#the written part took way longer than I expected it to

[lightwithinthedarknessu]

Destined ※ Star Speckled Sunset  

A SoKai Fic written for @twosidesfanzine

I had a deliciously sweet time writing for @twosidesfanzine and was paired with the wonderful @wiavi who created the most beautiful spot art for the story! Leftover sales are still open so head on over here to pick up your very own sokai and rokunami cookbook!

Thank you so much for having me!

Summary: As the first step on their next journey, Sora and Kairi return to the Islands to fulfill a long-held tradition. Along the way they meet a few friends and reaffirm just how sweet it is to cook together side by side. Set post-KH3, featuring familar friends from the Islands, seafaring folklore, reaffirmed oaths, new outfits, and descriptions of delicious sweets.

Full fic under read more and on AO3

Kairi took a deep breath, savoring the soft breeze as she stepped onto the island shore. Their round-trip visit to Master Yen Sid’s was longer than expected, earning a stretch and a yawn from Sora as he exited the Gummi Ship. His dark red hoodie peeked out from underneath his dark grey and black cotton jacket. Paired with his lax and loose cargo pants, Sora looked like he had finally grown into his clothes. Kairi jogged up behind him, dressed from head to toe in a long light pink overcoat. Her pink plaid flare dress swayed as she linked arms with Sora, beaming at the realization they’d made it back, safe and sound.

Sora and Kairi were done for now with fighting Heartless, Nobodies, and denizens of darkness. Their long-held promise of traveling the worlds was a reality. When deciding where they would begin their journey, the islands were an obvious choice. A world filled with greetings and partings. It only seemed fitting that they meet with their friends before going off on a long journey.

Kairi was practically giddy at first. But now, seeing their little island off in the distance, her eyes began to sting. The image of Sora fading away shimmered in her mind’s eye. Her racing heart faltered at the memory as she clung to him a bit tighter.

“It feels just like yesterday, that we were here,” she said, taking another breath to steady herself.

Sora tilted his head, not sure what brought on her sudden change. But a grin soon spread across his face as he put an arm around her waist to pull her closer. “Hmm, just tells you that nothing really changes! I’m glad, it’s nice to be back. I can’t wait to see everyone!”

Kairi reddened at their sudden closeness before easing into his rhythm. Sora was right, the Islands never changed, not really. Even if they had, it was a comfort to return to a place so closely tied to their hearts. “Yeah, and this time we aren’t saying goodbye, not really. It’s more like we’re setting off again and it’s an exciting journey. I can’t wait to see what other worlds we’ll find!” Kairi giggled as she broke free from his embrace and ran ahead of him. The tall hill before them extended off past the horizon.

Sora put his hands on his hips and drank in the scene of his hometown. There were a few new rooftops and terraces sprinkled about, but all in all, it was the same sleepy little beachside town he loved. “Yeah! I wanna see all that’s out there. But I’m glad to be back home for a bit, one last time before we set off on our own adventure. No Heartless, no Nobodies, just the two of us.” Sora beamed at her. It was a smile as bright as the sun on a clear summer’s day. Kairi felt all her past worries fade into the shadows cast by his light.

“Hmm, there may be some Heartless around. But I know you and I can take 'em!” Kairi pumped a fist as Sora fell into light laughter beside her.

“I know,” he said, gripping her hand a bit tighter. “So, where should we stop by first?”

Kairi traced the outline of a small square of double-folded paper in her jacket pocket. There was a place she wanted to go, and something she wanted to do—fulfill a dream she’d had for a long time. “Do you remember—when your mother first invited me over for your father’s Voyager Dinner?”

“Yeah, of course!” Sora grinned.

“Your mom…she told me the legend behind it, back then you know,” Kairi began.

***

It was both long ago, and yet just yesterday that a treasured memory took root in Kairi’s heart one sunset-kissed evening. It all began after a full day at the beach looking for sea glass with Sora. The two had taken their little haul and rushed to O’aka’s Odds and Ends, fully expecting to stuff their cheeks with candy before dinner. O’aka would usually buy the little bobbles from the kids in exchange for a bottle of Ramune or sweets. But not this evening. Instead, the two ran into Sora’s mother, who was out shopping for a “Voyager’s Dinner.”

“What’s a Voyager’s Dinner?”

“A seafarer’s wish of good luck,” Sora’s mother explained. 

Sora soon stepped in with his own excitement and described how delicious the dessert was—asserting that Kairi had to have dinner with them and try it.

Wide-eyed and filled with curiosity, Kairi stood next to Sora’s mother in the kitchen that night, her tiny hands gripping the counter as she diverted all her attention to the woman’s careful movements. A gentle folding of dough and a scattering of cubes of butter left the little girl salivating. As Sora’s mother began to smooth the dough, Kairi dared to ask what it was she was making. What made it so special? Slowly, the woman’s voice filled with the crackle of the warmth of a fire and weaved a tale.

“Long ago, the seas were rougher and the night sky darker than it is now. Only a few stars twinkled in the sky and could guide seafarers to their destination. The mainland itself was larger, much larger than it is now, and connected to so many other villages. And the sea, well, it was so large that you could travel hours by boat and only barely see the shore of another island. Our people, spurred on by the tales of passing travelers, took up their masts and set out to sea to find new lands, aware of the dangers and all they could lose.

Still, despite the pleas of their families , many decided they must set off for broader horizons. And so, the mothers, fathers, lovers, and friends banded together to wish their passionate travelers well. One proposed that they use the mystical properties of the paopu to ensure their loved ones would return. Another felt they should make a dish that could give them the warmth of home for one last time. And so, they put their heads together and created something that could give both. A crust so thin and crumbly, filled with the richest butter to sate their appetites. A smooth crème to cut the fat, and lastly topped with the tart soul-connecting fruit.

They say that even after the world changed and the stars in the sky grew in number, eating this tart brought their loved ones home even years later. And so we continue to make it as a send-off, a way to wish them a safe voyage home and remind them of the connection we share. We don’t use the paopu much anymore…but I like to sneak it in. Don’t tell anyone else, ok?” 

***

Back then Kairi had giggled and found herself dreaming of what it would be like to create her own tart for someone she loved. And now was the perfect time to make that dream a reality. She licked her lips as she fumbled with the small slip of paper in her hand.

“I had forgotten about it—the recipe I mean. Until I remembered your name again. Somehow, I knew I’d see you again soon so—I asked your mom for it.” Kairi gingerly handed Sora the recipe and placed her hand over his. “I couldn’t find the right time to make it till now but…this time...”

Sora’s eyes were focused on her the whole time, searching her expression for the truth behind her eyes. He knew what she wanted to say and it made his heart flutter. “Let’s make it together since we’re leaving again. We can go say hi to everyone while we shop for ingredients!”

Kairi beamed. He always seemed to notice what she wanted to do even before she said the words. Hand in hand the two headed off to find all they needed.

***

Word got out fast around Destiny Islands. For a seafaring village, gossip and new arrivals were always the talk of the town, so Sora and Kairi’s return didn’t go unnoticed. Reunions abounded with familiar faces, some tearful and others filled with laughter as the two visited store after store hunting for ingredients. The pair even stopped by O’aka’s and ran into a bubbly Selphie who got in a few teasing comments. 

“Here for some special ‘announcement’ to your parents before going off again?”

Kairi and Sora bashfully took a glance at one another—they had never told anyone how committed they were, yet Selphie already knew at a glance. Now wasn’t the time, but maybe someday they’d share everything with their families and friends. 

As Kairi and Sora gathered their ingredients, a familiar pair of friends entered the shack with the loudest and cheeriest of greetings. Tidus and Wakka, although a bit taller, had hardly changed at all. Kairi admired how easily the two conversed with Sora as if no time had passed since he’d last been home. It was heartening to see how much of an impact he still had on their hearts. With a brisk goodbye and promise of a reunion, the two bid farewell to their friends. 

Before leaving, Selphie slipped a grateful Kairi a bag of fruits. Inside shined a ripened paopu fruit. With a wink and a smile, a girl starving for the future juicy details wished her traveling friend good luck.  

****

Kairi was reminded of Sora’s cooking skills immediately upon entering his mother’s kitchen. Although it had been years, the boy knew where everything was kept and didn’t miss a beat gathering the pots and pans they needed.

Joy filled his features as the two poured over his mother’s detailed recipe. Kairi could tell he was excited to use what he had learned from Remy on a dish all his own. Teasingly, she suggested that he should teach her a few skills along the way. 

Sora got into the idea more than she expected and took on his own little chef role to guide her through the process. With every chop, sift, and stir, the klutzy boy from her memories was replaced by the image of a true chef.

The crack of a perfect egg by two and a whisk of sugar. The gentle click of a gaslit stove and a warm simmer of coconut milk slowly helped the pair gain a rhythm as they baked. 

While the pastry crème chilled, the two made the puff pastry. Along the way, Kairi tossed a pinch of flour at Sora in a sudden fit of mischief, earning a teasing grin and a dash of flour to her own face. His laughter filled the air. It reminded Kairi of the wholeness she had felt back then cooking alongside Sora’s family in a home filled with laughter and love. 

After the chopping of fruit and a couple of hours of reminiscing, the tart was complete. Or so Sora thought. Kairi insisted on adding one more special fruit. With an impish grin, she pulled out her secret ingredient, much to Sora’s heartfelt surprise.

Together, the two dotted the top of the tart with thin slices of paopu fruit. 

***

Kairi and Sora arrived at the Play Island with a wicker picnic basket dangling between them. Gingerly, Sora hoisted Kairi up onto the paopu tree before taking his place beside her. The setting sun before them was a welcome sight—a perfect end to their last day on the islands. Tucked inside the basket was the tart, glistening like the evening sunset. Sora cut a slice for the two of them. He held up a slice to Kairi with a boyish grin, taunting her to take a bite. 

An ache that had long persisted inside her heart faded away at the gesture. For over a year she couldn’t bring herself to visit the island—not until she brought Sora home. It was a fleeting dream come true to be here, with him, full and whole. Beaming, she held up her own slice—the two completing the ritual once more. 

The taste of their shared tart was sweet and refreshing, the tang of the fruit juice filling their taste buds with the nostalgia of home and the sunset’s burst of light. Gone was the bittersweet memory of their last parting at the base of the paopu tree, replaced with the promise of a new beginning.

“You know, back at that Voyager’s Dinner—I was so happy you were there, Kairi. It felt like a piece I was missing had finally fallen into place,” Sora said, red kissing the tips of his ears.

Kairi leaned in and gave Sora a playful kiss. “Me too. I felt at home. You were all so welcoming, and it was like a part of me that was missing became whole. My home is with you Sora, now and forever.”

Sora interlaced their hands and smiled. “No matter where we go, or how far, our connection will bring us back—

“Safe and sound.” Kairi finished. A promise and a childhood wish were fulfilled against the fading horizon, a tried and true guarantee for a safe voyage. 

Notes:

Written for Two Sides Zine Volume 2: A SoKai and RokuNami Cookbook! I'm so thankful to have had the chance to write for sokai, a dream come true project and I had the most amazing time working on it!

Thank you to Wiavi for bringing the story to life with her gorgeous spot art. It was amazing to work together and I just adore how you protrayed the scenes! Kairi's conflicting emotions come through so brilliantly and their little chibi forms cooking make my heart warm every time I see them!

And thank you to Phoenix and Liv for editing the story. Your feedback and lovely comments during the whole process really made this zine piece a love letter to SoKai and I grew so much as a writer because of it! It was so wonderful and a blast to work alongside everyone! I had so much fun and truly loved every minute.

Thank you to @true-intha-blu for the absolutely delicious tart recipe that inspired the same tart in the story! Your feedback and direction for the recipe made every mouth-watering detail come to life in words, I'm so happy we got to work together! If you haven't, definitely pick up a copy of the zine to enjoy the delicious recipes <3 Thank you all so much!

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[marlair]

Hello hello! Can you write twisted wonderland perfect + lilia if that's not to much– with gn reader similar to frieren?? (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

i’ll choose a life where my hand never leaves yours

syn. wise old elf, basically.

gn!yuu + frieren!yuu , no use of y/n, you’re referred to as yuu.

book 7 spoilers . not proofread

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

as someone who works hard to make sure his magic meets expectations and above, seeing you flawlessly just do and perform spells perfectly makes you someone he’s willing to admire.

(though your somewhat lazy nature confuses him a tad.)

he is someone who rushes things, especially before his overblot.

when the parties need to be perfect, when your students need to be exemplary, and when you need to be a perfect example, it’s hard not to rush things.

you, being a long-lived elf, having lived longer than even diasomnia’s vice housewarden, know very well that taking it slow helps. a lot.

“Riddle,” you start, reaching down and resting your hand on his shoulder. The tension rushing through the redheads body lessens when your hand finds its way to him, and he- subtly but clear to your eyes, leans into your touch and slightly melts into his chair.

Riddle turns his head and looks down to meet your eyes, putting his hand on yours on his shoulder, tugging it down gently and intertwining your fingers. “Mh?” He hummed, a bit too preoccupied with all the papers on his table.

He had the Heartslabyul students’ grade reports, the plans for the unbirthday party coming up, letters from his mother, letters from che’nya, a half-written request to the headmaster for funding for further unbirthday parties, and—

“Take it easy,” you say, rubbing small circles onto the back of his hand, and the thoughts about all the work he had to do, even if only for a moment, rushed out of his mind with a sigh.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

you probably remind him of malleus- it doesn’t mean he hates you, he just.. feels some mild dislike for you sometimes.

in what situation would you two even encounter each other?

probably in the botanical garden, actually.

or somewhere outside, which is most likely where he is, considering he isn’t in classes.. at all, basically.

he’d appreciate how slow you take life in.

it’s calming, he doesn’t know how or why.

it just feels nice to be around you, he guesses.

“Ugh!” Leona groans, immediately sitting up from his laying position on the ground of the botanical garden. 

Who the *🐭* stepped on his tail?

By pure instinct, he took a sniff of the air, and—

It wasn’t a smell he recognized. Some parts of it were familiar to him, but he didn’t recognize even the species of this audacious person.

… What the *🐭*

He looked up to see someone who didn’t look a day above 14 or so, but also happened to have a trait common with fae folk- pointed ears.

So, it’s some fae who decided to step on his tail and not look where they were going, huh?

He’d deal with this promptly.

(After getting terribly humbled by your magical prowess, he’s decided that no, he did not deal with it promptly.)

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

best believe he is desperate for your magic.

he sees you use a spell that only Lilia Vanrouge himself can vaguely recognize, and he realizes your knowledge is something he needs.

you can never know too much, isn’t that true?

(you’d like to disagree.)

a subtle sharing of your wisdom teaches him that there is much he doesn’t know, but also much he’d better not know.

just like riddle, azul struggles with pacing his, well, life.

tell him to take it easy. there’s no rush, especially considering you both have higher lifespans than regular humans.

what do jade and floyd think about you?

…

it’s for the better that you don’t know.

KALIM AL-ASIM

now that i’m writing this, i realize that a lot of the housewardens can’t give theirself a break.

is kalim one of those housewardens?

.. i guess we’ll never know.

it’s not that he’s stressing himself out, he’s just a bit.. energetic.

again, again, you calm him down.

slowly, slightly. but as time passes, the change becomes obvious.

in more ways than one.

“.. Oh my Sevens?” Jamil lets out with a gasp, looking at..

Looking at the Kalim Al-Asim… sweeping the floor. After a party. Half of the room was clean. And Jamil hadn’t even gotten his broom out.

Is this what Cater meant when he said he ‘experienced culture shock’?. Because, oh, boy, Jamil is shocked.

“Kalim-” He didn’t even get to finish the sentence he wanted to say. ‘Kalim, who told you to do this?’. Yeah, Jamil would sometimes daydream about Kalim doing all the work, but it’s not like he actually expected Kalim to do work.

Kalim, grinning as if he didn’t just rock Jamil’s world, said, “Yuu told me that hard work after relaxation and vice versa is the best! I’m doing hard work! It’s fun!”

Fun? Jamil incredulously thinks before getting his wrist grabbed by Kalim.

Did Kalim only think it was fun because he hadn’t done it before? Yes. Is it fun? To Kalim! And that’s enough!

VIL SCHOENHEIT

imagine being able to look so incredibly young when you’re much older than even Leona, the oldest student disregarding the fae, hah.

haha.

is vil jealous?

…

yeah.

forever youth, and even heightened magical prowess. vil thought he’d gotten used to it with the fae, but finding out there was yet another species similar?

it kind of lowkey makes his blood boil. why isn’t it him that gets to be born like that?

anyways. vil’s someone who, finally, knows how to pace himself.

so, you can finally show another side of yourself.

the lazy side of you.

okay, lazy is a strong word.

It was a well known fact to all that Vil Schoenheit had a good morning routine. The first step was to wake up early.

He usually woke up at around 5:00, 5:25 if he was feeling a bit tired. Maybe even 5:30 if he was feeling bold.

Today, he woke up at 6:00. 

Six in the morning. Much later than usual. The only question he has right now is how? His body clock had already been adjusted to waking up at 5:00, it’d been like that for a long time.

He, sitting up on his bed, looks beside him to see the small frame of another person, still asleep and long hair askew.

Oh, he thinks briefly, that’s why.

IDIA SHROUD

genuinely, i’m so sorry.

he has knowledge of elves, which surprised you greatly. and when you asked where he found out..

what is an ‘ahn-eh-mei’ supposed to be? why did shroud like it so much? and how is it, aside from old scriptures created by fae that may no longer even be alive, have some of the only mentions of elves you’ve seen at all in this world?

you knew the elf race was dwindling and may even go extinct, but darn.

when you asked him to show you what those cute little cartoons showed elves as..

for some reason, his face- and hair!- went pink.

.. huh. weird.

i mean, it can’t be that bad. right?

‘Oh my,’ you think internally, ‘it is that bad.’. Idia, hair and face pink, holds his phone and points the screen in your direction. On it’s screen displays a.. big.. breasted, blonde haired, in- in such scandalous clothing.. a woman like that.

And she had pointed ears, just like yours. A bit smaller than yours, though.

Is this really what people in this realm think of elves? It’s.. Well, you can’t speak for all elves, you barely even know if more elves exist even in your own realm, but.. uh.

What you saw on the screen was a.. really interesting interpretation!

You don’t even know any person this… lustful, in your own realm. And you especially don’t know any elves like that. It’s.. Odd.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

he is shocked. his world is shaken, he’s trembling in his boots, even.

someone older than even lilia.. really? truly? 

the moment he makes it onto ramshackle the first time you’d arrived, he’d sensed a familiar presence.

familiar not in the sense that he knew the person behind it, but familiar as in it felt like someone old, wise.

it felt like a presence he’d felt before he hatched in the egg.

he wanted to rush to that presence, but..

he didn’t want to scare you. especially not when your.. essence..? your essence made him want to lay his head on your lap, or cry on your shoulder, or share a cake with you knowing he wasn’t alone.

not when your presence felt like a lullaby he remembers only vaguely.

LILIA VANROUGE

he is this emoji: 😱.

if he’s old, then what are you? a relic?

the him from the past might’ve felt threatened, concerned what someone of your age would want with him and his people.

now? of course, he’s still concerned at what you’d want with his family, but when he sees you talking calmly with his sons- even befriending malleus, he starts to appreciate you.

he kind of wanted to cry in joy after he saw malleus in the courtyard, having lunch with a friend!

he’d.. also.. sigh, appreciate you teaching him spells. 😔..

he simply has to know the spell that makes a field of flowers! imagine the sleeping spots that silver would get to have!

[celuere]

Sister! My guilty pleasure is to be a damsel in distress, there's just something good about being rescued by your beloved no? Getting them to see them become protective, making sure you're secure, Safe and sound, a bonus point if they're usually calm, gets angry rarely but is now seething in rage just because you were in harm's way??? Chef's kiss!

Now..... Consider being kidnapped by the abyss and have Mavuika saving you? Big mistake because you are her beloved and closest confidant (and lover).

I LITERALLY LOVE THE IDEA OF MAVUIKA COMING TO UR RESCUE. Like have you seen her in the second Archon quest? Imagine how ballistic she‘d go if her beloved is in danger. Jwlwnekwkelkwbww pyro women always having me by my THROAT.

pairing: Mavuika x GN!reader

context: look at anon request!

cw: mentions of injuries, angry Mavuika coming to your rescue (literally so hot), kinda detailed description of Mavuika going crazy on her enemies????, written before the events of 5.0, bit fluffy at the end, NOT proofread!

I never really wrote anything like this before so I really hope this is to your liking anon!

When you took part in the latest pilgrimage you knew what to expect. The dangers, the night kingdom, the abyss. They weren’t unfamiliar with you. In fact, as Mavuika‘s -the currently Pyro Archon‘s- right hand and under other circumstances… lover… you were already old acquaintances with the ongoing conflict between the Nation of War and the Abyss.

But you didn’t expect things to go so horribly wrong.

A vacation. That’s all you thought it would be. You were the last person to ever struggle in the Night Kingdom, always looking out for the younger and inexperienced, never making a single mistake. Ensuring a successful mission with little to no injuries, nobody ever died under your guidance through corrupted realm.

But every hero is bound to mess up at one point.

Clutching your bloodied shoulder with your injured hand, the claws of a Rifthound barely missed your head as you rushed up whatever path opened up to you. You miscalculated. And it was only thanked to your quick reflexes that your whole troupe didn’t got wiped out with a single strike but every success in the Night Kingdom demands an equal sacrifice. Chasca didn’t have that luck.

And now you were stuck in the Night Kingdom. The only exit being sealed from the outside after you helped an injured Kinich make it out in time. It was either him or you and there was no way in hell you would’ve left him here on his own with a broken arm so you quite literally threw the already hurting young man over your shoulder and right into the portal, being left completely alone against a horde of at least 50 abyssal monsters.

Exhaustion was pulling at your muscles, the endless running and dodging drawing the air out of your lungs faster than you‘d like. Ribcage burning from your rapid intakes of oxygen but fighting wasn’t an option, there were just simply too many of them. Of course, you tried but all that earned you was a knife being rammed into your left thigh which only cut deeper into your flesh with each meter your feet carried you. Celestia knows how much longer you will last like this.

Reaching the end of the cliff you were running up to, no other option was left other than to jump down. Without a lake to catch up your fall, you took the leap and the moment your legs came in contact with the hard ground, you were pretty sure you broke more than just both your legs according to the almost mind-shattering pain shooting through your spine.

The pain scream leaving your mouth would have probably been enough to shatter a mirror, your eyes started to water, but not only at the mere agony you find yourself in as you stared in horror at the enemies closing in.

You won’t get to see her again. Won’t get to see her beautiful face next to you every morning, nor those ridiculous sunglasses she wore so often. When she pressed her lips to your cheek this morning, you would’ve never thought to be your last. Does Mavuika know just how much you love her? How much you cherish her in your heart? Did you say those three words often enough for her to be remember them at your funeral? Would she hate herself for letting you go? Or for how often she scolded you for drinking too often to your hearts content with Xilonen? You hoped she didn’t. Hoped she will continue living on without you.

Staring up at the starry sky above you, a sword was raised right above you. The only regret you had was not loving her enough. How you won’t be there when she finally -once and for all- triumphs over the abyss. How you won’t be there for the love of your life to celebrate the victory, the ultimate goal of her life.

A last wish left your lips in a faint whisper as a shooting star came flying towards you as death‘s clock chimed in twelve for you.

But instead of your anticipated beheading, something close to a meteorite came down crashing in front of you. The sheer heat radiating from the collision along with the dust being thrown your way, you shut your eyes closed as your ears became witnesses of the most terrifying and gut wrenching sounds.

There were bones being cracked, skulls being crushed, rifthounds being ripped apart as far as you could make out. Someone was ripping the Abyss to literal shreds before you. And maybe you were next.

From one moment to the next, silence started to echoe through the realm. The only sound to be heard - someone taking harsh breath. Then something heavy falling to the floor, followed by the sound of footsteps rushing up to you.

That’s it. They wanted to finish you off with their bare hands.

„[…]!!“

Ripping open your eyelids in pure shock at the familiar voice, your beloved dropped to her knees in front of you.

Mavuika. Dropped to her knees in front of you.

„Thank the stars you’re alive-!! Kinich and the others immediately notified me of the situation and-”, the rest of her words were drowned out as you stared in disbelief up at her, still clutching your broken shoulder with your hand. Even the pain coming from your legs and spine were to be quickly forgotten as you stared up at your wife‘s worried face.

Even those ridiculous glasses grazing the bridge of her nose. You were never happier to see that specific pair of glasses in your entire life.

She came.

She came to your rescue.

„….-get you to a doctor-!“, the sentence only now registered in your brain, the pain came shooting right back at you and you couldn’t stop the pained cry from leaving your mouth, black spots starting to adorn your wife‘s face as your eyelids became so incredibly heavy-

Maybe you were celebrating a bit too early when consciousness was ripped away from you.

———————

„Their injuries might take a few good months to heal. They will need a wheelchair for the time being until the bones are healed enough to talk about further steps.“, dread settled in Mavuika‘s stomach at the Doctor‘s diagnosis. That would mean no fighting or training for you. Something you won’t like. At all.

„I understand… I appreciate everything you did, Doctor. See you tomorrow.“, bidding her goodbye, Mavuika quietly sneaked into your room. There you were. The completely lower half of your scarred body wrapped in bandages. The sight tugged at her heart. But at least you were still asleep, only waking up for a good few minutes to take in a meal and maybe a trip to the toilet, the pain being suppressed by a few special herbs Madam Citlali mixed together.

Her eyes wandered over your peaceful face, the cut on your cheek still healing. And yet you were the most beautiful thing she ever laid her eyes upon. A fact that will never change.

When the news of your predicament reached her, Mavuika never acted so fast. Never in her life before did she summon a portal to Night Kingdom this fast. Fear. Fear was something that always accompanied her whenever she sent off the winners of the pilgrimage into a new fight. But what possessed her that day wasn’t fear.

It was terror. Cold terror. The mere thought of a life without you was unbearable to her, igniting a completely new flame inside of her that blinded her in that very moment she reached you right before you looked into death‘s very eyes. Will she ever let you participate again? If it goes after her, no. Never again. But she knew you well enough to know you would never let that happen, never let her carry the burden of Natlan‘s fate alone.

She will break it to you when you can actually stay up for longer than fifteen minutes. Your recovery and wellbeing were her top priority at the moment and such life changing news were to be handled delicately. For now she sat down besides you, hand wrapping around your bandaged one as her thumb stroked over the wedding ring still clinging to your finger.

She will wait for your next awakening for as long as needed.

[silovsmenot]

Bloody Nose | Matt Rempe

SUMMARY: During med school, your dad gets you a volunteer role with the New York Rangers to get some hands-on experience. On your first day, Matt Rempe clashes with Mathieu Olivier. WARNINGS: Mentions of blood & bruises. PAIRING: Matt Rempe x f! reader. NOTES: I don't think it's possible to not be feral for this guy. I'm sure this idea will have been done a hundred times before, but I couldn't help it. WORD COUNT: 1,600 FIND PART TWO HERE

It was not a role you were expecting as you were progressing through med school, in fact you never would’ve considered it if your dad didn’t know the general manager of the New York Rangers.

You needed some hands-on experience as part of your course, under supervision but in a real setting — while most of your friends went at found volunteer roles within doctors’ offices and hospitals where possible, you joined the medical team of the Rangers.

Of course, it was university policy that they had to approve the role, and they were quick to. You were not the first to find a role with a sports team, and you wouldn’t be the last. One student on the year above you spent a season with the Mets, which presented a whole different collection of injuries.

You didn't really know much about hockey, it had only been a passing interest as a child with your dad taking you to the odd game here and there ― you were certainly not a hockey fan but you were going to approach this with interest. And with how some of your friends publicly voiced their jealousy, you were becoming somewhat excited about the opportunity.

to expect. General hockey injuries ranged from the simple knocks, cuts and bumps to concussions, and everything in between. There was a lot that could happen, and you hadn't even considered the possibility of brawls yet.

In the early morning, you dressed into the simple uniform that you’d been given; a navy sports kit with the team logo and ‘team medic’ written simply across the back. You certainly looked the part. And with your hair tied back, you left your apartment for the airport. The medical staff travelled late to Columbus, and you’d be among them.

You’d already been introduced to the team medic, whose hand rose in a short wave at the first sight of you weaving through the small crowd. Simply relieved to see a familiar face within the flood of Rangers staff. In just under two hours, you were in Columbus, Ohio with a bubbling excitement.

For the whole ride to the rink, the senior medic talked you through your role. You’d take all of the ‘small’ injuries while he would be there for the more major, and any concussion assessments.

“Just be aware, Rempe likes a good fight — always be prepared to plug a bloody nose.” He sighed, giving your shoulder a friendly tap as he finally broke into a laugh. Excitement turned to a bubbling concern as you slowly nodded.

Players began to file into the arena, none having any idea who you were, but they did not question it. Staff came and went, and your navy Rangers tracksuit was enough to tell them that you were on the team.

There was one who’s eyes lingered a little longer than the others, and you felt your cheeks burning beneath his gaze. He must have been about a foot taller than you, shaggy brown hair and a mischievous grin that put a name to a face without even needing an introduction — this was Rempe.

You took your place at the end of the tunnel with the head medic, from there you’d watch the game, and be ready for any injuries that would come your way. Your heart was pounding as the puck dropped, this was for real and you silently pleaded that this would be a nice, calm game

But less than three minutes in, your eyes snapped up at the sound of the whistle — the gloves and sticks flying in different directions as two players grappled. You made no attempt to hide the rolling of your eyes as you grabbed the nearest towel, watching closely with each punch exchanged for any signs of blood. No blood meant they’d go to the box, you’d been told that much.

As the final punch was thrown, watching as the giant body of the Ranger was wrangled to the ice, none could miss the crimson that poured from his nose.

The head medic giving you the nod as you moved toward the gate ― a bloody nose was something that you could handle with your eyes closed, and he knew that. This was your one to handle.

You watched as the massive body of Rempe was skated to the bench by a referee, his eyes caught upon you once more as his lips curved into a pained grin. The crowd were going wild, stood on their feet as they cheered and screamed. It was your arm that he took as he stepped off the ice, the various hands of Rangers teammates tapping the 21-year-old on the back as you led him down the tunnel.

“Feeling okay?” You shouted over the cheers of the crowd as soon as you'd cleared the bench. You had to cock your head just to meet his eyes, his massive 6’8 body at your side. He almost flinched at the sound of your voice, the first words you’d spoken to him.

He didn't reply, he only nodded as he grinned, a bloody thumb raised for you to see. He was proud of himself and that was written clearly across his bloody face.

“Do me a favour,” You sighed, your hand pushing open the door to the medical room with the familiar pharmaceutical smell. “Warn me next time.”

That was enough to bring a laugh from his bloody lips, a bearish hand rising to wipe the crimson with a large smudge across his pale cheek. The red liquid was already everywhere, he’d need a blood jersey and you’d need a few minutes to clean this mess up.

“No promises, boss.” He teased in a whisper, dropping upon the medical bed with a thud. “What’s your name?”

You’d turned your back to him before he asked, collecting a cup of water and a handful of towels. It was well-timed as you felt that flushing of your cheeks almost instantly at his question.

“y/n, why?”

He sat completely still as you returned with hands full of towels are cotton wool, Matt had done this enough times to know what you’d ask him to do. His hand was already out and ready for the water that you’d give to him to swill out his bloody mouth.

“I’ve just not seen you with the team before … I’m Matt.”

You nodded in a silent ‘i know’, which made him laugh again. The pained grin seemingly stuck upon his lips as he watched you closely, every movement as if it were the first time he was seeing it — like he was seriously interested in the towels and the rolled wool. It was enough to bring that fluttering to your stomach.

He leaned forward onto his legs, bloody hands firmly planted upon his knees as he closed a gap between you. His voice no more than a whisper.

“Did you like my fight?”

You could feel his hot breath upon your skin as you stood, unmoving with a heavy inhale parting your lips. You were ready for blood and for broken bones, but you were not ready for this. Whatever this was.

“Do the girls normally like it?” You finally replied as you steadied yourself, brow rising in your own tease. Two could play that game, and you intended to play if he did.

Though he would not say it, your response drove him wild — that grin deepened as he leaned a little closer, his head cocking to keep your gaze tied with his own.

“They do.”

A slow nod, your hand placing the cup of water on the table beside him, your brow rose.

“How about you ask me when you win next time?”

It was far from the answer that he was expecting, but fuck — he liked the answer. He was resisting every urge to touch you, he sorely wanted to. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the fight, but you were very tempting to him.

You both, almost at the same time, broke into a shared laughter. His massive frame straightening up as he’d collect the cup of water, swilling the clear liquid before it would dribbling from his lips into the cup with a red tint.

“I don’t think you need me to do this for you?” You spoke with towels held toward him. He shook his head, taking them from you with a nod of thanks and began to wipe at the crusting crimson.

Things were quiet for a few moments, white towels turned red as his face became cleaner with each moment. The team’s kit manager would poke his head in with a clean jersey, which you quickly handed across.

You’d help him remove the blood-splattered jersey, catching a glimpse of his bare torso beneath the pads. Eyes were stuck upon the pale skin, which of course, he noticed. He liked that you were looking. Even as you helped him pull on the fresh, white jersey, his lips remained curved in the cheeky grin.

“You should come out for a drink with us after this.” Matt muttered with brows rising and falling, giving you a little nudge as he rose for the table and, once more, towered above you.

He crossed the room first, opening the door and holding it wide for you to exit first. As you walked through, you looked up with lips curved deep. You never expected to be glad of a fight, but you’d almost enjoyed wiping away all that blood.

“Maybe I will.”

[genshxn]

guess who wants to (honkai: star) rail another dragon man. there is also (un)fortunately no (star) railing in this.

written pre 1.3 so i’m making shit up for now. (this is also full of vidyadhara headcanons)

in which you find dan heng unable to sleep, you have an awkward conversation, and then he becomes somewhat dragon-brained. twice.

