#then i end up crying (i usually to to avoid crying in front of anyone though so i try to go to the bathroom for that)

[battywitch]

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[thewickedjazzy]

𓍼𝑽𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑶𝒇 𝑴𝒚 𝑶𝒘𝒏 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚𓂃

➵ 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 : Beast! Dazai osamu x f! reader

➵ 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸: You are Dazai's favourite—an executive who avoided unnecessary bloodshed, preferring to strategize behind the scenes. With your cunning plans, you helped the Port Mafia flourish after Mori's death, and under Dazai's leadership, you became vital in securing the organization's power.

➵ 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: NSFW minor dni, smut, angst, dazai is controlling, yandere dazai?, character death, abuse, guns, blood, SA, dissociation, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, let me know if I forgot any Xx.

➵ 𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮: Helloooo, this fic took me 3 weeks to finish, I'm always down with angst stories cause, let's be real, no bsd fan doesn't like angst, right? also, ice cream man by raye inspired me to write some parts uwu I hope you enjoy it. xoxo -dividers credits to @anitalenia

➵ 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 6.8k

You shouldn't be crying. You already did beat the man up till he was shaking, but you couldn't help it. You can still feel his ice-cold hands marking your body, a sensation that sends shivers down your spine. How you wish you could express how you feel, how you felt in that moment when your strength faltered. You long to explain why you’re silently blaming yourself, why the guilt gnaws at your insides like a relentless parasite.

You put on these faces, pretending you're fine, wearing a mask of strength that you desperately want to believe in. But in the privacy of the bathroom, you press rewind, playing the events over and over in your head. His fingerprints, like invisible stains, linger on your skin, a cruel reminder of how he made you frame yourself for his sins. Such a pathetic, dead excuse of a man.

The man in question wasn’t just some random thug—he was your crazy ex, the one who had haunted you for years, refusing to let go, even after everything had ended. You hadn’t told anyone about the encounter. What would they think? What would he think? Dazai, with his sharp eyes and sharper mind, would see right through you. He always did.

You straighten up and hastily wipe your tears away as you hear a knock on the door. The sound sends a jolt through your body, and you quickly compose yourself, trying to erase any trace of vulnerability from your face.

Seated at your desk, you take a deep breath and call out, "Come in."

The door opens, and it's Chuuya, greeting you with his usual smile. But the moment his eyes land on you, the smile drops, concern filling his gaze as he takes in your red nose and puffy eyes.

“Hey, you okay?”' he asks with a low and gentle voice.

You force a weak smile, shaking your head. "Yeah..just... pmsing," you lie, the excuse feeling hollow even to you. You get up walking towards him before adding quickly, "Please don’t tell Dazai."

Chuuya hesitates, his eyes searching yours, before he nods, accepting your words without question. He hands you his handkerchief, his expression softening with sympathy as you take it from him.

You dab at your eyes, feeling the wetness seep into it, and then take a deep breath. You can’t afford to break down, not now. Not in front of him.

He escorted you to Dazai’s office, his presence a quiet comfort. At the door, he gave you a final, soft look before turning away.

The office door creaked open, and you stepped inside, the chill of the room amplifying the coldness you already felt. Dazai looked up from his desk, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your disheveled state.

“Rough day?” he asked, voice so velvetly soft that it could melt you.

You tried to muster a casual smile, but it felt hollow. “Just had a run-in with some old... baggage. Nothing to worry about.”

Dazai’s eyes didn’t leave you, his expression shifting to something more serious. “You know I don’t buy that ‘nothing’ act. What’s really going on?”

You took a deep breath, struggling to keep your voice steady. “It’s really not your concern. I’m handling it.”

Dazai’s gaze was sharp as he looked you up from his desk, his usual lazy posture replaced by a steely focus. “Come here,” he said, a command wrapped in casual tones.

Reluctantly, you approached, his eyes never leaving you. He patted his lap, a gesture both familiar and unsettling. “Sit.”

You shook your head, trying to avoid his intense stare, oh god how he toys with your emotions. “I’m fine standing.”

Dazai’s expression darkened slightly, his patience wearing thin. He reached out, his fingers grazing your wrist as he pulled you closer. The touch was feather-light but unmistakably commanding. He guided you gently onto his lap, his hands resting on your waist.

You stiffened, trying to keep your breathing steady. “Osamu, really, it’s nothing.”

Ignoring your protests, Dazai’s lips brushed against your neck, his kisses soft but insistent. You tilted your head, a soft whimper escaping your lips. The sensation was like a nicotine hit after a long withdrawal; you had been away on a mission for three days, and you had missed his touch more than you cared to admit. As his lips continued their tender assault, he pulled your shirt down slightly, revealing the fresh bruise that marred your skin.

Dazai’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint reflecting in them. The bruise was vivid, a stark contrast against your pale skin, and his expression darkened as he took in the sight.

“Who did this?” he asked coldly, his voice remained low.

You turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s not important.”

Dazai’s hand tightened on your waist, his grip firm and unyielding as he tilted your head back. His kisses turned sharper, more insistent, and you couldn’t help but let out soft whimpers. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips pressing harder with each passing second. “I said who did this..”

You swallowed hard, the pressure of his words mixing with the lingering sting of the bruise. “It’s nothing. Just...someone from my past.”

His grip remained unyielding, his gaze piercing. “I don’t like secrets. Especially ones that involve you getting hurt.”

The room seemed to shrink around you, the weight of his expectations pressing down. You felt cornered, unable to escape the intensity of his scrutiny. “I said it’s nothing. Please, just let it go.”

Dazai’s expression remained impassive for a moment, then he simply nodded. The acknowledgment was neither reassuring nor dismissive, leaving a cold tension in the air.

After a few seconds of silence Dazai's voice cut through the room, his fingers still brushing against your skin. “The thing is, my love, you don’t have to tell me anything.” He turned to the intercom on his desk, his tone shifting to a cold, commanding edge. “Atsushi, you can bring him in now.”

Your eyes widened in shock, your legs going weak as you tried to turn your head towards the door. It creaked open slightly, and Atsushi rushed in, dragging your ex behind him. Your ex’s hands were bound tightly, and he was unconscious, a cloth over his mouth. Atsushi tossed him roughly onto the floor and announced, “I brought him alive, just as you ordered.”

“Good work, Atsushi,” he said calmly. “You can leave now.”

Dazai’s gaze remained on you, his smile twisted with a cruel satisfaction as Atsushi closed the door behind him. He lifted your legs lightly, forcing you to stand as he moved toward the prone figure of your ex, who was beginning to stir. Dazai’s fingers traced along your ex’s jawline with an unsettling gentleness.

Horror gripped you as you watched, understanding what was about to unfold. You begged, your voice trembling, “Please, Dazai, don’t kill him.”

He merely tsked in response, his eyes cold and unyielding. “I’m not going to kill him.”

Before you could take a deep breath, his voice sliced through the tension like an arrow. “You are the one who's going to do it.” He gently grabs your hands placing a gun between them.

Your hands trembled as you held the gun, the cold metal biting into your palms. The room was deathly silent except for the faint, ragged breaths of your ex as he began to regain consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, revealing a mix of confusion and fear as he took in his surroundings.

Dazai’s cold eyes were locked on you.“Go on,” he urged softly. “You wanted him to suffer for what he did. Here’s your chance.”

The gun felt impossibly heavy, and your heart pounded in your chest. You glanced at your ex, his eyes widening in terror as he realized what was happening. “Please,” you whispered, more to yourself than to anyone else. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

Dazai’s smile widened slightly. “It doesn’t matter what you wanted. You’ve been given a choice. What will you do with it?”

Your mind raced, grappling with the gravity of the situation. You thought of the pain he’d caused you, the fear he had instilled, and the bruises that still stung. Yet, the thought of ending his life filled you with a profound dread. You felt trapped, the decision crushing under the weight of Dazai’s expectation and your own turmoil.

“Do it,” Dazai said, his voice a soft command, almost a caress. “Or I’ll do it for you. But if I do, you’ll have missed your chance to decide your own fate.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you faced your ex, his terror and confusion mirroring your own. Choked sobs left you lips Dazai’s gaze followed every movement with a sick interest.

“Please, Dazai..don’t make me do this,” you pleaded, your voice cracking.

Dazai’s expressionwas stoic as ever. “You’re not being asked to make a choice you can’t live with. You’re being given the chance to claim control over your own life.”

With a final, desperate look at your ex, you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. The gun felt like a lead weight in your hand, the gravity of your decision pressing down on you. Finally, with a heavy heart and trembling hands, you raised the gun.

You closed your eyes tightly, the room spinning as you tried to steady your racing heart. The gun trembled in your grip, the weight of the decision nearly unbearable. You heard Dazai move behind you, his footsteps silent against the floor.

His presence was almost soothing as he came closer, but you knew better than to trust the comfort of his proximity. Dazai's hands settled on your outstretched arms, his touch both firm and unsettlingly gentle. His fingers caressed the metal of the gun, guiding it with a measured pressure.

“You don’t need to hesitate,” Dazai murmured softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve already made the decision. Now, you just need to follow through.”

The sensation of his hands on yours, the intimate pressure of his grip, made your breathing shallow and uneven. You felt a dark, twisted sense of helplessness as his fingers guided the gun, aligning it with your ex’s trembling form.

“I’ll count to three,” Dazai continued, his voice was steady “And when I reach three, I want you to pull the trigger. Don’t let yourself falter.”

You felt his breath on your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. The intimacy of his touch contrasted sharply with the gravity of the moment. You wanted to pull away, to escape the suffocating pressure, but his grip held you firmly in place.

“One,” Dazai said, his voice calm as he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

Your tears fell silently as you fought against the urge to drop the gun.

“Two,” Dazai’s breath was warm as he pressed another kiss.

You could hear your ex’s shallow breaths, his eyes pleading as they met yours.

“Three,” Dazai said, his voice now a commanding whisper.

With a final, shuddering breath, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the world as you pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot echoed painfully in the room, and you felt the impact of the action resonate through your very core.

You opened your eyes, your arms fell limp as the gun slipped from your grasp, hitting the floor with a hollow clatter. You staggered back, your legs barely holding you upright, and turned away from the grim sight before you.

Dazai’s grip on your shoulders was a cold anchor as he held you steady, his touch paradoxically soothing yet possessive. You could feel his breath against your neck as he leaned in close, his voice a chilling murmur. “Well done,” he said placing soft kisses again as his arms wrapped around your waist pulling your back against his chest. “You’ve proven your resolve.”

You felt a wave of nausea and despair wash over you, your emotions a tangled mess of guilt and horror. The room spun as you tried to make sense of the scene in front of you. The body on the floor was now still, the weight of your actions sinking in with a heavy finality.

Dazai’s hands slid down to your wrists, his touch now insistent as he forced you to look at the aftermath. “Do you see what you’ve done?” he asked softly, his voice a mix of praise and dark satisfaction. “You’ve taken control of your own fate.”

You tried to pull away, but his grip was firm, his presence an oppressive force that left you feeling trapped. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any semblance of escape, but all you found was the unyielding gaze of Dazai, his face reflecting a mixture of cold pleasure and calculated dominance.

His fingers gently traced your jawline, his touch both tender and unsettling. “It’s done now,” he said, his voice almost affectionate. “You did great, my love.”

The finality of his words echoed in your mind as you struggled to come to terms with what had just happened. The tears streaming down your face were a testament to the turmoil within you, the depth of your inner conflict clear as you fought to keep yourself composed.

Dazai’s hands gently turned you around to face him. His expression, though tinged with satisfaction, softened as he wiped away the tears streaming down your face. His touch was tender, almost reverent, as he carefully brushed away the last remnants of your distress.

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The tenderness of the moment was jarring against the harsh reality of what had just occurred. His lips moved gently against yours, and he licked your bottom lip before drawing it into a passionate, consuming kiss.

The warmth of his kiss contrasted sharply with the icy numbness you felt inside. You felt his fingers trace your face, lingering on the slight traces of blood that you hadn’t even noticed. His touch was delicate, almost intimate, as he wiped away the remnants with careful precision.

Dazai pulled away from the kiss, his expression unreadable as he reached for the intercom on his desk. “Atsushi,” he said with a cold, commanding tone, “bring in the clean-up crew. Dispose the body.”

Atsushi entered the room, his eyes shifting between you and Dazai. He bowed slightly, acknowledging the order before moving towards the body. As he lifted your ex’s lifeless form, the finality of the situation hit you with renewed force. You stared blankly, more tears streaming down your face, as Atsushi carried the body out and closed the door behind him.

The room was filled with the soft hum of Dazai’s presence as he moved back in front of you. He gently placed his hands on your cheeks, shushing you softly as your sobs grew louder. “Shh, it’s alright,”he murmured, his voice almost soothing.

You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, your sobs escaping in ragged bursts. Dazai’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. His embrace was both comforting and suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice a murmur against your hair. “I know it was hard.”

You could barely respond, the weight of your own emotions too heavy to articulate. All you could do was clutch at him, your sobs muffled against his chest as the realization of what had happened continued to sink in. You hated him, and yet, in the chaos of your emotions, you felt a desperate, confusing affection for him—a love that seemed to only grow more complicated in the aftermath of his actions.

Dazai’s fingers gently combed through your hair, his touch soothing despite the circumstances. “It’s all over now,” he said softly.

His lips brushed against your forehead in a tender kiss, “He should've known better than to touch what's mine.”

The room was filled with the constant contact of your colliding bodies. Your body arched against the rumpled sheets as his thrusts filled you completely, each stroke hitting exactly the right spots.

" Mmm.. that's it my love, take my cock all the way inside this pretty eager pussy of yours" he growled softly against your skin.

You relished the way every thrust brushed against your cervix, sending waves of pleasure through you. The intensity of his movements left you feeling utterly consumed, your mind hazed and eyes glossy with desire. Your fingers dug into his back, desperately clutching him as he moved with a raw intensity.

His lips traveled down your neck, biting and kissing with a fervent need. One hand cupped your breast with a possessive grip while his mouth hovered over the other, teasing with gentle flicks of his tongue and playful nips at your nipple. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, your moans filling the space between you.

Yet, even in the midst of this passion, your mind began to wander. The memories of the past few days—the confrontation, the guilt, and Dazai’s chilling command—flooded your thoughts, turning the intense pleasure into a distant murmur. You felt a growing disconnection, your body reacting while your mind struggled to stay present.

Sensing the abrupt change, Dazai felt as if he were thrusting into a lifeless body. He slowed his movements and pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a rare softness. “What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, concern filling his lustrous gaze.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself as your voice, though shaky, was firm. “It’s fine,” you reassured him, forcing a weak smile. “I just... got lost in my thoughts for a moment. It’s nothing.” You reached out to gently touch his cheek, trying to convey that the issue was more internal than it was about him.

Dazai took a deep breath and shifted to sit upright, his concern still evident. “You're still thinking about it, right?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine worry.

"Please, just forget about it." you said, pulling his wrist with a firm but gentle grip. Before he could respond, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him deeply to steer your focus back to the present.

Dazai gasped into the kiss, his breath hitching as your kissed him with fervor. He gently pinned your wrists down with a possessive grip, his lips trailing soft kisses along your chest. He positioned himself again, his cock pressing against your throbbing cunt, his voice a low murmur.

“We can stop if it’s too much, my love,” he whispered as his chest moves up and down with each breath.

You locked gaze with his eyes, “Just fuck me already,” you breathed. You wanted to reclaim the moment, to bury the past beneath the intense passion that bound you both.

He slams his cock into you again, filling you completely. A growl escapes his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying the sight of your reactions. His thrusts become more powerful, and he showers your neck, chest, and breasts with fervent kisses.

"So addict to my cock, love? Hmm?" he continues to taunt you with his words and delivers a firm slap to your ass, making you shiver from his touch.

You gasp, arching your back as his thrusts hit all the right spots. “It feels so good, 'samu” you breathe, trying to steady yourself.

He slaps your ass again, making you shiver and whimper. “Say it again, my love haah~ I need to hear you say how good ugh~I’m making you feel.”

“s'good,” you moan, your voice breaking.

"Good" with a satisfied growl, he pulls out. “Now, ride me.”

You nod, your legs trembling in anticipation. As you position yourself over him, he hisses at the sensation of your cold hand guiding his hard, leaking cock to your eager, wet cunt.

As you sink down onto him, your walls stretches to accommodate his size, a deep moan slipping from your lips as you take him in fully. The feeling is overwhelming, your inner walls tightening around him, drawing a sharp gasp from both of you.

His long slender fingers grip your hips, helping you find a rhythm as you begin to ride against him. Each roll of your hips sends waves of pleasure through you, the friction making you shudder.

You lean forward, your fingers fumbling as you carefully remove the bandage from his eye. Your breath is hot against his neck as you whisper, “’Samu, I love you.” Your body presses against his, and with a surge of passion, you begin to ride him at a faster pace, each movement gaining a growl from him.

His eye, now fully exposed, darkens with lust as he gazes up at you. “I love you too, darling,” he murmurs through soft gasps. He meets your rhythm with powerful thrusts, each one driving deeper into you, matching your pace perfectly.

Feeling the pressure building within you, your moans grow louder. “I’m... close, ‘Samu,” you gasp, your trembling hands held onto his shoulders for support as you ride him faster, rolling your hips against his perfect sized cock feeling him hit every spot with his thrusts against you.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he groans in pleasure. “Oh yeah? Come all over my cock, love,” beads of sweat rolling down his temples, his words sending you spiraling closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you through the overwhelming waves of pleasure as your body trembles in his grasp.

The coil inside you finally snaps, releasing a wave of ecstasy that washes over you. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m coming, ah~ hmm~,” you cry out, your body going numb from the overwhelming pleasure. Your juices flow freely, spilling down and coating his cock as his thrusts become more intense, shaking your body upwards.

Dazai's growls of satisfaction mix with your moans as he thrusts upward forcefully, riding out his own climax. His body shudders with the release, and he moans loudly, his pleasure echoing through the room.

As the intense waves of pleasure begin to subside, Dazai slowly pulls out, his breath heavy and ragged. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close tenderly. The warmth of his embrace soothes you, bringing a sense of comfort and safety as you both calm down from your shared high. His fingers gently caress circles on your back, his breathing gradually steadying as he murmurs softly into your ear, “God, you did so well, my love.”

You watch him as he gets up, stretching slightly before heading towards the bathroom, the soft hum of water barely filling the room as he turns on the shower. The warmth of the bed still lingers around you, but it does little to quell the chill creeping into your thoughts.

Your mind drifts back to that moment a few days ago. The weight of the gun in your hand, the resistance of the trigger as you squeezed it—it's all so vivid, so real, that it feels as if you're still there, frozen in that moment. You can almost hear the echoes of the shot ringing in your ears, see the flash of surprise in his eyes as life slipped away from him.

You shake your head, trying to dispel the images, but they cling stubbornly, refusing to let go.

He calls your name from the shower, his voice gentle, inviting, yet tinged with concern when you don’t respond immediately. The sound is almost enough to pull you back, but your mind remains caught in that dark place, replaying the scene over and over.

"My love?" another call, softer this time, as he pushes the already ajar bathroom door further open to check on you. His presence pulls you back just enough to acknowledge him, to let the past slip away—at least for now.

His eyes meet yours, concern etched on his face. “Are you okay?”

You nod, forcing yourself to sit up. “I’m fine,” You managed to get off the bed, the cool air brushing against your naked skin, grounding you somewhat.

