#hu fic <3

[welcometoteyvat]

AU where xiao has no karmic bonds anymore and works in liyue’s food delivery services

idk wanmin restaurant is expanding its service and xiangling heard zhongli telling guoba (when zhongli visits the ex-stove god the conversation is really one-sided but zhongli doesn’t mind, he can ramble enough for the both of them) that xiao is looking for work, and yknow, xiangling’s seen the young adeptus here and there and he’s praised her cooking before, both she and her dad don’t expect running deliveries to be that much work (plus he can teleport, it won’t be that hard) and he’ll get paid decently, why not offer him a job? he can pilot the program for a bit and then they’ll see whether it turns out ok, the worst thing that could happen is getting 1 star reviews on sevenstars.tyv for “unapproachable and frightening demeanor of delivery guy” (sumeru scholars invented the internet a couple years back or something). 

obviously zhongli says yes for xiao, because he thinks xiangling’s suggestion can do the young adeptus good—trusty old common wisdom states that food warms the heart and brings people together, and xiao (or any liyuen) is not an exception. and of course xiao agrees to zhongli’s proposal because when has he ever refused a request from his god and savior. never! zhongli and xiangling both assure him that he can refuse or resign at any point and neither will hold it against him, but of course xiao takes his job extremely seriously, and if yanwang di- no, if zhongli daren wants him to do it, of course he will.

xiao doesn’t have any feelings on the arrangements because it’s just another thing to keep him busy lol but he appreciates complimentary almond tofu, especially since he manages to persuade xiangling to make it the traditional way he likes it and save her new and improved tofu recipes for Other customers to try

xiangling sends xiao to more remote places at first to avoid crowds, which he appreciates, one time he goes to qingce village and ends up meeting little luo again, he doesn’t even remember her until she exclaims “you’re the adeptus who rescued my doll!!” with a giant smile on her face... were humans always so blindingly bright? he stiffly gives the family his greetings, and tries to smile a little bit at the girl (she’s extra pleased by this, maybe he’ll ask zhongli whether he has good smiles or whether they look like grimaces). little luo... was it? he should get xiangling to send her some candy next time.

he gets sent to the chasm one time bc the miners ordered hotpot as an end of season celebration, and he finds a small little memorial to the millelith who died in the chasm 500 years ago. after delivering the hotpot ingredients, xiao climbs to the top of the cliff to pick a qingxin and offer it to the memorial. the other yakshas were always pretty fond of humans, so it’s only natural. 

when he gets a little more used to the city xiangling sends him to deliver stuff around liyue harbor itself—one time the delivery was for hu tao, xingqiu, and chongyun, hanging around wangsheng parlor. usually xiangling would join them herself, and the young opera director yun jin and their rockstar friend xinyan visit too, but the three were busy with their own plans that time and it fell to xiao to deliver their dinner: light translucent shrimp dumplings without carrots, a bowl of cooling soup, and filleted fish. he hears them playing a rowdy game of something (mahjong... with only three players? or maybe tcg.... but as a 2 v 1 game? he’s getting more and more confused by the second) before the door’s opened by hu tao; she seems really ecstatic to see him, except her smirk sobers up quickly once they hear chongyun shouting “hey! you stole my cards!!” regardless she thanks him for the food, and then tells him a joke that really shouldn’t be funny at all except the corners of his mouth quirk up against his will. of course hu tao notices this, she’s always been a mischievous child too clever for her own good, and she smiles even wider in return and tells him that he’s welcome any time in her house. if he brings a couple hilichurls along he’s even more welcome

and of course, a lighthearted scene where, surprisingly, zhongli also places an order, but it isn’t sent to wangsheng funeral parlor, xiao goes all the way to jueyun karst and delivers the order to cloud retainer, mountain shaper, and moon carver. they’re just chilling and zhongli is introducing them to take out. “so, what do you all think of wanmin’s handiwork?” xiao tries to leave before any of them can start droning on and on, but obviously he ends up spending the whole meal with them because nobody can escape the sheer force of zhongli and cloud retainer infodumps. the other adeptus ask after him and the meal is generally silly banter: there’s a digression on triangular cups,,,, some nagging for xiao to eat more, “look at my newest invention isn’t it wonderful”,,,,,, and other small and incredibly mundane nothings that keep the conversation flowing like the tea from their triangular cups. insignificant occurrences in more peaceful lives, and maybe xiao is learning how to fall into this new rhythm of things... maybe he even likes it, maybe it will bring him more smiles in the days to come

yknow yknow do you feel me

very aware that some of this might be super ooc especially the adepti thing at the end but hey they can be silly as a treat, cloud retainer and co deserve a bit of adeptal entertainment time

#more end notes: the thing about smiling has literally invaded my head bc do you know the npc little luo who's in qingce village #she met xiao before and like he gave her her doll back right and then she says hmm i wonder what would make adeptus xiao smile #hoarous wrote the best fic in existence for my otp based on that line and tbh its really such a good line like WAH supposedly 'scary' conque #conqueror of demons masked yaksha alatus smiling.... 🥺 thats so cute come on guys #in this au i like to imagine that he brings flowers for cy along with the order. and then cue ht and xq teasing him endlessly for it bc im n #nothing but a xiao.yun shill at the end of the day #can be read however you want tho there's a reason why i hide ship thoughts in the tags lmfao #ok maybe i should write a fic???? realizing... i wrote more for this than i have in like the past 3 months and this is literally just me thr #throwing spaghetti at the wall #@ followers is this anything #xiao #zhongli #xiangling #teyvat thoughts #hu tao #genshin impact

[m1d-45]

hey hey! it's the death loop anon!

i love the concept so much, i agree it's a bit of a wasted potential and would love to see it more in the sagau space ;;;

i send asks like once in a blue moon tbh (i'm vv shy) but you may call me stormy ⊂(´• ω •`⊂)

hello and welcome! don’t worry about ask frequency at all; i’m happy to have you here <3

#m1d : [chats] #death loop anon #1) BANGER anon title #2) curse my brain for picking up new phrases so quickly. my knee jerk reaction to this was ‘oyo; welcome!’ BABE. THAT ISNT A WORD. #i’ve picked up a handful of phrases from a hu tao in a fanfic i read like a week ago. they’ve infected my speech and there is no cure #i already allow so much of my speech and thinking to influence my typing it’s insane (ex all the periods and dashes to show how my thoughts #stutter or stop) and i need to keep it legible. i already type how another fanfic character wrote i need to stop— #(by that i mean the habit of cutting off the g in words ending in ‘ing’ because apparently my mind has attached to that way of typing? #it’s unclear because that fic was months ago and this is a recent development but. idk live laugh love ig) #but you didn’t ask. so i’ll shut up <3

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

Moonlight Sunrise (Part 1)

Minatozaki Sana x reader

GENRE: angst, fluff, non-idol

TYPE: Short fic (part 1 out of 3 maybe?)

Slowly making your way down the dusty, unfamiliar roads, you passed several guards waving large indigo-purple flags.

“Only two more days before the labyrinth opens!” they yelled, “Find the Luminite Stone and save the princess from the labyrinth!”

Several men, presumably the best knights and warriors of their kingdoms, crowded around the guards, sizing each other up and boasting about their wins.

As you passed by the crowd, you quickly pulled down your hood, trying to avoid any suspicion. There was a low possibility that anyone recognized you, as you were more of an assassin, always with your face covered. However, you were worried that others from the same profession might be present as well.

It was almost time for the annual labyrinth challenge, where warriors and knights from all over the world traveled to the Minatozaki kingdom, one of the most powerful kingdoms existing, to save the princess and win her hand in marriage. The only child of King Minatozaki had been cursed by one of the eastern witches after they were accidentally omitted from the baby’s birth celebration. It was rumored that she had one of the most angelic faces to grace the earth, but right after her 17th birthday, she disappeared from public view altogether.

A labyrinth of a thousand acres suddenly appeared at the borders of the kingdom, shrouded by dark clouds and vine-covered walls thousands of meters high. In the core of the labyrinth was the Luminite stone, a stone that grants the beholder any wish, and the princess’s soul was also bound to the stone. The princess was said to only be seen in the labyrinth, forever lost in the dark.

King Minatozaki loved his daughter dearly. Although he was reluctant to marry her off to just anyone, he knew that he himself couldn’t manage to retrieve the stone with his daughter's soul from the labyrinth. He wanted his daughter free from the grasp of the labyrinth, so the only way to do so was to hold a competition every year when the gates to the labyrinth opened.

Anyone who managed to make it out alive with the stone would be able to have their wish granted, but at the same time, as they now had the stone, they would be in control of Princess Sana, and the entire kingdom would be inherited. This prompted countless greedy men to try, hoping to have their deepest desires fulfilled and to possess the most beautiful human to grace the earth. However, not once had anyone made it out alive from the past ten competitions, all disappearing mysteriously.

You couldn’t care less about owning an entire nation, let alone marrying a random princess that you had never seen. You were there for the one wish that would be granted by the Luminite Stone. You had someone to save, and that brought you out from the private, invisible life as an assassin.

.

.

.

.

The sun was setting as you finally reached the golden gates of the castle. Its towering walls, adorned with intricate carvings and banners bearing the kingdom's crest, loomed majestically against the dusky sky. Each night leading up to the competition for the week, the King hosted lavish banquets within the castle's celestial halls.

These gatherings weren't just about food; they were a spectacle, ensuring the competitors were not only well-fed but also immersed in the grandeur of the kingdom. Newcomers were welcomed with open arms, and given the chance to register, mingle, and familiarize themselves with the labyrinth's complexities before the daunting challenge ahead. After all, this was probably the last time they would ever have something to eat before they met their end in the labyrinth.

The banquet hall buzzed with hundreds of men, their voices echoing off the walls. You spotted a few familiar faces from your past travels but made a beeline for the reception, preferring not to draw attention. After all, the labyrinth held not only unknown monsters but human threats as well.

“Name?” the page asked without looking up, his tired face buried in countless scrolls of paper.

“Hwang Y/N,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably and pulling your hood even higher over your face.

The page paused, his hands trembling slightly as he looked up at you. His eyes widened in shock, and he pushed his glasses closer to his eyes, clearing his throat.

“Hwang Y/N? The NightWalker?”

You nodded, expressionless, as the man cowered in fear.

“I-I didn’t expect you to participate in these events.”

“Is that a problem?”

“N-no… of course not. I guess even assassins have an eye for beauty,” he nervously laughed, expecting you to agree.

You narrowed your eyes at his comment, disbelieving how even those who worked for the princess treated her as an object.

“You should keep your mouth shut before I cut off your tongue,” you whispered in his ear, watching with satisfaction as he fumbled with his pen.

Before you could do anything else, a warm arm wrapped around your shoulders. Instinctively, you reached for your small knife, but the intruder's hand firmly grasped yours, firm yet unthreatening.

“Now now, Hwang. That’s not how you greet an old friend, is it?”

You turned to see Momo, one of your close colleagues before she became head of security for the Minatozaki Kingdom.

“Hirai,” you sighed, pulling her into a hug.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger. It’s been, what, three years since I last heard from you?”

“Five,” you grinned, feeling more at ease with Momo by your side.

“Yes! Exactly! Ever since you took down the Kim Clan, you just disappeared,” she sighed dramatically, leading you toward a table filled with exotic cuisines. She grabbed a bottle of champagne, taking a sip before passing it to you.

“The hero of the century, gone without a sound, forever remaining a mystery. Face unseen, name forever known. Until now,” she said as if narrating a fairy tale. “She shows the world her face, to save the damsel in distress.”

You rolled your eyes and took a swig of champagne. “I’m not here for the princess or power.”

“Whichever reason you are here for, I won’t pry. I’ll just be cheering you on from the sidelines.” Momo smirked, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. Her respect for your privacy was always something you loved about her.

“Anyway, I have to get back to my duties. Let’s catch up tomorrow before the challenge.” She says loudly, before whispering in your ear, “take the door on the left, and go down two flights of stairs. You’ll find the backdoor to the garden.”

As if nothing happened, she straightened up and breezed away toward a small crowd that was about to break into a fight.

You watched Momo easily tackle a barbaric man down to the floor, without drawing her sword. The crowd of onlookers quickly dispersed as Momo stood up with one of her feet on the man’s stomach, looking challenging for anyone daring to cause more trouble in her land. She caught your eye and grinned, giving you a goofy thumbs-up before changing back to her serious face.

You chuckled, grabbing an apple and the champagne, before slipping to the darker corners of the kingdom undetected. Momo working here was a blessing in disguise, she gave you the chance to get to investigate the labyrinth before the challenge.

.

.

.

.

As you navigated down a murky corridor, the air thick with the scent of age and dampness, you descended what felt like more than two flights of stairs, each step creaking under your weight. At last, you stumbled upon a wooden door, its frame nearly crumbling with decay from years of neglect and exposure to the elements.

Pushing it open with a groan, you were surprised to find yourself greeted by a scene of unexpected beauty. The garden beyond was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting ethereal shadows upon the grounds. Dewdrops reflected the moonlight like diamonds on the grass, their gentle shimmering a stark contrast to the dark, cloudy skies looming over the labyrinth just meters away.

The metal walls that surrounded the garden appeared rusted and weather-beaten, their once sturdy facade now worn and rusted. You couldn't help but wonder if they were enough to keep people out, let alone the rumored monsters said to lurk within the labyrinth's depths.

Taking another swig of your champagne, you wandered around the walls, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the still night air. Peering into the swirling mist, you strained your ears and thought you heard faint roars emanating from within. Yet, in the eerie silence of the garden, you couldn't be certain if they were real or merely figments of your imagination, born from the ominous atmosphere that surrounded you.

"Guess I won’t be getting anything out of this tonight," you thought, sighing as you took a seat on one of the forlorn benches near the metal bars.

Taking an apple out of your coat pocket, you polished it on your sleeve. Just as you were about to bite into it, an eerily soft voice echoed from the shadows looming over the corner.

"Can I have some?" A hooded figure emerged, causing you to leap to your feet.

Despite your assassin training, you hadn’t heard her approach.

The figure slowly removed her hood, revealing long, almost white blonde hair that seemed to reflect the moonlight. She was around the same age as you, her face perfectly sculpted but haunted, with dark circles under her eyes.

“I mean no harm,” she raised her ghostly pale arms in surrender.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion but nodded nonetheless, despite the blood in your body pumping in a fight. It was obvious that this being was not entirely human, but you were in no condition to fight a monstrous being before the competition. The stone was what was important, so you were willing to do anything to avoid conflicts before the challenge.

The girl walked slowly towards you, her posture and grace as if she came from royalty, and sat down on the bench. She looked up at your standing figure expectantly, giving you a soft smile as you finally sat down.

You reached into your coat to pull out a small knife, and the girl immediately flinched. But you simply used the knife to peel the apple, before slicing a piece and putting it onto her hand.

“Thanks,” she muttered, before nibbling on the piece of apple.

You took a good look at the girl. She was thin, too thin, as if she would be blown away by the wind.

“You can call me Luna,” she said finally, still nibbling on the small piece of apple.

You gave a small chuckle at the irony of her name. She did indeed look like the moon goddess herself.

“What’s so funny?”

You shrugged, continuing to slice more pieces of apples for the girl. You saw her glaring at you from the corner of your eye, letting out huffs of frustration when you never said anything.

“Normally when someone introduces themselves to you, you do the same in return,” she said annoyed. Her annoyance made her seem human, and this eased your nerves a bit.

“I’m Hwang Y/N,” your lips twitched, trying not to smile at the way Luna chewed on the apple angrily.

“I like your name,” she said grudgingly, reaching over to grab your champagne without asking.

“What about it?” It wasn’t often that someone didn’t flinch when they heard your name.

“Hwang,” Luna explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, before chugging down half the bottle of champagne.

“It means bright, right? Like the sunrise.”

“Yeah, and?” you asked, reaching over to grab the champagne from her hands. “Stop stealing my shit.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the sun,” she muttered. “Wish I could see the sunrise.”

“Why can’t you?” you asked, turning around to look at her.

Luna ignored your question, instead turning her body towards you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” she raised her big eyes to look at you, her eyes suddenly glowing a faint crimson in the honey-brown hues.

She was definitely not fully human.

You shivered slightly, both in fear and something else, attraction. No, it must be because you felt sorry for her. The poor girl seemed to not have access to much food.

“Thought I could get some clues here before the challenge,” you said honestly.

“Are you looking to win the princess over, too?” she asked with a hint of bitterness in her tone. “To control her as if she was a puppet?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

You hesitated, knowing it wasn’t smart to share anything with strangers, you knew that. But there was something about this girl that you couldn’t seem to put a finger on, it was as if her aura could power all your feelings. You couldn’t do anything but tell her the truth. It was as if she casted a spell on you, her glowing eyes controlling every move.

“I need that stone. I need to get that wish so that I can save my sister.”

Luna’s eyes softened slightly, the glowing red fading and turning back to the original brown color. You felt your body instantly relax.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s sick. She’s been sick for a few months and there’s nothing the doctors can do. Time is running out so I have to hurry.”

The image of your little sister lying in bed, her once lively face now sunken and yellow, her eyes devoid of their usual spark, sends a shiver down your spine. The very thought grips your heart. It was her condition that drove you to show your true identity and take part in this dumb challenge, revealing yourself to the public eye, and relinquishing your assassin status. Now that everyone knew what you looked like, it was inevitable that a bounty would be put on your head.

“I’m sorry,” Luna said, her voice gentle.

Her hand raised slightly as if she wanted to hold yours in comfort but thought better of it.

You shook your head and looked down at your knees. You couldn’t let anyone sense your weakness.

You heard Luna get up from you, this time finally being able to hear her movements.

“I hope you win, Y/N,” she said, her voice soothing, passing warmth throughout your body, instantly making you feel better.

She put a small black object in your lap, a compass.

You looked up and found her walking backward towards the metal walls, a smile playing on her lips. She looked younger when she smiled, innocent even.

"Take the path on the far right, then follow my compass," she instructed, her voice echoing faintly as she effortlessly passed through the metal bars and vanished into the dark mist.

"I'll lead you the way."

You shivered, utterly enchanted and spooked by that humanlike being.

After a moment, you finally shifted your attention to the compass in your hands. It was an exquisite piece, adorned with golden rings and silver arrows.

You flipped to the back of the compass, and there, engraved in elegant wording:

Minatozaki Sana

Next chapter

Been wanting to get this out to you guys for a while now! It's quite different from what I usually write, so let me know if you want to see more of this.

#gxg #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #wlw #twice x reader #twice fic #kpop fic #wherethefireliliesgrow #itzy #twice #sana #twice sana #sana x reader #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader #sana imagines #fem reader

[moochalove]

Bestest of Friends!(NSFW)

(pervert!Ayato x gullible!fem!reader)

Unfortunately I couldn’t form a single thought for part 3 of my Kazuha x Reader x Scara fic (i’m still cooking it up though so dw pookies☝️)

Iwhipped up this fic in a couple of hours…. I wanted to do more but it’s already so long!!

Anyways😋 ik i said gullible!reader but if you’re also perverted this can be seen as a reader who doesn’t stop his advances!

Not proofread!!

Word count: idk i should really check though! 🗣️

Being a friend of the Yashiro commissioner was something you hadn’t ever imagined. The Kamisato family was pristine, cunning, witty, and decisive. Their looks? You can’t even form the right words to describe them… Both of them are like porcelain dolls dressed in the finest silk clothing in all the land (although still below Her Excellency)

Sure, you were also pretty, but when you stand next to your good buddy Ayato, you just look like his helper… There have been times when you’ve been mistaken as his personal helper. Luckily Thoma was there to sort things out.

Ayato had approached you first. You had been smelling the flowers outside Komore tea house. The way you leaned over to smell the native bloom, with a delightful smile you pulled away from the flowers and accidentally bumped into the taller man’s chest.

Before you realized who it was you quickly apologized and tried running off. You did your best to avoid any social interaction, it always seemed like it caused more harm than good. (At least as the end result)

Something about you immediately grabbed Ayato’s attention, could it have been your silky/thick/bouncy/curly hair locks? The way your skin looked so soft (despite any texture it may have) oh, how he wished to caress it gently. He doesn’t even know your name and he’s already so far in love with you.

His purple-hued eyes watch your figure run further away, he should run after you but he’s still trying to process your enchanting body that has put him under a spell. It would be a shame if he were to let you go right now, sure, he can find you with the snap of his fingers, but he wants your official meeting to be something you’ll remember.

If only you knew that you had a practical prince running through the streets of Inazuma, knowing that would make drop to the ground out of shock, maybe even fear? Surely if someone so important were looking for you it’d mean you’ve done something wrong? The only thing Ayato would accuse you of being guilty of is being so pretty. (You guys have been in each other’s presence for about 45 seconds)

When he finally finds you you’re sitting on a bench, trembling and fidgeting with your hands. Perhaps you realized who he was and now you’re going through the motions of it all.