4.2K words (lmao this is way longer than i meant it to be)

you’re not the trailblazer, just another laddie aboard the express.

btw, i bullshited a good chunk of the dialogue and events, so apologies if this is shite. i might've also committed character vehicular manslaughter, in that he might be ooc. lol fingers crossed it's aight.

part 2’s finally up if you wanna read it here

despite the quiet of the night, you had drifted from your sleep. it had been painfully light as of recent, leaving you adrift in the shallows while you’d toss and turn for a comfortable position. could you really be blamed though? yes, the looming threat of phantylia had been taken out, and everyone from the express that went aboard the luofu had been reunited after what felt like weeks. but you were still in the thick of an intricate web of chaos. the threats were far from over, not with the stellaron still active. but at least for now, you had enough time in this brief respite to be able to not fucking sleep.

you rolled over. you were more or less itching with restlessness, sighing to yourself quietly over your woes of no sleep. you rose from your mussed bed and hobbled out of the room. it was a quaint little place—where you had stayed when it was just the express crew (minus dan heng), when you'd first met tingyun. after that, everything happened like a landslide. memories of her sudden death quickly boiled their way up. with each step you took, you stamped them back down again.

out in the small hallway, you made your way towards the small courtyard out the back. as you walked past the other rooms, you were a little jealous at the sounds of others sleeping. from mr. yang's and march’s respective rooms was the odd, soft snore. from stelle’s room, there was nothing (which was to be expected, as you often found her out messing with the cycrane systems at night). as you walked past dan heng’s room, you were expecting more silence—which you were of course met with, but also a slitted door. you peered through into the darkness. from the dim hallway light, it seemed he had also tried and failed at sleep if his abandoned, nest-like sheets were anything to go by.

you continued to the courtyard. once you cracked open the door, you were met with an unexpected sight. moonlight caught on the black, silken strands that spilt down his back. a glassy, teal tail coiled around his feet, almost glinting in the light with each of its subtle movements. dan heng, wearing his simple night clothes of old, baggy slacks and a tight, black tank top. his ears twitched as you slid the door open further. when you stepped onto the stone tiles, he cast you an over-shoulder glance—a new habit he’d picked up recently.

"can’t sleep either?" you asked him softly, approaching from behind. 

the only response he gave was a strained groan, dragging a hand over his face.

"i take that as a no, then," you said, moving over to sit in another stool at the small table just next to him. as you went past, his tail wound tighter around the foot of his seat. 

"i take it that it’s the same for you," he muttered in reply, jade eyes cast somewhere on the ground between him and you. 

"yep." you leaned against the table next to you, arm propping up your head. your eyes flickered to his face. "and not because i’ve been up playing gacha games."

he briefly met your gaze, eyebrows quirked in doubt.

"okay, i don’t do it anywhere near as much as stelle." 

"right," he said with the faintest hint of a smile. the tip of his tail twitched in amusement. "her room was very quiet when i walked past, though. perhaps she’s mended her ways." 

"i think she’s out screwing with the cycranes instead, actually." 

"of course she is," he breathed as he raked a hand through his long hair. as you watched it pass through the delicate tresses, you stared intently at his claws. after his initial transformation, to say you were floored was an understatement. perhaps more like you were punched 50,000 feet below sea level. he could really only be described as beautiful, but even that word couldn’t quite capture his ethereality. even when he was as exhausted as he looked now, he still seemed to glow—quite literally, too. his eyes and those horns atop his head shone faintly in the dark. when someone was that pretty, how could one not be reduced to a staring fool? particularly you.  as of recent, you’ve ended up forgetting you’re supposed to actually talk to him when he’s with you. and if you did remember to ever say anything, you’d make a fool of yourself. 

he watched your gaze affixed to his hands. he took one look at them and then wrung them in his lap, looking off to the side with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. 

"ah, i’m sorry—" you began, but he quickly cut you off. 

"it’s fine," he said hurriedly, tail coiling up tighter.

"no, really. i know i’ve been acting pretty weir—" 

"i said it’s fine. please, just leave it." he said again. he unwound himself just a little, but the tense line of his shoulders still had yet to dissipate. his gaze wandered a little more back towards you. "may i ask what’s keeping you up?" 

you weren’t thrilled at the spontaneous topic change, but replied nonetheless. "just about everything, i guess. a lot’s been going on. it’s hard to take any time to rest with a stellaron still effectively looming overhead," you said. "though i could only imagine it’s about that, but tenfold for you, given the whole..." you gestured vaguely to his whole new look. 

he dragged a hand down his face, rubbing his sleepy eyes in the process. "i don’t want to think about the stellaron for now…"

"agreed. shall we put a pin in that topic, then?"

"that would be ideal."

the two of you sat in more silence. you were (only half) guiltily back to staring at his features, eyes running over all parts of him. he seemed to shrink under your gaze, ears and tail twitching with thought. his eyes drifted up to look at you—oh, there was something new. his pupils must dilate or constrict based on what he was looking at. when his eyes met yours, you could have sworn they momentarily expanded, until his eyes flickered away again, waning right back to slits. at the same time, his ears angled themselves down just a touch. 

"a—are you feeling okay?" you asked, tilting your head a little. he made a small groan and shelled further into himself. you didn’t think you had ever seen him that tense. "hey, look at me. are you alright?" your voice was as soft as you could make it. you tried to reach out to the arm he had leaning on the table, but it was in vain. he inched away moments before contact.

"i—" his tail-tip continued to flicker with apprehension. 

"well, something else is definitely bothering you. can you talk to me about it?"

"m-must i?" he was almost hiding his face.

"only if you want to," you shuffled yourself a little closer to him. "but if it’s weighing this much on you, it may make you feel a little lighter. so you can sleep. y’know." while you spoke, you gestured somewhat vaguely. ever since his vidyadhara heritage was put on full display, he hadn’t quite been the same as you knew him. he was more tense than usual. on-edge and anxious, preoccupied with his own thoughts, much unlike the down-to-earth dan heng you normally knew. it worried you. he wasn’t even really speaking to mr. yang. with everything that had been going on, you could barely begin to imagine what sort of turmoils he had churning within him. 

"i suppose one thing is that i’m simply not used to this form," he ran a clawed, slender finger up from the base of his horn to the tip. "there’s a strange disparity between feeling like i’ve known myself to be like this my whole existence, but also that i’m suddenly someone i’m not." as he spoke, his voice was quiet. "in a similar vein, it’s like my tail has a mind of its own. look at it," he grumbled while he picked it up into his lap. as he held it bundled in his arms, the tip hung over the side, twitching to and fro. "i’m not trying to make it do that. i can’t control it." he sighed, a slight growl in his throat. 

"wouldn’t it do that because you’ve been so… frazzled, as of recent?" 

"what makes you think that?" 

"um…" how were you supposed to tell him that you only had that theory because you had been constantly stealing glances of him, watching his moods, watching his languid beauty. instead, you thought of some other bullshit answer. "i mean, it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? it’s like cats. their tails twitch when they’re irritated, and i’m sure they can’t quite control it." 

he frowned a little, ears twitching downward. "i’m not a cat," he said, almost with a little pout. 

maybe not, but he was certainly cute like one. "anyway, what you said about your new features…" you began, scratching the back of your head. to your surprise, he looked at you with eyes just a little wider than normal. "i could only imagine how weird it must be for you… who am i kidding, no i couldn’t. it’s probably downright foreign, but you’re dan heng. i’m sure you’ll have it under control in no time." 

with his hands on his knees, he aimlessly grabbed at fistfuls of his loose pants. "you…" he muttered, wetting his lips as he swallowed thickly once again. 

"me?" you echoed quietly.

"forgive me for asking something so asinine, but… what… do you think?" as he muttered out the words, you could have sworn his face was turning a light shade of pink. however, it was hard to tell under only the moon and the dim lights of the courtyard. what you could tell was that his tail-tip was twitching like a bundle of nerves.

you stared at him with owlish eyes. "what do i think of what?" 

"what do you think of… me. as i am now?" 

your breath caught in your throat for a moment as he stared at you with such apprehensive eyes. they were slitted from nerves, but they shone with the moonlight, expectation and most curiously, some sort of hope. "um…"

"i’ve noticed how much you stare at me, yet you said nothing when you first saw me, unlike mr. yang or march. now, you feel almost stilted when you’re with me, like you refuse to address what’s in front of you." 

you swallowed hard at his words. "didn’t stelle also not…" you trailed off. you were doing it again, what he quite literally just said. 

"i’ve spoken to her since then. i’m asking you." he seemed to have regained a little confidence, sitting up straighter and looking at you with the slightest bit more intensity.

now it was your turn to grab at fistfuls of your clothes. you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you spoke, heart pounding a mile a minute. "you’ve been truthful with me, so i guess i should too," you muttered. "you, ah, um…" this was really not the direction you thought this conversation would go in. "to be really honest with you, i keep staring because you’re so… pretty."

dan heng sat motionless. if it weren’t for his vidyadhara features, he almost could have gotten away with simply being frozen. upon your words, his eyes widened just a fraction, jade-white pupils dilating. his ears twitched back upwards and his tail fell still. heavy moments of silence passed while you two stared at each other. it seemed like he was waiting for you, so you kept talking. "i didn’t speak much to begin with simply because i was so surprised. i mean, we see you again after so long and there you are, just about the most beautiful thing i’d ever seen, suddenly with the power to split an ocean. after that, i didn’t trust myself to not be weird about you, so i… kind of just refused to say anything." you rubbed the back of your neck, face burning. "but i guess that plan fell flat on its face if you noticed me staring so much." 

once you finished speaking, his gaze fell into his lap, gazing down at his hands that held fistfuls of fabric once again. "but… these powers aren’t me." 

"of course not. they’re not you, only a fraction of the whole you," there was a slight smile on your lips. "are you worried that i don’t see you as dan heng anymore?" 

he made no effort to confirm or deny anything, simply remaining as he was—a blatant yes for him. 

a small smile made its way onto your face. "you’re always going to be one and only dan heng that the whole express—that i—know and love, no matter what other forms you take." you shuffled yourself closer to him once again, now finally able to reach out and brush your thumb over the back of his hand. as you sat there, your face was burning up at your words. did you really have to word it like that? if you really wanted to be honest with him, then yes. 

he was still sat ramrod upright, but a blush now dusted his cheeks and his pupils were blown wide. his tail-tip was back to moving, this time wagging back and forth. he looked between you and your hand on his own, letting out a shaky breath. while he was still as nerve-wrecked as could be, a weight on his shoulders seemed to have been lifted. he looked like he was about to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth, out came a long yawn. even though he tried to hide it with with his wrist, you still managed to catch a glimpse of his fangs. 

"sorry," he muttered, rubbing one of his eyes. “also, you’re still staring."

"ah, i—i’m sorry, i’ve been acting so weird. i—that habit’s not gonna go away any time soon…" you yanked your hands back into your lap. he looked a little disappointed at the new lack of contact. "anyway, how do you think you’ll sleep now?"

"please do not worry about me. what about yourself?" 

"um…" your heart is still pounding in your throat. "i—i don’t know, to be honest." whatever the answer was, it was bound to be ‘not well’.

"in the past, you’ve come to the archives when you haven’t been able to sleep. you’d place yourself on my bed and then ten minutes later, i’d find you fast asleep." his voice was soft when he spoke, almost with a faint note of mirth. "i wouldn’t mind if you…"

your eyes almost fell out of your head. "hold on, are you really—"

"you’re welcome to sleep next to me, if you’d like." 

"like in your room?" 

"where else?" when he stared at you, there wasn’t much obvious emotion on his face, but at the same time, he seemed so earnest with his tail-tip flicking back and forth happily. 

"but i thought you found it annoying when i did that?" 

"only because you'd wake me in the early hours of the morning. truly, i’ve never been opposed to it."

your face prickled with heat as you raked a hand through your hair. "are you sure you’re completely the same dan heng?" 

"hey." he looked miffed. 

"sorry, sorry." you were just about hiding your face in your hands by this point. "i just thought—" before you could finish, he stood up, long tail unwinding from around the seat. he took two steps and then plucked you off of your own chair. as you yelped in shock, he flopped you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “hey, what’re you—?!" 

"would you stop being so adamant if i say it will help me sleep too?" 

you gave up drumming on his back, only able to hang in embarrassment as you covered your face. your head may as well have been steaming. "wh—what the fuck is this?" 

he made no reply as he marched you back inside. as he walked, you watched his tail-tip as it was curled upwards, swaying from side to side. his room was close—he opened the door with his foot, stepped in and slid it closed again with his tail. as soon as you were properly enclosed, he placed you onto the bed with unexpected gentleness. in the past, if you were causing trouble, his method of dealing with you was hauling you off somewhere and simply dropping you—now, it was the opposite. you were left dazed in the middle of the sheet-nest, only back to your senses once dan heng got in next to you. but instead of settling down for sleep like you anticipated, he was shuffling about on his knees, rearranging the sheets and pillows so they were in a better formation, according to him. he was even using his tail to smooth out the sheets into circular patterns. 

"are you nesting or something?" you asked, bewildered. 

with no reply, he finally settled down further up against the splayed pillows. "come." he held his arms open for you, but when you made no movement, his tail roped you in instead. you were drawn into his not-very-tight vice grip, trapped in next to him. he held you loosely around the waist with clasped hands, head placed atop your leg where he seemed to be using your side like a pillow. his horns poked into your stomach every time he nuzzled... he was really nuzzling you...

"dan heng, seriously, what’s gotten into you?" 

with only a hum, he ceased his movements and craned his head up, staring at you from behind thick lashes. his pupils were still blown wide open. you couldn’t help but find it mildly foreboding. 

"i don’t understand why you’re… so touchy. i thought you were normally allergic to contact?" 

"is it not enjoyable?" he tilted his head. his fluffy hair flopped in his face with his movement. internally, one part of you was screaming YEEEES and crushing beer cans into your forehead, while the other, larger part of you was just plain screaming. you wanted to bask in this shower of attention, but at the same time, it felt so wrong—like he wasn’t really himself. whatever dragon-brain mindfuckery was going on in his head, it was certainly potent. 

"it’s not that, i just… are you sure you’re thinking straight? or do i need to spell out the situation? because you’ve hauled me back to your bed, made a nest around me and are now cuddling me like a pillow."

dan heng blinked once, twice and then his body went rigid. he pushed himself off of you and leapt to the corner of the bed, crouched with his tail once again wound around him. "wh—what was i…?" he looked down at his hands as if they were soaked in blood. his face was flaring red with a blush. 

"you seemed rather convinced i was something like your treasure hoard for a moment," you said.

upon your words, he sank his head in his hands, and whatever noise he made in embarrassment sounded like a groaning sob. "forgive me, i don’t know what came over me…" 

"some kinda vidyadhara instinct?” it was almost like he was trying to court you. 

"something like that," he muttered from behind his hand that now covered his mouth. his gaze was fixed to a random point before him and his ears were down-turned. "i… i’ve never felt it that strong before."

"wait, you’ve felt it befo—?" right before you could finish, his tail silenced you, thwacking itself against your lips. meanwhile, he was hiding his face again. with the way his shoulders hunched, you were worried—he seemed genuinely distressed. it was a miracle he hadn’t run off somewhere by that point. with a concerned frown, you took his tail in hand and spoke again. "hey, um, this might not help whatsoever, but it was actually… rather nice when you did that." you struggled to look at him. if you called it cute like it was, you’d just be blowing whatever chance you had at keeping him in place. 

he looked over at you, ears perked up. his incredulous eyes went as wide as could be, almost like two moons. a moment passed, and the tail in your hands began to sway. "really?"

"really," you nodded. "it was just shocking to begin with, but i—if you want, you can do it again."

dan heng turned his body to face you, swallowing thickly and trying to meet your gaze. he was stuck dithering for a few moments until he ultimately crashed again, flopping forward until his face was flat on the mattress. "i can’t," he muttered, voice muffled. 

"oh, um, why?" your eyes went wide. 

he turned his face to the side, unable to make a coherent reply beyond a strained, squeaky groan. he was still burning hot with a heavy flush, but it was soon covered by his tail that draped itself over his head. "too embarrassing.” 

a small, light laugh slipped from your lips. he coiled further into himself at the sound of it, but he was soon unwound when you had your hands on him, guiding him back up next to you. he was as stiff as could be when he laid down next to you, gaze cast down the other end of the bed. you tucked a stray lock of long hair behind one of his ears. when your touch grazed past him, his pink-tipped ear twitched wildly, and he buried his face into the pillow beneath him. "why don’t you let me do something? you did say this would help you sleep, didn’t you?"

"while i was practically in a daze. i wasn’t thinking right," he complained, voice once again muffled. "this will only keep me awake, if anything." 

"maybe, we’ll see." as you spoke, you took to running your fingers through his long, silky hair. you gathered it up from behind him and brought it forward, draping it over his shoulder. your fingers glided through as though they were passing through a soft mist, fluid and sleek. before long, as you gradually let your hands drift higher until they would pass over his head, he began to decompress. stuttering, held breaths became steady and soft. his nervous-contorted face was dissipating, and his heavy blush was fading to a simple dusting of pink. 

when his eyes fell closed, you glanced up at his horn. beyond just staring at him, you were also tempting fate with how much you wanted to touch his new features. you couldn’t help it though—humans are such curious, tactile creatures, it was simply in your nature. one hand left his hair, which he barely seemed to notice, and inched its way to his horn that threatened to poke you. finally, your fingertip ghosted its surface. it was as smooth as glass, and just as cool to the touch. in fact, you could almost describe it as silky, like his scales. he twitched under your touch, eyes parting open. his pupils were blown wide open again. 

"ah, i’m sorry, i—" you began, but he soon cut you off. 

"no, keep going." he grabbed your hand and placed it back on his horn. you blinked incredulously for a moment, but soon continued as you were, running your fingertips up and down the glassy blue projections. he closed his eyes again and, making yours widen, his soft breaths were followed by a faint rumbling in his chest—a purr. he really was like a cat. 

a few moments later, you felt something long wind its way around your leg. you looked down. his tail was snaking its way up your leg, until the tip draped itself happily over your lap where it laid swishing from side to side. you fell still in shock when he shuffled his body closer to yours until he laid flush against your side. he laid one of his arms across your chest and reached for your shoulder, pulling you in just a little closer to him. 

"you stopped again." his voice was barely a whisper when he leaned his head in the crook of your neck. one of his horns was cool against the back of your neck. 

"it’s a little hard to do anything when you’re this close," you muttered back. 

"then just stay as you are." he nuzzled about with a yawn. he must have been finally settling down for sleep, but that meant using you as a body pillow. your tail-twined leg was drawn towards him, where he draped his own leg over top of it, caging it in between his calves. 

“d-dan heng…” you tried to say his name as if that would do anything, but he paid you no mind. lost in his hypnagogic trance, he only muttered sweet nothings with his lips against your shoulder.

his voice was barely audible. dragon-brain must have been in full swing, because he finished off with a quiet: “you will be mine one day, my beloved…"

you nearly exploded then and there.

i love me some emotive ears, mm yes.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton

I'm back with more Lew ❤️

warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty

wordcount: +3k

important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.

The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.

You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.

You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.

Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.

“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already

“Sorry, took longer than we expected”

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”

“No need, I’ll always find my way to you”. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.

A scream

“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.

“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.

You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.

“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.

“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.

“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.

“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.

When baking chocolate chip cookies

“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.

“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead

“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.

As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.

“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.

“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.

“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.

“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.

“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.

“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.

“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board 

 

Not said to me

You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.

“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.

Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.

“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".

When we lay together by the sun

The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.

“By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.

“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.

“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.

“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”

“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.

“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you. 

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.

“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.

“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.

A whisper in the ear

Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.

His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family. 

“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.

“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.

“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.

“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.

Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.

He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.

“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.

Over the shoulder

The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.

You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.

“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.

“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.

“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”   

“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!”  You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.

It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.

“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.

“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.

“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.

[reidmarieprentiss]

I Love You, I'm Sorry

Summary: Based on this request! You write and perform a new song, Spencer hears it.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x singer!fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: post break up blues, reminiscing past relationship

Word count: 2k

a/n: i hope this is what you wanted <3333

main masterlist

Backstage, your heart raced. The thump of the music and the roar of the crowd seemed to pulse through your entire body as if the whole of Madison Square Garden was vibrating with your nerves. You took a steadying breath, trying to collect yourself, but it was hard to ignore the flood of emotions clawing up from deep within. The thin straps of your dress sat delicately on your shoulders, and you smoothed your hands down the ruffled fabric, hoping that the trembling would stop.

This wasn't just any performance—it was the performance. A surprise song, one no one was expecting. One that held the raw, unfiltered truth of your heartbreak. "I Love You, I'm Sorry." You had written it when everything was still fresh, when the pain of your breakup was like a shadow that followed you everywhere. At the time, it had been too hard to even think about sharing with the world. But tonight, you were ready. 

The understage elevator began to rise, and you closed your eyes, willing the nerves to stay down, to let your voice and the song take over. The cheering above grew louder and louder, shaking the very ground beneath you. The audience didn't know what was coming, and part of you reveled in that—the sweet anticipation, the feeling of holding something so dear to yourself just a moment longer. 

When the platform locked into place, the stage lights were blinding, but they were familiar, almost comforting in their brightness. You took another breath, one more attempt to steady yourself, and pasted on a smile as you faced the crowd. The warm air filled with thousands of screams and cheers wrapped around you, the collective energy swallowing you whole.

Then, the first soft notes of "I Love You, I'm Sorry" filled the arena, a gentle melody drifting across the vast sea of faces. It was only seconds, but you could feel the change in the crowd, the gasp of realization—their screaming rising to a fever pitch, louder than anything you'd heard all night. This was something new. Unheard. Unseen. Yours.

You gripped the mic stand tighter as the lyrics began to spill from your lips, each word carrying the weight of the heartbreak and healing you'd experienced. For the first time, you weren’t just singing to them—you were sharing a piece of your soul, one you’d kept hidden until tonight. And in this moment, standing on stage with the sound of your voice echoing off the walls, you felt like you could finally let it all go, each note a step towards something new, something freeing.

This was your moment. Your truth. And as the crowd listened, every word hung in the air like a shared confession—a story that was yours but felt like it belonged to everyone who ever loved, lost, and tried to find their way back.

Two Augusts ago

I told the truth, oh, but you didn't like it, you went home

You're in your Benz, I'm by the gate

Now you go alone

Charm all the people you train for, you mean well but aim low

And I'll make it known like I'm getting paid

—

Penelope’s phone buzzed on the desk, lighting up with a notification that had her immediately squealing with excitement. Her eyes darted to the screen, and she gasped, hand flying to her mouth as she read the alert. It was from a fan account—one dedicated to her absolute favorite artist. The one she had posters of plastered all over her home office and whose songs made up nearly every one of her playlists. And they had huge news: a surprise song, performed live tonight, and someone was streaming it illegally. 

Normally, Penelope would never (lol) endorse anything illegal, but this was different. This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment she couldn’t miss. With barely a thought, she tapped on the link, the stream immediately popping up on her screen. The image quality wasn’t the best—dark and shaky as someone tried their best to hold their phone steady over a sea of swaying arms—but the audio was good enough. And Penelope’s heart pounded in her chest as she realized she didn’t know the song.

She pressed the phone closer to her ear, listening as the artist’s voice rose above the noise of the crowd. It cut through the chatter like a blade, the lyrics flowing effortlessly. 

That's just the way life goes  

I like to slam doors closed  

Trust me, I know it's always about me  

I love you, I'm sorry

“Reid!” she shrieked, almost dropping her phone in her haste as she rushed to her feet. She moved faster than she had in ages, practically leaping down the rows of desks to where Spencer was hunched over, diligently working on his reports. The bullpen was nearly empty at this late hour, with only a few agents scattered here and there, too tired to react to Penelope's sudden outburst. 

Spencer’s head jerked up at the sound of her voice, his face a mixture of surprise and confusion as she dashed toward him. “Reid!” she repeated, more insistently this time. “You have to see this!”

He blinked, looking between her and the glowing screen of her phone, a bemused expression spreading across his features. “What’s going on?” he asked, leaning back in his chair as she thrust the phone right in front of his face.

The phone's speakers crackled slightly as Penelope thrust it closer to Spencer's face, the low-quality audio doing nothing to dull the sharpness of the voice that poured from it—soft, melodic, achingly familiar. Spencer's pulse quickened as soon as he heard the voice, and his breath caught in his throat. That voice... It was you. It was your voice. And every word that spilled from your lips seemed to slice through the silence, embedding themselves into the space between his ribs like a blade.

Two summers from now  

We'll have been talking, but not all that often, we're cool now  

I'll be on a boat, you're on a plane  

Going somewhere sane  

And I'll have a drink  

Wistfully lean out my window and watch the sun set on the lake  

It might not feel real, but it's okay

'Cause that's just the way life goes  

I push my luck, it shows  

Thankful you don't send someone to kill me  

I love you, I'm sorry

Spencer's mouth went dry as the lyrics tumbled out in your voice—so familiar, like a touch he'd longed for but hadn't felt in ages. The melancholy melody hung in the air, weaving a story so heartbreakingly intimate that it felt as though you were standing right there, whispering the words directly to him. He couldn't move; his eyes were glued to the shaky video on Penelope’s phone, but his mind was far away, drowning in memories he’d tried so hard to keep at bay. 

Every note, every breath in your voice struck a chord within him. And the lyrics—the lyrics stung. Spencer could feel the thin layer of calm he'd built around himself start to crack, the words hitting too close to home, exposing emotions he'd tried so desperately to hide away. 

His fingers clenched the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white as he fought to steady himself. Did you still... love him? Despite everything? Despite the separation, the silence that had stretched between them like an unbridgeable chasm? 

I love you, I'm sorry.

"Reid?" Penelope’s voice sounded distant, her usually bubbly tone filled with concern as she took in Spencer’s reaction. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You were the best but you were the worst  

As sick as it sounds, I loved you first  

I was a dick, it is what it is  

A habit to kick, the age-old curse  

I tend to laugh whenever I'm sad  

Stare at the crash, it actually works  

Making amends, this shit never ends  

I'm wrong again, wrong again

The words cut him deep. Each line seemed to hold up a mirror to your past—a past he’d tried so hard to bury, but one that never really stayed buried. Spencer could hear the regret in your voice, and it only made his own regrets bubble to the surface. His eyes stayed fixed on the screen, and he could almost see the intensity in your eyes, the way you closed them as you sang, finally letting the truth out.

He couldn't breathe. It was too much. He could feel the familiar tightening in his chest, the way his heart ached like it was being squeezed by a vice. You had always known how to say exactly what you felt, even if you didn't always share those thoughts with him when you were together. But this... this was different. Every note felt like a confession. A confession of the mistakes you made, the mistakes he made.

God, you were beautiful. You looked so beautiful that it hurt to look. It hurt to remember how it felt to hold you, how you fit perfectly in his arms, how your laugh had always been contagious, how your voice could calm every storm in his mind. He could feel a tear prickling at the corner of his eye, but he blinked it back, forcing it away. He couldn’t lose himself like this, not here, not in front of Penelope.

But he knew why she was showing him this—of course, he did. He knew Penelope adored you, both as a fan and as a friend. But more than that, he knew Penelope loved him, and seeing him carry the weight of the breakup had broken her heart just as much as it broke his. She probably thought showing him this would help, somehow. Maybe hearing your voice again would bring some sort of closure. Or maybe, Penelope just wanted him to know that you hadn’t forgotten about him either. That you still felt something.

The way life goes

Joyriding down our road

Lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me

I love you, I'm sorry

“Penelope,” Spencer's voice cracked as he tried to speak, his gaze never leaving the screen. He wanted to tell her to turn it off, to shut it down before he completely unraveled right there in the office. But he couldn’t. The sound of your voice had him rooted to the spot, and every breath felt like a struggle.

Penelope bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before she spoke. “I... I just thought you should see this, Spencer. I know you’re not, like... together anymore. And I know you never talk about it. But... this song... it’s about you. I just know it is.”

Spencer let out a shaky sigh, gripping the phone tighter as your voice filled the air around them. He couldn’t stop the memories from flooding in—the way her your smelled when you rested your head on his shoulder, the way you’d laugh at the smallest, silliest things just to make him smile, the fights, the apologies, the “I love you’s” whispered in the middle of the night.

And now, all those memories seemed to wrap themselves around the lyrics you sang—lyrics that felt like a secret letter meant just for him. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to listen to the rest of the song, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away, either.

The way life goes (you were the best but you were the worst)

(As sick as it sounds, I loved you first)

I wanna speak in code (I was a dick, it is what it is)

(A habit to kick, the age-old curse)

Hope that I don't, won't make it about me (I tend to laugh whenever I'm sad)

(Stare at the crash, it actually works)

I love you, I'm sorry

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

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[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [2]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 10.3k 🤡

Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"I still can't believe you actually said yes to him. What happened to love being a luxury for us, hm?" Subin teased, not letting you off the hook since she found out about the military strategist's bold invitation. That was surprising enough, but nothing shocked her more than your acceptance.

You sighed, tightening the bow of your hanbok before heading to the full-length mirror in your room to check your hair. "Oh, stop it. You know this is nothing more than a way to demonstrate our teamwork. Officer Song is a colleague, and we are simply taking the chance to network and show support for the union with Ruhon."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, you keep telling yourself that, unnie."

You truly didn’t want to think much of it.

You were already planning to attend the banquet anyway, with or without Mingi's invitation. As one of the more senior and recognised royal physicians in the palace, your attendance at these events was mostly expected. While his attempts to spend time with you hadn't gone unnoticed, you treated them as nothing but friendly gestures.

As you finished adjusting your hanbok, you resolved to keep things strictly professional. Whatever he thought might happen, you would make it clear that you were unavailable. You would convince him to give up, knowing his efforts would only be in vain.

Right, let's get this over with.

The evening of the banquet arrived, and the palace buzzed with activity. Lanterns illuminated the courtyards, and the air was filled with music and laughter. Excitement filled you as you stepped out of the female physicians' quarters to find the tall and dashing military strategist already waiting. He wore a grand hanbok, a stark contrast to his usual training clothes. His hair was slicked back, and his hands were clasped behind his back as he paced, eyes fixed on the ground.

You took a deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat. After all, you were only human, and this was a stunning man before you. But you had to remind yourself that nothing was ever going to happen between you two and that you had only agreed to attend the event with him as a gesture of camaraderie.

Nothing more, nothing less.

After composing yourself, you cleared your throat and called out, "Officer Song, you really didn't have to come all the way here. I could have just met you at the grand hall along with everyone else."

Mingi perked up, his heart thundering at the sound of your voice. When he turned to face you, his breath momentarily caught at the sight of you so dressed up. You were always beautiful to him, but tonight, you were even more enchanting.

He bowed slightly and stepped closer. "You look… perfect, my lady."

You blinked rapidly, hoping the blush you felt wasn’t obvious on your face. He continued, "Of course, I had to come here. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t? More importantly, you're not just anyone else to me, Royal Physician Ahn. You're my—"

Not wanting to hear the rest, you flashed a large, courteous smile. "Ah, we should probably head over if we don't want to be late. Let us go, Officer Song," you said, cutting him off. His smile faltered slightly before he nodded. "R-right, let us."

Throughout the night, the military strategist remained faithfully by your side. Unfortunately, his attentive gestures did not go unnoticed by those around you, leaving you flustered and repeatedly clarifying that you were merely colleagues.

"Really, Royal Physician Ahn? That's a shame, you two would make a beautiful couple," teased Lady Park. You sputtered, choking on your drink. She panicked and reached over to pat you on the back, glancing at a very concerned Mingi who was conversing with the general. With a reassuring smile, she mouthed, "I'll take care of her."

Officer Song resisted rolling his eyes as Seonghwa smiled dreamily at his adorable wife, not realising he was just as guilty of it—if only he knew he looked the same whenever you were around.

"I-I'm fine. Thank you, Lady Park. But I assure you, nothing can happen between us. It is forbidden; I am a woman of the palace."

The pregnant woman grinned in response. "So, are you saying that if you weren't a palace woman, you definitely would have given General Officer Song a chance?"

You sighed, offering her a half-hearted smile. "There's no use pondering that, my lady. It's impossible," you whispered the last part.

She softened, touching your shoulder gently. "Nothing is impossible if only you desire it hard enough, my dear."

Your heart warmed at her words, but you knew better than to believe them. With an appreciative nod, you gestured to her baby bump. "So, how has pregnancy been treating you, my lady?" you asked, steering the conversation away from dangerous territory. You were afraid of temptations and could not afford to give in to any of them.

The conversation with Lady Park was cut short when a certain fourth prince appeared behind her, hesitantly taking an uncertain step forward. You blinked, trying not to stare too obviously, but she noticed your eyes shifting toward something over her shoulder.

With furrowed brows, she wondered aloud, "Just what are you looking at, Royal Physician Ahn?" She turned and froze upon locking eyes with Prince Yeosang. As she moved to bow, he hurriedly reached out to stop her, gently holding her by her forearms.

"It's been a while, my lady. Would you… care to catch up?" he asked.

She bit her lip, turning to meet her husband's warm gaze. Seonghwa nodded, signalling that the decision was up to her, and she excused herself to speak with her friend. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the prince's one-sided feelings for Lady Park persisted. Everyone in Joseon had heard of His Highness' not-so-subtle advances back then. The gossip at that time was quite juicy, but it was good to see him accepting defeat gracefully. The once bratty fourth prince had disappeared; it seemed the general's wife truly had a strong hold on his heart, changing him for the better even with her firm rejection.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your chaperone reappeared by your side. You weren't sure how to feel around the gentle giant. His presence was both comforting and unnerving.

"Everything alright?" Mingi asked softly, concern evident in his eyes.

"Yes, everything is fine," you replied, smiling up at him. "Just a bit of palace drama."

He chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Palace drama indeed. Shall we continue to mingle, or would you like to take a break?"

You appreciated his attentiveness, but the whirlwind of emotions from the evening had left you feeling somewhat drained. "A break sounds nice," you admitted.

