clit, licking and sucking on the nub desperately.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles into your soaked pussy, already getting drunk on your honeyed slick. the noises he reluctantly lets out are no short of whimpers, a verbal testimony to how much he missed you. “i don’ like you ignoring me like that… want y’too focus on me…”

he licks a line up your cunt, his tongue teasingly prodding at your entrance before it trails back to your clit, suckling harshly on the throbbing nub.

“w-well i’m focusing on you now…” your voice comes out as a fleeting breath, too wound up in your felicity to think of anything else. your mind felt hazy, a heavy fog of lust obscuring your senses and making you delve deeper into your own desires. because of such a reason, your hand manages to entangle itself into his silken locks, the indigo becoming weaved in between your fingers like a ribbon.

you’re pushing his face into your pussy with a sob, the euphoric feeling of his tongue like no other. the muscle swirls against your nerves, tracing illegible patterns into the flesh, painting a precious picture on you like you were his canvas. he knew that you weren’t gonna last much longer if he kept going on like this, the way your moans became more frequent told him all he needed to know.

just like that, you came undone below him, fluids gushing on him in a vulgar display, showing him just how much pleasure he could hand to you by simply flicking his tongue in the right way. your orgasm shocked you to the core, leaving you breathless.

you blinked back tears which had unknowingly welled into your waterline, already beading into your lashes like precious pearls, the pearls which he had been searching for earlier.

although you were completely spent, you made a weak attempt at sitting up again, only to be forced back down into the position you were before. “where are you going?” he spoke, a mischievous smirk on his face.

your mouth opened in preparation to say something, however you didn’t have any time to answer, because you could already see his head disappearing between your thighs once more, intent to please you until you couldn’t think of anything but him.

getting into small, petty arguments with scaramouche wasn’t a rare occurrence, his ego was simply too large to take any criticism you gave him, and you trying to ignore him, even when he tried to talk it out? it only made his fury grow.

he rolls his eyes upon hearing your voice through the door of your bed chamber, promptly telling him to ‘go away’ as you weren’t in the mood to deal with him. he grinds his teeth together, fist clenching as he slams it into the door once more. in his opinion, you were being too dramatic — too bratty. suddenly, he had a strong sense to put you in your place. his anger got the best of him and he decided to barge into the room with such force that you flinched.

you could tell that his normal reticent demeanour was crumbling as he approached you, practically pouncing on you. his firm grip on your shoulders prevents you from fighting back, pinning you down to the bed as his face comes close to yours. the sight of your stunned form underneath him sent heat down south, his eyes boring into your figure like he was preying upon you.

“what’s your problem, huh?” you felt weak, as if you were no match against his fortitude, the tone in his voice only making your stomach swirl with dread. he wasn’t asking you, he was more so demanding an answer. upon realising how pissed he was, you couldn’t find the faculty to reply. your brittle bones begin to tremble, your head trying to turn away from him with a pout.

he lets out a short, animus scoff, hand coming to grip your jaw and making you face him. despite the malice in his actions, the look in his eyes provided evidence to the contrary. within the darkened vinyls of indigo, underlying adoration was spinning through the colours, slim, yet still present.

“not gonna talk? oh, i see how it is…” he menacingly coos out, hands grazing down the sides of your body and clutching onto your thighs. his hand trails up to the bottom of your shorts, looking at them with such venom. they were an unwanted barrier, a barrier which could be easily discarded.

after finding little to no resistance from you, he urgently tugs the clothing off of your body, leaving your bottom half in nothing but your soaked panties. he smirks, a devious expression which only made you cower underneath him further. this was all amusing to him — how you had previously tried to one up him, however you were immediately shut down the minute he was on top of you. he had you wrapped around his finger, and he was pleased with it.

if you weren’t going to willingly talk to him, he would just have to fuck you into submission.

“already so wet f’me?” he feigns surprise, smirking down at you whilst pressing his knee up to your core. the action elicited a pitiful whimper from your lips and you had to use all your willpower to not chase the friction. “oh, what am i saying, of course you are… you’re always so desperate.”

in order to punctuate his words, he rubs his knee up against your crotch again, just to see you squirm deliciously. your hands bunch up into the sheets, a soft moan erupting from his actions. as soon as you begin to make a move against him, he takes his knee away, leaving you frantic and craving more of him, which is exactly what he wanted.

he shakes his head in disbelief, one moment you were pettily overlooking him then the next you couldn’t bear to part from him. even though you were seemingly submitting due to his actions, you still weren’t talking, only letting out pitiful noises to vocalise your pleasure.

“you still not gonna talk to me?” he leans down closer to your neck, pressing a soft yet firm kiss into the crook of it. his teeth nip at the skin, as if to try and force you to talk by conflicting your pleasure with pain, yet you only bite your lip to try and silence yourself. he clicks his tongue, ripping off your panties with such force you’d be surprised if the fabric didn’t damage.

adjusting your positions, he ends up between your legs, promptly pulling his shorts and underwear down to reveal his throbbing erection, tip flush and leaking pre already. he gives a couple quick pumps to the length before lining it up to your slick entrance, slowly pressing the tip inside of you.

a short yet sweet moan pulls itself out of your throat, leaving your lungs to hang dry as you panic down gulps of air. the stretch was something you could never get used to, even after all the times he has fucked you silly. you hiccup, a soft sound with the aim to spur him on.

your attempt seemingly worked, as he drives out of you only to thrust back in with full force. the crown of your head pushes up against the plush pillows as they seemed to be your only means of support in the vicinity. your hands scramble for purchase, fingertips digging into the material as if it was the only thing that would enable you to focus on his movements. he seems to find your sweet spot with articulate thrusts, beginning to abuse that weakness relentlessly.

the fuzzy feeling in your head begins to expand, wrapping its sharpened teeth around every waking thought of yours and consuming it whole. thinking began to hurt your head and you could do no more but plead and whine for more of him. it was like he had cast a spell on you, making you fully dependant on him wherever he drove his cock deep into you.

“i’m sorry!” you wail out, bringing a hand over your mouth to hopefully muffle your moans, but you had no way to silence yourself. your moans are spilling out unwillingly, sending a flurry of arousal straight down to scaramouche’s core. “please… please— i’m gonna cum…”

the sound of you pleading with him and practically begging for mercy brought him great satisfaction, one which; in his opinion; could never be topped. deciding that you had done enough, and that you had obeyed him enough for his liking, he brings a hand down to your clit, tracing the bud in rapid circles to provide you that extra stimulation needed to push you over the edge.

it’s not long until supernovas are bursting through your eyelids, covering the world you know in bright flashes and colourful sparks. your back arches more into him, lips parting in a silent scream as you’re crushed between the thick walls of your pleasure. you feel your breath physically ripped from you with each thrust, more and more pleasure coming over your body before it finally subsides.

you only pay attention to reality again once he abruptly pulls out, grasping onto your waist to flip you onto your stomach, face buried in the pillow and hips hiked high.

