#yet never really acknowledging it other than a few moments. but at that same time bill makes MONEY for the home

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

FADING AWAY-RAFE CAMERON

Y/N had always known that her relationship with Rafe wasn’t going to be easy. She knew the risks, how different they were, how their worlds never quite meshed, how people whispered behind their backs, judging them for even being in the same room. Rafe was a Kook, born into privilege and wrapped in a world of wealth and expectations. She was a Pogue, barely scraping by, fighting for every little piece of freedom and respect she could get.

And yet, despite the glaring differences, Y/N had believed in them. She believed in the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, in the way his touch felt like home, in the way their conversations lasted late into the night, and how every laugh shared between them felt like a secret just for the two of them. There was something there. Something real. At least, that’s what she told herself.

But lately, things had changed.

The moments of tenderness were becoming fewer and farther between. Where once Rafe had sought her out, now he barely looked at her. Where he had once reached for her hand in the middle of a crowded room, now he seemed to avoid her touch. His calls became infrequent, his texts dry and detached. The way he would glance at her when they were together, cold, distant, almost like she was a stranger, cut through her chest with every passing day.

It wasn’t just the absence of affection that stung; it was the silence. The silence that had become so heavy between them. The unspoken words that used to be so easy to say now seemed impossible to express.

Y/N had tried to ignore it at first, telling herself it was just a phase, that maybe he was dealing with something. After all, Rafe Cameron was always wrapped up in some kind of chaos, always struggling with his own demons. Maybe he was tired, maybe he had too much going on with his family, maybe he just needed space. She tried to convince herself that it was nothing. But deep down, the gnawing doubt in her chest kept growing.

She didn’t know how long she could pretend.

The tipping point came one evening, a night that felt just like all the others, except that it was the first time Y/N realized how much he had really slipped away.

They were sitting at a bonfire on the beach, surrounded by the usual crew, Kiara, JJ, Pope, and a few others who had come to let off some steam after a long week. Everyone was laughing, talking, passing around drinks, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of isolation. She kept glancing over at Rafe, who was sitting with a group of his Kook friends, laughing, his head thrown back, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

He had barely looked in her direction all night. The way he was engrossed in his conversation with them, the way he had kept his distance from her, stung more than it should have. They were always surrounded by people, but it used to be different. She used to be able to find him in a crowd, to catch his eye, to share a smile, a laugh. Now, it was like she was invisible.

She stood up, the warm sand beneath her feet doing little to ground her as she walked toward the group. As she approached Rafe, he didn’t look up right away, didn’t seem to notice her presence until she was standing directly in front of him.

“Hey,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

He glanced up, his eyes dull and distant. For a moment, it felt like he didn’t even recognize her. Then his lips curled into that lazy, indifferent smile, the same one he wore when he didn’t really care about anything, or anyone.

“Hey,” he replied, his tone flat.

Y/N’s heart sank, but she forced herself to keep it together. “You’ve been kind of distant lately,” she said, her voice softer than she intended. “Is everything okay?”

Rafe took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke as if he didn’t even hear her question. “I’m fine.”

That was it. No concern. No acknowledgment. No tenderness.

She wanted to believe him. She really did. But the truth was glaring at her now. The coldness in his voice, the indifference in his eyes, it wasn’t the Rafe she had known. This wasn’t the boy who once pulled her close, who held her like she was the only thing that mattered in a world of chaos. This wasn’t the Rafe who had shared his dreams with her, who had whispered that he couldn’t imagine a future without her in it. This was someone else.

“I miss you, Rafe,” she said quietly, her heart raw.

He didn’t meet her eyes, instead looking over her shoulder like he was searching for someone else. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N. Things are different now.”

The words hit her like a slap, cold and harsh. Things were different now. And deep down, she knew that meant everything had changed, that maybe they had always been on borrowed time. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that maybe, just maybe, he had never felt the same way she did, that maybe she had been living in a fantasy all along.

His friends, oblivious to the moment unfolding, continued to laugh, their voices rising above the crackling fire. But all Y/N could hear was the hollow sound of her own heart breaking.

“Okay,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Okay, Rafe. If you need space, I get it. But this…this isn’t working for me.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he reached into his pocket for another cigarette, lighting it without a word. The silence between them stretched on, heavier than the night air.

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat thick with unshed tears. She wanted to scream, to shake him, to force him to see her. But she knew it was pointless. She had been fighting for this, fighting for him, for so long, and now, it felt like she was losing.

With a final, aching glance at him, Y/N turned and walked away. The sound of her footsteps was muffled by the crashing waves, but the weight in her chest felt louder than ever. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to get away. She needed to breathe, needed to escape the suffocating feeling that she was disappearing right before her own eyes.

She had tried to hold on. She had tried to convince herself that love was enough, that the two of them could overcome their differences, that Rafe was just lost in his own world and would come back to her. But she couldn’t keep pretending anymore. She couldn’t keep chasing someone who had already pulled away.

By the time she reached the pier, her tears had already started to fall. She stood at the edge, staring out at the endless ocean, the weight of everything crashing down on her. The sound of the waves, the cold air against her skin, it was all so empty, just like the space Rafe had left in her life.

“Did I ever mean anything to you?” she whispered to the wind, her voice breaking. “Or was I just another girl to use and forget?”

There was no answer. Just the sound of the ocean, endless and indifferent.

And in that moment, Y/N realized something that cut deeper than any of the lies, any of the broken promises. She had never been the one to fade away. It was always him, always his indifference, his neglect, his coldness.

And now, it was too late to fix it.

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 @nicholaschavezslut69

[alwayssassydreamer]

Lost and Found

A/N: thanks for the request Ann "kid story, reader and kid did run into each other a few times and there's always some tension but they never admitted it and then they lost track of each other until one day they met again, nsfw and gn!reader" sorry it took so long and i hope you like it

Warnings: nsfwish, sex implied, sexual tension, MDNI

Characters: Kid x GnReader

The first time you met Kid, it was nothing special. He was just another brash, loud pirate—impossible to ignore, but not exactly someone you’d seek out either. Yet, from that first encounter, there had been something undeniable between you. Something electric, a pull neither of you acknowledged. At first, you’d chalk it up to mere tension, the kind of animosity that flares when two people constantly clash. You spent months crossing paths, barely exchanging more than a few words, yet every time you did, it was as if the room got hotter. Your gazes lingered a moment too long, your hearts raced for reasons neither of you would admit. But still, nothing ever came of it.

And eventually, life swept you in different directions, as life tends to do.

Years passed. And Kid—Eustass Kid—became nothing more than a name in the back of your mind. The fiery, reckless pirate you couldn't quite forget, but whom you never expected to see again. Until one day, by chance, your paths crossed once more.

You hadn't planned on seeing him, of course. In fact, you had no idea what he’d been up to in all this time. But there he was, just as you remembered. The same fiery red hair, the same cocky posture, the same smirk that seemed to dare the world to challenge him.

Except this time, the air between you felt different. It was charged, heavy with things left unsaid and years of unspoken tension that had only built with time.

You tried to ignore it but his presence was magnetic. And when his eyes met yours, that old, familiar spark flared again. The last time you had seen him, you had almost convinced yourself the pull between you was just your imagination. But now, it felt real, like a flame reigniting in the pit of your stomach.

Kid studied you, his gaze sharp, calculating. The kind of look he reserved for those few things he took seriously. It lingered a moment longer than necessary before he approached you, his steps measured but with that confident swagger.

"Didn’t think I'd run into you again," he said, his voice rough, like it always was, but there was an edge to it now. Something unspoken.

You met his eyes, your breath catching. "I didn’t expect to see you either."

There it was again—the heat between you. That tension, that push and pull. He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth of his body radiating against yours, the faint scent of metal, oil and something sharper underneath. You shifted, uncertain of how to react, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. He had that effect on you.

“You still the same, huh?” Kid’s voice dropped lower, his eyes scanning your face, lingering on the subtle changes time had brought. His gaze softened for the briefest second before that cocky smirk returned.

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it was strained. "Yeah, you haven’t changed either."

It was then that the silence fell between you, thick with everything that had been left unsaid in those years. There was no more pretense of avoiding it. That pull between you had never really faded—it had just waited, simmering beneath the surface, and now it was undeniable.

“Remember the last time we saw each other?” he asked, his voice low, leaning just a bit closer. You couldn’t help the small shiver that ran down your spine, his proximity almost too much to bear. Your chest tightened, memories of the last time you had crossed paths swirling in your mind.

You nodded, your mouth dry, trying to control the flutter of nerves rising in your stomach. “Yeah, I remember.”

There had been an intensity that night—though nothing had happened. You could still recall the way his gaze lingered on you, the way the world seemed to pause in the brief moments when your eyes met, the heat simmering just below the surface. Nothing more than stolen glances, a few teasing words, but the energy had been palpable. Neither of you had acted on it. Until now.

A few beats passed, neither of you speaking, until Kid broke the silence with that same low, dangerous tone. “I don’t think I can keep ignoring this,” he muttered, almost to himself. His eyes never left yours, dark and intent, like a storm ready to break.

And before you could even respond, he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. You could feel his breath on your face now, just inches away, your heart pounding in your chest. Your lips parted slightly, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat.

He saw the hesitation, the subtle shift in your expression, but he didn’t pull back. Instead, his hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin.

"Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it," he whispered, his voice a filled with temptation. “I know I have.”

Your breath hitched. The moment you had been denying for so long, the one you had pushed to the back of your mind, was finally here.

"You keep biting that lip," Kid murmured, leaning forward slightly, his voice a low growl. "Are you nervous, or are you hiding something?"

You froze, meeting his eyes, and for a second, you could’ve sworn you saw the dangerous edge of desire in them. "I don’t know what you mean," you replied, your voice far steadier than you felt.

But as you stared back at him, you realized that your act was slipping. He was too perceptive, too sure of himself, too close. And that damn look on his face told you he knew exactly what was going on inside your head. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

The air around you felt suffocating. "You're a hell of a liar, but I can see right through you," he said, his hand brushing the edge of your arm. You could feel the heat of his skin, and your breath hitched again.

You didn’t move, didn’t speak, but you could feel the desire in the pit of your stomach. Every inch of you wanted to give in, wanted to finally break the silence that had been building between you for far too long. The tension between you both was unbearable, and your resolve crumbled, just a little bit.

The fantasies played out like a film—his hands on your body, his lips trailing hotly down your neck, the heat of his touch spreading through you. The way his powerful form would feel pressed against yours, skin to skin. You swallowed hard, forcing the thoughts away, but they only lingered, burning at the back of your mind.

His fingers grazed your jaw, and you nearly lost it. "I bet you’re imagining all kinds of things right now," he continued, voice low, dangerous. "If you could read my mind... you'd know exactly how badly I want you."

Without thinking, you closed the distance, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was all heat and hunger. It was everything you had both been holding back for years. The world faded away, the space between you collapsing as the kiss deepened, both of you needing, wanting—no longer willing to pretend.

Kid’s hands slid down your sides, pulling you against him, and you didn’t fight it. The years of silence, of distance, of pretending nothing was there—all of it came rushing forward in a flood of passion.

As his hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you there, you felt the shift. This wasn’t a passing moment. This was the beginning of something neither of you had ever been ready to face—until now.

His lips parted from yours for a split second, his breath ragged. “You still want this?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

You didn’t hesitate. “More than you know.”

And with that, Kid’s smirk returned, a dangerous, confident grin that sent another shiver down your spine. Without another word, he took control, his hands moving to undress you slowly, each motion deliberate, teasing. The tension between you built to an almost unbearable point, and you realized then—this was no longer a game of hesitation.

Kid’s eyes darkened as he slowly undressed you, his movements deliberate, controlled, but with an underlying hunger that made your skin prickle in anticipation. Each piece of clothing that came off felt like a weight lifting from your chest, exposing the raw desire you had both been burying for so long. His hands were firm, gentle in a way that only made the anticipation more unbearable.

His lips trailed down your neck, pressing against your skin with a teasing slowness that had your breath catching in your throat. You could feel his heart beating erratically against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating. You had wanted this, wanted him, for so long that now that you were here, now that the moment was finally happening, you could hardly breathe.

You pulled him closer, your hands gripping his shoulders as you kissed him fiercely, letting go of all the restraint you had held onto. It was no longer about playing games, no longer about pretending you didn’t feel the connection between you. It was raw, it was real, and it was more intense than either of you had ever expected.

His lips moved from your mouth to your collarbone, kissing and biting his way down your skin. The sensation was electrifying, every touch sending shockwaves of desire through your body. You arched into him, pressing yourself closer as his hands traced the curves of your body, familiar but different now in the way he touched you—more possessive, more urgent.

When he reached the sensitive skin beneath your ear, you gasped, the feeling overwhelming. Kid paused, his breath warm against your skin as he pulled back slightly, his face inches from yours. His eyes flickered with something darker, something that made your heart race.

“I’ve wanted this for so damn long,” he muttered, voice rough with desire. “And I know you have, too.”

You nodded without hesitation, your lips trembling as you finally gave in to the craving you’d fought against for so long. “I have,” you whispered. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

And with that, Kid didn’t hold back any longer as he slid his vest off. His lips crashed against yours again, harder this time, more desperate, as if he was trying to make up for lost time. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you against him as your bodies pressed together, skin on skin, hearts pounding in perfect sync.

You lost track of everything—the past, the future, the reason you had ever been apart in the first place. All that mattered was the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, the way his name felt like a prayer on your lips as you finally let go of all the tension.

When Kid’s hands began unbuckling his pants, you gasped, the heat between you unbearable. His eyes searched yours for a moment, and there was no more hesitation, no more games. The hunger in his gaze matched your own, and without another word, he pressed you back onto the bed.

You were barely aware of the world around you as he moved over you, his body caging you in, his weight deliciously heavy. The only thing that mattered was the fire burning between you both, the way his hands roamed over your skin, igniting a wildfire of sensations that you couldn’t control. He kissed you again, fiercely, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before his hands slipped between your bodies, pulling you even closer.

The sensations were dizzying. His mouth, his hands, his body—all of it was overwhelming. You didn’t know where you ended and he began anymore. The boundaries between you had dissolved, and all that remained was the pulsing need for each other, for the connection you’d both been denying for so long.

When his lips found their way down your neck again, your hands clung to him desperately, your breath coming in uneven gasps. You knew you couldn’t hold out much longer. The tension was unbearable, and Kid seemed to know exactly how to push you to the edge, every touch a carefully calculated move that made your body tremble with want.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice low and rough in your ear. His fingers found the edge of your underwear, tugging them off with a quiet intensity that made your heart skip. “Been wanting to do this for too damn long.”

You moaned softly, your chest rising and falling with each breath. “Then stop holding back,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, full of urgency. “Take me.”

Your words made him smirk cockily before his lips met yours in a kiss that was fierce, hungry, and deep, as if he was marking you—claiming you in the way you both had craved for so long. His body pressed against yours, and with a single, powerful movement, you felt the heat of him fill you completely.

You gasped, your body arching into his as he took you with a desperate urgency. The world blurred into a haze of sensation, the only thing real was the way he moved against you, the way you both fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their place.

Every thrust, every movement, brought you closer to the edge, the tension between you growing tighter, hotter. Kid’s name slipped from your lips in a breathless cry, and he responded with a low growl, pushing himself deeper, faster, the intensity building until it felt like you might burst from the pressure.

You were both losing control, consumed by the moment, by the need, by everything you had been holding back. And as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, you both came together in a shattering wave of release.

For a long moment, you lay together, breathless and tangled in each other’s arms. Kid’s face was buried in your neck, his body heavy on top of yours, but neither of you cared. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

“I’m not letting you go again,” Kid muttered, his voice muffled against your skin. "You’ve had me from the start.”

You smiled softly, your fingers threading through his hair. "Good," you whispered. "Because I wasn't planning on letting you go again"

[mhaccunoval]

also like. if bill is a hare and harry is a wolf or other carnivore. the prey-predator symbolism

[lyrefromthesea]

I really liked the idea of wolf hybrids hashiras :DD.

so maybe now wolf hybrids hashiras who are obsessed with the reader and the thought of owning the reader so they want to mark them somehow? for example by scenting them or leaving bites, etc.

Male Hashira x reader - Courting done right

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: wolf hybrid!au, omega!reader

Tengen:

• gifts. gifts. gifts. have i mentioned he's going to use gifts?