As you step into the bathroom, your body moves on autopilot, but your mind remains distant. You tell yourself that in a week or so, the memory will fade, that the guilt will lessen, that you’ll forget. But deep down, you know it's just another lie you’re feeding yourself, another attempt to bury the truth under layers of denial.

He steps aside to let you join him under the warm cascade of water, his arms wrapping around you as he senses your unease. “Hey,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you’re safe with me, my love.”

You nod, leaning into his embrace, but the words feel hollow, the comfort fleeting. The water washes over you, warm and soothing, but it can’t cleanse the darkness that lingers within.

You stood in front of the mirror, the dim light casting shadows on your face. Your reflection stared back at you, hollow eyes and a face pale from sleepless nights. The trauma of the past week weighed heavily on you, the memory of the blood-soaked room and the desperate cries of your ex replaying in your mind over and over again.

It had been a week since that horrifying event, but still the memory still clung to your mind like a stubborn stain. Dazai had been more affectionate than usual since then, uncharacteristically tender in his way.

The intimacy between you had taken on a new, softer turn, the moments shared tinged with an almost fragile gentleness. His eyes, once so sharp, now held an unsettling softness, as if he were trying to erase the darkness with his own brand of twisted comfort.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were trapped—caught in a web he’d spun so intricately that you hadn’t even noticed until it was too late.

You had tried to bury the memory, to push it away with every ounce of strength you had. But it never really left, lurking in the corners of your mind—what you had been forced to do.

You needed a break, a breath of fresh air, anything to push back the suffocating fog that had taken over your mind. So, you grabbed your coat, slipped into your favourite boots, and stepped out of your apartment, clinging to the hope of finding some shred of normalcy.

The bar was a refuge, a place where the world’s harsh edges seemed to dull. It was where you went to forget, even if only for a little while. As you walked through the door, the familiar clink of glasses and murmur of conversation welcomed you. The warmth inside, the smoky haze and soft jazz music they all played a part into easing you up even for a bit.

You made your way to the bar, your usual seat already occupied. The bartender greeted you with a nod, his understanding gaze a small comfort. You ordered your drink and settled into your chair, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness from the past week.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. You picked it up and saw a message from Chuuya: "Hey, just checking in. Are you okay? I’m worried about you."

You typed back: "I’m fine, just needed some time to clear my head. At the bar now, trying to relax a bit." You hit send and put your phone down, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

That's when you heard a familiar voice. You looked up and saw Kaito standing there, a surprise that made your heart skip. It had been years since you last saw him. He was the one who had helped you escape from your ex's grip, the only person who had reached out to pull you from that nightmare.

“Hey..." he said, his voice warm but edged with worry. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You gestured to the empty seat beside you. “Sit. I could use the company.”

Kaito slid into the chair, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You look... different. Is everything okay?”

The question was like a trigger, a floodgate that opened the dam of your emotions. You looked away, taking a deep breath. “It’s been... a rough week.”

He looked at you concerned, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he ordered a drink, and the two of you sat in silence for a while, before he broke the silence.

“I heard your ex went missing. I just wanted to check in...uh...make sure you’re alright. I know how much he hurt you.”

The mention of your ex was like a punch to the gut, the memory of that night resurfacing with cruel clarity. You struggled to keep your composure, taking a sip of your drink to steady yourself. “I... I don’t know what happened to him.”

Kaito’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. “I just wanted to make sure he’s not plotting anything or trying to reach you again. I know what he put you through.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. “Thank you...but seriously I don't know anything about him.”

Before Kaito could respond, your phone buzzed again. You glanced at it and saw a new message from Chuuya: “If you need anything, I’m here for you.”

You were about to reply when Kaito’s voice broke through your thoughts. “ You okay? You seem a bit lost."

You forced a smile, brushing off the concern. “It’s nothing. I just needed a bit of air.”

You stood up, glancing at Kaito. “It was really nice seeing you after all tonight.”

You placed a few yen on the bar as a tip and offered Kaito a final, appreciative look before heading towards the door. Stepping out into the cool night air, you took a deep breath, hoping the walk would clear your head. Hearing the door swung shut behind you.

The crisp breeze brushed against your face as you began walking down the pavement, each step attempting to ground you in the present, you tried to focus on the rhythmic sound of your footsteps, letting the chill seep through your coat and numb your thoughts.

Just as you were beginning to lose yourself in the soothing cadence of the night, a familiar voice cut through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. It was a voice you knew too well, one that you loved the most—Dazai’s.

Turning slowly, you saw him standing there, his figure framed by the dim streetlights.

“Out for a late-night stroll?” His voice was low and smooth so so smooth.

"Osamu" You whispered his name, barely audible over the street noise, as he approached you. His tall frame seemed to shield you from the harsh cold breeze that had been nipping at your skin.

His arms reached out, pulling you into a desperate, intense embrace. The warmth of his body pierced through the biting cold of the night. You closed your eyes, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his captivating perfume that you were addicted to.

“How are you feeling, my love?” the vibrations of his soft voice soothed you.

You murmured a reply, “Fine,” nuzzling your face into his warm chest. His coat offered a cocoon of comfort against the cold. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that both soothed and troubled you. His soft, cold lips brushed gentle kisses against your hairline, each touch leaving you wanting more.

Dazai’s gaze softened as he tilted your head gently, his fingers brushing against your cheeks with tender.

His lips, still cold from the evening air, found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. The sensation was electric, a jolt of warmth that spread through you, making you forget the cold that had been clinging to you just moments before.

Your lips parted slightly, and you felt his bottom lip against yours, his kiss deepening as he traced a path of warmth across your mouth. His hands roamed softly over your body, every touch sending shivers down your spine.

When he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours filled with affection. “I’ve got a surprise for you, my love,” he whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

“A surprise?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper as your heart fluttered. The night’s chill seemed to dissipate as you gazed up at him, eager to discover what he had under his sleeve.

Dazai’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he said, “Follow me, my love.” He guided you through the city streets, leading you to his penthouse—an opulent space you were intimately familiar with. As you entered, the familiar strains of soft jazz filled the room, its soothing melodies filled your ears.

You shrugged off your coat and sank into the nearby couch, glancing up at him curious.

“You know how much I cherish you, don’t you?”

You nodded, a shiver running down your spine. What is he intending to do?

“And you remember when I swore to protect you with my life, back when we shared our first night together?” His eyes bore into yours, searching for affirmation.

Again, you nodded, feeling a knot of unease tightening in your stomach.

He reached out and took your hand, leading you to a door you had never entered before. He typed in a series of digits, and the door slid open with a soft whoosh. What lay beyond sent a jolt of shock through you: Kaito, tied up against the wall with chains, his eyes wide with fear.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you stared at the scene in disbelief.

Dazai’s gaze on you never wavered. “You recognize him, don’t you? The one who claimed to be your savior,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of derision. “Kaito, the one who helped you escape. Such a noble act, don’t you think?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the sight before you. “No... no, this can’t be real,” you stammered, the words spilling from your lips in a disbelieving murmur. “This isn’t happening. Not again.”

Dazai stepped closer, his expression both smug and infuriatingly calm. “Isn’t it? How often have you been deceived by those who promised you protection and safety? This was no different.”

You shook your head, trying to process the absurdity of it all. “But Kaito—he was different! He helped me when I needed it most. You don't understand he's the only one who saved me from my ex.”

The disillusionment in your voice only seemed to amuse Dazai. “And you think that makes him any less of a threat? How easily you’ve been misled. Did you ever consider that he was simply another pawn in your ex’s game? A way to keep you within his reach?”

Your gaze shifted to Kaito, who was now looking at you with desperation. The realization that Dazai might be telling the truth hit you like a physical blow. “No, he can’t be. He was... he was kind to me. He never hurt me.”

Dazai’s gaze was unrelenting, his tone dripping with cold logic. “Kindness can be deceiving. Sometimes, it’s just a means to an end. Kaito’s actions were a calculated move, meant to keep you under control, to make you trust him while feeding information to your ex.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you faced Dazai, the weight of his words crushing you. “You’re... you’re insane! You can’t do this to me again. STOP IT STOP HURTING ME!”

Dazai’s hand reached up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold and unyielding, the warmth of his voice now a sharp contrast to the icy anger in his eyes. “I’m not insane. I’m showing you the truth, my love. Kaito was never your friend. If you don’t make a choice now, I will choose for you.”

The room seemed to close in around you, your heart pounding wildly. You were ensnared between the echoes of your past and the oppressive reality Dazai had crafted, desperately searching for an escape from the nightmare he had ensnared you in.

Dazai's lips curved into a passionate smile as he placed the cold, heavy gun into your trembling hands. The weapon, tainted with the blood of your ex, seemed to burn with its own malevolent energy. His eyes gleamed with a twisted sense of pride.

“Come on, my love,” he urged, his voice laced with a seductive intensity. “Take control of your own life. Show everyone that you’re not someone to be trifled with. Make them fear you. No one dares to hurt you again.”

His words echoed through the room, mingling with the suffocating tension that surrounded you. The weight of the gun felt like a cruel burden, a symbol of the power Dazai was forcing upon you.

As you looked at Kaito, bound and vulnerable, a storm of emotions raged inside you. Dazai’s gaze remained unwavering, his expectations clear: the choice was yours to make, but his influence loomed over every decision.

The gun felt like a leaden weight in your hands, the reality of the situation crashing down upon you. Tears streamed down your face as you crumpled, the gun slipping from your grasp and clattering to the floor. Your voice, choked with despair, broke through the oppressive silence.

“I can’t do this again... not again,” you sobbed, shaking your head furiously. You pulled your legs to your chest, curling up in a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the cruelty of Dazai’s demands.

Dazai’s expression shifted from steely determination to a weary sigh. With a resigned shake of his head, he stepped forward, reclaiming the gun from where it had fallen. His movements were deliberate, almost tender, as he aimed it at Kaito, who stared back in terror.

Three shots rang out, each one echoing with finality. The sound was deafening, reverberating through the room and drowning out your anguished cries. The finality of the act left you in stunned silence, your body trembling as you remained huddled on the floor, the gravity of what had just occurred sinking in.

“No... you didn’t...” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Your eyes were fixed on the lifeless form of Kaito, disbelief and anguish washing over you.

Dazai’s sigh was heavy with disappointment as he shook his head slowly. “I’m disappointed in you, my love,” he said, his voice carrying a cold edge. “You couldn’t take control of your life this time. You think I’m the one hurting you? They’re the ones who’ve been hurting you all along.”

His gaze was unwavering, a mixture of pity and resolve in his eyes as he stepped closer. “I did this to protect you from them, to ensure that you’re never vulnerable again. It’s always been about keeping you safe from those who would harm you. I did what was necessary to shield you from your past.”

You shook your head violently, the world around you spinning as you scrambled to your feet. Adrenaline surged through your veins, propelling you to the door. You flung it open and sprinted down the hall, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Where are you going my love, please come back.” His footsteps pounded after you. “Don’t do this. I love you! This is meaningless—everything I did was to protect you!”

But you couldn’t bear to hear him anymore. “I want to stay away from you!” you screamed, your voice cracking with raw desperation.

You burst out of his penthouse and into the cold night air, the chill biting at your exposed skin. Your vision blurred with tears, making the city lights shimmer and swirl. You fumbled for your phone, dialing Chuuya’s number with trembling fingers.

The line rang a few times before a sleepy voice answered, muffled by grogginess. “Chuuya...” you gasped between breaths. “I—I'm leaving. I—will run away from here. He did it again, Chuuya.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by Chuuya’s urgent voice, now fully awake. “Where are you? Are you safe? Just stay on the line. I’m coming to get you.”

Your voice trembled as you spoke into the phone, trying to keep your words steady despite the panic swelling inside you. “Chuuya, no… don’t come. Please. I don’t want you to get into trouble. I’ll… I’ll manage to get away by myself.”

Chuuya’s voice was firm and insistent. “Don’t be stupid. I’m coming. Just tell me where you are.”

You forced yourself to keep moving, trying to steady your breath despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “Chuuya, listen to me,” you said, your voice shaking. “I just called to let you know. I need you to stay out of this. It’s too dangerous. I can’t risk you getting hurt because of me.”

“I don’t like this at all. You’re obviously not okay. I need to be there with you.” You could hear the sounds of him hurriedly getting dressed in the background.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya, but I can't-” you said firmly.

Before he could protest further, you ended the call, the sound of the disconnect echoing in the quiet of the night.

You made your way through the winding streets, heading towards a nondescript building nestled away from prying eyes. It had been your refuge years before, a place where you could escape the chaos and find peace in solitude. Now, it was the final sanctuary you turned to as you prepared to leave everything behind.

The old studio was just as you remembered it—dusty but comforting, filled with the quiet hum of memories. You approached the closet where you had stored a suitcase, its worn exterior a testament to its many years of service. You opened it, the familiar smell of old leather and fabric greeting you.

With calculated movements, you began packing the clothes you’d kept from simpler times—soft sweaters, faded jeans, and a few cherished pieces that held fragments of your past. Each item you folded and placed into the suitcase carried a piece of who you used to be, the person you were before the mafia and before Dazai.

As you worked, the thought of leaving Dazai behind gnawed at you, filling you with an intense, suffocating agony. Despite everything he had done, the idea of severing ties with him was a painful wrenching of the heart. Yet, the realization that staying would only bring more torment drove you to continue, each movement of packing a silent affirmation of your resolve.

You zipped up the suitcase, the sound of the closure echoing in the empty room. The decision to leave the city and all its shadows behind was a heavy one, but necessary. With a final glance around the studio, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the journey ahead. The train would take you far from this place, and despite the heartache, you knew it was the only way forward.

Before you could make another move, a voice cut through the silence of the studio. "My love, are you leaving me?" The words were laced with a deep sadness, sending a jolts all over your body.

You spun around, disbelief etched across your face. "How did you find me?" you demanded, your voice trembling.

Dazai stood in the doorway with a hurt expression written all over his face.

He stepped closer sighing, "The bracelet,” he said quietly, holding up your wrist to reveal the piece of jewelry you had thought was a mere token of affection given to you two years ago. “It has a tracker embedded in it. I had it activated in case you were ever in danger.”

The weight of his words hit you like a physical blow. The realization that he had been monitoring you all along, even in your attempts to escape, left you reeling. You stared at him, your resolve faltering but your heart aching with an overwhelming confusion.

“Why did you have to follow me?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Why can’t you just let me go?”

He took another step closer, his gaze pleading. “Because I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I know you're probably thinking that I’m just some insane man who’s only hurting you. But you have to understand, my actions come from a place of deep love. I need you to see past the madness and understand how much you mean to me.”

"Is this how you show love, Dazai? By trapping me and manipulating me?" you said, your voice trembling. "You don't get to decide what's best for me by controlling every aspect of my life."

Dazai's expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I’m twisted and flawed, but I thought... I thought that if I could keep you close, I could protect you from everything else. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You shook your head, the finality of your decision settling in. “You’ve hurt me more than you know. I can’t stay here. I can't stay anxious, wondering who you’ll force me to kill next.”

Dazai’s eyes grew darker, his voice tainted with desperation. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. Everything I did was to keep you safe in comtrol of your own life, even if it means making terrible choices.”

You scoffed, “Safe? You forced me to kill my ex! And then Kaito?”

Dazai’s face tightened. “He was a traitor. He manipulated you all this time. I told you.”

“Even if!” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you think I wanted them dead? I never wanted any of this! You think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is turning my life into a nightmare, forcing me to make impossible choices.”

He reached out, but you flinched away. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I know I’ve gone too far. I only wanted to protect you, but I see now that I’ve lost sight of what’s right.”

The realization hit you hard. “Lost sight of what’s right? You’ve lost sight of everything that matters. I’m leaving, Dazai. I can’t stay here any longer.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with pain, that you've never seen before, “Please, don’t go. I’ll do anything to make this right. Just... stay and let me fix this.”

You shook your head, “It’s too late. I can’t trust you anymore. I need to get away from this life, from you. Goodbye, Dazai.”

Turning around you held the suitcase tightly, your hand shaking as you reached for the door. Just as you were about to open it, the sharp click of a gun safety being disengaged froze you in place.

You turned slowly, your eyes widening in horror as you saw Dazai standing there. The cold, manipulative mafia boss you had come to fear and loathe was now a broken man, his usual confident demeanor shattered. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the sweat of his desperate resolve.

The gun was pressed against his temple, his hand trembling slightly. His gaze was locked onto you, the anguish in his eyes more raw than you’d ever seen. The sight was a gut-wrenching contrast to the man you had known—this was not the calculating Dazai but a man at the edge of his sanity, driven to an extreme.

“Don’t... don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. “Dazai, put the gun down.”

His tears fell faster, “If you leave, I can’t bear it. I’d rather end it all than live with the fact that I lost you.”

You took a step toward him, the suitcase slipping from your grip as fear and heartbreak twisted inside you. “Dazai, please. Put the gun down. We can figure this out.”

His voice trembled, a fragile whisper on the brink of breaking. “I never valued life until you entered mine. If you choose to leave, then I too must follow.”

You rushed towards him, heart pounding with desperation. As you approached, you gently took the gun from his trembling hand, lowering it to the floor. His body crumpled, and he collapsed into your embrace, clutching you tightly as if afraid you might vanish.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you whispered soothingly, your own voice trembling as you tried to calm him. You stroked his brunet soft hair gently, your heart aching as you held him close. “It’s okay. I’m here. We’ll figure this out together.”

His sobs were muffled against your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven as he clung to you. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry I'm sorry.”

You continued to soothe him, the weight of his despair pressing heavily on your chest. You could see through his anguish, past the facade of his calculated mind to the raw, broken man beneath. Even as his twisted personality had driven him to force your hand, there was no denying the genuine love he felt—a love that, despite its darkness, was deeply real.

The room, dim and cold, was filled with the sound of his muffled sobs, each breath a testament to his remorse and anguish. You held him tightly, trying to offer comfort, though your own heart ached with uncertainty. You knew too well the manipulative games he played, but in this moment, you could see the truth in him. His despair was not a ploy, but a genuine expression of his torment and love.

Gently, you reached up and removed the soaked bandage from his eye. His gaze locked onto yours, filled with a sorrow so profound it was almost unbearable. His face was etched with the pain of his past actions, and as you held him, you admired his beautiful brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw and fragile. “I’ll never do this again. I promise. I never wanted to hurt you. I was desperate, and I let my own twisted mind control me. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll do everything to make this right. Please... stay with me.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerable man who had been pushed to extremes. The cold dim room seemed to shrink around you, the shadows of his past mistakes lingering but overshadowed by his sincere apology. You took a deep breath, your own heart softening despite the pain.

“I’m here,” you whispered back, your voice was soothing him.

He nodded against your shoulder, his sobs gradually subsiding as he clung to you.

“Despite everything... despite your scheming and the cold, manipulative persona you put up, you have no idea how much I love you,” you whispered, the words heavy with the depth of your emotions.

Dazai’s eyes softened as he met your gaze, his voice trembling as he replied, “I love you too, my dear.”

With those words, he kissed you softly, his lips warm and tender against yours. The delicate caress of his kiss pulled you closer, making you surrender to the embrace he offered. In that fleeting moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the solace of his arms and the twisted love you shared.

➵Want more of Osamu Dazai ?