the dumbed-out look on your face brings amusement to him, and he chuckled as you looked back with those weary eyes of yours. “you thought we were done?” he scoffs out, emphasising his words with a single thrust into you. suddenly he’s buried deep within your tight walls again, not giving you any room to voice your complaints. “not even close.”

frankly, wanderer could care less, you were the one that decided to snap at him when he supposedly ‘ruined’ the project you two were working on. however, you claiming that you would’ve been ‘better off’ working with some lowly scholars really ticked something off within him. you knew fine well that you wouldn’t manage it without him, so what’s with your attitude?

he sees you sitting at your desk, head on the table and seemingly staring off into space. you had a pen in your hand, yet made no move to write with it, your mind so preoccupied with the argument that you didn't even realise his figure watching closely from the doorway. upon the realisation that you were oblivious to him, he takes a step into the room, then another, and another until he was situated right behind you.

feeling his heavy breath fan against the crown of your head, you whip around to look at him with groundbreaking speed, so swiftly that wanderer would be shocked if you didn’t end up with a pulled muscle. the narrowed look in your eyes has him taken aback as he simply assumed that you would roll your eyes then give in and let him help you, but in this case that wasn’t the outcome.

“get out,” you spoke with a half-hearted scowl, a pitiful attempt at standing your ground. your futile attempt at acting tough made him chuckle, his hands bracing on the back of your chair as he stares down at you. your bratty and petty wouldn’t work on him — none of your empty threats ever managed to work. he knows that you’re too head over heels to legitimately direct your anger towards him.

“or what?” the mocking tone was evident in his voice, only acting as lint to your burning rage. you’re left to stare at him, not knowing quite what to say, proving to him that you had already lost this charade of yours and actually weren’t all that mad at him.

you turn around again, grip tightening so much that you thought the pen might snap in your hold. he just leans closer, clearly not giving up until you give him a definitive answer. the determination was obvious in his intent gaze, indigo eyes glaring into yours, but you refused to meet his.

oh, well, that wasn’t a problem for him, he could wait here all day; it was your own paltriness keeping you in this situation.

“or,” he grips the hair on the back of your head, pulling your head back to meet his gaze. “what?” his words were dipped with more venom than before, the tone dripping off of his tongue like second nature. you didn’t expect him to want an actual answer, but it seems he was.

“nothing, just leave me be, i’m going to finish this project without your help. i don’t need you.”

that was the biggest lie you had said to date, he couldn’t even picture you trying anything without his help, so how was he supposed to believe that could appear in reality? you always came running to him for the most basic things, so he highly doubted that you would complete such a complex assignment without him. you were spouting nonsense, and he wasn’t having it any longer.

he grasps you by the forearm, whirling your whole body around and pressing you against the table. the hard wood dug against your lower back, earning a wince from your lips, one of the only submissive notices you had let out this whole day. his face comes close to yours, an act of intimidation as he sought out the timid nature which was always underlying somewhere within whatever crumbling facade you had.

he quirks an eyebrow, looking at you with something that could only be described as hilarity. he found your snarky attitude funny, not taking it seriously at all. “if you’re so sure that you can do it without me, why isn’t it finished already? from what i’ve seen, you’ve been on the same part for almost thirty minutes…”

unfortunately, his taunts were working, as you began to become more avoidant of his gaze. it was rewarding in a sense, seeing you slowly crumble underneath his gaze after trying to one up him like that. his featherlight touch trails to your jaw, keeping a tight grip on it to ensure your eyes were hooked onto his.

his patience with you was wearing thin, the thick tension which tied you two together only building up more and more the longer you both stared into each others eyes. it feels oddly intimate and he can’t quite figure out what was going on in that empty head of yours. you looked at him like you were a dog, obedient and compliant to his every command.

abruptly, he turns you back around, pressing your upper body down into the table. you winced at the force, but luckily it wasn’t enough to hurt you that much. your eyes widen as he presses his hardening cock against your ass, his grinds barely noticeable, yet you could feel everything and his intentions were clear.

you whine, a needy noise which only managed to degrade yourself in his eyes. the noise managed to rouse a sly grin from him, his body leaning down so he could whisper into your ear.

“see? don’t act like you don’t need me…”

promptly, he pulls your panties to the side, running a nimble finger through your folds to test the sensitivity of your wetness. seeing you jerk was like a feast for his eyes, as if you were a drug which he couldn’t fathom quitting.

the sight of you jerking back against his fingers arises something within him, a primal urge to ravish you which he didn’t even know could possess him. gnawing on his bottom lip, he begins to tug down his bottoms along with his underwear, not planning on waiting any longer — he wanted to prove that you needed him, and he wouldn’t stop until he gets you to vocalise it.

he grinds the head of his cock into your hole slowly, keeping a firm hold on the back of your head as he generously sinks into you, not stopping until his hips were flush with the curve of your ass. he groans at the familiar feeling, your gummy walls fluttering around his girth as it accommodated to the intrusion.

tears collect in your eyes at the delicate burn, along with the overwhelming pleasure as he begins to move. he almost pulls all the way out, only to thrust back in with full force. you yelp, hands scrambling for any support, clinging onto the unused papers on the table.

your soft moan reach his ears, giving him newfound motivation to keep pistoning his cock in and out of your tight cunt, adoring the way you seemed to squirm every time his tip brushed against that singular spongey spot inside of you. noises of pleasure seems to constantly spill from your drool-coated lips, your back arching as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon.

“s-scara… i need you! i need you so badly…” you finally crack, body shuddering as his fingers come into contact with your clit, abusing the bud with slow yet harsh strokes. each ministration brought shivers throughout your whole body, giving just that little bit extra to aid your coming orgasm.

hot explosions of pleasure burst behind your eyes, coating your vision in sloppy blurs as you came with a loud cry. the feeling of you gushing around his length only causes him to spiral, leading him down a rabbit hole of his own release. with one final thrust he buries himself to the hilt, spilling his warm seed deep inside of you and you’d be surprised if he wasn’t fucking you with the intent to get you knocked up.

“that’s what i wanted to hear. it wasn’t that hard, was it?” he coos mockingly, pulling you up so that your back was pressed flush against his, his cock still buried deep within your cunny. seeing the confused look on your face, he snickers, slowly grinding his cock back into you, just to keep you on the edge.

“oh, you think i’m letting you go?” he mocks you, akin to that of a predator belittling it’s prey. to accentuate his point, he delivers a harsh thrust into you, the jolt which wracks through you only spurring him on even more. “no, i’m not stopping until you’re chanting that you need me… and it seems that’s gonna take a while with that attitude of yours.”

kuronushi’s eye twitches as he realises that you were still locking yourself in your shared bedroom, a sharp huff of disapproval leaving his scowl-ridden lips. he rolled his eyes upon hearing you still berate him for being out, apparently ‘without your knowledge’, so you had the ingenious idea to footle, making sure to not associate yourself with him for the full day out of pure spite.