• such a cute omega, he is more than ready to take care of you and take you in as his tsugoku, his new lover - his everything. you're just not recognizable as his. not yet.

• he makes a point out of bestowing gifts upon you. they always have to be expensive and flashy. the gift that got everything going was a perfume, the same all his wives had.

• every demon slayer knows that exact scent, it's just that there's now a fourth individual wearing it. everyone realized it sooner than you - you carried the same hint as his wives.

Obanai:

• he gives you obvious hints about his courting intentions, directly telling you that he would like to take you to a nice restaurant or walk you home.

• but do not expect him to actually spell it out, he's not the kind of person to do it. by the time you openly acknowledge your relationship, everyone around the two of you has already thought you were mates.

• small presents and weekly dinners are more than common, he needs to show you that he can take care of you.

Rengoku:

• biting and scenting. it started with scenting though.

• when he finds you curled up somewhere, dozing off after a mission, he always does the same thing. as soon as he made sure you're really asleep, he's by your side, warm arms wrapping around your body and keeping you close.

• waking up and realizing that his scent had rubbed off on you, you are more than happy. it becomes natural to wake up with him by your side. the biting started after a kakushi eyed you weirdly. Kyojuro reacts quickly, leaving a bite on your shoulder before nuzzling against you like usually.

• neither of you complains about the new addition to his old habits. in fact, you make sure to doze off near him sometimes, happy to wake up with a new mark.

Sanemi:

• he's possessive of you, definitely not in the cute way either. when he realizes other corps members take interest in you, he's lurking near you. it doesn't take long for others to flee, the man is staring daggers into them.

• he starts to come up with courting methods when he realizes you're not going to be around him all the time. he needs to make his presence known, even when he's not really there.

• he's quick to give you a few pieces of his clothes, telling you to wear them every now and then. the clothes nearly reek of his scent, strong pheromones taking over the area around them. if he wanted to prove he's an alpha, he had clearly succeeded.

• and though the clothes came with the best intention - protecting you - people subconsciously try to avoid you whenever you wear them.

Giyuu:

• he's not to sure about courting you, he had never done so before. he tries to sneak a few secrets from couples he watches walking past him. presents, taking you out, scenting - he had tried it all.

• eventually manages to eat outside with you from time to time, often finding yourself conversing under a tree. he had to stop his tail from swishing around when you leaned against his arm, resting your head against his shoulder. uses the moment to rub his cheek against you lightly, leaving a faint hint of his scent behind.

• it's always a nice surprise to find a small gift from him near your door, wrapped in a small cloth. he knows that you know where they come from, happy when he sees them on you the next day.

Gyomei:

• with him, you can't say when exactly the courting began. he first offered scenting you a few weeks after you were ranked a hashira. though it was slightly weird at first, you quickly became used to it.

• you knew he would never force the scenting on you, but it somehow gotten to a silent agreement. it was for your safety at first - demons prefered attacking omegas - he could cover your scent with his own.

• however, the simple scenting quickly escalated into a mark or two, nuzzling against each other and eventually leaving bites on your shoulders.

[fiyaerrigan]

Tommy kisses Buck's birthmark, but only in the most intimate of moments where no one is around to see.

It's not something frantic or passionate, so it doesn't happen when they get physical. Hell, it doesn't happen often enough to take the place of "hello" kisses when Tommy arrives for a date. But when it does happen, Buck notices.

It's not that Buck has a thing about his birthmark. It's not even that Tommy has a thing about his birthmark—At least, he doesn't think Tommy does. Based on past experience, Buck's pretty sure he would have picked up on that by now.

He's been in a lot of relationships—hookups and romances alike—so he knows when someone likes his birthmark in a way that goes beyond passing appreciation. He's had partners who have to acknowledge it and point out its unique-ness and get into his birthmark in a way that Buck never fucking judged, because it felt good—plus, it wasn't like he had gone through life without fixating on a person's physical attributes. Buck has been known to check out a redhead and appreciate a Tommy-cleft or two, after all.

At the end of the day, the Birthmark Thing doesn't really matter to Buck: people liking it just sort of happens, and he's happy to go along with it whether it's an offhand compliment or something more.

But with Tommy—even if it maybe it is a thing and neither of them knows it—it just feels different.

It happens in moments where Buck least expects it.

It happens when they're both in bed exhausted from rough shifts and staring at the ceiling maybe a few inches apart, because one of them got tired of the other's body heat after five minutes cuddling. They end up back on the subject of work, and sometimes it's funny and sometimes it's sad. Either way, something happens and Buck is pulled across the distance—sometimes, Tommy's hand traces up Buck's arm and ghosts softly over Buck's brow, other times there's an abrupt tug towards him and a decisive smek of lips against skin. Every time, Buck can do nothing other than melt in the goddamned afterglow that follows.

It's just a kiss. It's not a kiss on the lips or a kiss that's dirty and better-suited for the charged silence of the bedroom. It's just a little peck. On his birthmark.

And yet, every time it happens, Tommy stares Buck down—practically dead in the eyes—and moves so deliberately. Time seems to slow. When he doesn't drown in Tommy's gaze, Buck swears he can see the slightest fear in the other man's eyes—there so subtly that Buck hesitates to say it's present at all.

What Tommy has to be afraid of, Buck doesn't know—or maybe he does. Only he's afraid, too.

Whatever it is, Buck doesn't ask. Whatever it is, Tommy doesn't say.

All Buck knows is that in the quiet moments where Tommy kisses his birthmark, it feels like Tommy's saying something. Something that matters.

Sometimes, a feeling hits Buck so intensely—expressed by three little words he just can't let out, not yet. When Buck gets that feeling, Tommy gets this look in his eyes like maybe he feels the same way. Most of the time, Buck can hardly bring himself to believe it. Other times, he's able to give in. Sometimes, when Tommy looks at Buck that way, he kisses Buck's birthmark.

When that happens—slowly, fearfully, tenderly—Buck can't help but think the following:

Maybe he loves me too. Maybe I can say it.

But Buck is Buck. He rushes into things and then they fall apart and burn before his eyes. And, sure, Tommy doesn't seem to mind—he even seems to like Buck's Buck-ness, if Buck's being honest—but Buck isn't about to let something this good fall apart just because he got ahead of himself.

So he doesn't say it, but Tommy still kisses him.

The days begin. Buck and Tommy go to work and kiss each other goodbye. After work, Tommy keeps buying dinner until Buck looks at him and grumbles that Tommy never lets him pay. Tommy's eyes soften, and Tommy smiles at him.

Later that night, when they're alone, Tommy kisses him and it feels like it means something.

The days end. Lots of days end, actually. Buck's been keeping stock of them like little scrapbook mementos held tightly to the chest. One second it's September, and the next it's Halloween and Buck has boils that are absolutely gross all over his face. Tommy kisses him anyway. Tommy goes to a funeral for a cowboy who died centuries ago, and doesn't laugh at Buck's expense—not in this moment where it matters.

Buck holds the day close to his chest. Weeks later, when he's fanning away smoke and scraping off the black edges of a failed attempt—at baking, not forgetting, he swears—Buck finds himself alone in his kitchen and defeated enough to admit a single fear:

He still holds the day close. He holds it close to his heart and cannot let it go.

Tommy kisses his birthmark.

The feeling builds and builds and burns.

[skyahri]

Hate |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha

Summary: Hate is a strong word, but it's also a very fragile one.

Warnings: Brief smut, kissing mentions of p and v. Some angst, but all comfort. Mentions of blood, violence, and death.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Kakashi Hatake

You hated how full of himself he was. He was always talking down to people, to his teammates and so-called friends. He goes out of his way to show people up no matter how inappropriate the situation may be.

He hated that you always stuck up for people he considered weak. He hated how much time and energy you put into helping others instead of focusing on your own training. He hated that you had so much potential, yet seemed to waste it at every opportunity.

As time went on and you were forced into each other's inner circles, your occasional arguments became a constant bicker. It got even worse when you were assigned to his ANBU team. You questioned his every move and fought every decision he made.

In return, he always gave you the least desirable night shifts. He'd make you write all the reports, saying something about needing to learn to respect your elders (he's only a few months older than you).

Once you were put in charge of your own team, things quieted down. Not because either of you had mellowed out, but because you didn't cross paths as often anymore.

Because of how rarely you saw him, you always made sure to make your brief encounters worth it. You had practically written a list of insults to throw his way. He returned the same energy with out hesitation.

Eventually, after his genin team had gone their separate ways and you had finally retired from ANBU, you had a seemingly infinite amount of time to rekindle your rivalry with him.

He always seemed to be heading in the same direction as you were. It didn't matter if you were on your way to the Hokage's office, the shops, or meeting up with someone- he was always there.

You tried to fight with him like the good old days, but it was different now that you were grown adults. Maybe the ungodly amount of trauma combined with the wedge distance had created in your odd relationship had finally put an end to your petty war.

Thinking back, maybe this is what it had been all along, and your stupid kid brain was too proud to admit what was really going on.

Your arguing had turned into kissing the moment he stepped through your apartment door. Things moved quickly, expert hands doing away with endless layers of Jonin uniforms in a rushed attempt to feel more of each other.

It felt right. Like the decades of tension had finally come to a head and you were being forced to deal with it in the most animalistic way possible.

"I hate you."

Your mumbling between desperate kisses. He doesn't acknowledge you immediately, opting to instead lift you by your ass so your legs could wrap around him. He pushes you against the wall, pressing his clothed election right against your womanhood.

"I hate you, too."

Neither of you acknowledges the elephant in the room, that the word you're looking for isn't actually hate. But that's beyond your cloudy minds right now.

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru has never really bothered with social pleasantries or subjected himself to cater to what people like and dislike. In fact, he often chastised people for caring what others think.

He always commented about what you wore, how well groomed you were, and the overall effort you put into your appearance each day.

You hated listening to it, which is why you always did your best to avoid him.

It wasn't even about you specifically. You hated hearing how rudely he'd shut down Ino when she would ramble on about anything. You hated when he complained about how loud Naruto and Kiba were despite knowing that they're just excitable people. You hated hearing the damn near sexist remarks he'd make about how stupid people were for giving any shots about how they looked.

It was annoying. It didn't seem to phase anyone else anymore, but that almost made it worse.

You were at your breaking point. Just one comment away from losing your composure and you prayed to God you'd be able to refrain from saying anything too harsh.

But alas, Kakashi had assigned you to yet another mission with him- the sixth one just this month.

At least he waited until you were at the Inn before he started up with you. You honestly don't know why he let you shower first if it was going to be such an issue.

"Finally. I thought you'd be in there forever."

"What the Hell is your problem with me?"

He paused in his tracks. He wasn't expecting you to say anything to his usual grumbling, and especially didn't expect it to be so hostile.

"You always take forever in the bathroom."

"It was twenty minutes. You'll live."

"It wouldn't be that long if you didn't bother with all the extra shit you use."

"Why is it such a problem that I care about what I look like? I don't ever involve you in it and yet you're always talking about it."

He rolled his eyes, about to blow off whatever you were saying, but you started up again before he could.

"All you ever do is bitch and whine and moan about dumb shit that doesn't concern you. I like to look nice. I like wearing clothes that compliment my figure and putting time into the health of my hair and skin. It's not the end of the world, so shut the fuck up about it already."

You walked past him and lay in one of the twin beds, tired from the journey and pissed about your teammate's usual poor behavior.

He didn't say anything. He continued with what he was going to do before the argument and carried on like nothing had happened.

He kept any conversations strictly professional for the duration of the mission, something you were ecstatic about.

It wasn't until a few days after you returned home that you heard from him. He showed up at your apartment unprompted, looking irritated and slightly flustered.

"After talking with my team, it may have come to my attention that I might be kind of an ass."

You invited him in, curious as to what he had to say. He admitted that he had never been called out on it. Most people don't take him too seriously and he may have gotten a bit too comfortable voicing every thought that crossed his mind.

Although he had mostly soothed any nerves you had, you still decided he owed you.

You dragged him into your room, sat him at your vanity, and laughed when he groaned. You pulled out all the stops for him. You took him through your entire routine start to finish and when you were done, you asked him hiw it felt.

He hated that it felt nice. He hated that he suddenly realized how dry his skin usually was and how clean he suddenly felt. He would never fully admit that to you, though.

Him showing up at your apartment the next day, conveniently around the time you usually started these things, was all the confirmation you needed that he no longer deemed it a waste of time.

Sasuke Uchiha

He hated going to the Hokage's office, not because he was still in the thick of earning his freedom after the war, but because he hated Kakashi’s assistant.

You annoy him. He hates that you so confidently push his buttons. He hates that you're just a civilian, but you've been given so much authority over him. It was an unfit existence for the last Uchiha.

You enjoyed messing with him. He would grumble when given his assignment and you made sure to mock him with a playful pout. You'd check in with the ANBU watching over him to make sure he was behaving. You always used that word- behaving. As if he were a child.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, Kakashi isn't in the village right now, meaning he's stuck taking orders from you. He swears Kakashi picked you to oversee him intentionally, knowing how much it would bother him.

He's sitting next to you, helping you go through seemingly endless piles of paperwork. He wasn't sure if this was better than all the D-rank missions he'd been assigned lately, but he begrudgingly accepted the change of pace.

He glances at you through his peripherals. The sun is just going down, the orange light illuminating your soft features. Your usual bratty expression was replaced with a more peaceful one.

This was most likely just as much a break for you as it was for him. He wasn't oblivious to the way you had to reel Kakashi in every day, damn near having to tie him to his chair to get anything done.

"You can go home. I'll finish up here and we can resume tomorrow."

He didn't argue, thankful for relief from the horrifically tedious task. As he was leaving the building, he suddenly got this feeling in his gut that he should stay.

Of course, not wanting to do more paperwork than he was required to, he ignored the feeling and carried on.

He should've stayed. Just an hour after he left, while you were packing up for the night, the tower was raided by rogue nin.

The alarm sounded in the village, immediately calling all available shinobi. Bee, the ANBU assigned to him, gave him permission to lend a hand, and off they went to the tower.

He teleported himself to Kakashi’s office, knowing you would most likely be in there or at least somewhere near. What he wasn't expecting, however, was you standing over a body, kunai in hand and blood splattered across your body.

"Y/N?"

You didn't move, couldn't move. He reached forward, tugged the blade out of your shaky grip, and let it fall to the floor. You let him, not really in the mood to fight any more than you had to right now.

"Is he dead?"

Your question caught him off guard.

"I've never killed anyone before."

Ah. Civilian. Right. Sure, you belonged to a Shinobu village and even worked under the Kage, but that was vastly different than being on the front lines.

He thought for a second. Was he in any sort of position to be responsible for you at the moment? Should he hand you off to one of the other nin and return home?

"Cover your eyes."

It took a minute for his words to register in your hazy mind, but once they did you obeyed. If there was one thing you knew would benefit you, it would be allowing him to take the lead for now.

He put his hand between your shoulder blades and guided you through the hallways, down the stairs, and away from the tower completely. He glanced around, but couldn't find Bee, so he opted to take you back to his apartment. It would cause a lot less trouble if he was where he was supposed to be after all.

At home, he sat you down in the tub and turned on the water. He left you there, letting all the blood loosen from your skin. He returned a moment later, setting a stack of clothes down on the counter and grabbing a rag from the cabinet.

Neither of you spoke as he gently scrubbed your face. When he was done, he got a little bit of shampoo and worked all the red out of your hair.

You were slowly coming out of your daze. It was nice being brought out by something kind and comforting. It was almost enough to distract you from the night's events. Almost.

When he was done, he handed you the cloth, telling you to finish up and see him when you're done. You nodded, standing up and undressing when the door closed. You noticed how clean the water ran, most likely due to how thoroughly the Uchiha had taken care of you.

When you stepped out of the tub, you noticed the clothes on the counter. Upon closer inspection, they were similar to the ones he was wearing now- a t-shirt and sweats.

You joined him in the adjacent bedroom where he waited patiently. He all but forced you into his bed, shutting down all of your protests. When he went to leave the room, you quickly grabbed the fabric of his shirt to stop him.

"Please stay."

He didn't fight you. He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard and staring blanky in front of him.

You were thankful for the comfort of simply not being alone. Not after tonight, when so much had happened and the trauma was still fresh in your mind.