[kaciidubs]

hey kacii boo 💞 i have a request if that’s okay?

hear me out ☝️

a/b/o OT8 skz x omega reader and reader finds out she is pregnant? the boys start noticing her acting different and she accidentally leaves a pregnancy test on the counter, causing the boys to see. When she gets home, the boys sit her down and talk to her about it ending in group cuddles from the boys 🫶🏻

I'm in love with this, truly! ❣ Word Count: 1.9k [I did not mean to type that much] ❣ Warnings: A/B/O Poly! SKZ x Omega! Reader, pregnancy, angst if you squint, mention of birth control, fluff, comfort ❣ Additional Tags: Mentions of Chris being an alpha, Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin being omegas as the only specific pack roles, no clear mated pairings within the pack but it's sort of Chris x Reader centered toward the end

It would begin with the most intuitive of the pack members noticing your extremely slight deviation from your usual routines - Felix.

He was a fellow omega, like Jisung and Hyunjin, but he was the most aware of everyone's trends and habits; which meant it was immediately apparent to him that something was wrong when you start doing small things like wearing pajama pants around the house as opposed to your favorite, work out pajama shorts.

Eventually, the small things he noticed began to grow into big things that the rest of his pack mates would catch onto, such as the way you turned away your favorite snacks when Changbin offered them, or the way you couldn't seem to stand the smell of Seungmin's shampoo though you spent countless nights washing his hair with the same product before. There was even one night where you snapped at Jeongin when he tried cuddling up to you when you least expected it, then immediately started crying because you felt bad.

Since that night you'd resorted to staying in the "guest room", which was simply a spare room for anyone who needed their own space for some time - which was highly disliked by each of your pack mates, but they wouldn't take away your decision.

One day, when you were out running a few errands, Minho was the brave soul who would venture into your temporary room to do a bathroom sweep to clean and take out any trash. What he didn't expect, however, was the waft of an overly sweet scent overwhelming his senses the second he opened the door - nor was he expecting to stumble across a plastic pregnancy test on the counter.

When you walked through the front door, reusable bags in hand, you were met with eight pairs of eyes staring at you, freezing you in place as you stared back with worried confusion.

"Um... Hi?"

The mix of scents usually eased you, but with the thick layer of anticipation and worry threaded throughout, you weren't sure what to expect.

"Kitten, can you come sit with us for a minute?" Minho offered softly as Changbin was the first to stand, walking over to take the bags from your hands and bring them to the kitchen for the time being.

Left with no other choice, you walked into the living room and sat in the empty space between Felix and Hyunjin; Jisung sliding onto the floor to rest against your leg while Jeongin and Seungmin settled against the opposite, before Changbin filled the space behind Hyunjin while Minho remained next to Felix.

Easing into the comfortable, impromptu cuddle puddle, you figured the impending discussion was going to be simple until Chris stood before the group - directly in front of you.

"Love... You know you can tell us anything, right?"

You bristled at his cautious tone, though the feeling of Hyunjin's hand grazing against your own eased your guard. "I know I can - what's this about?"

"You've been acting different lately, and at first we just thought it was because of a period, or a new symptom of your heat coming up, but then you started avoiding food and smells, and isolating yourself from us." Chris tried his best to keep his tone level, to keep the authority that swelled within him at a tolerable value, but his unwavering gaze showed all of his emotions. "Then Minho found this-" reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the same device that had thrown you into a panicked fit, so much so that you had to leave the house for a sudden errand run, "-and it all started to make sense. Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant, love?"

A pang of shame shot through your heart like an arrow, and judging by the disheartened whines from the boys immediately around you, they already felt the shift within you.

"We aren't upset, Jagi," Jisung pouted up at you as he nudged your thigh with his nose, round eyes filled with love.

Hyunjin nodded against your shoulder, bringing your hand up to press a soft kiss to the back, "We're just worried about you, muse."

A shivering breath rattled through you as you blinked back hot tears, looking up at the eldest, the head alpha among your unlikely pack.

"C-Chris, I- I don't-" You sniffled, cursing the tremble in your voice, "I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, I swear - I knew something was different but I didn't want to assume anything until I took the test last night and-" Biting back a sob, you felt a soft touch against your cheek - Minho's hand wiping away a stray tear. "I just... I didn't know how to say it so I went out to clear my head and figure out the words to say to you - to everyone because I- I'm not sure who got me pregnant! I didn't even skip my birth control, for fucks sake!"

This wasn't planned - despite a few discussions here and there about the potential idea of introducing pups in the future, none of you had done the true mating bond to solidify who would be the one to directly grow the pack with you, and the stress of it all had pushed you to isolation without you even realizing until you'd moved yourself to the guest room.

"Bunny, please take a breath for us." Changbin pleaded, leaning over so you could have a clear view of his comforting gaze, "You know none of us would be any type of hurt over who's pup you're carrying, not when it's the miracle of you being the one bearing them. It doesn't matter who did it, we'll figure that out when the time comes, all that matters is you being healthy and cared for - no more isolating."

"Bin's right," Chris piped up once more, drawing all attention to him with ease, "all we want to do is make sure you're okay - no matter how sudden this is, I don't think any of us weren't aware of something like this potentially happening. None of this is anyone's fault, none of ours and none of yours, you hear me?"

Nodding softly, you smiled at the subtle sensation of Seungmin squeezing your calf in a hug of sorts while Jeongin nuzzled against your thigh.

Minho cleared his throat softly, leaning forward to take your free hand within his, "I... I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy, Kitten - I would never look through your things without you knowing, and I'm sorry for not going to you first."

You squeezed his hand, looking at him with warm, glimmering eyes, "It's okay, Min, I know you meant well - I'm not mad at you at all. Honestly, it would've only been a matter of time until someone clocked it was pregnancy, anyways."

"You do have a new smell, Pup." Seungmin muttered from the floor, Jeongin nodding alongside him.

"Felix thought you were falling out of the pack - Chan had to talk him off the ledge," Jisung laughed, earning a few chuckles from Changbin and Hyunjin at the recollection of the memory.

The blond whined, lips pursed into a pout, "I was worried we did something wrong! I'm sorry I'm the only one who thinks of these things!"

Cooing, you nudged the side of your head against his, "It's okay, Lixie, there's no way I'd ever think of leaving any of you, you guys are my home."

He hummed softly, and you could feel the cuddle puddle slowly begin to set in but there was one final thing missing before you could truly feel at ease with the situation.

Untangling yourself from the tangle of bodies and arms, you made your way toward the eldest who was watching the scene with warm eyes and a soft smile - something he'd taken a liking to doing when he thought he wasn't being watched.

Without a moment to spare, you wrapped your arms around his middle, melting into the familiar mahogany and coconut scent as his arms wrapped around you in kind, securing you in a natural protective hold.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Channie." You murmured into his chest before leaning back to look at him, "And I'm sorry for not saying anything when I first felt off, I genuinely didn't think it could've been this."

"You don't have to apologize, baby, you were only doing what you felt was right at the time." Pausing for a moment, he studied your face slowly, "I know this whole conversation was a lot to throw at you so soon, but I just want to make sure... Are you okay with this? Do you want to have a baby right now?"

You nodded before he could even fully finish his second question, "I'm sure - I know I was scared on how to say it, but I never felt scared about not being able to take care of this baby, not when I have the world's most amazing pack to raise it in."

It was the truth, there wasn't a single doubt within you that made you believe that having a pup would be difficult in the pack - it was a possibility, a thought that had been floated around enough to start considering the full mating process, and now was the time to turn that thought into a processing reality.

A deep rumble vibrated through Chris's chest and he ducked his head in an attempt to hide away from the blush that had already consumed his ears, the sound making you melt against his body and draw the attention of the seven boys watching from their seats.

"Someone's happy to be a dad," Hyunjin teased with a grin, earning a scoff from Minho.

"Who says it's him?"

"I'm just saying it cause of his reaction! Technically we're all dads until she gets a scent tie, so why can't I place my bet now?"

Jisung groaned, "Placing bets on a baby is so inhumane... I bet it's Changbin's."

"What?! Why is my name in this now? What if it's Jeongin's?"

The youngest made a sound that could only be best described as confused shock as his head shot up to look at the man, "Listen, I'd be honored, but I can say for a fact it wasn't me! I'm too young to be a father!"

"That's not what you were saying when-"

Chris cleared his throat with a pointed look, "Okay, how about we not have this debate and go cuddle and think about dinner, yeah?"

With that, the mini crowd dispersed in a jumble of comments, heading down the hall toward his room since - in an ironic retrospect - that's where the biggest bed was put.

As the living room grew quieter, he looked at you with warm eyes, "I have a feeling it's mine."

You laughed in shock, hitting his chest lightly, "What happened to 'let's not have this debate', Mr. Bang?"

"It's not a debate! It's just a... speculation, a theory, if you will." He murmured softly, leaning down to press his lips to yours in a quick kiss. "Now come on, the last time that combination went into my room, they turned my bed into a wrestling ring and I just found a replacement for my lamp online."

Letting him lead you down the hall, a soft smile settled onto your lips as your free hand came to subconsciously rest over your stomach - the pride of the new life growing within you and the one changing before your eyes filling you with a new sense of optimism and anticipation.

[unedited]

[prettymonegasque]

Can you maybe write smut about Charles and Lando after their 2-3 finish in Australia? <3

Charlando x Reader (Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris)

A/N: I got a little (very) carried away

Warnings: Straight up porn with absolutely no plot'

Seeing your boyfriends soak each other with champagne on the podium turned you on more than you expected. It was their first podium together in over 4 years. They celebrated like starved men and you wanted to feed them. You got to Charles’ driver's room as fast as you could knowing that’s where they’ll be headed.

A few minutes later, your very sweaty boyfriends entered the room deep in conversation. They didn’t see you lying on the bed with nothing but a pair of red lingerie that left very little to the imagination. Charles was the first to notice you and he had to do a double take to believe what was before him. Lando saw his boyfriend’s jaw drop and followed his eyeline.

“Hi boys” You called out softly. “Fuck” “Putain” You giggled at their surprised faces. “Baby anyone could’ve walked in on you” Charles breathed out as he walked to you. “That’s what makes it more exciting huh? Anyone walking in and seeing how I’m laid out for my sexy winner boyfriends waiting for them to fuck me good.” He let out a groan and dropped his trophy on the floor. “Lando look at our little slut so desperate for us.” Lando was in a trance. He looked at you like a mad man but he didn’t move.

“Lan. You okay?” You pulled yourself up slightly worried. “Lay the fuck down” He demanded without blinking. Charles turned to see him. Lando wasn’t usually the one to be dominant. He was glad to let you both take the reins. But clearly, something had come onto him today. He got in front of Charles and kissed him so hard, that the poor guy stumbled a little. Lando was quick to undo both their race suits without breaking the kiss.

You couldn’t help but slide your fingers down your body. Charles finally broke the kiss to catch his breath and looked flushed. Lando turned to see you touching yourself through your panties. “Aw, my baby couldn’t even wait till I finished kissing him huh? So impatient” He tutted and harshly pushed your fingers away.

“Charlie finished second. Don’t you think he should be the first to cum today?” He got to work pulling down Charles’ boxers and taking his swollen cock in his mouth. Charles groaned and whined but he felt helpless and had no choice but to watch his boyfriend ravage him. You moaned at the filthy sight in front of you and squirmed in your place unable to do anything. Charles could feel himself getting close and he pleaded Lando not to stop. But the little shit had other plans as he pulled his cock out and smiled innocently. “Merde. Why would you do that amour? I was so close” Charles felt like he could cry.

“I want you to cum in her baby. She obviously wants us to fill her up and let everyone know who she belongs to. Look at her, we haven’t even touched her and she already looks like she’s about to cum.” Lando got rid of his boxers and pulled you to the end of the bed by your leg. He admired your body for a good minute before kneeling and tearing the tiny fabric of your body. He licked a long stripe on your pussy while Charles crawled on the bed to kiss you, swallowing your moans. Lando sucked your clit and fingered you, forcing an orgasm out of you.

You had to muster every bit of energy to not scream and let the entire Ferrari Motorhome know about your little sex capades. You didn’t have much time to recover before you were on fours and Charles lining up on your ass. Lando stood in front of you with his cock in his hand. Both your boyfriends pushed their cocks in it at the same time and you wanted to scream in pain but you stuck to sucking the cock in your mouth like there’s no tomorrow. It was their turn to now hold back their moans and avoid making any loud noises.

Charles pounded mercilessly in your ass while spanking it. “Fuck look at our slut Lando. Taking us both so well. If only everyone could see you now baby. Letting yourself be used by not one but two F1 drivers.”  “Look at how helpless she looks Charlie. Wish I could take a picture of this baby.” He moaned and fucked your face harder.

  “Putain. I’m getting close. I’m gonna cum baby. Do you want me to put a baby in you huh? Should I do it Lando? Make her look all nice and swollen for us.” Charles moaned out. “Do it Cha. Fucking cum in her. Let everyone know who she belongs to.” That was enough to tip them off the edge as they both came in you. Caution was out the window as the room was filled with pornographic noises. You were dripping from all your holes.

A minute later when you all caught your breath, they pulled out of you and you whined at the instant emptiness. Your boyfriends snuggled to you from both sides and held you tight while your body relaxed. “Was it too much baby?” Charles asked as Lando gently moved your hair out of your face. “No, it’s okay. I’m good” You smiled at him. “I hope you both realise this is only round 1. Next time I get to fill her up.”

[gyusimp]

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 [𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭]

ᵀʸˢᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᴺᔆᶠᵂ ᵛᵉʳˢⁱᵒⁿ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ! ⁽ᵁ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ⁱᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ⁾

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I feel that Kenji's affection will depend on a few factors such as his mood and the length of time he's been in a relationship with you. As for the first one: If he feels stressed from work or in a bad mood, he'll probably pull away and you'll be the one to initiate some affection to make him feel better, which works most of the time. If he's really upset about something, then it would be better to give him space but that almost never happens, you usually help him feel better. And the second one: Kenji would be very clingy. If your relationship is just starting, it's probably still a bit difficult for him to show his affection because he'd still feel very shy but as the months go by he'll become more confident. The more time has passed, the more confident he'll feel and then he won't be able to be around you without hugging you from behind, holding your hand or touching your hair. Also, lots of short kisses just because.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He would be a very reliable friend, you can tell him anything that is happening to you and he will always listen to you and tell you what he thinks or give you advice if you ask him. Kenji is someone who would answer your messages almost immediately if he is not busy or call you on the phone to see how your day is going and stuff like that. He would be a very considerate friend and always remembers little details about you like your favorite genre of music, how long you have been at your new job or what time you usually go to sleep.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He LOVES to cuddle. Most of the time he will be the big spoon but he also loves to feel you hug him from behind with your arms and legs and then roll over to lay his head on your chest. Something he often does is if he wakes up in the middle of the night and sees that you are a little far away from him in bed, he will simply grab you by the waist and pull you really close to him to hug you and wrap his legs around you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think he's used to getting help with things and Mina's company could make him a little lazy sometimes but not too much, he still lives alone and must be a responsible adult for himself but if he decides to live with you then all the housework will be shared between the two of you and if there are things he's not very good at like cooking, he'll do his best to make you proud of him (always tell him how proud you are, he loves your little encouragements too much and secretly needs your approval to know that he's doing well).

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He's someone with a high ego, so in front of people, interviews or similar things he won't even mention the subject, he'll say that everything is still fine with him and he'll only focus on baseball and himself. But what happens when he gets home? He won't stop reading all your messages because he secretly still saves your chat, it's inevitable for him to cry in frustration sometimes and if the breakup was his fault he'll blame himself every day. It would be hard for him to get over you and even though he doesn't have any friends, he wouldn't have anyone else to talk to about how he feels, and he usually keeps everything he feels to himself to avoid feeling or showing himself vulnerable.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I've thought that it's a subject that wouldn't be taken lightly at all, if he starts a relationship then it's because he knows the person so well that he even has intentions of getting married. He's not one for dating or casual encounters, he'll ask you to be his girlfriend after many months/years of friendship and knowing every little thing about you which makes him fall in love with you even more so when you're a formal couple he's already thought about marrying you one day and sometimes you both talk about it. He's not afraid of that kind of commitment so it depends on how everything goes during your relationship for him to ask you to marry him, it could take 8 months or 2 years you never know.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s absolutely such a gentleman, we can even see in the movie how he considerately leaves money and pays the bill at the restaurant before running off to find Emi in the city even though it’s unforeseen. GOD! IS THERE ANYTHING THIS MAN DOESN’T DO RIGHT!? and he’ll unconsciously do all that kind of cheesy stuff with you. He’ll open doors for you to go through before him, he’ll pull out a chair for you to sit on, he’ll make you walk on the safe side of the sidewalk while he stays on the curb, and a lot of forehead and hand kisses at random times when you’re in a public place and he’s reserved enough to kiss you on the lips.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He doesn't like hugs. He likes YOUR hugs, that's the difference. He seems like someone who might get uncomfortable with a lot of physical contact but if it's you then he has no problem with it. He'll let you pull him into your arms whenever you want and stay still, he also loves to hug you from behind when you're doing something else.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It won't be quick, maybe at first he'll feel a bit afraid to say it even though he really feels it because he's afraid it will be too quick but when he does it he won't think about it so much. He'll let you know and after that he'll feel calmer and he won't stop telling you every chance he gets.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I don't see Kenji being a jealous or possessive boyfriend and since you love him so much you wouldn't do anything to make him jealous just to annoy him. If he does get jealous it would be because of people around you that seem to have intentions towards you or if some random guy sees you on the street, he'll hug you by the shoulders or put one of his hands right inside the back pocket of your jeans you know, little gestures to say "she's mine".