Mingi beckoned for you to follow and you did, allowing him to lead you to a quieter corner of the grand hall. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. The evening was proving to be far more eventful than you had anticipated, and you knew you had to stay vigilant against his allurements that seemed to be lurking at every turn.

As you both reached a more secluded area, he quickly said, "Wait here, I'll get you something to drink."

You sighed, reaching for his arm. "You don't have to do that, Officer Song. I don't want anyone to misunderstand. I've been meaning to tell you: there's nothing between us, and there never will be."

He paused, turning to face you properly. You looked away almost immediately, guilt gnawing at you as you caught a glimpse of the hurt reflected in his eyes. A heavy silence settled between you, each struggling to collect your thoughts.

Mingi knew winning your heart wouldn't be easy, but the early rejection still stung deeply. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but steady. "I understand your concerns, truly. But my intentions are genuine. I'm sorry if I've caused you any discomfort or misunderstanding. I just want you to know how much I care."

You bit your lip, the sincerity in his words making it even harder. "I appreciate your honesty, but I have my duties and responsibilities. My life is here in the palace, and I can't afford distractions."

He nodded slowly, taking a step back to give you space. "I respect your dedication. I just… before I let you go, there's one thing I need to know. We've actually met each other years ago. Did you… did you remember me when you saw me again?"

Your expression remained unreadable as you mustered a response. After what felt like an eternity, with the military strategist standing with bated breath and his heart pounding in his ears, you finally met his eyes and softly said, "No, I'm afraid don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry, Officer Song…"

His heart sank. "Oh."

The weight of his disappointment hung in the air. He took a step back, struggling to mask the hurt that flashed across his face. He had held onto the hope that perhaps, even faintly, you had remembered him. That tiny hope had been a beacon for him, a justification for his persistence. But now, it seemed all for naught.

What if His Majesty had been right?

"That's… that's okay," he finally said, forcing a weak smile. "I must have been mistaken."

You nodded, the guilt intensifying as you watched him grapple with his emotions. "I'm really sorry. Perhaps you have."

Except that was a complete lie.

You remembered. In truth, you had never forgotten. How could you? To have seen Song Mingi in person was to understand that he wasn't someone easy to forget, even when pale and sickly on his deathbed. He was undeniably gorgeous. Beyond his appearance and physique, his warm gaze, soft touch, and sweet words lingered in your memory, impossible to leave behind.

You'd recognised him since day one.

It took everything in you to maintain a composed façade and steady your racing heart as you locked eyes with the military strategist for the first time in years. Before you stood a man, well and strong, embodying everything you had ever wanted.

But you had to quell your desires, silence your dreams, and dismiss any thoughts of the impossible. Years had passed, and you had assumed he was married by now. Later, you discovered he wasn't.

Yet, it changed nothing.

You were now a palace woman, and that sealed the hopelessness of your situation. So you chose to pretend, to feign ignorance of your shared past. It was for the best—for him and for you.

Sometimes, you wondered if you were trying to convince him or yourself more. It was the very reason you dreaded seeing him; not out of dislike or annoyance, but because you were just as captivated by him as he was by you. Had you been an ordinary physician outside the palace walls, you would have accepted his love in a heartbeat.

But things were different now.

Rules were rules.

You and General Officer Song were a beautiful impossibility, and you had to do everything to keep it that way.

Yet, his constant presence was a quiet storm, eroding your resolve. Every gentle gesture, each attempt to show he could protect and cherish you, made it increasingly difficult. His persistence, so tender and genuine, weakened your defences, and you were frightened—terrified, even—of the feelings blooming within you.

Why must he be so cruel?

His kindness, his sincerity, his unwavering dedication—they all tugged at your heartstrings, weakening your defenses. Every time he appeared with that soft smile, every time he looked at you with those earnest eyes, it became increasingly difficult to remember why you had to keep him at arm's length.

And tonight, standing in the secluded corner of the grand hall, facing the man you had spent years trying to forget, you felt your carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. The reality of your situation pressed heavily on you, a constant reminder of the boundaries that could not be crossed.

Song Mingi, with his genuine concern and quiet strength, embodied everything you had ever wanted but could never have. His mere presence was a cruel reminder of what could have been in another life, another world. A world where you were free to love him without consequence.

But you weren't in that world. You were here, bound by duty and rules that were impossible to break. So you swallowed your feelings, pushed down the burgeoning hope, and forced yourself to remember the impossible nature of your situation.

Because letting yourself love him—truly, deeply love him—would only lead to heartache for you both. And you couldn't bear the thought of causing him any more pain than you already have.

You sighed, swallowing the lump forming in your throat as you gazed up at him solemnly. "I, uh… I'm feeling rather tired. I shall retire to my quarters for the night. Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Officer Song. It truly is a joy to befriend Lady Park. It's also wonderful to finally see Joseon and Ruhon getting along well. It seems like things are really looking up for us."

But they weren't.

Both of you thought it, but neither dared to say it aloud.

You smiled courteously, bowing respectfully. "Goodnight, Officer Song. I hope you enjoy the rest of the banquet with your friends."

Just as you turned to leave, he reached out an arm to stop you, though not touching you. Damn it. Damn him and his gentlemanly gestures. "Wait, my lady. Please allow me to escort you back—"

You bowed again, cutting him off, afraid to hear the rest of it. "Please enjoy the rest of the banquet."

With that, you left, leaving behind a strong man staring longingly after you like a lovesick puppy. You didn't have the courage to spare a final glance at him, knowing another look at his pleading eyes would make you give in, and you couldn't have that. Not now. Not ever. You needed to put an end to this.

As you walked away, your heart ached with every step. The distance between you and Mingi grew, but the weight of your emotions only became heavier. The grand hall's festive atmosphere faded into the background as you focused on maintaining your resolve.

Arriving back at the female physician's quarters, you couldn't summon the energy to put on yet another fake smile for Subin. Your friend waited excitedly for you by the entrance, but her beam faltered as she registered the expression on your face.

"You told him to stop, didn't you?" she asked softly, reaching over to grab your hand.

You nodded wordlessly, too weary to say anything more. Subin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you into your room, murmuring, "It'll be okay… I'm here."

You broke into a tiny smile, leaning into her hold appreciatively. Her warmth and understanding were a balm to your frayed nerves. As you settled into the familiar comfort of your quarters, the weight of the evening began to lift, if only slightly.

Subin's presence was a reminder that you weren't alone, even in your struggle to keep your feelings at bay. She helped you sit down, then knelt beside you, her eyes filled with concern and compassion.

"I know it's hard," she said gently, "but you're strong. You did what you had to do."

You sighed, closing your eyes as you leaned back against the wall. "I just... I can't believe I'm saying this, but I just wish things were different, you know?"

She nodded, squeezing your hand. "I know, unnie. But remember, you're not alone in this. We'll get through it together. Besides, you said it yourself: we have each other, and we have our duty. That's enough. It has to be."

Her words, though simple, offered a small measure of solace. You knew the path ahead would be challenging and that things with the military strategist would never be the same again, but with her by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope.

"Trust me, you'll get over it in no time."

God, I sure hope so.

Meanwhile, Mingi did his best to keep it together for the rest of the event. After all, you had told him to enjoy it with his friends, so he did—or at least he tried his hardest. Feigning a huge grin, he returned to General Park and Royal Secretary Choi's side, casually mentioning that you had retired early. He didn’t want to burden them with his love troubles; the last thing he wanted was their pity. He didn't need to feel any worse than he already did.

Despite having braced himself for the possibility of hearing those words, the pain of your rejection cut deep. "There's nothing between us, and there never will be." Those words echoed in his mind like a broken record as he lay in bed that night, unable to find solace in sleep. He was caught between the urge to fight harder for you and the need to honour your wishes.

Yet, he couldn't shake the image of your face when he asked if you remembered him. The fleeting look of conflict troubled him deeply. Why did you seem so torn? Why did you hesitate? Could you have been lying? If so, why hide the truth? He needed answers. Whether or not you would ever be his, he needed to know them.

Mingi resolved to seek those answers, slowly and carefully. In the process, he hoped to soften your seemingly hardened heart, guarded by steel walls that showed cracks despite your efforts to conceal them. He might have been a fool most of the time, but his attentiveness had never been keener than now. All for you. Because he believed fate must have brought you back into his life for a reason.

"You good, hyung?" Junghoon asked, feeling his mentor shift on the bed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night.

The older man nodded despite the internal turmoil within him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go to sleep already, young man."

"I'm trying... if only you'd stop moving."

Heaving a sigh, Mingi turned to face his apprentice. "Hey, what do you think it means when a woman tells you to stop pursuing her but looks really sad while saying it?"

The younger man rolled his eyes. There goes my sleep, he thought as he pushed himself up into a seated position, legs folded and hands intertwined. "Alright, sit your dumbass up. Time for Love Lessons for Dummies 101."

"Are you sure this is going to work? She's not—" Mingi's words were cut off by his apprentice, who mocked him with air quotes. "'Not like other girls.' Yeah, yeah, I know. That's what every man says about his crush. Trust me, women are all the same. Nothing melts their hearts more than an attentive and caring man. Now go before she's already out for her lunch break."

Junghoon had finally convinced his mentor to see his dream girl after avoiding the royal medical hall for nearly a week, giving you the space you needed. But Mingi knew that to win your heart, he couldn’t stay away. He'd have to approach gently and slowly.

With a handmade lunchbox in hand, the military strategist's first mission was to show you he wasn’t bound by gender norms, relegating kitchen tasks only to women. He wanted to demonstrate what having a husband like him would be like. If you wished, he could drop by each day with lunch prepared just for you.

His heart pounded with anticipation when he arrived at the medical hall for the first time in what felt like forever. He had missed you like crazy, each day without seeing you dragging on like a year. As he stepped inside and approached the counter, confusion set in when you were nowhere in sight. Could you have gone out with the first batch of royal physicians for your lunch break? That was odd; you always preferred the second batch.

"Good day, Officer Song. Are you injured or feeling unwell?" one of your colleagues asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. Mingi blinked and cleared his throat. "N-no, I'm here for Royal Physician Ahn. Is she already out for lunch?"

Your colleague suppressed a knowing grin, pursing her lips before answering, "She's not. She hasn't been in for a few days now. She's been down with food poisoning ever since attending the royal banquet with you."

Mingi felt his heart sink.

He muttered a quick thanks and dashed out, his feet moving automatically towards the female physicians' quarters. Nothing else mattered; he needed to see you, to know you were okay, to apologise for not taking better care of you that night.

Meanwhile, you pressed your face into your pillow, curling into a ball and clutching the comforter around you as another stab of pain hit your stomach. The discomfort was unbearable, making it impossible to go to work today. Seeing your agony, the head of the royal physicians had allowed you a day or two to feel better before returning to the royal medical hall.

As the pain subsided and you slowly felt a wave of drowsiness enveloping you, an unusual rustle from outside alerted you. Someone was there. But who? Everyone else should be at work. Was it Subin coming to check on you? Your thoughts were interrupted when your breath hitched, realising a man's silhouette was standing by your room entrance through the paper walls.

What fool would dare come here, a place meant only for women? Not even eunuchs were allowed in, let alone a well-built man of his stature. Was it a prison escapee? Lord knows what he'd do if he found you alone. Before you could attempt to get up and go someplace safe, another sharp pain hit, and the wince you let out was inevitable. Unfortunately, the man heard you and immediately reached to pull the doors open.

As the door slid open, your heart raced, fear gripping you as you braced for the worst. But instead of a stranger, you saw Mingi's concerned face. His eyes widened in alarm as he rushed to your side.

"Physician Ahn, are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.

"O-Officer Song? What in the world are you doing here?" you managed to say between breaths, the pain still lingering.

"I heard you were sick. I had to make sure you were okay," he replied, his voice softening as he knelt beside your bed.

The concern in his eyes was genuine, and despite the awkwardness of the situation, a small part of you felt relieved. "You're not supposed to... you shouldn't be here," you whispered, the rules and propriety still at the forefront of your mind.

"I know, but I couldn't stay away," he said, gently placing a hand on your arm. "I'm here to make up for my mistake. I should have been more attentive. This is all my fault."

You frowned, pushing yourself up to a sitting position as the pain subsided again. "What do you mean by that? How is any of this your fault? This has nothing to do with you."

He sighed. "Nonsense. If only I’d been more attentive to what they served you at the banquet, you wouldn’t have been suffering from food poisoning this badly."

"F-food poisoning...? Who told you that?" you asked, already having a clue. He twiddled his fingers nervously. "One of your colleagues. I was at the medical hall earlier and you weren’t there. She told me you were sick, and I came here as fast as I could..."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you were exasperated at your friends’ mischievousness. They hadn’t let you live it down since learning you had gone to the royal banquet with the military strategist, though they didn’t know what had transpired between you two or how the night had ended. The teasing was one thing, but you didn’t think they’d actually go this far. But of course, they probably didn’t think this fool would actually come here himself instead of sending a court lady to check on you.

You sighed. "I don't have food poisoning… it's just that time of the month. You know, the women thing…" His eyes widened in horror, and his cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, muttering, "Gosh, why'd she lie about this?"

You pulled your comforter close as another cramp hit. "Listen, I'm not in the mood to talk right now. Besides, you really shouldn't be here. I appreciate you checking on me, but you should leave. We'd both be in huge trouble if someone saw you here."

He nodded quickly, gesturing to the bag he had brought with him. "Right, I-I'll leave immediately. These are for you, by the way. I made them myself. Please enjoy them when you're feeling hungry."

Usually, you would have melted at that, but you really needed him gone. "Yes, thank you."

As if the world had something against you, just as the military strategist neared the door, another familiar silhouette appeared at the entrance. "Are you feeling any better, my dear? I've come with some heat packs to soothe the cramps," the head of the royal physicians called out, her hands reaching for the door handle.

Mingi froze, and you panicked, all menstrual pain forgotten as you jumped out of bed and rushed towards him, exclaiming loudly, "I'm feeling much better, Head Physician Seo! Thank you for your concern. Would you give me a minute? I'm not properly dressed."

You sighed in relief when that worked like a charm as she removed her hand from the door handle and took a step back. "Oh, my apologies. Of course, let me know when you're ready."

Scanning the room in alarm, you hurried to the cabinet that usually held your mattress, pillows, and comforters when you weren't sleeping, now empty. "Get in here, quick!" you whispered urgently. He obeyed, moving as stealthily as he could to avoid making a sound and raising suspicion.

Oh god, can things get any worse today?

After shooting him a stern look and pressing your pointer finger against your lips to signal a firm 'be quiet,' you shut the cabinet doors and took a deep breath. Plastering on a huge smile, you opened the door for your superior, letting her in. She smiled warmly, handing you the heat packs she'd brought. "Is everything okay? I thought I heard someone in here earlier."

Your breath caught as you noticed Mingi's bag still by your bed. Quickly moving to conceal it with your hanbok, you feigned innocence. "Huh, really? That's weird. It's only me. I'm sure it's nothing."

She shrugged and nodded. "You're probably right. I guess all the lack of sleep must be getting to me. Well then, it’s good to see you doing better. I shall get back to work then."

You mustered a fake laugh. "That must be it, ma'am. Thank you so much for the heat packs. I really appreciate it."

She patted your cheeks softly. "Anything for my best physician. Hope to see you back at work tomorrow."

You nodded, waving goodbye as she left. As you shut the door, exhaustion overwhelmed you, and you sank to your knees. The cabinet doors creaked open as the tall man emerged, muttering, "Phew, that was close—"

As if jinxing it, your superior returned. "Oh yes, my dear!" she called through the door.

Rushing up to Mingi, you smacked a palm over his mouth to shut him up as you answered her, "Yes, ma'am?"

She chuckled. "I heard that General Officer Song of yours dropped by the medical hall earlier, seemingly with lunch prepared for you. Don't be so hard on him, hm? I know we’re not allowed to love, but he's a sweet guy. At least be a friend to him. We’re still allowed to have friends, you know? Please don’t deprive yourself of that right too."

You swallowed, meeting Mingi’s eyes as they softened at your pained expression. "I understand. Thank you, ma'am."

Finally, she left for good this time. Eyes locked with his, you pondered her words. Could you really be friends with this man? Just... friends? Perhaps that was all you could ever be.

In that moment of closeness, you became acutely aware of your position, your hand still covering his mouth, his hands gently supporting you on your back. The atmosphere crackled with tension until it was broken by the rumble of his stomach. Flustered, you withdrew, your heart racing.

What in the world just happened...?

With a nervous bite of your lip, you dared to break the silence. "You uhh... haven't eaten either, have you?"

He shook his head bashfully, his eyes reflecting a mix of embarrassment and longing. "No, I haven't."

Oh, to hell with it.

You gestured towards the lunch he had brought. "Join me then."

Things had obviously shifted between you since then, and it did not go unnoticed by those around you. General Officer Song started coming by the medical hall at least once a week, no longer pretending to have an injury but simply to share lunch with you.

As friends.

That was what you told your friends, colleagues and every other palace staff whenever they tried to tease you. Yes, friends. That was all there was to it. All you both were ever going to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Just friends. Good friends. That was all you would allow… all you were allowed, really.

But you were happy with it. You had to be. It wasn't something you had a say in.

This was your life.

Mingi's visits became an oddly comforting routine. Every week, he would show up with a handmade lunch, and you would sit together, talking and laughing. The bond between you grew stronger, and although you constantly reminded yourself that you were just friends, there was an undeniable warmth in your interactions.

One afternoon, after the military strategist had patiently waited for you to finish caring for a patient, the two of you shared lunch in a quiet corner of the medical hall. He looked at you with a soft, contemplative expression. "You know," he began, "the first time I saw you, I thought you were the most admirable woman to exist. I'm glad I wasn't wrong. You really are an angel sent by the heavens."

You felt a flutter in your chest but quickly suppressed it, grinning softly. "Am I really? You know I'm not the only female physician around. The others are just as admirable."

Yes, but they're not you.

He nodded, though his eyes held a depth of emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "I suppose you're right," he said gently.

Not wanting to dwell on the serious atmosphere, you playfully nudged him on the shoulder. "Of course I am. I'm always right. And I bet you were a complete crybaby the day we first met, wailing like a child as you received treatment."

He scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically and feigning offence. "I was not. I'll have you know I was the most courageous soldier on site that day."

Brave enough to ask you out.

"Sure you were," you mocked sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at him. Your heart warmed internally because he was right. You remembered how calm he was despite the pain he endured. But he could never know you remembered. Never. That would complicate things too much, and you didn't need that. Not now, not ever.

Things were perfect as they were.

Or were they?

Irked by your teasing, he swiftly reached out to snatch a piece of dumpling—your favourite—from your lunchbox and stuffed it into his mouth as revenge. You let out a surprised yelp, smacking him on the arm. "Wha—hey! That was my last piece! Give it back, Song Mingi!" Your laughter filled the space as you wrestled with him, his eyes disappearing into adorable slits as he hurriedly chewed on the dumpling, annoying you with it. He chortled, speaking through his mouth full, "Ha! That's what you get!"

The fun was abruptly cut short when the head of the royal physicians appeared at the doorway. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked, her tone light but curious.

You sputtered and shook your head, immediately pushing yourself off the tall man. "Absolutely not, ma'am. He was just about to leave. We're done eating," you said, glaring playfully at Mingi as he swallowed the last of your dumpling.

The military strategist bowed respectfully to the elderly woman, seizing the opportunity to escape your wrath. "I apologise for taking up so much of Royal Physician Ahn's time. I'll leave at once," he said.

She shook her head, smiling warmly. "Don't apologise. I'm not sure I've seen Physician Ahn this happy in a good while. Please stay for a bit more if you wish, Officer Song."

Both your cheeks grew warm at her words as Mingi scrambled to pack up his belongings and leave, clearly shy. "Thank you, ma'am, but I really shouldn't. Besides, I have training to attend as well."

With a final bow to you both, he was gone, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing from the sudden interruption and the unexpected compliment from your superior.

Head Physician Seo approached you, a knowing smile on her face. "You and General Officer Song seem really close. Are you sure there's nothing more going on?"

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "We're good friends. That's all."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, as long as you're happy. I'm glad you took my advice and allowed him in."

You nodded, reaffirming your own belief. "You were right, it's nice to have someone who genuinely understands and cares."

In the back of your mind, you couldn't ignore the ache of wanting something more, but you reminded yourself that this was your reality. And so, you continued to cherish the time spent with him, finding solace in the friendship that had blossomed between you.

As the weeks turned into months, the boundaries of your friendship were constantly tested. Every shared smile, every lingering glance, and every comforting touch made it harder to maintain the illusion. Deep down, you both knew what you had was special, even if you could never openly acknowledge it.

Despite the constraints, you found happiness in the moments you shared. Each lunch, each conversation, and each quiet moment of understanding reinforced the bond between you. The stolen glances when no one was looking, the way he would subtly take care of you, and the warmth that filled your heart when he was near—it all painted a picture of a love that couldn't be spoken.

In the silence of the night, when you lay awake thinking about him, you allowed yourself to dream of a different life. A life where societal expectations didn't dictate your choices, and you could be free to express your true feelings. But for now, those dreams remained just that—dreams.

You took comfort in the friendship that had become an integral part of your life. It was a bittersweet reality, but one you had come to accept. And in those precious moments you shared, you found a contentment that made the impossible feel almost within reach.

Meanwhile, Mingi found himself growing more hopeful with every step closer to you. Though it hurt to hear you remind everyone that what you shared was merely friendship, he was almost certain you returned his feelings. Yet, he didn’t want to make assumptions; he needed to hear it from you. He was prepared to wait a long time, even forever, as long as you continued to allow him to be near you. This closeness was already more than he had ever hoped for, and a part of him had accepted that this might be the way things were meant to be.

Being friends was better than nothing.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Junghoon smirked before letting out a whine as his mentor hit him on the back.

"Shut up, kid. What do you know about love anyway? Taking advice from you nearly got me and her in trouble," Mingi grumbled.

The apprentice rolled his eyes, rubbing his back. "Oh, please, don't act like it didn't help you get close to her. I dare you to say you didn’t enjoy having her pressed up against you that day, keeping your mouth shut with her hand, all alone in her room—"

Mingi slapped a hand over the younger man’s mouth, eyes wide and face burning with embarrassment. "If you don't shut your trap right now, I'll tell His Majesty you’d like to quit and join the eunuchs."

That was all it took to silence Junghoon.

Truthfully, the apprentice was right, being close to you had made Mingi greedy for your affections. He often wondered what it would be like to have you willingly run into his arms. But the military strategist knew that was probably as far as he would ever get. Friends were not meant to be any closer than that, and he had come to accept it. If only you would stop making things more difficult.

One day, a soldier was seriously injured during training due to faulty weapons, and the royal medical hall was notified. You appeared at the training grounds with Subin beside you not long after, slightly out of breath as your eyes searched hastily for something or… someone. When you didn’t find who you were looking for, you blurted out, "Where's Officer Song? Is he okay?"

The soldiers greeting you furrowed their brows in confusion. "Officer Song…? Yes, he's fine. It's not him who got injured. Did someone tell you that by mistake?"

You sputtered messily, flustered for giving yourself away, while your childhood friend suppressed her giggle beside you. "O-oh, no... I just... I assumed it was him since he gets injured nearly every week. Never mind that, please take us to the injured soldier."

"Yes, my lady. Come with me."

Quickly, you followed the man, eyes glued to his back, not wanting to catch any knowing glances thrown your way. Unbeknownst to you, Song Mingi was hidden by a stand and had heard everything, struggling to keep the smile off his face at your concern. Were you thinking about him just as much as he thought about you? Were you worried about him? Did you... feel the same?

He desperately wanted to hear it from you but dared not ask the questions, fearing the answers you'd give him—answers that he knew would never reflect your true feelings. He watched you tend to the injured soldier from a distance, the smile lingering on his face, feeling a warmth that hadn’t been there before. Though it stung to always be reminded that what you shared was nothing more than friendship, he clung to the moments when your actions betrayed your words, showing a deeper, unspoken bond.

For now, he would be content with this.

Until he couldn't.

He arrived at the medical hall the next day with lunchboxes in hand, ready to spend time with you as usual. Instead, he was met with the devastating news that you had been dispatched to a plague-ridden village to provide assistance. His heart fell, and his world crumbled.

"I don't understand. What do you mean she's gone, my King? She was just here yesterday."

"Forget her, Officer Song. I told you it's impossible to be with her," said the ruler, rubbing a hand on his temple. "She volunteered to go without hesitation. I think you have your answer loud and clear. And as much I hate to say this, we're not sure she will return from this trip. Most physicians going on such missions are like soldiers going to war; they risk their lives and could be gone for months or even years. You deserve someone who can stay by your side."

The King's words cut deep, but Mingi's mind was a whirlwind of worry and despair. The thought of you in danger, far away, made it hard for him to breathe. The idea of losing you, of not knowing if you were safe or if you would ever come back, was unbearable.

"Where is this village, Your Majesty?"

The elderly man sighed deeply, shaking his head. "What will it take for you to give up? You'll only end up in pain, as if you haven't already been in enough pain. She has denied all your attempts from the start. Why do you do this to yourself, hm?"

Officer Song clenched his fists, his voice trembling with emotion. "Because love isn't about possession. Love is unconditional. I don't care if she will never accept my love in this life; I will continue to be there for her, to protect and care for her as long as I am alive. I'll be damned if I let her face all that danger on her own. So, I'm asking again, Your Majesty, where exactly is this village?"

The desperation in his voice was palpable, the rawness of his love laid bare. He would do anything, go anywhere, to ensure your safety. For the military strategist, there was no greater purpose than being there for you, no matter the cost.

Meanwhile, you struggled to keep yourself together as you arrived at the terror-stricken village. The place had been overtaken by a sudden, rapidly spreading disease, claiming lives at a frightening pace. Violently woken in the middle of the night by Head Physician Seo, you joined the royal physicians gathered in the main hall to hear the grim news. Guri, the very village where you and Subin had lost everything, was now cursed with another wave of illness, intent on wiping out the population and destroying families again.

But you were stronger now.

You would rather die trying than let more innocent villagers endure what you did all those years ago. This time, you were capable of saving lives. Without a second thought, you and your friend volunteered to go. It wasn't until you were in the carriage that you remembered a certain Officer Song. Crestfallen, you realised that perhaps this was all for the best. Maybe, with your absence, he could finally move on and find someone with whom he could have a future, instead of being held back by you.

And you... you would be doing the very thing you had trained for all your life. There was no time to dwell on matters of the heart.

Forget him, lives are at stake.

As you arrived in Guri, the sight was both familiar and heartbreaking. The streets were eerily quiet, with only the occasional sound of distant weeping or the hollow coughs of the afflicted. You, Subin, and the rest of the royal physicians immediately set to work; assessing the situation and organising the sick villagers for treatment.

"Help my mother, please!"

"It hurts, make it stop!"

"I don't want to die yet... I'm scared."

Doing your best to calm the terrified villagers, your mind was a whirlwind of medical procedures and strategies to contain the spread. Every moment was a battle against time, a race to save as many lives as possible. But amidst the chaos, thoughts of Mingi lingered at the edge of your mind. His gummy smile, his stupidly cute laughter, the way his eyes lit up when he saw you—they all haunted you, a bittersweet reminder of what you had left behind.

Sometimes, it felt like those thoughts of him were the only thing keeping you going. Nearly a week had passed, and the situation had only slightly improved. With minimal sleep and just enough food to keep you alive, you worked tirelessly to tend to the sick. All the while, you wished you had a certain tall, handsome, and silly strategist to help lighten the constantly heavy atmosphere. At this point, you had lost count of the times you had imagined him by your side. The imagination could be so vivid, you were convinced you were hallucinating from the immense lack of rest.

"Need a hand, my lady?"

You froze, your actions of reaching for the top shelf of the makeshift clinic for some medicine halted at the familiar voice that had been haunting your well-being for the past week. Shit, were you hearing things now? Surely, it was the sleep deprivation acting up.

It can't be.

But then, you turned around, and there he was. General Officer Song, standing in the doorway, looking just as real and solid as ever. His eyes held a mix of concern and determination, and he was carrying a medical kit of his own.

"Mingi?" you whispered, almost afraid that speaking his name would shatter the illusion.

He stepped closer, a gentle smile on his face. "Yes, it's me. I'm here."

To his surprise, you were angry when you realised it was really him and not just a hallucination. "What… in the world are you doing here?" you questioned, your voice filled with frustration and disbelief.

His smile fell. "I came to help—"

You cut him off. "This isn't a joke, Song Mingi! This is serious. People are dying! You shouldn't be here just because you wish to keep pursuing me or anything stupid!"

His expression hardened with determination. "That's exactly why I'm here—because I can't lose you!"

You were left speechless, grappling with the rush of emotions at his sudden presence as well as his words. You felt conflicted, overwhelmed by the happiness that he was really here in the flesh, anger at his recklessness, fear for his survival, and frustration because you wanted so badly to run to him but knew you could not.

After what felt like an eternity, you sighed and tossed him a handkerchief. "Cover your nose and mouth with this at all times. Since you're here, make yourself useful. Get that bag of herbs and come with me. We have no time to waste."

As he opened his mouth to speak, you shot him a warning glare. "Save your breath. If you do not intend to work, please leave."

With a firm nod, he complied, grabbing the bag of herbs and following you into the chaos. Despite the tension, having him there added a strange sense of comfort and determination, and together, you continued to fight the disease that had plagued Guri.

The entire day passed by in a blur, just like the previous ones. There was not a moment of respite as you rushed around, with Mingi following you obediently, doing as he was told without question. Subin and your other colleagues raised surprised brows at his presence, but the situation left no room for teasing or questions.

At the end of the day, even when things had calmed down a little and most villagers were asleep, your work was far from done. You sat by the bed of a small child who was badly affected by the disease, your tired hands rinsing and wringing a towel repeatedly, wiping the sweat from his tiny head over and over to ensure his fever didn’t worsen. Mingi remained by your side, watching you care for the child.

Sensing your lethargic movements, he gently offered, "Here, let me do it." He reached out for the cloth, and you gave in, handing it to him. He took your spot, and you moved aside to make space for him on the bed, finally having the opportunity to take a good look at him since his arrival.

His face was etched with concern and determination, his usual playful demeanour replaced by a steadfast resolve. He worked with a quiet intensity, carefully tending to the child as if his life depended on it. The sight filled you with a mixture of emotions—gratitude, admiration, and a touch of sorrow.

"You shouldn't have come," you whispered, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "But... thank you."

He glanced at you, his eyes softening. "I had to. I couldn’t just stay behind knowing you were here, facing this alone."

You sighed, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I'm sorry for the harsh words I said. I was just... worried about you. I still am."

"And I was worried about you," he replied, his voice firm yet gentle. "We’re in this together now. We'll get through it."

Shaking your head, you squeezed your eyes shut. "It's not going to be easy. You don't understand… this, Mingi. This village was once my home. I was born here, and for the first few years of my life, I had a family. Until a plague, one similar to this one, broke out, taking my parents and siblings, leaving me with nothing," you explained, your voice breaking as you finally revealed your past.

He sat, shell-shocked, learning about your tragic history for the first time. He hadn’t known you had endured such a tough life, and it only strengthened his affection and admiration for you. You were even stronger than he had perceived.

"And that's why I was so afraid of seeing you here," you continued, your voice trembling. "Because I… I can't lose you too."

His breath hitched at your words, a moment of silence enveloping the room before he dared to cover your hand gently with his bigger one, whispering a soft, "Really?"

Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and nodded, avoiding his eyes. "Yes, because you're a good friend to me."

He chuckled, nodding in defeat. "Right, of course." He knew better than to expect anything more by now. He was just glad you no longer pushed him away.

That was all that mattered.

The following days settled into the same gruelling routine, but your shoulders undeniably felt lighter with Mingi's presence. His unwavering support and the arrival of the physicians who had raised you and Subin provided much-needed relief. Their presence brought a sense of comfort and familiarity.

On a slower day, the military strategist sat with one of the senior physicians, assisting with brewing medicine. Catching the tall man's eyes glued to your busy figure in the next room, Kyungsoo, who had been like an older brother to you, smiled and remarked, "Quite the workaholic, isn't she? Nothing can stop her from working. She's been that way for as long as we can all remember."

"She really is," Officer Song replied.

Through your mentors, he learned more about your childhood years. Kyungsoo shared stories of how hard you had worked and studied to get where you were, all to repay them for taking you in. Mingi now saw the depth of your dedication and the sacrifices you had made to become the renowned royal physician you are today.

As he watched you tirelessly care for the villagers, a realisation struck him. It might be selfish to want to tie you down in marriage just because he thought he loved you. If he truly loved you, he should let you do what you loved. You had fought so hard to achieve your dreams; how could he possibly take that away from you?

His heart ached as he finally understood the wisdom in His Majesty's words. Maybe you really were not meant to be, not in this life. Perhaps in the next, he thought to himself, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and sorrow.

For now, he would support you in the best way he could—by standing by your side, helping you save lives, and cherishing the moments you shared. Because that, he realised, was also a form of love.

You've won, my King. I yield.

You had somehow felt the distance Mingi seemed to be putting between you, no matter how minuscule. You were hyper-aware of him, always had been, so this change, despite how small and unnoticed by the rest, bothered you more than you cared to admit. Was he growing tired of this? Of you? Perhaps he was realising how impossible it was to reach you and was giving up.

And who could blame him, really?

He deserved to be free; free to love another, to love someone who could give him so much more, all the things you never could.

"Hey, everything okay?" Subin asked, noting how you had nearly disposed of a new bandage instead of a used one.

You snapped out of your thoughts, apologising for the mistake as you rubbed your eyes. "Oh, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

She sighed, squeezing your shoulder. "It's Officer Song, isn't it?"

You stilled. "Huh? I-I don't know what you're talking about—"

She rolled her eyes, cutting you off. "Save it, unnie. I'm tired of hiding it from you. He's already received permission from His Majesty to pursue you. That's why he's been so bold in his attempts. If you feel the same way about him, then please, for the love of god, stop putting yourself and him through this nonsense any longer."