He tried telling himself that this was not a personal act, but instead one that would aid his village. But who was he kidding? He was realizing you weren't all that terrible and he had just allowed his angst brain to manipulate him into thinking so.

[machveil]

Heheheh

Loser! Konig when after the soldiers pull their prank on him you reverse the roles.

You catch him alone (or invite him somewhere private under a guise) and try to confront him about what happened. He doesn't want to talk about it and tries to avoid the subject. Looking like a scolded schoolboy hunched in his seat, feeling hot embarrassment swell in his throat as he looks at the floor to avoid eye contact.

He hears you get up and walk behind him and assumes you're leaving. Of course you are, he fucked up, he never should have ever assumed someone could like him and now look at how he's embarrassed himself. It's probably for the best that you leave before you see his tears-

Your hand snakes around his throat to tilt his head back the same way he did to you so he can look at you standing above him. Breath hitching.

You scold him for not making eye contact. "Can't even look me in the eye? Acting so shy now, surely you remember being so bold before."

He leans into your hand, eyes rolling back and lips parting in euphoria if he presses against you hard enough maybe you'll leave a mark

He's so out of it he fails to react when your hand leaves his neck and only notices when your thumb swipes some drool leaking from his lips and presses on his tongue.

He has to blink himself back to reality just in time to hear you tell him to find you when he plans on being anything more than a coward as you leave the room.

oh my god, I didn’t think this could get any better— (in reference to this post and the follow up)

CW: light choking, humiliation, König gets hard twice, back at it with the Loser!König vibes

he really couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge you. he wanted to, but that burning guilt in his chest always clawed up his throat when he caught a glimpse of you. wrapped a hand around your neck in a drunken stupor

he could only apologize so many times before fleeing - never letting you get a word in. if he did, he was sure all you’d say was how disgusting he was, a pervert. someone you considered a friend, sneaking up on you, condescending tone as he asked you to speak a language you didn’t know. ‘Ich liebe dich’ - he can hardly believe he asked you to say that

and yet, that confused look in your eyes as he held you? he can’t stop thinking about it. it’s burned into his mind, a blessing and a curse - you looked cute, brows knit and lips a little pouty with concern… but that shame would come back to gnaw at his mind. a double edged sword, but that expression of yours outweighs his guilt at night behind closed doors

he shouldn’t be turned on over what happened - but in that moment you looked so helpless to him. you aren’t, you’re still a soldier, but in his twisted mind you looked fragile. he was embarrassed when he fled, red hot anger in his chest from being lied to, but oh so achingly hard when he reached his room that night

he was used to hiding under his sheets, used to bucking into his fist as he imagined you, but this time? the shame and guilt eating at his mind - instead of picturing you under him, all König could think about was you calling him gross, vile for assuming you’d like him. cheeks flushed with humiliation, because that’s what it was to him. humiliated that he’d bought into a lie, humiliated that he was getting off on what happened

a long night, alone in his dark room moaning - your voice degrading him echoing in his head. he couldn’t say when he fell asleep, but when he woke up that morning he decided it’d be better to apologize again, repeatedly, and leave. leave you alone, pine from afar, and keep himself company at night with thoughts of you

and that’s what he did - it’s been a few days since then. as large as he was, he was surprisingly good at evading you. it’s difficult for him when you have to see each other, the forced proximity twisting his gut with nerves. he missed the butterflies you gave him, the warmth that bloomed in his chest. he still thinks about you smiling at him, a small distraction as he walks away from the training grounds, unaware of you coming up behind him

“König! Hey, come here for a second.”, he’s sure he’s just hearing something, his heads so caught up with guilt that your voice is just playing in his mind. but when he feels a hand grab his wrist, he looks down and sees you, his blood running cold as you look up at him, “Just wait a second, please?”

all you get are icy eyes staring down at you - his flushed face hidden behind his hood, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. all he can muster is a curt nod, his throat dry as he tries to breathe in, “Can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me and— well, I think we just need to talk about what happened, okay?”

you’re met with silence, hand falling from his wrist as he stares. you’re about to turn around, call this a lost cause and try again later when he speaks, “Okay.”. his voice was strained, small when it was usually a little louder. it made your heart twist hearing him like that - even if he was reserved and didn’t speak much, he’d still carry confidence when he spoke to you. he did before

a beat passes before you crack a small smile at him, a quick nod in the direction of the barracks. when you turn to walk König finds himself frozen for a moment. why would he say okay? maybe he just wanted to bite the bullet and get this over with subconsciously, let you yell at him and be mad - he wouldn’t blame you

wrapped his too big, too calloused, too rough hand around you - that was the only image in his head. he could still see it when he closed his eyes - he could still feel your skin on his if he focused. it made him feel dirty, it made him feel— “König?”

he’s brought back out of his mind when he hears your voice. paused a few feet ahead of him, waiting for him to follow. and, like the lovesick fool he is, he does what he always does - he follows you. glued to your side like it’s where he belongs, but all he feels is the sense that, once alone, you’ll call him deprived, a desperate man that just wanted to feel you

it’s a short walk to the barracks, nothing said between you two. König’s room is closer, and rather than draw out the walk to your room, you stop in front of his. “Is it okay if we talk in here?”, you cautiously ask, afraid he’d run away again

he wants to say something, voice his thoughts, but all he does is reach for the door handle. a quick turn, and it’s opening - the giant man stepping over the threshold. you’re quick to follow him in, in case he shuts the door or turns to leave. maybe, you think, he’ll be more at ease in his own room

he sighs, deep and audible as he pulls out his desk chair. he’s almost too big for it, a little too bulky. his back to the door, he simply looks down - unable to look at you, sure of what’s to come. a screaming fit, spewing obscenities, something that’ll make his heart shatter more than it already has

he hears you speaking, sees your shoes in front of him as he looks at the floor. it’s all muffled, tuned out as his brain swirls with ‘what if’s’. what if they yell? what if they cry? what if they leave? what if they never come back? what if—

it takes him a moment to notice you’re not standing in front of him anymore, and when he glances up you’re not in view. gone. left him to wallow in his room, to sit and think. he’s already tugging his hood off, discarded onto his desk. messy copper hair and scars on display, he sinks back into his chair, head held low

he lets his eyes flutter shut, the silence in the room deafening as he mourns. stupid, it’s worse knowing he’s lost you and you’re still roaming the base. gone, but still here— eyes opening when he feels a hand on his neck, a palm against his throat, he swallows

“You won’t talk to me, you can’t even look at me, König.”, oh god, your voice, low and condescending as you speak. your fingers snugly resting against the column of his throat, déjà vu hits König like a truck when your pointer finger nudges against his chin, “You were really confident… what happened to that?”

bare skin touching bare skin, and when you gently press your finger under his chin, making him tilt his head up? he’s pretty sure this is pure bliss, “Look at me.”. and, oh, that stern tone you have goes straight down his spine, nerves tingling as his icy gaze meets yours. your hand— your warmth against his neck nearly has his brain turning to mush

he likes this, he’s being scolded by you for ignoring you, your hand wrapped around his neck. eyes half lidded, gazing up at you, his mind is somewhere else entirely. you’re talking again, probably commenting on how he’s been behaving, but all he’s focused on doing is leaning into your touch. pressing his neck a little more against your hand, biting back a low groan when you absentmindedly squeeze

you weren’t even looking at him anymore, gesturing with your other hand as you look up - frustrated, your eyebrows knit. you look so good like this, and the effect is more than obvious. between the tent in his pants on the way it looks like his brain should be oozing out his ears, the drool running down his chin, König’s not really present in the moment

he nearly misses it when you move your hand off his neck, blinking when you wipe the drool from his lip. “I’m not mad, König. Just… when you get yourself together, feel free to come find me, yeah?”, and there’s that smile - fond gaze looking down at him the way he missed, this time more intimate. patting his cheek briefly, spit smearing his skin a little, he sits up and watches you leave

he’ll come find you Maus, eventually. for now, in the dim lighting of his room, he’s more focused on working his belt off

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

+

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

+

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

+

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

+

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[fatalhoon]

jisung headcanons — random relationship things

warnings | not much, very fluffy! one mention of reader being smaller than him, one swear word, one tiny nsfw mention, g!n overall but reader is described as having hair long enough to tie up/braid and does their makeup

a.n | i need him :((

this cute lil mf i adore him

first of all he’s such a silly little goober

he’s shy so it takes him a while to get used to being completely authentic around you

but eventually he’ll relax when he knows for certain that you love him exactly how he is and he can be himself

he strikes me as the type to do the dumbest little things just so he can hear you laugh

a few examples:

sometimes when you’re kissing, out of nowhere he’ll blow air into your mouth to puff up your cheeks

he never does it during more serious and truly intimate moments (he can read the room)

but when he does it catches you off guard every time and it always sends you into a giggle fit because its just so stupid

you’ll go in to kiss him again but now you think he’s just gonna do it again even if he promises he won’t so you can’t continue without laughing

“i’m not even doing anything!” he pouts

but seeing you so giggly about something he did just makes him so happy (and proud)

if you’re sitting somewhere he’ll come over and just

sit on you

straight up knock the wind out of you and shuffle around, groaning like he can’t get comfortable

and act like he’s completely oblivious to the fact he’s literally using you as a cushion

he’ll pull out his phone and text you like “hey where are you :(“

and he pretends he can’t hear you if you try and talk to him

its already really hard for him to keep a straight face when he does this so all you have to do is tickle him

then he has to acknowledge you

“omg hi i didn’t even see you there!! :))”

in the same vein, he’ll come up to you while you’re standing and just flop his full weight onto you in a hug

if you clock it before it happens you’ll have to adjust your stance or grab onto something so you don’t fall over

but if you don’t then uh. good luck soldier

(just kidding he’ll catch you)

you do the same thing to him but he’s bigger and it doesn’t have the same effect on him

he loves it anyway though, he’ll drop anything he’s doing to wrap an arm around your waist

another thing he likes to do is use your hands to do things for him

like he’ll grab your hands and move them around, so really its still him doing it he’s just using your hands instead

mostly when he’s on his phone or if he’s playing a game

he holds your hand which holds his phone, and grabs your finger to scroll through his feed

or he’ll have you in front of him and gives you the game controller, reaching around you to puppet your hands

if you’re wearing a hoodie he shoves his arms through the sleeves with yours to make it easier

you’re more than likely wearing his hoodie anyway so he says its only fair that you share it

i’m a physical touch jisung truther if you couldn’t tell

he must always be touching you in some capacity

scientists have not proven why yet but the working theory is that jisung is a certified cutie

he just loves being close to you!! so physical affection is the best way to remind himself that you’re here with him :’)

canonically, jisung is a wanderer

he’ll trail around with no real destination in mind

he just has lots of thoughts in his head and likes to walk while he sorts them out

sometimes he’ll hold your hand and make you walk around with him if he’s feeling clingy (which is often)

other times he’ll just let you be

but he always kisses your cheek or your head when he passes by

absolutely the type to cling to you while you’re in the middle of a task and shuffle around the house with you

its just a little hard for him to sit still sometimes

even if he is sitting still, his hands are not

and i reiterate, he likes to be touching you in some way, so more often than not he’ll be playing with your fingers or your hair

jisung is also a canon rambler

mostly to himself

if you’re there he doesn’t expect a reply because really he’s just talking to himself

but if you have an opinion on the topic he’ll always listen

if he’s talking about something and you happen to fall asleep he keeps the conversation going by himself

once you told him that his talking made its way into your dream and you had a full blown rant about aliens with him while you were asleep

it was the cutest thing he’s ever heard

sometimes he’ll be so excited to say something that he’ll cut you off

he doesn’t mean to, it just comes out a little sooner than he means for it to, and he always apologizes

he gets better about that as time goes on

he has a habit of imitating things you say

not in the sense that he’s mocking you, he just likes the way it sounds when you say it so he tries to parrot it

he’ll do that with certain facial expressions you make too

jisung is a curious boy, and he loves to learn everything he can about the people he loves

he watches your favorite movies and shows with you, he takes the time to participate in your hobbies, he lets you take him to all of your favorite places

so he can get a glimpse into the aspects of your life that make you happy

his favorite thing though is watching you play your favorite video games

if you’re gaming he insists that you sit on his lap or between his legs so he can wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder

he’s a little bit of a backseat gamer but you don’t really mind

its a bit annoying when he nags you about continuously losing a fight or dying on the same level (you know he means well)

but you love the input he gives on more slice of life type games, like decorating your animal crossing island or farming your crops in stardew valley

he did however just about have a heart attack when you showed him how many ways you knew how to kill a sim

co op games are one of his favorite ways to spend time with you as well

especially if one or both of you are absolutely shit at it (which if we’re being honest is like 95% of the time)

overcooked, however, is dangerous territory

too many soups burned

anyway, his curiosity doesn’t stop at just your hobbies and interests

even mundane things like daily habits and routines are things that jisung wants to know all about

along the way he’s picked up on such small things that you barely remember ever mentioning them

all of your preferences are filed away in his head

whenever you’re doing something like your hair or makeup or skincare, he’ll sit with you and ask what every aspect of it is or does

eventually he’ll ask if you can teach him how to do them for you

it definitely required a little.. practice

but no one is perfect the first time they try something new!!

(you had to tell him that, even he didn’t let you leave the house the first time he did your makeup)

he gets better though, especially doing your hair!

to the point that he got tired of doing simple ponytails and braids and took it upon himself to research new hairstyles to teach himself

you found it very endearing :’)

jisung loves to shower together

less in a sexual way (though he isn’t opposed) and more because it feels so intimate and domestic to him

and he adores when you wash his hair for him

feeling you gently massaging in the shampoo and scratching at his scalp is probably his favorite feeling in the whole world

in conclusion

jisung would be so sweet and clingy i love him to death :((

[springtyme]

Maybe something with Steve x f!reader where she is a bit inexperienced and insecure when it comes to dating ad steve askes her out but she is oblivous and thinks it's just as freinds but steve really likes her

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ♡

Steve Harrington x reader || Main masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: If anyone had told your high school self that in a few years you would become friends with Steve Harrington, you would never have believed them, but here you are.

word count: 4.1k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗) 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

The crisp autumn air wraps around you like a cozy blanket as you step out of your house, one hand clutching your purse while the other fiddles nervously with the hem of your sweater. Tonight is the annual Hawkins fall festival, and you are beyond excited, you’ve always loved this time of year and Halloween is just around the corner. You’re especially excited because Steve asked you if the two of you should go together, which, if you had been told this a few years back, you would never have believed. 

Back then, Steve Harrington was the quintessential popular kid: the cocky, charming, handsome, jock,  always surrounded by a group of friends, the king of cool himself. He was all the things that you were not. You were the quiet girl, the one who blended into the background, often lost in books or daydreams. You had admired him from a distance, never once as much as imagined that he’d ever as much as acknowledge your existence. 

But people change. Steve has transformed over the years, shedding his old persona for something deeper, something more substantial. You have become friends after you started working full time at family video with him this summer. It was awkward at first; the memories of your high school days still lingered in the back of your mind. But as the weeks passed, you found a rhythm together. Steve’s charm was still there, but now it was complemented by kindness and genuine interest in those around him. He was no longer just the popular kid; he was just Steve—and you happen to really like this Steve. 

Sometimes you think that he might feel the same way about you. There are those moments when his gaze linger a little too long, or when he will lean in a little closer than needed to laugh at something silly you said. He seems to always remember the little things—your favorite candy, the books you love, how you like your coffee—there’s a comfortable warmth that has built between you, something that simultaneously feels completely normal and natural yet so confusing. 

You don’t know what to make of it all, all you know is the butterflies in your stomach are practically doing the cha-cha everytime he looks at you, which makes you feel silly, you’re not his type, but the feeling is undeniable. 

You take a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs, and step outside fully. Steve is standing by his car, a warm smile lighting up his face as he catches sight of you. His hair is slightly tousled by the wind, and he’s wearing that dark green sweatshirt you mentioned under his jacket that you had mentioned you liked a few weeks ago.

“Hey,” he calls out, a smile spreading on his face as he sees you, his eyes sparkling in the golden light of the last sun of the day that illuminates the street. 