You immediately notice him and shoot up then offering up your seat. Oh how nice you were, your kindness knows no bounds, and surely goes the same for your love! Instead, he lets out a simple yet endearing laugh, “You offer me a seat despite it being rightfully yours, why so?” You’re fumbling with your outfit, avoiding eye contact, surely if you stay quiet he’ll leave you alone.

“Conversations usually involve two people, you know? Ah, perhaps it’s because of my status you’re hesitant to speak with me.”

Letting out a squeak you motion your hands in the hair before deciding to finally speak up. “I-I’m sorry. I just want sure if you were talking to me..”

Even the way he sits down is elegant and simple, “Who else would I be talking to? It seems you aren’t the most attentive person, hmmm I’ll make note of that..” He motions for you to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry I’m just not the most talkative person…” “Of course, anyone could notice that from a mile away.” he’s so blatant even he realizes he’s being insensitive by the way you curl in on yourself. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to be so rude. Let’s start over, I am Kamisato Ayato, although, like many Inazumans, I’m sure you already knew that.”

“I am L/n, L/n Y/n, It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kamisato.” It would be an understatement to say you were nervous but you were nervous! What if you came off as rude or impolite? You’re not well-versed in all formalities.

His eyes never leave your e/c irises, the way his eyes devoured you should’ve set off a few alarms in your mind but they all seem to be mute.

“No need for the formalities, Y/n. I was actually hoping to converse with your normally, you know, like friends! I do hope you would be okay with becoming friends, hm?”

Every time someone had reached out to be your friend it always ended up with you crying alone. You’re not sure why people picked on you but you also couldn’t bear to fathom the idea of being alone forever. People are just misunderstood! If no one understands them then they’ll be all alone! That’s why you feel the need to accept anyone in your heart with open arms. No one should hurt like you have, so you just need to keep looking on the bright side of things! Eventually, it will get better, right?

Ayato isn’t dumb, he’s got a sharp-keen eye and he’s already picked up a few things about you! Isn’t that so romantic? He’s already making a list in his head about flowers that would surely embrace your sense of smell. Flowers that would adorn your h/c locks. Ah, that’s beside the point…The point is, you’re very gullible! And there’s nothing he loves more than an exploitable person. Especially one as cute/handsome as you!

The way he laces his voice with a subtle hint of yearning, the way he tilts his head innocently, even the way he quirks his eyebrow with a gentle smile plastered on his face… Were all calculated in his fucked up mind! Even if it’s all for show, he knows you’ve already made up your mind.

You’re quick to agree so, eyes sparkling with joy, admiration, and yearning. Compared to his cheap fraudulent smile; yours is genuine, an adoring yet pathetic smile.

He leans in for a hug but you back away, “Ah, my apologies. I hadn’t considered if you enjoyed physical contact. Please, forgive me.” Oh, he knew what he was doing. The way he feigned innocence in his voice made you feel guilty. At that time you weren’t too open to physical contact but had you considered how he was doing? Being in such a high position must be on another plane of stress. Before he fully pulled away from you, you leaned in and wrapped your arms under his. It was a little awkward at first for you but he seemed to melt into you and embrace you affectionately.

You guys would meet up every week at the Komore tea house, talking about your lives and discussing plans about things you wanted to do currently and in the future. Ayato would have never guessed someone like you would want to leave your homeland for another nation. The way you talked about the nation of wind so joyfully, or how you thought about wanting to potentially open your own shop in Liyue, maybe even embrace the life of a scholar once again in Sumeru, the idea of learning the arts which Fontaine had to offer didn’t sound too bad either, although the world is a dangerous place so why not train in Nathan for a couple of years, ah, but the idea of falling in love in the snow-filled capital of Snezhnaya also seem to captivate your blissfully troubled mind.

Ayato did not like those ideas one bit. He would rather drop dead or be publicly humiliated if it meant for you to stay by his side for eternity. The way you showed signs of maturity angered him just a little. He wanted you to stay “young” and innocent like a little toy doll he could control, yet here you were, getting help from professionals, forming healthy relationships and habits, you even had someone to call your lover, he can’t be bothered to remember their name right now but he knows for sure you deserve someone better (he’s referring to himself.)

His hugs have gotten tighter, and the way he wraps his toned arms around your waist doesn’t seem to drive a reaction out of you, or at least a voiced reaction.

He wants to go further.

The way his hand possessively tangles itself onto yours, interlocking his slim fingers to yours, comparing hand sizes, and the way he cups his face with your hand while placing a kiss onto the side of it does seem to get a reaction out of you. “Um… You good, Ayato?” “Of course my dear, ah, my apologies Y/n if I’ve offended you. I just assumed I was allowed to do this since we are friends.” He says all while smiling into your palm.

“Haha, of course, it just caught me off guard is all!” you’re no better, the way you cup his face with your other hand before rubbing his face like a dog. “Although, Dear, I would advise against you telling anyone about this. It’s something that stays between good friends, understand?” All too entranced by how soft and smooth his skin is you agree.

Over the span of a couple of weeks, the touches have gotten worse, he’s touching places that only lovers should touch. When he comes in for hugs he’s groping the plump of your ass and feeling up and down your hips. Or when he leans in from behind to hug you, he’s wrapping his arms around you possessively and gently nipping at your neck. At first, you seemed a little concerned but your good buddy Ayato reminds you that it’s what friends do! Just don’t go around doing it to your other friends because you can only do this with very special friends. (Such as himself)

It was all part of his plan to break and rebuild you the way he likes. Breaking you was all too easy, all it took was for him to truthfully admit how much he adores his sister and his butler/friend Thoma. You broke down into a sobbing mess admitting how you longed for a relationship like that, longing for someone to treat you nicely, that aching pain in your heart you wished would go away. And it did when he hugged you and whispered positive affirmations into your ear, when he wiped your tears and snot away with his silk robes that definitely cost more than you, it relit your shrunken burnt out heart, it was now burning brightly again, with nothing but admiration for the prince who swept you off your feet and brought you to safety. Or at least that’s how you saw it.

Rebuilding you was currently in the works, he needed you to be whipped and ready to accept whatever passed through his throat as the truth and nothing more. Even if you’ve matured a little that doesn’t mean he can break through your now rough and tough exterior, the inside still raw and soft; gullible. The thought that you might shun him and realize his toxic behavior was more stress-inducing than all his work combined. He didn’t want you to throw him away! Only he was allowed to do that. If you were to get boring he could throw you away and leave you broken just as he found you, and he would be okay with it. But he loved you too much to even dwell on the thought even more than he has.

It was supposed to be a fun dinner party with everyone, and you’re lover too, but when he saw you adorning an apron with some excessive whipped cream your lover had booped on your face he couldn’t control himself. His mind plagued him with perverted thoughts, immediately he stated that you both had some things to catch up on and that the others should set the kotatsu with the proper cutlery.

As per usual, he greets you with a hug. The only difference is that it’s from behind and he’s trying his best to be the romantic man he is at heart and is currently helping you whip the thick cream that would complement the cake you had prepared. His hand is much stronger than yours, making it easy to stir and flip the cream, his other hand is mounted on yours against the side of the bowl. Nothing is said…

You can feel something hard poking into your rear but you ignore it, maybe it was his belt.

Ayato’s breathing is starting to labor, he’s bucking his hips ever so slightly against you. You turn around to say something but he simply leans in to kiss you. His hands have long abandoned stirring, instead holding your wrists with a single hand while the other fondles/caresses your chest. He’s guiding you to the island in the center of the kitchen before he’s bending you over. Bulge rubbing between your clothed sex was an amazing experience, the bundle of nerves was being stimulated pleasantly, and your hole was squeezing tightly against nothing. Based on the wet spot forming on your bottoms he can tell you’re bound to come undone soon. Hands wrapped around your throat with slight pressure applied has you turned on even more, everything feels hot and heavy down there, and you can hear a subtle slick noise coming from below, ah how embarrassing! You’re even more pathetic when he abruptly stops, whimpering and grinding your ass against him, trying to create even more friction, “W-why’d you stop?” His grip tightens before he whispers in your ear, “They’re near, let’s pretend to have a nice normal conversation, after all, it’s been a while since we’ve last caught up, hm?” he releases his grip from your throat, hands moving around your hips before he’s rutting against your sex again at a faster speed.

“So, Y/n, how has life been treating you? I hear you’ve made some new friends!” the longer you don’t respond he’s gripping bruises into your hips, “A-ah- I’ve been well! It’s true I’ve been- oh my- I’ve been making new friends! I wish I could’ve invited them today but-“you're covering your mouth with your hands, eyes rolling up from the pleasure as the fat on your chest bounces with every thrust. “B-but I know how jealous you get when I’m not paying- paying attention to you! Haahh.. So maybe next time y-yeah?” the ‘yeah’ was a little high-pitched but nobody would really notice unless they were right there at the door. “Oh yes, you know how possessive I can be,” emphasizing the word he can tell you’re about ready to reach your peak, his pants have long since dropped and his thick length is poking through his boxers, rubbing up against your wet folds and clit he can feel through those annoying pants of yours. He wished to rip them off then and there but he surely didn’t want to embarrass you by having you walk the walk of shame to the bathroom with ripped pants and a dripping wet cunt in front of everyone.

So he opted to give you your present early, it would have been so satisfying to gift you a beautiful silk kimono (in your favorite color) in front of your lover. Oh, how he wanted you to embrace him tightly in front of everyone exclaiming ‘thank you’ over and over again, something that he would definitely savor for his private time.

“I actually got you something, Dear!“ You’re not sure how he was able to easily flip you over and have your back pressed against the island but you’re too busy taking shallow breaths to even say anything. Stretching his limbs over you to reach for a plain-looking box, he pulls said kimono out and unfolds it from its once neatly folded state. “Isn’t it beautiful? I had it tailored to your body so it should fit like a glove. I won’t stress you the details but it’s worth a lot so please, cherish it.” once he finishes speaking his tip is rubbing circles into your hot clit, he’s smacking it with his fat pink tip, chasing his own high while he fists the thick base of his cock. Your high hits you hard and you squeal ‘thank you’ over and over again with the occasional ‘it’s so so pretty’ and ‘I’ll cherish it forever’ You’re loud enough for everyone to hear and that thought alone has him cumming onto your clothed cunt. Since he’s feeling so happy about it all he hasn’t stopped rubbing against you, which causes you to be overstimulated and for him to rip another orgasm from you. “C-cumming-“ is all he can muster up as he leans into you. His cock spasms as he pumps it, his cum spills onto your wet overstimulated cunt.

It takes him a moment to regain his composure as he slowly pulls away and clean himself up. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes but he’s kissing them away whispering, “Let’s get you changed, you’re going to look stunning for them all.” All you can do is hum okay in response as he starts to undress you. Pulling something else out of the box it’s a beautiful lingerie set, in fact, the one you’ve been thinking about buying for a while now… Not dwelling too much on the thought you kiss the mole beneath his soft lips in reciprocation. Ayato isn’t too vocal but when you kiss him there he can’t help but whine as he leans back into you, “Dear, I wouldn’t recommend doing that, or at least not until we’re in my quarters~” you stifle a giggle, “Okay, okay, just help me get dressed!”

When you slide the door open everyone is shocked and amazed at how stunning you look. You no longer look like a personal helper! Maybe not an equivalent to the siblings yet, but you’re getting there! Your lover is quite enthralled with your look but is also as bitter because they were planning on buying you that. Ayato notices their expression and huffs his chest pridefully.

The dinner goes well and everyone is happily content with all the food and desserts! Occasionally Ayato will glance at you or place his hand on your thigh but nobody knows.

After all, it’s what friends do! Right?

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin smut #kinda angsty #gullible!reader #fem!reader #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #ayato x fem!reader #genshin ayato #ayato smut

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

*TW*

Hello!!! I absolutely love platonic yanderes with teenage reader so can I ask for a fic where the teen!reader is basically a traumatized being. They have experienced hell throughout their life from mental abuse to physical abuse. Like I mean, they have gotten in many dangerous situations which ended up with police involved (kidnapped, assaulted, murder attempt). Ofc the reader never really did anything wrong, they were just an innocent child till everything went downhill. They don't have any family members left leading them to stay at an orphanage. Anddd you could say the orphanage people aren't the nicest. And their mental health has become so fucked up that they had attempted suicide.

You don't have to do this if ur uncomfortable ofc. Sorry about how triggering the request might be

On the roof

Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Cast x GN! Teen! Traumatized! Reader

Description: You are on the rooftop in the middle of the night.

Trigger warning: Suicide attempt. Abuse. Child abuse. Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder.

List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.

Warning: One swear word. English is my second language.

__________________________________

You silently opened the door, that leads to the roof of an orphanage. With your phone in hand, you take a few steps forward.

The door closed behind you.

You just stand here. You were silent.

You were here. You wanted to end this.

You sighed and looked around.

Should you just... Go to the edge and jump? It's not like someone would care about you.

You didn't bother with the last note.

No one would care about the reason.

You will simply become a name in documents.

You just wanted to be heard.

You mindlessly looked at your phone.

Should you take it with you?

Or left it here, so someone else would use it?

Your gaze stopped at the "BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan" icon. Will the new owner delete it? Or will continue your progress?

You tapped on the icon. You didn't leave a note.

Yet, you "talked" to BSD Characters so often, that it seems right, to let them hear your last words.

Your reasons.

You opened the Main Menu and choose 'Meeting Hall' option.

The picture of ADA Office appeared. And Chibis of all BSD Characters appeared.

This new option was cute. You liked petting chibis.

All chibis 'looked' at you.

And you finally spoke.

"Mom was strange..."

________

Your mom was strange.

She smelled funny. Like water everyone told you not to drink.

Sometimes, she stared at you. Stared for a long time.

And there were rules.

1. Don't cry.

2. Don't annoy mom.

3. You eat last.

4. If you stayed past curfew, you will sleep outside.

5. Don't tell anyone about your home life.

At least, she let you play outside as much as you want. Mom liked, when you were away from home.

*******

You were five, when you got kidnapped.

That night, you wake up to get some water.

Mom saw you.

In her eyes, you broke a rule.

You were sleeping outside.

One moment you were trying to get comfortable under the porch.

Next moment a man in a mask was dragging you in a van.

Three days.

You were in a dark, scary place for three days.

On a third day you heard two men talking.

"What do you mean, that mother didn't realize, that kid were missing?!"

_____

"Still... Mom paid the ransom. Kidnappers left me. It takes three more days for police to find me..."

____

You were standing near a police officer. And your mom finally arrived to the police station to collect you.

You walked to her, your head was low.

She hit you.

You screamed.

You collapsed on the floor, and your mother bent over you. She hissed and pushed you in the side with her feet.

"Are you satisfied, brat? Get up and go pack your belongings, we’re moving to a shed."

"You should treat your kid more kindly..." the officer grumbled. Your mother squealed.

"Kindly?! This brat had ruined my whole life!” Your mom was mad. She screamed like a fury, jumped in place and gave cowering you blow after blow. You didn’t try to dodge. You just trembled, curled up into a ball.

"Hubby ran away as soon as he gets it inside me! But dear relatives didn’t let me throw it away. They didn’t let me give it to an orphanage! They said that I need to raise this child! They stood up for a little bastard! But now, when I need to pay debt, they are nowhere to be found! They say I play cards too much! I'm just unlucky! Things are not going my way! The house is mortgaged! I poured all my savings into the last card game and won! I would pay off all my debts! And because of this thing, I now have to live in a shed! What will I tell my family now?! What will others say about me?!"

Officer heard enough.

The CPS were called.

_______

"... They were trying to find my father... Until then, grandmother and grandfather agreed to took me in..."

_______

You were six.

Your grandfather sat on the opposite side of the table.

Your textbook and notebook were laying on the table before you.

And your grandfather was talking.

"I finished checking your homework. As I expected, you are a little idiot. A stupid, worthless waste of space. You have made few stupid mistakes. You wrote numbers in a wrong order.

Grandfather opened your notebook. A red paste was covering the page.

2 + 1 = 3 1 + 2 = 3

3 + 1 = 4. 1 + 3 = 4

"So..." Grandfather take a ruler.

"Give me your hand. It will be ten hits for every wrong number."

________

"...it took two year to find my father. He had a family. And I... I was a child from affair. They never let me live it down... For years"

_______

You were nine.

The blow, when it came, took all of your air out of your lungs. You would have fallen if not for your two... "siblings" holding you.

"It feels good, giving a good beating to a dirtbag, right?"

The next hit was in your left eye. You managed to close it in time.

But it will be swollen.

You felt hot breath on your face.

"Your hair is too good for a bastard child."

Your sister brought the scissors up to your hair.

Snip, snip, snip. Cutting right alongside the scalp, sending your hair like leaves swirling to the ground.

Then scissors were plunged into your stomach.

"Die, child of a dirty whore."

______

"...Police was called. They were arrested. But I remained with father and his wife..."

_____

You were twelve.

You were going food shopping. Big bags were heavy, you were tried.

You still need to clean up the house and make dinner.

When you were attacked, because someone tied to rob you, you didn't even care.

You only knew, that, you will be beaten again for being late. And for losing food.