Your heart pounded as her words sank in. "Permission from His Majesty?" you echoed, disbelief and confusion in your voice.

She nodded firmly. "Yes, my dear friend. He's been allowed to court you on one condition—only if you willingly agree to it. That’s why he’s here, risking his life. He’s doing it all for you. If you care about him even a fraction of how much he cares about you, you need to let him know. This back-and-forth is tearing both of you apart."

You swallowed hard, grappling with the revelation. It felt as if a door had opened, one you had convinced yourself was forever locked.

"But Subin-ah... what if he realises I'm not worth the effort?" you whispered, voicing your deepest fear.

Her eyes softened. "That's not for you to decide. Let him make his own choices. If he’s here, fighting for you, it means you are worth everything to him. Don’t push him away because of your own insecurities. Give him—give yourself—a chance."

Before you could process her words, chaos erupted as sudden screams filled the air, panicked villagers running in all directions. You rushed outside to see what was happening, your heart pounding in your chest. Amid the commotion, you finally caught on to someone yelling, "Fire! Fire! There's a fire in the kitchen!"

Gasping, you spotted billowing black smoke rising from a hut at the back, where the kitchen was situated. Turning to Subin with wide eyes, you began, "I-isn't that where—"

She nodded before you could finish, confirming your fears. "Officer Song and Kyungsoo oppa were brewing medicine!"

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards the kitchen, your mind racing. The heat and smoke intensified with each step closer. Villagers and fellow physicians frantically attempted to extinguish the flames with buckets of water, but the fire raged on.

"Kyungsoo oppa! Mingi-yah!" you shouted, your voice trembling with fear and urgency.

Amid the thick smoke, Kyungsoo stumbled out alone, coughing violently. You rushed to him, desperation gripping your heart. "O-oppa, where is he? Where's Song Mingi?!"

Pointing towards the kitchen, nearly engulfed in flames, the senior physician gasped, "That fool's still in there. He insists on saving the medicine. We need to get him out, now!"

Your heart pounded with dread. "I'll go!" But Kyungsoo grabbed your arm, panic in his eyes. "No, it's too dangerous—"

Ignoring his warning, you darted inside.

Your heart plummeted when you spotted Mingi foolishly attempting to salvage the pot of medicine. "Stop, you idiot! Leave it!" He froze at the sound of your voice, turning to see you. "What are you doing here? Get out, the place is falling apart!"

Rushing up to him, you desperately tugged on his arm. "Not without you!" Yielding to your urgency, he abandoned the medicine and turned to leave with you. But dread washed over him as he noticed the fragile beam above you, threatening to collapse at any moment. Time seemed to slow as he pushed you towards the exit just in time for the debris to crash down in front of him, trapping him inside.

Your cries echoed as you saw him trapped. "No!" He managed a weak smile, feeling the smoke filling his lungs. "I'm sorry, my lady." Tears streamed down your face as you screamed for help, men rushing to save him. Kyungsoo and Subin restrained you, their grip firm as you thrashed against their hold.

"It's okay, he'll be okay," they repeated, their assurances failing to ease the turmoil in your heart. When they finally emerged, carrying his unconscious body, relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced by a profound sense of guilt and regret.

God, you were such a fool. How could you have been so blind to his importance in your life? Why did you take him for granted, making him wait for so long?

"Wake up, Song Mingi! Please, listen to me," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "I remembered everything, okay? I never forgot about you, not for a single moment. I'm sorry for lying, for pushing you away. But I accept it now—I want to be with you. Please... don't leave me."

Amidst your sobs against his chest, you halted as you felt his hand tenderly stroking your head. Lifting your gaze to meet his, you found him smiling weakly down at you.

"Wow, I never thought I'd hear those words," he murmured softly.

"So, that's your secret, huh? Faking your own death to get the girl?" Junghoon quipped, wearing a mischievous grin. Mingi let out an exasperated sigh and playfully smacked the younger man on the back of the head. "Faked my death? I nearly died," he retorted.

Junghoon raised a sceptical brow. "Yes, but did you die though?"

"I swear to god, you rascal—" Mingi's fist hovered in the air threateningly until you appeared, hands on your hips.

"Excuse me, no violence is permitted in the medical hall. If you two want to settle this, take it to the training grounds," you scolded.

The military strategist turned to you with a pout, attempting to play innocent. "But, my angel, I brought you lunch."

You rolled your eyes. "Alright. What's Junghoonie doing here then?"

The apprentice eagerly showed you his sprained ankle. "I actually got hurt, noona. Unlike someone, I don't fake my injuries."

Before Mingi could retaliate, you quickly summoned a colleague to tend to Junghoon, then dragged your idiot away, much to his chagrin. "That's enough, you baby."

"Yes, I'm your baby."

A month had passed since the plague in the village was eradicated. It was after the fire, that you managed to find a quiet moment with Mingi and poured out your heart to him. To your surprise, he didn't immediately respond with joy.

"Are you sure this is what you truly want?" he had asked, his expression serious. "Because I could never ask you to choose me over your career if it's more important to you."

His words struck a chord deep within you, revealing the depth of his love and understanding. He wasn't seeking to possess you but to ensure your happiness, even if it meant letting you go.

In that moment, you realised that this man was worth loving, worth everything. He had waited patiently for years, only to ask you that question when he finally had you.

In response, you didn't need to speak. Your answer was a simple and direct kiss to his lips, conveying all your love, gratitude, and certainty in that one tender moment.

Upon your return from Guri, you promptly sought an audience with His Majesty. There, you expressed your desire to be with Mingi. Needless to say, the soft-hearted King who had been secretly rooting for you both did not take too long to agree.

Granting you the freedom to be courted by the military strategist, the King also bestowed his blessing for marriage, should you both deem it the right path. With a sense of relief, you exchanged grateful glances with your lover. It marked the beginning of a new chapter, brimming with hope and love, as you eagerly anticipated embarking on this journey together.

"I still can't believe you're meant to be the coolest and most renowned military strategist in all of Joseon. If only the people knew what an adorable little princess you could be," you chuckled, playfully feeding Mingi a spoonful of rice as he attempted to fashion you a new handkerchief, boasting about his newfound skills learned from his dressmaker friend.

"Oh wow, is that really how you thank your devoted future husband, who's putting all this effort into making something special for you?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with affection as he reached for another piece of cloth, determined to create something perfect for you.

You snickered mischievously. "Alright, princess, how about this? You handle the cooking and cleaning, and I'll be the queen of the castle, bringing home the gold. Deal?"

He stared at you, unamused. Leaning in, you stole a kiss from his lips, and in that moment, his resistance melted away. "Ugh fine, I suppose that doesn't sound too bad," he admitted with a playful sigh.

Anything for you, my angel.

You couldn't contain your laughter at his surrender, eagerly returning his affection as he leaned in for another kiss.

Sometimes, it's astonishing how, despite years of separation, no matter how distant you've become or how impossible it seemed to reunite, you always find each other again. It's as if your paths were meant to intersect once more, as though guided by the stars.

You were destined to find each other.

Lord, I did not plan for this to be so long. I'm so sorry this part took like a thousand years and I sincerely hope it was decent! I've managed to include all the details I came up with but am somehow not too happy with the delivery (then again, when am I not unsatisfied with my own work lmfao).

More importantly, I cannot believe I now have 2k followers😭 thank you all so much! I cannot wait to finish Jongho and Yeosang's spinoffs and then work on more new stuff!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[yurozo]

slow dancing in a burning room (leon kennedy one-shot)

synopsis: leon's new to this, new to relationships, new to expecting someone at home waiting for him. after a mission, he's determined to have a moment of peace with you. (general audiences)

a/n: this is purely self-indulgent. i just want to wrap leon in a big blanket and give him a smooch on the head.

in retrospect, a normal life for him was always out of the question. the moment he decided to drown in his own sorrows the night before the incident, as he's so aptly named it, that was it. there was no more backing out for him-- forced to live and relive the same routine over and over until his heart rattled in his chest. every moment in the firefight blurs at the edges, stretched and stringed together in a half-hearted attempt at putting himself back together again, but repairing things was never his forte. not his modus operandi, as it were.

in this war, there's no better way to reconcile than a couple quick swigs until his throat burned.

all this considered, it made the fact that it only took you two years to make leon back into a mostly functioning human being all the more impressive. you had come into his life like a tidal wave—  sweeping him up in your storm and laying him gently on the shore, fixed-up and patched together.

again, mostly.

after three days of trucking through another monster-infested city, leon stepped into the threshold of your shared home with what felt like a death rattle in his chest. he showered after the helicopter ride, had all of his mission gear tucked away at dso headquarters, and for all intents and purposes should feel normal again. but it's only after seeing you, sipping on a glass of water in the dim light of the kitchen that makes the ache in his heart finally quell.

a slow thump this time, rather than a crackling, wet noise.

"can't sleep?" leon chooses to break the silence first, leaning his hip against the opposite counter. you jolt a little, leon always had the quietest walk known to man, but shake your head in response anyway. of course, leaving the not until you're home again left unsaid. he knew you worried. you knew that he knew you worried. it was written in your blood, just as protecting was in his.

"everything went okay?" you ask, turning around to appraise him. that was your routine every time he came home, inspect leon like a bug under a microscope and ever so carefully stitch the parts back on. he looks clean, and save for a few noticeable scrapes and overgrown stubble, he's in considerably better shape than he normally is.

he hums affirmatively in response. "better than most."

"we should sleep." you try and tug him towards the bedroom but he quickly stops you, instead wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

"stay," he mumbles against your skin, lips just barely grazing it in a barely-there kiss. "just for a bit."

a soft sigh leaves you, chest heaving against his. in lieu of an answer, you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling in the hair long overdue for a trim.

it's then that leon has an, admittedly, stupid idea. one that sowed when he was forced to watch some terrible romance movie with you, and only blossomed the longer that he was away. his arm moves awkwardly between you until his fingers fumble for the phone in his back pocket, holding it between you as he scrolls for something with a sly grin only reserved for you.

a song you don't recognize starts playing, and leon places the phone on the kitchen counter with a questioning glance in your direction.

you respond in turn with a raised brow. "i didn't know you danced."

"i don't," he chuckles, pointedly not saying that he might only be willing to do it for you. in truth, he's willing to indulge in a very long list of stupid things to make you happy.

he hesitates for a moment before the tips of his fingers gently graze your hips, tugging you forwards. in a somewhat reluctant, but no less sincere way, he continues, "but i've been known to make exceptions."

you step forward at his insistence, letting leon tug you by the hip. a soft smile can't be helped at the knock of his temple against yours. "you're not going to step on my toes, are you?"

"don't get too excited," he grumbles, hands already clutching at your waist while trying to still keep a respectable distance from your body. he's tired enough as it is, and he's not trying to start something later than he can't finish, as tempting as it may be. with his guidance you both start swaying to the melody, a somewhat awkward attempt to emulate every romantic cliche. "i'm probably going to be terrible."

he is. not that you would say that to his face.

leon's stiff, uncoordinated in a way that could not be more dissimilar to graceful way he moves in combat. you've seen him fight plenty of times, seen how every attack and dodge feels like a choreographed routine, and this could not be more different than that leon. his steps are jerky, his hands keep shifting awkwardly against the flat expanse of your back, and he can't seem to hold eye contact with you for more than a few seconds in lieu of making sure his feet are moving correctly.

it's endearing, in an adorable, hopelessly shy sort of way. so completely out of his element, and he knows it.

the longer the dance goes on, the more apparent it becomes just how aware leon is of himself. despite your best efforts at trying to guide him along the kitchen floor, leon almost seems to be self-sabotaging. every time you make a move to ease the tension in his shoulders with a gentle push on his chest or a soft caress with your thumb, his feet stumble into yours.

"relax," you tell him, only succeeds in giving him the inexplicable urge to throw himself out the nearest window.

"i am relaxed," he lies through his teeth.

"stop thinking, then." you try again, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

"i can't."

you've known leon too long to miss what that means. almost every time he gets back from a mission, it's like getting the empty husk of your boyfriend haunting the corridors until he can get himself back to routine. at its worst, it takes a few meals and gentle caresses for him to even look at you in the eyes. like a dog with its ears flat and a ripped up shoe in its mouth.

"as romantic as this is," you smile, trailing your hand up his neck until it lands at home on his cheek. the gesture is sweet, truly. but leon already looks like he's falling apart, and this time it's time for you to protect. "maybe we really should get some sleep."

the song comes to an end then, the last final notes trickling through the air before surrendering to a complete, all-encompassing silence. leon only gives you a slow nod, before following your figure to the bedroom. easy, quiet as a lamb.

finally, there's no more burning. all that's left is the quiet.

[kpop---scenarios]

Take Me Home

Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader

Warning: Jealousy, Smutty smut. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I forgot I had some of this written...so here you go lol

“Y/N…Y/N.” You hear, your body being shaken. You open one eye, seeing a man you didn't want to see. Your husband's bodyguard and the only person he truly trusted.

“What?” You groan, looking over at the clock. Shit. 6pm, your afternoon power nap had gone on a lot longer than you expected it too.

“Your presence has been requested tonight.” San says, holding up a dress for you.

“By who?” You ask, sitting up, rubbing your eyes.

“Your husband.” He says.

“My husband? My husband, who I haven't seen in the last few weeks since we've been married, that husband?” You ask.

San nods his head, while you stretch out your still sleepy body. “Where?”

“Club K.” He tells you.

“Is there anything specific happening tonight?” You ask, crawling out of your bed, the one you were supposed to share with your husband but you'd been sleeping in it alone.

“There's a deal. He needs you to get ready and meet him there.” San says, laying the dress down on the bed before exiting the room.

You hadn't even heard two words from Mingi since he'd been gone but yet he was able to just demand you show up somewhere? That's really fair. You would go, because you were a good wife, but you weren't going to be happy about it. It had been instilled in you when you grew up that what your husband asks of you, you do so without hesitation, and that's what you would do.

You'd fallen for Mingi over the short time your parents had you meet and get to know each other before you got married. And you knew he felt the same too, but unfortunately for you, he let his work take over his life, but part of you had expected to be a little more involved with him after the wedding. Maybe that would come, in time. You hoped but you weren't expecting much.

Over the next few hours, you took your time doing your makeup and your hair, until San began aggressively knocking on your bedroom door, trying to rush you.

“I'll be out in a minute. Just getting dressed.” you yell as you slip on the long black halter dress San had brought in for you earlier. It fits you perfectly, hugging the curves of your body just right, the long slit showing off your legs. You smile to yourself, slipping on your heels, feeling extra sexy tonight. You grab your bag, pulling open the door where San waited for you.

“Let's go.” You tell him, making your way to the staircase. San follows closely behind you, he was the best of the best and the only one your husband trusted to keep an eye on you when he was away.

“Just go in the front. Yunho is working at the door. He knows you're coming. I'm gonna park the car and I'll meet you inside.” San says, pulling up to the club. You get out of the car, adjusting your dress before you wave to Yunho, who opens the rope for you to pass and make your way inside, leaving the line of groaning people behind you. As you walk inside, you don't see your husband anywhere, so instead of trying to find him, you make your way to the bar, getting a few shots before you begin your hunt.

“Hey.” You hear from behind you. You turn to look, hoping to see someone you knew but it wasn't. “You're gorgeous.” The man smiles.

“I know. Thanks.” You say, turning around, walking past him to continue the hunt for your husband, but when you spot him, he's not alone. He's surrounded by a few men that you know, some that you don't and a beautiful woman, with her hand resting on his bicep.

If that's how he wanted to play things, you were more than capable of doing the same.

You headed back to the bar, ordering a few more shots, taking them as you glared at Mingi and the woman. This isn't something that was done, especially in public. You could feel your buzz set in almost immediately after the fifth shot. You keep your eyes on them as you make your way to the dance floor, feeling every beat of the song that was playing, rubbing your hands all over your body as you sway your hips. You watch as one of Mingi's men points you out, just as someone slides a pair of hands around your waist, holding you closely. You watch as Mingi’s smile fades from his face, anger quickly replacing it. He pulls his moves away from the group, yanking his arm from the woman, who stumbles slightly but the sudden movement. You turn around, seeing the man from earlier dancing behind you. “Get off me.” You scoff, pushing him away.

“I just wanted to dance.” The man laughs, trying to go back to the same position.

“So did I, alone.” You say, rolling your eyes. Before the man can answer, Mingi slips past you, grabbing the man by his collar.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Why the fuck are you touching my fucking wife?” Mingi spits, tossing the man to the floor. Minhi gets on top of the man, smashing him in the face with his fist, over and over again.

“Fuck, Mingi!” You yell. He stops, turning to look at you, anger still spread across his face. You roll your eyes, storming off the dance floor, heading towards the bathroom. You open the door to the ladies room, highly loudly as you lean against the sink. You look at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your makeup before you move back to grab the door. Before you can, the door is pushed in, Mingi steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“Where do you get off letting other men touch you?” He asks, cocking his head to the side as he begins to roll up his sleeves.

“Me?” You scoff. “Where do you get off letting other women touch you?” You ask.

“That wasn't…” he begins. You put your hand up, moving past him, to leave the bathroom but he grabs you, pinning you against the door.

“You don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you.” He whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He pulls himself back slightly, staring you in the eyes. Your eyes dart from his down to his plump lips before back up. Mingi pins you against the door as his lips crash to yours. He pushes his body against yours as he slides his tongue into your mouth, the kiss becoming needy and passionate. Mingi's hands roam your body. You move your hand to his chest, feeling his hard muscles beneath his shirt, before moving your hand down over his stomach, feeling the rigidness of his abs. You move your hand lower, grazing your palm over the bulge in his crotch, making him moan into your mouth.

Mingi pulls himself away from you. "Open." He demands. You open your mouth, watching him as he places two fingers in your mouth. You close your mouth around his fingers, sucking them hard. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, turns you around,lifts your skirt up and moves your panties to the side. He takes his two fingers pushing them inside of you, making you moan.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, turning you around to lift up your dress, and moving your panties to the side. He takes his two wet fingers between your pussy lips, pushing them deep inside of you, making you cry out.

"Shit." You cry.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times before pulling them out, unbuttoning his pants, letting his cock spring free before lubing his cock with your juices. Mingi moves you to the counter, harshly bending you over. He lines his cock up with your opening, ramming himself into you.

You clench your teeth together as your pussy stretches out to fit his large cock. "Fuck." He grits, his hands holding onto your hips and he starts harshly thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace. You can feel your pussy juices seeping from inside you every time he pulls himself out just enough, before slamming back into you. Mingi moves his hand from your hips wrapping his arm around your neck, pulling you into his chest.

“So fucking tight.” He groans, squeezing his arm around your neck tightly as he pushes his cock into you, even harder. His thrusts are fast and hard, your eyes roll back into your head with each thrust.

"Oh.. my.. god." You stutter, his arm squeezing tighter. His other hand reaches down between your legs, using two fingers to rub your clit quickly. "Shit. Fuck I'm going to cum." You cry out. His fingers rubbed quicker, moving his other hand up to your mouth, shoving his fingers into your mouth as he continued to rub your clit with his other hand. You suck on his fingers harder, your orgasm hitting seconds later, your body shaking as you work through your high, Mingi still pounding your pussy.

Mingi takes his hand from your mouth and away from your clit, bending you back over the sink, his fingertips digging into your hips as he works on his own orgasm.

“Cum in my pussy… please baby.” You pant.

Mingi grunts as his own orgasm hits, his legs shake as he shoots his load inside you. "Fuck." He groans, his cock throbbing, his thrusts slowing down as he milks himself, filling you up.

Mingi breathes as he pulls his cock out of you, tucking himself back into his pants before grabbing some tissue to clean you up.

“Thank you.” You murmur, your legs still shaking. Mingi laughs, helping you adjust your dress before throwing you over his shoulder.

“Let's get you home and in bed. You're not gonna be able to walk after round two.” He smirks.

“You think you're getting a second round?” You giggle. Mingi slaps your ass as he walks out of the bathroom with you.

“I'm getting a second, third and fourth round.” He murmurs. “San, cancel the meeting. I've got plans with my wife.” He shouts, walking out of the club with you draped over his shoulder.

“That's right baby, take me home.”

[cobraaah]

Pairing• [Nauseaxe_404 ♡ Reader]

A/N• This took way longer than I wanted. Hopefully, it's not too long for you guys. It's not the best since I haven't written anything, let alone smut in a long time. Also not proofread. . Way too long. Also I dunno how to do warnings so be prepared I guess.

Warnings• Smut 18+, intentional injury, manipulation, slight blood?, axe usage ( not hurting reader), P in V, cunnilingus

Word count• 8k

Superstar

Desperate. Desperate for money of course! Recently you've been low on money, having bad impulsive buying habits on randome junk you didn't need. "A way to gain fast money!" Popped up on your laptop screen. Scrolling on suspicious and unsecured websites had its downsides. A grumbled sigh left you as you tried to click the ad off your screen. It didn't leave, it was like some sort of weird virus. . or something like that, you wernt the smartest tool in the shed when it came to computers. Your curiosity came over you, you did need some quick cash. Your morals went out the window, discarding the fact that you could get so many viruses, maybe even kidnapped! Your finger hovered hesitantly over the pad on your laptop. Deciding to get it over with quick, you click, closing your eyes for some reason, expecting a million more pop ups to show up, maybe a random guy breaking into your home to take you away. . but no. Your E-Mail opened up instead. Your eyes squint at the screen reading the new E-Mail that was sent to you. To you, it was all non important, besides a few key details, they read; "simple and does not require any particular skills or talents." , "50,000 dollars cash in total. Half will be sent to you in a few days, the other half will be at the job site." You paused for a second, re-reading the last part. Your eyes widen as your mouth gaped with a surprised grin. "Fifty K?!" You scanned the email over again, trying to convince yourself this isn't real, fortunately, it was. Deciding to actually read the email now the description talked about having to be a mediator, having to remove some tendents from a hotel of sorts. Seeing as they said it's simple and you don't need any special skills, this seemed as a easy way for you to earn some money. Red flags should've been popping up in your head but your lust and desperation for money took over. Quickly, you typed a E-Mail back accepting the offer, clicking send you sat back with a sigh. Now all you had to do was wait for half the money to be sent to you and-. "Wait a second.." You mumbled to yourself. With another quick re reading of the E-Mail they did say they were going to send half the money. . but how? "I never gave them my address or like. . anything?" With a sigh, you closed your laptop assuming that these ominous people from this sketchy ad had all your information already from your relentless visits to sketchy websites doing god knows what on them.

A few days have gone by since you've sent that e-mail accepting the suspicious job offer that you didn't even know was real to be honest. Currently looking up at the ceiling contemplating everything you've done at this point, we're you really that gullible? Thinking that someone would actually give you a-. . A loud crashing noise can be heard outside your room, heavy footsteps can be heard getting more faint until nothing. Frozen through the whole ordeal, you sit up after just laying there for who knows how long. Your eyes dart over to your door completely unsure about this whole thing, did someone really just break into your house? What if they were still inside?! A shiver runs through your body, goosebumps form on your arms at the thought. Getting up, you shuffle your way to your door cautiously incase the intruder was still there. With a creak of the door, your eyes dart everywhere not noticing anything out of place. Walking out of the hallway you notice a suitcase placed infront of your front door. "What the fuck.." Eyes squinting suspiciously at the case infront of you. Looking behind your shoulder before you crouch down and open the suitcase up.

Stacked upon stacks of hundred dollar bills are loaded in the case. Your mouth open slighty in disbelief at the sight, was this the twenty-five thousand?? Who ever your client is, they know where you live. Too overwhelmed by the amount of cash infront of you and the thought of some random from the internet knowing where you live, AND them actively breaking into your house, you shut the case. Staring surprised at it, you pick it up and walk back into your room carefully setting the briefcase next to your dresser. You get settled back into your bed opening your laptop having it rest on your lap. Just before opening up the web browser a pop up flashes on your screen, it has some address with the text underneath it reading "Arrive by 6 AM this monday, no backing out now." Oh. . oh. A small frown forms on your face at how threatening that last part was. Weighing the option of dipping with the twenty-five thousand dollars or suffer the consequences your client would serve to you if you didn't listen. . . you took the ladder. You take a screenshot of the address, saving it to your laptop for later. The pop up disappears a few moments later leaving you to the browser.

Scrolling on Dumblr, looking through random blogs, reading fanfics, the usual. Just as your finishing reading a blog the notification inbox pings. . . and pings repeatedly. "Jesus christ.." You mumbled under your breath. 'Swear to god, if this is the same guy-' Tapping on the inbox button you're welcomed by spammed comments by this guy named Nauseaxe_808. Now you would've been fine by this if it wasn't the same guy you've blocked hundreds of times for, number one being a creep, leaving obsessive comments. . and that's it. This guy just creeps you the hell out, everytime you block him he comes back with a new account with the same name but just different numbers added at the end, it started as Nauseaxe_404 to Nauseaxe_808.

At this point you've thought of just deleting your account since no one interacts with your blogs besides this weirdo. BUT thinking that if you did delete your account this sicko would win in his sick game. Of course at some point you started to feel bad for the guy, he seemed like a good person at some points when he wasn't leaving comments like, "I know where you live Superstar!", "Please notice me, I'm your BIGGEST fan!" Just super obsessive stuff. Did it make you feel wanted. . . yes. Should it? no. Are you delusional? maybe. Finger grazing over the mouse pad on the laptop, with a click on this guys profile and another click on the block button a sense of relief washes over you, but so does some regret creep up on you. All this guy wants is your attention and you keep on blocking him, maybe you should respond to him once. . . just once so you don't feel guilty about ignoring this guy, you'll just wait until the next time he makes a new account to respond with a simple 'Thanks.' and maybe he'll leave you alone, maybe just one response will make him stop. Is that a smart move to make against this online stalker? Not really, but common sense wasn't really that common to you anyways. You close the laptop with a sigh deciding today was eventful enough for you, too overwhelming in fact. Setting the laptop on the floor you get settled in your bed, deciding to get some sleep. Sleep quickly takes over, not realizing how exhausted you were. . .

Monday comes quicker than expected, unfortunately. Having to wake up way earlier than expected to go to this random ass location in the middle or the woods. Great! Sarcasticly you think to yourself as you follow the GPS on your phone, a small scowl appears on your face, rethinking your decisions. You dressed somewhat formal for this job, after all they are paying you fifty thousand dollars to be a mediator so you better belive it you're not gonna look homeless today. But having to wake up at five in the morning so you could make it on time didn't motive you that much to put that much effort in yourself. You did the basic for yourself and hoped that was good enough for this client of yours. The soft growl of your stomach interrupts your thoughts. You completely forgot to eat something before leaving due to being so nervous for this ominous, potentially dangerous job. Butterflies twisted your stomach like parasites as the destination neared closer, you felt like you were gonna throw up. You power through it though and turn on some music to calm your nerves and get your mind soothed. The sky still shone with the bright moon still out, the sun still sleeping. . . just like what you should be doing right now. You shake your head dismissing any negative thoughts about this job, you were gonna do fine. . right..? A soft groan leaves you as your mind keeps wondering and complaining about how stupid and unsafe this was for you to be doing.

Pushing away those thoughts, the cars headlights shine on a old looking hotel of sorts. Parking the car nearby you step out, the cold very early morning air hiting your skin almost like a warning, making the nerves on your body be on high alert once more. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you walk twords the hotel. Stepping on the wooden front steps, you're greeted with a briefcase and a walkie talkie placed near the front door. Bending down you open up the briefcase, marveling at how much money there's in it. . just like last time. Abruptly the walkie next to it chimes in, "Thank you for accepting this job offer! Now that you've accepted the full amount of cash, you can now begin the job." the walkie buzzes off as the guy stops talking. You're exciment was short lived as you realized you did have a job to do afterall, debts to pay, things to buy, and of course bills. You stand up with a stretch grabbing the radio and the briefcase. You put the case in the back of your car and walk back to the hotel, you feel unease, your body telling you this isn't a good idea, red flags should've be popping up in your head. But you're clouded with your need for money you trudge on and open up the front door, a loud creak resonates through the deathly quiet, empty lobby. As soon as you step inside the door quickly slams behind you leaving you in the dark for a quick second before the dim lights turn on. Two doors on either side of you and one big door in the middle presumably leading to the rest of the hotel. Each door has a different colour red, blue, yellow and finally purple.

The walkie talkie comes back to life, "Congratulations for making it this far, in all honestly youve made it farther than three quarters of our business partners from before. You seem reliable and more. . .entertaining. .," the voice goes quiet before buzzing back to life, "Anyways! Welcome to my hotel, just a small caution for your job today as a mediator, you'll be working with. .with monsters? Not really that important, anyways start with the red door!" The walkie quickly shuts off without anymore information about the 'monsters'. "W. . Wait?!" Your finger pressed the button on the side of the walkie, "What do you mean 'monsters'?" You question wide eyed into the walkie. . . you recive no response after a minute. You silently curse to yourself as you slowly approch the red labeled door that reads '001' in gold letters. You side eye the barricaded door and windows, realization finally sets in. You can't leave until you're finished with this job. With your attention back on the door you grip the handle and open it, quickly stepping inside.

The door slams behind you making you jump forward a bit, startled again by another door slamming behind you. You squint at the door suspiciously as you turn back around looking around. You step forward into the middle of the room, "Uhhmm. . . Hello?" You say hopefully loud enough for the resident to hear. Before you're able to take in the surroundings something hard hits the back of your head making your vision go black and fall unconscious, the last thing you're able to feel or even hear is "I've got you my. . Superstar," as you feel a pair of hands grab you a little too tight, keeping you from falling face first onto the floor.

A soft buzzing fills your mind as you slowly gain consciousness again. A soft groan escapes your throat as you sit up from the floor, your head hurts like hell. It appears you're in the same spot before you blacked out, it suprises you that youre still alive. As your vision gets unfuzzy there's a tall figure looming over you just. . . staring. "Uhm. . Hello..?" Your voice came out mumbled and quiet as you started back at the supposed monster infront of you, you can't make out what his face looks like due to his hood casting a dark shadow over his face and the red bandana covering the lower part of his face only making one of his eyes visible. In all honestly he doesn't really look like a monster besides his much taller height, but nothing else is distinguishable about him to classify him as a monster.

"I can't belive we can finally meet. . .-" Heavy breathing can be heard coming from him, almost could be distinguished as panting. "-Face to face..," His eyes squint, under that bandana he most likely has a sinister unsettling grin on his face. Just at the thought makes you cringe, internally of course, scared to make any negative reaction could have percussions. You finally register what he said after a moment, your mind trying to catch up with everything, adrenaline spiked a little out of fear, "Do I know. . you?" Your eyes squint suspiciously at the man infront of you, legs moving on their own, you stand up, leaning against the door behind you. The height difference didn't change at all, he was still much. . . much taller than you. Standing at roughly about two meters tall, your eyes widen in shock at the size difference between you both. 'What the hell was this guy?', 'Is he actually a monster?' , 'ARE MONSTERS EVEN REAL?'. Multiple thoughts swarmed your head like bees, are you going crazy? Shaking your head you averted your attention back to the guy infront of you. . He's still staring with his ecstatic squinted eyes, great.

"Of course you know me Superstar, I'm your biggest fan," You froze, goosebumps automatically formed on your skin as you heard that nickname. 'Superstar', could this really be the guy from Dumblr. . .? The air in the room seemed to get thick, making it hard for you to breath. Your hands get sweaty, a shudder runs through your spine. This 'thing' was your stalker. With heightened sense you realize that he's holding an axe. 'Holy fuck he's gonna kill me, I'm dead... im dead... im dead'. Those two words repeat in your head, frozen in fear. With your eyes fixated on the axe he begins to speak again. "Sorry for knocking you out, I thought you were one of those 'pests' who try to break into my room! It's become a habit for me to automatically attack anyone who enters. Good thing i realized it was 'you', my Superstar! Or else you woulve gotten. . . seriously injured." He cocks his head to the side, confused on your spaced out, deer caught in headlights facial expression, not realizing youre staring at the axe.

Responding in a meekly way, "I... It's okay.," Being super freaked out by the fact he could've killed you if he didn't recognized you sent a shock through you. A sudden laugh breaks you out of your trance as your eyes dart back to his face, you realize he's laughing. "PHAHAHAHA!" Being the awkward person you are, nervous and emotionally broken already, in fear he might attack you again, you awkwardly laugh along. "Hah... hahaha.." Your laughs come out more quietly than you wanted them, but he doesn't seem to care. But seriously, you have questions, you need to figure out how to cooperate with this monster and convince him to leave the hotel, afterall you do have a job to do.

Bringing up the courage to yourself to speak as he finally stops laughing, his squinted eyes turning back to their normal predatory gaze. "Are you by chance Nauseaxe_404...?" Raising an eyebrow already knowing the answer, but wanting confirm your suspicions. You see his eyes squint happily with admiration. "Yes! You don't know how long I've waited to finally talk to you, I've tried messaging you on Dumblr but you kept on blocking me.." His voice trailed off slightly, making you feel unease. Both his hands grip on the axe tightend as his breath became labored again. "You. . . You didn't block me on purpose. . hah . . Right?" His red eye glared at you with a subtle twitch, was he really that naive? Did he not realize he was a total creep when leaving those comments on your blogs? "Uh. . Of course not! It's probally some weird Dumblr glitch.." You don't sound sure at all, or even confident, but it was good enough for Nause. His grip on the axe loosened until only he eas holding onto it with one hand, and his shoulders slacked. He blinked and his eye went back to normal as he stood up semi straight again, still a bit hunched over.

"Heheh yeah. I guess it was, haha..," He paused, rubbing his neck. "Well then, what brings you here my Superstar?" He questioned, looking down at you with an unreadable expression, you weren't quite sure how to read him, he was unpredictable. "You need to like. . . leave?" You tried putting it in simple terms in hopes he won't lash out on you. You start feeling unnerved and decide to glance around, all this direct eye contact with him is making you more nervous. Taking in the view around you, you see presumably stapled or tacked printed out pages of writings of some blog? Not just a normal blog, fanfics. . . Holy crap. This guy has been printing off every single one of your posts and sticking them to his walls. He really IS your biggest fan. . . in more appropriate terms 'He really IS a stalker, creep, weirdo, a loser with no life!', gulping at the thought, thankfully your attention is directed back to Nause as he starts speaking again.