“Hey!” you call back, trying to match his energy as you walk towards him. You notice the way his gaze flickers from your face to your outfit—a simple but cute sweater and jeans—but also the way you feel inexplicably warm inside, even as a light breeze rustles the leaves around you.

“You look great,” he compliments, his smile growing wider as he opens the car door for you. You slip inside, fighting back the blush creeping up your cheeks. “I’m really glad that you said yes to come with me, I really wasn’t sure if you would say yes.”

You nod, excitement bubbling in your chest. “Of course. This is going to be fun.”

Steve smiles at your words, a soft one that makes your heart flutter even more. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he admits, starting the engine with a low roar.

The drive to the festival passes quickly, filled with casual chatter and laughter, though you can’t help but feel like there is a slight tension in the air between you. The festival lights twinkle in the distance as you park, and your heart races at the sight of all the attractions—the hay bales, the pumpkins, and the Ferris wheel glowing in the twilight.

As you step out of the car, Steve reaches to grab your hand, a brief but electric moment that makes your pulse quicken. It surprises you, and you, more on instinct than thought, do a little jolt of surprise as you feel his warmth enveloping your fingers. Your action seems to startle him as well. He quickly lets go, and you both look at each other, your cheeks heating as if you’ve both just felt the thrill of a secret.

“Uh, how about we start with the ferris wheel?” he suggests, trying to mask his own awkwardness as you move towards the ticket booth, the festive air filled with laughter and the scent of caramel apples.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” you reply, your voice a little shaky as you try to regain your composure. You keep your eyes on the colorful lights strung above, using them as a distraction from the fluttering in your stomach. Friends hold hands, especially in crowded areas, it’s completely normal, but you have just made it weird. 

You purchase your tickets, and while waiting in line, you sneak glances at him, noticing how the festival lights cast a warm glow on his features.

As you stand in line to the ride, the excited energy of the festival surrounds you, yet the moment feels isolated within its own bubble. The cheerful screams from the rides seem distant as you steal another sideways glance at Steve. His brow is furrowed slightly in concentration as he watches the ferris wheel turn, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s trying to keep himself grounded amidst the bubbling awkwardness that seems to linger between you.

“Do you… um, like ferris wheels?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, breaking the comfortable silence while trying to affirm the choice of ride.

You chuckle lightly, appreciative of the effort he’s making to fill the space with conversation. “I think they’re great. It’s nice to see everything from up high, even though I’m a little afraid of heights.” The confession spills from your lips before you can second-guess it.

“Uh oh,” he grins, his tension visibly dissipating as a laugh escapes him. “Guess I’m gonna have to protect you from the edge then.”

“Right,” you reply, your heart racing a little faster. There’s something so comforting in his charm, so disarming in the way he manages to make you laugh while also feeling slightly vulnerable.

There’s only a few more people ahead, you can hear the laughter and excited shrieks of those already atop the ferris wheel, and your heart flutters nervously. The excitement of the ride combines with the nervous energy between you and Steve, creating a concoction of emotions that feels exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Finally, your turn arrives, and you step into the little cabin of the ferris wheel, Steve following behind you. The moment the door closes, you feel an immediate sense of closeness. You both sit on the bench as the ride begins its slow ascent.

A gentle breeze wafts through the cabin as you start climbing higher. The view below spreads out like a beautiful tapestry—people laughing, lights twinkling in the cool night air, and the pumpkin patch glowing in the distance. For a moment, despite that familiar feeling of fear that jolts through your stomach and chest from the height, you’re moved by the beauty of it all.

But just as quickly, the magic of the moment shifts, and you become acutely aware of Steve next to you. The cabin sways slightly, and instinctively, you lean in closer to him, hoping to steady yourself. Your shoulder brushes against his, and the side of your thighs presses against each other, and suddenly, there’s an electric charge in the air again. 

Steve seems to notice, too; his breath hitches slightly, and he glances at you, his brown eyes searching yours for a brief moment before darting away, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. The world outside the ferris wheel becomes a distant memory, the vibrant festival lights melting into a blurred backdrop as the two of you share this intimate space.

“How’re you holding up?” he asks, attempting to calm you with that signature Steve Harrington smile. It’s warm and inviting, and you can’t help but return it, hoping it conveys the mix of excitement and anxiety brewing within you.

“Honestly?” you start, biting your lip slightly as you consider whether to admit the truth. “I’m a little scared, but being up here with you helps.” You hope your honesty doesn’t make things awkward again.

“I’m always available whenever you need to ride a ferris wheel,” he says, trying to lighten the mood, but both of you can sense the shift. His arm brushes against yours, and you can feel his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of your sweater.

“What would I do without a friend like you,” you reply. You really are grateful to have him in your life, you’ve never been the girl with the most friends and most of the ones you have moved away from Hawkins after high school, but in this moment you can’t help but wish that you and Steve could be more than that. Your gaze drifts down again, watching the world spin beneath you, so you don’t see how his face falls slightly from your words. 

The air between you thickens with unspoken words, the gentle rocking of the ferris wheel almost amplifying the silence. You focus on the lights below, momentarily getting lost in the vibrant colors and sounds of laughter, but your mind drifts back to Steve. Thoughts of his warmth against your skin make your heart race even faster.

“Hey,” he begins, his voice slightly hesitant, forcing your attention back to him. “I was thinking about…um, going to the hayride after this. It’ll be fun, right?” He’s trying to recapture the lightness of the moment, but there’s a different edge to his tone, almost insecurity.

“Sure,” you reply, maybe a bit too fast, wanting to seem interested in his idea and hopefully get the vibe between you back on track.

He smiles at your enthusiasm, but it’s a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he turns his gaze back to the ground below, watching the festival swirling around. The brief flicker of uncertainty in his expression doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more wildly.

Once the ride ends and you both exit the cabin, the festival feels even more alive, filled with laughter, screams, and the smell of fried food wafting through the air.

The lights twinkle like the stars above, casting a gentle glow over everything, but the feeling of electric tension still lingers. Forcing a smile, you look over at Steve, hoping to read his expression. He’s glancing slightly shyly at you, scrunching his hands in his pockets again—a telltale sign of nerves.

“Let’s head to the pretzel stand first,” you suggest, wanting to ease the awkwardness. The buttery, salty scent of the pretzels wafts through the air, beckoning you. Plus, you could use a little snack to settle the butterflies.

“Yeah… great idea,” he says, looking towards you, but you break the eye contact too quickly, feeling an odd mix of courage and shyness wash over you. As you walk together, the distance between you feels both far and impossibly close. 

When you approach the stand, the line is relatively short, which is a relief. You’re both quiet as you wait in line. You order two warm, buttery pretzels, and as the vendor hands them over, Steve pays, insisting it’s his treat. You protest, arguing that you could cover your half, but he brushes you off with a simple, “no, no, I got it. I was the one who asked you out, remember?” 

You know that he didn’t mean it like that, but a small warmth spreads in your chest at the thought of this being more than just a friendly outing. You quickly push the thought aside as he hands you your pretzel, mumbling a, “thanks,” without looking him in the eyes. You know that you’re being dumb, you just wish that you could keep your feelings in check, but he looks too good in the sparkling lights, his eyes twinkling in a way that almost hurts. 

There is something about being here with him that feels so bittersweet. It’s easier to just not look at him. You take a bite of your pretzel, the salty goodness grounding you in the moment, and glance around at the festival, trying to focus on the lively atmosphere rather than the tension curling in your stomach.

 You keep eating in silence and you keep focusing on the surroundings of the fair around you, looking anywhere but at Steve besides you. You glance at the spin-the-wheel booth nearby, where a group of kids cheer excitedly as one of them wins a stuffed animal. You can’t help but envy their carefree joy and excitement. You don’t know why you have to find everything so difficult as you stand here with Steve, who was once so far out of reach.

It’s not like you want to ignore him, but suddenly you just don’t know what to say or how to act around him. Growing up, you’ve never been the one people chose, and the idea of going to a fair with a boy who you like and who is as sweet to you as Steve is overwhelming, one of those things you have romanticized, and now that you’re actually here, in a way that is so close to that teenager fantasy you had, but still not in the way you had dreamed of—with someone who just sees you as a friend and colleague.

“Are you alright?” Steve’s voice breaks through your thoughts, the hint of concern in his tone making you look up. He’s studying you closely, his brow slightly furrowed and that adorable furrow in his forehead deepening as he watches you. “You’ve been a bit quiet since the ferris wheel. Was this like… a bad idea?”

“I’m fine!” you assure him a bit too quickly, and you wince at how defensive it ends up sounding. 

“Okay…” he replies, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. It stings more than it should because you know he cares, and that makes it even harder to explain what’s going on inside your head.

You continue to walk in silence for a moment, the vibrant sounds of the festival contrasting with the uncertainty hanging in the air between you. Your heart feels heavy, torn between the joy of being with him and the fear of ruining the one precious relationship you currently have. With each step, a battle rages in your mind, and the taste of the pretzel suddenly feels stale.

“Ready for the hayride?” Steve finally asks after you’ve finished your pretzels, breaking the awkward stretch of silence that had settled between you.

“Yeah, sure,” you respond, trying to sound chill and casual, but you’re afraid it comes out sounding more like indifference. 

When you reach the hayride area, you find a rustic wooden wagon decked out with hay bales and pulled by a tractor, its engine humming softly. The laughter of children playing nearby fills your ears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted. You both hop onto the wagon, taking a seat on a hay bale amid a group of families and friends, and once again, you feel the familiar warmth of Steve beside you.

The tractor lurches forward, and you cling to the edge of your bale as the wagon bounces along the dirt path, the chill of the autumn air mingling with the warmth radiating from Steve. He adjusts his position slightly, leaning closer as the wagon sways, and the subtle change sends your heart racing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice as the ride jostles you both slightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine—just enjoying the view,” you reply, your gaze fixed on the canopy of stars beginning to twinkle above, but your heart is still tuned to him. 

He chuckles softly, but it is a sound that feels somewhat insecure. “I mean, it’s a nice view, but… I would kind of hope you would look at me every now and then.”

Caught off guard, you turn your head to meet his gaze. There’s something in his expression—vulnerability mixed with that boyish charm—that feels disarmingly sincere.

“I’m sorry if I have read things wrong, or if you felt like you had to say yes to this because I asked you,” he continues, the usual lightness in his voice replaced with an honest sincerity that makes your heart race. “We can just forget that this was ever supposed to be a date and just hang out as friends if that's what you’d prefer.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world around you fades into a blur. The sound of the tractor and the laughter of kids playing in the distance become muffled as all your focus shifts to him. ‘This was supposed to be a date…’ Did he really just say that?  

Your heart races in your chest, both from the weight of his words and the vulnerability etched in his expression. You’ve always thought you could keep your feelings hidden, but now, watching him wrestle with his own insecurities, you can’t bear the thought of losing what you’ve built together over these past months.

Your breath hitches, disbelief coursing through you. “This is a date?” It feels surreal, and your mind races to catch up with your heart.

“Yeah,” he affirms, his gaze steady and sincere, each word punctuated by the thrum of your pulse. The admission hangs in the air, heavy and exhilarating.

“Oh,” you manage to breathe out, the weight of his words settling in like the leaves falling around you. Your cheeks flush, warmth flooding your entire face as you try to process what this means.

Steve seems to realize the misunderstanding, his facedeepens with a mix of hope and anxiety. “I mean, if you want it to be…” He shifts slightly, clearly feeling exposed, but the earnest look in his eyes anchors you to the moment.

You can hardly believe this, the butterflies in your stomach now performing a whole concert rather than just a cha-cha. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…” you stammer, trying to find the right words while your heart races like it’s in a sprint. “I thought we were just… hanging out as friends.”

His expression shifts slightly, a blend of relief and a hint of hurt flickering across his features.

“Shit, I should have made it clearer when I asked you out. I was pretty nervous… It’s totally okay, if you don’t feel the same, but I really hoped we could be… more than just friends. I really like you, you know?” The determination in his voice swells with sincerity, and your breath catches again, this time for an entirely different reason. His honesty floods the air around you, and for a moment, everything seems to fade—the laughter, the stars overhead, the gentle bumps of the wagon.

You can hardly process the whirlwind of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave. “You... really like me?” The surprise in your voice is undeniable. You had convinced yourself that the interest was one-sided, a figment of your imagination conjured by the butterflies and the lingering glances.

“Yeah, I do,” he reiterates, an earnest smile breaking through his initial unease. “I didn’t want to rush anything, but spending time with you these past months has been so much fun. Back in high school I always thought you seemed so smart and cool and you know… really pretty. But I didn’t think you would be into a dumb jock like me.” His voice carries a hint of vulnerability, making you melt a little more for him.

Your heart swells at his confession, and the rush of emotions leaves you momentarily speechless. “I thought you weren’t into girls like me,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability seeping into your words.

“Girls like you?” he echoes, eyebrows knitting together in disbelief. “That’s just not true. You’re incredible. You’re smart, funny, and you’re not afraid to be yourself.” The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, filling the gaps left by all the self-doubt that had crept in over the years.

“I… I like you too, Steve,” you admit softly, your heart pounding against your ribcage as the truth finally escapes. The world around you falls away, the crackling of the hay under your knees and the sounds from the festival merging into a blurry background.

He smiles at you, that same breathtaking smile that had made your heart race all summer long. “Really? I mean, wow. I was worried I might have stepped over the line, putting us in some weird situation,” he admits, relief washing over his features.

You shake your head, a joyful laugh bubbling up. “You could never make things weird. I just didn’t realize you felt that way. I always thought I was just... you know, the quiet girl with the crush.”

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow, and there’s a twinkle in his eye that feels like your own secret shared between the two of you. “Well, turns out we’ve both been a bit clueless, huh?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up as you realize how amusing this whole situation is. “Seems like it,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never thought you even noticed me.”

“Trust me, I noticed,” he responds, the intensity of his gaze making your stomach flip. “We can take this slow, just enjoy the night, but I want you to know that I would love to be more than just friends.”

His eyes search yours for reassurance, and at that moment, amidst the laughter and lights of the festival, the world around you shifts into clarity. You both breathe deeply, holding onto this newfound connection as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

With the stars twinkling above, the tractor bumps along the path, and you can’t help but lean a little closer, feeling bolder in the warmth of his confession. “Okay,” you finally respond, your heart fluttering at the thought of all that could come next. “I mean, I’d like that.”

Steve beams, a boyish grin spreading across his face. As the tractor lumbers along, the bright lights of the festival twinkling in the distance. And then, without thinking much at all, you lean in, drawn by some instinctive need to close the distance between you. Your heart beats wildly, anticipation hanging thick in the air as you catch the scent of the autumn breeze mixed with the sweetness of caramel apples and the warmth of hay all around you. Time seems to slow as he meets you halfway, and in a heartbeat, your lips brush against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s sweet, electrifying, a spark that ignites every nerve ending in your body.

You hold your breath, momentarily surprised by how right it feels—like fitting the last piece of a puzzle you didn’t even know was missing. When you pull back slightly, the look in his eyes is pure wonder, the fluttering tension replaced by something warmer and deeper. 

“Wow,” he breathes, a soft laugh escaping his lips as if he can hardly believe it just happened. The smile on his face is electric, and your heart swoops at the sight of it. “That was—”

“Really nice,” you finish for him, you still feel the imprint of his lips against yours. It surprises you how natural it felt, how right—as if you had been waiting for this moment without even knowing it.

“Definitely,” he nods, his smile only getting wider as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

You chuckle lightly, your heart still racing as the aftershocks of the kiss continue to pulse through you. You lean your shoulder against his. Steve’s arm finds its way around you, pulling you a little closer, and you feel safe, excited, and thankful that tonight is unfolding in a way you never dared hope.

The wagon lurches forward again, providing a firm reminder of the bustling festival around you. You both settle into a comfortable silence, your shoulders brushing against one another, and it feels like you’re creating your own little world away from everything.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ♡

[stayteezdreams]

More Or Less Than Friends

Plot: You and Seungmin aren't quite friends, but you're not not friends. Feelings neither of you are sure about linger under the surface. Everything changes one night when you fall asleep at his apartment.

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Gn!Reader

A/n: Prologue and Continuation of this scenario post. Section involving reader falling asleep in dorm is a slightly edited/extended version of the Scenario post drabble. A/n #2: I haaate how this ended but my brain decided to give up on me when I was almost done lol. I hope you like it anyways!