You were long past gone. There were no point in carrying about yourself.

~~~~~~

You were thirteen.

Your father, his wife and you were going to the funeral.

Your father's uncle died.

Now he only has his wife and kids. And you.

He noticed your gaze in a reflection.

He yelled at you for staring.

And he crashed.

You spent three hours in a broken car.

You were the only survivor.

_______

"... I was sent to an orphanage. I am too old to have any chance to be adopted. And I wasn't the only one, who had no chance to have a family..."

______

You tasted dirt and blood. An old rug was thrown over your head, to make it harder for you to fight back.

Someone pressed a knee on the back of your neck and held your face against the ground.

A kick in the side made you roll on your back.

Another person began to push down on your neck with an arm.

You began to struggle, thrashing about with your legs and beating them against the floor, but it was no good.

There were other kids around—at least a dozen of them. One of them would do something. One of them was sure to see that things were taking too far. Your vision began to go fuzzy.

Caretakers saved you only because the noise didn't let them watch TV.

________

"I couldn't take it anymore. I... thank you... Thank you for making me happy... For being the only happy thing in my life."

You finished talking and put your phone on the ground. You stand up and walked towards the edge.

You heard a loud noise. You turned around.

BSD Characters were standing behind you. Real.

And you were still standing near the edge. You were silent. Nikolai lift his overcoat and put his hand into the portal.

His head reappeared near you. You jumped away. Now you were even closer to the edge.

"No... I... I don't want to... Don't come closer..." whispered you. You took another step. You were almost here.

"[Y/N], if you go back, I will give you a hug!"

You froze and turned around.

Kenji Miyazawa made a step forward. He opened his arms, offering a hug.

"I promise, I will give you a hug. Come here... You really need a hug."

You trembled. You moved towards Kenji.

Step. After step. After step.

Kenji was standing here. Offering a hug.

You launched yourself forward, wrapping your arms around Kenji. He immediately hugged you back.

You cried. For the first time in years.

In a few minutes, you were in a middle of a large group hug.

________

You are fifteen.

You are living with your family.

You still have a long path to recovery.

And you are not alone.

BSD Cast will stay with you.

And will make sure, that you will never be hurt again.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #platonic #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: child abuse #tw: abuse #tw: kidnapping #tw: attempted murder

[dnastars13]

Can you write a nagi fic where he kinda is obsessed with readers chest and is just soo clingy.

☙↟𝑺𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔 : Nagi's girlfriend has big tits and he loves it.

Tags : Footballer!Nagi x gf!reader, reader has push up bras, reader has big boobs. Nagi gets a hard on.. nagi is a warning himself.

"Seiii, get off of mee" "hush baby lemme sleep-"

I sighed as I felt his face nuzzle into my chest, My face getting red and flustered.

It wasn't a surprise that nagi liked my boobs. But everytime we sleep together, he's made it his desicion to take my bra off and sleep on my tits. It's not like I minded him doing so. It's just that he was so.. blant about it. He'd often suck on them to sleep faster and it made me all the more flustered.

"Seishiro.." I called out, quietly.

"Huh?" He asked, moving his sleepy eyes onto me as he rested his chin between my tits.

My face became red at his nonchalant act. Ofcourse he acts like it's no big deal that he's basically using my tits as a pillow.

"I need to get to school sei.. we can cuddle later. Doesn't reo wanna meet you?" I asked holding his cheeks in my palms as he tried to nuzzle into my boobs.

"Reo can wait, I wanna sleep on them" he said sighing into my chest as my breath hitched and cheeks hued red.

I sighed trying to not blush. I slowly got up on my elbows. I looked at nagi's snow white hair and patted it, letting my hand run through his hair.

He wrapped his hands around my waist, burying his face deeper in my chest.

Ahh so soft.. so warm.. he thought to himself, breathing in your scent.

Oh how you loved nagi's teasing and how he looked acting like he didn't know what he was doing to you.

Just a small blue lock drabble bcs you guys wanted some blue lock fics <3

#blue lock #nagi seishiro #nagi x reader

[inmyheadimobsessed]

I Don't Play Nice

pairing: riri ✘ black!fem!reader

summary: don't fuck fans. this was your rule. unfortunately though, the development of this rule came only after you'd done just that. and now, you cannot seem to outrun your mistake.

word count: longg <3

contains: singer!reader, obsessed!fan!riri, mean!reader, semi mean!riri, possessive!riri, jealous!riri, ooc riri, tbh riri herself is a warning, toxic dynamics, some darkish themes?, mentions of stalking, smut (18+), dom!reader, sub!riri, bratty!riri, riri is mouthy & very unhinged, oral, choking, knife play (riri loves her knife), light nipple play, mentions of blood, car sex, public sex?, strap!reader, fingering (riri receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, spanking, crying, biting, pain!kink, masturbation, strap sucking (barely), use of drugs (pills), rough sex

tags: @verachii @venusdraco @quintessencewrites @cjariot @widowmakker @blackgcomica @n7cje @dejaonline @shinsousliya @generallysapphic @mbakuetshurisprincess @pinkwright @saintwrld @axailslink @mocha-aya @uhwhatsay @6-noir @cuddl3s4shur1 @chidinma @shuriszn @lppriceisright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @abenomeiiii @marsolgy @prettymrswright @shurisjournal @marsolgy @shurismainbxtch @shurisbbymama @shuriri4life @cafehyunji @yunhofingers @yamsthoughts @iseebeautyinwords @ihearttish @vampzxi @sapphicvqmpires

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: uhhhh, just stay with me, walk with me!!! see it the way i’m seeing it first!!! the car scene/smut is heavily inspired by ohmami by chase atlantic & maggie lindemann, i've had that song on repeat for weeks just sitting in my ideas. i would suggest listening to it to understand some of the references lol. other songs that inspired this fic: misunderstood - kodie shane, don't fight it - kodie shane, f&mu - kehlani, triggered - chase atlantic, off my head - kodie shane and then ohmami last. also this is dedicated to that anon who was screaming in my askbox for sub!riri for like a month, i saw you fren. i had too much fun writing this even though it killed my brain, i didn't even think i was gon post it fr. but anywhoo, hope y'all enjoy! mwah, mwah!!

Bright neon lights illuminated the stage, your crimson-hued silhouette resembling that of a deity from where you stood, bathing in the crowd’s continuous chant of your name. There were distinguishable cracks in the voices rushing you, throats more than likely sore from the ear-piercing screams bellowing out of them, yet still, they endured, glazed eyes stalking you in sheer adoration. Your audience clung to your every lyric, your every move down to the bounce of your sweaty curls as you pranced around the stage.

You were in your element, entrancing their minds with a power you had yet to grow used to.

In your chest, your heart gained life, its thump a deafening pound resounding in your ears; if the beating were any louder, the microphone clasped in your fist would surely pick it up. But it was yours to hear, just like the sensation of your stomach in your throat was yours to feel — the absence of your mind yours to know.

Calling your love for performing an addiction would be an understatement. You were your most authentic self on stage, every surge of adrenaline dosing the high you were jonesing for. Your confidence blossomed, not as a mirage, but as the most corporeal entity your body could conjure up, differing greatly from your branded media persona of an arrogant, entitled, asshole.

These were titles intended to condemn following the very messy breakup with your now ex-girlfriend, renowned actress Syla Slate. Gorgeous, talented, beloved by all of America; she was their sweetheart, so naturally, she won the public’s favor in the split. But your resilience had been a thing miscounted, and woefully so; you wore your scarlet letters with honor, refusing to clear up rumors surrounding your infidelity.

If there were words to be said, feelings to unpack, you would express them on the stage before the thousands of people holding your word as bond, which happened to be the exact thing you did now.

“London!” You commanded the audience with outstretched arms, your very presence eliciting a thunderous uproar. “I ain't think y'all could get any louder.”

The drove of onlookers read your disbelief as a challenge, shouts climbing the arena walls as the sharp octave punctured your eardrums.

You popped out your in-ears, unable to halt the slow smile stretching across your features. You were proud, proud that they risked the health of their voices just to hear yours. “Well alright, I guess y’all could get louder.”

They chuckled as a collective, making you follow suit, “I got one more song for you lot. That's what y’all be saying over here, right? You lot? Shidd, my southern ass wouldn't know,” They laughed again at your terrible rendition of a British accent. “Anyway, like I was saying, I got one more song, y’all cool with that?”

Just as you expected, shriek after shriek bled into one another, melding to create a boisterous sound that expanded around the O2 Arena, and you let your smile broaden as you secured your microphone back into its stand. “Ooh, y’all sound excited!”

The slowed tempo of your closing track began its waft, filling the speakers, the ears of your admirers, and your system all at once. They recognized the beat within seconds, the bass now competing with their cries.

A little bit of that arrogance you chose not to refute came peeking through as you adjusted your mic stand, “Oh y'all know this one, huh?” And they yelled again, satisfying you.

You shut your eyes, expiring a shaky breath into the grille of the mic in preparation, allowing the music to seize hold of you. Your digits trembled around the mouthpiece, and your rings scraped the surface.

Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way.

Instinctively, the lyrics vacated your mouth, and instinctively, your sockets began to well. You fought the tears, keeping your lids tight in protest of the tumble they threatened.

But, every time I try to up and walk away,

You come around and start to love me, love me better.

Your emotions and your wet eyes were both the epitome of irony. How many shows had you closed with this very song? Why were the waterworks threatening to spill now?

Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way

Perhaps they were due to the truth stewing inside you. Tonight wasn't just the last show of your tour, it would be your last live performance for a while. You would be leaving your heart on this stage tonight. A difficult decision made, but a necessary one nonetheless. Perhaps this was your body attempting to accept this fact.

Every time I try to up and walk away,

You make a promise that you'll love me, love me better

Love me, love me better

After a moment, your eyes fluttered open and the tears swelling your orbs rained down, fogging your vision. You loosened your strangle on the mic, only now realizing how tight you held to it. As you gazed at the sea of bodies, you noted their red eyes and damp cheeks. They were screaming your song back at you, your lyrics dragging through the air.

It wasn't uncommon to witness your fans crying at your shows; your music overwhelmed them; their connection to you overwhelmed them, and the vulnerability birthed from this emotional exchange overwhelmed you.

I think I'd rather just be misunderstood,

Found out your love ain't no good.

You took in the masses, scanning their dazed smiles as you continued to sing, and that's when you saw her.

Through the mist in your eyes, she emerged out of nothingness. Clad in lace, sporting that devilish smirk that curdled your blood, wearing those dark irises brewed to the brim with mischief. You could always pick her out in any crowd, which looking back, had been the commencement of your own undoing.

Had me at hello, got me with a kiss, left me in abyss.

She swayed to the music, mouthing the words with those dangerous fucking lips. Lips that could ruin your life with a single utterance, lips that did ruin your life, your relationship.

When you finally let your eyes meet, she bared her white teeth, taunting you in that way she often did. You were seething and she knew it, her swift little wink a testament to her knowledge.

You should turn away, rip your gaze from hers, focus on the tear-stained faces in the audience. You should ignore the abrupt shift in your heart’s thump, how it rattled in rage now at an uncomfortable rate. You shouldn't allow her to get to you just by simply existing.

Don’t want my heart cold, so I took it off of my neck and my wrist.

But, in an arena sculpted to house twenty thousand, a lone Riri Williams faded your performance high just by being.

God she was maddening, and inescapable it seemed, no matter the continent you ventured to. To the rest of the world, it'd look like you were serenading her in a bubble where just the two of you existed, but you both knew better. Your anger was palpable to her alone, something she counted on; you’d played this game of hers long enough to hone certain skills, like how to bury your building fury. Your muscles tensed, your knees locked in place as you returned to choking the mic yet again, sizzling under your elevating temperature.

You sang through your irritation though, spitting your venomous lyrics directly in her face as she watched, amused. She wouldn't ruin this parting performance for you.

Found out it was mostly lust but not love.

You kept your eyes on her for the duration of the song, earning jealous stares from the other girls rallying around her, their own hopes of soliciting your gaze made obvious. They were shoving, and yelling, yanking the barricade aggressively, yet still, all your focus lay on Riri. It's what she hoped for, to ensure chaos, to make it obvious she did not need to vie for your attention, she just… simply had it.

You were strengthening her pride, the last thing you sought to do, but looking away from her proved to be impossible.

Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way.

But, every time I try to up and walk away,

You come around and start to love me, love me better,

Love me, love me better…

Confetti raining from the heavens emulated her skin's shine, golden and distracting, the showers causing you to rip your stare away from her briefly. When the dust settled, she’d vanished, disappearing like she'd never existed, and you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself with a head shake.

“London, thank you, I love you. I’m gonna miss you!”

With that, the lights dimmed, giving you time to evacuate the stage swiftly and stealthily. Off you went, mind still muddled with the smugness she wore on her features as she gawked at you with feral eyes.

Riri being in town meant trouble, and you wanted no fucking part in whatever she had planned.

•••

After leaving the venue your entire body felt numb and fatigued, so you instructed your driver to take you straight back to your hotel. Typically, your routine concluding a performance would involve saying hello to fans who stayed behind after the show, you'd done it countless times, but not tonight. With Riri on the loose, you couldn't chance running into her anywhere, not in your current state of exhaustion. If she was to meet you this way, you were ashamed to admit that it would take zero effort on her part to coax you into doing whatever she wished.

You weren't too tired to be furious though, allowing the emotion to take precedence over your shame; you intended to use said fury to venture as far away from Riri Williams' deranged ass as you could manage.

The length of your silent car ride was spent with your head propped on the cool window, pondering her being in London. You didn't have to question her why; Riri fought valiantly to be wherever you were, but her how, that remained somewhat of a mystery.

How was it plausible for her to be in Europe right now? Her finals should be consuming the majority of her time, clashing with the schedule for the last leg of your tour. You knew this because you planned this.

For the first fifteen stops, there were no tour buses broken into, no dressing room locks tampered with, your shows remained uninterrupted, and you hadn't had to suffer through your usual internal battle when facing off with your biggest weakness. All was fine until tonight, your final concert.

How convenient, you thought, though you supposed her powers should in no way surprise you anymore. You knew the things Riri was capable of, experienced the fate of her actions.

Which was why you decided a quiet night in your hotel would be your chosen way of decompressing. When you pulled up to where you were staying, you shot your manager a text informing her you would not be attending the after-party thrown in your honor. Parties meant paparazzi and their intrusive questions about your relationship, or rather, the lack thereof. But most annoyingly, parties meant Riri, and her covert ways of always weaseling past security at events she presumed you to be at.

And you would pass on dealing with either scenario tonight.

The elevator chimed, doors sliding open on your floor and you stepped out, trotting swiftly toward your suite with a hot shower in mind, one that would rinse away your stressors.

Upon unlocking the door though, there was an immediate sense of something being off, the instinct an acquired habit after your colossal mistake of intertwining your life with Riri's. Every day since you'd been made to look over your shoulder. You stalked deeper into your room, eyes trailing to your rumpled white comforter pulled back as though someone had lain in your sheets.

Before you left that morning, you'd made your bed, another acquired habit, this one drilled into you by your grandmother growing up, and one you practiced diligently when sleeping in threads that weren't your own.

So naturally, with the sight laid out before you, your mind ran straight to the only person you knew could be responsible. The pillow on the right side of the bed was dented, and one of your silk button-ups from a previous concert sat in a pool on the carpet. You bent over to pick it up, pulling it to your nose for a deep inhale to find that you were indeed correct; the intoxicating aroma of Riri's perfume misted the fabric, forcing an unintentional smirk to crack across your lips. You battled against its appearance and lost, as usual.

She was here, in your room, in your bed, wearing your clothes. And recently too, her floral scent still lingering on your linens serving as proof. Your eyes rolled on command, but you decided to ignore the knowledge you'd just gained, mind still set on that well-earned shower. You figured you could still get to it, if Riri had still been around, her presence would've been made known the moment you stepped through the threshold.

Her absence indicated one thing though; she wanted you to come find her, but you wouldn't play into her hand. You were far too tired, and far too over her games.

You began a leisure strip, stepping out of your leather pants and dressing down to your undergarments before making your way to the bathroom. You stopped short when your toes met the tiled floor, gawking at the scene awaiting your attention.

Scarlet petals floated atop long departed waters, blanketing the bath that had now run cold. They were scattered across the floor as well, and the lasting whiff of outed lavender candles filled the air. A discarded bra hung off the side of the tub, matching panties too, and you sighed, stepping on the torn roses as you walked further into the bathroom. She sure knew how to make herself at home.

When you stood before the sink, your eyes dropped instantly to the counter, glued to the promiscuous polaroids littered across it.

Every last one of Riri, every last one taken in your bed. Your shirt draped her body in some, the golden shade making her skin pop beneath the material, mimicking the confetti from earlier. But she was fully naked in most, bare breasts and nipple jewelry exposed with her perfectly manicured fingers playing in her pretty cunt. You picked them up one by one, examining the images further.

The angles were impressive, you couldn't lie, and you appreciated her effort. Like her position in the picture your thumb grazed now; Riri was bent over, ass high in the air, her dripping folds glistening in the perfect shot.

The more time spent gaping at the photos, the stickier your underwear became, clinging to your own saturated cunt. Riri's effect on you wasn't some unknown thing, you were aware of it, she was damn sure aware of it, and these polaroids displayed below you were her version of a reminder, but you chose to stare anyway, reveling in the building throb at your center.

In the final one, her locs cloaked her shoulders, slightly shielding her nipples from your view. But your focus did not lie there, instead, the hefty-looking purple toy rammed into her tight hole stole your attention. It stretched her wide, the pleasure causing her head to sling backward, and those pretty lips to part, forming the most pitiful little 'o' you'd ever seen.

It was this shot that compelled your hand's betrayal, your shower partially forgotten as you slipped your digits beneath the waistband of your panties. One stroke of your swelling clit had your throat craning, imitating Riri's in the photo, a rugged moan slipping free as you splashed around in your wetness, eyes fluttering in response to the sensation.

Before you could really delve into pleasuring yourself though, you glanced at the mirror, reading the words written on it, words you'd somehow missed upon entry.

You rolled your eyes and freed your damp hands from your pussy, arousal on a mission to flee your body. It was replaced instead, by your previous rush of agitation as you reread her cheeky message.

“Did you miss me?” Scribbled across the glass in ruby-red lipstick, the question enclosed in her literal kisses.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

•••

In an interesting twist of events, you'd found yourself in the hotel bar nursing a rum and coke with your thumb looming over a poorly typed text message, those photos still weighing heavy on your head.

Under steaming streams meant to wash her likeness away, your pussy had a vastly different idea in mind, wrangling your fingers in on the plan against your will as you fucked yourself to the thought of her. You came harder than you had in weeks, though the orgasm did nothing to relax your spinning mind.

That's what the alcohol was for, or, what it was supposed to be for anyway.

You’d wandered downstairs in disgrace, desperately needing to drink your actions away. But rather than the escape you chased after, you were met with only more shame at the bottom of your glass. It was your single drink that prompted the idea of texting Syla. A risky move, and a cliché at that, texting your ex the second a drop of liquor kissed your lips. But, you’d done worse things, quite literally moments before drafting the unsent message you still stared at.

You supposed it was the guilt of your shower excursions truly driving your choice. She deserved an explanation for everything, a proper one, and providing that hadn't been an accessible opportunity over the past few months. She was busy on set, and you were on tour, battling the everlasting presence of the demon at fault for your parting.

Riri Williams.

You'd met her a year and a half ago, when your career was on the climb, and the line of girls willing to do whatever you wanted on the promise of a good fuck and a shot at being your next video vixen was unending. You never delivered on the latter part of that promise, but after experiencing the former, they hadn't the capability to mind much.

It was a routine you developed, sleeping with girls after every show, slutting them out, then sending them on their merry ways immediately after. So when the girl with full lips and sinful eyes caught your attention in a Chicago crowd, you knew immediately she was to be your next conquest.

She was alluring, unsettlingly so as she bopped to your singing with a smirk hanging off her blood-red lips. Danger lurked beneath that smirk, lying wait, and you took notice. It should've been your first sign to steer clear of the menacing beauty, but, you were stubborn by nature, and evidently your own worst enemy. So you stooped on the stage, extended your hand to meet hers, laced your fingers together, and sent the audience into a frenzy when you dedicated your celebratory ode to the soul foretold to doom your life.

Riri was the first of your plethora of playthings able to keep up with your stamina. She was fucking feral, and insatiable, hell-bent on riding your strap off of its harness. You weren't ashamed at the time to admit she was the best you’d ever had, and that was only after one night together.

You hadn't even questioned her appearances at multiple gigs and events afterward; you were way too gone off the sex to notice the sprouting problem. Much like performing, you were developing an addiction to her, and the heat between her thighs. Submerging your tongue deep within her wet walls provided the same jolt of adrenaline you received from being on stage, if not more. Bending her over to demolish her from the back got you higher than the chants from thousands of fans ever would.