"Why 'would' I want to leave?! I have no idea how I got here in the first place. . . but I still have no intentions on leaving." His voice trails off with the hint of festering agitation. Small huffing can be heard from him again, he grips his axe infront of him. You accidently worked him up again, seemed like that was somehow a touchy question, flip. Mentally cursing to yourself you connect the few braincells in your head that haven't fried yet and come up with a excellent plan on how to deal with this freak.

"H. . How about I write a uhm..-" You paused, are you really gonna make the proposition of writing a fanfic for him in exchange for his leave. Yeah. "-If I write you a 'fanfic'. . or something since you seem to enjoy them. . . a lot..," Mumbled as your eyes glance back to the walls full of printed out pictures of your blogs. "If I do that will you please leave this hotel?" Silently pleading, praying, hoping to the man in the sky that he'll accept this offer so you can hurry up and finish this job. His body begins to shake with. . you don't even know at the moment. His eye curves with excitement you presume. "Really? Just for me right? No one else?!" Before you're able to respond he continues, "Could you maybe write them here? Or at least one? I have a old typewriter just incase for this one specific moment I fantasized about fivehundredseventytwothousandeighhundrednintyhundrendedquadrillion times!" You should be surprised but at this point you just want to be done.

"Sure... Sure yeah.." You mumbled with squinted eyes, hoping he wasn't going to make you stay here forever writing endless stories for him. You follow him into a room that has a desk with a laptop and a wooden chair. . . That must be uncomfortable for him, sitting at this desk for how many hours a day, stalking your blog with the shitty hotel wifi, life must suck for this dude no wonder why he's like this. Shaking your head at that absurd intruding thought you eye the chair, is that really what you're gonna have to sit on? Walking over, you sit down. Nause grabs the type writer from a box in the corner of the room, he pushes the laptop to the side and replaces it with the typewriter. He looms behind you, waiting for you to start typing. "Anything. . specific you want me to write?" Quickly you begin to regret the decision of giving him the option to choose what you write. "What about one about me and. . ." You can quite literally feel his breath huffing down on you, his grip on the old chair makes a soft cracking noise at how tight he's holding onto it. "Y. . yeah! Of course!" You quickly say not wanting to hear what else he has to say..., also scared he's gonna hurt you on accident from how worked up he got. Your attention goes back on the type writer, fingers tap against the keys writing whatever comes to your mind.

"Can you make it long....? Like at the minimum one hundred pages maybe?" Your fingers freeze on the keys. "one. . ONE HUNDRED?!" Your eyes widen as you tilt your head up to look at him, his gaze is still unrelenting as ever. "Yes! Since I'm getting a 'real', authentic work of art from you personally. . . I need it to be long.. It needs to take me more than one sitting to read it! PAHAHAHAHA." Who the hell does the guy think he is. "Sure. ." You're cooked, you've only manged to write stories with at the maximum two thousand words, and now you have to achieve like what. . fifty thousand words? Hopefully- "Can you start writing? Sorry to press but you've been looking up at me for a minute now. .NOT that I don't mind. . . pahahahahahaha," Your head slowly tilts back down defeated, no way in hell you can write this much in one sitting, and having to do it sitting on this uncomfortable ass chair and someone watching every word you type. Deciding to lock in with that grindset mindset you begin typing, fingers grazing over the keys as you tap away. With Nause not injecting in every second you're able to actually write.

You've managed to successfully write a solid ten pages. You slump forward dejected. How the actual fuck are you going to finish this. Already ran out of ideas and your ass starting to hurt from the wooden chair. You shift with a soft groan, having completely forgotten about the monster looming right behind you. You jump forward, startled at the sudden voice behind you, tilting your head to see him. "How's it going Superstar? Is the chair treating you well enough PHAHAHAHA." The nerve on this guy. You give him a deadpanned stare before turning your head to face the type writer again. "It's great. Thank you very much..," Sarcasm laced your voice, a small laugh can be heard behind you then in a swift movement Nause picks you up and places you on his lap as he sits down on the chair that 'might' be a little too small for him. Your body tenses up in his grasp as his hands lay comfortably around your waist, keeping you in place. Small huffing can be heard behind you. "You can relax Superstar, I won't be hurting you...yet. phahahahahahahah. . . hah.."

How ominous! You slowly begin typing again, trying to calm your breathing or just yourself in general. But it seems like Nause isn't letting you get anywhere near finishing that damn story. He keeps on poking and prodding you with injections on what you should put in the story. "How about you make me a love interest? Make it where me and you.." His labored breathing starts up again, his grip on you tightening but he doesn't seem to care at your attempts for him to stop. "Y. . Yeah! Okay!" You quickly verbally agree to this idea instead of nodding to his other ones since this one seems to twist something inside him. Gross. His grip slowly loosens as you quickly begin writing again about him and you doing more intimate things like couples would do, but nothing too drastic.

Nause gets more comfortable as your fingers press against the keys, it seems like the noise lulls him to some extent. Was this part of one of his fantasies he's had with you? You start to feel kinda bad for the dude, he's way too obsessed with you. . a nobody. How could someone like this find you alluring? You cautiously lean back into him, oddly finding comfort in this situation. You hear his heavy breathing audibly hitch at the sudden adjustment. His arms snake around your waist completely, entraping you for good now. Not that you were complaining, it felt nice.. and comforting, in a more underlying sickening way. You shouldn't be comfortable around this guy, he's your stalker after all, in all reality did you even know anything about him besides his crippling obsession over you? No, no you didnt, you should be pushing him away but the fear, the fear of him hurting you made you stay in his lap. In the back of your mind you knew how wrong this was, how wrong it was for you to find a small twing of comfort with this sadistic monster. Maybe your desperation, the feeling of finally feeling wanted in your life, finding someone who actually wanted to be by you?

These thoughts made you feel revolted. You were actually feeling disgusted with yourself right now. A sickening feeling wrapped into your stomach, why were you trying to find some light in this situation? Was it to try and manipulate yourself into thinking that you're fine with all of. . this? You've never met anyone like this before. Never seen a person so obsessed. . devoted with you, you didn't want this, not at all. This guy is dangerous, he's unstable, and extremely unpredictable. You 'shouldnt' want this, but knowing that it's wrong only makes you crave it more. When you’re not used to attention, anything feels romantic. The way his arms are wrapped around your body as you try to focus on writing the story infront of you make you feel completed in a way. Nauses chipper voice broke you out of your thoughts, "Can you start to write the more heated stuff now? Just like in your old posts? Can you write about how you and I. ." He begins to list off in very detailed scenarios between you both. You sit there and listen to him talking non stop, you don't even think he took a break to breath. As he continues to rant about multiple of his fantasies that you should write about his grip on you gets tighter. . . and tighter to the point where it feels like he's going to break your ribs.

You yelp. Pathetically, you try to pry his hands off of you but it doesn't work. Realization sets in that he doesn't realize his death grip he has on you. You tilt your head to see him and his gaze is glossed over as he continues to ramble on about his weird fantasies. You look around the room and see that his axe is near the door, too far away to grab.You slowly lose hope, is this how you die, by the hands of your obessor? A cracking noise is what makes him stop. Your breathing chokes as you feel a sudden shot of pain near your chest. 'Did. . did he just break my rib..?' "S..SUPERSTAR? Superstar are you okay?" His voice is laced with faux worry, but you're too out of it to realize, your eyes are glued to where you felt the pain. Multiple thoughts rush through head about the pain, what were you even going to do? Nause picking you up is what breaks you out of the trance. "I think I broke your rib! PHAHAHA." Your eyebrows furrow at his laughing. He didn't seem to feel any remorse or guilt for hurting you. . . you should've known. You're a fool to have thought you felt secure next to him.

The sudden shift in surroundings jolts you out of the haze of pain and fear, as Nause carries you into a different room. The air feels heavier here, suffused with a sense of foreboding that sends shivers down your spine. The mattress beneath you feels cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the warmth you once sought in his twisted embrace.As your gaze wanders around the room, you are met with a display of walls adorned with an array of photographs capturing moments of your life, each one a piece of your personal history frozen in time. Surrounding you are intimate details about your existence, laid bare for Nause to see, creating a tapestry of memories and revelations that paint a vivid portrait of your identity, your life. You can't help but feel like a trapped bird, ensnared in a web woven by a predator whose intentions grow darker with each passing moment.

Nause reappeared after a brief moment, holding a small, sleek black container in his hands. As he places it beside you, his tall figure looms over, casting a shadow that seems to engulf the room. "Superstar, may I have a look at where it hurts?" he asks, his one visible eye gazing at you with an innocent curiosity. Feeling a mix of apprehension, you nod hesitantly mumbling unsure "S. . Sure," propping yourself up with your elbows. Slowly, you lift your shirt, revealing the area where your ribs are already bruising. Nause opens the container, revealing its contents - soft gauze and a cold ice pack, promising relief from the pain that gnaws at you. He begins to slowly wrap the ice pack with gauze around the side where your rib was broken, the coldness makes your body shudder and goosebumps form on your skin. His movements are carefully slow, as if he's doing it on purpose. As you finally begin to come down from your shock of how much pain you were in, soft labored breathing can be heard next to you. You wonder how long he's been like that, was him bandaging you up really making him act up. . again?

With a nervous gaze, you watch as his hands slowly guide the gauze just under chest, his eyes were trained on your exposed flesh. You cringe slighty as you notice, is that what was really bothering him? Seeing half your torso exposed? "Did you know this was one of my scenarios I've thought of before?!" Nauses somehow chipper voice rings through the quiet room. Holy fuck, he broke your rib on purpose. This revolution makes your body shudder with disgust? Anger? You couldn't really tell at the moment. "Oh. . Oh really. ." You mumbled out under your breat, distaste laced your . Nause finishes up bandaging you up and sets the container on the floor next to the bed. You quickly pull your shirt down with the energy you have left. You lay back down on the dingy bed now just feeling how tired. . exhausted you were. A sigh leaves you as your hands rub against your face, leaving them there for a second before letting then fall to your sides.

Frustration boiled inside you. This job was suppost to be quick and easy, you wernt prepared for this, for 'any' of this. This was most likely some sort of trap from your client. He set you up for failure. "Superstar, you should really get some rest. You still need to finish writing my one hundred pages story!" Your tired eyes glanced over to him, his towering frame made you feel small, pathetic. "Yeah. . goodnight.." You managed to muster out, turning around so your back faced him. Pulling the blanket up to your face, nuzzling into it. Sleep quickly came over to you. Should it worry you that he's watching you sleep? Yeah, and should you be on guard? Probally, but you've lost hope. You never really had a chance in the first place, did you?

A soft groan left your throat as you woke up, the pain from your broken rib quickly reminding you where you were. Rolling over on your back with a yawn you almost choke on your breath as you see Nause still standing over the bed. . watching you. "Were you there. . . all night?" You question him with a raised brow, you were seriously concernedfor this guy. "Of course! I had to make sure my Superstar was safe!" Of course, what more did you expect from him. You hiss out in pain as you sit up. "Can I get like an advil or something?" Your hand holds the spot where the now semi cold ice pack sits, you don't bother telling him about the temperature of it, you don't want to risk him overwhelming himself again and hurting you. . again. He seems to pause for a second, letting out an unsure noise. "I don't really have anything like that here. .The only reason I got that ice pack and stuff for you was from one of my neighbors. ." Sheepishly he rubbed the back of his neck his eye twitched with agitation, you wondered about why he couldn't just go over next door and ask for some pain meds but you didn't wanna pester him about it, he didn't seem to have the best relationship with the other residents here.

"BUT! To take your mind off of the pain you can continue writing!" Oh right, you still had to write about fifty more pages for his psychotic fanfic about you both. With the typewriter on standby he carefully sets it in your lap, to your suprise it wasn't as heavy as you thought it would be. Leaning back on the adjusted pillows behind you, you began writing. Deciding to cheap your way out, you typed every word with doubled letters to make the pages fill out quicker. After awhile, you were able to make the pages filled out faster than normal, but you quickly ran out of ideas. "Do you 'really' need a hundred pages? Im running out of ideas. Can't these perfectly crafted fifty pages be go-," Nause quickly cuts you off. "NO! I NEED those one hundred pages. I need. . . hah. ." His voice trails off as his breathing starts to get harder. In a swift motion he yanks his axe out, his grip tight on the handle, his eyes clouded with god knows what as he glares at you.

"Y. . Yeah! Of courseee..." You quickly agree scared of the axe welding monster infront of you. His grip slowly falters as his breathing goes back to normal after a couple of moments. "PAHAHAHA. . HAH.. I know how to help you!" Your expression quickly dropped, what could he mean by that? He could do litteraly anything to 'help' you, what he thinks could be 'help' could be the complete opposite to you. Multiple ideas infected your head, multiple terrible ideas, you were terrified on what he was about to do. "Since you need inspiration how about I help get your little mind in gear again!" His hand pulled down his bandana showing his sinister grin that laced his face, his sharp teeth gleamed in the dimly lit bedroom. "PHAHAHA!" He began to hysterically laugh again as he crawled onto the bed with you, on top of you. "W. . wha . ." The words you want to get out in protest, to question what he's about to do, they get stuck in your throat from fear. All you can do is stare up at him petrified with wide eyes, mouth agap.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this. .!" His eye gleamed down at you happily, in his sick twisted mind this way his way of helping you. After a moment of him just looking at you and you not giving a response, his head tilted to the side in confusion. His expression turned to one of a kicked puppy, his once toothy grin frowned. "What's the matter? Why arnt you excited? Isn't this what you've wanted?" He questioned looking confused, and a little heart broken. "I've read all your stories and one of them sounds just like this! A tall, handsome, good looking monster with an axe gets with you. I already know that the story was about me, the description matches. So. . . isn't this what you want?" You freeze, did you actually write something like that? You don't remember at all, you begin to doubt his truthfulness and think he made that up on the spot just to try and manipulate you. But, another thought did cloud your mind. When in your whole life are you going to get another chance to fuck a monster? You start to see the appeal of him, his grey skin, sinister gaze, size difference, and the fact he could kill you? A whole package deal to be honest.

"I. . I guess." Reluctantly you agree, if there's a chance you're going to die, you'll die happy. You wince under his gaze, his eyes squint happily once more as his toothy grin appears again. "Great! Even if you said no I was going to anyways!" He admits nonchalantly, what did you expect, of course he would. "Now let's get those creative gears in your head flowing with endless ideas!" His voiced changed into a slutry tone as his gaze clouded with undying lust. With his head lowered and his face just inches from yours, you can see a long, black tongue slithering out of his mouth. A soft gasp leaves your mouth at the sight, at the opportunity Nause connects his mouth with yours. His tongue snaked into your mouth, causing you to let out a choked gasp. He then left you with a sated moan as his tongue roamed around in your mouth. His hands creeped under your shirt, his rough fingers pawed at the exposed flesh of your sides, seemingly trying to ground himself.

As his knee forcefully inserted itself between your thighs rubbing against you, it felt divine. A choked whimper left your lips at the feeling, you don't even remember the last time someone was this intimate with you, it was making you feel light headed. . . No it wasn't because of that, it was the fact that Nause wasn't budging when you needed air, now. Your eyes shot open as your hands relentlessly pushed and pathetically punched against his chest, he was unmoving. With your vision starting to blur you resorted to your last idea, your hand moved down to his crotch and roughly squzzed. A low moan left his mouth as he pulled back from you panting heavily. "PHAHAHAHA. Superstar. . hah.," He stares down at your hand, licking his lips before reaching down and grabbing it. His large hand wrapped around your wrist pushing your hand harder onto him.

A low satisfied groan leaves him as he ruts against your hand. "N. .Nause..," You spoke barley above a whisper, your eyes were glued to the scene infront of you, his large clothed cock rubbing against your hand. Fuck, there's no way that was fitting inside you in anyway. "Superstar. ." His eyes never left your face. "I. . wait a second, how did it go again.." He mumbled more to himself as he took his hand off of yours and searched his pockets. After a moment he took a piece of carefully folded paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, his eyes scanned the page. "Nause. . . what is that." You could already assume it was one of your fictive stories. "It's one of my favorite pieces by you! I just forgot how it went. . bear with me for a moment Superstar. . .!" His voice trailed off twords the end as he concentrates on re freshing his memory up on supposedly what he wants to do. "Aha! Now get ready for a once in a life time experience. . . PAHAHAHAHA." He shoves the paper back into his pocket, his predatory gaze looks down at your lower abdomen. His fingers quickly did work of your pants tugging them off and discarding them on the floor.

His breathing begins to get labored again and if pupils could have heart eyes that's what he would have right now. "Finally. .!" He gets situated inbetween your thighs, now laying on his stomach, his head resting on the inner of your thigh and his callused fingers lazily tracing along the already damp clothed slit of your entrance. In a swift sudden motion he pulls his axe out from his back, holding onto the butt of the axe he slowly cuts off your underwear. Your body freezes as you stare down at him with wide, scared, yet desperate eyes. Maybe him using the axe turned you on, just a little bit. His axe hovered over the bare skin of your thighs, he seemed lost in a trance as he traced light lines above your skin.

"N. .Nause?!" Catiously you warned him with a slight waver in your tone, scared he was actually going to cut you. "PAHAHAHAHA. . . HAH.. Sorry." He haphazardly tosses the axe off the side of the bed, a thud resonates in the room from the heavy axe. "Now where were we!?" He stares at you briefly before redirecting it down to your exposed cunt. His fingers traced along your folds, letting his fingers get drenched in your slick. With his mouth hovering over your clit, he experimentally takes a long lick on it. You squirm at the feeling, thighs instinctively wanting to close, his free hand holds onto one of your thighs making sure you're spread open for him. His two fingers quickly pump in and out of you as his tongue circles and softly sucks on your clit. The obscene squeltch of your pussy sends a blush across your face, with his relentless bullying of his fingers in you, curling up into every time he pushed them in. Your hips jerked as you felt the familiar feeling of your high building up in your stomach.

Soft pants filled the room as you neared your peak, your hands gripped onto Nauses head pushing him more into you, the feeling of his tongue swirling around on you became too much. A soft moan left your mouth as you clenched around his fingers, coating them with your cum. The low groan that left Nause vibrated against you, causing your hips to jerk slighty due to the stimulation. "PAHAHA. Did I do good Superstar?" He asked teasingly while sucking hard on your clit. "Mmphh.." Is all you manage to reply from the overstimulation. Nause leans back after a moment, allowing you to catch your breath. "Now let's get to the real show! HAH. ." His unerving grin never leaving his face as he undoes the clasp of his grayish belt, quickly yanking his pants down discarding them on the floor.

You're now able to see his clothed member strained against the confines of his briefs, there's a wet spot near his tip from how much pre cum he's leaking. Your eyes widen at just how big he is again realizing that there's no way he's gonna be able to fit all of that in you. "Feeling nervous? PAHAHAHA. You look so cute when you're scared. . hehe..!" His hands grab at your shirt ripping it off of you, then unclasping your bra leaving you completely nude underneath him. His hands find there way to your chest and paw at your breast's, taking in the nip inbetween his fingers and tweening it. The noises filling in the room are your soft whines and whimpers and Nauses concerning hard breathing. "Nause. ." You mewl out impatiently. "Sorry! They're just so soft..HAH..heh.." He pinches them once more before pulling off his briefs. With him now exposed he grabbed the back of your thighs hastily, pushing them up to your chest.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this!" With his neurotic gaze set on yours he roughly pushes himself inside, pained whimpers filled the room as tears filled the corners of your eyes. The sudden intrusion with no warning did not prepare you at all. He's only able to stuff about half of himself inside you due to his size. You guess due to him being freakishly tall with a huge build he was bound to have a big cock. "So small.." He mutters with a groan into your neck. "All mine. ." He pulls out and slowly ruts back in clumsy, your gummy walls desperately try to adjust to his size. With each thrust, his movements get harsher, more needy, all consuming. With his face nuzzled into your neck, you feel something slick slither around your neck before a quick shot of pain envelopes on your shoulder.

Nause bites rather harshly, letting his teeth sink in just enough to draw blood. His tongue laps up the blood eagerly, you can feel his dick throb inside you as he gets closer to his release. His hand moves down and his rough thumb sloppily rubs circles on your clit, a choked moan leaves you at the overwhelming sensations. You thought he would be talking this whole time but he seems too caught up in the feeling to care. With his thrusts getting more sloppy and the pleasure building up in your stomach becoming too much, you clench around Nauses cock, closing your eyes at the feeling letting out a moan as you ride out your climax. Shortly after Nause rocks his hips into a few more times before shoving himself back in roughly. You shudder at the feeling of him filling you up, harsh breaths fill your ears as he's gripping onto you like you'll leave.

He stays on top of you, holding onto you as his cock slowly softens inside of you. He pulls out, laying beside you, his arms hugging you from behind, face comfortably nuzzled in your hair, taking in the scent. The feeling is comforting, as you hear his breathing soften behind you sleep begins to lull you. You sleep comfortably in Nauses arms, the dread of having to write those pages and the task of removing Nause from this room leaves your mind as sleep over takes you. The pain of your rib being forgotten, that was going to be a pain when you woke up.

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

[starcursedluvrs]

"TALK"

I suguru x pregnant!reader

“And I’d be the immediate  Forgiveness  In Eurydice.  Imagine being loved by me.” 

part I of suguru x pregnant!reader (this isn’t completely canon compliant, and will probs be 3 or 4 parts and will go up to December 24th, 2017 on the current JJK timeline).  

summary: you loved suguru more than anything in this world. and you could argue he felt the same for you. actually, he would end the world for you. so, he took you with him the night he defected, and you happily obliged. however, in the midst of the chaos of leaving your life behind, two little lines appear on a certain test causing you to rethink your entire plan. 

A/N: heyyy!! i'm arden!! this is my first try at ever posting the fanfic I’ve written so please enjoy! I started this specific fic as a hobby back in December, and I finished it a little over a month ago (I’ve just been kinda nervy to post hehe) so here goes nothing! likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated <3

MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 

warnings!: SPOILERS FOR GOJO’S PAST ARC. THIS IS A PREGNANCY FIC! 18+. nsfw. f!reader. suguru and reader are over the age of 18. explicit sexual content. unprotected sex/oral (f!receiving). breeding kink. fingering. creampie. pregnancy. unplanned pregnancy. lactation kink. mentions of child abuse. cute domestic fluff hehe. 

wc: 14.5k

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

September 2007 

4:27 PM (16:27)

“Wait…so what are we doing again?” you asked, riding atop one of Suguru’s many curses. You were straddling the pink alien-looking curse, legs dangling off either  side. One of Suguru’s large hands held your waist steady while the other controlled the motion of the cursed spirit. His chin was buried in the crook of your neck, so that he had easy access to press kisses into your skin. 

Suguru left a line of sweet pecks down your shoulder before answering. 

“This village in the sticks was reported to have kidnappings and abnormal deaths. Shouldn’t be anything unusual,” he said nonchalantly. 

You leaned back against him so that you could look up into his honey irises, pouting. His hand left your waist, moving comfortably behind him to support both of your weight. 

“Then why did you ask me to come along? Seems like you could handle it yourself, you’re a special grade. I’m only a semi grade-one,” you reasoned, reaching up to play with his stray bangs. He grabbed your hand before you could reach his neat, inky bun, pressing light kisses into your knuckles. 

“Well, if all goes well, maybe we can find a hotel or do something nice. Charge it to the school and say it took longer than we expected, so we get to stay somewhere overnight without waking Satoru,” Suguru replied, smirking a bit on the last line of his speech. 

“I like the way you think, my love,” you beamed, melting into his touch. 

… 

January 2007 

You and Suguru had been in a committed relationship for the past nine months, and friends for even longer.  You started secretly fucking around at the beginning of your third year at Jujutsu High. You had always been attracted to him, but given your tiny class size and the complexity of Jujutsu Society, you didn’t want to cause any drama or make things weird between you two. 

Well, life doesn’t always go to plan. 

Especially that one night at the beginning of your third year when you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru broke into Yaga’s liquor cabinet, stole two bottles of sake, and got a little handsy. With your judgment impaired, you might have let it slip that you thought Suguru was very attractive and often wondered how his sculpted body would feel beneath his Bontan pants and uniform shirt. The thought was reciprocated by the raven head. 

One thing led to another, and the next morning, you woke up in a tangled mess of inky black hair and bedsheets. Suguru just held you, keeping your body close to his, whispering sweet nothings into your ears. It was nice, you did not have to say anything to fill the comfortable silence that had fallen upon you two. 

Eventually, he placed a kiss on your forehead and started to pull his clothes on from the previous night. 

Last night. Was last night a mistake? 

Should you have let Suguru taken you out to dinner or something before he fucked you into tomorrow? 

“Wait…Sug hold on.

What does this mean? 

For us? Our friendship?” you asked in a panic before Suguru reached the door. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to,” he replied in his calm, collected tone, looking at the floor with his back to you. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up, still covered by the soft sheets, pulling your knees into your chest, slightly offended. 

“Just that we don’t have to make a big deal out of this if we don’t want to. We also don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I know this could complicate things if we keep at it,” he paced around to face you again, the distance still rather daunting.

“Okay.” 

“Cool.”

The comfortable silence from before slowly turned awkward. 

“Um…thanks,” you offer. 

“…for…what?” Suguru inquired. 

“Last night. It was…fun,” you flashed him an unsure smile. 

A deep rumble came from his chest as he chuckled, “Yeah, let’s see how much fun you have walking today. See ya in class,” before leaving the room.

“SUG-“ you called after him, blushing at the cheesy line as he left the room, disappearing back into the cocoon of sheets. 

…

March, 2007 

You tried to keep your distance from him. Being a child of the Kamo clan, you were probably destined to be forced into some relationship that benefitted Jujutsu society, and not your happiness. This was just one of the many things that you hated about Jujutsu Society. Therefore, Suguru was all that more enticing to you. 

You found yourself perched on Suguru’s desk the next week. Your legs were spread wide, held apart by his large hands to assure you didn’t squirm around too much and get away from him. Suguru was lapping at your folds like a man starved. He dragged his tongue up and down your slit, and worked his way up to your clit, giving it a little kiss and suck. 

“Ngh Suguru. More.” You moaned, bucking your hips up to his face. 

“That’s not how we ask,” he replied, pulling away. 

“Suguru. Please.”

“What happened to complete sentences?” Suguru pressed one of his large thumbs to your nub, holding pressure, but refrained from moving it. 

“Fuck YOU Suguru I-“ 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, doll. You’re just not behaving.” 

He started to swirl his thumb around gently. It wasn’t enough to make you cum, but the pleasure was still intense. 

“Suguru please, I need som-something inside. Fingers. Yours. Please.” You croaked out, your head going dizzy with pleasure. 

“Awww, what’s wrong? Can’t think straight?” He said, plunging his slickened digits, adorned with a few silver rings, right into your core. 

“At least you said please, so I guess I’ll let you cum this time,” Suguru voiced in that smooth, sultry voice of his. 

He started moving those two digits back and forth in a “come here” motion, not giving you a chance to adjust to their circumference. A lewd squelching noise filled the room as he continued his ministrations. “You’re being such a good girl for me, taking my rings and fingers so well. Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” 

You let out a loud moan, and Suguru immediately pushed his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on. That way, you wouldn’t draw attention to any unwelcome visitors who might be walking the halls of the school. 

“You don’t even have to answer with that pretty mouth, your body is answering for you. You’re so tight. Gods, you’re gorgeous.” he whispered into your ear. 

He put his mouth back on your clit to suck, and added a third finger. He kept thrusting it in and out, hitting that sweet spot that had you seeing stars, as if he had your g-spot memorized. 

If Sugru ended up drowning in your juices, he would die a happy man. He absolutely loved lapping up at your sweet pussy, the earthy scent intoxicating to him. 

Soon, you felt the familiar coil in the depths of your belly start to come undone, and your cunt fluttered around Suguru’s fingers, the stimulation becoming too much.

“Come apart f’me. I got you love. I got you. Cum f’me,” Suguru commanded in his pussy-drunk haze. 

You let go as your orgasm washed over you, relishing in the pure bliss as Suguru helped you through the aftershocks. When you came to, he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. You could still taste your essence on his tongue. 

The next night, you were folded over the same desk as he pounded into you with his fat length. The bathroom stalls. The pantry. Behind the bleachers at the field. You could not get enough of each other. 

You and Suguru both fell hard and fast for each other. His unwavering sense of morality, intelligence, and kindness towards others drew you even further into his grasp. The way he spoke, his scent of freshly done laundry, his loyalty to his friends; these were all things that you loved about Suguru Geto. He was one of a kind. 

As Jujutsu Sorcerers, you were well aware that your tomorrow was not guaranteed. Suguru made you feel alive, which, to you, was worth more than any amount of fame or glory that your clan could bestow upon you. He truly wanted to make the world a better place for you, and any future you might have together. On the third month of your official relationship, you confessed your love: 

“Suguruuuu,” you giggled as he kissed up your neck. 

You had been laying in Suguru’s bed, in the midst of a heated makeout session. Your back was pressed flat into the mattress, knees at an angle, and feet flat against the soft duvet. Suguru was positioned right on top of you, in between your knees. He held your face in both of his hands, and your arms clung to the back of his head, getting lost in the inky strands. 

“I love you.” He whispered, as if he was telling a secret. 

In lieu of an answer, you brought his head down into a deep, passionate kiss. Your tongues danced together for what seemed like forever and no time at all, until you broke the kiss and said, “I think I may love you more.” 

“Unfortunately, doll, that’s simply not true. I’d end the world for you.” 

You were hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.    

…

May 2007 

“You have a list of baby names picked out? Dude you’ve been together for like a few months.” Shoko taunted, a cigarette tucked between her lips, clicking away on her silver flip phone. 

“Oh, come on Ieiri, I think every person has a baby name list.”

“I don’t.” Shoko deadpanned. 

“You’re a lesbian who has no desire for kids,” you shot back.

“Touché. I do have a cat name list, though, if that counts,” Shoko added.

“I think it does.” you replied. 

“Ugh, fineee, gimme the list,” said Shoko, already grabbing the journal out of your hand. After scanning through the list of names, Shoko looked up at you and burst into laughter.

“Ok, you cannot name your kid Shigure. Or Kyo. Or any character from Fruits Bask-“

“Yo, WHO’S having a kid” interrupted the lanky, white-haired person with blacked-out sunglasses and a mischievous smile. Suguru appeared next to Satoru, holding a basketball, running to kiss you hello. 

“NO ONE’S having a kid,” you replied. 

“Ok, wait I need to know, do either of you have baby name lists? I feel like every person has them.” 

Satoru sighed, and thought about the question for a second. Suguru sat on the ground and started rolling the basketball in the dirt. 

“I haven’t even thought about baby names. To be honest, kids are kinda hard to have when you’re a sorcerer. You have to go on missions and then come home and change diapers, no thanks. Like, what if it poops on you? Also, I kinda wanna spite the old geezers in my clan.” Satoru added.

“You raise an excellent point, Gojo. This is one of the reasons why I love being a lesbian. Less of a risk for accidents,” Shoko took a drag from her cigarette.

“I can’t be the ONLY person here who has a list,” you sighed. 

“Lemme see that-“ Satoru said as he grabbed your journal from Shoko’s grasp. 

“…These are just Fruits Basket and One Piece charact-” Satoru snickered. 

“Wait Satoru, have you read the new One Piece chapter yet? I heard it’s crazy.” Suguru cut in. 

“Oh, no not yet, I haven’t had a chance to get the new volume,” Satoru whined. 

“What are you doing right now? Wanna go pick up some coke from the vending machine, then get to that bookstore in Shinjuku and grab a copy?” Suguru explained with excitement. 

“Honestly, a coke sounds amazing right now. Either of you wanna come?” Satoru gestured to you and Shoko. 

“Nah, I think we’re gonna go steal some of Yaga’s booze,” Shoko informed. 

“Yeah, he’s on a mission for the next day or so. Might as well take advantage of it,” You said, a little defeated and disinterested. 

“…’kay see you guys later then.” Satoru said in a sing-songy voice. 

Suguru walked up to you, pressed a quick peck on your lips, and said, “I’ll be back. Love you.” 

But that wasn’t all.

Under his breath, so that no one else could hear, he whispered, “Don’t think this conversation is over yet, doll,” and walked away as if he hadn’t uttered anything. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and you felt your cheeks go hot as he walked away. 

… 

Later the same day, May, 2007

You were sitting on Suguru’s lap as he twiddled on his PS3 controller playing one of his games. Suguru was sitting on the floor, his legs criss-crossed while you leaned against his back, feeling his warmth though his clothing. You were sporting one of his large white t-shirts, wearing only your favorite pair of panties underneath. 

“Sug?” You question softly, turning around to face him. 

“Yeah, doll?” He replied not looking down from his game. 

“So…about that comment earlier. Why did you say the conversation wasn’t finished yet? And which one? About the One Piece chapter? Or the baby names? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable asking that question, I was ju-“

Suguru paused his game and looked at you, a smirk on his face. 

“It did the opposite of making me uncomfortable, actually. It made me feel a little more normal, or as normal as we can be given our lifestyle. I have a baby name list too.” 

Your heart fluttered. Of course he did. 

“I saw the list over Satoru’s shoulder. And we actually had one name in common.”

“Which name?” 

“Riko.” He replied softly.

His answer made you happy and sad all at once. You wish you didn’t have that name on your list. Riko Amanai had meant so much to the both of you. She represented the freedom that you could have from Jujutsu Society, as well as everything that was broken and corrupt about it. Riko’s death is what radicalized the both of you. She set you both on a path to work towards a better world. 