Requested By: Anon; I also just wanted to write it as well.

Warnings: Nothing I can think of :)

Words: 4,382

You had been Felix's friend for a few years before you met the others. It didn't take long before you became great friends with all of them, often spending time with them.

Well, most of them.

For some reason, unbeknownst to you, you and Seungmin never grew very close.

You could have conversations, and hang out, but never alone. It wasn't on purpose, there was just always someone else there. And it's not like he made you uncomfortable, it was the opposite actually.

You felt comfortable around him, you thought he was funny, cute and kind. He even made jokes with or about you sometimes, and it never felt rude. As if it was a gently way of getting closer to you. Though the distance never seemed to lessen between you.

After some deep thought, you were fairly sure you had a crush on him, or at least you would if you knew more about him. You wanted to be closer to him, but could never find the right moments. The two of you were never alone together, and even if you ended up beside each other, you never gave the other all of your attention. Through nerves or awkwardness you weren't really sure.

You didn't feel as though you had the right to call him a friend, and calling him and acquaintance seemed too cold. So, he was just Seungmin, the guy who had a place in your heart you couldn't quite understand.

Seungmin, though never showing it, felt exactly the same about you.

Ever since you became friends with everyone, he felt drawn to you, but always remained distant. Your presence almost comforted him, and he enjoyed seeing you. But he never showed it, barely even ever acknowledging you other than brief conversation or jokes, and he wasn't sure why.

Was he shy around you? Maybe. Did something about you make him uncomfortable? No, that's not it. He was comfortable around you, more so than he showed. He liked you. But he wasn't sure in what way.

There were times he would purposefully sit beside you, or walk near you, hoping maybe something would naturally bring you together after that. But any time the two of you almost started talking, or getting to know one another, something got in the middle. As if it wasn't meant to be.

Seungmin didn't understand what you were to him, but he wanted to figure it out.

So, he started to pay a bit more attention to you, focusing on the things you mentioned you liked and disliked. The more he did, the more he realized you two had in common. How had he not known you had the same favorite music, and shows, and books? Similar hobbies, or thoughts on the world. With every new fact he learned, the more he realized you were practically the different side of the same coin.

Was this why you never got close, yet were always comfortable around each other? You were akin to one another in more ways than he expected, was this why everyone said opposites attract? The more similar you are the more distance existed between you?

No matter how much Seungmin thought about it, the less it made sense. In his mind, he felt the two of you should be friends, maybe even best-friends, or more, yet you were....nothing? Not friends, not strangers, not even acquaintances really. You were an enigma in his life, that he truly wanted to figure out.

On days like this, what you wanted was to smile and laugh. So, you often made use of your friends for a distraction.

Your legs were heavy with the exhaustion of the day as you walked down the hall towards the boys apartments.

Knocking on Felix's apartment, you waited, but heard no answer. Pouting you pulled out your phone and texted Felix asking if he was home. Leaning against the wall, you let out a soft sigh after a few minutes. Trying the other apartment next door, and also receiving no reply you stood in the hall for a minute wondering what to do. The last thing you wanted was to head back to your own apartment. Your roommate was the last person you wanted to see.

You had no issues with each other, but she was overwhelming, especially on days like today. When nothing seemed to work out or make sense and all you wanted was to relax.

Rummaging through your bag you pulled out the spare key Felix had given you. You hesitated to go in, wondering if it might annoy them. I mean, they all said you could have it, even Seungmin gave a nod of agreement when Felix offered the key. You were at their apartments more often than not anymore anyways.

Sending the group chat a message warning them you were there, you made your way inside. You called out to see if there was indeed no one home. The apartment was silent and you made your way to the couch.

Flipping on the television you laid your head back and stared up at the ceiling. The day running through your mind again, only causing your heart to race with annoyance and stress all over again.

Groaning you looked around the apartment. Why did they all have to be gone today of all days?

Your eyes caught on a blanket on the edge of the couch. You recognized it as Seungmin's. Gently grabbing it and pulling it to you, you found yourself bringing it to your face. It smelled like Seungmin, a scent you had picked up on whenever he walked past, or sat beside you. As your heart fluttered you came back to your senses, looking around the apartment as if you might get caught. Your face was hot as you gently ran your hands over the soft fabric.

Lying down on the couch, and pulling the blanket over you. you stared at the television, not really watching, just zoning out. Having to wake up a few hours early to go to work today, your exhaustion was palpable. Slowly, you began drifting to sleep, forgetting you were trying to wait up for the boys.

When Seungmin came back from practice, the last thing he was expecting when he walked into the apartment was a guest.

His eyes landed on your familiar pair of shoes and he rose his brow in surprise, his heart palpitating. He knew he was the first one home as the others had more things to do at the studio before heading home as well.

You came and went as you please, and though Seungmin sometimes made comments as if it annoyed him, or making fun of the fact you basically live here to the others. He always liked when you were around, especially more so recently as his fondness and desire to know you grew.

Walking into the apartment, his eyes found you immediately. Seungmin seemed to forget how to breath as he saw your slumbering figure on the couch. As he watched you in silence, he was unaware of the fond smile that stretched across his face.

Softly and quietly, Seungmin set his stuff down before walking over to you. Kneeling down in front of the couch he noticed his blanket draped over your legs and his heart skipped a beat. Grabbing it, he gently adjusted the blanket so it covered more of you.

As he stared at you, he wondered why you came to the apartment when it was empty, and he couldn't help but worry something bad had happened. Wondering if the others knew you were here, he pulled out his phone, noticing a few texts to the group chat. Opening it, he saw your messages from almost an hour ago.

He felt guilty that you went unnoticed and received no replies. The way you spoke in the group chat was slightly off, making him assume he was correct. Something did happen.

Looking back at your slumbering face he let out a soft sigh. In moments like this, where Seungmin was looking at you, often when you didn't realize it, he always felt that same sense of regret. He regretted never getting closer to you.

He couldn't even call himself your friend without doubting it. But he desperately wanted to be more than whatever he was to you.

He really did admire you, he liked your presence, and your company. But he didn't acknowledge it enough. And he often wondered now, what things would be like between you if he did.

Would there be a chance to be more?

Seungmin sat on the floor by the couch for a while, keeping you company even if you weren't aware of his presence.

Suddenly hearing the sound of the others at the end of the building hall, Seungmin felt a sense of panic. He didn't want their loud voices and to wake you.

Without really thinking, he found himself scooping you gently into his arms and carrying you to his room.

Setting you down on his bed, you mumbled a bit as you readjusted. He stared at you with wide eyes for a moment before he let out a soft sigh, glad you had not fully woken.

Quickly going back out and grabbing your things from the living room as the others were unlocking the door, he escaped to his room before they entered.

Why was he being so secretive about your presence? They would eventually see your texts and wonder where you were, right? All he had to say is you were sleeping and tell them to be quiet.

Looking at you once more, now cuddling up to one of his pillows, he admitted to himself it was selfish. A selfish need to be the only one to see you like this.

As the apartment quieted down, the others escaping to their rooms, Seungmin gently settled on the bed beside you, sitting up against the headboard as he scrolled on his phone. Every once and a while he would steal a glance at you, checking to see if you were still asleep.

Eventually some of the others replied to your messages, asking when you went home. Seungmin wasn't sure if he should tell them you were asleep in his room or not. Should he just wait? Leaning his head back against the headboard as he thought about it, he fell victim to sleep before he knew it.

When you finally found yourself waking, you were confused to find yourself in a bed. Looking around in confusion, your heart jolted as you saw Seungmin beside you. His head leaned to the side as he slept.

Looking around again, you realized you were in Seungmin's room. You had never been in here before, but it was easy to see it was his, even if he wasn't beside you.

Why would he bring you in here? Had the others come back, was that why? So you didn't get woken up?

Your heart raced at the thoughts passing through your mind. Looking back over at him, you admired his sleeping face as butterflies swirled through your stomach.

Deciding he must be uncomfortable, you gently shook his shoulder, causing him to wake up. As his eyes met yours he sat upright, suddenly nervous. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, nor had he thought far enough ahead to know what to say when you woke up.

"Ah, you're awake."

You nodded as you sat up, "Did you bring me in here?"

Seungmin swallowed nervously as he nodded. "You seemed to be pretty tired and when the others came back I didn't want them to wake you."

You smiled at him and his heart flipped.

"Thank you."

"Did something happen today?"

Your heart skipped at the question. Was it obvious? You bit your lips lightly and nodded as you picked at the blanket still draped over you, "Long day."

He nodded softly, watching you. As you noticed how dark it appeared outside you sat up. "Oh... I should probably go, it looks like its pretty late."

Seungmin realized you were right, you had both slept until after sunset. He shook his head softly, speaking before really thinking.

"Its too late, you should just stay the night."

You stared at him for a second as your heart raced. "Stay...here?" He nodded silently. You added on shyly, "Would that....be okay?"

He nodded again before clearing his throat softly. "I wouldn't feel right letting you go home this late by yourself."

After a moments contemplation, you nodded. "If you're okay with it, I am."

He replied quickly, almost too quickly. "I am."

"Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

He let out a soft laugh, "No, just stay there. The bed's big enough."

The air was a little tense as the two of you settled back into the bed. You were hyper-aware of how close Seungmin was now, you were back to back, but still close. And as nervous as this made you, you still felt yourself giving into sleep again.

Seungmin's heart was beating unevenly as he lied still beside you. He was filled with a mixture of giddiness, anxiety and disbelief. How had you gone to distant friends of sorts, to sleeping in the same bed?

The silence hung in the air until you both drifted to sleep. Both of you feeling that something had changed between you suddenly. You weren't sure what yet, but you were excited to find out.

As the soft morning light peaked through the windows, you kept your eyes closed as you embraced the comfort around you. Recalling where you were, your heart raced a little as you slowly opened your eyes.

Your heart jolted as you realized you and Seungmin were now facing each other, faces only a few inches apart. His hand was gently gripped your sleeve, as if he wanted to keep you close.

You swallowed nervously as you stared at him. You had the overwhelming desire to trace your fingers along his face as he slumbered peacefully. You took a few minutes to admire him, noticing every mark and spot on his features you hadn't before.

After some time, you realized how it might seem if the others woke up and you were here. That might not be a conversation Seungmin would want to have to deal with. Plus, would things be awkward between you if he woke up and found himself latching onto you?

Slowly, and gently, you pried your sleeve from his grip and climbed out of his bed. As he moved and mumbled a few times you froze, fearing he would wake up and find you practically straddling him as you tried to get out of the bed.

Finally managing to get out of the bed without waking him, you grabbed a sticky note and pen off of is desk and wrote on it, before sticking it to the pillow beside Seungmin.

You didn't want to linger in case things got awkward, but you did want him to know how grateful you were of his kindness. Sparing one more glance at him, your heart fluttered as you grabbed your things and silently left the apartment. As you left, you knew Seungmin was going to occupy your thoughts a lot more now.

Seungmin stretched as he woke up, before he suddenly remembered your presence. His eyes shot open as he looked beside him, seeing just an empty bed. Sitting up, he felt a sense of disappointment at your absence, before his eyes spotted the sticky note.

Picking it up, he read it over a few times, a small smile growing on his face.

'I wasn't sure if I should stay or not, but I didn't want things to be awkward with the others if they saw me here still. Thank you for letting me stay and being so nice to me, after the day I had I appreciated it more than you know. I'll see you later Seungmin. - Y/n'

Looking back to wear you had been laying, he recalled waking in the middle of the night to find you facing him, the moonlight from outside illuminating you in an almost ethereal light. He couldn't stop himself from gently tracing your features with his fingers, barely brushing your skin as not to wake you. He watched you for some time, before eventually falling asleep again.

Lying back down with a sigh, he pulled the blanket you had been using over him, your scent filling his nose as he did. Pulling it closer, he inhaled the scent and felt butterflies in his stomach.

He understood now, he did have feelings for you. You weren't friends, perhaps because the feeling that had gone unnoticed stopped him. But he wanted to be closer to you now, to explore the possiblities of what you could be.

Reading over your note again he decided he would do better, do more to get closer to you.

Before you knew what to say to the others, Felix had texted you asking if you were doing alright. Seungmin had told them that you had fallen asleep at their apartment, and that he let you sleep in his room so you were disturbed by the others.

You could tell he had not told them you stayed the night, or that he had carried you to his room himself. Things you wondered if he kept a secret to spare you from possible teasing, or if he wanted it just between the two of you.

The next time you saw Seungmin was when you were invited over to their place for game-night a few days later. When you arrived, Seungmin answered the door. And instead of his usual soft smile in greeting, he grinned at you, taking your bag from you as you slipped off your shoes.

His behavior towards you was more open and bright, and obvious to not just you, but the others. He asked you if you wanted a drink, before leaving to get you one before you could even answer. You looked over and saw the guys watching in amusement as they looked at you with a questioning gaze.

You shrugged your shoulders, as your heart fluttered, wondering if he really did feel the change between you that night like you had. Maybe you hadn't imagined it at all.

Throughout the night, you and the others were confused, yet intrigued by Seungmin's behavior towards you. He sat beside you, talking to you more often and open than he ever had. He brought you food and offered you a blanket, his blanket, when he thought you might get cold.

When he went to the bathroom Han turned towards you and began interrogating you. "Are you guys dating?"

"What?" You asked startled, "No!"

"I think he wants to though." Hyunjin added with a smirk making you throw a piece of popcorn at him.

Your eyes met Felix's and he smiled brightly before he leaned closer and spoke to you, "I always thought he had a crush on you and now I know he does."

You shush them before you sat back on the couch, ignoring their teasing gazes as Seungmin came back into the room. As he sat beside you, he grabbed the blanket on you and moved to cover himself as well, covered the two of you at the same time, side by side. Your heart jolted as butterflies filled your stomach.

When it came time for you to go home, you felt nervous as Seungmin lingered by the door as you slid on your shoes. You had said goodbye to the others and grabbed your bag. Seeing Seungmin slip on his jacket you rose your brow in question. Was he going out?

He met your eyes. "I'm gonna walk you home." His tone came out as though it was obvious what he was going to do.

"O-oh, okay." You smiled, your chest fluttering anxiously.

The two of you were silent until you walked out of the apartment and made your way down the familiar street you walked dozens of times.

Seungmin inhaled the cool breeze as he walked beside you, his arm almost brushing yours as he kept very little distance between the two of you.

"Thank you for walking me home. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it." You said softly and Seungmin nodded with a smile.

"I don't have too, but I want too." He said softly, his tone almost shy.

Your eyes met for a moment before you both quickly looked away. Silence lingered between you for a few moments as you saw Seungmin steal a few quick glances at you.

Slowly, you started talking, awkward small talk turning into casual comfortable conversation. Your steps slowed as you got closer, absent-mindedly wanting your walk to last as long as you could make it.

When you finally reached your apartment, you turned to Seungmin with a kind smile. "Thanks again for walking me home. Be careful on your way back."

He nodded with a smile, "I will."

As you started to turn and walk away Seungmin quickly spoke up. "Wait!"

Turning back to him he swallowed nervously as he fidgeted. "I was wondering if you were free tomorrow."

Your heart jolted as you bit the inside of your lip and nodded. "I am."

"Its smoothie day." He noted on and you realized what he meant.

Once every other week you and a few of the others would go get smoothies at a shop you all fell in love with a couple years ago.

Seungmin rarely went, so it was a pleasant surprise he was going this time. But underneath that, there was a mild disappointment. For a moment, you thought he may be asking you on a date.

You felt a soft disappointment in your chest as you nodded, "Right! I almost forgot" You chuckled softly. "I'll be there."

He nodded "Good." As he took a a few steps back, he motioned for you to head inside as he smiled, "Goodnight."

You smiled and waved softly in return, "Goodnight Seungmin."

As you headed inside, you felt an odd mixture of emotion. Excitement, bewilderment, bashfulness, all of it making you finally truly acknowledge something you had only allowed yourself momentary thoughts of. You definitely, had feelings for Seungmin.

You hoped the others wouldn't notice or point out how you seemed to dress up a little bit more today. You accepted your feelings for Seungmin had grown, though you weren't sure what to do about it.

Though his changed behavior towards you made you think he felt the same, you still feared maybe he had just finally accepted you as a friend. So you didn't want to get your hopes up too much.