When you finally did come up for air long enough to acknowledge your predicament, it had been far too late. You began to pull away, wanting to wean yourself off of the drug that was Riri. But she wasn't going for that.

Where you tried dousing your addiction into a dwindling flame, Riri's obsession flourished like a forest fire.

Denying her access to yourself was possibly the worst decision you could have ever made. It didn't stop her from finding your studio, damaging your car engine and conveniently being nearby to help fix it, she even went as far as getting jobs at the venues you played just so she could see you, only to quit directly after your set.

Her ways of maneuvering were mind-boggling, frustrating you to your very core because no matter the effort you poured into it, leaving Riri alone was a task you found to be formidable. She'd show up, and you'd give in. Every. Single. Time.

All of that came to a crashing halt when she obtained your home address, deciding to break in as some grand romantic gesture to “win you back.” You didn't read it that way, obviously, and you branded her a lunatic who had no part in your life. You fucked her like she was nothing and sent her packing, threatening a restraining order if she didn't leave you alone from then on.

Dating Syla forced you to make good on that threat. Your relationship was fairly new at the time, but you liked her enough to want to keep Riri miles and miles away from her. You were at a place of contentment in your career, the need to collect a harem of women washed from your system after the nightmare of your last encounter, and peace seemed like an obtainable thing, or at least some semblance of it, with Riri gone for good.

It's what she allowed you to believe anyway, until she'd apparently had enough of watching you be happy with a woman who wasn't her.

You'd received a text composed of the same words signed across the mirror upstairs.

Did you miss me?

And it wasn't much longer before Syla was on the line, screaming obscenities at you through the phone.

“Lying bitch.”

“Cheating ass hoe.”

“Fucking slut.”

“We're Done.”

She hung up without letting you get a word of defense in, leaving you more so angry than heartbroken. Because it was undeniable that the cause of Syla's unrest and the text on your screen somehow coincided. A truth confirmed when your phone started dinging off the hook.

Riri liked to take flicks.

“To commemorate the moment.” She'd say, and it had already been discovered that telling her no wasn't a thing you could do, so you always let her pull the camera out, far too turned on by the idea of your own personal collection of home movies with Riri in your phone.

In hindsight, you should've guessed they'd come back to bite you in the ass eventually, despite Riri's accomplished skill to manipulate. How she'd managed to convince you the tapes existed in your phone alone was embarrassingly beyond you.

Because there they all were, coming through one by one as you sat on the edge of your bed, dumbfounded.

Syla had forwarded every piece of incriminating evidence that backed up her accusations to you. There were dozens of photos, dozens of videos, all of you and Riri over the year she spent in and out of your sheets. None of them recent, but that ceased to matter. Your girlfriend had seen images of your strap down Riri's throat, watched videos of her back arching impressively for you. And your words; her ears were exposed to the vulgar phrases you hissed as you fucked Riri senseless, phrases you'd never once mouthed to her in the bedroom.

Which was why your conscience scolded you so, because the hurt dampening her words that day was unmistakable for anything else. Yet, you ignored that fact in the shower, huffing Riri's name as you permitted a climax brought on by her image to rattle your bones.

You sighed, finally hitting send on the message just as the bartender approached you, “Oof, you look like you could use another one of those. My shift ends soon, but I could make you another if you'd like.”

Her name tag read Esperanza. Pretty, you thought, a pretty name for a pretty girl. Almost pretty enough to tempt a yes out of you, “Could you ask me again, preferably in an accent that isn't as attractive as yours so I can say no? Because I really, really wanna say no.”

She laughed when you groaned in frustration, rewarding you with a blinding smile that unexpectedly heated your cheeks, “I mean I could, my Swedish accent is pretty terrible, that might work. But I won't, seeing as it's in the job description to seduce guests into buying more alcohol with my voice.”

“Is it?” You questioned with a small smirk.

“Yeah. Especially the pretty American ones like yourself.”

You opened your mouth, fully prepared to retort with something equally as flirtatious, but then your phone buzzed in your palm, capturing your attention as your eyes fell to the device in hopes of seeing Syla's name lighting the screen, only to be met with disappointment.

You wanna fuck that bitch or something?

The number unknown, but the sender was far from.

“Would you excuse me?” You spoke finally and Esperanza nodded, returning to her business of cleaning the counter down.

You stood up from the stool with darting eyes, scanning the bar for any signs of her presence but to no avail. When your phone rang, you answered it without a second thought.

“Where are you?”

Soon, Riri’s permanently teasing voice chimed in your ears, “Hi baby, you miss me?”

She giggled, and you imagined her somewhere twirling her hair around her finger, smiling innocently to herself.

You huffed into the mic, already beyond irritated with her antics, “Riri, where are you?”

“Ugh, baby, why you always so hostile?”

“I told you to stop fucking calling me that.”

“Don't be mean to me. I'm sensitive, baby.” You could hear the frown in her voice, the way her tone took a dive indicating she'd been truly hurt by your words, which only annoyed you more.

“No, you're fucking crazy.” She paused, just like you'd anticipated, and you listened for her intake of breath, smirking when the faint sound of her gasp blessed you. You knew her eye twitched like it always did, you just wished you had the pleasure of witnessing it for yourself.

“I don't like that word.” Her declaration blew through the speaker cold as ice.

You dragged your hand over your face, losing the patience you barely had to begin with. “Riri, what do you want?”

“Did you see my pictures, baby?” Just like that, she did away with the chill lacing her voice, returning it to its usual chipper pitch. “Did you like them? I figured you'd need something to… relax you after your big performance. You did so well by the way, I’m proud of you.”

The thrill that shot through you from her praise would have to go ignored, because you weren't trying to deal with any of your conflicting emotions for the psychotic girl on the other end of the call. “What do you want from me?”

“You and Esperanza looked cozy flirting at the bar. Can't say I wasn't jealous, you never talk to me like that. But if you like her, I could help get y’all together, give you a helping hand and shit. Now that you single.” She giggled slightly after finishing her last sentence.

You turned, eyeing the bar once again. It was mostly empty, save for the three girls in a corner booth, the security guard posted at the door, and yourself. Esperanza had left it seemed, clocking out like she promised, leaving you alone with the ghost of Riri on your line.

You rolled your eyes, remembering how you still suffered the ramifications from the last time she felt inclined to offer a helping hand, “Your crazy ass blew up my fucking relationship and you think I want your help?”

She remained silent for a lengthy amount of time, almost tricking you into believing the line went dead. It wasn't until you were lowering the phone from your ear that she cleared her throat, and you braced yourself for impact. “She could never satisfy you and you fucking know it. You ain't even like her for real, you just wanted a new bitch laid up under you after I stopped giving you access to this pussy baby.”

If the word delusional existed as a person, her name would be Riri Williams.

“You're fucking insane do you know that? Like something is genuinely wrong with you if you think–”

Riri cut you off, “Let's not forget I wasn't alone in our little movies baby. You can't blame your fuck ass relationship failing all on me, because if I remember correctly, you was the one holding the camera while you was blowing my shit, wasn't you?”

Your throat dried, your vision reddened, and your phone shook inside your fist. You couldn't speak because there were no words to be said. “Ri–”

“You know what? I change my mind, I won't help you with Esperanza after all. I like having you to myself anyway. You still want me, and with ole girl out the picture, we can go back to how we used to be.”

“Tell me where the fuck you are Riri.” There was a thud on her end, one that you also heard inside the bar. She was definitely somewhere close.

She tsked, “Nuh-uh baby, you gotta come find me. I got a surprise for you.”

And she hung up the phone, the beep forcing an exasperated sigh from your lips as you stood hopeless in the middle of the bar.

•••

For as long as you’d known Riri, she'd always been obsessed with the never-ending game of hide and seek she trapped you in, forcing the role of being it on you every time. She wanted you scouring the hotel for her while she waited, sitting pretty in whatever cranny she'd made herself comfortable in. She wanted you to do what you always did when you inevitably smoked her out of hiding: punish her for her bad behavior.

Fuck what she wanted.

You wouldn't give in, not this time, and what better way to ensure this case than leaving the hotel entirely? It was late, the night breeze dry as the valet pulled your brand new Ferrari GTC4Lusso around the front, the street lights reflecting off its bold cherry tint. A destination was the furthest thing from your mind when you climbed inside the car, but truthfully, you didn't require one. Driving was merely a ploy to put some distance between you and Riri.

The car’s rumble when you pulled off wasn't one loud enough to drown out your screaming thoughts, much to your dismay. You’d hoped, at the very least, that the revving engine, and the openness of the endless motorway you were now zipping down recklessly, would be enough to dampen your anger. But alas, vexation was an ever-present emotion whenever you found yourself in proximity to her, or rather, when she forced proximity between the pair of you, and it didn't emerge for the reasons you wished it did.

Your adrenaline was rocketing, heart rate spiking in tandem with the numbers on the dash as your toes pushed into the pedal, but despite all this, your sour mood remained. Because you could not discredit Riri's infuriating claim; you wanted her still. You'd endured months without her, abiding by the useless lies that failed to convince you otherwise. That lust for her taste lingered, that lust for her feel, all of it.

Lust that Syla could never satiate, and you often got the sense she wasn't heedless to that truth.

“Fuck!” You cursed aloud, eyes flickering to your dinging phone screen colored in her text messages.

You almost reached for the device resting in the mount, crippling guilt once again driving your decision-making. But you reminded yourself you were behind the wheel, just as an identifiable sensation against your bobbing larynx sent a chilling shiver down your spine, and molded you still in your seat. Briefly, cautiously, you allowed your eyes to leave the road, causing the car to swerve unintentionally into another lane when your gaze became acquainted with the object pinning you down. Beautiful, black, and blinding; the razor-edged blade tacked to your flesh was accompanied by the sweetest pain, and a deeply sultry voice. “We don't text and drive, baby. Leave the bitch on delivered.”

When she spoke, it irritatingly settled your breathing, but not enough to assist you in regaining control of the steering wheel clutched in your fists. There were other cars on the road honking at your continued shifting, but what could you really do when there was an insane girl holding a knife to your throat as you drove? “Riri...”

“I told you to come find me and you didn't.” She spat harshly. Just your fucking luck, she was upset.

“Riri, Ima crash this fucking car if you don't move that shit from my throat.”

She ignored you of course, opting to press the knife in harder. If it were her goal, she could break through skin, the choking pressure indicative of the power she wielded, and in any other circumstance you'd probably be enjoying her lethal way of incapacitating you. “Why didn't you come find me? I was waiting for you.”

“I'm not finna play this game with your psychotic ass tonight Riri. I said fucking move that shit.”

Once again, your cry fell on deaf ears. She kept her hand looped around the driver's seat, knife firm in her fingers as she tightened her grip on the decorative, golden handle.

You listened to her airy exhale, flinched beneath its warmth when it plowed into your expecting cheek, and it was then that you allowed your glare to capture hers in the rearview mirror. Her lips, pouty and red-stained, twitched at the corners, morphing into a foreboding smirk that traveled straight up to her smoky eyes. Eyes that were deep, eyes that were dark, and exceedingly dangerous; like a void you were destined to forever fall victim to.

Riri launched her body forward, nibbling on your bare earlobe. “You're being mean again baby. Real mean for somebody with a knife pressed to they throat right now.”

The sting from the blade began to heighten, building into a burn so glorious, it shot through your limbs, and you found yourself inadvertently tilting your head backward to relish in the hurt.

“I could slit your fucking throat right now and you wouldn't even be quick enough to stop me.”

Words of your own were difficult to come by, you were entirely consumed with combatting the violent throb increasing in your pants, all amidst your efforts to keep you both alive in the drifting Ferrari, but it seemed your soul was the only one inside the car yearning to live another day. “Ri–”

“Just kidding!” The dagger levitated, undoing its imprint in your flesh, and you coughed, one hand instantly flying up to your bruised throat while the other remained on the wheel, regaining full control of the vehicle.

She planted a long, sloppy kiss on your cheek before climbing over into the passenger seat, giggling all the while.

“Jesus fucking Christ Riri, what the actual fuck?!” You spared her a glance, of course she was grinning.

“Were you scared for your life, baby?” She giggled again, biting her lip as she tried reaching for your phone, but you smacked her hand away before she could get to it. “Rude!”

You sighed, “How the hell did you get in here, Riri?”

“Mmm, semantics.” She huffed, seemingly bored.

You relaxed, eyes fixed back on the road now that you were somewhat confident Riri wouldn't be slicing you open. Your muscles loosened and you fell into a leisure position, tossing an irritated scowl her way. “What are you doing in London? You should be at school. Don't you have finals and shit?”

“Aww, look at you all concerned about my studies. You're so cute, baby.” You tried your hardest not to cringe at the pet name and the heat it churned inside your abdomen. “But, obviously I had to see you. You all single now, your tour just ended, and you announced that hiatus, I didn't know when I'd get the chance again. Aren't you happy I'm here?”

“Not at all.”

She frowned, “That's not funny.”

“I wasn't tryna be fucking funny, you shouldn't be here.”

You hadn't needed to see her face to know a smirk played in her features. “You didn't think that lil restraining order was gon stretch all the way across the pond did you? They don't got jurisdiction over me out here baby. I can be as close to you as I want.”

You groaned inwardly, unaware of who you were truly annoyed with; Riri and her actions, or yourself for being so damn turned on listening to her insane logic. She was correct, because you knew that her stunt with Syla wasn't a one-off, and you'd eventually be seeing her again.

Riri was immensely smart, so it made sense that she waited until you were no longer on American soil to corner you, and making you think you'd finally escaped her by being in Europe had to certainly be part of her plan as well. Fuck, why was her conniving nature so damn sexy?

“How did you get in my car?” You asked again.

“I'm not that big, and you should know by now that I'm very…” Riri paused, deliberating on the word she wished to use. “Efficient, when it comes to getting into places I probably shouldn't be in.”

“Yeah, cause you're crazy.”

You could see Riri's body turning towards you in your peripheral, she bent her knees in the seat, eyes locked on your form as she skillfully maneuvered her knife in between her digits. “You like your tongue, baby?”

“What?”

She sneered, “Your tongue. Do you like it?”

“The fuck are–”

“Cause I like your tongue. When it's inside me, when it's rolling over my clit. Yeah, I actually kinda love your tongue, and I really, really want you to keep it.” She surged forward with a quickness, almost diving the point of her ebony dagger through your jugular. “So Ima suggest you stop fucking calling me that shit, I'd hate to have to cut it out.”

All you could do was roll your eyes. “Dramatic ass.”

“And you love it.” She plopped back into the seat with a satisfied smile, extending her legs so they now rested in your lap, to which you did not protest.

Riri giggled, reaching into the bosom of her dress to retrieve a small, clear baggie harboring those circular blue pills that she loved so much. Her wet tongue awaited the tablet's arrival, extending out of her mouth in preparation for its landing. And you turned, one hand on the wheel as you watched a gradual cerulean bleed cover her tastebuds. “Want one?”

“No.” All your attention shifted back to the road and your lack of destination. You'd left the hotel to get away from Riri, yet here you were, essentially taking a fucking joyride with her after she broke into your brand-new car.

“Ugh, lame.” She stashed the pills back inside her titties, once again reaching for your phone, and this time you didn't stop her. “Can I put my song on?”

Your brow quirked, “Your song?”

Riri nodded, “Yes, my song. The song you wrote for me!”

“You think I give enough of a fuck about your deranged ass to write a song about you?” You did, write a song about her that was, a couple in fact. All of them about your reprehensible escapades with the groupie who wouldn't leave you alone, the groupie who you couldn't leave alone.

Your entanglement with Riri had managed to bypass public perception, the only thing you executed correctly when it came to her, so her name had never been in the running when the speculations of who your last album could've been about arose. You knew she'd figure it out though, because of course she would.

She kicked your thigh, causing you to smack her ankle in retaliation. “You do. I'm your muse.”

You bellowed a hearty, sarcastic laugh. "My muse? Oh, you're very unwell, Riri." She pointed the blade your way as a warning, causing you to grin triumphantly. "And which song you think I wrote about you?”

“Don't play dumb baby, you can't pull that shit off.” Riri placed your phone back into its holder, her lips curling into a bashful smile when your voice drifted from the speakers, and her song coasted the car's air.

We done played all these games,

Only now I can't wait, I want you now, I can't wait, oh yeah.

The track she chose had indeed been one she inspired. It was also one you avoided entirely, purposefully leaving it off the set list for all of your shows. But again, here you were, subjected to listening to Riri's painfully off-key rendition of the lyrics that symbolized the relationship you two shared.

But she just wanna off my head, I just want the neck instead.

She just wanna fight in bed, I wanna get high instead, oh yeah.

“You think this is about you?” You teased, only seeking to rile her up. “This could be about any of the other girls I done fucked.”

“You know I can't leavе you alone? You know I could never tell you no? Hmm, definitely sound like this is about me. Cause I know you wasn't running back to none of them other hoes like you was running back to me, let's be for real.” She continued to sing, spreading her legs in the process.

It was muscle memory that had your hand descending to her ankle perched in your lap, making you squeeze it before you began to massage it in the way only you knew she liked. And the smile that you failed to disguise when she whimpered was one of instinct, not intention.

“How many girls have you f-fucked on tour, baby?” The question straggled out of her mouth behind a breathy moan.

You hadn't wanted to award her inquiry with any sort of answer, largely in part due to the answer being one that would please her, so you elected to lie.

“A few.” You retorted with a sanguine smirk you deemed sharper than the blade she flaunted, but when your gaze panned her way, the sight awaiting you dulled your smile into a flaccid frown.

She was bunching her dress, thumbing the fabric of her underwear once the hem circled her waist. “Mmm, that's a l-lie.”

Riri made you weak, downright helpless and impotent whenever her authentic huffs of pleasure gained volume. So it wasn't the least bit surprising when her whines from beside you nabbed your attention from the freeway, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything apart from the wet sounds emitted by her dripping center.

Your eyes drifted, and you stifled a moan of your own when you realized she'd graduated from touching herself with her fingers. Riri had the blade locked in her fist, dragging the handle up, down, and around her throbbing clit above her panties.

“Riri, what are you doing?” You bit your lip, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

She slipped her sticky panties to the side, finally bridging the gap keeping the hilt of the knife apart from her eager cunt. “If you was fucking bitches I would know. Sticking to your rule I see.” You watched the tip of the handle orbit her hole, just before it slowly sank in, getting swallowed by her grip all the way up to the bolster. “F-Fuck baby, I guess this p-pussy really changed your life, huh?”

“I don't want your fucking pussy juice all over my seat. This car is new.” Your scolding tone was feigned, only in an attempt to express a fragment of restraint, but truthfully, every ounce of it slipped swiftly away from you the second you bore witness to that molly hitting her tongue.

You weren't even sure if you were driving on the right side of the road, far too fixated on keeping your composure as your fibers mastered the art of persuasion. They insisted you pull over and allow your fingers to replace the knife, have your tongue relieve the shiny gold hook of its lewd duty of fucking Riri's cunt.

She was thrashing, pumping the back end of the blade in and out, in and out as her squishy pussy sang to you. “Am I the f-first g-girl you let r-ride in your new 'Rari, baby? Ooh, I feel so special.”

“I'm not letting you, your crazy ass broke in. And I mean it, close your damn legs.”

You did the only thing you could think of to get her to stop: you pushed the pedal to the floor, the speed sucking you into the seat as the car surged forward. But beside you, Riri remained a moaning, giggling mess. It was like your accelerated driving, and your admonishments motivated her to fuck her cunt faster as she slicked the knife, making herself wetter. “Hear h-how wet this pussy is for you b-baby? You haven't even t-touched me and I'm fucking drenched. Oh, oh! Shit!”

“Do not fucking come on my seat Riri.”

“Or what? You gonna p-punish me?” She used her free hand to rub coaxing circles into her twitching clit, biting down on her lip as the tool dove deeper into her stretched hole, prodding her sensitive spot just right. “Fuck! It f-feels so good! I'm close!"

You took your eyes off the road, watching her lids droop from the pleasure building deep within, tuning in to the cry clamoring from her tightening stomach.

“Don't.” But you knew she would.

“I can't baby. I-I… Oh fuck!” She groaned, long and breathy, her back arching inward, chest bouncing rapidly from the build-up. Riri screeched the second her orgasm knocked her down, and it was the sexiest sound you'd ever heard. Droves of bliss pillaged her frail body, and she shook violently next to you. “I'm s-sorry... I-I c-couldn't.”

“It's okay.” You were soothing her as she declined from her climax.

The handle glided out of her used pussy, dragging out strings of her oozing cum with it, and the hilt glistened brighter than it did before her hole consumed it. Your quick glances from the knife to the road, from the road to Riri’s seeping cunt weren't enough, you needed to taste her, and it was apparent that she read your mind. “Wanna taste?”

You tried for reluctance, at least your brain did, your body not so much. A steady nod was your only offer, eyes never leaving the road ahead, and you could sense Riri’s grin after receiving your answer. She was excited, pleased, surprised that you gave into her off the first ask, usually she'd have to work harder to earn your compliance. She was on her knees seconds later, left hand propping her up on the center armrest while her right carried the glimmering dagger to your mouth.

She smeared the tip across your full lips, her slickness coating them like gloss, and out came your tongue, drinking in her juices like a parched animal. As always, Riri's cum tasted fucking fantastic, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of moaning. “You like?”

You remained silent, and she smirked, “You love.” She beamed, tapping your mouth, “Open wide baby.”

She was taunting you, this you knew. You were also aware that you were on the verge of doing exactly as she requested without a lick of shame, and you glared at her, unimpressed.