“are you still mad? you know, you have no reason to be—”

“i do have a reason to be!” you shout at him as he stood outside of the room, your voice more enraged than anything other emotion. you rest your head on the door, feeling a bit sick at the notion that he was standing there, outside — waiting for you to come running back to him. you wanted to do that more than you initially thought, but you knew that it would prove a point which he made at the start of your argument — you being too clingy towards him.

you could only sense his growing irritation through the wood. although it concealed and locked out his full figure from you, the atmosphere seeping in through the cracks was like a hazy mist, as if once inhaled you would soon succumb to his every whim like a mindless servant.

unfortunately for you, you found yourself growing increasingly intoxicated to the imaginary haze.

“let me in, we can talk about it. you surely can’t leave me out here all night, can you?” his voice was even more alluring, warming your soul like a fireplace during the winter. it thawed your flaming pettiness at record speed and you found your resolve bending and wavering under his command.

shakily, your hands reach for the door handle, closing around the cold metal with slight reluctance. even if you wanted to think twice, you couldn’t, as your hands moved faster than your rationale and you open the door.

the contrast of his voice compared to his actions was evident as he immediately swung the door open, startling you slightly. your eyes widen as he grips onto your shoulders harshly, pressing you up against the wall so you had no means of escape. you felt belittled in this situation, binded by his hands and trapped by his figure, it was almost like he had full possession over you now.

the look in your eyes was pitiful, a pure helplessness presenting itself in soft glints as you looked up at him through your lashes. the need to take every fibre of your being became prominent in his mind and he felt the need to be physically restrained. he runs a hand down to your hips, latching his palms onto them and using them as extra leverage to control you.

“what happened to that bratty attitude of yours now, hm?” he coos out, almost mocking you as he comes face to face with you. the soft breaths which left his slightly parted lips sent shudders down your spine, trepidation settling itself within your gut as he leans in closer. you could barely process his hand lowering down to your thighs and kneading at the flesh. you, in turn, find yourself yelping at the brawn of his grip.

your previous combative method of speech is slowly crushed beneath you and you were briskly reduced into a pile of decompiled speech and illiterate thoughts. you stared at him as if he just spoke in a foreign language, completely clueless and dumbfounded from the total flip of his attitude.

“were we not gonna ta—”

“we were,” he sternly cuts you off, not wanting to hear any more of your rambling or snarky remarks. “but i changed my mind, you never learn when we verbally talk it out, so it looks like i just have to teach you a different way…” his finger trails down your thigh, grasping onto the back of your knee and momentarily picking you up.

before you could process anything that was happening in reality he had pushed you back, your body falling onto the bed with a soft thump. you felt yourself wanting to sink into the pillows more — get comfy — but kuronushi clearly had other plans for you.

he manoeuvres himself so that he was situated behind you, arms wrapped around your waist in order to keep you flush to his chest. the sprinkled trail of his kisses which descended upon your neck sent your heart into a flurry of motion. the barrage of his lips weren’t the only thing descending, however. unbeknownst to you his hands had began trailing lower until they reached the waistband of your pants.

he takes a gauge at your expression subtly, seeing how your eyes were steadily trained on his hand as it seemingly disappeared underneath the fabric. it only took a matter of seconds for his fingers to press against your clit, magnetising to the bundle of nerves akin to how a shark would be immediately drawn to blood. in this case, he was the shark, wrapping his teeth around the prey, which was you.

your hips jerk back almost instantaneously, a shaky moan tittering its way out of your lips. the gnawing need which was filling your every sense overwhelmed you; his touch, his lips, him, it all felt so surreal and otherworldly that you began to feel your brain drifting off. quick blitzes of tender euphoria spark from your clit as his fingers abused it, constantly rubbing at an even pace which only drove you deeper and deeper into your growing lust.

you wanted nothing more than for him to consume you whole, it was almost a carnal desire which you couldn’t bear to hold off any longer. you wanted him — and equally, he wanted you. he knew fine well what his fingers did to you and he couldn’t help but play with you for a bit.

so, as soon as you showed signs of coming close, he halted his movements. a staggering whimper pulls its way from your strangled lungs, a subtle protest and a desperate message which pleaded for him to continue. the increasing amounts of pure need and want which corrupted your system pushed you onto the brink of insanity, and you can’t find it within yourself to formulate a coherent beg.

“awh, look at you, already desperate. it hasn’t even been ten minutes, dear…” he mumbles next to your ear, the honey-suckled tone which sported his melodic vocals was almost like witchcraft. it hexed you, bewitched your mind into nothing but a shell for his amusement.

all you wanted at this moment was for him to please you, dumb you down on his fingers until you were nothing but a puddle of mush in his hold.

as if in tune to your thoughts, the tips of his fingers slip into your cunt, the slender digits spreading you open thoroughly. he served you the meal you so feverishly craved, and you had no complaints with ravishing all you could get. your hips bucked up to meet his movements, providing a delicate amount of friction, just enough to keep you on your toes.

he was taunting you, dangling a carrot over your head which he knew you couldn’t reach right now. you turn your head to face him, a pout on your lips as an apparition of your state of mind. your eyes flit down to his lips, the plush seeming so welcoming.

“p-please…” you murmur out, unable to articulate a full sentence. all you were focusing on was how good his fingers felt. the flutter of your eyelids only coming across as an invitation for him to press his lips on, so, he does just that.

his lips slot against yours, moving in tandem to the rhythm of his fingers as they curled up into your most desirable spot like it was second nature. once he noticed you moans slur and become more frequent, his pace began to speed up, constantly slamming into the bumpy spot with unfaltering firmness.

this abrupt change in pace caused the ribbon of pleasure to tug within your gut, the silk of it being placed under so much pressure that it would undoubtedly snap in no time. all it took was his thumb to brush over your clit to make you unravel before him.

he keeps you against his chest as you squirm, thighs closing around his wrist as you let out something short of a whine. your eyes were rolling back and white blots dazzled your vision, pleasure wracking through your whole body like lightning blasts constantly striking you down.

the aftermath which ensued consisted of you falling limp against his chest, misty eyes barely focused on the way his fingers had began to gradually resume their actions like you weren’t just barely clinging onto the brink of your sanity. upon noticing this, kuronushi only laughed, his digits speeding up almost brutally as a way to punctuate his point.

“don’t try and get away from this, i’m not letting you out of my sight anymore.” he hissed into your ear, proceeding to send your mind into a tizzy with his fingers once more. one thing was for certain; you weren’t getting any sleep tonight.

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yoyomomiko · 3 days ago

Note

AAAA we seriously need more Daisuke x reader fics (|||´Д｀)

May i request something fluffy for the boy? (-ε- )

Drift to Sleep

Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader (gender isn't mentioned)

Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping properly, maybe your boyfriend will help out with that.

Warnings: a bit cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

(A/N): I'm sorry this is so short!!😔 Btw just to throw this out here I wish Jimbo didn't exist. -> m.list

You dragged your feet on the ground, rubbing the exhaustion from your eyes as best as you could. Your eyelids drooped down, threatening to shut completely over your eyes and lead you to sleep.

You can't remember the last time you've had proper sleep ever since you stepped foot on the Tulpar. You've had trouble staying awake, yet you couldn't even take a nap.