As you approached the familiar smoothie spot, your phone buzzed. Reading the message from Felix you furrowed your brow in confusion.

'Enjoy your smoothies ;)'

'Okay, so Felix isn't coming, but what's with the winky face?' You wondered as you headed inside.

Looking around, your heart fluttered as you spotted Seungmin waiting nearby at a table. Looking around more, you saw none of the others, and suddenly realized what Felix's text meant. Did they all stand you up so you'd be alone together?

Swallowing nervously you walked over to him, your stomach filling with butterflies.

Looking up, Seungmin smiled before standing up quickly and pulling a chair out for you.

You smiled in thanks as you sat down. "No one else is coming?" You asked casually, trying not to show your nervousness.

Seungmin sat down and shook his head, appearing a bit nervous as well. "I actually asked them not to come."

"Oh?" Your heart jolted as your eyes widened a bit.

He met your eyes and smiled softly, obviously nervous now. "I kind of hoped we could make this a date...if you're okay with that."

You were silent for a brief moment as you processed what he said. unable to resist smiling you nodded, "I'm okay with it."

Seungmin studied you for a second before he grinned, relief washing over him. "Good. I- I really wanted to get closer to you, I mean I have for a while, but since...since that night you fell asleep at the apartment, I uh- I feel like..." He struggled to get out what he wanted to say as he let out a soft breath.

"Something changed?"

He met your eyes, a bit startled that you understood what he was trying to say. He nodded mutely and you smiled, "I felt it too."

You smiled softly at each other for a moment before you let out a soft chuckle. "It's kind of weird right?"

He chucked as he ran his hands nervously over his legs and nodded. "Yeah. I've never really knew where we stood."

You nodded, "Right? I wasn't sure if we were friends or what, but..."

"But?"

You tried to search for the right words, "But, I always felt comfortable around you, and wanted to be friends we just never seemed to get there."

He nodded in agreement. "That's how I felt too."

You both chuckled as you both understood you had more in common than you thought.

Seungmin started, slowly. "I think... I've been attracted to you since we met. I just didn't recognize it completely. And that stopped me from really getting closer to you even though I wanted too. But that night, I finally realized just how much I want to be around you."

Your heart was pounding as he spoke, your neck and face warm. "So now, we're...what?"

He thought for a second before chuckled, "I don't really know how to label it."

You resisted giggling as you hummed, "We don't have to label anything yet, but I do like where we are headed."

He nodded slowly, "Me too."

Slowly moving his chair closer to you, he cautiously moved his hands to intertwine with yours.

"So how about we start here? We are more or less than friends, with intentions to be more."

Your eyes moved from your intertwined hands to his eyes as you smiled brightly. "How poetic." You giggled, "I like it."

He squeezed your hand softly as he grinned at you, finally relieved knowing where he wanted to go with you, and how to start.

xx End xx

General Taglist:

@otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669, @tinyelfperson,

@pinievsev, @teenyfinds, @everythingboutkpop, @shymexican, @stillwjk-channie-lixie @LuckyPainterTyphoon (cannot tag; have you confirmed your email yet?)

Stray Kids Taglist:

 @laylasbunbunny, @skz1-4-3, @prettymiye0n, @thunderous-wolf, @thedistractedwriter,

@briqnne, @dinossaurz, @staytiny2000, @msauthor, @vnessalau,

@dancinglikebutterflywings, @3rachasninja

Seungmin Taglist:

@hongjoongsprincess

-Taglist Form-

[multifandomfix]

Silence Speaks Volumes — Cersei Lannister

Summary: You’ve been quiet for as long as Cersei has known you. The other maids gossip about you. Cersei wants to get to the bottom of what keeps you so silent.

Word Count: 1,265

Warnings: Slight angst

Cersei Lannister had known you for what felt like a lifetime, yet she couldn’t remember the first time you crossed her path. It didn’t matter, really. What did matter was how you had remained a quiet, elusive figure in her castle. You were a maid, just one among many, but there was something about you that intrigued her. Something she couldn’t quite place, nor could the other maids. They whispered behind your back, calling you the “mute” as if that title alone could explain your silence.

She often heard them gossiping in the halls, their voices full of curiosity and disdain, but she never paid them much mind. Cersei wasn’t interested in the gossip of common women. But you…you were different. Even in the midst of their idle chatter, you always remained stoic and unmoved, your lips barely parting for the briefest words when required, your eyes only ever meeting the ground as you went about your work.

There was something about that quiet that gnawed at her, something compelling. It was as if you were hiding something, something from the world, from her. It wasn’t just a simple shyness or a preference for silence; no, it was something deeper. And Cersei wanted to know what it was.

It took her a while, but she eventually found a way to get closer to you. You worked usually just out of sight from the rest of the servants, far from prying eyes. And so, Cersei found herself wandering the Red Keep more often in search of you, her eyes scanning every room until they found you. When she found you, you were always the same, eyes lowered as you worked silently, never speaking to anyone unless absolutely necessary.

It was subtle at first. Cersei would linger for a few moments, watching you, observing your movements as you went about your chores. At times, she would offer small pleasantries, casual words that never seemed to elicit any response. And yet, you never ignored her. You never appeared startled by her presence. Instead, you merely acknowledged her with a brief nod or a soft glance before returning to your work.

She couldn’t help but notice that you never flinched when she spoke to you, never showed any fear of her, though many did. Your indifference, your calmness, intrigued her more than anything else. Most of the women in King’s Landing feared her, even admired her to some degree, but you seemed almost entirely unfazed by her presence.

One evening, when the light of the setting sun filtered through the tall windows, painting the room in hues of gold and amber, Cersei made her move. You were in the kitchen, kneading dough at the counter, the soft thud of your hands on the flour covered surface the only sound in the room. You didn’t notice her standing there until she spoke, her voice low and commanding.

“Why do you never speak?”

It wasn’t an accusation, nor was it meant to be a challenge. She simply wanted to understand. She knew you weren’t deaf, and you weren’t mute. You had spoken to the other servants when necessary. Yet, when it came to her, you remained silent, a stone wall of quietness.

You paused for a moment, hands still, as if considering her question. You didn’t look up, didn’t meet her gaze. And yet, she could feel your discomfort rising, the briefest flicker of something behind your eyes before it was gone again. Cersei waited, her gaze unwavering, watching you, studying you with a patience that surprised even herself.

Finally, you spoke, your voice soft and barely audible. “I don’t have anything worth saying.”

Your words were simple, but they carried a weight, a vulnerability that Cersei hadn’t expected. You weren’t a mute; you simply chose silence because you didn’t think your words mattered. Cersei felt a strange tug in her chest. It was a feeling she didn’t often allow herself to acknowledge.

She took a step closer, her heels clicking sharply on the stone floor, a sound that seemed to resonate in the otherwise quiet room.

“That’s not true,” Cersei said, her tone more tender than she intended. “Everyone has something worth saying.” It was a true enough statement, even if it were the case that she didn’t much care for many things that were said by others, they still held a certain kind of importance to them.

You finally looked up at her, your eyes briefly meeting hers before dropping again, a silent apology in your gaze. Cersei couldn’t help but notice how your lips trembled, as if you were on the verge of saying more. But you didn’t. Instead, you returned to your dough, as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t just chipped away at the wall you’d built around yourself.

Cersei watched you for a moment longer before turning to leave, but then, she stopped herself. She couldn’t walk away just yet. She was too close now, and something within her urged her to push further, to know the full truth of your silence.

“I don’t believe you,” she said quietly, not wishing to frighten you, to scare you off from ever uttering a word again, at least not until she heard what she wanted from you. “You may not speak much, but that doesn’t mean you have nothing of value to say.”

You flinched slightly, and for the briefest moment, Cersei saw something in your eyes, something raw, something untamed. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced with the same guarded expression you always wore. You continued working, but Cersei could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy between the two of you.

“I…I don’t want to trouble anyone,” you whispered, so quietly she barely heard the words. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

Cersei’s heart stilled at the faint sadness in your voice. Something inside her shifted. She was accustomed to people hiding their emotions, but this felt different. This felt like something she could understand, something that resonated with her own unspoken pain.

She stepped closer to you, her hand gently resting on your arm. “You’re not troubling anyone, not me. If you want to speak, you can.”

For the first time in a long while, you met her gaze, your eyes wide, and in them, Cersei saw something she hadn’t expected. There was a softness there, an openness that had been buried beneath layers of silence and restraint.

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out.

“I…I care for you,” you whispered, your voice shaking with the weight of the confession. “I’ve always cared for you.”

The silence that followed felt deafening. You froze, your hands trembling as you realized what you had just said. Cersei, too, stood still, her heart thundering in her chest, but for reasons she couldn’t understand. She had expected many things, but not this. Never this.

Your face flushed a deep red, and you immediately lowered your gaze, ashamed of your confession. But Cersei didn’t look away. She didn’t retreat.

Instead, she gently cupped your chin, tilting your face so that your eyes met hers once more. There was something different in her gaze now, something softer.

“You need not be ashamed,” she murmured, her voice low and sincere. “You are not the only one who has hidden feelings.”

In that moment, with those words, you realized that your silence had held far more than just words. It had held everything you had been too afraid to speak aloud. And for the first time, Cersei Lannister listened.

For @luv-tegan-07

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @trexsuit, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Cersei Lannister: @riveranddoctorsong123, @yreat, @hc-geralt-23, @floresferae, @geekyandgay98, @lady-darkswan3, @abitchnamedtia, @witchthewriter, @lannister-apologist

[pdriesta]

a love like this — 6

an — a series of blurbs based on the main couple of "something real". if you're someone that read it, let me know if you have requests <3 this chapter is based on this request, i hope you enjoy!

masterlist

it started with the little things.

the way she moved a fraction slower in the mornings, her usually sharp replies softened with an edge of fatigue. the way her hands—steady, sure hands that were always so careful, so gentle when treating him or any other player—would tremble slightly as she reached for her coffee cup. jude noticed it all, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer every time, concern gnawing at his chest as he tried to piece together what was wrong.

“late night?” he’d asked casually one morning, leaning against the kitchen counter as she rushed around the kitchen, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“something like that,” y/n had replied, flashing him a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “busy week, you know.”

he’d hummed, watching as she downed her coffee in record time before darting out the door with a hasty kiss to his cheek and a promise to text him later. jude stayed in the kitchen long after she left, the unease in his chest growing stronger. she was always busy, always pushing herself, but lately… lately it felt like too much.

it wasn’t just at home. he saw it at work, too—how she threw herself into every session, every treatment, working longer hours than anyone else, her focus unwavering even as exhaustion tugged at her features. when she was with the players, she was a force of nature, a whirlwind of energy and expertise, and yet… the moment she thought no one was looking, her shoulders would droop, and her smile would falter.

jude caught those moments. every single one. and each time, it made his chest tighten with guilt.

because he knew—he knew that she gave everything she had to her job, to the players, to him. she poured herself into every role she took on, leaving nothing for herself. and now, it was starting to show. he hated it. hated that she felt like she had to push herself so hard, that she wouldn’t slow down even when her body was clearly screaming for rest.

“you’re worrying too much,” she’d said one evening when he brought it up again, her voice gentle but firm as she rubbed soothing circles on his chest. they were curled up on the couch, the soft glow of the living room lights casting warm shadows across her face.

“i just don’t want you running yourself ragged,” he murmured, his fingers tracing absent patterns on her back. “you’ve been working so hard, y/n. you’re exhausted.”

“i’m fine,” she’d insisted, smiling up at him with that same, tired smile. “really, jude. it’s just a busy period. things will calm down soon.”

it didn’t get better.

even though she swore it would calm down, it didn’t. if anything, things got worse. more injuries, more stress, and more hours piled on her already overflowing plate. jude tried to help where he could—making her breakfast, bringing her coffee, even sneaking into her office to leave little notes of encouragement for her to find. but it never felt like enough. not when she was still coming home late, eyes dull and movements sluggish.

it wasn’t until a few days later, when he found her in the treatment room, that everything came to a head.

“y/n,” he called softly, knocking lightly on the open door. she was hunched over a table, scribbling something on a clipboard, and she didn’t look up as he entered. “hey, baby.”

“mm,” she hummed, barely acknowledging him.

his frown deepened, and he crossed the room, stopping a few feet behind her. “you okay?”

“fine,” she murmured, her voice strained. she didn’t turn around, didn’t even lift her head, and that’s when he noticed the slight tremble in her shoulders, the way her breathing seemed just a little too labored.

“y/n,” he said again, softer this time, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder. she flinched, the movement almost imperceptible, and his heart dropped.

“jude, please,” she mumbled, still not looking at him. “i’m fine. i just—i need to finish this.”

“no, you don’t,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to her arm, gently tugging her back. “come on, love. look at me.”

she resisted at first, her body stiff and unyielding, but then—slowly, reluctantly—she turned. jude’s breath caught in his throat.

she looked awful. pale, her skin tinged with an unhealthy sheen, her eyes glassy and unfocused. there were deep shadows under her eyes, and her lips were chapped, a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively woman he was so used to.

“y/n,” he breathed, stepping closer. “you’re sick.”

“no, i’m not,” she muttered, her gaze darting away. “i don’t get sick.”

“bullshit,” he said softly, his hand cupping her cheek, feeling the warmth of a fever that was definitely not supposed to be there. “you’re burning up.”

“jude, i—”

“why didn’t you say anything?” he asked quietly, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “you’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and now—”

“i couldn’t,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “there’s too much to do. the players—”

“the players can wait,” he said firmly, his gaze intense as he stared down at her. “you need to rest.”

“i’m fine,” she insisted, but even as she said it, her knees wobbled, and jude had to catch her, his arms wrapping around her waist as she slumped against him.

“no, you’re not,” he murmured, his voice soft but unyielding. “you’re not fine, y/n. and you’re not going back to work like this.”

“but—”

“no buts,” he said quietly, his arms tightening around her. “you’re coming home, and you’re going to rest. no more overtime, no more late nights. you need to take care of yourself, love.”

she opened her mouth to argue, but the exhaustion in her eyes spoke louder than any words could. with a soft sigh, she let her head fall against his chest, her body going limp in his arms.

“i’m just… tired,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“i know, baby,” he murmured, his hand cradling the back of her head as he pressed a kiss to her hair. “i know. but you don’t have to do this alone, okay? let me take care of you.”

and that’s exactly what he did.

he bundled her up, supporting her weight as he guided her to the car, his heart aching at how fragile she seemed, how small she felt in his arms. when they got home, he didn’t let her lift a finger—he tucked her into bed, brought her water, and fussed over her like she was made of glass.

“you’re being ridiculous,” she mumbled, a faint smile tugging at her lips as he hovered by the bedside, making sure she was comfortable.

“maybe,” he admitted, kneeling beside her so they were at eye level. “but you need this, y/n. you need to rest and recover.”

“you sound like me,” she teased weakly, her hand reaching out to brush his cheek. “always nagging.”

“well, i’ve learned from the best,” he murmured, catching her hand in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “so no more overtime, okay?”

“okay,” she whispered, her eyes already drifting shut. “no more… overtime.”

“good,” he breathed, his gaze soft as he watched her fall asleep. “because i need you, love. i need you healthy and happy. and i can’t lose you to exhaustion.”

it wasn’t until she was sound asleep, her breathing finally evening out, that jude allowed himself to relax. he stayed by her side the entire night, watching over her, his heart heavy with worry and love.

she’d always been the one to take care of him. but now? now it was his turn.

and he’d be damned if he let her burn herself out again.

by the end of the week, it all came crashing down.

the first sign was the alarm. the shrill beeping shattered the early morning quiet, but instead of y/n’s usual groan and sluggish movements to silence it, there was… nothing. no sleepy mumbles, no irritated grumbling as she fumbled for her phone. just stillness.

jude blinked, disoriented by the unfamiliar sound, his arm still curled protectively around her waist. “y/n?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep as he shifted beside her. but she didn’t stir.

the alarm kept blaring, louder and more insistent. jude reached over her, grabbing the phone off her nightstand to silence it. the sudden quiet felt jarring, like a weight pressing down on his chest. he turned to look at her, heart beating faster.