“Please? For me?” She whined.

You couldn't resist her pout, you couldn't resist her, not anymore. So immediately, you promptly parted your lips, offering the stem of the dagger a seat on your watering tongue, your saliva mingling with Riri's sweet, sweet nectar.

This time you did moan, and loud too, fueling her fire just like she wanted, just like you always did. You twirled your tongue around it, sucking and licking every last drop of her creamy cum off the knife handle.

“Backseat. Now.” The only words out of your mouth when she pulled the hilt free, and she clapped, climbing over you as you smacked her ass before pulling the car over on the side of the highway.

•••

“Bend over.” You tried tearing your lips from hers as you spoke, but Riri snagged your bottom lip between her teeth, biting fiercely while her cunt brushed your lap. She kept her eyes on yours, smirking, wanting you to behold the peril swallowing her pupils when she slipped the point of her blackened blade between the buttons of your shirt. She dragged it down, the sharp knife popping each one clean off until your top flew open under her swift slicing.

Your own eyes twinkled encouragingly; you were far too into this; you always enjoyed those seldom moments when you permitted Riri's belief that she held the upper hand.

The tip of her pointed dagger grazed the valley of your unbound breasts, their exposure earning her marvel as she used the bountiful view to aid her desperate humps against your thigh. And you could hear her pussy, you could feel the sticky puddle created by streaks of her first climax seeping through her thin underwear. Her moans were so broken and docile, it almost seemed criminal to make her stop, but you needed her splayed across you.

“You gon make me say it again, mami? You know how I like you.”

With fogged-out eyes, she nodded, stealing one more kiss and shoving the knife into your palm before stretching her small body across the extended center column. Her plump ass elevated to eye level, and you sat back to enjoy the view presented to you.

Lace complimented her skin's deepness far too well. The material embraced her curves, molding to her hips like a second skin, and you nearly let guilt get the better of you for the actions that followed. Your movement was one of speedy precision as you slashed through the bottom half of Riri's dress with the blade she awarded to you, making her gasp.

“This good baby? This how you wanted me?” She backed up a little, seeking some sort of comfort and it clicked then, that this position must be an awkward one for her with the armrest slanting her, and jabbing right into her abdomen.

You bit your swollen lip, moaning from the sweet pain left behind by Riri’s incisors. “Mhmm,” The blade's handle trailed her sticky crotch, “Just like this mami.”

In seconds, you were cutting her cunt free from her messy underwear, kneading and jiggling her exposed ass cheeks in your hot hands. But your pace wasn't up to her liking, and Riri never shied away from voicing her opinion. “You moving too fucking slow. If you gon hi–”

Before her complaint could force its end out of her mouth your palm collided with the meat of her ass, hitting her with unruly force. Her body jerked on top of you, and she yelped, the fragile screech music to your ears. “What you was saying, mami?”

Riri groaned under the rush of pain, then exhaled, and you took this as your opportunity to slap her behind again.

As you ran your hand along her bare skin, you absorbed the heat drummed up from your two hits alone, chuckling. You skimmed the area with your nails, growing more excited watching her twitch. You'd almost forgotten how hopelessly responsive her body was to your touch, even under the faintest brush of it.

“You're a fucking problem.” You slammed an open palm up against her right cheek, smiling at the ripples the collision created in her skin. “Do you even know what you do to me?”

Of course she knew how her actions dictated your decisions, how her guise plagued every divot in your brain. Riri understood her power over you, and it was this very knowledge that had you spanking her again, and again, and again.

“H-Harder!”

Her ass was hot, sore, and damn near swollen. Her tears were heavy streams rolling from her eyes and into her gaping mouth, yet still, she desired more. A resilient little thing she was; you admired her moxie. With every lash, her sopping pussy called on your digits, needing them to plug the dribbling hole expanding the wet patch already existing on your thigh.

“You like that shit don't you? Being in pain?” Your handprint painted her butt cheek, pulling a guttural scream from her throat. “That scream wasn't an answer to my question mami.”

She was full-on bawling, blubbering in your lap when your fingers forced their way inside her cunt unexpectedly, and she lurched.

She sniffled. “Yes! I l-like it!”

“Then shut the fuck up and stop fucking crying.” You smacked her tired ass for the umpteenth time, sliding your fingers through her soaked folds, coating them with all the slick you could collect before ramming them back within her welcoming walls. “You asked for this shit, and you gon take it like the slut you are.”

“Y-You hit like a b-bitch.”

You spanked her once, twice, three times, four times, five; each hit reprimanded her unacceptable behavior as she sobbed with the brown seat leather aching between her shaking fingers.

She wiggled in your grip, wanting desperately to escape the hurtful blows that just kept coming, smack after smack after smack echoing throughout the car. “Not you tryna run Ri, thought I hit like a bitch. Nah, bring that ass back here.” You laughed.

“Please!” Each of her screams made you fuck her pussy faster, encouraged you to slap her ass harder just to revel in her burning skin as Riri cried herself to the edge of her second orgasm.

You pushed up against her nerves, thumb swatting brashly against her swollen clit. “You squeezing my fingers real tight mami, that must mean you finna come.”

“I'm, I'm…” Riri kicked her feet, whining around the deepness of your digits. When she glanced back at you your heart softened just a little. Her big brown eyes were blown the fuck out, leaking fat tears and mascara that seemed never-ending, and she chewed on her lip hoping the action would alleviate some of the hurt. “C-Com…”

Your thrusts slowed, and your hits morphed into a massage as you groped her cheeks tenderly. “Yeah, give it to me, come on my fingers, come all over them.”

“Ooh, baby you f-fucking me s-so good! I’m coming for you!”

She poked her ass out, twisting from side to side as she permitted spasming shocks of pleasure to surge throughout her body at a rapid pace, still backing up into your digits that had yet to depart her hole. “That's it, fuck yourself on my fingers Ri. Show me you can be a good girl, fuck yourself through it.”

It was a difficult thing you’d tasked her with, but luckily for her, Riri thrived off hardship. When the aftershocks subsided, her movements halted and she sighed, moaning low in her throat at the gentle pace in which you extracted your digits from inside her.

“Sit up and come taste it.” You commanded, rolling your eyes when she looked back at you weakly.

With your hand inching toward the hair hanging over her sweaty back, you looped the ends in your fist, yanking her body up until she shifted, then you turned her so her sore ass could plummet right onto the slim storage compartment she was just bent over. “I said sit up.”

Her naked cheeks being forced against the car’s leather prematurely earned you a painful cry. But you didn't care, the reaction only adding to your arousal. You used her parted, wincing lips as an opportunity to stuff her swollen mouth full of your cum covered fingertips, and she gagged from the intrusion before beginning a light suckle. “That's my good girl. Suck them clean for me. You like how you taste?”

“Mhmm.” She hummed around the digits you thrusted in and out of her mouth.

“I know, mami.” You moaned, feeling your clit jump in your pants. “Open your legs, lemme taste that pussy I just made come.”

Riri giggled, separating her sticky legs to grant your salivating tongue entrance. They made a loud squish when she spread them apart, and you could hardly contain your grunt when presented with her messy, bare, pussy lips; your drug of choice. Her cunt's shine danced like diamonds, entrancing you with a beaming glow that could not go ignored. “Shit…”

You reached out for the lever on the driver's side that pushed the seat forward, never once denying yourself face time with her spilling sex. And then you were dropping to your knees, licking your lips before burrowing open-mouth kisses into her sprawled, wet thigh.

Easing her into it failed to make your list of priorities, you wanted her wriggling, squirming with her legs trembling around your face as you slurped her folds. You were also on a mission to feed the starvation gnawing at your gut; it'd been too long since you last feasted on her, and you didn't plan on letting a single drop go to waste.

Your tongue nudged her pulsing clit, licking firmly before you wrapped your thirsty lips well around it, and Riri screeched. “W-Wait baby, wait… Ooh shit.”

And so it began, her pleas for a pause, for you to slow down and allow her to regain her strength. But sadly, her wants were of no importance to you. You trudged on, running your famished tongue around her sweet hole before slipping it all the way in. Riri tapped your head aggressively when you began a slow thrust through her aching walls, and you laughed when your eyes drifted up to see her scrunched face.

“Fuck! Oh.. w-wait..”

“What I'm waiting for Ri? You getting soft on me?”

It was apparent that your comment struck the nerve you intended it to, her huff of annoyance lighting a smile across your face. You refused to let up, licking and sucking the length of her leaking core as she jerked in between broken grumbles. “Ain't nobody s-soft. Eat it r-right and I won't have no c-complaints. Fuck!”

You simply shook your head before diving back into her pussy, rolling her clit in your tongue once more. She whined, the drugs in her system clearly heightening her stimulation, but she took it like a champ, moaning your name breathlessly from above you with her head thrown back.

Riri fisted your curls as you sucked her watering cunt, whimpering where she sat, hips rolling hard into your already stuffed mouth. “Yes! Yes! Just like that!”

“Fuck, I missed this pussy so much.”

“Yeah?” She huffed, tugging your hair to detach you from her center so your stares would align.

Wild eyes scanned your drenched face over, then she tilted your chin, boring straight through your soul with her hopeful gaze. “You missed me?”

You knew what she wanted, and you were fully prepared to give it to her.

“Yes.” Your answer elated her. It didn't matter that in your mind you were admitting to missing her cunt and the way it drooled cum right onto your accepting tongue, to Riri you were confessing to something far more intimate; to Riri you were confessing that you missed her.

The one word, the yes, was enough to bring her to the brink of her third orgasm. But she wouldn't win that easily. You stopped then, just as she was about to fall over the edge, and you let her saturated labia fall freely from your lips before smirking up at her through plotting pupils.

“The fuck are you doing? I was about to come!”

“Ion know, it don't seem like you want it enough.” You teased, making her whine in annoyance. “Need you to beg.”

You'd learned fairly early on that Riri Williams was not a girl easily deterred. With your refusal to allow her release, the job fell on her to complete. Carefully, Riri began to drag her puffy pussy along the lid of the storage compartment she was perched on, hissing in both pain and pleasure as she attempted to make herself come.

You watched her, forever wonder-strickenn by her fortitude. You should stop her, she’d already undergone one orgasm that didn't come from your hands or mouth, and you didn't want that happening again, but the image of her working through the pain brought on by her sore ass cheeks creating friction against the leather was a sight to behold.

“I’m so c-close! Please can I come?!” Her hands found her erect nipples, the standing nubs threatening to rip their way out of her dress. “Please, let me come!”

Her pussy sloshed against the column, her hip jolts splashing her wetness everywhere. Granting her permission would be easy, considering how badly you wanted to enclose her clit in between your lips again, have her juices course your veins like your own personal brand of ecstasy as she convulsed from the shock waves you caused to ripple throughout her body. But you weren't looking for easy, not tonight, not after her behavior.

Your fingers located her waist, holding her still and making her groan in frustration when your strength prohibited her humping. “Mm, do you deserve it?”

“Yes I fucking deserve it!” She yelled, irritated, “Let me fucking come oh my god!”

“That mouth mami. How you gon talk to me like that and think Ima let you come? Hmm?” You parted her thighs, nuzzling your face back into the sweaty space before planting a kiss on her hot skin. “Say you're sorry.”

“No!”

You'd predicted her protest, and you took it as your opening to sink your teeth into her pretty waist. You didn't stop amidst her wails, instead, you dove deeper, biting her flesh with more ferocity. “Say you're sorry Ri.”

Still, she shook her head, standing her ground.

Fuck, you loved how stubborn she was, but you'd never admit that out loud. Luck had been on her side it seemed, because she gave in merely seconds ahead of you puncturing skin, weeping through her words. “I'm s-sorry! I'm s-sorry, baby pl-ease let me come!”

Truthfully you were in awe of how long she held out, surprised by even your own restraint with her pussy lips shoved directly in your face. You were spitting on her bud soon after, suckling her bundle of nerves harshly as you hummed into her quivering sex. “Come in my mouth mami.”

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Within seconds of your go-ahead, Riri was gushing onto your face, your seats, squirting on everything in her vicinity with a scream so powerful, the hairs on your neck rose to attention.

“Shit Ri, you made a mess all over my fucking seats. I told you this car is new.”

She awarded you a weak chuckle, on the edge of collapse before you steadied her frail body. “You think I give a damn, baby? You can clean all that shit up with your mouth if you so bothered.”

Her smirk was a thing contrived of pure, unbridled deception, and she sported the smoky eyes to match. These were reasons to incite terror, but for you, they only bustled your intrigue.

•••

The blade danced beneath the strap of Riri's dress, leisurely cutting her shoulder free and you watched from in front of her as the frayed fabric fell gracefully away from her skin. “You putting a lot of power in my hands right now Ri.”

“Mhmm. What you gon do with it baby?”

You moved to the other, repeating your destructive motion before finally positioning the gold-trimmed point at her clavicle, gliding the jagged dagger down her chest. Thread after thread bursted under your descent, doing away with everything left of her torn gown, exposing more of Riri's tender flesh.

Riri watched, bewitched by the way you skillfully maneuvered the blade she'd entrusted to you. “You so fucking pretty mami.”

Words that made her brazen, words that bestowed upon you the power to control her body without the need of a weapon. But you used it still, grazing the edge up her bare stomach as she twitched beneath its scrapes. You stopped once you met her bra, slicing it clean down the middle with your lust-filled eyes glued to hers. Riri gasped, startled by your abruptness and the twinge of danger you knew she caught swimming in your irises when her boobs bounced free, and the small baggie of pills fell from its warm hiding spot.

“You sure you don't want one?” She waved it in your face, and you began to contemplate her question. Riri was no stranger to a pill or two, so her enthusiasm hadn't been a surprise. She always offered, and you always declined, more than content with the natural high you floated on from merely making her come undone for you.

Tonight though, something about the tension building in the car was about to coerce a yes right on out of you. But, something else thieved your attention just as you were about to offer her an answer.

Letters. A word. A name. Your name.

Inscribed into her flesh, squarely below her left breast sitting gorgeously in your face, was a tattoo illustrating your name. You blinked, believing you'd somehow imagined the ink and its placement. Unconsciously, you hoisted the knife up toward the tattoo, running the dagger along each and every letter in amazement.

“Do you like it, baby?” Meek words leaving generally poised lips.

Riri had marked herself in your name, in you. And you decided you did indeed like it, you loved knowing that no matter where she ventured, no matter whose fingers wandered her skin, your claim on her would still exist. Permanently. “This my surprise? Cause yeah, I do like it mami.”

You let your lips replace the blade, kissing the tattoo that exemplified your ownership of her body as she giggled from the heat your breath blew onto her.

“Not your main surprise, but I guess it's a s-surprise.”

Soon your lips were latched to her poking nipple, your tongue swirling and tugging on it. She was moaning, a sound that intensified when she felt the sharp jab of the weapon you wielded circle her other bejeweled nub. “Shit… that hurts so damn good baby. Keep it right there.”

Her whimpers traveled directly to your sopping pussy still locked away in your pants. You were swimming in your own wetness, floating atop a wave that threatened to crash down on you the longer you dragged the same knife she held to the column of your throat around her responsive tits. “Yeah? It hurts?”

“L-Love when you make me hurt baby.”

After letting go of her spit-covered nipple, you flattened the sharp tool against it, watching her hiss under the cool contact. You scuffed the steel bar poking through her pebbled nipple with the knife, humming on key with the scraping sound of metal on metal. “I can keep hurting you, or you can give me that surprise I know you want me to have so bad.”

You aligned the pretty dagger with her sweaty neck, and she grinned menacingly. Before the chance to process her guile even arose, Riri regained control of the knife, using it to assist her in widening your mouth. She wiped the back against your tongue, swiping it down the length of your wet muscle. “Your surprise is up next, in the meantime I need you to stick this tongue out for me before I cut it clean off like I promised.”

“You're cute.” You laughed, but you did as she said. Your tongue extended out, and Riri leaned forward, plopping one of her little happy pills directly in the center, waiting for you to swallow it.

“Extraordinary.” She smirked. And then her lips were on yours, kissing you roughly as she sat her naked form in your lap.

•••

Riri attacked your lips with gusto, kissing you like the air you expelled into her was the very breath she desired for survival, and every one of your pecks matched her intensity. “Baby, lemme make you feel good.”

She broke the kiss slowly, tentative in her release of your hot, wanting mouth. But you refused to let her go, holding and compressing her throat amidst her hand fumbling around on the floor. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm…” A second attempt to pull away made you curious as to what she could be searching for. Usually, her main method of action would be to eat you out until your quaking knees detained her head in their hold, and even then she'd still refuse to let up. But that didn't seem to be her intention here.

You groped her boobs, trying your hardest to pinch one of her sparkly nipples, but yet another threat was tossed your way. This time it was your fingers in jeopardy of severance, so you let her go with a deep chuckle. She leaned to the side, pulling her backpack free from under the front seat and you looked at her inquisitively.

Riri upheld her silence, unzipping the bag from her perched position in your lap.

“What–”

Your question hadn't the chance to escape your lips, because soon the lavender glint of the sizable toy Riri used in the photos dispersed across your bathroom counter reflected in your curious eyes. “Tada!”

“Riri what is that?”

“Um, the fuck does it look like?” She tossed you the harness, worming out of your lap and onto the floor in between the driver's seat and the one you sat in now. Your eyes raked the dildo, examining its shape and the intricacies put into its creation. It looked more… advanced than the ones you were used to, an observation that awakened your fascination.

Riri on the other hand, appeared beyond excited. She fumbled with your belt impatiently before deciding to hack at it with her sharp tool. She popped your button open, and mechanically, your hips levitated so she could guide your bottoms down your legs.

“You this wet and you was talm bout some you not happy to see me. Just be lying for no reason baby.” She laughed, tracing a finger over your pulsating clit and you sighed. With all the straining, and all the buildup you'd been suffering through, that lone stroke could've been enough to do you in, a fact Riri was privy to when she smiled up at you. “Strap up baby, need you inside me.”

You wasted no time assembling the strap and securing the toy in place, and with Riri’s help, the harness was adjusted to your body. She positioned herself across the center console for a second time, sticking her ass out as you kneeled behind her in the seat, admiring the display of her used hole. She backed up onto nothing, trying, and failing to get the tip inside on her own. “You're taking too long! Please, I need you!”

Fuck, you supposed by now Riri's unwavering stamina shouldn't be a thing that caused bewilderment, but it would forever be an entertaining sight. She was sexiest like this; eager; desperate for you to destroy her. “You need it so bad, don't you mami?”

“Yes! Please fuck me!”

She needed not to state her demand again, so you snaked your palm around the tip, pumping it gently before invading Riri's soaked cunt.

The instant you bottomed out, Riri trapped the strap inside her narrowing walls, restricting your movement at the same time your eyes began to roll to the back of your mind. Her wetness, her constricting tightness, the heat derived from stretching her velvety cunt wide; you could feel all of her. It was way too overwhelming, the stimulation weakening your muscles.

You hadn't even gotten a single stroke in and you were already fighting off an orgasm, gripping firmly to her hips in hopes of stopping your collapse. “W-What– Why can– Ri, I can f-feel you. Shit…”

You remained still for a few beats, wanting, needing to savor the snugness of Riri’s warmth before drilling her as she deserved. Her squeeze was intense enough to make your eyes well just a little, and you were certain whenever you did allow that pleasure rush to stifle you, the tears would be unavoidable.

“Surprise! You like it, baby? I made it special for you.”

Of course she made it. You pulled out slowly, then pushed back in, still consumed by the sensation, barely able to keep a steady rhythm as you rocked into her dribbling pussy. “Fuck Ri, this is…”

“Shit! Tell me how good my pussy feels, I'm tight, huh?” Your stamping fingers dented her skin as you began to create a rapidly growing pace of stuffing her full of the faux dick she craved so much, and your thrusts had her quaking around you. Feeling every divot in her pussy walls had only ever been a fantasy, one that existed now as your reality, because you unknowingly chose to fuck a super genius who just so happened to be a little off her rocker.

If you thought you were addicted to her cunt before, this strap just changed the game entirely.

You were fucking her with abandon once completely adjusted, snapping into her again and again with an unrelenting grip on her hips; you’d be admiring the marks you left behind later on. Each thrust sent Riri’s small body forward on the armrest, her cries meshing with your breathy moans that fogged the car windows. “Ooh mami, you so fucking tight. Your crazy ass really made a strap so I can feel this pussy, god.”

Your hips crashed into her bouncing ass cheeks, the impact forcing rushed whines out of her throat. You couldn't tell if the sounds were intended to be words, but truthfully you didn't care, far too enraptured by the feeling of fucking her obnoxiously loud cunt.

Every thrust caused her seeping pussy to squish louder, every squish making your clit thump faster as your high began its heightening.

“Your desperate ass always so damn wet for me, I bet you don't let nobody else fuck you, huh? You know I’m the only one who can treat this pussy right.”

She groaned, attempting to speak through your abusive jolts, “Don't f-flatter yourself, I let plenty of other people hit. This ain't y-your p-pussy.”

It was a trap, an obvious one designed to rile you up, but you chose to fall victim anyway, using the molly floating in your bloodstream to control the power dives you took into her tired little cunt. “Oh it ain't?”

She couldn't even speak with the tip of the strap bludgeoning her sensitive nerves, but she still shook her head defiantly. Riri’s hole gobbled up the girthy toy impressively as you leaned back to marvel at the way it disappeared, then reemerged from inside her convulsing walls.

“Why she leaking this much then? Messing up my fucking seats. So damn wet mami.” You slammed into her cervix. “You make special straps for all them other bitches? You let them slut your nasty ass out on the highway like this? Who else you let use your needy little pussy like this?”