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

If he's tender, his kisses are usually short and soft but if he's more needy then he'll capture your whole mouth with his in an intense and needy way without letting go. He really likes to kiss your lips but if he can't do it for certain reasons then your cheek and forehead are still in his ranking, he loves to kiss your collarbones or stomach in more intimate moments. He likes you to kiss his lips of course but you always provoke a little tender laugh in him when you kiss the bridge of his nose or his cheeks in an unsuspecting way. He also feels how his chest jumps when you kiss the palm of his hand.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He doesn't really like children, you can see the look on his face when Chiho interrupts the interview at the beginning of the movie BUT he doesn't dislike all children. He might smile sometimes when he sees a baby doing something cute on TikTok or on the street, well behaved children who don't cause trouble maybe that type is more tolerable for him. Sometimes he thinks about what it would be like if he had his own children with you, they would be very spoiled but he would raise them well.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He is a busy man so most of the time he wakes up very early to exercise and train but when he has free time he takes advantage of every minute by your side. Our man hates mornings! So he is always very grateful when he can afford to sleep after 6:00 am and it is much better when you are asleep next to him and you are the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I think for some reason Kenji has a really high resistance to staying up late so if you're not sleepy either you two will probably just settle down on the couch or in bed to watch a few too many episodes of the series you started watching together or movies as well. When he's asleep his sleep isn't that heavy since he has to be alert for the kaiju alarm so if you get up to go to the bathroom, get a drink of water or whatever he'll wake up and ask you what happen. The good thing is that he can fall back asleep after that.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He's a little distrustful, not because he doesn't trust you but because he's afraid of what you might think of him. Remember when Emi breaks her arm and his dad comes to help him? The first thing Kenji says is "I don't want you to scold me, judge me or criticize me" (Something like that) So our pookie is always aware of what the people important to him might think of him about the things he does. Not to mention that it's quite difficult for him to express his deepest feelings or thoughts because he thinks that being vulnerable is a bad thing and he shouldn't allow it but after a few months of your relationship have passed and you've decided to tell him private or personal things then that gives him confidence to try it too little by little. He's grateful that you've trusted him to open up emotionally so he wants to show you that you're just as important but I feel like he wouldn't do it in less than 1 month.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has no patience with himself, he wants everything to go well for him always but when it comes to you he is the calmest and most patient person in the world. Imagine that you are someone with zero knowledge of baseball, you have barely seen a few minutes of a game on TV and you never understand what the hell is going on. Then as someone more than an expert on the subject, he will sit down with you and explain everything in detail, looking for examples of a topic in which you are an expert to make you understand it better and so the next time you see one of his games you can talk better about the subject. It doesn't matter if it is something other than baseball that he has to teach you, he will do it with great pleasure and will never get irritated with you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers EVERYTHING. Your birthday, anniversary, first date, first kiss, first I love you. He has a good memory lol plus he schedules details like that in Mina so she reminds him days before if he has plans to buy you something nice. You never have to worry about him forgetting an important date in your relationship, he's always the first text on your phone to wish you a happy birthday (he texts you right at 12:00).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Maybe it could be his first kiss, you would be the first person he has kissed so being able to experience it with you makes it even more special. Sometimes that memory comes to his mind and makes him smile immediately involuntarily longing to be close to you as soon as he can.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Kenji is very protective of you, but not too much so that it's suffocating. As Ultraman, he must take care of all of Tokyo, but you will always be his priority, although he worries that despite being a superhero, his lack of experience in that area is not enough to keep you away from all dangers, which often distresses him. He will always be there for you, from a serious danger where he has to protect you as Ultraman to running towards you to comfort you after hearing you scream if there was a bug too close to you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

We know that he is someone who is financially stable (too stable) so he never has limits when it comes to you. Sometimes you are at work and you receive flowers from him, just flowers, but they came from the most expensive store in all of Japan. Sometimes you point out something nice in the mall just because but he ends up buying it for you so now you take good care of what you look at because everything you touch ends up being a gift for you later and you don't want him to think that you are interested in his money. You have told him that he doesn't have to do it but he continues. The dates are regularly at 5 star restaurants, weekends at the beach or abroad or more private clubs, mostly so that you can know more new things that maybe you couldn't afford to do so often but a date at the movies or at the bowling alley at the mall is never frowned upon.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He can be a bit obsessive about baseball sometimes, he cancelled a couple of dates to attend important practices or things like that, making you mad. You'd argue about it sometimes but he'd always try to make it up to you and apologize.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He looks like a fucking supermodel 24/7 who cares way too much about his grooming. It would be very hard for him to ever not smell like his usual perfume, even when he's sweaty after a game you can smell the manly scent of his deodorant. This man's bathroom is full of skincare products that he puts on his face every morning and every night before going to sleep, he has a sleek black jewelry box where he keeps his earrings, bracelets, chains and rings neatly and his closet is organized to perfection by areas where he always plans each of his outfits meticulously looking at himself in the mirror before going out after he's styled and brushed his bangs well. I can swear he has one of those little hair straighteners.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

I think Ken might suffer from abandonment syndrome thanks to his parents so yes, he is very emotionally dependent on you. Maybe he notices it, maybe he doesn't but there have been times where he doesn't feel well and would like to be with you for comfort but he can't because you are away at home and it is now night or because you are at work. He moves his leg repeatedly and tries to think of something else until he sees that you have gone out for your lunch break and he can call you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He's the kind of boyfriend who loves to drop you off or pick you up from work/college and take you on his motorcycle. He puts his helmet on you and drives slightly faster so you hold on to him tighter. He also really likes it when he comes back from a fight with a kaiju and you're here, willing to offer to take care of him and give him a massage or help him relax and heal his wounds.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't like to kiss you on the lips in public or act too clingy with you in front of anyone else. First, because he thinks it's tacky or cheap and second, because he thinks it's something more intimate between you two and he feels judged if he did it and someone saw it.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He takes a bath before bed, always. When he gets home he gets into that damn tub with ice and then takes a warm shower, does his skincare and puts on comfortable clothes to sleep. He usually looks at his phone until late until you tell him to go to sleep already. Since he is tired, it doesn't take him long to fall asleep so he turns around a few times in bed and falls asleep but it takes him too long to get up in the morning since that's when sleep and the warm feeling of waking up tangled up with you hits him the hardest.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

HAZBIN HOTEL HEADCANONS (if u want :3)

I don’t request anything most of the time from anyone so I sincerely hope I’m doing this right lol

Anyways! I was wondering if I could get a Vox x (s/o) reader where Vox yells at his (s/o) in a heated fight and he ends up scaring (s/o). Like maybe she doesn’t like confrontation or has this thing about being yelled at and usually ends up crying and avoiding whoever yelled at her for quite some time? Idk. Lowkey just in the mood for angst 😩

Thank you!

Synopsis: vox and you argue 😔 he’s not very demure

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Breaking Point

The apartment was unnervingly quiet. You sat on the edge of the couch, knees drawn to your chest, fingers gripping the fabric of your sweater as if it could anchor you to the present moment. The TV flickered in front of you, but the show had long since faded into background noise, overshadowed by the tension between you and Vox. Tonight was supposed to be a peaceful evening, a chance for you both to unwind after the long, stressful week. But the calm had shattered, replaced by a storm you hadn’t seen coming.

It had started with something small—an offhand comment about how little time you’d been spending together lately. Vox had been busy with work, his streaming schedule packed to the brim, and it had left you feeling more alone than usual. You didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but the words slipped out, and the conversation took a turn you weren’t prepared for.

“You know it’s not like I’m avoiding you, [Y/N],” Vox had said, his tone strained as he tried to keep his frustration in check. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. It’s not fair to guilt-trip me for that.”

“I’m not guilt-tripping you,” you replied, your voice softer than you intended. “I just… I miss you. It feels like we’re drifting apart, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Vox sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of exasperation. “What do you want me to do, huh? Just drop everything? You know how important this is to me.”

“I’m not asking you to drop everything,” you said, feeling your own frustration rising. “I just want to feel like I matter, like I’m not just another obligation on your to-do list.”

And that’s when things started to spiral.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Vox snapped, his voice suddenly sharp, his eyes narrowing as he glared at you. “Do you think I don’t care about you? Everything I’m doing, I’m doing for us—for our future. But it’s like you don’t see that. You just see the time I’m not spending with you.”

You flinched at the harshness in his tone, the words stinging more than you expected. “I never said you didn’t care,” you muttered, looking down at your hands, trying to steady your racing heart. “I just wish you’d talk to me, let me in instead of shutting me out.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” Vox shot back, his voice rising as his frustration boiled over. “But I can’t be everything all the time. I’m exhausted, [Y/N]. And it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

His words echoed in your mind, each one like a slap to the face. You felt a lump forming in your throat, the familiar sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but you fought them back, refusing to cry. Not now, not in the middle of this.

“I never said you weren’t enough,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the effort to hold it together. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Vox. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Fix what?!” Vox threw his hands up in exasperation, his voice loud enough to rattle the picture frames on the walls. “There’s nothing to fix, [Y/N]! I’m doing the best I can, but it’s like you don’t even see that! You keep pushing, and pushing, and I’m at my limit!”

His voice boomed through the apartment, the anger and frustration spilling over in a way you hadn’t seen before. You’d had disagreements in the past, sure, but nothing like this. The intensity in his voice, the way he was looking at you—it brought back memories you’d tried so hard to bury, memories of being yelled at, of feeling small and helpless.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath quickening as you tried to stay calm, but it was no use. The fear was too overwhelming. Your hands began to shake, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, as if that could protect you from the storm raging before you.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your ears. You wanted to explain yourself, to make him understand, but the words got stuck in your throat, your mind clouded by panic. You felt the tears building again, but you blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay.

Vox took a step back, running both hands through his hair in a gesture of helpless frustration. His shoulders were tense, his entire body wound tight like a spring ready to snap. “You don’t get it, do you?” he muttered, his voice still tinged with anger, though quieter now. “You don’t understand what it’s like to have everyone depending on you, to have the weight of all this on your shoulders.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that you did understand, that you saw how hard he was working. But the fear kept you frozen in place, your voice locked in your throat. You could feel the tears start to spill over, running down your cheeks in silent streams. You quickly wiped them away, but the action was too late—Vox had already seen them.

“[Y/N]…” His voice softened immediately, the anger evaporating as he saw the fear and hurt in your eyes. He took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if to comfort you, but you flinched, pulling back instinctively. The movement was small, but it was enough to make him freeze, his hand hovering in the air between you.

“I—I need to go,” you choked out, the words tumbling from your lips before you even fully realized what you were saying. The walls of the apartment felt like they were closing in, the air too thick to breathe. You needed to get out, to put distance between you and the confrontation that was ripping you apart.

Vox’s eyes widened in panic as he saw you begin to retreat. “Wait—[Y/N], please,” he pleaded, taking another step toward you, but you backed away, shaking your head.

“I can’t… I just… I need some space,” you stammered, your voice barely audible as you turned and fled down the hallway. You could hear Vox calling after you, the desperation in his voice breaking your heart even more, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t face him—not now.

You stumbled into the bedroom and shut the door behind you, pressing your back against it as if that could keep the world out. Your legs gave out, and you slid down to the floor, burying your face in your hands as sobs wracked your body. The fear, the pain, the overwhelming sense of helplessness—it all came crashing down on you at once, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

On the other side of the door, you could hear Vox’s footsteps, slow and hesitant as they approached. He paused outside the door, and for a moment, the only sound was the quiet hum of the apartment, punctuated by your ragged breathing.

“[Y/N]…” Vox’s voice was soft now, filled with regret and sorrow. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Please, let me in… let’s talk about this.”

You pressed your hands harder against your ears, trying to block out the sound of his voice. You wanted to respond, to tell him that you understood, that you didn’t blame him, but the words wouldn’t come. The fear of confrontation, the fear of being hurt again—it was too much.

When you didn’t answer, Vox let out a heavy sigh, the sound filled with so much pain that it made your heart ache. “I’ll give you space,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. “But please… don’t shut me out forever. I love you, [Y/N]. I’m sorry.”

You heard him turn and walk away, his footsteps growing fainter until the apartment was silent once more. You stayed there on the floor for what felt like hours, your body numb, your mind replaying the events over and over again. Eventually, the tears stopped, leaving you feeling hollow and exhausted.

When you finally found the strength to stand, the apartment was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the TV still playing in the living room. You slowly opened the door and stepped out, your eyes scanning the empty space for any sign of Vox.

On the kitchen counter, you found a note written in his familiar handwriting. You picked it up with trembling hands, your heart clenching as you read the words:

“I’m sorry. I’ll give you space. Please, just… come back to me when you’re ready. I love you.”

You clutched the note to your chest, the tears threatening to return as you took a shaky breath. You knew Vox didn’t mean to hurt you, that he was just as lost and overwhelmed as you were. But it didn’t change the fact that he had, and it didn’t make the fear go away.

It would take time—time to heal, time to rebuild the trust that had been shaken. But you hoped that, with that time, the love you shared would be enough to mend the wounds left behind. For now, all you could do was take it one day at a time, holding onto the hope that you and Vox could find your way back to each other.

[dailyakira]

home is where the heart is ft. tooru oikawa

gn! reader

a/n: hi guys! it's been a while since i've wrote a ff, so forgive me if it isn't that good. i've been fixating on haikyuu ever since the movie!! also this is not grammar checked.. i wrote this within an hour at 2 AM!!!

warnings: a bit angsty, tooth rotting fluff at a certain point, i forgot how to write, oikawa is sad and yearning, oikawa is scared to come back home, childhood friends to exes to something else?, tears are shed, please don't cringe i will cry

oikawa inhaled the familiar cool breeze surrounding him. he hadn't been in japan for years due to his hectic volleyball schedule. he was lucky enough to fly back for a short break before his season started again in a few months.

a wave of homesickness hit oikawa the second he landed. the memories of his mundane lifestyle in japan compared to his ever-changing way of life in argentina had shocked him.

oikawa wrapped his scarf around his neck tighter as snowflakes scattered from the skies. the delicate crystallized flakes began to litter his chestnut colored hair.

he hadn't told anyone that he was back in japan - oikawa felt no need to celebrate his arrival. he had burned too many bridges while chasing his dreams. arguments out of pure pettiness had ended relationships that he could never repair.

whenever oikawa thinks of japan, he thinks of you.

his dearest childhood bestfriend, who could never leave his side. until of course, he left for argentina without much of a say from you.

the only person he could say he loved, even through numerous flings and failed relationships.

he blames his fiery passion that became suffocating to be near. he blames his refusal to change his behavior. he blames every part of himself for driving you away.

because when he thinks of airports, he can't help but wander back to the memory of you not showing up to see him off. when he's gifted an alien keychain as a gag gift, he thinks of the two of you at ten years old, staring into the sky all night attempting to spot a flying saucer.

being back in his home country opens new wounds that he's tried to heal over and over. he wanted to enjoy his time off season without any worries.

his shoes tapped against the concrete evenly as he began to approach the convenience store. oikawa had left his hotel room earlier to clear his mind, and the only thing that could put him at peace was a slice of milkbread.

he hoped to go unnoticed, since he heavily disliked wearing an obnoxious disguise that would make him stand out even more. still, he raised the hood of his maroon sweatshirt over his head. oikawa desired some semblance of anonymity.

the bell clanged against the door loudly as oikawa quickly avoided the front of the store. he observed the vast selection of packaged milk bread loaves, before deciding on his usual choice brand.

he sauntered towards the beverage isle in curiosity and ended up settling for a bottled green tea to pair with his bread. he had never been a fan of green tea, but you had made it for him consistently after his practices to 'calm his nerves.' a tiny smile stretched onto his face as he thought back fondly.

he wanted to head home and collapse in his bed. the jetlag refused to leave him without a good night's sleep. after making sure he was satisfied with his choices, he walked up to the counter.

with his head down, he placed the items in front of the cashier. they scanned his items while he shuffled in the pocket of his pants for his wallet.

oikawa lifted his head slightly, comparing his money to the price shown on the register. he placed the money on the counter, not bothering to pay attention to the cashier.

he turned to leave and quickly get back to his hotel.

"i thought you hated green tea?" an easily recognizable voice remarked behind him.

he felt his heart drop as a lump began to form in his throat. out of anyone he could've ran into on his first night back, it had to be you? he contemplated putting on a brave face and telling you how he felt all these years or running out of the store just to avoid you.

he decided on the former, quickly turning around to face you. his breath paused as he looked at you for the first time in years. oikawa remembers you being beautiful before, but you had changed entirely.

you looked like you were crafted by the gods themselves.

the blush inched on his face as he tried to find the words to say. he had never been this anxious in his life. you looked at him with a puzzled expression as he continued to gape at you.

"i was... came home... off season...you're gorgeous?" he spoke in gibberish since he was unable to formulate his thoughts.

you laughed at his words as he stared at you with a stunned face, trying to determine whether or not you were real. you decided to ignore his shock and ask him about himself.

"how has your professional career been going? i heard you went to the olympics!" you gushed as he embarrassedly nodded along. you ignored your unpleasant past with him and continued with the formalities.

"i was glad to represent argentina in the olympics. going abroad to play volleyball was one of the greatest decisions i could've made."

oikawa sighs as he continues on.

"i still regret it, you know? arguing with you and leaving our relationship on bad terms. i think about it all the time. you inspired me to keep improving everyday. i'm so sorry for leaving.."

silence echoes throughout the store as he finishes his thoughts. you cut him off, beginning to explain your faults.

"i should've came to the airport. i knew that you were leaving, but i held a grudge." the regrets spilled out of you as the two of you continued to think about your every decision.

oikawa blinked away tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. he had missed you more than he could comprehend. there hadn't been enough words in his language to express how much he cared about you.

a few tears escaped his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. you leaned forward, wiping away the stray tears from his face. you softly grasped his jaw with a gentle smile.

"i've regret letting you go for years. you mean so much to me, tooru."

oikawa grins elatedly at you as he stares back into the comfort of your gaze. he could never get tired of this feeling.

the security of your embrace, the jokes that only you would laugh at, your support of his passion, your fixation on romance movies that you force him to watch with you, the longing gaze you send him whenever you're apart, and his overwhelming love for you.

there was nowhere else he'd rather be than with you.

whenever tooru thinks of home, he thinks of you.

[throneofsapphics]

old faces, part five

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again, and deal with the fall-out of your secret

Warnings: drinking, mentions of death, incest jokes

Word Count: ~5.8k 

A/N: all of your support with this little series means the world to me and is incredibly motivating! thank you so much. if anyone wants to be tagged in the next part, please let me know!

series masterlist

“Only princesses live in castles all the time.” 

Rowan leaned against the wall, right next to the door, admittedly eavesdropping on your conversation. He’d intended to come talk to you, to see Ceri before bed, but now his heart is sinking. You’d only had this conversation with them yesterday, and insisted you speak to her first. Better sooner rather than later, he supposed. More time to figure out a plan. 

“Some of the guards live here as well,” you countered, “and healers.” 

A small pause. Then a sniffle. Gods, was she crying? 

“Do we have to?” 

Rustling and movement. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“So I don’t have to study maths anymore?”

A huff of a laugh, and then a giggle from Ceri. “Maths are important.” 

“You hate them.” He pressed his lips together to muffle his own laugh. Footsteps, and the door swung open. 

You looked exasperated, at him, but he knew you’d already scented him - Rowan wasn’t doing anything to hide his scent. 

“They’re still important,” you stepped aside to let him in, sending a pointed glance his way, “right?” 

His mouth tilted up at one side, “right.” 

A groan came from Ceri, then she was flying across the room, he braced himself as she flew into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. Absent-mindedly, he ran his hand over her back. 

“A story?” She tilted her head up at him, eyes pleading. Rowan nodded, and let her lead the way back to her room. They’d offered several other rooms, but Ceri always insisted on staying in the same one. At least it was semi-close to theirs.  

“What kind of story do you want?” He asked, leaving the door slightly ajar. He already dreaded the day she’d stop asking for them. 

“Wyverns,” Rowan blinked. Usually it was Dragons, and he’d tell her about a sea dragon. Lysandra was thrilled the first time she heard about it. “The ones the witches ride,” she added, as if exasperated he didn’t know. That’s what they had in history books now, or taught in lessons. He shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. 

Rowan threw together a story, from what he could remember, of Abraxos and Manon, carefully avoiding

what happened to the rest of her coven. 

As he reached the end, he was grateful her eyes started to droop, he was struggling to throw things together.  

“I want to ride a Wyvern. I want to be a witch.” 

Rowan was less grateful, his heart caught in his throat. She fell asleep before he could explain someone was born a witch, or that there’s no way in hell she’ll be getting within a hundred feet of a Wyvern. Most of them were not like Abraxos.

The door clicked shut gently behind him, and he found you, book propped up in one hand, cup of tea in the other. He settled in the armchair across from you, closing his eyes and kicking his legs out in front of him. 

A wyvern. He needs to be more careful about the stories he tells. 

Peeking his eyes open, he saw you close the book, gently tossing it to the side. No bookmark, he winced. 

“Do you remember the page?” 