For a moment, you thought about what your life would be with Suguru had you not been Jujutsu Sorcerers. You would probably get married as soon as you graduated, get a job somewhere. Buy a cozy house in the countryside. Make home cooked meals, have children, adopt some dogs. You would grow old together and not have to constantly worry about the fact that you could die a gruesome death in the morning. 

You were lying down on your side now, your back against Suguru’s chest. Suguru moved a hand under your shirt, to your stomach, slowly rubbing circles, drawing you out of your trance. 

“I love your tummy, it’s so cute” Suguru sighed into your ear. 

You giggled.

“What’s so funny about that, love?”

“I’m sorry that just sounded so funny in the moment.” 

“I don’t think it’s that funny, especially when my baby’s gonna be in there one day.”

He said it so nonchalantly and matter-of-factly that you thought you had misheard him. You blushed, hoping you didn’t mishear. 

“SUG-“ you turned around and gave a playful slap to his arm. 

After a pause of giggling from the both of you, Suguru just couldn’t let the topic get away from you. 

“Ya know, I think about it a lot,” he continued. 

“Think about what,” you questioned.

“Think about what our future would be like. A house that is actually full of love. And little feet running around.” 

“Tell me more,” you said against his lips. 

“Maybe we’d live in a really remote village away from everything Jujutsu related. We could get a little farm, raise some sheep, horses, chickens, crops. We could add to the world instead of just taking.” 

“Why do we have to wait for the future to do that? Money isn’t the issue here,” You answered, referring to the handsome compensation you receive for such a risky career path. 

“True, I could just fuck a baby into you right now.” 

“I was talking about the house, and you knew that.” You shot back, a laugh escaping your chest at an attempt to be serious. 

“That’s another thing I think about.” 

“What?” You were taunting him now. You wanted to see where this was going.

“You, your tummy all round with my baby. God, you look so good when you’re stuffed full f’me,” Suguru slurred. From the dim light of his paused video game, you could see that his pupils were blown with lust. He kissed you hard and messily, tongue intertwining with yours.

Suguru removed your (his) shirt and started to kiss down your body, landing at your breasts, hovering right over a nipple. 

“These would look so good with milk. So pretty and soft,” he purred, taking a nipple into his mouth. 

The warmth of his mouth felt so good against your pebbled nipples, you couldn’t help but let out a moan. He licked and sucked until you were a drooling, wet mess underneath him. 

“You like this, huh. Baby, I’ve barely touched you. And you’re already this worked up?” He taunted, moving to give attention to the neglected nipple. 

“What else?” you slurred, ignoring his question. He still hadn’t admitted it.

“Everyone would know who you belonged to. All because of me.” He continued, releasing the nipple from his mouth. 

His words sent shivers down your spine, and you felt your arousal start to pool uncomfortably in your underwear. You needed them off. 

“Suguru, what do you want?” you asked the obvious question, just wanting to hear him speak more on the topic. 

“I wanna stuff your pretty cunt full of cum ‘till you can’t take any more, doll,” he grumbled, grinding his impressive erection on your clothed cunt. 

“Wanna get you pregnant so bad,” he continued pressing feverish kisses down the length of your body. “You’ve been asking a lot of questions about what I want.” He made his way to your panties, “But, before I take these off, I need to know what you want.”

Your hole was clenching around nothing at his words, you were getting rather impatient. 

“Please touch me.” You whined. 

“Hmm, I have been touching you my love,” 

“Sugu- stop t-teasin-nghhh.” you moaned as one of his thick fingers started moving in a circular motion on your bud. Soon, one finger became two, and he moved them from your clit to your slick folds, swirling the juices around, occasionally ghosting your eager cunt. 

“Suguru gimme your dick,” you begged. 

“Baby, one, you can ask nicer than that, where are your manners? And two, I have to get you ready to take me first. Gotta make sure I can fit the most amount of cum in there as possible,” he let out a small moan on the last word. 

“Open your mouth, doll,” he commanded. 

You complied, opening your mouth as he stuck his two slickened fingers in, pushing them as far back as they could go. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a dark stain forming on his gray sweatpants. He must have been impossibly hard. 

Your moans and gasps vibrated against his digits, and when he thought you had been teased enough, he finally offered you the sweet relief of his fingers filling you. Definitely not as large as his cock, but they reached the parts of you that you could not with your own hands. Suguru started thrusting in and out, curling his fingers along the way, hitting your g-spot with brutal precision.

“Sug-nghhh, I’m gonna-” 

“Shhh baby, you can let go for me, I got you. So good f’me.” 

With the thumb of his hand, he lightly stroked your clit, and you felt the familiar heat bubbling in your core. After a few more thrusts, and praises from Suguru, you were cumming all over his fingers. He helped you through your orgasm, your head full of wool as you came down from your high. Suguru brought his drenched appendages to his mouth and sucked, cleaning your fluids from his fingers.

“If only curses tasted this good. I can’t get enough of you.”

In your post-orgasm clarity, you realized that your boyfriend was still clothed. That wouldn’t do. You sit up, rummaging through sticky sweats and underwear to pull his dick out. A long strand of precum dripped from his tip, breaking away as you pulled him out of his boxers. His penis would never fail to surprise you; he was of average length, but so thick, you could barely close your hand around him. You wrapped two hands around his cock as your mouth watered at the beautiful sight before you. But, just as you were about to taste him, two of his strong hands pushed you back against the bed, forcing you off of his dick. 

“What was that for? I wanna suck you off,” you pouted.

“Sorry, doll. We can’t waste any cum,” he said as his nose ghosted against yours. 

“But I just wanted to make sure, you never said it out loud. Do you actually want this? Can I actually get you pregnant? Don’t wanna pressure you if it was just a kink.” He looked into your eyes with concern, needing your verbal confirmation to continue. 

“Suguru. Put a baby in me.” 

You think you broke your boyfriend after saying that. He let out a grunt from deep within his chest and grabbed a pillow from the pile that fell off the bed in during your earlier activities. He placed the pillow underneath your lower back and whispered choruses of “I love you,” on your skin. Suguru’s fingertips traced over your skin, eventually grasping your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. 

“I don’t deserve you, doll.” He pressed a quick kiss to your nose. 

“This is called a mating press,” Suguru explained as he grabbed his cock and lined up with your twitching hole. “I did some research as to what position would get you pregnant the fastest, and I think this one has a good success rate.”  He sounded so methodical in his explanation, which was so in character for him. Of course your Suguru would do research into this. He would do anything for you to make you happy. And you would do the same for him. 

When he pushes the head in, you both gasp at the contact. He kept sliding in until his balls slapped against your ass and your pelvic bones met. There was such little resistance, and you let out a sob as he bottomed out. 

“You ok, baby? You’re taking me like such a-a, nghhh- good girl. Feels like heaven in your pussy. My pussy.” It was so attractive when he got possessive over you, your ovaries felt like they were about to burst in more ways than one. 

“Sugu- ngh- move-“ 

Instead of moving, he licked the inside of your upper thigh, dragging his tongue impossibly slow to tease you. 

“NGH- plea-ahhh please,” you could feel tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. He made it so easy for you to fall apart. 

“Good girl, look at you using your words,” he sounded wrecked, his voice gravely with arousal. And with that, he began moving. At first, his thrusts were slow and deep; you could feel every vein and ridge on his dick. His balls slapped against the fat of your ass, creating an embarrassingly loud clapping sound that bounced off of the walls. It felt delicious. 

You weren’t just having sex - he was making love to you. It was emotional and sensual. The tears you felt earlier spilled over on to your cheeks as Suguru picked up the pace, his cock pistoning in and out. He kissed your tears away as you muttered broken moans of both his name and explicits. 

Suguru’s grip was surely going to leave bruises in the morning. One hand was holding your body in place around your waist, while the other kept your leg over his shoulder. He let go of your leg for a moment as he grabbed another pillow that was somewhere in reach, and gently slid it under your hips so that he could reach you at a deeper angle. Your vision went blurry. He was impossibly deep, you thought you could feel him rearranging your intestines. 

Finally, his thrusts started getting sloppier. You knew Suguru was close. 

“Gonna fuck my baby into you,” he half moaned. “Fuck, love, I’m close. Want ya to let go first,” and with that, he moved his possessive, bruising touch to rub your clit. After a few rotations around your nub, you let go, your vision going white as you came hard, your cunt clamping down on his cock.

The vice grip of your pussy is what finally sent him over the edge, and Suguru began to fill you up with his thick load. 

“Thank you, baby, thank you,” Suguru chanted, like it was a prayer, and you were the goddess who was receiving his offering. You laid like that for a while, him still inside, your hips tilted up to keep his cum inside of you. He left a trail of kisses down your sweat-drenched neck as his cock softened in your walls. 

After about fifteen minutes, you felt Suguru starting to fill out again, his body gearing up for round two. 

And then three.

And then four. 

You lost count of how many times you had cum that night. Your tummy sported a small bump with the amount of Suguru’s seed trapped in your womb. You were so full that you couldn’t possibly take any more. And Suguru loved you like that. 

Of course, he loved you always, but this was different. He took one of his large hands and gently massaged your sore, slightly swollen belly, pressing wet kisses all around. 

“I hope our baby looks like you,” you whispered into the crown of his head. 

“I was just thinking the same thing. I hope our baby at least has your eyes. I get lost in them sometimes,” he responded. “Ya know, your eyes are probably my favorite part of you, besides your tummy. And your beautiful brain. And every other part of you.” 

“I love you so much, Suguru. I don’t think I can put it into words. You’re such a good man, so good to me. You’re gonna be the best dad one day,” you confessed.

“Hopefully, that day will be soon,” he smirked, “I’m gonna go get you water and a hot washcloth to clean you up. Want anything to eat?” 

You smiled back at him and shook your head, blowing a kiss to him before he left. 

You expected yourself to be more freaked out by his comment, “hopefully, that day will be soon,” but you couldn’t help but feel excited. Life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was so unexpected, you never knew when a mission was going to be your last. You decided it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a little mini Suguru running around, allowing the three of you to finally have the family that neither you nor Suguru ever did. 

… 

August 2007

It was a disgustingly hot day outside. You were so sweaty, you felt your clothes sticking to you, and the humidity felt as if you were walking through a sauna. 

Since it was so unbearably hot outside, you and Suguru decided it would be a nice day to go to a water park. Of course, that meant Satoru and Shoko had to tag along. 

You and Suguru were in charge of packing, as the other two would not have chosen enough food or towels for your journey. They would probably also forget things like sunscreen and umbrellas, opting to fill your beach bags with bottles of booze and sweets. You and Suguru were practically the parents of the friend group at this point; sometimes the other two would even refer to you as “mom and dad.” Suguru would give you a smirk any time this happened, reminding you of the conversation you had back in May. 

After you fought Satoru on the fact that he could not in fact take an entire box of ice cream mochi to the water park, you were set to leave on your adventure. The four of you and your bags all piled in the car of an assistant director. Excitement and easy conversation flowed through the vehicle, as all of you relished in the relief of the cool air conditioning. 

Shoko sat in the front, smoking a cigarette, choosing which CDs to play, while you sat in the back with Satoru and Suguru. Suguru, being the gentleman that he is, gave you the seat behind the driver’s side. You tried to resist, explaining that he and Satoru would have more leg room if you just sat in the middle, but Suguru insisted. 

The four of you finally arrived at the water park about an hour and a half later. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. 

As you walked through the wooden gates, the park was swarmed with families, teenagers, and college students. There were colorful slides entangled in each other at the center of the park, with a lazy river surrounding it. To the left, there was a wave pool with people attempting to surf, and to the right, there was another large pool with buckets of water that would dump on patrons randomly. The lounge chairs were spread throughout the park, and it seemed like the entirety of Japan had come to this one water park to beat the summer heat. 

“Ok guys let’s stay together and try to find some lounge chai-” 

“Shoko! I’m gonna beat you down those slides, ready?” Satoru screamed with glee, like a young child. 

“Hold on, lemme finish this,” Shoko replied, motioning to her cigarette. 

“NO! We. Are. Going. To. Sit. Down. Let’s just stay together, it’s a madhouse here,” You put your foot down. 

“If I wanted to be mothered, mother, I would have gone home for the summer,” Shoko rolled her eyes at you. You just ignored her, too bothered by the heat to even come up with a good comeback.

“I sent out a curse to go find us a spot - wait. Where’s Satoru?” Suguru chimed in.

“Let’s be logical about this. Where is the nearest ice cream stand?” You asked. 

“Ha, there he is,” Shoko nodded her head towards the nearest ice cream stand. In the line of children, there was one with white hair who was almost as tall as the stand itself. Bingo. 

You marched over to the line, and went to tug Satoru by his ear back to the group. Alas, his Infinity was on, and you could not touch him. 

“Oof, I would not wanna be him right now, that one has a temper,” Shoko joked, as she put her cigarette out over the trash can next to them, watching you and Satoru argue. In that moment, Suguru couldn’t help but stare at you, taking in how beautiful you looked against the summer sun. You were glowing, radiant, even as you berated his best friend. 

“I haven’t seen you look at someone the way you look at her.” Shoko broke Suguru’s thoughts, pulling him out of his trance. 

“Yeah.” Suguru responded, smiling. 

“Wow, you didn’t even try to deny it,” Shoko smirked back. “OOooo someone’s in looovee,” Shoko teased. 

“I am. And I’m so lucky. I love her more than anything in the world,” Suguru said with a content sigh. 

“Ok, now you’re just gonna make me vomit, that’s so sappy,” Shoko stuck out her tongue, making a fake gagging sound. 

“It’s true,” Suguru responded, still in his trance.

“What if I can treat her better than you,” Shoko teased. 

“Maybe,” he said, the slightest flicker of insecurity in his eyes. “I don’t think I deserve her sometimes. She’s not as tainted by curses and cursed energy as I am. She’s not the one who absorbs curses day after day.” He looked tired. Shoko noticed the bags under his eyes, but just as she was about to say something, you came running with Satoru’s wrist in your hand, pulling him with an ice cream cone in his hand. The ice cream was beginning to drip everywhere.

“I can’t believe they only had vanilla. What a ripoff,” Satoru sighed, annoyed. 

“You dumbass, you didn’t even get napkins!? How am I supposed to call you a functioning adult, you’re literally about to turn 19, and you didn’t even get napkins?!” You berated him again.

“Oh, looks like the curse found a place for us to sit. It’s keeping the area clear so non-sorcerers aren’t determined to sit there,” Suguru interrupted. 

You all walked towards a little spot in the shade with three lounge chairs and a table. You figured you would just share your lounge chair with Suguru and sit in his lap. Or he could use your lap as a pillow and you could braid his hair. Either worked. 

Just as you were setting out your towels on the chairs, you heard a PLOP and crying following after. A little kid had slipped and fallen down on the concrete. He used his hands to break the fall, and the skin of his palms were broken a little bit, blood splintering through the cracks. He started hysterically crying.

“Oh no, sweetie! Are you okay? Where is your grown up?” you rushed over to the kid. 

“I think I packed a first aid kit in the bag, let me get it,” Suguru added.

Of course he did, that man was prepared for the end of the world.

Suguru took an antiseptic wipe from the kit, and bent down so that he was at eye level with the kid. 

“This is probably going to sting, but it will feel better I promise. Your bathing suit is dope by the way, I love the colors,” Suguru cooed at the kid, trying to calm him down. 

“You remind me a lot of my little brother, his name is Noritoshi. He’s really brave. Are you brave like him?” you added. 

The child stopped his hysterics and let Suguru clean him up, listening to both of your kind words. He nodded his little head of pink hair at your question and pointed towards an elderly man slowly, but frantically making his way over to the kid.

“Yuji! What happened?” the old man asked.

“I falled and getted a boo-boo,” the kid, called Yuji, sniffled. 

“He slipped and hurt his hand, we have some antiseptic disinfectant and bandaids though, so we fixed him right up,” you told the man as he got closer.

“He was really brave,” Suguru added, smiling down at Yuji. 

“Thank you, so much. You two are very kind,” the man said in a monotone voice. Though his voice showed no emotion, his eyes did. His eyes looked tired, but definitely grateful to the kindness of you and Suguru. 

“Feel better, dude!” Suguru yelled to Yuji as his grandfather led him away. 

After about an hour of tanning on the lounges with Shoko, you looked to see where the boys went. It wasn’t very hard to spot the two best friends, as they were acting like children, making big waves in the lazy river. On Suguru’s shoulders, you noticed something: the kid with the pink hair from earlier. 

Suguru and Satoru were having some sort of chicken fight with him, all three of them laughing and having the time of their lives. 

“You are hopeless,” Shoko rolled her eyes, a new cigarette in between her lips. 

“What do you mean?” You replied. 

“Don’t play dumb, I know what you’re thinking,” she smirked back.

…

September 2007 

“Suguru, you look like you’ve lost weight, are you okay?” Satoru asked, as he twirled a pencil in midair with his Infinity technique. 

“Just tired,” Suguru responded. 

Over the past few weeks, Suguru had developed dark circles and bags under his eyes. He looked pale, and was often exhausted. Not too exhausted for you though, apparently. 

It seemed the two of you spent more and more time together holed up in one of your rooms when you weren’t on missions. It was just so nice in your own little world, away from everything. You didn’t have to care about who lived and who died. You only had to focus on each other. 

Satoru attempted to carry on the conversation. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” 

“You probably won’t see me for a while again.” 

“Yo, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I need to get out of here. Both of us do. We’re not fit for Jujutsu Society.” Suguru said, referring to the two of you. 

“Ha, ha, so funny.” Satoru sarcastically added. 

“It’s not a joke.” 

“What do you mean? Dude, you’re a special grade, you seriously think they’re gonna let you quit?” 

It was true. The elders wouldn’t just let Suguru run away and walk free. If he was not with Jujutsu society, he was probably against it. And letting a special grade sorcerer and his grade one partner roam free would pose a threat to the stability of the elder’s iron grip on the status quo of Jujutsu society. 

He’d have to get the elders to denounce and force you out. 

So, here you were, flying with the man who was your boyfriend, your one and only, on the back of a curse, headed out for a mission, and hopefully, some much needed seclusion with Suguru. 

… 

7:03 PM (19:03)

You and Suguru decided to split up for the mission. It had been reported that there was a sighting of two possible curse users and a separate cursed spirit. Thus, Suguru wanted to deal with the curse users, and you to deal with the curse itself. 

You exorcized the curse with ease, using piercing blood to slice the monster in half. There were a few other lower level curses, which you could have eliminated with your eyes closed. It seemed too easy. If Suguru was sent on this mission, there had to be something else, another factor. After a few minutes of patrolling for any other cursed energy residue, you decided to find your way back to Suguru. 

You found him standing outside of a small house on the outskirts of the village. He seemed out of it; he was staring right at the door, but did not enter. As you approached, you saw the strong cursed energy residue leading from the door. 

“Sug, I exorcized those curses. I know you hate the taste of swallowing them, I didn’t want to make you do that if you didn’t have to.” If Suguru heard you, he showed no acknowledgement. 

“Suguru?” You pinched the sleeve of his white collared shirt.

“Dude? Did you hear me?” You squeezed his thick bicep, pushing your manicured nails into his skin, effectively bringing him back from whatever plane of reality he was on. 

“The locals in the village told me this is the home of two little girls, twins. Their descriptions match the ones for the curse users. So…” He insinuated, leaving the rest for you to figure out. His amber eyes were dark and cold. 

“Oh.” You said. You and Suguru had both been through a lot and hated Jujutsu Society. You and Suguru had your incident with Amanai a little over a year earlier, and your uppity clan kept you from your mother, a heartbreaking decision by the family head in order to give you the best possible chance of becoming the leader of the clan. A position which you despised.

Over the past few months, in the afterglow of sex, you two would lay there, embraced in each other's arms, dreaming of a world without curses, without clans, without people to produce those curses. “Monkeys,” as Suguru referred to non-sorcerers, from which curses were created. In your and Suguru’s fantasy world, you wouldn’t even have a reason to use curse techniques. You could get married, have children, live a peaceful life without fear of a curse coming to take that happiness away.

The bottom line is you knew Jujutsu Society was unfair, but never would you think you would be asked to harm a child. What was wrong with these people? You thought of your little brother, Norotoshi, who was also six years old. He was supposed to be your “competition” for the title of family head, but you never really wanted to fight him. He was just your sweet little brother. 

How could you harm someone that is the same age as your little brother? 

A wave of nausea ran through your body as the reality of the situation dawned upon you. Suguru kneeled down on the floor with you, rubbing your back and holding your hair back as you vomited. 

“Shhh, I got you.” He wrapped you in an awkward embrace on the floor, and pressed a kiss to your sweat-sheened forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I have a plan.” Suguru’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. He smiled, but there was no emotion behind his eyes, and his voice sounded like it was coated in honey. 

His behavior was strange, but helped you to feel more at ease. Suguru gave you some hope to cling on to. 

… 

8:46 PM (20:46) 

You were both sitting on the stairs leading up to the front of the house. You were leaning on Suguru as he brushed a hand over your hair, occasionally placing a kiss on the top of your head. You had finally finished sobbing into Suguru’s chest after an hour, the teardrops staining through his white collared shirt. You felt so many emotions. Anger at the broken system. Hatred, for the Jujutsu Society elders. Confusion, for what would happen once you committed to your plan. Grief, for the people in your life that you would lose. Betrayal, from the society that was supposed to protect people. Suguru sat with you and validated your feelings, making you feel like you and your emotions were the only things in this world that matter. 

The plan was simple. You were both going to defect. 

Both you and Suguru were sick and tired of the way the world functioned. You were sick of watching comrades, comrades who were teenagers, who were children, die. 

During one of your late night conversations, Suguru once said, 

“If being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is like running a marathon…

What if what’s at the end of that road…

Is a mountain of our fellow sorcerers’ dead corpses.”

In that moment, Suguru had played it off as some dark joke, but part of you knew that he was right. 

As for the plan, you two were to wait until some of the elders of the village led you into the small house, as they apparently kept multiple locks on it to keep the supposed dangerous young girls at bay. Then, you were going to take the young sorcerers on the back of one of Suguru’s curses and run to Kyoto and find somewhere to stay for the night. Suguru said he would “take care of the rest.” You trusted him with your whole being, even if that meant him ending the lives of a few non-sorcerers. It would serve them right for causing the very existence of curses. 

…

9:01 PM (21:01)

The two elders from the village arrived shortly after. You took Suguru’s hand and shared a reassuring glance, his thumb rubbing gently over your hand as if to say, it’s going to be okay. Shaking with exhaustion, anxiety, and some of the nausea from earlier,  you slowly made your way up the stairs as the elders parted the shoji doors. The building seemed to be one long room with some sort of wooden cage at the end, almost like the house was made to hold animals at some point. 

The building was dimly lit, but you could see the outline of two small figures huddled together in the center of the wooden cage. Your stomach turned once again, and you tightly squeezed Suguru’s hand.

“What is this?” Suguru firmly questioned, his free hand going up to brush his bangs away. 

The two of you stepped closer to the makeshift prison, and the two small figures were shaking. As you made your way towards the children, they had obviously been beaten. They were covered in dry blood, scratches and bruises. They both had one black eye. 

How could these children, these SIX year olds, legally be kept like this? THESE were the scary curse users that were terrorizing this village? It was disgusting. 

“My grandchild was on the verge of death because of these two,” spit the woman who led you in.

“These two use strange powers and often attack the villagers.” defended the other man in your presence.

Suguru dropped your hand and squatted down to be at eye level with the girls, pinching his nose bridge between his pointer finger and thumb. 

“So you mean to tell me that you monkeys think that these little girls, these children are responsible for the incidents that have been occuring, is that correct?” Suguru grumbled, his voice icy and dangerous. 

“I already dealt with the cause of the incidents, they’re innocent children, what is wrong with you people,” you cried. You were full of rage, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

One of the young girls, clutching a well-loved stuffed animal, bravely spoke up and declared, “We didn’t mean to hurt anyone on purpose, they were trying to-”

“SHUT UP YOU MONSTERS!” The elder woman screamed. 

“Your parents were the same. I knew we should have killed you when you were born,” the man added. 

“Exactly, twins are bad luck. We should have known better,” the elder woman snorted. 

Suguru looked down at the girls and whispered something that would not have been obvious to someone who did not know him as well as you did, “It’ll be okay.”

He started drawing a curse from his arsenal of cursed spirits, and gave you a nod. The signal to go ahead with the plan. 

That same silky smooth, almost frighteningly nice, voice that Suguru only used when he was especially angry. 

“Let’s step outside for a second, shall we?” Suguru tutted, producing the same pink cursed spirit you flew on to get to the village. He walked out the door with the two older adults and shot you a glance. 

I’d end the world for you. 

It was the same expression he bore when you confessed your love for each other, all of those months ago. 

The girls immediately stood up when they sighted the curse. They were terrified, understandably so. You moved towards the thick metal lock of the wooden cage and knelt down.

“Hey girls, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help. You’re safe. I know it must seem so scary right now, but me and the other man you saw me with are going to get you out of here.”

You told them your name, and assured them that you were like them. Using your piercing blood to cut through the thick lock, you explained to them about your technique and talked to them about your little brother to keep them (and yourself) calm. 

As soon as the lock broke, the girls ran to you and hugged you tightly. They were shaking, crying, and clinging to your body. A series of thank you’s flooded from their mouths, and you kissed the top of their heads, attempting to dry their tears away. 

“The pink curse over here is going to take us to safety. Suguru, that man who’s talking to them, is also a sorcerer, and he’ll meet us wherever we get to.” you explained. 

You sat the girls on the curse side by side, and then climbed in back of them to make sure they did not fall. Using Supernova, you blasted a hole through the roof, and the cursed spirit started to levitate off of the ground. Quickly, you gained altitude and left the village behind. You covered the girls eyes as you looked back, just to see what was happening. The entrance to the house was ablaze and you could make out Suguru’s cursed spirits crawling throughout the village. 

Shit. Well, there wasn’t any turning back now. 

… 

The Next Morning

Overnight, you had flown the girls to a small hostel on the outskirts of Osaka. You purchased a small, private room for the three of you to stay in. 

As the sky turned from a deep purple to a ombré of orange and blue, nausea from the previous evening returned in full force. You held yourself over the toilet as you threw up what felt like your entire gut. You stayed like that until you heard four small feet walk into the bathroom behind you. 

With the light properly shining on them, you got to see how truly filthy they were. The girl, who called herself Mimiko, had short brown hair that was knotted, matted, and crinkled with dry blood. Her sister, Nanako, was not faring much better. Her blonde curls were also matted, and there was crusted blood left on her forehead. They both were covered from head to toe in bruises, had dark circles around their eyes, and seemed to be alarmingly skinny. 

“Um… are you okay?” Nanako asked. You took a deep breath, happy to focus on something other than your churning stomach for a moment. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think it’s just nerves.” You answered. 

“Let’s worry about you two, I’ll run you a bath, then we can go to the 7/11 across the way and pick up some food. Sound good?” You declared. 

Mimiko’s stomach rumbled. “I think your belly answered for you, Mimiko,” you chuckled softly. 

… 

While the girls bathed, you went down to the Lost and Found of the hostel and grabbed a few items that looked like they would fit the twins: some hoodies, leggings, and a skirt. You also fixed yourself up, washing the vomit out of your mouth and splashing your face with hot water from the sink. 

Once the girls looked decent enough to go outside without raising suspicion, the three of you ventured out to the 7/11 across the street. 

The smell of food was a welcome scent as you walked up and down the rows of food, snacks, and other items. You grabbed whatever you thought a few six year olds would like, and on your way to the cashier, something caught your eye. A row of 100 yen pregnancy tests and other feminine care products. Whether it be a metaphorical gut feeling or the actual nausea that had persisted for the last few days, something told you to purchase a stick to pee on, just in case.You snuck the test into the pile of items you and the girls were purchasing. 

When the three of you got to the hostel, the girls scarfed their food down, and you tried to take little nibbles and sips of water. You put the twins down for a nap. 

You tried your best not to think about Suguru. You didn’t know what to think of him anymore. The man you spoke to the previous night could not have been your boyfriend. The Suguru you knew would never kill without a point. He would never just murder an entire village of people. 

You hoped and prayed that you were wrong. That he didn’t actually harm anyone and just showed off his curses to teach the people of the village a lesson.

Wait.

What if he was killed? 

It was all so confusing. You loved Suguru. He’s the one person who seemed to have love for you, besides your younger brother. 

Noritoshi. A pang of guilt wracked through your frame, heightening the gurgling of your stomach. 

If he murdered those non-sorcerers…you would have been deemed an accomplice. 

 So…

What would he think? 

Your baby brother?

Would he be okay? 

He’s a boy with an inherited technique in the Kamo clan. But would people look out for him? Would they keep him from your mother as well? 

In your spiral of thoughts, you noticed the 7/11 bag on the counter and remembered the supplies you bought earlier that day. You grabbed it as quietly as possible, as to not wake the girls, and stepped into the bathroom, clutching the goods inside. Your hands were shaking from lack of food over the past day and a half, but as carefully as you could, you retrieved the pregnancy test from the bag. 

The box was small, but felt so heavy in your hand. 

Why not? It probably won’t be positive, you told yourself. 

Why do I have to convince myself it won’t be positive, you thought. 

You know what, it will get my brain off of Noritoshi and Suguru for a bit, you reasoned, pulling apart the tucked in top of the box. 

After you fully unwrapped it, you read the directions, and followed suit. You put the test in the cup on the sink of the bathroom, and walked out to see the clock in the room. You waited five minutes until the results developed. 

Wait…this was probably a bad idea.

What were you thinking? 

This was so stupid why would you go and do this in the first place? 

You needed to get some air, your chest felt tight. You felt the nausea creeping back again. 

Suguru, where are you? 

You grabbed a room key off of the counter and slowly walked out into the hallway, desperately trying to keep yourself from waking the girls. One of the first things that caught your eye in the hallway was a vending machine. 

Maybe some soda would help settle your stomach? 

You walked over to the machine and plucked a few coins from your pocket, listening to them clink through the slot. You selected a Ginger Ale and Coke, reasoning that if you didn’t drink it, Suguru would when he got back.

If he got back. 

No. You can’t think like that. 

You took as long as you could getting back to the room, stepping on every other square of the carpeted floors, trying to ground yourself back to reality somehow. You arrived at the door a few minutes later and opened the door. 

The windows in your room were wide open, allowing a little breeze to blow the curtains. You dropped both bottles of soda. 

You had locked the windows before leaving the room. You made sure of it. 

You panicked, running for the girls to make sure they were okay. Alas, they were sleeping soundly, no new scratches or blood on them. 

You turned your attention to the bathroom, where the door was closed and you heard some rustling. 

Slowly making your way towards the door, you lined up your piercing blood technique, in case you were about to be attacked. 

“Baby, is that you?” you heard from the other side of the door. 

“Suguru.” You didn’t know if you should be more frightened or relieved. 

Part of you wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and kiss the scratches and dried blood away from him. Other than that, he looked relatively unharmed. His usual neat bun was not apparent on the top of his head, instead he let his hair hang loose, his bangs tied up in a messy half-up-half-down. He was dressed in all black, a dark oversized crew neck and baggy black sweats. As insinuated by the dark bags under his eyes, he didn’t look like he had eaten or slept in the past day or two. 

“Whose blood is that? Yours? Or someone else’s.” 

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Answer.” 

“Doll, what’s wrong?”

“Suguru, are you okay?”

“My love, I took care of everything. We’ll be safe for the next few days, alright. We just have to lay low for a little while.” 

“Suguru, answer me.” 

“Shhh, everything is okay, doll. Your body's working overtime right now, and the pregnancy hormones can’t be helping.”

What? 

You stared at him. No way. 

“That test is your’s, right?” he questioned, his face filled with concern. “It’s positive.” 

You stared at him, then at the test. It was. 

“I- I’m gonna be a dad,” Suguru’s face cracked into a sincere smile. 

He picked you up and spun you around, planting kisses all over your head and face. 

“And you’re gonna be a mom! To my baby. Our baby. You’re gonna be the best mommy, you're so good with kids.” 

You stayed silent; you were still processing everything that just happened. 

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he cradled your face gently in his hands. 

You stood frozen, thinking of words to say, but they never made it out of your mouth. Your vision went blurry with water, and the churning feeling you had been trying too hard to suppress returned to your stomach. You gagged, running over to the toilet. 

As you held yourself over the bowl, your body felt like it was trying to expel all of your organs out through your mouth. Suguru leapt to your side and held your hair back as you threw up, rubbing soothing circles into your back. 

“Shhh, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out, this is just one of the best things that’s ever happened.” Suguru cooed. 

You took a deep breath and wiped any stray vomit from your lips with the back of your hand. 

As you hurled your guts out, you felt his large, warm hand, rubbing circles on the small of your back. The other of his hands went to hold your hair out of your face. 

You stayed like that for about an hour, just sitting there, pondering your impending motherhood. 

Mother. 

You were going to be a mother. 

It simultaneously freaked you out and surprised you. Suguru, the person you loved most in this world, actually got you pregnant. Of course he did. He always stuck to his word.

When that man was committed to something, he was going to have it. He was possessive, territorial even. That made him all the more dangerous, but it wasn’t him you were afraid of or for. You were afraid for the rest of the world. 

I’d end the world for you. 

His promise echoed in the back of your mind. 

“Sweetheart, it is going to be okay. I think I may have gotten too overexcited and freaked you out. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, I’m here for whatever you need. But, thank you. Thank you for this precious gift.” 

It was a gift that forever linked the two of you together. 

… 

September 2007

You found her waiting on a bench in the center of Shinjuku, trying to find something in her pockets, probably a lighter for her cigarette. 

“Hey, need a light?” Suguru asked, offering out a lighter. 

“Hi,” you waved shyly. 

“If it isn’t the criminals, trolling girls who smoke?” Shoko replied

“Just testing our luck I guess, '' Suguru joked. 

“Mmhmm, well, I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are fake?” 

“No, unfortunately not

“Then I’ll ask another question, why?” 

“To create a world of only Jujutsu Sorcerers,” 

“We don’t want anymore of our comrades to die,” you doubled down on Suguru’s point. 