Riri was sobbing, loud and boisterous, almost able to give your screaming fans a run for their money with her pitiful little sounds. A few cars honked on their drive past your parked vehicle, certainly aware of the goings on inside. The Ferrari rocked in tandem with your jabs into Riri’s g-spot, the back and forth motion assisting you in pushing deeper into the smaller girl's sex.

“You hear me talking to you don't you Ri?” A deliberate slap met her welted ass cheek, forcing her to scream. “Why you so quiet? This wet ass pussy louder than that fucking mouth right now. You hear that?”

You fucked her harder, grunting loudly into the air when she squeezed your shaft; she was close.

“Pl-ease!”

“This dick shutting you up or something? Pl-ease what?” You mocked, spanking her again, and rattling her entire being.

She pushed back on the unrelenting curved member digging her out, a whimpering mess when she glanced back at you, catching your eyes with her helpless ones. “Wan– Wanna c-come! M-Make this pussy come for you!”

You tsked, “Thought this wasn't my pussy though. Can't make you come if this ain't my pussy.”

Her broken voice made your cock twitch deep inside her, something you hadn't expected and couldn't control.

“M’sorry, it's yours! M'sorry, it's your pussy b-baby, pleaseee!” She cried, squirming as you rammed into her special spot.

“Fuck… What you sorry for Ri?” You tugged on her locs.

You freed one of her hips, looping your hand under her sweaty abdomen so your digits could press into her clit. God, it was too much for her, the endless pounding, the swift flicking of her bud, the jarring hair pulling. You were barely able to move inside her contracting cunt, but you weren't letting her off that easily. “Tell me what you sorry for.”

“All of it, baby all of it! Sorry for s-sending those videos to y-your girlfriend, s-sorry for breaking into your room, your car, s-sorry for hurting that girl at the bar! I'm sor–”

Your thrusts stopped, “You did what?”

“I didn't mean t-to…”

Cautiously, you pulled the strap from inside her reluctant cunt, falling back into the dampened, sticky seat in disbelief.

And Riri followed you, outwardly panicked when she dropped into your lap. She hung her head in shame as she rambled, wanting to explain herself. “She was just flirting with you and you were flirting back, and I didn't like that, cause you're mine, and–”

You thought back to the bar, to Esperanza, to the thud you heard when you were on the phone with Riri earlier, and you tilted her chin so she could look you in the eyes. “Riri… what did you do to her?”

A sound you hadn't expected, but most certainly should've anticipated rumbled out of her: a chilling chuckle. Gone was her frown, in its place stretched a smile that accentuated her unruly eyes. And of course, her seductive response to your pressing question was not an adequate answer. “Put it back in baby, or I’ll fucking bleed you dry.”

You smirked, teasing her clit with the head of the strap. “Crazy girl.”

Damn her, you shouldn't be enjoying this, but you became smitten with the idea of her hurting someone all because she wanted you to herself. It was sick, you were sick, maybe just as sick as her.

Her pussy was dripping onto your dick, coating the length of it with each grind meant to coax you back into fucking her, and it was certainly working.

Riri brought her trusty blade back up to your throat. She pressed in harder this go ‘round, threatening to drag it along your skin, and you were prepared to let her. She leaned in, her breath a warm ghost kissing you instead of her lips. “How many times do I have to tell you I really, really hate that fucking word. Stop saying it.”

“Would you prefer insane?” You clipped back, spitefully teasing as Riri quite literally held your life in her hands. You should be terrified, the bitch was deranged enough to kill you, but the feeling coursing through you was more akin to fear's distant cousin — thrill.

“I'm not crazy,” You could feel the knife's indentation, and your throat bobbed beneath it. “I'm not insane.” She was gliding the dangerous tool against your neck now, and you felt your skin tear, small streaks of warm blood rolling down your tilted neck, catching Riri's wild eyes.

“I just know what I want, and I always get it.”

You moaned, still rubbing up against her overly used clit, head spinning as you reveled in the heat of your crimson liquid staining your chest and Riri's.

Riri lowered the knife, pecking your cheek lovingly before extending her tongue to the shallow little cut she drew into your neck, running it along the length and licking the beautiful blood decorating the area. “And right now I want you to let me ride you, want you to slam into me and punish me for all the bad things I’ve done. I deserve it.”

The head of the toy was still trapped in your fist, twitching from Riri’s every word. You glided it through her crying folds, brushing her hole but not quite shoving your way inside, and she whined.

“Don't p-play. Please just f-fuck me baby.”

And that was all it took for you to slam up into her hovering hole, bullying your way inside her walls as she screamed from the intrusion. “Fuck! Just like that! Keep fucking this pussy like that! Go deep baby, make me take it!”

“This how you want it Ri? You want me to fuck this greedy pussy like this?” Your violent pumps shook her, and she slapped her open palm up against the window to keep herself upright, the knife clattering to the floor. “Use that nasty mouth and answer me when I fucking speak to you.”

But how could she?

Your hands needed something to grab onto as her addictive heat consumed every inch of your dick yet again, nearly rendering you unconscious, so naturally, they gravitated to her neck.

Your fist was strangling her throat, blocking her airflow and her ability to say words. You used her neck to pull her down onto the throbbing member ravaging her tight wetness, enjoying the melody performed by her pussy far more than any of your own.

Shit, you were going to come, and from the feel of things, you were going to unload inside her. An unfamiliar sensation began to brew inside your abdomen, a tightness you knew well, but tucked behind it was something far more rattling, and you weren't prepared for it at all.

“Ooh mami, I'm finna– I think I'm–”

She tapped your stifling fist, unable to breathe and you let her go so she could cough. “I-Inside… do it ins-side!”

And oh fuck, you felt it, the hunger that Syla had never once been able to truly feed. Riri could though, her strangling pussy walls could do that and more.

Your vision went white, and you were quite certain every star in the galaxy resided behind your welling eyelids. Ropes of your release spilled into her accepting cunt, filling her so much, everything that didn't fit leaked right back out and onto your already filthy seats.

“Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuck!”

“Tell me you love me.” She continued to bounce on the strap. You were so sensitive, you could barely take it, but you tunneled your fingertips into her ass cheeks anyway, aiding her as she rode you through your orgasm.

Riri leaned in, kissing your dry lips, “Say it. Tell me.”

“I love you…” You didn't mean it, not in the way she hoped you did. You never meant it when she made you say it, but it made her happy in the moment, and it made her flood your dick, so you always obliged.

With her pussy drowning in cum, hers and your own, she gingerly eased the strap from inside her, slithering onto the floor to wearily envelop your twitching dickhead in her swollen lips, but your ringtone stopped her.

“It's your girlfriend.” She chuckled jeeringly when she turned to read the name flashing your phone screen in the front.

“Let the bitch go to voicemail.” Your final words before you felt Riri swallow you whole, slobbering on the dildo as she permitted your second load to trickle down her throat.

•••

Serenity swaddled you while you lay there, helpless, following Riri's skillful performance with her mouth and jaw. You were still as the unbound night outside the steamy car windows, watching through drooping, fucked out eyes as Riri climbed into the driver's seat. She revved life back into the Ferrari's engine, stealing you, and driving you off to a destination unknown.

#riri williams x black!reader #riri williams x reader #riri williams fanfic #riri williams x black!fem!reader #riri williams x y/n #riri williams smut #mcu riri williams #riri williams x fem!reader #riri williams #ironheart x black!reader #ironheart x reader #ironheart #ironheart x y/n #ironheart fanfic #dominique thorne #dominique thorne fanfic #lyricswriting #my works #riri x black!reader #riri smut #Spotify #riri x reader #riri x you #riri black panther #black panther wakanda forever #bpwf #sub!riri #bottom!riri

[fallingdownhell]

I have been trying to stock up a collection of puppy hybrid reader fics and you're my next victim 😈 /j

Anyways as you know spring/summer season is coming around and that means heat seasons.

May I ask for a genshin character reacting to your heat cycle spontaneously arriving? (With either Kaeya, Diluc, or Zhongli please)

Don't worry, I am willingly becoming a victim. I do not mind.

Characters Included: Zhongli; Diluc

Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; suggestive and smutty content ahead; puppy!hybrid!reader; heat cycles; mentions of penetration; mentions overstimulation; creampie; fingering; not proofread yet

Word count: 1,6k words

To all the fellow thirsty ones... Enjoy<3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Zhongli

Seeing as he was once a dragon himself, he would have his own heat/rut cycles coming up

since the two of you have been together for some time, being mated for a few years now, your cycles have adjusted to another so they come around the same time every year

you both know by now how to read the signs of the upcoming season and how to best prepare for it

most times, you go out and buy some groceries and food that will last you for a week (or sometimes even longer), while Zhongli takes care and preparing your home, starting on a nest and stuff like that

you both respectively take the time off from work so no one has to worry about that, though for Zhongli it's often a bit more difficult thanks to the lack of employees at the Funeral Parlor

this time however, is different

you didn't get any of you usual signs that your heat was about to hit you. Nothing at all

yet you woke up this morning, your husband having left for work already, and you immediately knew what was up

your entire body felt hot and filled with such intense need, you almost couldn't control yourself

You started panting, thrashing around the bed, debating on what to do, when suddenly the bedroom door was slammed open, Zhongli standing in there, panting as well, a wild and hungry look in his eyes

He walked over to the bed, his eyes fixed on you and he was immediately over you, kissing you harshly

"Z-Zhongli! W-why-!"

"Forgot something.. wanted to grab it.. smelled your scent. It's early, right?"

Instead of an answer, the only aound that left your lips was a needy whimper as you started grinding against his thigg, trying to get some friction

He growled at you, basically ripping the clothes off of you and himself, then immediately latched onto your neck, sucking and biting one mark after the other, marking you as his property

Your tail started wagging rapidly as Zhongli's nails dug into your hips, holding you in place, not letting you move

You whined as he denied you the pleasure you got from grinding on him, clawing on his back, probably scratching it open but you didn't care

You felt so hot, you just needed some form of relief

"Li, please!", you practically screamed, your heat now fully here, as you tried resisting his grip

Then, two of his long fingers plunged into your hole, making you scream out in pleasure at the sudden intrusion. Yes, it was unexpected, but it just felt too good to finally be filled with something

You moaned shamelessly, throwing your head around against the pillows, taking in your husbands scent

Your moans turned him on even more. Growling again, he pulled you into another harsh, passionate kiss, then pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty inside

You almost wanted to cry from the lack of stimulation, but then the next second, you felt his tip against your hole

Before you could say anything, he pushed himself inside in one long thrust. Your head flew back, your eyes rolling back into your skull as your nails dug into hus shoulders

You let out a scream of pleasure, closing your legs around his waist

Words were no longer comprehensable to you, but when you moved your hips against his, he got the message and started moving

His thrusts were long and hard, but still set in a quick pace

It didn't take long for you to orgasm, since you always got far more sensitce during your heat

You came as he was still plunging into you, he felt your walls squeeze tight around his cock. He almost came himself, but he managed to hold back, helping you ride out your high as much as possible

Your body was already starting to tremble from overstimulation, since Zhongli never once stopped moving

It was always like that during that time. Both of you got so needy, horny and insatiable. You alwaya had to force breaks to sustain your bodies with food and water, but those breaks never lasted long before you fell over each other again like animals

Your heat arriving early may have been unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome. Especially since your scent and hormones triggered something within Zhongli, triggering his own rut/heat to arrive early as well, so he could satisfy you with everything you might desire

Zhongli did feel a bit bad that he didn't get a chance to tell his boss that he wouldn't be coming back for at least a week, but when you startes clenching around his cock again, those worries quickly got pushed to the back of his mind so that he could start thrusting into you yet again...

Diluc

Oh boy.. this man is so intrigued by your unique features

Constantly asked you questions about it as you started dating, askig about what was okay to him to touch and what wasn't

Was really hesitant when you first offered him to scratch your ears or pet your tail

Even more nervous when you had sex for the first time. He accidentaly brushed his hand against your tail and he got so scared when you let out a whine at the touch. You had to explain to him that it just felt good and that he did not hurt you

Takes some time but eventually gets the hang of it. Now, he really enjoys to pat your ears or pull slightly on your tail during sex now, and you don't complain about it, since it brings you great pleasure

The first time your heat came around when being with him, you set him down weeks in advance amd explained everything to him

He was a bit shocked about the entire concept, even more so that it affected you as a hybrid as well. But he's more than willing to help you out, since he's your boyfriend after all. And he did, in fact, a very good job..

Now, it was in the middle of the night, yet you woke up, panting and sweating like crazy. At first, you didn't think much of it, maybe you just needed a glass of cold water

So you got up and went down into the kitchen to do just that. But when the water didn't help, you started to get a familiar feeling...

But that couldn't be! You should have another two weeks before your heat woukd start!

But then your body grew even hotter, you got more needy and all you could think about was Diluc, blissfully sleeping in your shared bed

Well... even if you couldn't believe it, you couldn't deny the facts. Your heat has indeed arrived early

You immediately made your way back into the bedroom you shared with Diluc

You felt slightly bad for waking him up, but a larger part within you didn't care about that, only wanting to be filled and fucked right now

As soon as you got there, you climbed on top of Diluc, pulling the covers off of him, grinding against his leg

"Diluc!", you whined amd that, paired with the harsh movement against his body, managed to wake him up

It took him a few seconds to fully wake up, but once he was, his look was both confused and slightly paniced

"(Name)? What's wrong? You're burning up!"

"My heat.. it's early. Please 'luc, I need you!"

Your voice was high pitches and needy, completely different from usual. Luckily for you, Diluc caught on quite fast

Before you knew it, your back was pressed against the mattress and ge was above you, already working on removing both of your clothes

He reached down, wanting to stretch you with his fingers a bit

"No! Please, just.. put it in! I need your cock in me!"

He looked at you for a few seconds, but then only a deep sigh came out and the next second, you coukd already feel his tip pressing up against your hole

He thrusts into you, slowly, allowing you to get used to his size

Once he bottomed out, he wanted to give you a few moments to breath, but you wouldn't have that

You started moving your hips against him, and Diluc lost it at that

Before you knew it, he manhandled you into a doggystyle position and thrust into you from behind, already aetting a rough and fast pace

One hand gripped around your throat from behind, the other grabbed the base of your tail. You cried out in pleasure as he rammes into you, not able to utter even a single word

He held your head high with his hand around your throat, his thrusts never slowing down as he begann nibbling on your neck, soon biting down into the flesh gently

You cried out as you came around his cock, your walls clamping down on him, squeezing him tight

It was too much for him and he came as well, shooting his load deep inside of you

His hips slowed down, letting the both of you ride out the waves of pleasure, before he came to a hold, yet his cock remained inside of you

He knew from the last time just how insatiable you could get when in your heat. And it seemed that this time was no different

Only a few seconds later, you started moving your hips again, begging for him to move

And really, he had no other choice but to oblige, feeling how he was already growing hard again, to fulfill your widh of him pumping you full with his seed..

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact x reader smut #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli headcanons #zhongli x reader smut #zhongli smut #zhongli #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc headcanons #diluc smut #diluc x reader smut

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hello it’s me again! It’s been a while, I hope you’ve been doing okay. I recently have been reading through a lot of angst to comfort and I have an idea for a request!

May I request an Ike fic where reader is a liver in NIJISANJI and has a crush on Ike but knows they have no chance with him. Then one day reader accidentally spills their feelings to Ike and Ike comforts them after hearing about readers feelings?

I hope you’re not tired of me requesting Ike fics (ily him to much) and I hope you have a good day/night! <3

-🖋️

stars above your skin

oh 🖋 we're really in it now

how long have i had this request in my inbox? early march? and now exactly one day after blue light dropped, i give you a ~19.5k word ike fic. much love and effort has gone into this one, only seconded by the massive amounts of brainrot.

so yeah, i'm not tired of ike requests. i'm literally a quilldren that writes fanfic. this is the opposite of a problem

in fact this might be one of my favorite things i've written... the second half is such a good bedtime story for me...!

this is going to get NASTY to read on tumblr—as in my site is lagging so hard just typing these a/n notes. so i'm going to remind you all that not only is liking/reblogging recommended to keep track of this fic, but also that i have an ao3 account (same name as url but without dashsince it's much more accessible than tumblr for long fic. i recommend reading on tumblr if you can because of some formatting but to each their own!

here’s a funny story about this fic. i was working on it while a bunch of people sat behind me, you see, and one of my greatest irrational fears is that people sitting behind me will be able to see my laptop screen and laugh at what i’m writing…! and with these requests i usually title them the fandom name and my name, and a short phrase about the request, and this one was “workplace romance”, and i just got so afraid right then and there i changed it to the first thing i could think of, based off a clip i saw of pomu, selen, aia and doppio…!! and that’s why the wip doc is titled “nijisanji 4402 - pliskin”, and why i will always refer to this fic as "pliskin" much more than the actual title

by the way here’s a cover of iris that was pretty fitting for this fic. you’ll know when to play it. enjoy

tags: hurt/comfort, reader is a niji vtuber, gender neutral reader, off-collab, mutual pining, misunderstandings, fluff, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, cuddling, everyone in niji is your wingman, implied uki/ren if you squint but it’s mostly because uki will flirt with 80% of the men in this company

cameos: aia amare, alban knox, mika melatika, nina kosaka, ren zotto, uki violeta, vox akuma, fulgur ovid (mentioned)

⚠️ drinking/alcohol (unspecified if reader drinks alcohol)

⚠️ horror/gore mentions (non-detailed), out of context outlast spoilers i guess?

author's commentary here (spoilers) ↣

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There are dozens of these videos on YouTube, and never have you come across the same one twice. You would know. You have a bad habit of clicking on them. 

After all, they’re labeled with your name on them, and right next to it, Ike Eveland. You are smart enough to recognize it’s not worth your time and just another compilation of the same moments and fans trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, but your heart says otherwise. To be fair, the compilations were a much more recent development than the one you hid under lock and key. 

When you first joined Nijisanji, some of your senpais sent you messages full of greetings and offers to help you get on your feet as a streamer. Ike was one of those senpais, and whenever you popped into voice calls just to hang out, he was easy to talk to, like an old friend. Naturally, a fast friendship formed, and when you debuted, he was one of the first people you collabed with- and the one with the best reception. Your new fans (‘Bookworms,’ they called themselves, after your name Reader) loved how well your humor bounced off each other, and when weeks passed and you announced another collab on your schedule with Ike, your Bookworms rejoiced. 

Even when you weren’t working, you would still talk to him. He told you about his homeland in the past and his novels, both released and unpublished. He was a storyteller even when he was talking about something as minute as making a sandwich, and whenever you brought up your past and interests, he was an excellent listener. You had your differences, but he always knew what questions to ask so he could understand you better, and you loved the opportunity to ramble. 

It had been nearly three months since you debuted, and four if you count the day you were officially hired and began to build yourself as a streamer. Whenever you look at the endlessly long text history between you and Ike, you have to wonder: is it normal to feel so connected to someone you’ve only known for three-maybe-four months? 

You’re not an idiot. You aren’t about to say Ike is the most important thing in the world to you, but he gets pretty damn close. That terrifies you. You shouldn’t be so attached to someone you barely know. 

But then again, you trust Ike. He’s opened up to you about things he would never say to others, and he keeps your secrets buried in the grave. You’ve lost count of how much advice he’s given you, but you’ve never forgotten a single one, and whenever you feel lost about something you know you can count on him to help you out. 

You grimace, sip out of your drinking glass, and press ‘play’ on the next compilation. 

A cute intro plays with the clipper’s name. Above it are the words Pen and Paper, surrounded by puffy pink hearts. 

That was the duo name between you and Ike, but "ship name" was more accurate among fanwork.

You weren’t exactly unaware about it. Weeks ago, you were surfing Twitter and the site’s algorithm granted you your introduction into Pen and Paper. This was shortly after your first collab with Ike, and after you established your shipping rules with your audience (“I’m fine with anything, as long as the other liver is okay with it!”, you proclaimed, totally oblivious to how soon that would blow up in your face). The fanartist posted a messy black-and-white sketch, but you could make out the pattern of Ike’s scarf wrapped around you and him at the same time, forcing your bodies into close proximity with averted eyes and dusty blushes. 

You appreciated the fanartist’s passion and skill, but the thought of you and Ike as an item sunk in your chest like you swallowed a rock. You swiped past. You went back to your scrolling, found some good thumbnails, and retweeted some cute solo fanart, but before the week ended, you made a private account with a fake name and staked out the tags for Pen and Paper to follow that fanartist.

Damn fanartist. You tried to deny it, and told yourself that you followed their art because you liked the style. But their account was full of ship art, and when Twitter gave you similar users that all worked under the hashtag, you had to face facts. If you wanted to look at it optimistically, at least you figured it out early on before anything had the chance to sour while you were still blissfully ignorant of yourself; even then, that doesn’t make it any harder than it already is.

Besides all the texts, the meetings, the schedules and events, and then including the streams and collabs and the art and the fandom… 