You don't understand why you can't sleep for more than two hours. Seriously, you keep waking up in the middle of the night, either by nightmares or simply because fate has other plans for you.

At least you had Daisuke.

The way his smile would click something in your brain and instantly power you on, matching his energy. He could easily brighten up your day, even when you felt dull.

"Good morning!" Daisuke beamed, immediately grinning as he saw you entered the room.

"Morning..." You muttered, forcing yourself to smile back, barely managing.

"Not 'good'?" He tilted his head to the side, noticing your tired expression.

"If it was good I would be sleeping." You mumbled in a flat tone, taking a seat next to him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, genuinely concerned at the way you were so drained out.

"It's hard to sleep... I don't know why or how, I just can't." You explained, furrowing your brows. "I'm tired, but I just can't..." You added, gazing in front of you as you zoned out.

Daisuke only gave a head nod in response, smile faltering for a bit. He didn't like seeing you in such a state, he just had to figure out how to make you feel better.

"Maybe you can get Anya to check on you." He suggested, gently wrapping an arm around your waist loosely to keep you closer to him.

"It's not worth it... I'll just waste her time." You replied, closing your eyes but to no avail. You knew you had work to do, had to force yourself to stand up and do your chores. It was just so hard...

୨୧ • ★ • ୨୧ • ★ • ୨୧

You turned in your bed from side to side, forcing your eyes closed as you tried to control your breath and count sheep, hoping that you'd fall asleep that way.

You tried every sleeping method you could think of, but none of them have worked so far. You figured out you could just give up and walk circles around your room to exhaust yourself even more.

Just then, you heard a soft click, and then a creak coming from the door. Light came in through the crack, revealing Daisuke's smiling face.

"Daisuke? What's wrong?" You asked in a hushed tone, sitting up on your elbows to look at him. You squinted your eyes due to the blinding light as Daisuke made his way into your room and shut the door silently.

"I can't sleep either." He shrugged with a big, dorky grin on his lips. He started walking towards you with light steps, just so that he's not being too loud to alert any other crew member.

"So... Why not try to fall asleep together?" He suggested, silently making his way over in your bed as it shifted under his weight.

You chuckled at him, watching as he layed down with open arms, waiting for you to throw yourself into him so he can cuddle with you.

You shook your head, pulling the blanket over the two of you as you placed your head on his chest, throwing one of your legs over him as his arm wrapped loosely around you.

His body was so warm, the embrace you two were in felt heavenly, and you certainly didn't want to pull away from it.

You felt your eyes close themselves, feeling Daisuke's chest rise up and down from his soft breathing.

You could hear the way his heartbeat was increasing, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back while you were slowly drifting to sleep under his touch.

If you knew it was this easy, you would've done this from the start.

★yoyomiko ★miko

135 notes · View notes

lucyblue101 · 2 days ago

Text

I thought I was protecting you

Satoru x reader

Warnings: This one is quite long, angsty, but has a happy ending. I hope everyone likes. This one was harder to write for some reason.

The restaurant was dimly lit, filled with warm, flickering candlelight that seemed almost ironic against the cold, gnawing feeling in Satoru’s chest. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration—two years together. But here he was, trying to summon the courage to end it.

You looked at him, eyes sparkling with love and joy, oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind. You wore that dress he loved, the one you’d saved for special occasions, and he could see you’d put in extra effort tonight. It made his heart ache, the weight of what he was jabout to do threatening to crush him.

Satoru took a deep breath, steadying himself, but even then, his hands trembled slightly. He reached across the table to hold yours, and you looked at him, surprised, with a soft smile.

But his grip was weak, and there was something off in his expression. “Y/N,” he started, his voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. “I…I’ve been doing some thinking.” He forced himself to meet your gaze, though every instinct told him to look away.

You tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds serious. Should I be worried?"

He let out a humorless chuckle, but his heart broke a little more hearing your lighthearted tone. "Maybe a little," he said softly, looking down at his hand in yours as if it would be the last time he'd feel your warmth.

Taking a shaky breath, he forced himself to continue. "I… I don’t think I can do this anymore."

You blinked, taken aback, and pulled your hand away slowly. “What… what do you mean?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

He could see the confusion in your eyes, the beginning of hurt. Satoru knew if he told you the truth, you'd fight back, refuse to let him go, and he was terrified of what that would mean for you in the future. So he took the easy way out, hiding the depth of his feelings behind a lie.

"I don’t…" He swallowed hard, each word feeling like glass in his throat. "I don’t think I love you anymore."

The words felt like a betrayal, not just to you, but to himself. But he held firm, watching as your expression crumbled, hurt and disbelief flashing across your face.

You didn’t speak. Instead, you just stood up, gaze locked on him, waiting for him to take it back, to say something, anything, that would make this feel like less of a nightmare. But he sat there, silent, fists clenched beneath the table.

Finally, you turned and walked out of the restaurant, leaving him sitting alone. Satoru felt the flood of emotions he’d been holding back burst through, tears slipping down his cheeks as he watched the empty space where you’d stood. He didn’t even wipe them away, too numb to care who saw. He’d done it. He’d ripped you out of his life to protect you, but it felt like he’d just ripped his own heart out instead.

It had been six months since that night in the restaurant. Six months of silence, and Satoru Gojo felt every second like a lead weight pressing down on him. No matter what he did to fill his time—missions, training, teaching his students—the emptiness gnawed at him, reminding him of the void he'd left by pushing you away.

At first, he’d tried to reach out, telling himself he’d just check on you, that it didn’t have to mean anything. But every message went unanswered. Every call went straight to voicemail. His Six Eyes, usually so powerful and precise, found nothing when he tried to sense you. It was as if you had vanished from his life entirely, leaving him in a cold, unfamiliar silence.

One evening, desperate to escape the hollowness, he ducked into a coffee shop, hoping a caffeine jolt might shake him back into focus. And that’s when he saw you.

There you were, sitting alone by the window with your headphones in, absorbed in whatever was on your laptop screen. You looked peaceful, even content, and he felt his breath catch, his heart pounding with equal parts longing and fear. He’d convinced himself he’d been protecting you, yet seeing you now, he wondered if he’d only been protecting himself—from the fear of losing you on his own terms.

Before he could think it through, he walked over to you and took the seat across from you. You looked up, startled, your eyes meeting his, and he saw the briefest flicker of surprise before your expression softened into polite indifference.

"Satoru," you said, acknowledging him as if he were a stranger instead of someone you’d once loved. "What… brings you here?"

His mouth went dry as he struggled to keep his composure. "Hey, Y/N. I just… wanted to see how you’ve been." His usual confidence was nowhere to be found; his voice was quieter, almost vulnerable.

You glanced back at your laptop, dismissing his concern with a small smile. “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me, Satoru. I’m not your responsibility anymore.”

The words, spoken so simply, hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d thought he was prepared for this, that he could handle your indifference if it meant you were safe. But hearing you say it—it felt like losing you all over again. He swallowed, forcing a smile that he hoped seemed natural.

"I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But… maybe we could still be friends? I know it didn’t work out, but I still… I still want you in my life, somehow.”

You looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. Finally, you nodded, exhaling a sigh that sounded more resigned than anything else. “Friends.” The word hung in the air between you both, feeling heavy with unspoken history. “Alright, Satoru. We can try.”

Relief mixed with regret as he watched you unblock his number, his phone buzzing to confirm it. He could contact you again, but he knew that ‘friends’ meant nothing like what you once shared. Still, he forced a smile, feeling grateful for this small piece of you, even if it wasn’t enough.

“Thanks,” he said, voice low. He wanted to say so much more, to explain everything, but the weight of his decision held him back. “I… I’ll let you get back to your work.”

And with that, he left the coffee shop, carrying with him the familiar ache that came from having you close but knowing he’d never really have you back.

It had been a few weeks since your unexpected reunion at the coffee shop. The two of you exchanged messages now and then, polite, almost formal—like acquaintances. It wasn’t what Satoru wanted, but he couldn’t risk losing even this fragile connection.

That’s why, when he found himself stumbling through your neighborhood late one night, hours past midnight and several drinks deep, he didn’t question his instinct to find your apartment. He could barely see straight, let alone think, but somehow his feet carried him to your doorstep. When you opened the door, eyes wide and full of surprise, he couldn’t even bring himself to care that he was showing up unannounced and completely out of character.

“Satoru? What—are you drunk?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your voice. You were used to his control, his composure. This was a version of him you’d rarely seen.

He nodded, offering a crooked, remorseful grin. “Yup,” he said, slurring slightly, “drunk and pathetic. But… but I needed to see you.”

You glanced at him, hesitation clear in your eyes. But despite everything, you opened the door wider, ushering him inside.

The two of you sat in the quiet of your small living room, the only light coming from a single lamp on the side table. He sat slumped on the couch, staring at his hands. You watched him for a long moment, waiting, unsure what he wanted.

“Satoru…” you started gently, “what’s going on?”

He looked up at you, and for a brief moment, all his defenses crumbled. His eyes were glassy, his expression raw. “I lied to you, you know,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Your brow furrowed, confusion flashing across your face. “What do you mean?”

“I told you I didn’t love you anymore.” His hand found his chest, as if trying to keep his heart from tearing itself open. “I told you… that it was over. That I was done with us.” His voice choked on the last word, and he wiped a hand across his face, frustrated at his own vulnerability. “But I never stopped loving you. Not for a second. I just… thought I was doing the right thing.”

Your chest tightened, the hurt and anger you’d kept locked away for so long rushing back all at once. “Why would you lie about something like that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why would you put me through all that pain?”

He laughed bitterly, eyes downcast. “Because I thought you’d be better off without me,” he said. “Because every day, I worry that this world will chew me up and spit me out, and I was terrified of dragging you down with me.” He looked up at you, his face etched with regret. “I thought if I pushed you away, you’d find someone who could be there for you, someone who deserves you.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. All this time, you’d thought he’d just lost interest, that he’d grown tired of you. But now… hearing him admit the truth, seeing him like this—broken, vulnerable—it was like a wound reopening, yet healing all at once.

“Do you have any idea what that did to me, Satoru?” you said, your voice shaking. “How can you stand there and say that you were protecting me? You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. I loved you, and you just… you ripped that away.”

He looked down, shoulders hunched. “I know,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was just… scared.” His words faltered, his hands reaching out to you, desperate and trembling. “Please, just sit with me. Let me… let me have this. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

You sighed, torn between wanting to yell at him and wanting to comfort him. Against your better judgment, you sat down beside him, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he buried his face against you, his breaths heavy and uneven.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his hand clutching the fabric of your shirt like he was afraid you’d disappear. And despite yourself, you placed a hand on his head, your fingers gently threading through his hair.

Eventually, his breathing slowed, and he fell asleep, his head resting on your lap. You looked down at him, your hand still stroking his hair as he lay there, looking more peaceful than you’d seen him in months. He was still Satoru Gojo—the strongest, the untouchable—but here, in this quiet, vulnerable moment, he was just a man who loved you too much to let himself admit it.

You sat there, awake in the dark, wondering if you could ever find a way to let him back in without reopening the scars he’d left on your heart.

When Satoru woke up, he blinked into the morning light, his head heavy, mind fuzzy. He sat up slowly, piecing together fragments of last night. Then he noticed the blanket draped over him and the faint scent lingering on the pillow. Your scent.

But you were gone. On the coffee table was a simple note, your handwriting clear and neat:

Had to leave for work. Didn’t want to wake you. Please take care of yourself, Satoru.

He held the note in his hand, thumb brushing over your name. You hadn’t said anything more, but the note felt like a tiny piece of kindness, something he hadn’t dared to hope for. He stayed there for a while, still clutching the note, his heart pounding as if it were trying to make sense of the night before.

By the time afternoon came around, he found himself pacing, nerves building with each passing hour. He had to see you. Apologize again. Maybe… maybe he could make things right, even if it would only be in the small ways you’d let him. He pulled himself together, grabbed a small box of your favorite candies, and headed to the office where you worked now—a completely different world from his own.

When he arrived, Satoru strode into the building with the casual confidence that came so naturally to him, but the sight of you sitting in a plain office setting—a life apart from his—caught him off guard. This wasn’t the version of you he was used to.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow when he asked where you were, looking almost stunned that someone like him, in his usual white high-neck jacket and tousled hair, was asking for you.

“She’s outside,” she said, glancing toward the entrance. “On her break, I think.”

He found you there, leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand, exhaling smoke into the crisp afternoon air. He stopped, his gaze on you. He’d never seen you smoke like this. You’d quit ages ago. His chest tightened, remembering how you’d once told him it was because you wanted to be healthier, “for us.”

You noticed him and straightened, surprise flickering across your face as you dropped the cigarette, stomping it out. “Satoru… What are you doing here?”

He swallowed hard, stepping closer with the small box of candies in his hand. “I came to apologize… for last night,” he said, voice softer than usual. He extended the box toward you, a tentative smile on his face. “I didn’t want to show up like that. Thought this might make up for it… a little.”

You looked at the box, hesitating for a moment before accepting it. “Thank you,” you murmured, glancing down.

But Satoru couldn’t help himself. His eyes drifted to where the cigarette lay crushed on the ground. “You’re smoking again,” he said, his tone a little too harsh, too familiar. “You promised you’d quit. For your health, remember?”

You sighed, crossing your arms as you looked away, and when you spoke, your voice was calm but cutting. “It’s not exactly your place to tell me what to do anymore, Toru.”

The nickname slipped out, so naturally, that it stunned him into silence. Hearing it again, after so long, filled him with a mix of longing and regret. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, realizing he had no right to dictate anything in your life anymore.

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re right. I was out of line.” His hand brushed over the back of his neck, the slightest hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I just… I care. I’m sorry if that came across wrong.”

You looked up at him, your expression softening, and he dared to take a small breath of relief. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “I know you mean well. It’s just… a little strange, that’s all. Being like this. With you.”