“Ha, that doesn’t make sense, but whatever,” Shoko said, picking up her phone and dialing a number. Someone on the other line answered. 

“Hey, Gojo? 

Yeah, found ‘em. 

Shinjuku. 

No way, I don’t wanna get killed.” She said before quickly hanging up.

“Do you have the thing we talked about?” Suguru asked before walking towards the area his best friend was said to be.

“Yes, I’ve got her,” Shoko looked into his eyes, 

“Okay, I love you,” Suguru said, placing a kiss on your forehead and walking off. 

Shoko put her cigarette out. 

“Shoko I’m okay, just, um, okay how do I put this…” 

“Dude, spit it out, you're scaring me.” 

“I’m pregnant.” you blurted out. 

“Shit.” the mousy brunette replied. 

 “No, it’s okay, really, I’m happy, we’re happy, just…scared - ” 

“Did you not use protection? You of all people? The mom friend? Well, now, I guess literal mom friend,” Shoko put her hands in her hair, scrunching it out of stress, “And you’re a fugitive! Both you and Geto have been sentenced to death by the elders. Jesus Christ Y/N, how the fuck are you going to raise a child as a fucking criminal.” 

“I’m sorry Shoko, I-I couldn’t,” your last word was muffled by the huge lump in your throat. You knew Shoko of all people would rip you a new one, but you didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Tears clouded your vision, and you were sobbing so violently, that you started to choke on the snot and water running down your face. People were staring. 

“Woah, dude. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here now,” Shoko reached down to wipe some of the snot off of your face with the sleeve of her uniform. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up, I have some supplies that I brought in my bag.” 

Shoko grabbed your hand and led you into the nearby metro station. You rushed past the crowds of people, until you made your way into the gate. Shoko kept leading you further underground until you reached a room that was sectioned off for mothers and infants. 

“Get inside, we shouldn’t be bothered in here for a while,” Shoko stated, her tone gentle. You walked in, and she locked the door behind you. 

The room was small, but cozy. There was an infant changing table to the right, and to the left, there was a small blue couch with a table next to it. There were a few blankets packaged in sanitary wrappers laying on the side of the couch, and the room was decorated with pastel flowers all around. You felt completely safe for the first time in a while. 

“Sit,” Shoko commanded. You complied and took a seat on the couch. 

“I got one of those portable ultrasound things from the infirmary. I don’t know why we have these things but, hey, it’s coming in handy.” 

“How did you know to bring an ultrasound kit with you?” you asked suspiciously. 

“Oh, Geto told me to bring one. So, I kind of already figured you were pregnant, or you had some kind of internal bleeding. But with the way he was being so secretive, I figured the former.” Shoko replied, fiddling with the machine. It looked like a tiny foldable computer, the probe attached to a wire that fed into the screen. 

She KNEW???

“If you knew, then why the fuck did you make me say it out loud?” you demanded. 

“Because I needed to be sure this wasn’t a trick or something to kill me,” she shot back, “If ya didn’t know, your boyfriend -” 

“Fiancé -” 

“Fiancé, whatever, killed an entire village of people.” 

“I know, but he did what he had to do. We’re trying to make the world a better place, a place without curses, so you don’t have to keep seeing people die.” You refuted. 

“I’m not talking to you about this right now, I’m here to make sure you and the fetus inside of you are okay. You chose your path, and I chose mine. I’m not trying to change your mind, what’s done is done. I don’t support what you two did, but you’re still my best friend. I’m here for you,” Shoko finished and scooched on the couch to give you a hug. You were crying again, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. 

After five minutes, you two finally parted, and Shoko reached into her bag to produce some supplies. She pulled out sanitizer, a bottle of gel, a pair of gloves, and a little blue cloth. Shoko sanitized her hands, and gave some to you as well. She then put the pair of gloves on and asked you to pull up your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Finally, she tucked the blue cloth into your pants, so that the gel would not get on it. 

“This might feel cold. I also don’t really know if I’m doing this 100% right, so, you should probably find someone with a medical degree and not just reverse curse technique to look at you,” Shoko added, the usual banter reappearing between you two. 

She squeezed some of the cold jelly-like substance on your abdomen. You winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Shoko took the end of the probe and started gently pushing it around on your stomach. After about a minute, something appeared on the little screen. 

Woah. 

That’s your kid. Your and Suguru’s baby. You started crying again. 

You loved them already, and only wished Suguru could have been here to see this. 

“Yeah, there’s a whole-ass kid in there,” Shoko confirmed.

“As opposed to a half-ass kid?” You joked. Shoko laughed. 

Next, Shoko reached into her bag, producing a thick textbook. She turned to a page that was marked by brightly-colored post-it notes. 

“Okay, based on this development textbook, you’re probably about 9 to 10 weeks along. Can you use your technique and give me a blood sample fast?” 

9 to 10 weeks. 

That’s a lot farther along than you thought. 

You took a deep breath. “Okay,” and slowly produced a handful of blood from your palm, dropping it with a PLOP into the test tube Shoko held out for you. 

“I’ll run a test on this once I get back to the infirmary at school, I just wanna check your hGC levels to make sure they’re good. But in the meantime, start taking these,” she produced yet another item from her bag. “They’re prenatal vitamins. Also, I know Geto has to have some connections somewhere with doctors. Have him find one for you. I can check on you once in a while, but not all the time or it will get suspicious. I love you, but I’m also an eighteen-year-old who doesn’t have a medical degree yet. I’ll leave first with Satoru to make sure there aren’t any sorcerers around so that you and Geto can escape. Stay safe and healthy, please,” 

“Safe and healthy, coming from the chainsmoker?” You joked. 

Shoko rolled her eyes as she gave you a final hug, exiting the room, leaving you alone with the bag of medical supplies and textbook. 

… 

Mid January, 2008 

As the months passed, you did not think it possible, yet you fell deeper in love with Suguru. He doted on you and the twins constantly, spoiling you with gifts, having his followers help construct a lavish living space for you in the back of the monastery. Mimiko and Nanako shared a large room, their western-style four poster beds were adorned with silks and all of the stuffed animals they could desire. They had large walk-in closets full of dress-up gowns and expensive designer brands.

“Only the best for my girls,” Suguru would say. 

As for you, he had a beautiful master suite built, the double walk-in closet filled with comfortable, yet elegant, maternity clothing and a California king bed dwarfing the rest of the room. The walls were painted white with navy and gold accents throughout the room. 

When he was not tending to his cult, Suguru also kept you close to him as much as possible. Sometimes, he would even have you sit with him as you both tended to his followers throughout the day, him consuming their curses and you collecting their money. 

Though he saw you as an equal, he was still overly protective and territorial of you now that you were carrying his child. He would sit you down on his lap in front of your followers, his hands caressing your now-evident baby bump, proclaiming to both you and the people in the cult that you were a goddess among mere mortals. When the monastery was empty, sometimes he would just sit and hold you, breathing in your scent. You would sit like that for an hour sometimes, him feeling the baby kick against his large palms, trailing kisses up and down your nape. You would curl yourself up as much as you could to put your ear to his chest, his heartbeat drumming with excitement.  

When you weren’t helping Suguru, you were with the twins. Playing with them, going on walks, teaching them little things about the world that they missed while living in that cursed village. They were really excited to have a new sibling and talked about all of the clothes they would dress the new baby in. You had to remind them, of course, that the baby was not a doll. They also threw out name suggestions, but you had to tell them that unfortunately, “Princess,” and “Hello Kitty,” were not appropriate names to call their soon to be baby sibling. 

At the end of your long days tending to the needs of non-sorcerers that were actually useful to your cause, Suguru would have you both change out of your robes and start to cook dinner while you played with the girls. True, he could have hired someone to cook for your little family, but he wanted to take it upon himself to make sure that you were getting all of the nutrients and rest you and the twins possibly could. 

You somehow succeeded in carving out a nice life for yourself under the harshest of circumstances. Sure, it wasn’t the utopia you and Suguru had always imagined all of those nights back at Jujutsu High, but you had a little family of your own and were working towards a better, safer world. 

… 

After he finished tucking the girls into bed one night, you curled up with Suguru on the couch, your head tucked against his chest, and knees in between his hips, using him as a body pillow. One of his hands was around you and the other was used to cradle his head on the arm of the couch as you both laid there. 

None of your pre-maternity pants fit you anymore, so you threw on a pair of Suguru’s gray sweats and a white t-shirt. You practically lived in his clothes at this point. 

He started rubbing small, gentle circles on your swollen belly, seemingly in awe of your changing body. If you ever got insecure about your stretch marks, or how much weight you gained, he would make you stand in front of the mirror in your shared chambers, kissing every inch of your body. In the shower, he would take the time to wash your hair and help you shave. He wanted to let you know that you weren’t alone. Suguru was right there the whole time. 

You felt a fluttering in your stomach where he was rubbing your belly, and Suguru gasped, breaking the serene silence. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispered to your bump. Joy flashed through his tired eyes as his lips curved into a dopey smile. Then, he leaned up to press sweet, wet kisses into your neck. 

“The most beautiful woman in the world. How did I get so lucky?” Suguru cooed. 

“You’re stunning,” he continued, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. 

Since falling pregnant, you were sensitive to the slightest touch. Your fiancé was sensitive to the slightest glance from you. Your sexual appetites had grown increasingly insatiable. 

From his words and kisses, you could feel yourself drenching your underwear. As Suguru’s tongue continued to slither into your mouth, you absentmindedly started grinding against his muscled thigh, the friction feeling delicious on your clit. 

“Ngh- Sugu- p-please touch me. No teasing. Need you,” you moaned. 

“Do you need my fingers? I bet I can take you right now from how soaked you are,” he purred. 

“Don’t care. Want something inside,” you whined. 

“Lemme check you first. Don’t wanna hurt you.” And with that, he felt your soaked, clothed cunt through your pants and underwear. You were so wet, that a dark, sticky patch was starting to form on your sweatpants. You nearly ripped the pants off of you in the midst of your carnal need to have some part of him, any part of him, filling you. 

Suguru got right to work, stripping you of the layers concealing you from him. After a few circles on your clit, he sunk his middle finger into your cunt. There was no resistance; he was able to sink his finger all the way down to his knuckle. So, he added a second finger, which you took just as easily. 

You felt relieved to finally have something for your fluttering hole to suck on, but you needed more. You needed to be stuffed to the brim, completely full of him. 

“Suguru I need you inside,” you gasped, your cunt continuing to clench on his thick fingers. 

“Whatever you want, my love,” he replied, slipping his fingers out. You almost cried at the loss of contact, but you knew you were about to be rewarded tenfold. Suguru pushed his sticky fingers into your mouth as he rearranged the two of you. You licked his fingers clean, and he let out an unrestrained moan at the way you deepthroated his digits. 

Suguru sat you up, and scooted himself against the back of the sofa. He took his length out from his underwear, letting it smack his stomach, the tip weeping precum. Suguru removed his fingers from your mouth and used the remaining spit to cover his cock; a makeshift lube for the two of you. While he stroked himself, you climbed up on his lap and attacked his mouth with fiery, desperate kisses. 

He helped you remove your top, and then shed his remaining clothing articles. When he took your top off, you could tell that Suguru’s thoughts about the day had gone out the window. Suguru always had a fascination with your tits, now even more so that your tits had grown at least 2 cup sizes since pregnancy. He took one of your pert nipples into his mouth, sucking softly and grinding up into your wet heat, letting a grunt rumble through his chest.  

“Love, please,” you cried out, tears threatening to spill down your face.

With your pleading, he helped you to climb on top of him and lined his cock up with your greedy cunt. You slowly sunk down on his dick, feeling every ridge and vein inside of you. You both hissed as he breached your tight hole. 

Finally, you thought. 

Suguru resumed his sucking on your nipple, moaning around your soft mound, sending vibrations through your body. You were so overstimulated and sensitive that you felt like you were about to cum right there and then. 

He could feel that you were close by the death grip you had on his cock. So, he reached one of his large hands down from your waist and found your clit. You sunk your nails into his wide shoulders in response. 

“Give it to me,” Suguru growled on his way to give your other nipple the same treatment. 

The coil in your tummy snapped, the sensations driving you hard into your climax. Suguru moved to nibble on your earlobe, whispering what a good girl you were. 

As you came down from your high, Suguru’s hands moved down to your bump, staring in awe. 

“I told you I love this tummy,” he commented, his large hand splaying across your bellybutton. He pressed his forehead against yours. “I think it’s so beautiful, that your body submitted to mine.” 

“Mr. Geto,” you said with a fake gasp, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re getting off on my predicament, you pervert.” 

“Touché,” he smirked. “I think it’s hot your body is going through all of these changes, just because of me. You’re mine,” he growled out the last words. 

“I’m yours,” you confirmed. 

“Suguru, I’m tired, I don’t know if I have the energy to ride you like this.” You realized he still hadn’t cum yet, he was probably in pain with the deep arousal he felt. 

“Okay, I’ll carry you to bed and we can finish there,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and slipped out of you, your juices trailing behind in a sticky string where you were formerly connected 

He then picked you up, bridal style, and started the short walk towards your room. The cool air felt sensitive against your hot pussy and swollen clit, your arousal and cum now rolling in small beads down the back of your thighs. 

He set you on your side on top of your California king mattress, covered in fine fabric sheets. Then, he took one of the large decorative pillows and pushed it in between your knees to allow him easy access to your cunt. This position would also allow some relief to your aching lower back. Suguru knew you loved it when he massaged your back, so he started there, pushing circles into the sore muscle and kissing up your spine. 

His erection rubbed up against the back of your thighs, rendering the both of you delirious. 

When you both couldn’t take it anymore, he finally slipped into your warm, wet heat again. 

“How would you like me to fuck you, love?” Suguru questioned. 

“Slow and deep. Wanna feel all of you,” you drooled.

“Mmm, sounds perfect,” he responded, pressing wet kisses into your neck. With that, Suguru started a long, deep thrust into the depths of your pussy. You felt every part of him; every ridge, every vein. You made a sound that you didn’t even know could come out of you. 

Suguru picked up the pace a little bit, leaving little whimpers and groans in your ear as he rutted into you. Suguru was usually pretty reserved during sex, but he recently started to be more vocal for you. It spurred you on even more, made you even more aroused, which felt impossible at this point. 

“I love it when you whimper-nGHH,” you moaned, as Suguru punctuated the end of your sentence with a particularly harsh thrust. The sex started to feel desperate, animalistic almost. Suguru felt something primal within him snap. He needed to fill you, to stuff you so full, he would watch his cum leak out of your pussy. 

“Suugguuhh-“ you felt your second orgasm of the night closing in on you. 

“Cum with me, doll, lemme fill you, ngh, u-up,” he grunted, moving a hand down to toy with your clit. “You look s-so good, full of me. Ngh- your tummy all round, tits all plump, making milk for my m-my baby,”

For some reason, that sent you over the edge, clamping down on his cock and coming hard. Your cunt sucked him in with a firm grip, and you could feel that he was close too. As he continued to fuck you through your climax, his heavy balls slapped once more against your thighs, and he came with a gasp, a series of, “I love you’s” and “Thank you’s” flooding from his mouth. 

He fucked himself through his orgasm, and finally collapsed into the mattress. After a few minutes, Suguru pulled out, watching in awe as his release dripped out of your hole. His fingers traveled down to the mess the two of you made and swiped his pointer and middle fingers through your folds. 

“I probably sound like a broken record, but I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve you,” he said, kissing the top of your head, moving both of his hands to rest on your bump again. 

“C'mon, let’s clean you up, doll,” he said, trying to drag you out of bed. But you were already fast asleep. 

Suguru smiled to himself, running to the bathroom to get some warm compresses and clean towels. When he finished cleaning you up as best he could, he made his way to his closet, where he fetched his favorite graphic t-shirt. He handled you with more care than he would a butterfly or a flower as he dressed you, and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

After he deemed himself decent enough, Suguru walked over to your sleeping form and bent down to the level where your belly was. He criss crossed his hands and rested his chin on them. 

“I love you and your mommy so much, little one. You’re so loved already,” he whispered, reaching one of his hands towards your belly. 

Suddenly, he felt a small fluttering beneath his hand. Suguru smiled, his eyes alive with pride and wonder.

… 

The next morning, you awoke to the smell of something delicious. 

And four little feet running across the floor.

“Shhh, Nanako, you’re gonna wake up Kamo-san,” Mimiko warned her sister. 

“It’s okay girls, I’m already up,” you sighed, yawning. “You girls sleep good?” 

“Yeah. Can we get crepes today?” Nanako asked, changing topics rather quickly. 

“It depends on what time me and Suguru get done at the monastery, but there should be enough time. The baby has been craving some chocolate,” you chuckled.

“I have a new name for the baby,” Mimiko declared, starting to climb on your bed.

“Oh, yeah? What?” You scoop her up and bring her into your lap somewhat successfully. 

“Peach. Like the princess,” Mimiko said, matter of factly. She looked down right proud of herself. 

“Mimiko, that’s a fruit. I think it should be Sparkles,” Nanako responded back to her sister. 

“Well, we’ll have time to think about what the baby’s name should be, but for right now…I think we should eat some breakfast and see who can get dressed the fastest,” 

“Geto-san made some breakfast,” Mimiko stated. 

“And I helped,” Nanako exclaimed, attempting to have her voice heard in the conversation.

“I helped too,” Mimiko scolded with jealousy. 

“Why don’t you girls go help set the table too and I’ll be there in a minute,” you said, pressing kisses to their foreheads. 

“Fineee,” Mimiko rolled her eyes playfully. 

You freshened up, brushing your teeth and wrapping your body in a luxurious silk robe Suguru had purchased for you. 

As you made your way down the long corridor and into the kitchen, you could hear the sizzle of something cooking. You turned the corner to find Suguru, shirtless, standing over the stove of your enormous kitchen. You decide to sneak up on him, letting your finger creep around his waist as you pulled him back into a hug. You couldn’t press yourself flush against him, as your stomach got in the way. 

“There’s my girl,” Suguru cooed. 

“You’re making breakfast?” You beamed with tears in your eyes at the stack of American-style pancakes next to the stove. For some reason, this small gesture was making you really emotional. 

“Of course, baby. I let the chef take off this morning to spend some time with my beautiful girls before I have to head over,” he replied, snaking his arm back to grab on to yours and place a kiss on your palm.

It was so domestic. It was so normal. 

“Okay, order’s up. Mimi, Nana, will you help me put these on the table?” Suguru asked.

“Yes Geto-san,” Mimiko sang as she skipped towards the tower of the fluffy, golden deliciousness. 

“Thank you, sweetie,” Suguru whispered, giving her hair a ruffle. 

…

After the pancakes were eaten, and the syrup had ended up on the faces of the twins and Suguru, you pried the girls out of their seats to get dressed for the day. You and Suguru headed back to your quarters to change into your robes. 

As you let the luscious silk fabric cascade off of your body as down to the floor of your shared closet space, you felt the presence of your fiancé behind you. 

“Hi,” he smirked into your shoulder, starting to press kisses up your neck. 

“Hi,” you whispered back. 

One of his large hands reached down to your bump, caressing it with the lightest of touches. 

“Can I listen to her?” He asked like a giddy child. 

“My love, you never have to ask, you’re always welcome to,” you beam as he excitedly makes his way towards your protruding bump. “Baby’s been hanging out towards the bottom today if you want to feel them move,” you added. 

“Hi baby girl, this is your da-” 

“Baby girl? What makes you think the baby's a girl?”

“What makes you think she’s not?” he quipped, his usual banter-like tone making you giggle. 

“As a wise man once said to me; touché.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, soaking in each other’s presence. After all, slow moments like this would be rare when the baby arrived. 

Your peace was disrupted by a loud knock at the door. 

“Geto-sama, Kamo-san, there is someone here to see you, he says it is urgent” you heard Suguru’s assistant shout through the door. 

“Tell whoever it is that they have no right to request my presence. I will meet with them when I am in my proper attire,” Suguru snapped. 

“Of course, master. It’s just… this kid…” 

“No exceptions, I don’t care if it’s Satoru fucking Gojo himself, whoever it is can wait,” Suguru pressed, getting annoyed now. 

“Yes, of course, I wi-AHHHHHH,” a blood curdling scream erupted from the other side of the door, followed by a loud thump. 

Sensing danger, Suguru leapt into action, putting himself in front of you and summoning a curse. “Who’s. There,” he demanded. 

Blood started to leak under the door and into the marble tiles of your room. 

Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal the collapsed assistant on the floor, covered in her own blood. Next to the body, there was the figure of a small boy drenched in the scarlet substance. 

“Noritoshi?” you questioned, tears filling your eyes.

…

END OF PART I

dividers by @bunnysrph

[gluion]

safe haven (how much longer do we have?) ➵ leehan

leehan x reader, slight sungho x reader

you can only hope for more tomorrows with leehan.

genre/warnings ➵ strangers to lovers, heavy angst with a happy ending, touch of fluff, gender-neutral reader, reader is shorter than leehan and sungho, lowercase intended, apocalypse au, hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), depictions of grief, descriptions of gore/blood, use of guns, allusions and discussions of suicide, minor character deaths, sungho is your ex, myungjae and taesan appearance :’), elements of the last of us (don’t support neil druckmann!), mostly written in past tense (because u’re remembering!)

word count ➵ 6.2k words

inspired by ➵ “anaheim” by niki, “are you happy?” by wavesmp3, “love wins all” by iu, episode three of hbo’s the last of us, and “you’re gonna carry that weight” quote from cowboy bebop

a/n ➵ i really love this piece with everything in me so i thought i'd release it to bonedoblr as well!! you can check out the jacob & taerae versions as well. if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

time was the one thing that occupied everyone’s minds. it held value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and people revolved their lives around it.

questions flew around with every tick and tock—what day is it today? when’s your next doctor’s appointment? how long has it been since you’ve last seen your friends from high school? until when does this meeting last? 

as the hands of the clock continue to rotate, the calendar pages would flip along. birthdays were celebrated with every revolution as candles on cakes were lit up, awaiting the puff of celebrants as they wished for their desires. holidays were ones to look forward to; people dressed up to celebrate periods of the year that mattered to them while others slept in until noon. and days were spent counting down until graduations, where caps with tassels would fly to the expanse of blue and orange as cheers and sobs sound throughout.

but now, no one keeps track of time. clocks stopped moving and calendars weren’t produced annually. once the surge of the infected took over, grabbing on humans—taking them away from the lives they’ve lived—everyone ran like they were running out of time. with every second that passes, people are ridden with possibilities of how they might bid farewell to life itself—would it be through the hands of the infected or their own?

now, only one question echoes within their minds: how long do we have?

yet, the clock continues—tick, tock, tick, tock. it keeps going, and going, and going, like how everyone expects it. while everyone seemed to let time go, you still kept track of it all: birthdays, holidays, a graduation you never had.

the outbreak hit two years ago on the day of sungho’s graduation. cheers turned into screams. white togas and diplomas were splattered with red. the lively became lifeless.

you remember sungho’s hand in yours, fingers gripping you as if you were his life, as you charged out of the gymnasium, legs keeping up with the speed of his. you darted off to nowhere as images of the infected tearing people apart took up every block, all the way from skin to bone.

and while it was a rush of tragedies, sungho was the only hope you had.

“keep your eyes on me,” he glanced at you, “don’t look at them. only look at me.”

it was impossible to ignore the wails that filled your ears, but you would repeat his words—his soft-spoken voice—to drown them out.

by nightfall, you and sungho found yourselves in a motel room, skin cleaned from blood splatters and dressed in clothes that engulfed your figures, and in each other’s arms on a twin-sized bed. the duvet that wrapped around you two is thin, not at all keeping you warm for the night, but the warmth of sungho was enough to provide you a sense of security—stability amidst the ever-changing world.

he whispered into the crown of your head, words meant to dispel your fears, all while you sobbed into his shirt. there was nothing that he could do but stay strong for you.

and for a few days, that room acted as your safe haven. the time spent within those four walls is the life you imagined your future with sungho. it would’ve been in a two-story house with a garden where a singular orange tree stands, lounging on the couch as you played movies to fall asleep to, but all you had was an old room with a carpeted floor with unrecognizable stains and a bathroom unable to fit two.

yet, you would choose this over anything. even if it meant eating instant noodles for every meal or sleeping on a mattress that ruins your backs, you would choose this if it meant sungho would be with you.

still, time continues to move. sungho knew that you both couldn’t stay in that room or else the infected may reach you. so when you both went to bed on that last night, you outlined his features from the space between his eyebrows all the way to his lips, and you spent that time memorizing his warmth to carry with you for the rest of your life. you could only hope that he stays with you until the end.

after a month passed, you and sungho met jaehyun, an injured boy who only wanted to live. at first, sungho was hesitant to take the stranger in, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to live with the idea of abandoning someone in need. in a world where the infected have taken over, it only seemed right to help out others; save them from a fate they’re not ready to meet.

what started off as a pair turned into a trio. you’ve learned more about what it takes to survive in this life. long gone is the need for money to buy necessities; you need to scavenge for supplies if you want to live in an infected-ridden world. thanks to jaehyun, you and sungho got to learn about how to find them in every building that you pass on the journey.

but it’s not enough to know where to find food and bullets. sungho decided that it was only right to teach you how to use a gun. with every morning that came, you two spent hours learning how to hold, reload, and fire.

“don’t worry,” he told you as his chin hovered over your shoulder. you both stared at the tin can situated on a stack of boxes only a few meters away. “you won’t have to worry about fighting alone. i’ll be here with you.” as you exhaled, your eyes zeroed in on the target. “now, shoot.”

six months have passed, and you were happy that you were still a trio. jaehyun became your best friend over that time. his laughs were enough to shine glimmers of hope onto you. you were glad that you decided to help him off the ground and tend to his bullet wound that day.

until you found yourselves retreating from the horde of infected.

time moves at a constant speed but it can become swift if it decides to. when you and jaehyun reached the doors leading to safety, you remember seeing sungho fighting off those who were once like you, bullets firing at their heads. you remember your screams, telling him to run to you—go to where it’s safe—so that you can keep having tomorrows with him.

yet, sungho glanced at jaehyun, nodding at him before his eyes met yours. you watched how his mouth moved, a soundless three-word phrase leaving him before the doors shut before you. you would’ve pried them open but jaehyun kept his arms around you, holding you back. from letting the infected reach you. from letting sungho come back to you.

the wails that left you were enough to attract the infected. if only they were to burst through the doors, grab onto you and bring you to sungho, then maybe you would stop crying. yet, jaehyun dragged you away. you never saw him as your best friend after that.

a month passed, and you still refused to talk to him. the boy tried to strike up a conversation with you, trying to earn your laugh like he used to, but he was only met with a cold shoulder. with every brick he put, you smashed your sledgehammer against it, dispelling any hope he had in rekindling his friendship with you.

the two of you learned to live in silence, fighting for survival while dealing with the loss of the one who would always bring you both to safety.

until you came across another boy who pointed his gun toward you. his defensive demeanor reminded you of sungho, and you wondered if this was his doing—his reincarnation. but before he could pull the trigger, jaehyun saved you from meeting your fate.

somehow, the duo had turned into a trio once more. you still refused to talk to jaehyun but would eavesdrop on the conversations he shared with the stranger. you learned that the new addition is named leehan.

but even the stranger wasn’t enough to fill the void that sungho left. with every nightfall, when the soft snores of the two boys filled your ears, tears streamed down your face as sobs threatened to spill out. the palm of your hand wasn’t enough to muffle your weeps. behind your eyelids, sungho’s last words to you play on repeat. the ones he failed to say. the ones you’ll never hear again.

maybe if you didn’t leave that motel room then he would’ve still been with you, arms finding their place around your waist as he trails kisses all over you. if the outbreak didn’t happen, then maybe you would be living in that two-story house with him. maybe you would wake up to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice by the bedside table and the warmth of his lips on your forehead. and maybe you could finally tell him yes before he slips the silver band on your finger—you could’ve grown with him until your hair turns grey.

the weight you carry never got lighter with time. the void continued to consume you whole with the goal of ripping you apart. as another month passed, another life was lost—not to the infected but to the raiders.

“myungjae, you have to stay with me.” those were the first words you told him since sungho’s death. crimson continued to spill out of his abdomen through the gaps between your fingertips in the same way tears flow out. “leehan! find gauze, betadine, anything!” you never glanced at the stranger, keeping your gaze on your best friend whose eyes continued to droop.

still, jaehyun caressed your face, thumb wiping teardrops. as he slowly entered territories that you both knew he would never escape, he grinned at you one last time. “i missed hearing you. i’m glad you’ll be the last thing i hear.”

but you tried to tell him that you couldn’t be the last voice he heard. it should’ve been with someone he can imagine his future with, maybe in a two-story house or a cramped flat in an apartment complex. he deserves more tomorrows in the same way sungho did.

but time continues to move. it took him away from you in a matter of minutes, slithering away without a second thought and no regard for the value of life, and all you were left with was his temple—still. lifeless. as you sobbed into his shirt, still holding the wound, the warmth of leehan’s hand stayed on your back, moving along with your wails. 

now, you carry the loss of two. it never got easier with time.

leehan still sticks with you. it only seemed right. stay strong in numbers as you wander off to nowhere, grasping at the loose ends of survival.

two weeks have passed. you and leehan got used to the new dynamic; while he went hunting and you were tasked with scavenging, you both played your roles in combat, ready for any raid or horde. when night comes, you both took shifts, keeping watch while the other got some shut-eye.

until that one evening.

you recall the sounds of wood crackling from the fire. it stood strong against the breeze—burning, shining—surrounded by greens that latch on browns. hues of amber cascaded over your skin, painting you with warmth—it’ll never compare to the one you craved. your eyes drifted to leehan who sat across from you, his eyes trained on the fire as he rubbed his palms together. perhaps he craved the same type of warmth you longed for.

“we used to be three.” his eyes snapped towards yours. “before you came, we used to be three—jaehyun, me, and—” it rose in you like bile, wanting to escape but never leaving. “we were three then.”

you glanced at the wood that continued to burn. “we met jaehyun a month after the outbreak, spent six months together until—” the claws of the void struck against your throat, holding you back from sharing with the stranger what your life was before he came. while you never found the right words to say, leehan never pushed, letting you say what you wanted to share while filling in the blanks on his own. 

“i resented jaehyun after what happened.” you moved your gaze to leehan whose eyes never left you. “refused to talk to him. refused to forgive.” and you remember how you hesitated, taking a deep breath in before sputtering out the next sentence. “refused to accept.”

nine months ago, the outbreak didn’t happen. nine months ago, you were attending sungho’s graduation. nine months ago, you two were imagining your tomorrows together—for eternity.

and those nine months fractured all hopes and dreams; the glass is now littered with cracks, ready to burst into shards.

“but i think about the last time we saw jaehyun,” the image of him sitting in front of you all frail, treading the line between life and death, flashed in front of you; it’s quick but strong to remind you of what’s lost. “and i wish i could’ve learned how to forgive during those two months.”

but it was an impossible request. how could you ever forgive a boy you’ve known for only six months for taking your future away? how could you forgive a world that took him away? how could you forgive and live?

and still, you did.

you left it at that. they were enough. so when you told leehan that you’ll take over tonight’s shift, he never asked to hear more. instead, he laid near the campfire as you kept an eye out.

and once enough hours have passed, you allowed yourself to sob like other nights. the breeze that passed through branches reminded you of jaehyun; rustling leaves imitated the giggles of the boy you’ve only known during the apocalypse.

the wind that grazed against your skin should’ve been a nuisance, but the warmth of the fire wrapped you up like the duvet in that motel room. and you don’t complain—it’s the only part of sungho you have left.

the heat was enough to last you the night, but the chill of reality sent you back to the void.

that night, leehan listened to your sobs. not one of you got enough rest for the journey.

another two weeks went by. you two got into a better groove of the routine; instead of hunting and scavenging in silence, you and leehan found yourselves talking more about your lives before the outbreak. you learned that he’s only a year younger than sungho, and he shared that he had plans to pursue music.

“if the world finds a cure to this mess, you have to promise me that you’ll get me front-row tickets to your first show.” it was a joke. in what world could there be a cure for the infected? but the wishful thinking of what could be—what could’ve been—is all you had left.

still, leehan promised you that.

that night, you two stayed in the living room of an abandoned house. instead of lighting the fireplace, candles were placed on the coffee table. they shined in the middle of you two, you who stayed on the couch and leehan who sat on the mattress lying on the floor.

“where were you?” his eyes met yours. “on the day of the outbreak, i mean.”

he leaned back, hands resting on the mattress before he looked once more at the wax that continued to melt. “i was there for my upperclassmen’s graduation.” it hit you like sudden downpour on a sunny day. “i knew people in the music program and we were going to celebrate after. until the infected came.”

and when you said the name of the university, his gaze met yours as his shoulders stiffened. “m—my sungho.” it’s the first time you spoke of his name, and the sight of leehan’s eyes widening over it was enough to speak for himself.