“Why?” You ask out loud in the silence of your room. “Why did I have to fall for my coworker?”

And with audiences of over hundreds of people watching you fall for him, nonetheless!

It’s irritating. You have a job that keeps you motivated to work hard. It’s given you a dedicated fanbase, rare opportunities, and coworkers you all recognize as your friends. Really, finding someone to care for because of it should be a blessing, but it’s such a headache. What if your fanbases get jealous, or even worse, outright hate it? Would you be able to keep up a relationship when you and Ike are dedicated to your careers and streams? Why are you even thinking like this? You scold yourself. There’s no way this would ever work out. It’s all fantasy and smoke and mirrors, because fandoms love love. Shipping is never a reflection of the streamers, just the characters you play. You’re delusional if you think your stupid crush could actually go anywhere.

But fandoms love love. The only comfort you have is being able to pretend something could happen. The ship art is a lie, and so are the fanfics, and the clippers that tag their videos as Pen and Paper are just here for a possibility that never could happen.

The compilation is full of little hints and teases, and if you were being honest with yourself, most of it was more like two friends getting along than actual flirting. But you didn’t trust yourself to see your clumsiness for what it is when Ike’s little laughs are like music to your ears. 

Damage control, you tell yourself. It’s like studying how you play your favorite games. You can pinpoint where you stumble and leave yourself open for attack in Apex, Smash, even Crab Game, and then amend those mistakes the next time you pick up the game. Real life should be no different. Just stop acting so dorky all the time by finding moments of dork in your VODs and avoid them next time you talk to Ike.

This clip was from your second collab with Ike. Captions floated along the bottom of the screen. Ike's captions were in his signature blue.

IKE: You know, there’s a lot of content about us two as a duo.

READER: They call us Pen and Paper, right?

IKE: Yeah, my art tag is flooded with art of the both of us. 

READER: Oh my God, look at the chat. Mine’s full of people saying they love us together. 

IKE: Aww, thanks, Quilldren! I’m happy I can play with Reader too. 

READER: Thank you, Bookworms; thank you, Quilldren. Hey, there’s a lot more overlap than I expected.

IKE: They’re like Bookdren.

READER: Or Quillworms.

IKE: Quillworms, that sounds way better. They’re like our children.

READER: www

IKE: www

Never fucking mind about acting so dorky all the time. You kick yourself for bringing up Pen and Paper, and your giggly laugh. You hate it. A neon sign above your head that says “SIMP” would be less obvious than that stupid schoolkid laugh.

But Ike’s laughter is music, back in the moment and now as you revisit it, and his model’s eyes squint with a wide smile.

He really is an amazing man. If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you’d think he’s perfect. But you’ve seen him in moments of vulnerability, the parts of himself that never shows through on stream and even rarer among his friends. Through it all he manages to keep going, and you admire him so much for sticking to his guns even when he’s expressed all his doubts about himself. The fact that he trusts you enough to let his guard down only adds to how honored you are to know him, and at the same time, the fact that there’s so much trust between you two just makes you feel worse for having a crush on him. You hate keeping secrets like this when you let Ike read you like an open book for everything else, and even just wishing you were something more to him feels like a betrayal of all that trust. You wish you could just be satisfied to know him.

The compilation continues. The next clip is a totsu Fall Guys collab hosted by Fulgur Ovid that you and Ike joined in on. Fuuchan got eliminated early in the match, and spectated on you while the other livers ran around Roll On with players tugging them this way and that. 

You moved around the rotating levels at the perfect sweet spot between two rings, and balanced at the top of the roll as the slime level slowly rose.

A longer wall approached, so you shuffled from one level to another, but another player grabbed your bean avatar and dragged you along to the wall even as you yelled out in panic on Discord. You smashed your keys to struggle, but they had an advantage, and it was clear the wall would push you down to the slime for an impending elimination.

That is, until a familiar Miku bean grabbed the other side of your avatar, and pulled the other way towards the ring that would save your life. Resigned, your attacker backed off and barely dodged out of the way while Ike’s Miku bean brought you back to safety.

The other two livers in the game were too noisy to notice you. Fuuchan was commentating every move you made, and when Ike saved you, he said, “Ike coming in clutch, let’s fucking go.”

Your recorded self didn’t hear him at all, though. You swooned, “Ike, my hero!”

Meanwhile in the present, you wanted to puke. You meant for that to sound like an over-the-top joke, but you crush is getting so serious that it sounds less like a bit and more like how you gush about him in private. 

At least Fuuchan’s audio was louder than everyone else, since he was the host, and the other two livers were preoccupied with their own game to notice your lovey-dovey tone and how Ike laughed music at you. It was bad enough clippers transcribed your words in captions, but you weren’t sure how you would handle it if those three picked up on you and your dumb crush. The less that know about your workplace romance, the better.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“Reader,” Aia coos. Even with audio only, you could tell her eyes were sparkling. “You didn’t tell me you had a workplace romance!”

Well, so much for that plan. You froze over. “Who told you that?”

Mika answers way too quickly. “It’s Alban’s fault.”

“Fuck off, Mika, you brought it up first!”

“You said it though!”

Man, you were already starting to regret joining VC today. You finished your offline work a lot faster than expected, so when you realized that three of your close friends in the company were all online in VC together while Alban privately streamed a rhythm game, you figured you would join the call while you prepared dinner. 

But if that was your greeting, you needed to mentally prepare for the wild interrogation you were about to experience. At least Aia, despite her love for drama, knew how to navigate these sorts of things delicately. And you don’t mean to call Mika and Alban bad friends—they were the exact opposite, in fact—but they were much nosier than Aia ever came across.

“Okay, but Reader just asked who leaked it, and didn’t deny it,” Aia says. “So that means it must be true!”

Scratch that. Aia is the worst out of all of them.

“I hate you guys. No hello or anything, just gossip about my love life,” you lament.

She gasps, and if her eyes were sparkling before, then roses bloomed around her as she spoke. “It’s love?”

Mika shrieks like a banshee. “Oh hell no, you’re in love and you didn’t tell us?!”

“It’s not love. It’s nothing!”

“Nah-uh, Reader, no running away from it, we know,” Alban says. “Better to just get it all out in the open than pretend like nothing’s up.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to snoop.”

“I’m being serious. Keeping stuff bottled up deteriorates you, especially when love’s involved.” He missed a note. “Shit. And yeah, okay, I want some gossip, but I have a point and you know it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, I blew a full combo just to say that!”

“Can I add? In case you forgot, Reader, we’re all in the same company,” Mika says. “Sure, I might be in a different branch, but who knows? Maybe we can help.”

“And fuck you too.” You sigh in defeat. As vitriolic as your shared humor was, these three were still some of your best friends, and you know they don’t mean any harm. “Ugh, I hate this. This is confidential information. Like, CIA levels of confidential. If I tell you guys, you can’t tell a single soul about it. Understand?”

The three all chime in agreement. And unfortunately, you trust them. You take advantage of your coworkers swearing themselves to secrecy to hype yourself up and just rip off the band-aid. “It’s Ike.”

“We know.”

“What the hell do you mean, you know?!”

“It’s obvious,” Aia says. Your heart hammers in your chest. Then she sputters for a moment, like she realized she might’ve hit a soft spot. “Well, you have to focus on it to see it, but once you see it, it’s hard to ignore. You two go well together.”

Alban pitches in. “Agreed. I’m not even gonna be subtle about it, you and Ike have great chemistry. I’m happy for you two.”

“Okay, I guess.” Your eyes drift away from your prepared ingredients to the corner of your kitchen. “But I don’t know. Are you sure? Because I feel like I always act like an idiot whenever I’m around him. And I doubt he’d ever feel the same way.”

“Wait.” Aia pauses. “You’re… not dating?”

“No. Just a crush. Not love, not dating, nothing. And it’s never going to be anything more than that because it’s just a big stupid crush on my coworker, who doesn’t even live close enough to visit, and this is all a recipe for disaster.”

She doesn’t say anything about that. Actually, none of them do. Even Alban pressed pause on his game, and the Discord stream went motionless as your words sunk in. 

Mika is the one to break the silence. “You’re shitting me.”

“That’s the truth. Happy?”

“No, like, you’re shitting me, there’s no way.”

“Mikaaa.” Alban drags out her name as he scolds her. 

“Hey, I’m just saying, that’s crazy, especially since—“

“Don’t tell Reader that!”

“Tell me what?” 

“We thought you were already a thing. You know, dating, in a relationship, whatever,” Mika clarifies. It hits you like a punch to the gut. “Or at least that you had something going on, and kept it secret so it wouldn’t be awkward for everyone else to work with you two. Which, by the way, we’re all chill with, so if, hypothetically, you decided to hypothetically go for it, we would hypothetically cheer you on and set off hypothetical fireworks. I’d rent a food truck.”

Alban resumes his game. “Yeah, what she said. Go get that hypothetical novelist bussy.”

“Don’t hypothetically talk about my brother like that.”

“You’re sure this is okay?” You ask. “Mika, I know you and Ike are close. This isn’t going to make anything weird, is it?”

“You’re fine, Reader. If I had problems, I would’ve cornered you and threatened you over text ages ago when I figured it out.”

“That’s another thing. How did you guys know?”

Aia pipes up first. “I know I said it was obvious, but I think that’s just because we know each other since we’re good friends. You two just go together, you know? It’s hard to explain, but whenever Reader and Ike-senpai are in the same room you think, ‘those two would be cute,’ and then you realize they are cute, right there in the moment. And you talk a lot faster on stream whenever you’re both on the same page. Almost as fast as me.”

 “Plus, it’s really common to see both of you on VC at the same time, and you’re always happy whenever he shows up,” Mika affirms. “Alban says whenever one of you enters the call the other is soon to follow.” 

“It’s true. You talk fast whenever you talk to him on VC too, not just stream. And your laugh kind of changes?”

“Dammit, I knew my laugh was my tell. This sucks. This seriously sucks.”

“It might not be all that bad,” Mika says. “Who knows, maybe things might end up better than you expect. You should tell him.”

��No way,” you fire back. “There no way he’d actually reciprocate. And I know you guys are fine with me asking, but Ike himself is just going to reject me, and it’s going to be awkward, and literally everyone in the company who has ever talked to us will be able to tell something’s up.”

“They won’t be weird,” Aia insists. “We won’t, either, and Ike-senpai is a good guy. Even if it doesn’t work out, he wouldn’t leave you out to dry like that.”

“You don’t know. None of you have ever been in this situation.”

“That’s true, but there’s always a chance.”

“If you ask me, it sounds more like you’re afraid of what you think would happen instead of what rationally would,” Alban says. He’s still laser-focused on his game. “I dunno. If you’re really set on getting over it, then go ahead and ignore it, but that’s just going to eat at you for who knows how long before your crush starts to fade.”

“Well, I didn’t ask.”

“Fine. Forget I said anything.”

You regret the acidic tone in your voice the second you said it, but Alban was off in his own world of music. He’d tell you if he had a problem with how you spoke to him, but you still feel gross about your knee-jerk reaction. 

You’re just… defensive. Yep, that’s the word. Whenever you’re this interested in someone, you put your walls up and protect yourself from letting anyone worm through and hit a weak point. 

Aia hums like an analyst. “Just keep it in mind, Reader. Not everything is out to get you.”

You know your friends just wanted the best for you, but things just aren’t as simple as they’d like to imagine it. It’s none of their business, anyways. It was pure coincidence that they figured out your thoughts on Ike, and that means none of them have any real authority to advise you on your love life.

“I think we’re done talking about this,” you assert.

“Well, you heard ‘em. Pack it up, show’s over.” Mika changed the subject. “Hey, did you guys know if you try to break open a freshly boiled egg, it explodes?”

Alban slams his hands on his keyboard so loudly that you hear the switches over his noise suppression. The stream goes from a string of Awesome! notes to nothing but misses as he abandons the game. “YES. Yes, actually, I DO know.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“MEAT! WANTS MEAT! WANTS MEAT! MEAT!”

“AAAAAAAAHHHH!”

The stream is to the birds. Fuck that noise. Godspeed to the Bookworms, they’ll need it, but not nearly as much as you. 

When you were settling on a schedule, the last undecided spot for the week was Friday’s stream. That simply wouldn’t do. Friday nights kick off the weekend, and the break from school and work is prime time for a wide audience, so pretty much everyone in Nijisanji reserves their juiciest streams for the weekend. You’re no exception.

…Except for the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what to do for Friday’s stream. One Twitter poll and conveniently timed Steam sale later, you published your schedule with a game your fans voted on: Outlast.

You walked in knowing it would be a horror game, and you figured it would be fine. After all, you’ve played games from Chilla’s Art before, and a few quirky indie psychological releases here and there. You wouldn’t call yourself a stone-faced horror lover that can keep a straight face at anything, but aside from a few creepy moments in those game, you’ve kept your cool relatively well. 

Outlast threw all that out the window. You realized almost immediately that you had no idea how to handle the primal fear of the chase. 

Footsteps pound against a metal floor. You plead for help in the emptiness of your home as you smash the controls, as if that would make your character move the cabinet over the door any faster. Screams resonate in tune between you and the chained man in the room with you, and all the while, the howling of your pursuer grows louder and louder as he gets closer.

You finally uncover the door and dash through. Tremors run though all your thoughts while your heart beats overtime. 

You still haven’t gotten used to all the jumpscares, even though you’re at the edge of your seat and ready to start running yourself. A fork in the road approaches, and when you start off one direction, you’re greeted by a bloodied man in the distance. “AAAHH!”

Faster than light, you slam the key to the other hall and book it. You spot a new storage container to shove in front of the door just in time for text to appear on the screen: Look for pushable objects to block doors.

“No shit, why wouldn’t you tell me that before, oh my God, aaaaah!” The screams—from both the voice actors and your own cries—grate against your eardrums while chase music thunders in-between the gasps for air. 

As you grab the container and start to push, you mash the pause button. When the menu appears, you lean back in your chair and run your hands over your face. Your model pouts cutely while the real you whimpers. The mic barely picks it up.

You take a breath before groaning in fear and pain. “Guys. I don’t think I can do this…” Another groan as you trail off. “This game is so much. Give me a second.”

As you raise yourself back from your chair, it’s with a slump forward. Your chat is full of headpat emotes and hearts in your color, along with some quick words of courage. A few are recommending you take a break. “Thanks, Bookworms. I’m so afraid, but I’m committed and I don’t want to just leave it here.”

Your eyes flutter closed as you take a sip of water to clear your head. The cold drink startles you out of the dingy asylum atmosphere, but the screaming still lingers between your ears. “You know what? Who else is online right now? Maybe I need someone in VC to hold me to this.”

The emojis in chat slowly patter out as your viewers go back to text. Looks like most of your Bookworms like the idea of calling someone else while you stream the game. Some of their messages catch your eye. 

gatamiizuus: you can call ike :ReaderHeadpat: 

messXed-up!: ike!!

lunasmortas: what about ike?

A few more chats mention Ike, and while usually you’d be irritated they mentioned another liver out of the blue, your shoulders still relax at the sight of his name. “Wait, Ike? Is Ike here?”

You scroll back in the chat history, and search for any mod messages. Sure enough, barely a minute ago while you were still being chased:

Ike Eveland 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : GANBARE!

You cling onto that message like a lifeline. Ike is familiar. Ike is comforting. And most importantly, Ike would never call you a pussy.

Chat floods over with his name while you check the official Nijisanji Discord server. Almost everyone in Nijisanji sets their status to offline by default, and Ike is one of them, but you still scan through the member list anyways, praying a little green indicator will light up by his icon.

His status doesn’t change, but before you can even click on his profile, your Direct Messages tab gains a notification. He just messaged you.

Ike Eveland: Watching your stream right now

Ike Eveland: Are you okay?

You exhale. Ike is the most dependable guy you know, even when it’s pure coincidence he was watching your stream while you freaked out. 

With your heart still in your throat, you respond.

Me: uuuuuuugh i guess

Me: the game is really scary

Me: i don’t want to cancel the stream but i don’t think i can play it by myself 😭

Ike Eveland: 🫂    | 🫂 1 |

Ike Eveland: Would you feel better if I called you?

Me: i was just about to ask    | 👌 1 |

Me: you don’t have to if you don’t want to tho!! i don’t want to be a nuisance lol

Ike Eveland: Don’t worry I offered to!

Ike Eveland started a voice call.

“Ikeee!” The second the call starts, all your restraint goes forgotten. “Ike, I was so scared!”

You babble on about everything you’ve endured up to this point: the gore, the grime, and the patients in the asylum that hunt you like animals. 

 “I’m here, it’s alright now,” he assures you. “I’m here, okay? Take your time, you’re safe.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m relieved. But it was so scary.” You sink and bury yourself in the collar of your shirt. “You’ve streamed this before, and kept a cool head the entire time, right? How do you do it?”

“Well, it wasn’t my first time playing, for starters. Everyone gets freaked out at first. It’s a horror game, Reader, it’s okay to react to it. I remember the first time I played it, it scared me so bad I had to quit after half an hour.” He giggles a bit at himself. The sound is comforting. “That was a few years ago. I think I had nightmares about it, until I realized I needed to know the rest of the story. ”

Your voice is small. “That was really brave of you.”

“I avoided it for days. I doubt that’s brave.”

“It’s braver than calling someone just to get the guts to play the game.”

“Hey, don’t put my friend Reader down just to bring me up.” He keeps his tone light to let you know you’re allowed to smile. “Being able to face your fears is plenty on its own, and you shouldn’t be devaluing that. How long have you been at it?”

“A little over two hours?” You glance at the stream monitor, and ignore the chat as much as you can. You still register the hearts in your color and his signature blue. “I don’t know. I did a lot of pausing, too, so it’s probably less than that…”

“But you were still able to stream for that long. Remember, I could only play for thirty minutes during my first time! You’re stronger than you think you are.”

You avert your eyes from your stream setup. You feel painfully seen, but the chat is nothing to you. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Then I’ll be here to remind you. Is that okay?”

“I’d like that.” You return to the screen, and in the darkness of the blurred labyrinth, you see your reflection stare back. Your hair is disheveled from how you kept thrashing around in reaction to the game and your shoulders are high with tension, but only now did you realize how the corners of your lips rose after the call started. Ike really got to you. “Thank you, Ike, you’re so considerate. I appreciate you a lot. You’re a really good guy.”

He chuckles slowly, soft like a blanket. Your shoulders ease. Ike’s words are just as soft, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s nervous too. “Haha, um. Yeah. Thank you?” He doesn’t take compliments well, but they’re true, and you hope he knows it as well as you do. He clears his throat. “Ahem. Um, how are you feeling?”

“Not great, but better. I want to try again.”

“You’ve got this, Reader, you can do it.” Ike is still quiet, but enthusiastic. “You can do it!”

You go shaky. “Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.”

But you still press Return To Game.

And when you scream barely five seconds later, Ike is still calm, and you hone in on his voice as you persevere.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Just as you go to bed, you realize that you basically just made a fool of yourself in front of your crush by getting scared at a game he’s already conquered. 

You slam a pillow over your face and groan.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Ike lands an all-out attack just in time to check the chat and the swarm of viewers that just joined. “Oh, Reader! Thank you for the raid, it’s good to see you! Welcome, everybody.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : take care of my bookworms for me? i’m getting milk

“Of course. They’re our Quillworms, after all.” You go fuzzy. He remembered the fan name! “Have a good break, Reader! Rest well.”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 👍

It was the end of the week, and the stream you just finished was the last on your schedule. You announced a few days ago that you would take a break for a little more than two weeks so you could catch up on offline work as well as rest, and the Bookworms sent you off with a lot of love. It’ll be hard for some of your diehard fans, but you’re sure they’ll manage. You have a feeling it’ll be easier than they expect. 

“Speaking of breaks, I haven’t finished my schedule yet. I think I’ll wait a day or two to post it.” The stream cracks in red and black as Ike’s party in Persona 5 Royal clobbers the enemy Shadows. Monsters bleed out behind the protagonist’s cocky smirk. “I’ll be offline for the next two days, so I’ll have some time to think about it.”

Ike mashes through the battle results, and sets back off into exploring the palace. His stream fades into background noise as you get back to the task at hand. 

You sent a few messages to some of your other coworkers regarding your break. Next was finishing some paperwork for management, and reaching out to others that needed access to the files. Sure, your time off was for offline work, but the work you had to get done would only take an afternoon at most. You wanted to meet even the far-off deadlines as soon as possible so you could be properly free for the rest of your vacation.

By the time you finished your paperwork, your coworkers were able to respond to you. A group chat full of other livers had a new response every minute about the next two weeks, and Aia sent you a QR code that would let you save some time and money on your flight. 

Ike ended yet another super-long P5R stream just a few minutes after you grabbed all your luggage, got to the airport, and made it to your terminal. You had some time to kill, but you were sick of the headphones over your ears.

Not to mention, you were waiting for the fans to catch up on the real reason why you were on break.

Curiously, you log into your private Twitter—you don’t plan to interact with anything but you’re always paranoid about your online presence—and start searching for the code words fans think Vtubers have no idea about. Symbols replace letters and names morph into sounds while emojis speak volumes.  

The Stargazers don’t mention it at all. That’s to be expected, after all. Their oshi goes on break often, so nothing seems too out of the ordinary. Besides, you wouldn’t put it past them to have even more intricate subtweets than what you’re looking for.

Only a few of Nina’s Honeybunnies put the pieces together at first, but then you check Quilldren subtweets. As it turns out, when Ike mentioned he’d be taking a few days off, a few of his fans noticed how Nina was going to be offline at the same time, and a smaller fraction of those compared how Mika had yet to release a schedule. 