“y/n,” he whispered again, his hand brushing over her arm, shaking her gently. “baby, it’s morning.”

still nothing.

a ripple of unease washed over him as he sat up, his gaze sweeping over her. her usually vibrant face was pale, flushed slightly at the cheeks, dark circles bruising the delicate skin under her eyes. her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. she was limp against the mattress, barely moving except for the shallow rise and fall of her chest. jude’s worry deepened, his throat tightening.

“y/n,” he called softly, more urgently this time, cupping her cheek. “hey… wake up.”

her body responded with a soft, pitiful groan, but her eyes didn’t open. her hand twitched, fingers curling weakly into the sheets, but it was clear she didn’t have the energy to move. jude’s heart twisted painfully.

“baby, come on,” he murmured, his thumb tracing circles along her cheekbone. “you’ve got to get up.”

“i can’t” she mumbled, her voice so faint, he had to strain to hear it. “jus’… so tired…”

his frown deepened, eyes scanning her face. the exhaustion in her voice, the complete lack of energy — it was unlike anything he’d seen from her before. she was always the one up and ready before him, even on her most stressful days. seeing her like this made a knot form in his chest, one that wouldn’t loosen.

“you don’t have to get up,” he murmured, shifting closer, one hand cradling the back of her neck. “it’s okay, love. you’re not going anywhere today.”

“but… work,” she whispered, her brow furrowing, though her eyes remained closed. “i can’t… i have to go…”

“no, you don’t,” jude said firmly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering. her skin was far too warm, almost feverish. “you’re staying here. i’ll call in for you. you’re not working like this.”

“jude… no… i can’t…” she tried to protest, but the fight was weak, her voice barely audible.

“yes, you can,” he countered gently, his heart aching at how fragile she seemed. “you’re not well, y/n. you’ve been working nonstop, and now look at you.”

she opened her mouth as if to argue, but no words came. instead, she just sighed, sinking further into the bed, as if the very act of talking was too much for her now. “’kay…”

jude exhaled, his chest loosening only a fraction. “good,” he whispered, brushing his fingers through her hair. “just rest now. i’ve got you.”

he stayed beside her, his body curled around hers protectively, one arm draped over her as if to shield her from the weight of the world. his fingers traced soothing patterns along her arm, the only sound in the room her labored breathing. it was too quiet, too still, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to move. something told him he needed to be here, that she needed him close, even if she didn’t say it.

for hours, jude didn’t budge. his phone buzzed on the nightstand — messages, reminders, calls that went unanswered — but none of it mattered. all that mattered was her.

by the time afternoon light spilled through the curtains, she stirred again, her eyelids fluttering open just a sliver. jude’s heart leapt in his chest, immediately leaning closer.

“hey,” he whispered, brushing a stray curl away from her face. “you awake?”

y/n blinked, her eyes glazed with fatigue. she looked confused, disoriented, as though she couldn’t quite piece together where she was. “jude?” her voice was hoarse, barely more than a croak.

“i’m here,” he murmured, thumb tracing along her temple, his touch soft and careful. “how are you feeling?”

her face crumpled slightly as she exhaled a long, strained breath. “terrible,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “i don’t think… i can get up.”

“you don’t have to,” jude assured her quickly, his hand slipping down to hold hers. “you’re staying right here.”

“but… work…” her brow furrowed again, but even the thought of it seemed to exhaust her.

“no, y/n,” jude said firmly, his gaze locking with hers. “you’re not going to work. not today, not tomorrow, not until you’re better. that’s final.”

she stared at him, her lip quivering as tears welled up in her eyes. “i… i didn’t mean for this to happen,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “i just wanted to be strong.”

jude’s chest tightened painfully at the sight of her so vulnerable, so utterly drained. he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, his thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down her cheek. “you are strong, y/n. you’re the strongest person i know. but even you need rest. and that’s okay.”

her eyes fluttered shut, more tears spilling over as she exhaled shakily. “i’m sorry,” she whispered.

“hey, no,” jude murmured, his hand cupping her face. “don’t apologize. this isn’t your fault. you just pushed yourself too far.”

she nodded weakly, the last of her energy fading as she sank into the comfort of his touch, her breathing evening out once more.

jude held her close, his heart aching as he watched her drift back into sleep. he wouldn’t let this happen again — he’d take care of her, just as she always took care of everyone else. nothing mattered more to him than making sure she was okay. not a single thing.

jude held her close, his heart aching as he watched her drift back into sleep. he wouldn’t let this happen again — he’d take care of her, just as she always took care of everyone else. nothing mattered more to him than making sure she was okay. not a single thing.

with a soft sigh, he gently untangled himself from her, careful not to wake her as he slipped out of bed. her exhaustion was palpable, and he wanted to do everything he could to help her unwind. padding quietly to the bathroom, he started running a warm bath, the scent of lavender and vanilla filling the air as bubbles formed under the gentle stream.

once the tub was ready, he returned to the bedroom, carefully scooping her up into his arms. “baby, come on,” he whispered softly, his lips brushing against her temple. “let me take care of you, yeah?”

y/n murmured something incoherent, too tired to fully respond, but she didn’t resist as he carried her to the bathroom. jude settled her onto the edge of the tub, his hands working with care to peel off her clothes, making sure she didn’t have to lift a finger.

“just relax,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before helping her sink into the warm water. “i’ve got you, baby. everything’s okay.”

the sound of gentle splashing filled the small bathroom as jude leaned over the tub, his hands moving slowly through the soapy water. y/n lay back, eyes closed, exhaustion lining every inch of her face, and he was careful not to disturb her too much. just enough to ease some of the tension from her tired muscles.

“you’re doing so well,” he murmured, his fingers moving in slow, soothing circles over her shoulders. “just let me take care of you, love.”

she hummed softly, her head lolling to the side as she surrendered to the warmth of the bath and the gentleness of his touch. jude’s heart ached seeing her like this, knowing how much she always gave to everyone else, how little she left for herself.

“you work too hard, you know that?” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her damp forehead. “you need to rest more. i need you to rest more.”

“mm... ‘m fine,” she mumbled, barely coherent.

jude smiled softly, shaking his head. “no, baby, you’re not. but that’s okay. i’m here now, and you don’t have to do anything but relax.”

his hands slid down her arms, gentle and comforting, as he whispered more loving things to her. “you’re everything to me,” he breathed, watching her settle further into the water. “and i’m gonna take care of you. always.”

the bathwater sloshed softly as he continued to massage her shoulders, his touch light but firm, soothing her tired muscles. he watched as the tension slowly ebbed away, her body going limp in the water as she sank deeper into the tub, trusting him completely.

the sound of gentle splashing filled the small bathroom as jude leaned over the tub, his hands moving slowly through the soapy water. y/n lay back, eyes closed, exhaustion lining every inch of her face, and he was careful not to disturb her too much. just enough to ease some of the tension from her tired muscles.

she hadn’t stirred much when he’d carried her from the bed to the bathroom, too drained even to put up the token protest he’d half-expected. the only thing she’d managed was a small, sleepy murmur of confusion as he’d undressed her and lowered her carefully into the warm water.

“just relax, love,” he whispered softly, his fingers brushing along her arm in a soothing rhythm. “i’ve got you.”

she sighed, a soft, contented sound that tugged at his heart. her head rested against the edge of the tub, her skin flushed from the heat of the bath, and jude took his time, letting the moments stretch between them. he ran the washcloth gently over her shoulders, down her back, careful not to startle her as he moved.

“this… is nice,” she mumbled, her eyes still shut, lips barely moving.

“yeah?” he asked softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “not too much?”

“no… it’s good,” she breathed, the words slurring slightly. “feels… good.”

jude’s chest tightened. god, how long had it been since she’d let herself rest like this? to just let go and let someone else take care of her?

“good,” he murmured, his voice low and tender as he dipped the cloth into the water again, wringing it out slowly. “you deserve it.”

she didn’t respond, but a soft, sleepy hum slipped past her lips, and he knew she’d heard him. he stayed like that for a while longer, just letting the warmth of the bath work its magic, his touch light and careful as he washed away the stress and fatigue that seemed etched into her skin.

jude watched as y/n settled deeper into the warm bath, her exhaustion melting away with each gentle ripple of water. sensing that she was finally beginning to relax, he quietly stepped out of the bathroom, his mind racing with thoughts of how to help her recover. without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to y/n’s mom.

hi, auntie! y/n isn't feeling well. i'm really worried for her

but jude knew y/n’s mom too well to think that would stop her. within minutes, her reply came through, filled with warmth and concern. “don’t worry, mi niño! i’m on my way.”

just as he was finishing up in the kitchen, he heard the familiar sound of her mother’s voice echoing through the flat. “jude! where is my daughter?” her commanding presence filled the space, making him smile despite the situation.

“in the bathroom,” he called back, meeting her in the hallway. he gestured for her to follow him, but before he could explain further, she was already striding past him with purpose.

when she entered the bathroom, she immediately knelt beside the tub, her expression shifting from concern to tenderness as she brushed a gentle hand over y/n’s hair. “mi niña,” (my daughter) she whispered, her voice filled with love.

“auntie, she’s just exhausted,” jude said softly, leaning against the doorframe, feeling both grateful and slightly overwhelmed by her presence.

"mi rabajadora incansable,” y/n’s mom replied, shaking her head with a knowing smile. (my tireless worker) “when she was in school, she would spend all night in the library, never taking time for herself. always wanting to make the most of her time.” her gaze turned serious as she looked up at jude. “but she forgets to care for herself in the process. it’s not good.”

jude nodded, feeling a swell of protectiveness for y/n. “i’m trying to help her rest, auntie. i really am. she just… she pushes herself.”

“you’re doing a good job, jude,” her mother said, her voice warm and reassuring. “but make sure you’re keeping her fed. i’ll stock the fridge with meals and remedies. she needs nourishment, and she’ll listen to you.”

“i’ll make sure she eats,” jude promised, his heart feeling lighter with each word. “thank you for coming. it means a lot to both of us.”

“just doing my job as a mother,” she said with a soft smile, then added, “you know, when she was little, she always wanted to be a superhero, saving everyone. i think that’s still in her heart. she feels responsible for everyone around her.”

“she is a superhero,” jude replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “but even superheroes need a break. i just want her to know that it’s okay to slow down, that she doesn’t have to carry the weight of the world alone.”

her mother nodded, her eyes glistening with pride. “that’s exactly what she needs, jude. someone who understands her, who can remind her that it’s okay to be vulnerable. you’re doing that for her. you’re making a difference.”

“i just want to protect her,” jude admitted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “i can’t stand seeing her like this. it breaks my heart.”

“you’re doing a wonderful job,” her mother assured him, a gentle hand resting on his arm. “just remind her how loved she is. remind her that she’s not alone in this. it’s important.”

jude nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “i will. i promise.”

“and keep practicing your spanish,” she said with a playful grin. “she loves it when you try.”

“i will, auntie” jude replied with a chuckle. “i’ll keep working on it.”

“good,” y/n’s mom said, her smile warm as she turned to gather her things. “now, let me run to the kitchen and prepare some meals for you both. you keep an eye on her. i don’t want to see her until she’s feeling better. she needs to rest.”

“understood,” jude said, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched her leave the bathroom, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

once y/n’s mom was gone, jude returned to sit beside the tub, his eyes fixed on her as the water rippled gently around her. he leaned closer, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face, his heart swelling with affection as he watched her. he thought of what her mom had said, the glimpse he’d gotten into y/n’s past. it was bittersweet learning how she’d always been this way—always pushing, always working. and it only fueled his desire to protect her even more.

as the minutes ticked by, he stayed there, watching her, his hand wrapped around hers gently as the water slowly began to cool. the soft sound of her breathing calmed him, a reminder that she was there, safe, but exhausted beyond measure. he never wanted her to feel the need to push herself this hard again. not when she had him now. not when he’d do anything to carry some of the weight she bore so quietly.

when the water turned tepid, he knew it was time. leaning over, jude whispered gently, "hey, baby… let’s get you out." her eyes fluttered open slightly, barely conscious, and she gave a small, sleepy nod. jude carefully stood, reaching for the towel. he wrapped it around her, his hands tender as he lifted her from the bath, cradling her in his arms. "i’ve got you," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her damp temple. "i’m here."

he held her close, feeling how limp she was, her head resting on his shoulder, utterly drained. slowly, he carried her into the bedroom, placing her down on the edge of the bed before carefully drying her off. he moved with such care, not wanting to disturb her as he slipped her into one of his oversized shirts, the fabric soft against her skin. "you’re so strong," he whispered, his fingers grazing her cheek. "but you don’t have to be strong all the time."

she barely stirred, but he caught the way her lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile at his words. it made his heart ache and swell all at once.

once she was dressed, jude scooped her back into his arms, her body curling instinctively against him. "let’s go to the living room, yeah?" he murmured. she didn’t answer, just nuzzled further into his chest. he carried her with ease, feeling her weight settle into him, trusting him completely. when they reached the couch, he sat down, pulling her into his lap, her head resting against his chest.

for a while, they stayed like that, her quiet breaths filling the space. he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let go of her even for a second. but when he shifted slightly, preparing to get up, y/n whined softly, her fingers clutching at his shirt.

"shh, i’m right here," jude soothed, kissing the top of her head. "just going to get you something to eat."

"don’t go," she mumbled, sounding so unlike herself—so clingy and vulnerable. it broke his heart. he’d never seen her like this before, and it killed him that it took her being so worn down for him to see it.

"i’m not going far, promise," he assured her, stroking her back gently. "i’ll be back before you even miss me."

reluctantly, she let him go, and jude slipped into the kitchen, reheating the soup her mom had brought over. he moved quickly, not wanting to leave her alone for too long, and once the soup was ready, he returned to the couch, sitting beside her once more.

"baby," jude whispered, holding out the bowl of soup. "you need to eat."

y/n blinked, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion. she allowed jude to feed her a spoonful of the warm broth, and the second it hit her tongue, something familiar made her pause. her brow furrowed as she swallowed, looking up at him with tired confusion.

"wait…" she mumbled softly, her voice weak. "this… this is my mom’s soup."

jude nodded, his heart squeezing at the realization dawning on her. "yeah, love. she came by earlier while you were resting. stocked the fridge, left a bunch of meals for you."

her eyes widened slightly, tears welling up before spilling over. "she came?" her voice cracked, overwhelmed with emotion. she hadn’t even realized, too deep in her exhaustion to notice.

"she did," jude said softly, wiping her tears away with his thumb as they slid down her cheeks. "she loves you so much, y/n. and she told me you’ve always been like this… working yourself too hard, forgetting to take care of yourself. she’s worried. we all are."

y/n sniffled, overwhelmed by the love surrounding her, but jude wasn’t done. he set the bowl down gently and cupped her face in his hands, his voice tender but firm. "you don’t have to do it all, baby. you don’t have to carry everything by yourself. let us help. let me help. you’re so loved, y/n. and you need to let the people who love you share the load when it gets too heavy. especially me."

his words broke through her defenses, and she sobbed softly, leaning into his touch, overwhelmed but comforted by the realization that she didn’t have to do everything alone. she never had to, not when jude was by her side.

"i’m here," he whispered, pulling her into his arms, cradling her against him as she cried. "i’ll always be here. let's eat some more soup, okay?"

y/n shook her head with as much strength she has left, "jude, i can't. 'm tired"

“i know, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low murmur as he dipped the spoon into the soup, bringing it carefully to her lips. “but just a few bites, yeah? for me?”

her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy, dazed look in them as she blinked up at him. “for you?” she echoed weakly, her voice hoarse and fragile.

“yeah,” he whispered, his gaze soft and unwavering as he held the spoon to her lips. “just a little. and then you can sleep again.”

she hesitated, then nodded slowly, parting her lips just enough for him to slip the spoon inside. the soup was warm, the rich, comforting flavors washing over her tongue, and a tiny, relieved sigh slipped past her lips.

“good girl,” he murmured softly, his heart swelling at the way she relaxed against him, her body melting further into his chest. “just a little more, okay?”

she ate slowly, her movements sluggish and clumsy, but jude was patient, his hand steady as he fed her each spoonful, murmuring soft words of encouragement between bites.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. “just a few more. that’s it. you’re so strong.”

by the time the bowl was empty, she was barely awake, her head drooping against his shoulder, her breaths soft and even. jude set the bowl aside carefully, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

“see?” he murmured softly, his lips brushing against her hair. “you did it.”