He chuckled lightly, trying to mask the ache in his chest. “Yeah… it’s strange for me too.” He hesitated, as if something were caught in his throat, then smiled, almost hopeful. “Listen, I know I’ve… put you through a lot. But maybe I could take you out sometime? Just as friends.” He paused, waiting to see your reaction. “Maybe it’s not the best idea, but… I’d like to try. If you’d be okay with that.”

You hesitated, looking at him, and he could see the gears turning in your mind. He held his breath, waiting.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally nodded, a small, tentative smile gracing your lips. “Okay, Satoru. As friends.”

He felt the tightness in his chest ease, a spark of warmth igniting within him. “Great. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

You gave him a brief nod, looking as though you were already second-guessing the decision. “Alright, seven.”

And with that, you gave him a small wave before turning to head back inside. He stood there, watching you go, his heart hammering with a sense of hope he hadn’t felt in months.

He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or if this fragile new connection would last. But for now, he had a chance. And for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he could make things right again.

You’d been pacing your living room for the past hour, wrestling with a mix of excitement and dread. Satoru was supposed to pick you up soon, and though you’d spent the entire day preparing for tonight, you couldn’t shake the nervous energy fluttering in your chest. Part of you wanted to cancel, tell him you couldn’t do it—not because you didn’t want to see him, but because you knew that facing him would stir up feelings you’d been desperately trying to bury.

But you couldn’t deny that, deep down, you’d missed him. And when he showed up at seven, looking as striking as ever—hair carefully parted, dressed sharply in a dark suit that fit him perfectly—you knew you were done for.

"Hey," he greeted, his usual playful smirk softened by something gentler, almost reverent, as he took in the sight of you. “You look… wow. Beautiful.”

The car ride was quiet at first, each of you too aware of the tension. But gradually, the silence gave way to soft, shared laughter, memories bubbling to the surface, like tiny reminders of a past life you’d both once cherished. By the time you reached the restaurant, it almost felt natural—like old times.

But as soon as you sat down, the memories hit. The last time you’d been in a restaurant together was that night—the night he broke your heart. You glanced around, the déjà vu heavy, the way the candlelight flickered across his face, reminding you of that painful anniversary dinner. And the words he’d spoken, the ones that tore through you like a thousand tiny shards, came rushing back.

As if sensing your unease, Satoru looked up from his menu, his expression softening. “Are you okay?”

The question broke the dam. “You know… the last time we were in a restaurant together, you told me you didn’t love me,” you murmured, voice trembling as the rawness of the memory came flooding back. You watched his face fall, guilt shadowing his gaze.

He set down his menu, hands folded tightly together. “I… I never meant for it to happen like that.”

Your eyes burned, but you held his gaze, voice steady. “Then why did you do it, Satoru? Why did you tell me you didn’t love me anymore?”

He opened his mouth, words faltering, his usual confidence gone. “Because I thought… I thought it was the only way to protect you. I’m dangerous, Y/N. Everyone around me eventually suffers. I thought… if I could just let you go, you could live a normal life. I didn’t want you to be tied to a life that would only hurt you.”

You shook your head, laughing bitterly. “You don’t get to make that choice for me, Satoru. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me and then lie about it. You broke me.”

His voice broke, and he reached across the table, his hand hovering near yours, as if afraid to make contact. “I’m sorry. I know it’s too little, too late. I was a coward. I was afraid of losing you, but I thought it was better than dragging you into my world.”

The pain in his eyes was clear, but it did nothing to ease the ache in your chest. “Do you know what it’s like to spend two years with someone, to think they’re your future, only for them to suddenly throw you away?” Your voice cracked, your fingers clenching into fists on your lap. “You didn’t just break my heart, Satoru. You shattered every single hope I had for us.”

He looked away, his jaw tight, and for a moment, the powerful, confident man seemed small, vulnerable, devastated. “I thought… I thought you’d be better off.”

“And were you?” you challenged, your voice low but cutting. “Are you better off without me?”

He looked at you, and his eyes were like open wounds, brimming with emotions he could no longer hide. “No,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I thought I’d be protecting you, but all I did was ruin the one good thing in my life.”

The weight of his words hung between you, suffocating, until you couldn’t bear it any longer. The walls of the restaurant felt too close, too confining. You stood abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor as you turned and walked out, not bothering to look back. The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, and a light drizzle had started, blurring the lights of the city into a hazy glow.

Before you knew it, Satoru was there, running after you. “Wait—Y/N, please,” he called out, his voice raw, desperate.

You kept walking, the rain mingling with the tears on your face, but he caught up to you, his hand reaching for your arm, pulling you to a stop. “Don’t… don’t walk away. Please, not again.”

You turned, facing him, your emotions swirling like the storm building around you. “What do you want from me, Satoru? You ended it. You made that choice.”

He reached out, gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I want… I want you. I don’t care if it’s selfish, or if it’s stupid. I’ll be damned if I let you go again. I was wrong, Y/N. I was so, so wrong.”

Your heart pounded as he looked at you, his eyes holding a desperation that you’d never seen before. His fingers trembled against your skin as if he were afraid you’d disappear. He pulled you closer, his breath mingling with yours, and in a voice barely above a whisper, he confessed, “I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

And before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent, as if he were pouring every unspoken word, every buried feeling into that moment. The rain poured around you, soaking through your clothes, but neither of you noticed. All you could feel was him, his warmth, his need, his love—all the things he’d hidden away, now laid bare in the rain.

You pulled back, breathless, searching his face, and the vulnerability in his gaze made your heart twist. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Satoru,” you whispered, even as your hand reached up to brush the wet strands of hair from his face.

“I’ll wait,” he replied, his voice barely a murmur, filled with a quiet determination. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. Just… don’t leave me again. Please.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you, and when you looked at him again, you could see the flicker of hope in his gaze, like he was clinging to a lifeline he was terrified of losing.

“Alright,” you whispered, your voice shaking as you pulled him close, your arms wrapping around him. “Alright, Satoru.”

And in that moment, under the rain-soaked sky, the two of you stood together, tangled in each other’s arms, no longer running, no longer hiding. The pain, the regret, the love—it was all there, unspoken but understood, and for the first time in months, you felt as though you could finally breathe again.

Tag list (let me know if you wanna go on it)

@moonchhu

@haruhatake

@hargun-s

@itsafairytalekay

@canigotosleep--plz

@mistymuii

#satoru gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk fluff #gojo headcanons #gojo angst #jujitsu kaisen x reader #satoru headcanons #satoru angst #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #satoru x you

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aurynsia · 2 days ago

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Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 3

James Potter x Reader

Summary: A boy in your class haunts your search for your secret admirer, uncovering some feelings you thought you lost years before…

Warnings: Some very subtle sexual implications, secret admirer trope, extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, James is a virgin, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, oblivious!reader, Remus being the most supportive and helpful friend James has ever had, reader is a bit of a nerd, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.5K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Potions concluded with the setting sun. You adjusted in your seat to reach your bag, dropping supplies into its dark void. You had managed to phase the unusual situation you were in to the back of your mind, forgetting your secret admirer as you completed the class work. This was, however, short lived.