“It wasn’t that interesting,” you muttered, hissing as you took a sip of your tea. Too hot. He didn’t think before he cooled the drink, just enough to be drinkable. Your eyes shot up in surprise, glancing between it and him. “Thank you,” you sounded a bit confused, but kept drinking the tea anyway. Confused he’d done something like that? He used to, all the time. Maybe you didn’t expect those sorts of things from him anymore, but he could easily change that. 

“Our daughter wants to ride a Wyvern,” not mentioning the part about wanting to be a witch as well. 

Jolting, the tea sloshed over the sides of your mug, landing on your pants, but you didn’t look away from him as the cup clanked on the side table. 

“Wyverns?” you choked. 

“She asked for a story,” he defended himself. 

A laugh, an honest and deep laugh left your chest, “If she manages to bond with one of them, she would’ve earned the right.” 

“You’re supposed to say it’s a bad idea,” he tried to scowl, but your laughter was infectious, and his mouth curved at the corners. 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.” 

“Exactly. Silence is agreement” 

“Depends on the situation,” biting the inside of your cheek, you curled your legs up under you, snatching your mug again, wiping the small droplets of liquid off with the inside of your sleeve, expression straightening back out. He missed the smile. 

���I’m assuming you heard our conversation.” 

“I did,” a cautious answer, waiting to see if you’d snip at him for eavesdropping. 

“If I didn’t want you to hear, I would’ve stopped speaking,” you read through his lack of words. 

“I still want both of you to move in here,” he didn’t know what else to say, but made sure a small shield of wind would hide this conversation from small ears. 

“I’m not the one you need to convince,” hands clenched around the mug as you took another sip, tongue darting out to catch the drop gathering on your lip. He swallowed, for a reason he should not be. Not that Aelin hadn’t shown  … Rowan shoved that thought deep, deep down. Not the time. Would it ever be a good time? “I’m not sure what else I can tell her,” you continued, thankfully ignorant to his inner thoughts. 

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” he forced the words out. Your hand covered a yawn, giving him a good reason to excuse himself, making it down the hall before he braced a hand against the stone, letting the rough material center him. 

-

It had been somewhat of a disaster, Rowan bringing up Ceri and you moving to the castle. She’d outright refused at first, and still refused by the end of the conversation, but a little less vehemently. Not enough to bring her hope, but she knew Rowan was still thinking through ideas. Sure enough, Ceri had quickly changed the subject, and Aelin found herself on the receiving end of one of her difficult questions. 

“Why do they call you Gods-Killer?” Ceri asked casually, and Fenrys choked. 

“Because I killed some of the gods,” Aelin answered. It wasn’t the whole story, but that’s all she needed to know for now. If Ceri asked some day, when she was much older, maybe she’d tell her more. But a ten year old doesn’t need to know that. 

“Why?” 

“They killed someone I cared about very much,” Elena was already dead - but Deanna had taken away her chance of an afterlife, “and broke promises.” 

“Good,” Gods, she really is so much like her father. And maybe more like her mother than either of them know. “So,” Ceri sat down her fork, and Aelin already didn’t like where this was going, “if someone breaks a promise, I can kill them.” 

“No,” you said quickly, eyes wide, “those were very different circumstances.” 

“Fenrys said we could have dessert first.” 

“I did not,” the male immediately countered. 

“You did,” Ceri shot back. 

“I said the day you can beat me, we’ll have dessert for breakfast.” 

“You didn’t say what I had to beat you in.” 

A groan from the male. “In. A. Fight,” he clarified, avoiding yours and Rowan’s gaze. 

Aelin watched as you leaned back, head tilted up towards the ceiling. Maybe praying for mercy, maybe cursing Fenrys - especially as a challenge gleamed in Ceri’s eyes. 

“There are laws against murder,” Rowan steered the conversation back. 

“When is murder allowed?” 

Aelin remembered there were few laws against murder with the Fae, but - laws applied equally in Terrasen, regardless of whether someone was Fae, human, or Witch. Rowan, bless him, carefully and thoroughly explained the laws. 

“Murder,” you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, “I don’t know if he’s realized he’s telling her when she can kill.” 

Aelin looked at Rowan, recognized the look in his eyes, “he knows.” 

You turned your head, still resting on the back of the chair, to face her. A long-suffering look on your face. “She takes after her father.” 

“And her mother,” Aelin added without putting much thought into it. You didn’t look convinced, so she kept speaking. “People … are drawn to her, the same way they do you.”

That’s the best way she could describe it, and a faint blush rose on your cheeks as you murmured a thanks. 

-

“It's too big.” 

“You’ve been coming here for months,” you’re not sure why you bothered to point it out, especially when she gave a contemplative pause. 

“But you don’t like it here.”

Too perceptive, she was too damned perceptive. “The castle is fine,” you forced the words, ignoring the conflicted emotions swirling in your chest. It’s not that you didn’t like it, just that you'd prefer to live somewhere else. 

“Fine doesn’t mean good.” 

“Then we go looking for houses,” you ran one hand over her hair. “Don’t forget you can change your mind.” 

Ceri nodded, “I know.” 

“Would you like me to tell your father?” 

A scowl. “I’m old enough to do that myself.” 

Thank the gods, you really didn’t want to tell him. “I know,” you repeated her earlier words, hiding your relief. 

“I’m going to wait,”

“It’s your decision,” you murmured, running your hand over her hair again, and she grinned up at you before darting off. 

“What’s the verdict?” Fenrys approached a minute later. 

“Can you keep a secret?” 

He gave you a look that said; blood sworn, like you were an idiot for forgetting that. 

An over-dramatic roll of your eyes. “She hasn’t completely made her decision, but she thinks the castle is too big.” 

“She’s been staying here for over a year.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

“What do you want?” He asked instead. For some reason, that surprised you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, even though the heavy coat kept away any chill. 

“Whatever she wants.” 

He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms this time. “What if it was your decision?” 

“It’s not,” you said, with a bit more bite than you meant, and shot an apologetic glance at him. He didn’t seem phased. 

“But if it was?” 

You fixed your eyes on the cobblestone directly ahead of you. This was a dangerous question, a topic you’d avoided thinking of or ruminating on. 

“I was never born to live in a castle.” And that’s all you would say on that. Fenrys seemed to sense it, to sense the wall going up. 

“They mean well, but you know Rowan can be a bit stubborn about getting what he wants. So can Aelin.” 

He didn’t fight for you, the nasty voice said. I never wanted him to, you countered. It was a relief he hadn’t. 

“I’m not the one they need to convince,” you watched her climb up one of the trees, trying to get one of her friends to do the same. Another thing you’d noticed about your daughter while staying here, the amount of friends she has. Of course, she has plenty in Caraverre, but other children flock towards her. It’s always been that way. 

“I’m taking you on a night out.” Talk about a subject change. “You look like you need one.” 

“I’m vaguely insulted.”

“No monarchs invited,” he added. The storm had abated, the ‘monarchs’ in question insisted you stay an extra three days, just in case, and you were due to leave in two. The bitter part of you said it was only so they’d have more time to convince your daughter to stay in the castle, but realistically they did have a point, even if that was an underlying intention. Not everything has to be nefarious, you reminded yourself. Sometimes people do things out of genuine care. There’s not always a greater agenda, but in this case … you got the inclination there may be one, but you couldn’t figure out what, and that was going to drive you to the brink of insanity. 

“Tonight,” he added, drawing you from your thoughts. Tonight, meaning in just a few hours. You scowled at him, he’d left you little to no time to find an excuse to get out of it. 

“People go out in this weather?” The bright sun wasn’t enough to melt the snow banks gathered against the walls. 

“They serve alcohol for a reason.” 

He has a good point… and it would be nice to have a night out, a time you could pretend it didn’t feel like your entire world was bending and folding back over again. 

-

Aelin wasn’t jealous, she had no reason to be. Maybe a bit offended that Fenrys had immediately declared ‘no monarchs allowed,’ for your night out. Just the two of you. Rowan didn’t look entirely happy about it either. But, she supposed he was your closest friend in Terrasen. Fenrys liked to boast about it, ever since he learned it pricked at her husband's temper. 

When it came to pissing off Rowan, she was only second to him. Fenrys made it an art form. Still, as she watched you walk out arm in arm with him, she couldn’t help thinking he’d done it to piss off her as well. 

“A night out will be good for her,” Rowan said. 

“And if she decides to spend the night with someone?” She asked, a test. 

Rowan’s face tightened, “then that’s her decision.” 

Aelin frowned, he didn’t pass. 

-

You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun, or when you’d drank this much. Before you became a mother, that’s for certain. Still, you weren’t quite sloppy drunk, but a good bit past tipsy. 

“Your tolerance is shit,” Fenrys commented. 

Poking him in the shoulder, “you’re just as bad.” 

He shrugged, but grinned. At least you were equally as drunk. But, you were a bit peeved. One male had eyed you appreciatively, and even if you wouldn’t do anything about it - the attention was nice. Fenrys glowered at him, and he paled and turned away. 

“Why did you do that?” you huffed under your breath, 

“Do what?” He asked, voice honeyed with false innocence. He yelped as you dug your elbow into his ribs.

“At least my tolerance hasn’t changed.” 

“I haven’t changed,” it was an obvious lie, and you both knew it. You’d realized a few seconds too late he wasn’t talking about you as a person, just your limits with alcohol - but you’d already opened the floodgates. “Maybe a bit,” you amended. “We both have.” 

He hummed his agreement, “you don’t seem quite as … happy,” he hesitated on the word. 

“I am happy,” there wasn’t a reason to be sad. 

“I didn’t mean that. I meant you’re not as carefree.” 

“Child,” you pointed out. 

“More than that,” he ran a hand over his hair, perhaps a bit too drunk to put his words together. 

The bartender shouted last call, her voice carrying over the crowd, and saving Fenrys from trying to explain himself.

“Another would be a bad idea,” you murmured, but Fenrys was already moving, getting ahead of the crowd, and missing your comment. You followed him, a bit unsteady on your feet. By the time you caught up, he’d already put in the order. For something, but you didn’t particularly care what - as long as it was strong enough to make you forget the last five minutes. 

Fumbling with your pocket, you tried to slide a coin on the corner, but his hand stopped you. 

“Put any coin on that bar and i’ll shove it-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you cut him off, but slid your hand back. 

“We’ll finish the conversation when we’re sober.” 

“We will not.” Fenrys already had that look in his eyes, the one that told you the conversation absolutely would happen. More time for you to prepare, then. “If we remember,” you added. 

“I’ll write myself a note.” 

“Your handwriting is barely legible on a good day.” 

The drinks came by, saving Fenrys again, this time from trying to come up with a witty remark. 

Despite the rather … thought provoking statement he’d made, it didn’t put a damper or shadow over the rest of the night. You took full advantage of the remaining hour, finishing your drink, laughing, singing along to some kind of bawdy song you only knew half of the words too, and all too soon you were saying goodbye to at least seven new friends you made. Could they be considered friends if you’d already forgotten their names? Well, hopefully there would be some friendly faces once you moved here. 

If a night out in Orynth was this much fun, living here couldn’t be that bad. 

-

It’s possible a white-tailed hawk soared above the city around the time the taverns closed, and may have shot back to the castle once he spotted two familiar drunk and laughing Fae stumbling back through the streets. 

Rowan flew through the window, finding Aelin standing, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Really?” She tried to sound disappointed, but looked more amused than anything. 

A flash of white light, and he shifted back. “I needed to check.” 

Aelin raised a brow, “you didn’t need to, they’re both adults.” 

“I wanted to,” he corrected. “Is that a problem?” 

Aelin’s brows lowered, studying him for a few moments, but he held firm. “If I could have, I probably would  do the same thing,” her shoulders rolled back, “shall we greet them?” 

“I want to see just how drunk they are,” her eyes said. He held out his arm in answer. 

-

“Mother and father are here,” Fenrys announced as you entered the wing where your rooms were, just down the hall and around the corner from the Royal suite. Meaning, you usually had to pass by there in order to get to your room. 

“He’s the father of my child,” you frowned. “That’s weird. Incest is weird.” 

Each word began to slur into the other, and you heard a choking noise - but you were focused on Fenrys’s reply. “I suppose we aren’t in Adarlan,” you found some satisfaction that his words were slurred as well. 

“Oh gods,” that was Aelin. 

“Adarlanians,” you sounded out each syllable, “marry their relatives?” 

Fenrys shrugged, like it was a rumor he could neither confirm nor deny. Aelin groaned, and started ushering the two of you back towards your rooms. 

“My rooms are so far,” Fenrys whined - honest to gods whined, but his rooms were all the way down the hall, and around a few corners. For a drunk person, it might as well have been a mile. 

“Crash in mine,” you offered, “there’s a spare room, and a perfectly good couch.” 

“Thank you,” he went to link his arm through yours again, but Aelin beat him to it, turning over your shoulder, you caught Rowan glowering at Fenrys. Why would he glower? It’s not like you were sharing a bed. Why would it matter if you were? There’s nothing between the two of you, besides friendship. Friends shared beds all of the time. 

“I’m a great cuddler,” you said, just to see if they would react. 

“You kick,” Rowan countered. 

“I do not,” you insisted. 

“How would you know?” Aelin decided to cut in, “you’re sleeping.” 

“I’ll find out tonight,” Fenrys added cheerily. 

You could’ve sworn you heard a low growl or two, but you’d already reached the door, fumbling with the handle. You’d put too much of your weight on the door, because as soon as it opened - you went careening towards the floor. Fenrys tried to catch you, only to fall as well, alcohol throwing off his center of balance. 

At least the carpet was soft, you rolled over onto your back, running your hands over it. It was comfortable. 

“I might sleep here,” you sighed, eyes half lidded. Rowan and Aelin stood in the doorway, amused at the two of you, and you shot a bright grin their way.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Rowan, the bastard, needs to stop trying to give you orders. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you muttered, turning over on your side and tucking one arm beneath your head. Fenrys mirrored your movements, the two of you facing each other. 

A long suffering sigh, from Rowan you thought, and gentle hands were pulling you up to your feet. You swayed back and forth, Aelin holding you steady with a faint smile on her face. 

From the corner of your eye, Rowan was tugging Fenrys up, not quite as gently. 

-

“Be nice to my friend,” you slurred. Aelin was biting her lip to hold back a laugh, and she was grateful Ceri decided to have a sleepover in another wing of the castle. Otherwise, she’d be wide awake right now and witnessing this mess. 

“Hear that Rowan, the lady says be nice to me.” 

Rowan released Fenrys, and the male stumbled back a few steps. She kept her grip on you as you tried to lunge for him. The last thing they need is to drag both of you off the floor again. Without realizing, her arms had wrapped around your shoulders, holding you back in place. When Fenrys caught himself, one hand on the arm of the couch, you sighed in relief, and melted back into her. 

“Time for bed,” Aelin shifted so her arm wrapped around your shoulders instead, leading you off towards the room. Grabbing some night clothes, she offered them to you, trying to shuffle you off towards the bathroom. 

“I think I’ll sleep naked,” you announced. 

“As much as I’d enjoy the view, it’s still a bit cold out,” you wouldn’t remember this in the morning, but she’d remember how your cheeks flushed. 

Rowan and Aelin left, only as you fell asleep, alone in your bed - Fenrys already snoring on the couch. 

-

The end of the visit came all too quickly, and for the first time you found yourself looking forward to your return to Orynth. Looking forward to searching for a house on the outskirts of the city. Yes, you didn’t particularly look forward to staying in the castle in the meantime, but you couldn’t deny the city had it’s charm. Rowan and Aelin’s reassurances unlocked something in you. Not a desire to step into the public eye, but to stop avoiding it. If anything happened, you weren’t alone this time. Accepting help wasn’t a weakness. 

Ceri waved as you set off, just around sunrise. In around two or so weeks, you’d be heading back to Orynth. 

Your daughter, however, was currently pouting because you couldn’t ride horseback in this weather, and she didn’t like the carriages. She was mollified by the few books Aelin let her borrow from the Library of Orynth. You had a feeling she just hadn’t informed the librarians they’d be leaving the city.

Tilting your head, you caught part of the title; dragons. “What are you reading?” 

Thankfully, she didn’t look annoyed at your question. Instead, her eyes lit up as she lifted her head. “About last dragons, besides Wyverns,” she flipped the book around to point at a page. A sketch of mountains, you squint your eyes, made of glass with a few dragons circling overhead, one breathing fire into them. You looked further at the book, it was old, by the color of the pages, but well preserved. Maybe with magic. Was this one of the few books that survived the initial siege of Orynth?

“They lived in the Kyzultum Desert. But they were all killed in a war eight centuries ago.” Kyzultum, a desert on the southern continent, far south from Antica. You’d never visited, but always wanted to, to see the glass mountains. “They made mountains out of glass. The book says it’s just speculation, but soldiers from Doranelle hunted the dragons to extinction.” 

A small pain in your heart, for creatures hunted just for their power or because someone viewed them as a threat. Soldiers from Doranelle. You would bet gold marks on who exactly sent that order. 

“Why did they kill them? The book doesn’t say.” 

“Probably from fear.” 

She hummed. “Do you think dragon eggs could survive this long?” 

“I don’t know,” but Gods, if Ceri set her mind to it - she’d find out. And if they could … you started thinking of ways to discourage your daughter from hunting for Dragons. Maybe you’d have to lean on her father for that one. “Giving up on Wyverns already?” 

She scowled at you, drawing a small laugh before she returned to her book. 

-

Rowan was in a pissy mood, and Aelin knew exactly why. Ceri waited until the last night to announce her ‘decision,’ leaving all of them on edge. Then said she wanted to live on the outskirts of Orynth, with a small cottage, a garden, chickens, and a wyvern. Considering how you scowled at Rowan, she knew who you blamed for that idea. Still, they weren’t quite out of time. The two of you would return in around a month, permitting you could sell your house in that amount of time, and still stay in the castle while looking for another home. 

“Y/n didn’t try to sway her decision,” she commented - although Rowan already knew that. You’d decided to stay perfectly neutral. It’s smart, not wanting to get into an argument like that. After all, she’d chosen the same path. “Besides, Ceri might change her mind later.” 

“Right,” he cleared his throat. 

“So,” Aelin leaned back in her chair, “Wyverns?” 

“She asked for a story about them,” he groused. 

“What did you tell her?” 

“What I know of Abraxos.” As far as Wyvern’s go, Manon’s mount is the exception, and Rowan might’ve given the wrong impression when it comes to the beasts. 

Aelin laughed, “I can’t wait to tell Manon. Already a bedtime story.” She didn’t know if the Witch Queen would be offended or amused. Ceri hadn’t met any of their friends from other Kingdoms, not yet. It would come one day, especially with the move. Would you want to meet them as well? SHe hoped so. 

The little hellion’s presence made Aelin realize she wasn’t quite ready to have more children around. It would come one day, but faced with immortality there was plenty of time. Besides, maybe it was a bit selfish or strange, but she wanted to spend time with Ceri as she grew up, and wanted Rowan to as well. He’d missed out on seven years. 

Aelin always knew he’d be a good father, but seeing it with her own eyes only cemented that. Plus, the rest of the court and castle got to witness a softer side of him. 

“Had y/n already settled when you met her?” 

“No.” 

Gods, going through all of that with a small child. She had hers a few years ago, and it … sucked to say the least. The only plus being some of her magic returned, not quite to what it was before, but still much more significant. 