“i—i didn’t know,” he whispered, but his words were loud enough to shatter glass. “i only spoke to him a few times. he talked about you with so much love.”

your heart skipped beats; it should’ve been enough to send you off into the same territories where sungho and jaehyun now stay. your mouth turned dry as leehan’s voice morphed into radio silence.

before you knew it, the two of you left the information to hang in the air as you tried to drift into slumber.

the clock continues to tick. minutes turned into hours; time moves like it usually does once more.

yet, you were stuck in the same gymnasium, fixing sungho’s toga as you scolded him about how wrinkled it’s become—hey! you’ll go up on stage soon. we can’t take pictures of you like this. despite your words, he smiled at you before grazing his lips on your temple—his silent way of telling you the three-word phrase.

in a split second, you were off the couch. you barged out of the house, clutching your chest as the knot constricted your throat, and your feet dragged you off to nowhere. every sound has turned into a buzz—only the voice of sungho being the one clear thing amidst the hysteria.

before you knew it, you stood before a horizon of green. it takes only one step into the woods, alone with no protection, for you to meet your demise. you would’ve charged into it in the same way you would’ve charged out to save sungho that day.

all it takes is one step, and—

“what are you doing?!” a pair of hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you around until you were face-to-face with the last form of life that you know of. his breaths were short as his fingers dug into your arms. “you can’t just rush out in the middle of the night! i woke up worried sick.” his eyebrows knitted in frustration. confusion. distress. the voice was caught in your throat.

how does one begin to unpack the baggage they’ve learned to carry? when the items they bring are revolting, rotten, repugnant, how does someone not feel shame about showing all the tattered-up objects?

how do you learn to open up to someone you’ve only known for three months?

your hands trembled; you’ve carried the weight of it all for too long.

in that split second, your nose met the juncture between his chin and shoulder. the material of his shirt against your cheek allowed you to bathe in what you miss—the hand of jaehyun that once caressed your face. the lips of sungho that lingered with every kiss. all the moments that you hoped time would freeze just for you lives in the boy you stick with for survival.

all it took were leehan’s hands to rest on the lower side of your back for the tears to begin their stream. the sobs spill out. for once, they weren’t muffled like those other nights. they sounded throughout the space that surrounded you two. you allowed yourself to drop the baggage only for a few minutes.

leehan took you back to the house that night, allowing you to sob about all that you’ve kept under the wraps.

when sunrise came, you found your legs mixed with his as his arms remained wrapped around you and your ear pressed against his chest. the sound of his breathing is the one reminder of what a safe haven is. 

half a year went by. leehan still stays by your side. the baggage got lighter.

it should’ve been the same routine; leehan goes off to hunt while you scavenge, and you’ll take turns on the night shifts. but that night shifted something between you two. stolen glances. quiet giggles. linked fingers.

two months have gone by. the moon shined through the trees, their shadows cascading on an abandoned cabin that you and leehan decided to stay in for that night.

it should’ve been the same set-up as other nights spent in abandoned houses; you’ll sleep on the couch while he sleeps on a dragged-out mattress. instead, he sat with you, your back resting on his chest along with his hand staying on your arm. 

a lit candle rested on the table; its amber tones painted leehan’s skin—close to the fruit tree that stands in your lost future.

“what would you do if there is a cure to this?” you watched how his fingers danced across your skin, calloused from plucking guitar strings or wielding a gun. 

leehan’s chest rumbled against your back as he hummed. “what would you do?”

a giggle left as you looked at the boy. “i was the one who asked you first!”

he shot you a grin as his hand slipped into yours. the candle continued to burn; it did a poor job of giving you light and warmth that night. but he did it all—one smile. one exhale. one indication to show that he lives.

“travel, maybe? or i’ll go back to writing music.” you nodded at his plans before looking back at the light source. “what about you?”

“i don’t know.”

there was no point in going back to university after such a catastrophe. if anything, the year spent surrounded by the infected, fighting for survival, has shown you that there’s more to life than the perpetual cycle of working a nine-to-five.

so…

“i would settle down if i could.” the wax continued to melt. “i think i’ve seen enough of the world. for once, i just want to stay home. indulge in my hobbies. live the life that i want.”

his breath grazed the top of your head. “with someone?” and suddenly, you became aware of it all—the heat that emitted from his palm. the movement of his chest against your back. the gravity of his question.

the words get caught in your throat. your heartbeat rang in your ears. for the first time since sungho’s death, you considered it. 

“with someone.”

before you knew it, his hand caressed your cheek. you were forced to meet his eyes which glistened with devotion. he leaned forward, his breath grazing your skin while you held in yours. you didn’t miss how his gaze flickered to your lips before he met your eyes once more.

then, he held back. it’s a choice, one only you can make. but when your eyes shut, it’s a quiet plea—a silent yes.

his lips met yours. 

the warmth that blossomed in your chest wasn’t like the one in that motel room. not like the embrace of the one you’ve lost. it was one of all seasons—changing with the weather, bringing comfort throughout the everchanging times.

it’s a perpetual cycle of fighting for survival.

you’ll endure through it all.

a month passed by, and you came across another boy on the journey. he’s named taesan, and he told you of a safe haven located in the town that you and leehan grew up in.

for a moment, it was an internal debate—should you go back to where the downfall started? can you go to where the memory of sungho still lives?

but one glance at leehan was enough to settle it. the three of you embarked on your journey.

you remember that day. it was a walk with the goal of finding a car to make the journey back an easy one. the heat of the sun prickled against your skin but you still kept your arms crossed.

“are you two together?” taesan asked, causing you to whip your head towards him. your eyes met leehan’s for a split second—confusion. dejection—before they landed back at the stranger who kept his eyes on the path you took.

“no, we aren’t.”

for the rest of the journey, it was quiet.

sundown came, and you found yourselves in a convenience store for that night’s shelter. leehan was in charge of taking the night shift, allowing you and taesan to rest up. when the stranger went off to sleep on the makeshift bed, you were left alone with leehan.

you watched how he cleaned his gun with a rag stained with dark splotches. the moon gleamed through the window—it can’t compare to how leehan shines.

you needed to get some sleep, is what you tell yourself. with one spin, you were about to make your way to where you’d sleep for that night.

“are we really not?” you halted in your tracks. “did it mean nothing?”

not a single answer left your mouth. your eyes remained straightforward as you refused to meet his gaze.

the warmth vanished with a lack of an answer. instead, it was replaced once more with the cold—the void—that attempted to consume you whole.

and when a scornful chuckle left leehan, you knew that you’d burnt the bridge. you walked away, leaving him to do his job, bidding farewell to the closest form of a safe haven.

two weeks went by and another goodbye had to be done. taesan stood in front of you two, a grin on his lips while tears streamed down his face. his arm was out, revealing a bite mark. the veins near the wound had already turned black. he would’ve turned in a few hours.

“go out.” those were leehan’s first words to you since that night in the convenience store.

you remember the last thing you told taesan before you left the room—you’ll get to your safe haven. the sobs that spilled out of him are ones you’ll never forget. and when you shut the door behind you, it took 20 seconds until you heard a gunshot. 

the weight got heavier once more.

another two weeks went by, and you and leehan found yourselves standing in front of the remains of a safe haven. the fences were torn down. streaks of dark red littered over pavements. not a single sight of a soul lived.

still, you two trudged your way through the town, all the way until you reached leehan’s house. like others, his was abandoned. the cream walls were littered with red strokes and vines. when you both entered, you didn’t miss how leehan’s eyes lingered on a photo hung on the wall—a picture of him and his parents.

you gave him all the time he needed to explore, to sit with the mess, while you stayed in the living room. as you sat on the couch that had gathered dust, you caught sight of a bowl of plastic produce that rested on the coffee table. it held a variety of fruits whose paint had chipped: watermelon, chestnut, and fig.

but amidst the crowd of old, torn-down, plastic fruits, a pear and an orange leaned against each other as grime collected on them. once your hands reached out to the fruits, you pulled them apart—a mess of green and orange stained the two.

he came back to you in 30 minutes, eyes glistening with tears. yet, he only gave you a nod, and you two went to another house. 

you then stood in front of your old house with leehan by your side. weeds grew in the front yard, and the wooden exterior has turned a few shades darker. silence settled between you two. 

to be back in a place you grew up in, where all your memories live, is a process—a grieving one. being face-to-face with the damage brought by the infected can only remind you of what you had and could’ve had.

and once you made your way to your childhood room, you were reminded of all your hopes and dreams before the outbreak. dust rested on top of books. the laptop on your desk had no charge. potted plants have withered.

when you approached the picture frames found on your table, your hand darted out to a photograph of you and sungho. there was no occasion when that picture was taken—the fact that you two were together was enough for it to be remembered. memorialized.

as you made your way back down the stairs, you saw leehan crouched in front of the console table with eyes trained on photographs. “was this your high school graduation?” you approached him and saw the picture he was referring to, you who stood beside sungho with a big grin as his lips were on your temple.

“yeah,” you said as you crouched beside leehan. “we knew each other back when i was a freshman.” your fingers trailed on the wooden frame, gathering the dust before flicking it away. despite your efforts, it was still covered in grime, but you didn’t mind. 

“and you stayed together since?” all you did was hum. “did you find anything up there?”

for the first time since you entered your old house, you looked at leehan and he met your gaze. your eyes trailed his features. the eyes that speak of a thousand words. the lips that once kissed yours.

and it hit you like the gunshot that filled your ears, the breeze that rustled the leaves that one night, the doors that shut close. it was 20 months since the outbreak happened, 13 months since you lost sungho, and 11 months since jaehyun told you his last words.

but it was also 13 months spent with leehan, choosing to survive with him. 

“yeah.”

you found a lot of things within those four walls. there were books you once read growing up, stuffed toys you slept with, and the one picture of you and sungho; they’re the remaining pieces you have left of a life that was good.

you would’ve kept it all, rebuilt the life that was ripped away by the hands of the infected—

“but nothing to hold on to.”

they’re memories, ones you’ll carry with you, but ones worth moving on from. 

“oh,” he said as his eyes still held your gaze. “okay.”

and with one exhale, you said, “let’s rebuild it, just a place for us two.”

it was a whirlwind of emotions in leehan’s eyes, ones you can’t identify. for a moment, you thought he’d say no. maybe he decided that 13 months was enough. one more day with you would be too much, and—

“okay.” when his hand reached out for yours, linking fingers with you like all other times, you gave him a small smile.

when you and leehan stood up, you made your way out of the house, off to find a place just for you two—a safe haven to last you many tomorrows with him.

a month passed. the safe haven was rebuilt; the fences stood strong with electrical wires and barbed wires, and the town was cleaned of all remnants of grime and blood. the two of you took up different tasks ranging from cleaning, cooking, building, and maintaining the haven.

but while you were okay with a knife, accidents did happen. “fuck!”

“what happened?” you remember how leehan came rushing in, only to see you pressing on the skin around the cut on your finger.

before you knew it, you were sitting down with him as he wrapped gauze around the wound. “leehan, it’s just a cut. i’ll be fine.”

“still, i don’t want you getting hurt.” you watched how his eyes were focused on treating your finger. “i’ll be in charge of cooking now.”

you shook your head. “no, i like to cook. i want to cook for us.” his gaze then met yours, his filled with worry while yours filled with determination. they flickered back to your finger and his hands busied themselves with covering it up.

once he was done, his hand continued to hold yours. you remember the heat of his thumb as it drew patterns on your hand. he’s etched himself onto you.

his eyes met yours once more, and he said, “okay, just let me help out.” all you gave him was a nod.

another month went by, and you woke up to the sound of gunshots. you remember how hazy your vision was that night, fresh from sleep but panic coursing through your veins. and when you looked beside you to only see an empty spot, you didn’t think twice about rushing out of bed.

when you exited the house, you saw leehan holding his gun, firing at the people who attempted to tear down the haven’s fences. “leehan!” he looked back at you and you caught sight of the crimson that poured out of his abdomen.

another gunshot was fired, grazing leehan’s leg, and he fell to his knees. you ran to him, reaching out to rest your hand on the wound as you began to sob. “fuck! you have to stay with me.” with his arm resting around your shoulders, you dragged him back to the house.

you set him on the table and moved his hand to hold where he was shot. “hold it.” you rushed to where the medical supplies were stored and gathered whatever you could hold. when you got back, you saw how blood continued to spill out.

you got to work, focused on trying to patch him up, making sure he stays. “you can’t go. i won’t let it happen.” and while your hands busied themselves with treating the injury, you remember how leehan’s hand caressed your cheek, thumb wiping away the spilled tears. 

“in the basement, there’s a piece of paper that has all the codes. if you ever—”

“no, you’ll be okay.”

still, he continued to talk. “if you ever forget the codes, you can always look at the paper. don’t forget that you need to always check the water system every two days, and—”

“leehan!” you croaked out his name in between sobs. “you’ll be okay. you have to, okay?” the more he went on about what to keep in mind, the baggage got heavier. “i can’t do this without you. i won’t allow it.”

because 15 months ago, you would’ve bid farewell to the mayhem. 13 months ago, you hoped for time to drag you away. 12 months ago, you would’ve walked into the forest. but it’s been 22 months, and you were still walking on this earth, choosing to live amidst the chaos—so long as leehan was with you. 

and when you leaned your forehead on his, eyes closed, you felt his breath graze against your lips. “i need you.”

all it took were three words from you. “okay.”

it’s been two months since that happened. the safe haven was rebuilt once more. you and leehan fortified the defense system, hoping they’ll be enough to keep any infected and raiders out. all that matters is that you two were protected—safe—from the chaos.

now, you sit on a couch as you flip through the pages of a book you didn’t have time to read before the outbreak. when all responsibilities vanished, you were able to find enough time to do things you couldn’t do then.

you were ready to get yourself sucked into the world of the novel, but leehan came into the living room with his hands behind his back and a small smile on his lips. “do you remember what you made me promise you before?”

you frown at him, confused, until he shows you an acoustic guitar. “oh my god, you found one?” you put the book on the coffee table.

he takes a seat beside you, body facing towards you as he rests the instrument on his lap. “here, front-row tickets to my first show.” you almost laughed because this is no stadium or club, but a home—one you built with him.

it takes only one smile from him for you to hold it back.

“any song requests?” he strums on the guitar strings, perfectly in tune. it’s almost as if he tuned it before coming to you.

a hum leaves you as you rest your head on your hand propped on the couch. “whatever you want to show me.”

it takes him a few seconds, fingers fiddling with the strings, until he figures out what to play. when he sings out the words—dearest, darling, my universe—you melt like the candles you lit up those nights. as he continues to play a song of a world in hysteria but a love that endures, that’s when you realize what you’ve had all this time.

time is the one thing that occupies your mind. it holds value, something that shouldn’t be wasted, and you learned to revolve your life around it.

it takes you two years to figure out that life doesn’t end after the outbreak—and 17 months to realize that your safe haven is not a two-story house with an orange tree in the garden but the boy in front of you.

when you lean closer to him, his fingers falter, messing up the chords. your hand reaches out to caress his face as your eyes flicker to his lips. you don’t miss how leehan holds his breath, how he stops playing the guitar, how his eyes look back at yours—it’s a slurry of warmth. tenderness.

“i love you.”

all it took was a three-word phrase from you for him to close the distance.

the warmth that spreads within you is like the one you experience in the abandoned cabin. but now, you’re full of hope—a reason to stay—in an infected-ridden world.

now, only one question echoes within your mind: how much longer do we have?

an eternity is what you hope.

tag list: @onedoornet @kflixnet @loserlvrss @lionhanie @nicholasluvbot

@blumisiu @0310s @icyminghao @shegotthewoobies

[just-wrting]

Feeling Fangs Part 2

Title: Feeling Fangs Part 2

Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You and Katakuri explore your relationship more after you remember things from the past that you try not to think about.

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: Wrote a part 2! This ended up longer than I expected due to things I wanted to put in it, but that’s fine. My fics have been getting longer and that’s good! My bf and I have officially reached Wano, so expect Law content in the future cause he’s also just a pretty boy. Anyway, here’s part 2 to a boy who took like three episodes to get into my top three one piece men. This is written for a female reader, but men, please send an ask if you want me to make it masculine!

You don't have the dream often, but when you do, you can never wake up on your own. It's like she's still staring down at you, waiting to destroy you for defying her. Sure it all worked out, but it still terrifies you as much as it did then.

The dream starts after you arrive. Your shoes clack against the polished floors, announcing your every step to all who are listening. Your jacket flutters behind you as you walk, giving off the impression of a cloak not a jacket. You've made sure that you picked out a new outfit to try to impress her, but you aren't sure she's a woman to be impressed by looks.

"An audience with Big Mom? You must be insane," the man escorting you jeers. "What makes you think you can get what you want?"

You don't reply, setting your jaw in determination. It's been something you've always been able to do. You get your way from almost everyone when you're this determined, not just your father. Not only that, you're banking on a few things to make you convincing.

The door swings open to a chorus of singing, the musical behind the door not stopping for you. It's just one of those techniques to intimidate you, and you won't fall for it. Not even as you swallow your heart back down and clench your fists to stop the fear. It's ridiculous. This whole plan is ridiculous all because you're stubborn about who you get to marry.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" she asks, leaning down to look at you. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having the next bride coming to my territory early?"

You sweep into a deep bow, not raising your eyes. Everything rests on your performance.

"I had a request. I fear that the groom you have paired me with is a bad match."

You can feel the heat of her anger. "Are you saying that I'm a bad matchmaker? All of my children are happy with their marriages, why wouldn't yours be the same?"

You straighten and hesitantly look at her. "I would never say that. What I fear may have happened, is you believe my role in my father's business. I may be his daughter, but I have yet to be labeled the heir."

"So you are useless?"

You gulp. "If that's how you choose to view it. I am merely being honest with you about my father. I'm begging you for your help, Big Mom. With your help, I can be named the heir. As soon as that happens, you are free to do with my father as you wish and I will turn it over to you."

She leans back and rubs her chin. "What does this have to do with the marriage?"

You keep your hands folded behind your back. "I need to marry someone who can protect me against anyone and who would never respect my father. I'm unsure how he does it, but he has been able to get very powerful people to do things he wants."

Thunder booms through the room as she growls at you. "Are you saying my children are weak?"

You bite your lip. How is she taking everything you say the wrong way?

"I have heard about some of your children more than others." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your ever growing nerves. "Perhaps it's a bit difficult to understand my perspective. You are the strongest woman on the seas. You're able to get yourself out of any fight you get in. You are unstoppable. I am nobody. I have no abilities and no fighting knowledge. Everyday I have to fear for my life. It would be better for you if I had a strong husband to rely on instead of running to you when I'm in danger."

You hold your back as straight as you can, pushing down all your fear. You have no idea if she's listening to you or if you're signing your own death warrant with every word you say.

She calms down. "So what you're saying is that you're afraid of getting hurt so you'd like one of my strongest children to marry you in exchange for handing over your father's empire?"

"In the simplest of terms, yes that is my request. You are a gracious woman for even listening to my request."

Her laughter echos through the room. "Very well. I hope you're okay with finding out which of my sons you'll marry at the wedding."

You dip into another bow. "Of course, whatever you wish I shall be okay with now that my fears have been put to rest."

She waves you off. "Begone now, I seem to have another person to speak to."

You walk out of the room as calmly as you can. Internally, you're both relieved and panicked. Now you have made your future even more twisted and unclear. The mere thought of going home or coming back here makes you sick.

As soon as you can, you duck into the shadows and start to retch. There's nothing to vomit, you skipped breakfast, but spit trails down your lips to the floor. All of your nerves are finally getting to you and you can't hold it back anymore.

There's a faint clinking sound as someone walks towards you, but you don't turn around. Not only is it a bit mortifying to be seen like this, you just don't have the energy. Who ever it is pauses a short distance away, never saying anything. You know it's to look at you. You left the door open behind you.

Normally the dream continues with you finding food, but still throwing it up as the Big Mom pirates sneer at you. This time, you jolt awake to see Katakuri looking at you with worry.

Your breathing is heavy as you fumble around, trying to get away. There's a million thoughts racing in your mind, but the most prominent one being that you have to leave. You don't even stop trying to get out of the bed as he picks you up and sets you in his lap.

"It's just me," he whispers as he pulls your head to his chest. "You're awake, and you're safe."

You do your best to focus on the sound of his breathing, trying to match it. It's a bit tricky since he's got larger lungs, but the deeper breaths help you slowly calm down. You ignore the rest of your body as you, pretending that you aren't still trembling.

You can't remember the last time you woke up like this. Maybe it was when you first got married and you were terrified of being surrounded by strangers. Maybe it was when they killed your dad and you kept getting those letters saying that people would get their revenge. Maybe it was just a few weeks ago when you woke up in a cold sweat wondering if you would ever see Katakuri again.

By the time you've calmed down, you forget why it scares you so much. It's just a dream of a time that you could've died but didn't. It's just a dream. It will only ever stay a dream.

"What happened?" His voice is soft as he kisses the top of your head. "Tell me."

You draw in a shaky breath. "It's just a dream I have sometimes. Just remembering why we got married in the first place. Did anyone ever tell you why?"

Katakuri gently rubs his thumb against your skin. It's nice to just have him hold you like this for a little bit. Even if you woke him and you feel like a bother.

"Mother just said that you were someone she needed to keep in check and I was the best fit for that. That's all I know."

"I marched in here and asked that she gave me a different son to marry. Part of it was I thought your brother was..." you search for the right word. "Not my type. Part of it was that I was scared to get killed by your family so I wanted one of her strongest sons so that way I was safer."

"Does that mean I'm your type?"

You can feel his face start to heat up as he leans against you. It's not something you ever really thought about, so you rack your brain for the answer.

"I'd say so. I didn't pick you out, your mom did, but that doesn't mean you aren't my type." Your face starts to heat up. "You are the prettiest one and I would be lying if I said that I hadn't thought of marrying you when I first heard about it."

He stops moving. "Why me?"

"Because you're my type. I keep learning new things about you that just tick more of my boxes so it worked out alright."

You tilt your head back and give him a soft kiss. For a moment he stays still, but he's quick to grab your chin and keep you there. It's only been a few weeks, but you've gotten plenty used to just how affectionate he is when you're alone.

"Like what?" His eyes look into yours, unblinking and persistent. "What do you like about me?"

"Are you really going to make me list off everything I like about you?"

Even in the dark his eyes shine, and you find yourself mesmerized. He looks so pretty and you reach up to play with his hair.

"Just a few things."

You pretend to think really hard about it. "Well, let me think. I like that you're honorable."

Pressing a kiss to his jaw, you continue to list things. "You care deeply about people."

A kiss to his cheek. "You're incredibly sweet."

A kiss to his nose. "And you have to be the prettiest man I've ever seen."

With a smile, you press your lips to his. You mean every word you said, and you hope he knows that. It's official. You've definitely fallen for him, but you'll keep that to yourself for now.

Katakuri grips your waist and pulls you closer. He's soft and warm, and it's just so comforting to be held. It hadn't taken you long to get used to this, and now you find yourself enjoying it.

Before you can react, he pulls away and presses a kiss to your temple. "It's still early in the morning, get more sleep."

Scowling, you decide to sass back. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

He gives you another kiss. "Your husband."

"Uh-huh. And how long have you been my husband?"

"Three years, seven months, and," you hear the sound of him picking up the clock and setting it down. "Twelve days."

"I'm surprised you remember that. I forgot all about it last year." You put your head back against his chest. "Though you're never around for it."

He starts to rub your back again. "In case it was important. What made you remember?"

"Someone left me a gift to celebrate it. I don't know who, though they've left me a gift every year."

You close your eyes, content to just relax. Katakuri is always warm and soft. There's very little that's more relaxing than just laying on him and going to sleep.

"What did you do with them? Did you throw them out?" He sounds worried.

You give a halfhearted shake of your head. "Nope, they're in the top drawer of my dresser. The only thing I've considered throwing out is some stuff that an old friend sent me. Why? Did you send them?"

There's a rumble in his chest before he wraps his arm around you and rolls over. "Don't ask questions, just sleep."

"Have you been trying to woo me this whole time, Katakuri?"

He holds you tighter. "If I promise to tell you who left those tomorrow, will you go to sleep?"

You laugh. "Sure, but only if you promise."

"Alright, I promise. Now go to sleep."

It's not a hard thing to do. You're warm and comfortable right where you are, and you feel sleep tugging you back. The thing that gets you the most is the feeling of being safe. Right now, as you are, you feel absolutely safe for what must be the first time in a long time.

—-

You throw the clothes on the bed and groan. Nothing you've managed to pull out has worked or fit, and you're starting to go insane. How did it not cross his mind to tell you that you needed to go with him to some stupid meeting? Now you're stuck rifling through your closet looking for something that Big Mom won't kill you for wearing.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?" you whine as you pull out another shirt. "None of this is going to work."

Katakuri watches you from the bed, wearing the same thing he always wears. He has it easy with a wardrobe filled with replicas of his biker outfit. Sure he looks great in it, but would it kill him to wear something else and suffer with the ability to choose? Maybe something that could actually cover that massive chest of his.

"Should I pick for you?"

You wave at him dismissively. "No. I need to prove that I know what to wear to something like this. Otherwise if she wants to see me when you aren't around, I'll be in trouble."

You can feel his eyes on you, but you ignore it. It's not until you slip on another dress, that you realize he's been in the room the whole time. It never bothered you before. In fact, the first time you changed in front of him you told him that it didn't matter if he saw you change because you're married.

Now that's changed. Sure, you're still married, you've just started to be more romantic and physical with each other. After three years, you've started to actually act like a couple. It's only been about a month, and the realization has just started to set in.

Even though you've done this a hundred times, you suddenly feel exposed and embarrassed. Has he always looked at you like this and you just never noticed? Maybe you should just go change in the bathroom instead.

"This also doesn't fit, I can't get the zipper up. I think I'll do this in the bathroom instead."

The bed squeaks as he swings his legs off. "I can help."

You feel your body heat up. "That's not necessary. How much time do I have left? Maybe I can go buy something."

"You look fine in everything you wear," he adds. "I don't believe it matters what you wear."

"I just," you pause to slip the dress off. "I just want to be perfect. Everyone views you as perfect so I need to match that."

You rub the silk between your fingers before chucking it to the floor. It doesn't matter what you wear. You'll never be more to them than Katakuri's little wife. Someone who's a thorn in their side and took him away.

"You're already perfect," he mumbles. "Just wear what you like."

You don't respond. Not only can you not hear him, you aren't sure if anything he could say would make you feel better. Maybe that's for the best. Dealing with his family isn't something he can really help with. It a challenge you need to deal with on your own.

You continue to absentmindedly pull clothes out and toss them around. All you're actually doing is making a mess. It'll all have to be sorted, hung, and put away once more, and you probably won't have the energy.

Eventually you pull out something you forgot you owned. The fabric is soft and soothing to the touch. You think back to when you bought it, shortly after you got married. Clearly you were thinking about Katakuri, the color matches his eyes.

You pull it out and hold it up to your chest. "What do you think of this?"

He nods. "It suits you."

You hum in thought. That's not much a reaction. To be fair, he hasn't given you much of a reaction this whole time. Part of you wants him to give you more than that, you wish you could see if he was flustered. Unfortunately, he's all ready, complete with his scarf tucked under his nose.

"That's it?" You raise an eyebrow. "I think I was thinking about you when I bought it since I'm pretty sure your eyes are this color."

You make your way over to the bed and hold it up to his head. Leaning in close, you stare into his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the clothes. The color is practically a perfect match. You don't know how you managed to pull that off, but you feel proud of that.

"It's the same color." You brush his hair away from his eyes. "Such a pretty color."

Katakuri reaches up and grabs your hip. It hurts a bit, but you don't mind. You know he can't tell how much force he can apply to your skin so it's never intentional. Normally you just remind him that you're not a sixteen foot tall piece of muscle and he needs to be more gentle. This time, you don't have the chance.

He takes the hanger from you and tosses it on the nightstand. You frown before he pulls you into his lap. Having no idea what game he's play, you push his chest and huff.

"What are you trying to do?"

You're flustered at the position, straddling his thigh in your underwear. It's impossible to tell how he feels right now due to his face being in shadow, but you hope he's more confident than you are.

"Is there something wrong?"

You grip the soft leather covering his chest and cover your mouth. Squirming to get out of his grasp isn't helping. In fact, it's making things worse. The way he's holding you makes it impossible to escape.

Closing your eyes, you try to get control of your thoughts. Every time you move, you end up grinding against him. You feel dirty for wanting to keep going. A large part of you wants him, even if it's in this way.

"N-no. I'm fine."

You stifle a moan as he pulls you closer. It's like he's encouraging you to give in, but you can't bring yourself to do that just yet. Not when you don't know if you can, and especially when you don't know if you'd be able to stop.

There's the sound of him using his devil fruit, and soon he's lifting your chin up. You open your eyes just enough to look into his. He's not looking into your eyes, tracing your body with his gaze instead. When he finally does meet your gaze, his pupils are wide and his eyes are dark. You've never seen him like that, but for some reason it gives you the answer you need.

Even though you're covering your mouth, you bite your lip to keep yourself from making noise. You can't bring yourself to break eye contact as you start grinding against him. His brow furrows slightly before he closes his eyes. You feel his chest rise and fall in deep breaths under your hand as he seems to struggle with something.

Katakuri keeps you steady, his fingers digging into your skin. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drop your head into his chest. At this point, the movement of your hips is like second nature. The dragging of your cunt against his thigh brings you  pleasure you haven't felt in months.

Focusing on your own pleasure, you start to move faster. You slide your knees to the side just a bit more to get even closer. Whining at extra friction, you feel your whole body flush. Each rock of your hips sends jolts of pleasure to your core.

You spread your fingers, panting to get more air. It's starting to make your thighs and hips ache, but you can't stop. You don't want to stop. You're chasing the high of an orgasm.

After a few minutes of rolling your hips down into him, you start to lose your pace. The tension in your core is building to its peak and you can't focus on anything but reaching it. You're desperate and clinging to him like it'll help.

As if sensing your desperation, Katakuri guides your hips back and forth. You struggle to muffle the sounds you make as you feel the tension snap. Your legs shake as your orgasm courses through you, and you grip his jacket as tight as you can.

Your hips don't stop moving until you're over sensitive and whining. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you go limp. You barely register Katakuri lifting you off his thigh and laying you on the bed. His touch is light and gives you goosebumps.

There's the soft feeling of a damp towel on your face and thighs as he wipes you down as best as he can. You give a peek to look at him, finding him still in intense concentration.

"I'll let you rest for a moment. We won't be late."

You nod and close your eyes. Not only did you have a nightmare last night, but you got your exercise in already this morning. It's surprisingly exhausting, and you feel like taking a nap. You could probably get away with it too, since Katakuri dotes on you.

You curl into a ball on his side of the bed, making yourself comfortable. It's still warm from where he was, and you absentmindedly reach for the blanket. Of course, you can't reach it. Deciding that it doesn't matter, you give up.

After what feels like seconds, he's gently shaking you awake again. You stretch and groan before rolling over. Risking your life for a few more minutes is stupid, but what else are you going to do? Get up and go to the meeting?

"Get dressed. I can carry you, but you have to wear something."

You pout. "I don't even want to go. Why do I have to go?"

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "I don't know, but it isn't wise to keep Mother waiting."

—-

You look at your lap. Most of the topics are about fixing up the remains of the chateau, something you couldn't care less about. As long as you and your husband have a room big enough for him, you'll be fine.

"Now, time for the reason I called some of you here," Big Mom announces, banging a spoon on her teacup. "I hope that at least some of you can fulfill my request."

What little noises that were being made stopped almost as soon as she started speaking. You glance at Katakuri who doesn't seem fazed. Deciding to calm down, you take your tea in your hand and take a sip.

"This attack against me has made me realize that I'm not quite as young as I once was. Therefore," she gestures around the table, "as all my married children, it is your job to continue growing our family. The first to bring me a grandchild will be rewarded."

You choke on your tea, coughing into the cup. Did she really just request that you start having kids? You're well aware of how old all of her married kids are, but she can't be serious. She already has a grandchild, not that she'll ever call the kid that.

"Is something wrong with my request?”

You shake your head aggressively. "Absolutely not. I thought for just a moment there was a bug in my tea, but it appears I'm just suffering from a lack of sleep. I'm sorry for the disruption."

You don't even pay attention the rest of her talk. Who knows what she's going on about with her age, some of her kids aren't even double digits? Maybe this is just some plan to get you killed in the dumbest way possible. How are you supposed to have kids with Katakuri of all guys? He's sixteen feet tall.

That's not to say you haven't thought about having kids with him. Even if it's been in a more 'how would this work' way and less of a 'I really want kids' way. You’ve only started to be comfortable with him in the romantic sense in the past month or two so you haven’t had the chance to even discuss such a topic. Though you don’t think you’d mind trying.

You shake your head slightly, attempting to get rid of the thoughts. This sort of situation is not the time to be thinking like that. Even if he keeps looking over at you to make sure you’re okay.

Thankfully the meeting ends after a few more minutes, and you head outside. The stress of being around so many of the Big Mom pirates is giving you jitters and you want to just curl up into a ball and scream. Normally they leave you alone, even if giving you dirty looks, but this time you were forced to partake in a dumb meeting about having kids.

Just as she had asked, Katakuri stays behind for a few more minutes. You watch the door anxiously, biting your nails as you wait. It’s a bad habit, but you can’t break it due to moments like these. Moments where you aren’t sure what’s going to happen to you or your husband. Moments where your whole life could be upturned. Thankfully, he comes out looking fine, if mildly annoyed.

He picks you up and sets you on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“What did she want to talk to you about?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he just keeps walking down the stairs, making sure to not jostle you too much. Whatever it was must’ve been somewhat bad if he’s not willing to talk about it yet. Maybe he just doesn’t want to bother you with whatever it was.

You take in the construction as you walk, surprised by just how fast the work has been. The whole chateau is almost complete, only missing finishing details and furniture. It’s pretty impressive, and you wonder how everyone managed to get it done. Katakuri and you even have your original room back already, though you aren’t sure where they managed to find all of your belongings. Not that it matters, you have other things to worry about.

Once he sets you down and locks the door, Katakuri sighs. He looks slightly aggravated, and you aren’t entirely sure why. It’s clearly related to whatever his mom wants him to do, but whatever it is can’t be that bad. Not that you have any idea of what she normally asks of him.

“There’s something I need to go do,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

“It’s okay. I was really worried she had scolded and threatened you, so I’m glad you’re just leaving for a little bit.”

You press your hand to your chest in relief. There are far worse things that could’ve been said than having him go do something. At least he’s still safe and still yours.

“I’ll do my best to be quick.” He bends down to look in your eyes. “I promise.”

“I don’t care how long you take, as long as you come back safe.” You press a kiss to his lips. “Promise me you’ll come back safe and sound.”

Katakuri returns your kiss. “I promise to come back to you.”

With that, he leaves. Even though he just left, you find yourself missing him. You push down the idea of running after him and begging him to stay or take you with him. There’s no need to bother him. He’s already promised to come back and that’s more than you could ask for.