You turned back to your desk and spotted a folded note on its surface, the paper identical to the one you received the night before. You attempted to conceal your growing curiosity and excitement as you swiftly snatched it and launched yourself out of your chair, bag in hand.

Turning to leave the room, you thought of your friends’ ecstatic faces at the discovery of a new note, before-

Bump.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” You turned your frame to face the source of disruption, air pushed from your lungs for just a second. There stood a tentative James Potter, a splattering of rose appearing on his cheeks at your eye contact. “Um, I- I’m sorry!” He rambled, rushing away before you could even consider the interaction.

Your stomach quietly dipped and flipped at the contact, creating an unfamiliar warmth which you quickly forced down as you shook your head with a small smile. James Potter, ladies man, smooth talker and prank puller couldn’t even form a coherent sentence around you. Strange. Though, at least he apologised this time.

You exited the classroom, remembering the note you held in your hand, and practically skipped towards the Gryffindor common room with bubbling enthusiasm.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“And then I just froze! I can’t help it, her eyes are so captivating and she smells really good and the way she clutched the note so protectively made my heart flutter!” James finished his rambling, looking around his dorm in disbelief as his friends snickered affectionately.

“Good Merlin, Prongs! Every attractive bird you bump into like that at post-match parties would be subject to a dousing of charm, flirtations, and charisma by now…” Sirius quipped with a smirk, amused by the boy’s rare, flustered look hiding behind his hands.

“I mean, of course she’s a pretty one, Prongs, but what’s stopping you from wooing her like all the rest?” Silence fell on the group as James considered Sirius’ words. “Well, I don’t know, Prongs, maybe it’s because- well, you know, you’ve been…saving yourself…for h-“ Peter attempted, choosing not to finish his sentence after the entourage of warning glares met his eyes.

“James, Peter might have a point…for once…” Remus spoke after some consideration. “You obviously view her differently to all the other girls you’ve spoken to, and I know the reason you hesitate with all the rest is because you wish they were her…” Remus glanced at the raven-haired boy sitting on his bed as he said those last words, who was unaware as he moved to console James.

The young Potter was arched over, with his elbows on his knees and his face in the palms of his hands. His bed dipped under the weight of Sirius taking a seat beside him.

“Prongs, let me put it bluntly,” Sirius began, “you’ll have to either man up, chat her up and finally get the girl you deserve, or move on and bloody kiss someone else already. It’s no use pining over her if she doesn’t even know you’re pining! Now what did that second note say?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“‘You look so pretty today, I really like how you did your hair! And thank you for all your explanations in the class discussion, it really helped me stay on top of my grades with a beautiful thing like you sitting near me.’ He drew a little winking face next to that, ‘Forever yours.” Charlie and Hope burst into a fit of giggles after you recited the most recent note.

“He’s obsessed with you! This is so cute!” Charlie squealed, holding your shoulders and shaking you slightly for emphasis. “You know what this means, right? He must be in your potions class!” Hope stated with a smirk, leaning across from her seat on the floor to pick up your list of potential suitors.

“Let’s see, that leaves us with about…five options!” She exclaimed. Your bewildered expression contrasted her excitement, crawling over to her position on the dorm room floor. One, two, three, four…five. You counted the Gryffindor boys in your potions class as your eyes widened.

One name stuck out to you in particular: James Potter. As if sharing the same thought, Charlie brightened as she spotted the same name on the paper. “Potter is in that class! Oh my, my…you are quite the catch aren’t you, love?” She teased, inching closer to your warming face. “Ooh! You’re blushing! Are you sure you really got over him all those years ago, hmm?” Hope joined Charlie in closing the distance between all three of you as your cheeks gave you away.

“Of course I’m over him! That was in fourth year…well, maybe…ugh, it doesn’t matter! It’s probably not him anyway, I mean, I can’t imagine him finding the time to do any of this with his adoring fan club constantly surrounding him…” you muttered.

“But it could really be him! I mean, you were saying he gets all nervous and awkward around you, there’s a chance that could mean-“ You stopped Charlie’s rabbit hole of conspiracy, choosing not to dwell on the matter longer.

“There are four others on this list, it’s best if we cover all our bases.” Hope reasoned, joining you in rationality and convincing Charlie to do the same. “Let’s keep an eye out for any of these distinguished gentlemen paying extra attention to our darling friend.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The quiet night caused the atmosphere of the Gryffindor house to soften under the soft glow of the crescent moon. Remus couldn’t sleep. It was almost too peaceful, and he didn’t like it.

Sitting up in his bed, he glanced over the figures of his friends, their chests softly rising with each breath they took. Slinking into the cloak of darkness by the door, he slowly opened the door and forged a path to the common room.

There, sat under the light of a lamp, was a flowing cascade of your hair over the back of the couch. You were hunched over paper, concentrating on your History of Magic homework.

“Hey, can I join you?” Remus attempted not to startle you as he rounded the corner, joining you on the coach after you noticed his presence and nodded in confirmation.

Remus was always the more mature member of the Marauders, more focused on his studies than pranking innocent students.

“So, listen,” He began after a beat, “You’re working on History of Magic, right? I’ve noticed you’re really excelling in that class and, not to brag, but I’m quite good at it too.” You met his gaze. “I know, I’ve seen your writing. You clearly work hard.” You replied, instilling that Gryffindor courage in every word that would have normally been absent during interactions such as this, often causing you to dismiss the compliment with a shy smile.

Remus allowed himself a small grin at your unfamiliar nonchalance, continuing his proposition. “Oh, thank you! Well, I was wondering if you wanted to team up. I could be your study partner, and we could top the class together! I’ll teach you anything you’re not sure about, and I’d ask for the same in return.” You turned his proposal over in your mind, causing a small moment of silence between you two.

“There are some years I’m not so familiar with, and I certainly could do with the clarification. So sure, Remus, I’ll be your study partner!” You smiled warmly, comfortable in the newfound knowledge that the boy wasn’t a possible face behind your recently received love confessions. You found his proposition to be a friendly gesture, and far more genuine than any action you’d expect from a Marauder.

“Great!” He cheered, “We can start tomorrow. I often sit with my friends in the library, if you’re willing to join…” Remus trailed off, hoping you’d sit with his lovestruck friend for a few hours in the name of good grades.

“I’ll be there, Remus, thank you for the offer.” The words escaped your mouth before you had a chance to consider them, but Remus was already delighted by your acceptance. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, love, goodnight.”

He flashed a soft smile your way as he stood to return to his bed, leaving you bathing in the light of the lamp with an optimistic fluttering in your stomach.

You decided to leave it be, along with the hope that the boy with the rounded glasses would be there to get all flustered over you again, nagging that sweet, romantic side of your brain.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: Woohoo, here we go! I hope you’re all excited for some tooth aching fluff in the next chapter because it looks like reader is warming up to the Marauders >.< Thank you so much for reading this series, and be sure to like and reblog! Comment to be added to the tag list so you don’t miss chapter 4!