“’m sleepy,” she mumbled again, her voice a sleepy murmur against his chest.

“i know,” he whispered, his gaze tender as he held her close, his heart aching with a fierce, protective love. “but you’ll get better, baby. you just need to rest.”

she didn’t respond, already slipping back into the warm, comforting embrace of sleep. jude stayed like that for a long time, just holding her, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along her back, his heart swelling with every soft, even breath she took.

“no more overtime,” he murmured quietly, his voice barely more than a breath. “no more pushing yourself like this.”

she shifted slightly, a small, contented sigh slipping past her lips, and jude’s heart clenched painfully.

“you’re going to get better, y/n,” he whispered, his gaze fierce and unwavering as he held her close. “and i’m going to make sure of it.”

because he couldn’t bear to see her like this—not ever again.

no more overtime. no more pushing herself past her limits.

this time, he’d make sure of it.

next

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 1

Ghost x Reader x Konig

(Neighbour!au and Roommate!au cause I can't get enough of them hehe)

Also like for this fic just don't mind how this would actually never happen in real life + don't think too much about the logic in this story. It's all purely fictional and for your entertainment :)

You want to go home.

Your apartment keys jingle as they hang from your fingers. Room 409. You sigh. It’s been a long day, to say the least. All you want to do is to just relax and unwind like you would any other Friday with a glass of wine and that dumpster fire of a Netflix show that is ‘Emily in Paris’. You let out another long sigh waiting for the elevator to reach the lobby. At least Emily lives a much more exciting and drama-filled life than you did with your 9 to 5 job.

You stare at your feet, trying to find something to pass the time that seems to drag on for forever. Your feet are already killing you from your high heels that you’ve been wearing for over 9 hours. Usually, you would be home by 7 — it’s 11 — especially on a Friday. Laura, a close coworker of yours went on pregnancy leave, meaning you’re working more hours to cover her absence.

Your phone buzzes with a reminder from your calendar app — oh great, it’s already 12. ‘RENT PAYMENT DUE IN A WEEK.’ You haven’t found a roommate to occupy that extra bedroom in your apartment even after 2 months of your listing being put online. Granted, you should’ve started looking for a new roommate the moment your previous one told you they were moving out, but you were too busy for that! You tap your foot impatiently. How long does it take for an elevator to travel up 2 floors from the carpark to the lobby?

The elevator doors open with a ‘ding!’ and you’re met with the giant of a man that is this mysterious guy wearing all black. His brown hair and matching brown eyes make him dashing and the scars littering on his face adds on to his good looks somehow. “’s rude to stare, love.” His gruff voice snaps you out of it. “R-right, sorry.” To say he was intimidating was an understatement, but god was he good looking.

When you’re both in the elevator, the usual smell of the clean, bleached scent is replaced with the smell of cigarettes and an undertone of gunpowder? Whatever it is, you much prefer it over the smell of bleach you’ve been used to for months. The elevator ride is silent and you both get off the same floor to go our separate ways… except he was following you!

You get a little bit nervous as anyone would if a tall, maybe 190cm buff guy was following you a few steps behind. “What apartment you in?” You say with panic filling your body with each step. Oh god, you don’t wanna die yet! “410.” He responds. “Oh.” Well, that makes more sense.

“I’m your neighbor then! Nice to meet you.” You smile and introduce yourself. He hums in response. “Simon Riley.” He says, nodding at you in acknowledgement. You would like to chat with this guy more, but he doesn’t strike you as talkative, as if his short replies didn’t already tell you that.

You both turn the locks on your own apartment doors. “Next time, you should really run if you think you’re in danger.” He chuckles a little to himself. You turn to look at him in shock, only to find he’s already disappeared into his apartment. So he did know! Asshole. You shake your head and enter your own apartment.

After showering, you scroll your phone on Instagram mindlessly when a notification pops up on your phone. Oh my god, someone responded to your listing! You waste no time in responding to them, despite it being ass-o-clock. You arrange to meet up with them in the afternoon, and you head to sleep hoping whoever this guy is will be a good roommate for you.

When you wake up, you’re a little behind schedule. Scrap that, VERY behind schedule. You haven’t cleaned up the apartment and made it presentable to your possible roommate yet, and you’re gonna meet him in 20 minutes downstairs! You hurriedly stuff all the clothes you find lying around in the living room into your own bedroom and clean the kitchen counters — you know the drill.

As soon as you’re done arranging the last piece of furniture in the living room, you rush out of the door, bumping into that neighbor you met last night. You give him a quick, “Morning, Simon!” before rushing past him, not even giving him time to greet you back.

Somehow by the grace of god, you’re right on time to meet the guy. You agree to meet him at the café right across your apartment complex, and holy fuck. There’s no way this 2 meter guy is your roommate. You both stare at each other awkwardly before you decide to go up to him. “Konig?” I say, and he nods. Oh he is.

[ladyofthebookcase]

i need to yap about cultural nudity in nine sols NOW. context for new followers is that i watched kill la kill this summer and really enjoyed it and the commentary it made on nudity and the desexualization of the naked body. not sure how i want to structure this so i'll just kind of block it out based on the three main characters that are relevant to this. also when i say "the text" i mean the game of nine sols as a piece of media, like how english majors would refer to the book or movie they're studying. im not an english major but i could be.

goumang: my initial reaction to seeing her was to be like "huh she's not wearing any pants that's weird", followed by "well that's probably normal for solarians, they're cat people after all so it's probably less of a big deal in their culture" and then i just didn't care about it for like the rest of the game until i replayed it and got to her again and went "oh that's right, no one else has their pussy out like that. i guess that's just a goumang thing?" and, while i think it IS probably just a goumang thing to some extent (see the post about her being pussy out because of furgonomics basically/it's comfortable for her bird legs), an interesting thing to note here is yi's complete lack of reaction to it. goumang doesn't interact with any other characters in this outfit (the jiangshi don't count cus they can say like 2 words ok), and it could be argued that yi simply has bigger priorities/is not into women, but i do think it's notable nonetheless that literally zero acknowledgement is made to the fact that goumang is just walking around pussy out. not even non-diagetic elements interact with that at all; she's never censored in her manga cutscenes or posed in a way that either hides or exposes her. what this means is that her nudity isn't really treated like nudity. the text completely ignores it! now, we also know from a dev comment that solarians are matriarchal, which i think definitely ties into the different treatment of goumang and jiequan in this regard (i.e. why he's censored and she's not, from an in-world perspective, probably is similar to the way "women's" chests are censored in our world, although non-diagetically we know why he's censored lmao.)

jiequan: ok hmm. i'm no jiegolar, so i'm open to input on this one, but the element here i find significant is that jiequan is seen interacting with another person (aside from yi) while being naked. the fact that ji is hidden behind a screen is most likely just to obscure their identity (specifically his tall form) from the viewer, since they don't seem to have a problem also going around essentially pussy out the entire game; this is to say, it's not because jiequan is naked. i will say that the jiequan naked scenes have quite a different Vibe than the goumang and lady e scenes (no seriouesly why is that one cutscene so sexually charged help) but i think it's reasonable to chalk that up to 1) jiequan is a freak and 2) he's obsessed with yi so that changes the overall vibe of their interactions as opposed to, say, goumang. yeah i don't really know what i'm saying on this topic i don't have enough jiequan brainrot experience for this really. it does kind of give the vibe of like an emperor chilling in the nude in his palace and he's allowed to do that because he's the emperor though.

hm. yeah let's move onto something i've thought a bit more about.

lady ethereal: now THIS is really interesting to me for a few reasons, the first of which being that yeah, she's hot, and the game treats her as such! and yet at the same time it doesn't oversexualise her, or portray her as attractive at the expense of her personality. in fact, once again yi makes zero acknowledgement of her nudity-- his focus is on her, and that something strange is happening to her. yi also shows no discomfort or shame about entering the hot spring-- there's no "wait, you want me to get naked?!?!?!" moment that some media might have had, and i think that's really good not only because im a sucker for different cultural and hypothetical-cultural interpretations of nonsexual nudity, but also because a moment like that would have been cheesy and annoying and made the scene less serious. the focus of that scene ISN'T that the hot lynx woman is hot, it's that there is something mentally wrong with the hot lynx woman. the fact that these scenes take place at a hot spring without the text ever interacting with the nudity of the characters is to me a really strong argument for the idea that nudity is fairly normal and definitely not inherently sexual for solarians. the idea that it is inherently sexual is a very historically recent and western thing anyway and maybe i just haven't consumed enough media where it's not portrayed that way but i found this portrayal really refreshing ESPECIALLY WHEN ITS WOMEN ok this isn't even in a gay way i literally don't care about bodies like that. i dont having sex. i just think it's really really refreshing and nice for women to be, like, able to have these kind of scenes and character moments without the text reducing the entire scene to "ohh look boobies lol". without them being censored or hypersexualised or made into a joke. rips off shirt to reveal a tattoo on my bare chest that says "I FEEL STRONGLY ABOUT AFAB BODIES BEING TREATED LIKE THEY'RE INHERENTLY SEXUAL AND THE STRONG EMOTION I FEEL ABOUT THIS IS THAT IT FUCKING SUCKS". thank you for reading my essay.

[windser]

conflicted contrast (3/?)

pairing: mc x sylus (soulmate!au) wc: 1.6k+ rating: t

a/n: i have so many drafted ideas for this and few other sylus dynamics. but here is a direct continuation from this work! i doubt future additions will remain linear, ill probably just bounce around scenes but i love them a lot already!! honestly, feel free to send questions or specific requests about this dynamic to help me explore more

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄

'sorry, I'm not into subs.'

it's probably not your shining moment, especially not with your supervisor less than half a foot away. there is a cough from your right, definitely from the officer trying to reign in his reaction.

yet, the leader of onichynus—your soulmate—finds humor in it all. his laugh, strong but low, isn't as shocking as deep-bellied amusement, but it may as well have been, given the guard's surprised reaction. apparently, outside of his request to see you, this man had given them nothing.

this man who—

"sylus."

you look up, your eyes having subtly mapped out his body in curiosity about where such a phrase could be etched. it obviously wasn't as prominent as yours.

he waits until your eyes meet. "my name," he says, as if reading your thoughts. a hint of a smile curls his lips. "as for my mark, perhaps that's a show for private times. but I assure you, i have been waiting for those words for a long, long time."

and you understand because even when you had given up, you too had played the waiting game, always wanting to at least know what the words 'you're beautiful' sounded like on fated lips.

but now...

well, there wasn't much left to this story. your soulmate was a criminal captured by the UNICORNS organization, and that was the end of it.

this moment was likely the most private and last opportunity the two of you would have together. and it wouldn't even be just the two of you, as the other two parties in the room were likely desperate to use this chance to get what they wanted from him.

you were just a proxy.

akey to his lips.

"sylus, are you indeed the leader of the illegal organization onichynus?"

despite the words leaving jenna's mouth, sylus's gaze never leaves yours.

"is that what you really want to know?"

the sigh that escapes your lips is heavy, carrying the weight of how difficult he plans to make this for everyone involved. shifting your weight to one foot, you meet him with an equally measured look.

"do you need my permission to speak to others?"

his answering grin tells you everything you need to know and opens the abyss to more inquiries you didn't realize you had an itch to know.

feeling prompted, you ask the same question.

"yes."

now it's confirmed what everyone already suspected, but sylus doesn't offer more than that, leaving jenna to ask more about the operations. unsurprisingly, he only acknowledges the questions when you mimic them.

"we deal with the movements of the N109 zone that you all are too pure to taint yourselves with."

it's likely not exactly what jenna had in mind, but it was something. so she asks another inquiry about specific attributes of such dynamics, to which sylus waits patiently for you to repeat. this goes on for the next few questions until you're both irritated by the redundancy and vagueness of it all.

nothing he has said has exposed itself as more than what the UNICORNS already had on file. at most, all they got out of this operation was a face.

Sure, they had the leader, but what was a figurehead when the heart of the organization was still running rampant within its own borders? at least it could be said that what he build was competent in his absence. though more could be said about the lack of rescue attempts.

"why are you modifying protocores?"

this was the first question of your own, and because his gaze had never left yours, sylus acknowledges it with a raised brow.

"because it makes them better." your frown deepens, and in noticing sylus yields more information. "If protocores were to be left in their current state, it would be similar to extracting a gem and leaving it unrefined. to truly want to extract its beauty, it must be cultivated." it's common sense really, goes unsaid but his tone holds the intent.

jenna doesn't propose the next question, so you take the opportunity to poke more.

"and what do you do with these advanced protocores?" it's not meant to be a compliment, but acknowledging that they were better than anything the UNICORNS had in inventory was a simple fact.

sylus doesn't answer immediately. he seems to be rolling his response around his tongue before deciding on the preferred taste.

"the wanderers are an issue to both sides, along with the other unsavory characters that associate themselves with the entire mess. we utilize our resources as we see fit."

with that, he confirms what had been speculated—that onichynus wasn't the only force making waves in the N109 zone and, by the sound of his distaste, they were not pleased with the fact.

"and what is the end goal of said resources?" jenna enunciates her question by stepping further into the room. it's an obvious authority play, something even sylus acknowledges with a barely-there smirk.

whatever is written on your face is easily read by him, so he humors her by responding directly for the first time, "whatever we want."

and that was the last of any relevant information either of you were able to get out of the man. he would always give you some sort of response, or at least his lips always moved with sound.

but questions like "how many members are in onichynus?" were met with answers like "i enjoy chocolate mousse cake but hate when they add cherries on top. what's your favorite dessert?" to the point where jenna decided to call it for the night, to sylus's humored dismay.

"we were just getting to know each other."

which was hilarious because, aside from knowing his apparently favorite confectionary sweet and his preferred exercise routine to blow off steam, he was every bit of the mystery of the man you'd walked in on.

it was a shame, really, because at the end of it all, you were finding your soulmate to be interesting, to say the least. a shame that intrigue came from the fact that he was a notorious criminal with more affiliations than UNICORNS could ever hope to pin on him.

you suppose you could at least admit to yourself that he was attractive. the pale, ashy hair complemented his eyes well. he was certainly built like a leader who liked to get things done on his own terms rather than delegate.

the biggest folly, really, that he just wasn't your type.

which is odd, because why would the stars align your lives with incompatible dynamics? If you needed a man to look at you for permission every time he spoke, you'd just get a dog.

perhaps it was best he was locked up, otherwise, you'd be the one forced to collar him.

"if I am to accept this will be my 'last meal,' could i at least get one request of my own?"

jenna pauses in her monologue of reading of rights, a long, drawn-out literature of things that are hearsay and probably won't even apply to a highly classified criminal such as him.

it's fair for her to be affronted by the inquiry, because not only has he not yet been offered his 'last meal,' it's the fact that it's you he's looking at.

he seems to wait for everyone to reach that pinnacle before he continues, "nothing untoward, i promise, as I am very much secured." as if the steel walls weren't enough, he makes a flimsy attempt to shake the handcuffs at his wrist.

reminded, your eyes flicker to the affronted restraints before raising to meet his. "what?"

his grin should have been the first warning.

"if you could at least humor the facade of privacy by coming closer."

it should be a threat. and definitely should not be considered.

but outside of the truth of him being a criminal, he is also, unfortunately, your soulmate. and while your spirits are not bound through mortality, you doubt he would do anything regardless.

it's Jenna who gives you the longest look before leaving the rest to you.

and from there, all that is left is a metaphoric cat and it's curiosity.

it doesn't take many steps for you to close the distance. as you approach, the man spreads his legs wider as if in accommodation, but you stop before accepting the obvious offer. it earns you the first proper smile rather than his muted smirk.

he leans forward instead, to close the distance himself, arms still held at a certain angle due to them being locked in a loop around the chair. from this position, the best he could do was tilt his chin up from a bowed head.

"are you disappointed?"

he's talking about himself. his attachment to you. the twine that intermingles your souls. and it's the first genuine set of words that you hear from his mouth besides his name.

"aside from the obvious, i'm not sure. if you'd chosen a different profession, perhaps you could have had the opportunity to prove me wrong."

which, down the road, or perhaps in a few moments, you would learn was both the wrong and right thing to say.

for in the next breath, his chest evened out, and behind his back, his pointer finger twitched once, and you all heard the clink of the cuff unlocking.

"well, with an opportunity like that, how can I resist, sweetie?"