Rowan had turned back to his book. Another question had lingered in the back of her mind, “What is her magic?” He marked his page, setting it to the side. 

“She has an affinity for raw materials, imbuing them with magic. As far as I know, it’s unique to her bloodline.” 

“What else could it do? Besides what she sells.” Protective wards, enchantments, all impressive. 

“I never asked.” The dagger. Enchanted to leave a mark. Fenrys said she’d paled when she saw it. If it’s unique to her bloodline … maybe the attack wasn’t only meant for Ceri. “What are you thinking?” Rowan interrupted her train of thought.

“You said it’s unique to her bloodline,” Rowan nodded. “The dagger,” he stiffened but she kept going, “she recognized exactly what it was. Why use a dagger specifically meant to leave a mark? Why make a dagger like that?” 

“It’s possible her ancestors made it,” he started, “daggers and knives like that could be intended for different rituals. Using it could’ve been ignorance - or a coincidence.”

Aelin’s mouth tightened. That was a bit too strange to believe. “You know that’s bullshit.” 

“Sartaq hasn’t sent word of anything, there’s not much we can do from over here.” But, Rowan did look unsettled.

“Could anyone else have made it?” 

“She’s better suited to answer that question.” A month from now. Aelin wasn’t particularly patient on a good day, but she’d remember this. “Don’t be surprised if she wants to leave it in the past.” 

“What happened to her parents?” 

Rowan didn’t look like he wanted to answer, but she felt like she needed to know. Like it was relevant. He told her the entire story, not sparing any of the more gruesome details. She read the words in his eyes; I didn’t tell you. If you ever decided to tell her, she’d act surprised. A stone settled in her stomach. You hadn’t just been hiding from Maeve. 

“Then Lorcan hunted the rest of them down.”  

“Who was it, the ones who attacked them?” 

“The last armies of a Kingdom who particularly hated Fae, destroyed on Maeve’s orders.” And her father participated, that much she could put together. “It’s in the past, Aelin,” there was a hint of warning in his tone. To drop it. 

She nodded absentmindedly. If she could find a way to be subtle about it, she’d keep looking into it. 

-

“Leaving already?” One of your neighbors questioned, after you finished showing the house to a young couple - the woman currently at least a few months pregnant, and glowing. You nodded, watching them disappear. “Where to?” 

“To Orynth,” you turned to look at her. A friendly older woman, living a few doors down, who’d greeted you the day after you moved in with a basket of cookies. This neighbor happened to be the mother of the son, currently linking arms with his wife, trudging through the snow. It was a given you’d sell the house to them, if they ended up wanting it. 

“We’ll miss you here, and your little one.” 

“We’ll miss you too,” you murmured, rubbing your arms to stave off the chill. “Want to come in?” It felt right to offer. 

“I’d love to,” her face lit up. Ceri was due back from school in a few hours, and now big enough to walk on her own, although always with a group of other kids. It was a close little community, on the outskirts of the city,  and you really did like it here even if it was a bit … boring. Maybe that’s part of the reason Ceri wanted to move to Orynth. 

The two of you settled in front of the fire, hands warmed by mugs of tea, and you listened to her talk. Her husband - killed by Adarlanian soldiers, her three children - who went to fight in General Ashryver’s legion, the bane, only two returning at the end of the war. 

“Something happier now,” she waved her hand. “What about your family?” 

“It’s just me and Ceri now,” you forced a smile. She gave you a sympathetic look, and although you knew she meant no harm - you wanted to wipe it right off her face. 

“Her father?” There’s the catch. She knew damn well who her father is, the entire town does, and you shot her a look to tell her that. She had the grace to look a bit sheepish, giving a small shrug of her shoulders. “Can’t help the curiosity,” 

‘Yes you can,’ you wanted to say, but reminded yourself she’d been nothing but kind - and still is, but probably wanted to get in all of the questions she’d been dying to ask before you left. You were aware anything you said now would make its way through everyone else living here. 

“We’re on good terms,” you said firmly. 

“How did you meet?” 

“We knew a few of the same people.” Actually, you’d met at a bar - but she had no business knowing that. An ache started to form between your brows. A few hours passed, conversation thankfully diverting from Ceri’s heritage and into more neutral topics. You found yourself enjoying the company. 

“It takes a strong woman - or female, to raise a child on her own,” a brief haunted look passed through her eyes, and you offered her a tight smile. Her situation had been different, Terrasen being under occupation by Adarlan and all. She blinked a few times, letting out a long breath. “I’m making some meat pies this afternoon, I’ll bring one by.” 

“Thank you,” she stood, and you led the way out the door, walking her down towards her gate. 

Ceri was currently coming down the street, accompanied by a few friends, holding … something in her arms, bundled tightly. When she saw you, she sped up her pace, now almost-running down the street. 

“Look, look,” she said, shifting her arms just enough for you to see what she was holding. A little head peaked up, yellow eyes, then a meow. “She was all alone, I couldn’t find her mother,” Ceri looked up at you with pleading eyes. You ran a gloved hand over the kitten’s back, getting a small purr in reply. Orange. It was rare to find an orange female cat. 

“Let’s get her out of the cold,” a squeal of excitement, and she raced off towards the door.

The two of you bathed her in warm water, and the weird little thing liked it. 

“Are you sure you want to keep her?” You asked, but even if she said no you’d probably insist. One hour, and you were already in love. Sure enough, you were hissed at. Twice. 

“You can be friends with her,” Ceri said, sitting as close to the fire as she could get, the kitten wrapped up in a towel, sound asleep. She was talking about your animal form. A Baast Cat, not a housecat. 

“I’m sure we’ll get along,” you smiled, taking up a seat next to her. That little head poked up again, meowing, before crawling out of the towel. Ceri let her go, choosing to take her mug of hot chocolate from you instead. Carefully, the kitten crawled over onto your lap, small claws digging in. “What should we name her?” 

“Wyvern.” A hiss. Not Wyvern, apparently. Ceri rolled her eyes. She tried out a few different names, but none of them were approved. You’d already noted she was very intelligent, even for a cat, and looked up at you like you were supposed to know the answer. 

“Halle?” you offered, as a half-assed guess. Surprisingly, a small purr came from her, and you ran your fingers through her fluffy fur, watching as she promptly fell back asleep. Like she was waiting for the conversation to be over. 

“Halle’s coming to Orynth with us.” 

“Of course.” You couldn’t leave the newest member of your family behind.

-

taglist: @fussel9913 @moonlightttfae

[simpingland]

Hi hi! I would like to request a modern introvert aemond x extrovert fem!reader smut where reader just needs a lot of comfort because she's so drained from everyone and constantly putting on a brave front by being outgoing and happy. So she comes home and aemond just takes care of her and ends their night with soft smut

Thank you thank you!!

To Imagine// Modern!Introvert! Aemond x Fem!Extrovert!reader.

Summary: reader has been nothing but the the moon and Sun for Aemond, so when she breaks down for the first time in front of him, he just can't help but confess all she makes him feel.

TW: body issues! SMUT! (Fingering, oral sex female recivin, p in v).

Watching you from across the room, smiling and chatting with anyone you came across was Aemond's favourite pastime. You always managed to get a laugh out of them, a sincere smile, some gossip that you would pass on to his ears while he pretended not to care. The truth is that whatever you said to him mattered to him. Ever since that dinner when his family invited yours, he couldn't take his eyes off you, though your attention was focused most of the night on Helaena. You let her talk to you at length about stories she had dreamed, and yet you maintained such a tender interest that Aemond needed to find fault with you.

"My sister Helaena can be an...overwhelming girl," he said as he sat down next to you, the family distracted, and you turned away for a second.

"Your sister Helaena is a creative girl, and those people are always nice. Aren't you creative?" Your blunt answer caught him off guard, he didn't expect you to twist your attention to him.

"I'm much more logical..."

"Or so you think. You spend a lot of time looking."

"Looking? I don't know what you mean..." he turned red and very serious. You just smiled at him.

"Don't worry, it's okay to look. But when one looks so intently, it's to imagine."

"To imagine what?" he looked you in the eye.

You shrugged mischievously.

"I suppose you know that better than I do."

You kept your eyes on him, as if you wanted to know what he had imagined, but Aemond wasn't like you. He didn't feel as brave as you and your smile and your words. He sat there beside you as you spoke to him of all that you thought of his house. Your first impression of Aegon made him chuckle, and he leaned back to watch you prattle on and on. He had fully fallen for your charms.

Your first kiss happened that very night, in the corridors of his manor, apart from everyone else. Aemond had let his imagination run away with him as he watched you flee, and in your gaze he saw himself invited to follow. You leaned against a pillar as he loomed over you to make it clear that he too could be a determined man.

Since then, Aemond had spent his days and nights in love with you. He had known you well. He had spent weeks at your side, and those weeks when you were apart, he was always attentive to your messages, listening to your endless voice notes. You had long since ceased to be a mystery to him, although you never really were. He had rarely seen you upset, though he was slowly learning what things could hurt you and tried to avoid them. He used to be the one who brought bad news to the table because he knew it was you who turned it around, trying to put him in a good mood. He saw you cry for the first time in a shopping mall. He always waited patiently outside the fitting room, waiting for your orders to admire your dress or change the size of the garment. When he noticed your broken voice, he entered the fitting room.

"It just won't zip" you told him.

"We'll get another one," he replied as if it were obvious.

"It's just... this is my usual size..."

And he saw your little eyes sparkling with stress. He put his hand on your cheek and asked you to look at him.

"You're going to look as pretty as ever in a size up."

"I just don't want to be a size bigger."

"And I want you to wear that dress."

"...You don't control me..." you smiled mischievously again.

"No, but I do control this dress and if I pay for it, you keep it."

He bought you the dress ignoring the hundreds of "no"s and your soft swipes, and smiled when he saw you getting into his car with it on.

"I'm sorry I got all worked up over the dress, how ridiculous..." your apology surprised him.

"You don't have to apologise."

"Crying over a silly thing like that is stupid, there are so many worse things in the world. I'll stop eating so much bread."

"You have as much right to be sad as anyone else, love." He braked the car and before getting out he took your hand gently.

"I know...but you shouldn't feel sorry for me."

"You don't control me."

You laughed and Aemond smiled and let you kiss him on the lips before getting out of the car.

That night, as usual, Aemond lost you in the crowd. Many times you tried to pull him out of his corner, pulling him by the arm and forcing him to wave, but you used to respect him and let him drink in peace. You would meet him every now and then, updating him on everything you were told. This time he noticed a lack of brightness in your gaze towards the others. He could see the slight sadness that came over you as soon as the person you were talking to took your attention away from you. You immediately sought him out when you were finally alone. He was more than ready to go home.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"I'm a little tired, do you mind if we leave?" You grabbed his arm as you leaned against him.

"Of course not."

He kissed you on the forehead and watched you say goodbye to your friends with your characteristic good humour. Only the hostess asked you if everything was alright, to which you lied so as not to worry her. The trip back was quiet, Aemond listened to you humming the song on the radio.

"I've fantasised about having my house in silence and tranquillity but I miss your little voice too much, what's the matter? Aemond followed you with his eyes as you walked around the house, taking off your coat and making a cup of tea. You handed him a cup and stroked his hair, smiling at his concern.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired."

You took a sip of the tea as you went to the bedroom, he followed and watched you lie straight down on the bed, face down and hugging your pillow.

"Did some asshole say something to you?" He wanted to sound threatening and terrifying but it was more funny than anything else. You shook your head. "I'll punch whoever you want."

Suddenly, you began to cry. With a cry so loud that it frightened Aemond, who had never heard you cry like that before. He started to call out to you in whispers, but your face was completely buried in the pillow.

"Please, tell me what's wrong, don't cry, I beg you..."

You turned your head to look at him, Aemond had laid down beside you to put his face close. He stroked your hair and dried your face as much as he could.

"I feel... so overwhelmed..." you confessed.

"Why, my love?"

"I feel that nothing I feel is valid. That nothing I feel is important because that's not my role. Today I told my friends what happened to me in the fitting room and they laughed, and they agreed with me, I was stupid. You think so yourself."

"I don't think you're stupid, I don't understand you, please don't cry".

"I feel that if I don't stop talking, people will forget about me, because I really am a basic, boring woman and people use me to tell me about their lives and I mustn't show any kind of emotion other than that of someone who is sure of herself."

Aemond preferred to keep quiet rather than repeat himself, this was completely new and he wasn't sure if he understood you.

"I hope that one day you will understand that this is not true.

"There are things that even you can't understand."

"Do you want to cry?" Aemond saw you nod, and it broke his heart a little, but he walked away, but not before giving you a kiss on your tear-stained cheek. He didn't close the door, but left the room and stood in the corridor. There he listened to you sniffle and couldn't stop feeling that he was doing something wrong.

It didn't take him long to come back in, rushing to the bed to lie down next to you again, letting you hug and squeeze him as the last of your cries came out of you.

"You should drink some water, it will stop your headache." He felt your head nod and ran to bring it to you.

He admired from afar as you drank the glass and set it down on the floor to lie down again. There was no crying now, and your face looked up at him, and Aemond stood with his arms folded, admiring your figure, which still had your dress on. Only your feet were bare.

"I've always liked your feet," he confessed, running a soft finger along the sole of one of them, tickling you. "But I like your legs best of all."

"I like your legs too, Aemond."

"Really? What's so special about them?"

"...what's between them."

Aemond made a mock-tired gesture and heard your laughter echo through the room.

"I thought you were more romantic than me."

"You thought wrong. You're more creative than you always think."

"That's true...though maybe some people motivate my imagination more than others." He moved his hand down your calfs, slowly lifting your skirt. You were still lying on your back. "Not at all basic or boring people...generous in every sense of the word."

He bent down on the bed, lifting your skirt and uncovering everything underneath, raising his hands to caress your ass. He deposited a kiss on your buttocks and reached behind you. His massage relaxed you, but before continuing he sought your face, turning your face to give you a soft kiss. When you continued the kiss, he accepted your consent.

"It hurts me to see you cry, and I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

Then he nimbly removed your panties and with one hand lifted your pelvis, and with the other pushed one buttock aside. His lips went straight to your pearl. As he kissed and licked, he felt himself grow as he heard cries that were no longer of pain. He felt your wetness increase and didn't hesitate to slip one of his long fingers inside you.

"Aemond..." you whispered and gasped his name and it served to realise that he needed to feel you and soon.

He removed the rest of your dress, leaving kisses on every bare patch, and was soon removing his own clothes under your impatient gaze, still lying there and catching your breath. He moved back on top of you and groped where he should thrust. When he entered you, you both felt a wave of pleasure.

He moved slowly but decisively, as Aemond was. Nothing about him was clumsy, and he preferred to climax by enjoying all the sensations you could give him. He kept a rhythm that made you shiver and pressed his body to yours, his lips close to your ear.

"Do you want me to tell you what I imagined when I looked at you the day I met you?" his voice was even softer, almost purring.

"Tell me, Aemond."

"I imagined you like this...under me, touching me like you always do, I imagined what it would be like to kiss you...and what the moles on your back would be like."

His pace was no faster, but he did penetrate you deeper and deeper, making you gasp with every thrust.

"I wondered what a girl like you would be like in a place as quiet as my bed. I needed to know what it was like to hear you whisper so that only I could hear you..."

"Aemond...I'm going to cum."

"But imagination has its limited functions." You felt the tingles peeking out, Aemond was sliding more and more over your body in sweat, and your hand came to rest in his hair, you felt his kisses and his tongue run down your neck in almost the same way it had run over your clit.

His grunts grew louder, and Aemond began to pant with you. You came first, letting out a small cry as the pleasure stirred inside you. Within a minute Aemond came, cumming inside you, as he loved to do. And before he pulled out of you, he rested his head in the hollow of your shoulder blades, catching his breath and pushing your hair aside. You felt the coolness of his breath. It didn't take long for him to pull you to lie down in front of him and cover you with a blanket. Your smile was back, and he had that special colour that sex gives him. You were about to speak, probably to make a comment of yours, but Aemond silenced you with an intense kiss, long and sweet but serious. When you broke apart, which you regretted, you didn't want to talk any more. He stroked your chin.

"Nothing I could have imagined that night," he said, "could ever come close to what you have made me feel since then."

[the-badger-mole]

In a Time of Adversity

It was just his dumb luck, Zuko thought. All year he had been butting heads with the city's most annoying overachiever. Katara, the prodigy with a 9000 IQ, who'd managed to skip a grade and end up in all of Zuko's advanced placement classes, had been thorn in his side since the day she'd corrected one of his physics equations in front of the whole class. Ever since they had been locked in an increasingly heated battle of who would earn the highest marks in their class, and every week felt like a new face off.

Sometimes he would come out on top, but he had to grudgingly admit that while gave as good as he got on tests and assignments, she had the upper hand when it came to quips and put downs. Too often Zuko had been left sputtering in her wake, struggling to find a comeback from some scathing retort she'd just delivered. It wasn't until after yet another one of these exchanges, when Zuko in his frustration had the thought that he would love to throw her against a locker and kiss her until she didn't have the breath for one of her smart remarks, that it occurred to him that there might be more to his feelings towards her than animosity. And that was the last time he ever spoke to her directly. Disaster averted.

So, of course, when their science class goes on a weekend long camping trip in the middle of Backwoods, Nowhere, he would end up being partnered with her to find a rare fungus. Of course they would end up losing the trail and wandering through the forest with no clue how to make it back to camp. And of course, it would start raining, sending them scrambling up the mountain to a cave that was hopefully abandoned.

"At least we won't have to worry about dehydration," Katara said, pulling the water from their clothes.

"Sure," Zuko replied gruffly. He looked around for something to burn, but there wasn't anything but some leaves and twigs around. Not exactly the makings of a bonfire.

"I'm sure they're looking for us already." Katara sat down against a wall and drew her knees up to her chest.

"Great." Zuko wasn't optimistic about the prospect. Their science class wasn't exactly full of the great outdoors types. Katara had the most camping experience of anyone. The best they could hope for was that the chaperones would call search and rescue early the next morning.

"Do you think we should look for some firewood or something?" Katara suggested. She was shivering a bit, and Zuko could feel the chill settling onto his skin, too.

"It'll all be wet," he told her. "All we'll end up doing is smoking ourselves out."

"I can dry it," Katara reminded him. There was a sharp edge to her voice now. Zuko looked over at her and realized she was scowling at him.

"What's your problem?" he asked, irritably.

"You!" Katara shouted. Her voice bounced around the shallow cave jarringly. "You're my problem."

"Me?" Zuko drew back, affronted. "You're the one who got us lost, Katara, Queen of the Jungle!"

"Alright, fine! I'm sorry, alright?" Her voice cracked dangerously. "I just thought we could work together on this and things could go back to normal between us." Whatever Zuko had been expecting her to say, that was not it.

"Normal?" he repeated, completely baffled. "Normal between us? What are you talking about?" Over the sound of the falling rain, Zuko thought he heard Katara sniffling. Was she crying?

"You-you've been avoiding me for weeks," she said. Zuko was stunned. He'd heard Katara laugh (usually at him), and yell (again...usually at him). He'd heard her confidently dressing down a teacher that once made the mistake of telling her that women didn't get far in the science field. But this...this vulnerability in her voice. That was new.

"I haven't been avoiding you," he said. It wasn't entirely a lie. It's not like he turned the other direction when he saw her in the hall. He just didn't engage in their verbal sparring matches.