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daisymbin · 2 days ago

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a little push - joshua hong

warnings: none except a tipsy joshua

pairings: joshua hong x reader

genre: drunken confession, friends to ???

wc: 1.3k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

the house party was buzzing with energy, laughter echoing in every corner. colorful lights flickered in sync with the music, casting a warm glow over the crowd. you weaved through groups of friends, feeling the infectious excitement in the air. but as you glanced around, your gaze landed on joshua, who was slumped in a quieter area, looking troubled. his usually bright demeanor was overshadowed by a cloud of concern as he stared into his drink.

something in your chest tightened at the sight of him like that. you had known joshua long enough to recognize when he was putting on a brave face. with a sense of determination, you made your way over, weaving through the dancing bodies until you reached him.

“hey buddy, what’s wrong?” you asked, kneeling beside him, hoping to break through whatever was weighing him down.

he squinted up at you, his expression a mix of confusion and sadness. “oh, hey… um. i’m not sure we’ve met,” he said, his voice slightly slurred.

“it’s okay,” you replied, forcing a smile despite the sudden pit in your stomach, you found him adorable, so you played along. “i just saw you looking a bit down and wanted to check in.”

“thanks, but it’s just… complicated.” he sighed, rubbing his forehead as if trying to erase the thoughts swirling in his mind. “don't tell anyone but i think…no im sure.. im sure i’m in love with my best friend, and it’s driving me crazy i dont know what to do.”

your heart raced at his confession, but you kept your expression neutral. you had always known he had strong feelings for someone, the boys always joked about it in front of you but even as his best friend, joshua was tight lipped, never telling you who it was, but hearing it out loud now especially from him hit differently. “really? that sounds tough. what’s stopping you from telling her?”

he leaned back, his hesitation palpable. “i don’t know. it’s risky. what if it ruins our friendship? what if she doesn’t feel the same? or worse, what if she’s in love with someone else?” he looked away, clearly grappling with the weight of his emotions.

you shifted a bit closer, sensing the turmoil within him. “those are valid concerns,” you said gently. “but keeping it to yourself can be just as risky. you might be missing out on something amazing.”

he let out a soft chuckle, tinged with bitterness. “yeah, maybe. but it’s easier to stay quiet than to take the chance and get hurt.”

“true,” you acknowledged. “but if you really care about her, wouldn’t you rather know the truth? it could be worth it.”

joshua looked at you, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “i just wish i knew how she felt. it would make things so much easier.”

“maybe you could start by showing her how much she means to you,” you suggested, your heart racing as you spoke. “small gestures, spending more time together. see how she reacts. you seem like a great guy, im sure she feels the same about you.”

he nodded slowly, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “that makes sense. but still, what if she doesn’t reciprocate? what if it ruins everything?”

you took a moment to think, searching for the right words. “if she doesn’t, at least you’ll know where you stand,” you encouraged softly. “but you won’t know unless you take that step. living in uncertainty can be harder than facing the truth, no matter what it is.”

joshua sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. “i guess you’re right. it’s better than just sitting around, worrying.”

there was a moment of silence between you, and you could see him weighing his options, his mind racing with possibilities. you could tell he was still hesitant, reluctant to fully open up to a stranger, even one who was clearly trying to help.

“you’re really insightful for someone i just met,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. “it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t directly involved.”

“i’m glad,” you said, feeling a little bittersweet knowing he still didn’t recognize you as his best friend. “just be brave. you’ve got this.”

he hesitated again, his expression contemplative. “it’s just… hard. what if i make everything awkward?”

“awkward moments can be part of growth,” you replied gently. “but they’re better than never trying at all.”

he took a deep breath, the weight of your conversation pressing on him. “you’re really pushing me to think about this, huh?”

“that’s the idea,” you said with a light laugh. “sometimes you need a little push to see things clearly.”

he looked at you, and for a brief moment, you felt the weight of the unspoken connection between you. but then he shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. “i should probably go. i need to sort through this.”

“of course,” you said, giving him a gentle nod. “whatever you decide, just make sure it’s what you truly want.”

as he stood up, ready to leave, he paused, looking back at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “you really are a great friend, you know that?”

“thanks, joshua. i’m just here to help,” you replied, a bittersweet smile on your face.

he nodded, the gratitude in his eyes apparent. “i appreciate it. really. i’ll… i’ll think about what you said.”

as he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling of longing in your chest. the party continued to pulse around you, but all you could think about was the possibilities ahead. would he take your advice? would he confess his feelings? you hoped he would, and that he would realize it was you he was meant to be with.

after a while, you found a spot on the couch, allowing yourself to relax a bit, but your mind was still racing. moments later, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you pulled it out to see a message from joshua. your heart skipped a beat as you opened it.

joshuji 🐰:

[02:47 AM] hey bunny, can we talk? well maybe tomorrow over lunch? I'm kinda hammered right now. but I've kinda been thinking about us a lot lately..I just…have something i need to get off my chest..

your breath caught in your throat as you read the message. you felt a wave of disbelief mixed with overwhelming happiness after all that hesitation in person.

of course, lunch at our favourite place?

you hit send, your heart pounding in your chest. moments felt like hours as you waited for his reply even as you were glancing over to him across the room. finally, your phone buzzed again.

joshuji 🐰:

[02:53 AM] yeah that would be nice. also, i really miss you. if its not too late, could you come pick me up?

you smiled as you read his message, the tension that had been building inside of you for so long finally releasing.

“hey handsome,” you said as you walked up to him, “you ready to go?” you don't think you've smiled this big in such a long time. “y/n! I missed you.” he said happily as he pulled you in closer for a hug, not caring that he was still sitting and you were standing. his head rested comfortably just below your chest as your hands come up, one against his cheek and the other patting his head gently as you played with his hair.

“you all good?” you asked yet again, “never been better. it feels so nice being so close to you. you're so warm.” he answers as he holds you impossible tighter. “come on, let's get you home, hm?”

“just 5 more minutes. let's just stay like this for 5 more minutes. I'm too comfortable. & I like having you close to me like this.” you wonder if this is him letting his feelings slip but you dont question it. despite the room full of people, you don't seem to notice anyone else & neither does he. “me too joshua, I like having you close to me like this.”

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagine #svt fluff #svt #svt x reader #svt angst #fanfic #seventeen x reader #joshua x reader #joshua seventeen #seventeen joshua #seventeen joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #joshua hong fluff #joshua hong angst #joshua angst #joshua fluff

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sebstanaddict · 3 days ago

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Between Deadlines

CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader Story

A/n: And he did it again. A simple photoshoot inspired me to write another one shot 🤭 I've been wanting to write CEO!Bucky for a while now, and his LA Magazine shoot finally did it for me. There's something about that sleek black suit and unbuttoned shirt that is so inspiring 😁 Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this enemies to lovers story. Please vote and comment. It would mean the world to me. Thank you.

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes is the CEO of Barnes Tech Solutions and reader is his CTO. When an ultimatum from a client forces them to work together overnight, what started off as competition and hate starts to turn into something else..

Pairings : CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: none, just a little fluff, let me know if you find anything

Word count : 2k words