"You won't talk to me," Katara said. "You barely acknowledge me when I talk to you. When Piando assigned us as partners, you looked like he had just told you to eat a raw snail. I don't know what I did to offend you this badly, but I'm sorry, okay?" She was definitely crying now, and Zuko was panicking.

"I'm not...I'm not angry at you," he told her hesitantly. "I just...it's just that our bickering was beginning to feel....I don't know...childish?"

"So it's because I'm younger?" Katara demanded. Zuko winced. That was a frequent sore spot for Katara. Because she'd been moved ahead in school, some of her teachers and classmates made a big fuss over her age whenever she did something they didn't like. Zuko thought it was stupid. She was a year and some change younger than him, and only two years younger than the oldest people in their grade. Hardly a mind bending gap, especially given how mature she was generally.

"No, that's not it," Zuko said. "It's not about your age, or grades or anything like that. I just don't feel like having an enemy I don't need to have." Katara fell silent for a moment. Zuko thought he could still hear her sniffling every so often.

"I didn't think we were enemies," she said softly. It took a moment for Zuko to understand what she'd said. Then he snorted.

"Right," he scoffed. "That's why you called me a spoiled brat who probably paid someone to do my homework for me."

"Okay," Katara huffed. "I'm not saying we were besties or anything. But I thought we were at least friendly rivals. I wasn't seriously accusing you of cheating. It's just...school isn't always a challenge."

"Egghead," Zuko muttered. Something small-an acorn, probably- hit the wall next to his head. He smirked at Katara in the dark.

"That's more of a criticism of our curriculum than a brag," she said defensively. "Anyway, I was saying that you challenge me. If I wasn't trying so hard to be better than you, I would be so bored."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Katara's soft spoken vulnerability hung in the air between them for a long moment. Then Zuko laughed. He sensed Katara stiffen, draw into herself, and he slid over to her side of the cave.

"I'd be bored without you, too," he admitted. "And for the record, the only one in our school who would be worth paying to cheat from would be you." Katara scowled up at him, Zuko was actually close enough to see it in the dark. Then she laughed, too.

"So what did I do to piss you off so bad, then?" she asked him. Zuko drew back, feeling the heat rush to his face.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "You didn't say or do anything. I just wanted to be different, I guess."

"Oh." Katara wrapped her arms tightly around herself and a hard shiver ran through her.

"You're cold," Zuko said.

"Aren't you?" Katara asked through clenched teeth.

"Firebender," he reminded her. "Um...if you want, you can..." Zuko opened his arm towards her, an awkward invitation. Without hesitating, Katara scooted over and curled into his side, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You're better than a heating pad," she sighed contentedly.

This was a mistake, Zuko thought immediately. Katara lay her head against his shoulder and every thought he'd had about kissing her until she was dizzy came rushing back. He would be a complete gentleman, of course, but he prayed that sleep would come quickly and end his torture.

"Hey, Zuko?" Katara lifted her head to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here with me." Zuko's mind screeched to a halt. What did that mean? After a moment he decided it didn't really matter.

"I'm glad, too," he said honestly.

[cozzzynook]

Hi, I would like StarBee's other doodle about Angst, pregnancy and Comfort.

Where Bumblebee discovers that he is pregnant with Starscream and does not tell him for fear of being abandoned, but what he does not know is that Starscream suspects something else

Believing that Bumblebee was avoiding him and that he does not love him, making Starscream angry but Bumblebee ends up explaining the real matter and hopes for some relationship from his sparkmate

- bee would find out he’s sparked and immediately try to avoid Starscream because he fears the seekers response and how he’ll react.

- he knows Starscream is a great creator because of the grown sparklings that still love him from his bonding with Jetfire. Even his nieces and nephews still love the dramatic mech. So bee isn’t worried he’ll offline him or the sparklings. He’s scared that it’ll prove to him what he and Star have is just momentary and something fun instead of something serious and real.

- no one ever wants Bee in a serious way. Just like his brother Rodimus bots want them for a fun time and a joy ride. Sure his brother has two mechs now that love him and are bonded to him but he has a hard time thinking he can get the same.

- so he avoids Starscream and the trine that Starscream politely asked to find Bee, worrying in itself, who is hiding at his brothers who understands his feelings and tells Bee he’s always welcome. What surprises Bee is Rodimus telling Bee to give Star a chance to react and see. If the mech reacts poorly, he’ll help Bee along with their carrier. If he doesn’t they can work from there and see where things go.

- bee thinks on this for a few months and its not something he’s proud of nor is it easy when Star literally flies over the city every day looking for him. Star is visibly angry but he doesn’t snark or blow up at bots like usual. No he seethes and that terrifies bots even more.

- so with Rodimus gentle pushing and going with him, they head over to Starscreams home when he isn’t there and Bee slips inside with Rodimus promising he’ll be in the area in case he needs him.

- starscream comes home to the alert of an intruder and sees Bee sitting there with a troubled em field and his frame looking different than before. He can’t quite put his digit on it but it looks so familiar and Bee’s em field has a familiar ring he can’t place his processor on.

- but his state of surprise goes away quickly when he remembers to accuse Bee and demand to know who he left him for and why.

What could that mech offer Bee that he couldn’t?

And Bee is so confused and hurt, that sight makes Star stumble for a moment and he’s on his knees in front of Bee stuck between anger, hurt and wanting to console his, the bug, until the words make sense in Bee’s helm and he’s telling Starscream.

- “i didn’t..we aren’t dating..we aren’t together Starscream..are we?”

And yeah, Starscream yells something feral out into the tense space away from Bee’s audials mindful of the mechs wellbeing even when upset. And he can’t help yelling.

“Yes we’re together you bolt brain! I may not have verbally asked you but I won’t see anyone but you. I won’t have anyone but you. And i won’t let you leave me for some slag, poorly put together mech or femme that is lesser than me! You are mine, slaggit!”

And Bee is just…seeing stars in his optics looking at the mech thats such a dumb aft but his spark is for once in the right place.

“You fraggin idiot! You’re supposed to ask!”

And the water works come which, Starscream has no idea how to handle since Bee doesn’t really cry and he’s holding his tanks with a servo and trying to wipe fluid off with the other making him think something was wrong.

“I’m fine bolt wing..I wasn’t gone because I was cheating on you or in love with some other mech,” Bee let Starscream get so close to him as the mech held him tight for the first time in two months.

“I left because…”

And its way too hard getting the words out. He’s not sure how to say it without bursting into tears and he doesn’t want to play a guessing game or beat around the bush any longer.

Stars worried optics leave him speechless, spark spinning wild and his optics lost in that beautiful red gaze.

He decides physical talking is the best route to go and placing Starscreams servo on his puffed out tanks that have rounded already is the best way to reveal to the mech whats dawning on his face plates as he looks down and splays his palm against the warm space that houses their forming sparkling.

“You-you’re sparked?”

A nod.

Simple, nervous, erratically done.

And met with the most loving, frame crushing hug he’s ever gotten.

“I didn’t think you loved me..so I left to my brothers. I’vw been with him and his conjunxs this whole time..I know you wouldn’t kill either of us..but I didn’t want you to hate me. I didn’t want you to hate them. I wanted you to want me and our sparkling, like I want you and our sparkling..”

“You fraggin insect wall crasher,” Starscream choked, keeping Bee in a warm embrace so he couldn’t see his face plates.

“I’ve loved you from the moment you looked me in the optics, glared at me and called me a stuck up, out of fashion stiletto wearing cog-masher that needed better derma gloss. You are the most beautiful mech Primus has ever created and I’d be a fool to not see it. I just know our sparkling will be as amazing as my others.”

To hear those words were to hear a symphony of stars welcome him to the well of the all spark.

Bee broke down crying in Starscreams arms after hitting him in the shoulder.

Starscream’s wings fluttered in happiness and Bee knew the seeker would not want him to be anything other than himself.

[gatitties]

Hi!!

i hope your having a good day/night! I don't know if you're comfortable with writing angst but if you are, can you plases make a fic where zoro dumps y/n really mean and sanji comforts y/n? Thank you!! if you can't its also fine!

─Sanji x reader

─Summary: Hurt by the behavior of one of your companions, Sanji makes his way into your heart to heal it.

─Warnings: zoro is and asshole in this one

I'm fine with writing angs!! but I don't know if I'm good at it, it's not something I usually write a lot 😓

You watched the barely visible waves at night, everyone was already asleep when you decided to go out on the deck to vent your discomfort a little, you didn't want to bother anyone with your problems right now, just release some accumulated bad energy.

Although you ended up diverting your thoughts to all those times Zoro belittled you, looked down on you, and made you feel tiny compared to everyone else, you didn't know the reason for his aggressive behavior towards you when you started out well, but you had to swallow and continue with the dirty looks and passive-aggressive comments towards you.

It began to affect your way of being, you changed some of your aspects because of him, because of his comments, because of the venom he spat in every sentence directed towards you, you did not have the courage or enough strength to return the shit he was doing to you, you decided to sink into your misery slowly, you were not going to change his behavior out of nowhere and if he was not going to give in to have a smooth relationship, you had nothing to do there.

You decided to ignore him and avoid him most of the time, you stopped listening to his comments towards you, his looks, for you he no longer existed and yet, here you are now, shedding hot tears while your mind plays with you, stabbing your heart with all the bad moments you had experienced, squeezing out every last offensive comment. He didn't deserve you, but here you are, thinking of possible solutions to fix a broken relationship when little interest had already been shown, you should have known better.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who couldn't sleep, huh?"

You almost choked on your own saliva, not expecting anyone to show up at this time of night, you sniffled, wiping your eyes, taking too long to turn around and face the blonde who seemed confused by your behavior. He took a drag on his cigarette, deciding not to ask why your eyes were red and swollen.

"Yeah, I couldn't fall asleep, too many thoughts that don't let me sleep."

You partially lied, looking towards the empty sea again, trying to hide your fallen face in a subtle way, although Sanji had already seen everything he needed to see, he sighed leaning on the railing next to you, silence took over the atmosphere for a few minutes that seemed eternal to you, he knew it and you knew that he knew it, but Sanji decided to let you be the one to take the first step as long as you wanted to talk about what was bothering you, he wasn't going to pressure you.

The silence was killing you, even though you weren't being pressured, you were carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders, a lot of bad thoughts and worries. When you looked up you found the cook's profile, he looked back at you, a look full of understanding, patience and softness, a reassuring look, you felt weak when you looked at him.

"I…" you began muttering, he focused all his attention on you, rubbing your shoulders slowly, you felt even worse, letting all the contained emotions spill out again in the form of silent crying "I don't know what to do, I've tried everything, but he doesn't… I don't think- I don't think it works anymore."

You broke right there, breaking into little pieces in front of Sanji, he brought you into a tight hug as he rubbed circles on your back, he didn't say anything as you cried, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"It's okay, everything will be fine, things will get better, I'm here with you."

He whispered softly, trying to calm your sobs and tremors, he waited patiently until you unburdened yourself, he listened to every word, every complaint, every cry, he didn't need to speak so you knew that no matter what happened, he would always be there for you, to kick the shit out of Zoro's moss head, to collect and put back together the pieces of your broken heart, to heal emotional wounds without asking for anything in return.

"Thank you Sanji."

You tightened the hug one last time before separating, your face still had tear marks running down your cheeks, but now your mind was calm and your lips had a slight smile.

"You don't have to thank me for anything, I will always be here if you need me."

He smiled at you once more, softening your heart again, you returned the gesture with a brighter smile, surely you weren't going to forget so easily the pain that Zoro caused you, but at least now you could calm your worries temporarily.

[kiwiikato]

Hi! I saw your requests are open so I need someone to write some Ken x reader ideas lol but first I wanted to know if you have any rules or is there anything you don't feel comfortable writing? ��🏻👈🏻

masterlist

PLEASE DO TAG/CREDIT ME IF YOU USE ANY OF THESE IDEAS :3 i would love to read everyone’s work

i really hope this is accurate to what you want in your requests, so let’s go! i’ll try to get a good amount out for u :3

as for the comfortable part, i don’t really have any rules, just the usual avoiding really weird and socially bad topics

note! if anyone wants to request these headcannons as an actually drabble, i would be more than willing to do it. just pls be aware that i am hesitant on nsfw stories but i’d be willing to give it a try!

kenji sato x reader ideas!

divorced dad! kenji x preschool teacher! reader - very wholesome story, kenji takes his child to school and after a couple of interactions, he can’t help but get nervous and ask you out for dinner, finding your kind and loving nature for his child lovable.

baseball player! kenji x reporter! reader

married couple! kenji x reader - just a story of cute moments they have as a married couple, whether it be sleeping, cooking, dancing, showering, and so on. all these actions and moments pure and sweet.

kenji x old childhood friend! reader

kenji x ex-girlfriend/boyfriend! reader - the usual ex couple who runs into one another and can’t deny their remaining attraction to one another, giving it another shot

exhausted! kenji x sweet convenience worker! reader - on the days where kenji is more exhausted from taking care of emi, he takes a break picking out some snacks for himself to enjoy. the convenience worker there ends up feeling bad for him and giving him the snacks for free on you. this one time interactions becomes more frequent and he eventually asks you out on a date with a cute confession.

kenji x marine biologist! reader - kenji goes and asks you, a dr. in marine biology, specific weird questions, all correlating to emi (who you don’t know about). it isn’t till he keeps coming back more, that he finally introduces you to emi, making you become excited at the cute scaly kaiju.

kenji! x coaches daughter/son! reader

kenji x ami’s sister! reader

ultraman! kenji x robotics engineer! reader - a cute story of kenji always “accidently” breaking things and returning back to you to fix them, all as an excuse to see you.

ultraman! kenji x ultraperson! reader

kenji x architect! reader - kenji hires an architecture to help add onto his house, the constant meetings get you closer and closer

kenji x personal chef! reader

kenji x kaiju whisperer! reader - only one person really knows anything about kaijus, you! being the only person to actually have stumbled across kaijus, you begin to study them and grow your knowledge. when kenji first gets emi, he struggles to take care of her, giving in to searching for the girl who is rumored to be a kaiju whisperer. he eventually hires you and the two of you become closer over time.

kenji! x single mother! reader

kenji sato x reader angst ideas!

couple! kenji x reader - motorcycle incident - either the reader OR kenji get into a motorcycle accident and are sent to the hospital. the unharmed partner runs to the hospital in a hurry, panicking at the wounds they’re significant other have sustained. when they get to the hospital, they can’t help but to demand answers and cry as they wait for you to come back from the operation room.

cheating! kenji x reader

kenji x cheating! reader

divorced couple! kenji x reader

mourning kenji x reader - it’s been a couple months, maybe even a year, since his partner passed away due to a illness. each day is a reminder of how you’re no longer there in front of him and it tears him apart. sending him into grief and loosing his bonds and hobbies in the process.

kenji x reader - fighting and falling out of love

college playboy! kenji x reader

asshole celebrity! kenji x reader - kenji is getting interviewed, and in the midst of the questions, he is asked about his love life and calls you a temporary fling, hurting your feelings and making you leave his place saddened

ultraman! kenji x injured in battle! reader

kenji x kidnapped for ransom! reader

kenji sato x reader nsfw ideas!

dominant! kenji x submissive! reader

submissive! kenji x dominant! reader

sports rivals! kenji x m!reader

annoyed/sexually frustrated! kenji x reporter! reader - kenji is being watched by a reporter, you, so his normal routines are being disrupted, including sexual relief. eventually he catches you, lectures you, get frustrated, and you offer to do anything to not get sued. one thing led to another and BOOM! the nasties are done ;3

glory hole! kenji x reader

baseball player! kenji x assistant coach! reader

single father! kenji x babysitter! reader - kenji is a single father, struggling to raise his human child, he calls for a babysitter. you come into the picture and have now been working there for months, the both of you slightly eyeing eachother but staying professional. until one day, kenji’s kid is asleep and the two of you get some much needed alone time

ultraman! kenji x assistant! reader

[zhongster]

If you're still willing to write for Stardew, can we get some headcanons about... anyone, really?

Oh absolutely dearest, it was actually a burp fic that got me into stardew valley in the first place way back in 2018 (it was about Sebastian and Sam was there too i think??) but for the life of me I haven’t been able to find it again

Anyway here are some headcanons for my personal favorite character: Elliott <3

THIS IS KINK CONTENT, DNI IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT

First of all Elliott is a huge drama queen

He might actually get embarrassed and cry if he burps in front of the farmer early in their relationship

Especially because this man’s burps are NOT small

They are BELCHY every. single. time.

I truly believe he’s such a dark horse and could easily out belch Shane if you give him beer

Wine burps

WINE BURPS GUYS

If he burps and tastes the wine it’s game over he’s like “aaaand that’s enough”

I personally hc him as being from a wealthy old money southern family (that he cut contact with bc they suck) so he has one of those rich people honey-thick southern accents

So i could totally see him full on BELCHING and then bringing a hand to his chest like “oh my lord, pardon me” with that southern drawl

Despite how overdramatic and embarrassed he’d be before he and the farmer start dating/in the early days of their relationship I feel like once he got comfortable he’d pretty much just let them out (within reason) without thinking much about it

If something absolutely wet and vile and disgusting came outta him he’d just cover his mouth with both hands and stand there in shock

I feel like he spends a lot of his time at his desk writing and drinking either red wine or tea (and forgetting to eat) so he ends up with a lot of air in his stomach

He’s very prone to liquid bloating since he does forget to eat and quells his stomach with drinks

He’ll let out some really good ones right there at his desk and just continue writing

Beer really gets his stomach bloated af

He usually avoids it for that reason but on holidays he has been known to indulge

Also Elliott has a surprising amount of kink worthy lines that are actually in the game its kind of insane

One such example:

He has a specific line where he stuffs himself during the winter feast and my brain went haywire with that one

He also definitely loves belly rubs

This is a man that likes to be pampered especially when he has a sore, bloated belly

If and when he and the farmer have children his burps have definitely woken the baby up on numerous occasions

They’re like prime for child-scaring

As in canon, he’s also very prone to hiccups

And the only way he can successfully get them to go away is to hit himself on the chest and try to force up the biggest belch possible

Sometimes he even has to swallow air to do it

I have a very specific image of him in my head letting out these monstrous burps while he fusses with his hair in the mirror

Or while he’s gathering his hair into a ponytail

He’s super casual about it too

Like I don’t think he understands how genuinely massive his burps actually are

He hears them all the time so he’s like??? Desensitized to how loud they are???

So when the farmer’s like “Jesus?!?!?” It takes him a second to be like “OH! OH THAT WAS LOUD I BEG YOUR PARDON” (again with the twang)

here’s a video reference

[altrodent]

In My Arms

Pairing: Donnie Darko x Reader

Genre/warnings: Fluff, comfort read, swearing, slight mention of appearance shaming, (not entirely proof read)

Summary: You have probably the worst week ever, and the only thing that can fix it is your “friend” 🩷🤭

Shit. That’s what this entire week has felt like. From accidentally tripping over nothing, to getting yelled at by an annoying old bitch, and even your closest friend almost dying, you just can’t take it anymore. All you want to do is huddle up in your cave of a room and hide forever. The only thing between you and home is a long couple of blocks, that never seem to end. Usually you’d walk with your… well, you aren’t sure what you are to him, but let’s just say you’re very close. Donnie Darko, your first friend, your first kiss, your first shoulder to cry on. Why don’t you go to him this time? His house just got demolished, his room specifically, you’d feel like an asshole if you talked to him and complained about something that small. Little do you know…

“Hey, wait up!” You gaze out of your peripheral view to see an all to familiar boy running up to you. On any day of the week, you’d love to see him and chat, but your brain is just a big word cloud of emotion. “You usually walk with me.” Your lips purse together, he tilts his head over to look at you “You doin’ okay?” You nod as your teeth start tearing away at your lips, avoiding his eye contact. “Hey…” he gently grabs your shoulders “You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, you do the same for me.” He smiles lightly, it absolutely melts your heart “I know, I’m sorry…” his hand reaches to your face as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t be sorry. I was actually wondering if maybe you wanted to come by later? You don’t have to of course I just wanted to-“ you smile and your small laugh cuts him off, seeing you like this makes his heart flutter. “Yes, Donnie, I’d love to.” He gives you a big hug before taking your hand and continuing your walk home.

He dropped you off at your house, and told you that you could come over when you’re ready. After an hour or so you had gotten dressed, cried out any unnecessary tears, and got your stuff ready. Before there was a knock at the front door “I’ll get it!” You shouted to anyone else who might be in the house. You open the door and Donnie’s there. “Hey, Don” You smile brightly and greet him with a hug “I thought I was going over to your house?”he hugged back greatly, before gently releasing his tight grip “I know, but I just didn’t want to wait that long.” You laugh “Well, come in. I think I still have movies scattered around my room somewhere.” He nods as you close the door and lead him to your room. It wasn’t too messy, but enough for him to notice the small bundle of wadded tissues and torn memories. He closed the door behind him “I actually also wanted to see how you were holding up.” Your brows raise “What?” He leans against your vanity, “You remember what I said, right? You can tell me anything.” You shift away and go back to trying to find your movies. “I said I’m fine Donnie, don’t worry!” You can’t seem to see at this point. You already cried, but when he goes out of his way to make sure you’re alright, it makes your tears swell in your eyes. You’re now on the floor, speechless, feeling like an ass. He walks over to you, squatting down to cup your face in his hands “Please.” A tear falls, and then it seems like the stream of salty fluid doesn’t stop. He gently picks you up and sits you on the bed. Immediately, you cling onto him as if he were a teddy bear, letting out every emotion from the past couple of weeks. The weeks that felt like months, the months that felt like years, the ‘best years of your life’ scam. He adjusts himself to lay against your oddly plush pillows, with you laying on him. The patterned rise and fall of his chest eventually infecting yours. “Fuck the Fear-Love spectrum shit. I can feel how I want” you mumble into the soft material in his shirt. His laughter rumbling in his chest, “What did I say about letting that hag of a bitch get to a beauty like you?“ “I know Donnie, she just… she made fun of my appearance and my overall person I wanted to go absolutely batshit crazy on her, but I just can’t. I’m weak… I don’t want to get in trouble because of someone like her.” You try and turn away but he pulls you back and without warning locks his lips with yours, though it wasn’t the first time he’s done this, it still just always catches you off guard. He’s sweet, and tender. Passionate, yet gentle, his lips blend into yours like liquid saccharine. What makes him special is that every time you’ve kissed, you can always tell he cares by the feeling of his lips curving into a smile, then when you pull apart all his eyes can seem to follow are you. Soon you pull away and giggle as he followed your lips “If I knew I’d get you like this for telling you how I feel, I would’ve opened up more.” You smile, before a devilish glint appears in his eye “We can always make up for lost time…” his eyes, instead of looking at anything else, stare daggers into yours. It’s almost as if his eyes were laced with a poisonous love, and you can’t get enough of it. Instead of answering with words you just press your lips into his. He hums in approval as his hands gently glide from your face to your hips. Slowly he guides you to move onto his lap, and you obey. He begins peppering kisses on your face, fitting in little praises and nicknames between some of them. He presses his lips against your forehead, before gently holding your face once more “We’ll get through this, together. Just give me your time and honesty, that’s all I ask… please?” His eyes buried into yours again, you hum “How could I say no to you, Donnie?” He smiles softly after pecking your lips one last time “I’m glad to have you in my arms.” Your smile never faltering, “I’m glad you want me in your arms.”

~

(A/N): I’ve watched it like 10 times, and while this is absolute shite, I just can’t figure out what to write right now. My ideas have run dry 😭

[sushiwriterhere]

one: description & objectives

flight path

summary: "It’s then that it occurs to you that he might be doing a sort of calculus that means that even though you might win this battle, you’re going to lose the war."  rating: teen+ (eventually explicit, 18+ mdni) pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader word count: ~3.3k warnings: enemies to lovers!, college au!, eventual smut, hangman being hangman, no use of y/n.  notes: dedicated to @waklman this ones for u bestie. i have the rest of the fic planned, just gotta write :) pls pls pls let me know what you think! masterlist here tagging: @roosterbruiser @gretagerwigsmuse @joaquinwhorres @sometimesanalice @seresinsweetie @bobfloyds @theharddeck @sebsxphia @jupitercomet @dempy @gigisimsonmars @sunsetsimpsblog @shanimallina87 @djs8891

“Your project partners are as listed in the PowerPoint, please do not come crying to me about who you’ve been selected to work with, I will not be changing it. Your project ideas are due two weeks from today.” You can feel the dread filling your body as you scan the list of names on the slide in front of you.

The further along you get, the sicker you feel. Each person you know who could at least be somewhat trusted to pull their weight, is partnered. Anyone who’s even slightly normal, is also partnered. And not with you. 

The room fills with chatter as people stand to leave class and seek out their project partners, but all you can do is sit and stare at the name next to yours. Lifting your head to scan the lecture hall, you watch in abject horror as Jake Seresin, toothpick ever present between his perfect teeth, lifts a hand ever so slightly and wiggles his fingers at you.

You turn to the TA who always sits next to you, and put on your most flattering smile in hopes of a miracle, “Grace, I know Professor Simmons just said we couldn’t, but is there any chance—”

She laughs lightly, cutting you off, “Sorry kid, nothing we can do. Strict orders. But it shouldn’t be so bad, Jake’s second in the class y’know. I’m sure you two will come out on top.” 

Gritting your teeth together, you barely manage to keep yourself from explaining to her that that’s precisely the problem. 

You and Jake had met in freshman year intro to mechanical engineering—ENGR-M 101 to be exact. It was a larger lecture hall, but you’d ended up sitting next to the boy and his group of frat brothers. They were joking around, calling each other ridiculous nicknames, and you hoped you’d be able to avoid them throughout the rest of your time. 

You were an unassuming kid when you started college, far away from friends and family, and really only focused on becoming the top of your class so you could get into the best PhD programs possible. If MIT and Stanford weren’t an option for undergrad, they’d certainly take you with a perfect GPA and stellar recommendations. Becoming the best aerospace engineer, the best engineer overall, in your class wasn’t just a goal, it was your destiny. You realized that focusing so hard on academics really meant that, well, social life would be lacking. But besides, the STEM dudes were usually an odd bunch—you briefly considered joining some sort of campus club before the options overwhelmed you and you decided to try and volunteer in a research lab. It could be turned into a paid position. And, grad students could be your friends.

But in that moment, you met your nemesis. Really, it felt childish to say it like that, but Jake Seresin seemed to derive a special sense of pleasure from tormenting you. 

He’d introduced himself on that bright August morning with a winning smile, an extended hand, and a gentle Texan twang, “Jake Seresin. Nice to meet ‘ya.”

You shook his hand firmly, remembering the importance of men taking you seriously, and responded with your name. 

His response made clear exactly what his personality was, “Think you’ll survive the weed out? I’ve heard this professor’s a real hard ass, and I’m planning to be top of our class.”

“He’s perfectly reasonable in the lab; and I’m sure he will be here too.” You had sniffed, not exactly trying to sound haughty but not trying to be subtle about the fact that you’d already gotten a head start on the resume work already.

The smile that spread across his lips was poisonous, as if he’d figured you out just in that instance, “I see my competition has my work cut out for me.”

And with that, he turned back to his friends, ignoring the way your face seemed to warm a thousand degrees. You weren’t his competition, you were sure you were leagues ahead of him. The stereotypes about hot-headed, ignorant, frat boys traveled, and you weren’t a fool.

That light tension in your initial interaction had, frankly, spiraled into something drastically out of proportion and lightly legendary. Every class you had with him, you fought for who was going to set the curve, whose in-class answers were better. And at some point, the details of the first interaction faded and were replaced simply by how he had made you feel: like a bug under a microscope, but also like he was pulling your pigtails and taunting you.

So that was the beginning of a long saga in which you now find yourself facing the cruel reality of an entire semester where your grade depends on the very person whose entire life mission seems to be to take you down a peg. Which, frankly, you consider to be ironic because if there is anyone with an ego the size of the planet, that is Jake.

You keep your eyes trained to the front of the room as you shut your laptop and slowly begin packing up. You can’t really afford to avoid him, because this professor’s whole schtick is ensuring that all engineering students aren't terrified of social interaction. Hence, a semester-long project of ‘intimate’ work with a peer. 

It would be fine, except Jake isn’t moving either. He continues to sit and chat with his friends (somehow also engineering majors and frat bros?) while occasionally glancing up at you to see if you’ve moved. His smirk never wavers.

You steel your nerves, and decide that this won’t be the time he gets to you. You have to work with him? Fine. But you’ll take the lead, make sure it’s on your terms. No military themed projects, that’s for sure.

“Well look who it is, part two of the dream team.” Jake’s voice carries through the emptying lecture hall and you distantly hear some snickers, but his face remains almost impassive. 

You can read the mocking undertone, you aren’t stupid. So you stand slightly awkwardly off to the side as his friends disperse slowly around the two of you. The only friend of his that you know by name, much less respect, Bradley Bradshaw, sends him a warning look and says hi softly as he passes you. Despite the fact that Jake’s standing in a lower row, he’s still slightly taller than you when he stands to his full height, backpack over one shoulder.

“Jake.” You grit out, trying to mask your displeasure. You’re sure it isn’t working. 

“Sweets, it is a joy to see you.” His easygoing smile does nothing to make you feel at ease, in fact, you think it might be giving you high blood pressure.

“I will choose to ignore the fact that you seem to not know my name, and ask that we meet as soon as possible to start on this.” You cross your arms and turn around to start up the stairs, and you hear him hit himself on a desk in his rush to catch up to you. Serves him right.

He seems only slightly deterred by the fact that he just did the adult equivalent of smacking your shin with a scooter, and he keeps his stride even with yours. It’s your luck that you two actually have your next class together as well, something about senior requirements. 

“You’re being unusually nice to me. Scared that your grade’s on the line?” He teases, only slightly distracted by his phone which he’s typing furiously into. 

You round on him, and he grinds to a halt while you brandish your metal water bottle at him, “I take my grades very seriously, Jake Seresin, and I will not have you goofing around and sabotaging us just because you find glee in my suffering.”

Very cautiously, like he’s actually afraid you might hit him, he grabs the bottom of your water bottle and lowers it so it isn’t at his eye level. Then, he has the audacity to salute you. Not a corny one, but one that looks like he’s spent hours practicing it in the mirror when he’s doing his military nonsense. At the very least, he doesn’t snap his feet together, so he manages to save himself from looking like the world’s biggest dork. 

“I pinky promise that I will not sabotage our project because I find it funny. I do also care about my grades y'know.” You exhale just slightly, and you turn back around to start walking again. 

“Good to know you at least take something seriously,” You mutter under your breath, recalling all the times he’s breezed into lecture rooms right as the second hand indicates it’s the start of class.

He manages to catch your muttering, despite your best efforts, “I’m basically first in every engineering class we have, you cannot actually be questioning my academic prowess.”

Something curls in your chest, as you snap back, “Basically first?”

His laugh carries as you two finally exit the building and march through the quad. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you. It isn’t an exaggeration to say that despite the size of your university, people know about your rivalry. 

When you get to your next lecture, Jake plops himself down right next to you, trapping you in the aisle unless you take the long way out. You bristle at the proximity and glare at him, trying to mentally will him into leaving you alone. He seems not to get the message as he fully unpacks and manages to irk you even further by using the shared arm rest.

You almost completely lose your mind when you finally decide to change seats despite the one next to Jake being your unofficial-official seat, and your professor chooses that exact moment to start class. 

Ignoring Jake through the lecture isn’t actually the hardest thing in the world. He wasn’t lying when he said that he took classes seriously–you notice that he takes diligent notes, keeps his online shopping and texting to minimum (that’s nothing to say for his frat brothers who seem to be intent on keeping their groupchat on fire), and doesn’t bother you. He keeps his elbow on the arm rest between you two, though. 

When there’s only a few minutes left and the professor notices that he’s losing everyone, you feel a poke. You ignore it and grit your teeth as you attempt to maintain your composure. Jake pokes you again. 

It takes all of your mental strength not to straight up just yell at him in the middle of a lecture hall, and you turn your head slowly to make eye contact with him. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin and it makes you even more annoyed. 

“Can I help you?” You whisper quietly, “I’m trying to focus here.”

Jake just keeps smiling and responds, “Library after this? We can have lunch.”

Then he has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows in a way that makes you raise yours at him. He seriously bothered you for this? The same man who insisted he would take the project seriously is trying to distract you from paying attention in one of your most difficult lectures. 

In an instant, you remember that pissing him off completely probably isn’t the brightest idea, and even though you can already tell you’re going to spend most of this semester completely and constantly ticked off with him, you know you’re capable and you don’t want to have him drag you down completely. So, instead, you nod somberly at him, and turn back to the front. 

He seems surprised by your reaction but doesn’t push it, thankfully. 

Once the professor dismisses everyone, Jake once again takes his time putting everything on his desk away and finally standing to leave. You think you could’ve done a hundred physics problems before you two are leaving the lecture hall. Nearly everyone else has already left, and you just find that to be another reason to be irritated with him. This semester is going to be a million years long.

-

“Oh please, Jake, spare me the hyper nationalist histrionics.” You think this might be the fourth time you’ve rolled your eyes in the last two minutes as you and Jake argue about your project topic.

The two of you have claimed a table in the far corner of the second floor and spread textbooks, notebooks, and various supplies over it. Thankfully, there aren’t that many witnesses to the absolute hurricane of materials and the arguing that’s been varying in pitch for the countless minutes since you got here. You’re considering strangling him.

(Yes, you had argued about where to sit. You insisted on a study room on the fourth floor where it was quiet and you usually studied. Jake had won out only because of the fact that the fourth floor was a silent floor and “we’re probably going to yell at each other and I really don’t feel like getting on the librarians’ bad sides this early into the semester.” Five minutes after he said that, you’d raised your voice loud enough to make several people turn their heads– “Urban sustainability shows our versatility as engineers, asshole!”)

You only have two weeks to decide, and even that’s a stretch. These deadlines are fake in your mind–topic should be decided within three days to ensure maximum time for research, analysis, and polishing of the final product. You’d perfected your timeline second semester of freshman year and you were not about to deviate because Jake couldn’t understand that not everyone had their head so far up the Navy’s ass all they could see was its intestines.

So far, the only ‘work’ you and Jake have managed to get done is to argue about the ethics of the military industrial complex as well as, in his words, why you are not in fact a hippie just because you don’t approve of a bloated military budget. (“How much does one pilot’s helmet cost?”) Lunch is abandoned in front of you, a few containers of the sort-of-decent cafeteria food from the basement. 

Jake seems determined to ensure the two of you spend the next sixteen weeks turning yourselves into cadets, or whatever the hell they’re called, and you could not care less. In fact, you absolutely cannot care less because you are not going to do research on the military and a deep dive into urban sustainability projects is the only option. Navy or Army or whoever be damned. You’ve already told him as much at least three times.

“You just said the word histrionics. Who even says that.”

At the very least, you can take comfort in the fact that he looks just as annoyed as you probably do. His usually unshakeable, smiley demeanor is gone, replaced by a look on his face that says he’s probably regretting being so cheerful about calling the two of you a “dream team”. He leans back in his chair so he’s only on the back two legs and you bite your tongue at the urge to chastise him for the extremely juvenile behavior. Someone’s mother clearly never terrified them at age five about putting their head through the windows behind the kitchen table. 

“I say that, Jake, because I’m an adult with an adult vocabulary. And as an adult, as the adult, I’m deciding that we’re not doing some stupid shit about the Navy.” He narrows his eyes at you and you can see the gears turning. 

“Okay, well, I’m also an adult and I don’t say histrionics.” It’s a weak comeback and you both know it, but he seems more preoccupied by whatever plan he seems to be thinking through. 

It’s then that it occurs to you that he might be doing a sort of calculus that means that even though you might win this battle, you’re going to lose the war. You open your mouth to start arguing again, but this time about the project topic, when he holds up a palm to stop you. Now you’re not just considering throttling him, but wondering how aggravated assault can be explained away on graduate school applications.

“Okay, how about we compromise. We can do our project on fuel efficiency of a few types of Navy aircraft. That way I get to do the military and we can talk about the environment. It’s not exactly urban planning but,” He waves his hand around, gesturing wildly, “It’s some sort of planning.” 

For a moment, you think he actually might be trying to compromise. But instead, you narrow your eyes. Jake Seresin isn’t nice, least of all to you. And he certainly doesn’t believe in compromises. 

You stand firm, “I am not doing any project that involves the Navy. Or the Army.”

“National Guard?”

You almost leap across the table at the laughter that shakes his entire body. Instead, you sit and you seethe, considering how much clout you have in the department to get someone to convince your professor to let you switch partners. Or help you get away with murder.

Once he stops laughing, he settles easily back into his chair and then folds his hands together so he can rest his chin on them, a serious expression coming over his face, “How about a deal, sweets?”

Sirens immediately start going off in your head. Bad, bad, bad. You are not making a deal with the devil. But, some part of you is curious, what will he ask from you to let you take the lead on this?

“Go on.” You narrow your eyes at him, and gesture for him to continue.

“You have to come to at least five parties this semester at my invite, and stay for at least three hours, I’ll know if you don’t, and we will do the project the way you want it. I ask for three thousand words to talk about the military, give or take.” The twinkle in his eyes is mischievous in the worst way and it sets you on edge. 

“What’s the catch?” 

“What do you mean what’s the catch? An offer’s an offer, sweets.” He holds a hand out for you to shake but you shake your head at him.

“I wanna negotiate.” Jake raises an eyebrow at you (does he do his eyebrows?), but gestures for you to continue anyways, “I will come to exactly four of your stupid parties, and stay for two hours, no more. We do the project my way and you get two thousand words.”

You can tell he wants to say yes when he sits up in his chair, but then you realize that he’s getting too good of a deal so you cut him off, “Actually, no military or flight deviations. I hate parties.” You wrinkle your nose in displeasure.

“Zero is a hell of a lot smaller than three thousand, sweets.” A crooked grin spreads over Jake’s face and you make a mocking face at him. “And I know, but it’ll be good for you. Socializing with normal humans is good for the soul.”

“Okay well, our page limit is thirty, and that’s 7,500 words double spaced. Not including diagrams and footnotes, so I don’t want you eating up all my research space with military crap,” Jake scoffs when you say “my” but holds out his hand anyway.

“Fine. Four parties, two hours, project your way, one thousand words?” He wiggles the fingers of his outstretched hand like he had earlier in the day and you stare at it for a moment before deciding, what the hell. 

Shaking Jake’s hand makes you realize that’s the first time you’ve ever touched him.