Underneath your face mask, you smile. With the career being dependent on both anonymity and your voice, you wore a nondescript black mask through the entire airport in case someone recognized you, just as well as to hide the tiny giggle that always bubbles up whenever you watch your fans scramble around theorizing. They don’t have all the pieces, after all. None of the Aiadmirers nor the Renvaders even considered it.

They’ll figure it out in time nonetheless. Uki and Nina are close to landing, and Aia was the first to disembark her plane. The rest of your friends are set to arrive after you, and besides, Vox should be ending his last stream of the week right now. You’re sure the Kindred will start plotting in the next hour, provided their oshi didn’t give them too big of a hint about his plans for the next week as he’s known to do.

You board your plane and settle into your seat, ready to nap the flight away. You’ll need the rest, after all. It’s about time you join an off-collab.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Nina doesn’t even get the chance to look away from her phone before she gets a rush of replies on her first voice tweet.

She doesn’t bother to read them anyways. She’s too busy howling out the lyrics to “Wannabe.”

It’ll be hard to discern all the voices. Ike’s high range is always easy to pick out, but Vox blends in as a bass, and you can always hear Mika’s grin through her singing. Ren and Aia are the furthest from the phone, and as loud as they sing, they’re still drowned out along with you, Uki, and Nina herself.

Mika chooses the wrong time to look around the karaoke booth. While Aia sings passionately about what she wants (what she really, really wants), her body language crumples and rises like an electrocuted high school theater kid. The ghost has a hiccuping, sweeping laugh that overpowers half of the singers, and then Aia snorts at herself when Mika covers her mouth, which gets Vox to snort even louder, and before you know it, it’s just Uki and Nina doing their damndest not to break. Even then, Nina’s voice wavers along to the Spice Girls as she resists a laugh, and Uki’s eyes are squeezed shut smiling.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The bar stool slides out from the counter so quietly that you wonder if the Airbnb owner knew just how handy it would be for a house full of streamers on vacation. You lean forward while Mika tells a story about how she, Aia, Ren and you went out for a coffee run, and crossed paths with some teenagers with matching Iluna keychains on their backpacks. 

Speaking of Iluna, their represents sat together on the couch. Aia set her plate and fork on the coffee table, not a single pool of sauce left over from the pasta dinner Vox and Uki prepared together. Somehow Ren made enough room in his luggage to bring along a teal ukulele, and idly strums along. Uki sits between Ren and the armrest, swirling the last of his pasta between his fork.

Across from them, Vox and Nina took ownership of two plush chairs that could only fit one person each. Each chair was next to a corner table, and they stacked their plates on top of one another to make room for a jug of orange juice and two cocktail glasses. Ike took a bottle of rum and poured it into his soda, then slid it back to the corner table before pulling up the bar stool next to you. 

“It was like, one of them had a clear phone case and held it out to show the others a video,” Mika says. She perched on top of the counter itself, next to her travel microphone and the second-nastiest kitchen stream setup you’ve ever seen. She was no Scarle, but so many wires stretched across the island and along the way that it was just easier for her to climb onto the polished granite to keep an eye on the chat. “Smack-dab in the center was a PNG of Vox. And then a bunch of tinier Voxes around it. And here’s how you know it’s bad, you could see the color of the phone itself through the case because it’s clear, right? It was red. Red! That’s commitment!”

“I’m telling you, Mika, there’s no way they got a red phone just because of Vox,” Aia says. “That’s got to be a coincidence.”

Vox hums into his glass. “No, they absolutely did. You mean to tell me your fans don’t spoil you rotten and buy new phones just because they’re your color?”

“My color is white, Vox, like every phone ever is my color!”

“Still, I’ve never seen Aia go so quiet so fast.” Ren’s ukulele twangs as he grins. His fangs were just as prominent in real life. “It was awesome.”

“It was scary, but funny,” you say. “We saw the Vox case and the Iluna keychains, and all of us just went silent. And we all had masks, too, so it was like, one moment you could hear Ren’s fuckboy laugh, and the second we saw the case, we all put up our masks and went quieter than the grave.”

Ren palms the neck of the ukulele and mutes the chord in mock offense. “Hey! I’m not a fuckboy!”

“Didn’t say you were, but if you want to out yourself like that, be my guest. They’d chop off your horns and sell them like Kyo.”

“One of them had an Aster keychain.” Ren bitterly resumes playing. Uki sets his plate on the table and drapes himself over the alien’s shoulder as he opened up his phone to check the off-collab’s live tag. The stream was supposed to be a live Q&A, but was so easy to talk to everyone that the questions often turned into conversation before someone remembered the stream. “If Aia or I said anything, we’d be fucked.”

“Imagine how fucked we would’ve been if Vox woke up in time to go with us,” you say.

Ike snickers. “Is it bad that I would’ve paid money to see that?”

The two Luxiem members get into a playful argument over who would win in a fight: all the effort Nijisanji and its employees put into protecting their privacy, or one silly phone case. Ren’s riffing turns into a simple rendition of “Iris” and Nina hums along from across the living room. The ukulele is slow and unique enough to not be mistaken for the original, but you wonder if those two would be able to avoid copyright entirely.

Nonetheless, the vibe is comfortable. You’re miles away from home, but in a room with some of your closest friends in the world, it’s like you never left. Truthfully, it’s more like you’ve finally found your place. The music just feels right, like it was written for this moment, and Aia leans back into the couch while Nina sways in her seat to the jaunty little ukulele. Ren looks as cheery as his instrument sounds, especially with a peaceful Uki nuzzled up to him. 

While Ike and Vox go at it, Mika props her chin up with both hands and watches them like a reality TV show. There’s a glint in Vox’s eyes as Ike drums up a snide response, the only sane man to the demon’s goofiness. He brings his rum and coke to his lips like punctuation, a silent so, what? hidden in the boozy soda. 

Vox knows how to run his mouth, and he launches into one of his patented anecdotes. While all eyes are on the demon and the chat hones in on his voice, you focus on how Ike tilts his head up to drink. His neck stretches out from the collar of his black band tee, and with each sip, his Adam’s apple bobs. 

You’ve always thought he was good-looking on stream, but he’s gorgeous in person, all long lines and graceful features, and cameras can’t capture the tiny little freckles drizzled down the back of his neck. You didn’t even know he had freckles. It was only after you saw him for the first time that you noticed pale, reddish dots all over his nose and cheeks, fading out by his temples and the arch of his lips. Spending the day walking around in the sun from place to place revealed more whenever the wind flicked his jacket collar out right. They scatter at his nape, right below the blue tips of his hair, and meet one another further down his back, or so you’d presume. Without the jacket, you can catch marks spread out along his arms with distance between one another, and his shirt sleeve starts right where the freckles cluster together. You can only imagine how far down they go.

You avert your eyes. You can’t think about what’s under the shirt when you’re sitting right next to him, and certainly not while on stream, even if chat can’t see you check him out!

Unfortunately, the side opposite of Ike is the one with Ren and Uki. Those two are idyllic. Without a care in the world, it seems. You envy how easily Uki can act on what he wants, even if you know he doesn’t see Ren like how you see Ike. Ren doesn’t mind it at all, either. He literally lives by the rhythm of his own ukulele. 

Ike lowers his drink with his eyes closed, as if it would make the refreshing feeling last longer. His eyelashes are the same ashen color as his hair. Gold gleams between his ears and on the chain of his glasses.

Possessed by the music, and distracted by the rambling, you become one with the background and lean along Ike’s arm.

It’s an indulgent dip into the waters, but shallow compared to all you feel for him. Ever since you met Ike in person it’s been easier to control yourself around him, and if anything, you’re reminded that this is the man you’ve gotten the closest to in both career and friendship. The only barrier between your cheek and his body is his shirt sleeve, but your arm rests against his forearm, right where the freckles taper off. There’s no resistance at all as you make yourself comfortable in the crook of his arm. 

But you hold yourself back. Even though the off-collab made you feel gutsier than before, you think that you’d pass out if you tried anything else. Besides, you feel so at peace against his arm, but too afraid to look up and see his reaction. 

The blend of peace and fear churns in your heart as it dawns on you: you were wrong to call this a crush. It runs far deeper than you could’ve imagined.

Vox says something with finality. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, but the words go unregistered. As he spoke, his eyes drifted around with his body language, but he snaps to look at Ike expectantly. You swear his smirk gets a little more mischievous as he does. 

The air stills, even though you know eyes aren’t on you, just the man you lean on. It stays frozen as Ike waits to respond. You still don’t have the heart to look up at him and break your selfish, unrequited fantasy.

You just want to stay here, unresisted.

Ike deadpans. “Anyways.”

Just like that, the moment is over, and Mika laughing at Vox striking out clears the air around you. But Vox’s eyes fall to you for just a split second as he moves in his seat. Frost settles down your back at the thought that he knows, but there’s a solid chance he hasn’t connected the dots. You pray he hasn’t.

Then you see Fox Mom herself right behind him, and she shoots you a shit-eating grin with a hand over her heart and a glass in the other. 

No doubt about it. You’re screwed. 

The frost turns to glaciers and burns into hot shame all at once. You love Nina, you really do, and you’d always consider her a good friend before coworker. However, she’s known for fishing around for any crumb of fanservice, and she gets straight to the point whenever she eggs it on, not to mention how she loves to tease her kids on just about anything. You are never going to hear the end of this if she can help it.

You really don’t know what you expected. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, even the chat. You can’t help but feel bitter. How come Uki can flirt with as many guys as he wants, you wonder, but I can’t even touch Ike without getting eyed up? 

You know the answer, but it doesn’t do anything to help the bitterness and the embarrassment, and how much you want to hide. On instinct, you take advantage of the warmth and nestle yourself deeper into Ike to hide your face, just in time as he curls his head above yours.

Nina makes a sound kind of like a fork stuck in the garbage disposal for the briefest of moments before smashing her lips together and bringing her glass to her mouth like a mute button. As if you didn’t feel seen enough. 

“Find any other questions, Uki-senpai?” Aia’s nose is buried in her phone, and God, you could kiss her for changing the subject. As much as she poked fun about you about Ike, she was still a total angel and a ride-or-die all at once. 

“Oh, I have questions,” Uki says. Luckily, he’s graceful enough to leave it at that. “Twitter wants to know first impressions for everyone that hasn’t off-collabed before.”

Ren speaks. “I think the only person I’ve done an off-collab with before is Nina, so is it cool if I go first?”

Aia gestures for him to go on. She’s still stuck on her phone as he continues.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, but you ignore it. Then again and again and again, and when you finally check it, you understand why. When Aia, Mika and Alban first heard you spill your feelings for Ike, they made a group chat dedicated to wingmanning—or at least, that’s what they pitched it as. They tease you more than anything else, and as irritating as it gets… you have to admit, it’s nice to confide in them, and nice to know they wouldn’t hold it against you.

Anyways, Alban’s going apeshit. 

Group Chat: 💙 PENANDPAPER REAL 2K4EVER 💕 (4 Members)

Aia Amare: image.png    | 📌 2 |

Alban Knox: AKDHSLSJDKSHSA

Alban Knox: AASDFSDF

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: AAAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: HAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAA AAAAAAA KYAAAAAAAA

Alban Knox: 💕💕💕💙💕💙💕💙💙💙💕💙💕💕💙

Alban Knox: 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Alban Knox: HOW ARE YOU GUYSS NOT LOSING YUOR MINDSA BOUT THIS

Aia Amare: I AM

Me: omfg did you seriously get a picture of us 

Alban Knox: WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGGG DONT CHDCK THIS GC    | 👆 1 |

Me: wtf did you expect you’re spamming 

Alban Knox: YOU AR ELITERALLY CUDDLNG GO FOCUS ON THAY JOT US

Me: we are not cuddling

Alban Knox: YOU ARE

Aia Amare: YOU ARE

Mika Melatika pinned a message.     | 🖕 1 |

Me: mika wth you too? 😭 

Mika Melatika: image.png

Me: did you srsly take a selfie with us in the background

Mika Melatika: YES this needs to be immortalized

Me: you people suck    | 🥰 3 |

Alban Knox: GET THAT NOVELIST BUSSY!!!!

Aia Amare: As if you aren’t about to save that picture yourself~

Alban Knox: NOVELUSSY!!!!!!!!!

Fuck, she got you there. You cast a pointed look at the angelic maiden herself, or at least as pointed as you can be with a man you’re scared to love wrapped around you. She looks as satisfied as a cat pushing a glass off a counter. 

You set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and placed it behind you on the counter with a huff.

“Reader, honey, how about you?” Nina leans forward, half-lidded and as sultry as ever. She swirled her drink around in its glass. “It’s your first off-collab ever, right? I’d love to hear what you have to say.”

“Oh, well, um.” Your brain struggles to catch up. “First impressions, right…”

Aia slips you a thumbs up. You’re going to rip her a new one after this. Her, and Mika, and definitely Nina; this is the most subtle Nina’s ever been but you can tell she’s fishing for an answer here. You can take your friends figuring it out, embarrassing as it is, but you are not about to expose yourself to thousands of live viewers. 

“It’s kind of crazy actually meeting up with everyone,” you start. “I’ve known them for so long, but all online, and being able to match the voice to the face in real life, I don’t think I can actually describe it. It’s kind of surreal, but it feels so nice to just talk to them in person. Aia, Nina and Uki were the first people I met up with, and man, those three are a sight. I know everyone says it, but Uki is absolutely the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Nina and Aia are really pretty, too. Hey, Aiadmirers, did you know when your oshi laughs, she looks just as cute as she sounds?”

Aia yells. “Reader, shut up!”

“Then stop being so cute all the time, you dork!” 

“I’m not a dork! I’m cool!”

You resume, satisfied with your revenge. “Mika and Vox are both really chill. They’re kind of quiet, so if you’re just walking by, you’d think they’re two normal people just going about their days. But whenever we talk it’s always something insane. Vox sounds like a dignified gentleman and Mika is kind of like that cool girl that you want to be friends with, but if you actually pay attention, Mika’s showing Vox a picture of her insides during surgery while he’s reciting something about the Bite of ‘87. And Ren is probably one of the most straightforward people you’ll ever see. He’s so optimistic, and really expressive, too, even though most of the expressions are all different types of smiles.”

“What’s your impression of Ike?” Nina asks.

What does she expect you to say to that one, that screens can’t capture how the sun glitters through his glassy green eyes? Hearing him say your name in-person sends shockwaves through your body? How you want to kiss every little freckle he’s never mentioned before and keeps hidden under long sleeves, even though it’s the beautiful skin he lives in daily?

“Same old Ike. He’s exactly like how I expected,” you say. A total fib. 

She cocks her head. “Really? Even after all the time you’ve spent together?”

“I’m trying to hang out with everyone.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Cornered. Nina takes a long, slow drink from her glass as you scramble for a quick answer that won’t immediately out you. “Whenever I talk to Ike, he’s really emotive. You can tell what he’s thinking before he says anything. He also has a good sense of style, so he’s fun to go shopping with, and honestly, fun to do anything with. He’s someone you can always have a good time with, and always makes you feel so comfortable around him. Ike’s magnetic.”

Mika muffles a coo behind you. You’re going to kill her if you survive this stream.

“That’s very sweet, Reader,” Nina replies. “Hear that, Ike?”

“Yes, I did.” He sounds strained.

“Got any feelings about it?”

“Yes? I mean—er, thanks?” You feel Ike’s head rustle. “I, umm. What am I supposed to say about that?”

“I don’t know. I just think that about you, that’s all…”

“Aww, cute. I love that you love each other,” Nina muses. 

Ike spits out, “It’s not like that!” Just as you admit, “Yeah, I guess so.”

You process his words too late, though, and even as you sputter the ukulele music cuts out just in time with Nina and Mika’s unfiltered fangirl squeals. Ren’s palms mute the chord as his eyes go wide. Aia is already on her phone with her jaw to the floor and Uki throws a look at Nina while he mouths, did that just happen? 

“I-I mean!” Your throat goes dry and Ike lurches away from you when Vox gleefully shakes Nina like a rag doll. “I—wh—Ike, I mean, of course I love you—“ Mika screams again— “As a friend!”

When you turn to face Ike, he’s curled up into a ball on the barstool with his shirt collar over his face. Even as you feel the blood rush to your face, you keep shouting. That’s all you have left. You’re live. “Like, we’re best friends on and off stream and I love you!”

He mutters something, but you can’t tell what. Only his neck and the tips of his ears poke out from his shirt. Were they always that red?

You repeat yourself. “I said, we’re best friends and I love you, so much!”

“And I said, I know, thank you, I love you too, Reader!” Ike jerks out to face you as he cries. He looks like a tomato. 

Then he buries his face into his hands and squeaks like how he always does when something’s too cute to handle, or he’s got too many emotions he needs to let out. “You can’t see me, I’m too embarrassed. I’m hiding forever and I’m never coming out.”

You hope the ground swallows you up and you never have to confront this moment again. 

Uki hisses under his breath and muffles Ren's ukulele. You don't know what he said, but you realize all too late that the alien prince himself was laying down the first few notes of “Fly Me To The Moon.”

While you slump and fold your arms over your face on the counter in pure embarrassment, Aia stands up and commandeers the mic. She slaps a hand over Mika’s mouth to muffle the scream. “Man, bummer that Ike-senpai is gone from us forever, but you know what else might be gone forever if you don’t get it now? The sponsor for this stream, our current limited-edition Nijisanji voice packs!”

And as much as you could kiss her yet again for changing the subject, you can’t get over how everything blew up in the last five minutes, and groan into your arms instead. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The stream passed, luckily, without a hitch after that. No one asked any questions, but it was pretty damn clear everyone in the room had an idea of what just happened, and the impending shitstorm. In fact, it was so clear that when you stalked off to your room to sulk, no one made a fuss, and when you realized ten minutes into your sulking session that you left your phone on the counter, you figured it wasn’t worth it to show your face again until after you finished your pity party. 

The entire time, you laid in your bed with a pillow over your face so you could pretend like you were being absorbed into the sweet embrace of death. Overdramatic, sure, but you figured you were justified. 

Without your phone, you had no way to check exactly how bad the fallout was on Twitter. The poor Pen and Paper tags were sure to be flooded with fans imagining a happy ending to that stint you’d never be able to experience yourself, like salt in the wound. Not to mention, it was a huge seven-person off-collab! It didn’t just end with the Pen and Paper fans. No, it would extend past the Bookworms and the Quilldren, and certainly to the rest of the fandoms with an oshi in this Airbnb. Maybe even the offshoot viewers who don’t regularly watch your content, but made an exception for the off-collab, or, you know, the ones who have no idea who you or Ike are but can’t get enough of the whole accidental-confession-live-on-stream thing. Forget Nina; the entire Vtuber community is never, ever, ever going to live this down. 

Ike sounded so distraught, too. You wanted to kick yourself for it. Not only did you make a fool of yourself, but he got caught in the crossfire just because you didn’t catch yourself slipping. Not like he’d reciprocate anyways. He’s always been bad at taking compliments, but you keep thinking about how embarrassed he was about you loving him. 

All your frustration and humiliation coursed through the darkness under your pillow, and you stew so bitterly that you don’t even dream when you fall asleep. 

You just wake up groggy and exhausted, but too restless to go back to sleep. You look out the window, and the stars have barely come out to play in the early night sky. 

As much as you’d hate to admit it, that impromptu nap made you tired of brooding. Besides, you can’t hide from your friends forever. Hopelessly in love or not, they’re still your friends, and even if you decided to stream during the trip, this off-collab was always about spending time with them instead of worrying over your online presence. 

It takes you half an hour to hype yourself up, but eventually, you open your door and step out into the hall. 

You can already hear voices further away in the Airbnb. You place one of them as Nina, and after her, a baritone that could only belong to Vox. 

“…Fuck Twitter, they’re going to forget about it in two weeks or less anyways.” You overhear as you walk down the hall of rooms and closer to the living room. You’ve heard Vox passionate before, but never this serious as well. “Besides, what exactly did they say?”

A mumble. You can’t place the words, but you bristle when you recognize the voice. That’s unmistakably Ike. 

“See? Again, I’m so sorry. I was out of line, and I forgot my place. I shouldn’t have interrogated them like that,” Nina says. “But you’re overthinking what they said.”

Another mumble. By now, you’re in the kitchen. You lift your phone from where you left it, and hold your fingers over the half of the screen where your notifications appear as you check the time. It’s barely 11 PM. 

The kitchen and living room are connected, with plenty of seating space all around. That was why Mika’s travel laptop was still on the counter and plugged into the wall from the stream earlier, but on the other side of the wall from the kitchen, you noticed an open window and silhouettes from it. Four people sat on the shallow roof overlooking the uneven ground plenty of feet under the building. A pair of fox ears twitch at the night wind as they watched the stars grow brighter in the sky. 

You look through the fridge. You’re peckish, but if you were to be honest with yourself, you’re trying to stay quiet for a reason. 

There’s a huff. “Oh my god, dude. Just tell Reader already.”

You stand up a little straighter. Mika was with them? Were they talking about you?

“There’s nothing to be said, Mika!” Ike huffs back. “I’m screwed anyways. Just drop it, okay? I don’t need this getting in the way of what was supposed to be just a normal trip.”

“You can’t keep running away forever. Just act like an adult and tell them. It’s going to be fine, I swear.”

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“Well…” Mika trails off. “I can’t say. I just know, okay?”

“Uh-huh. And I know I’m screwed.” The wind rustles outside. You stay motionless. “Just two weeks. Can I please just have two weeks where I don’t have to worry about this until the trip is over.”

It’s a question, but he says it with such exasperation that no one can consider any other answers. 

“Fine.” Nina relinquishes. “Have it your way. I’m just worried for you two.”

“It’s going to work out, Ike. But I’m tired.” Vox stifles a yawn. “Tomorrow is going to be better. Let it go for the night and come back to it once you’re in better shape, and just remember. It’s going to work out.”

“Thanks, Vox.”

“Now get in here.”

You hear shuffling fabric before the two men start yelling. Vox cackles while Ike cries through gritted teeth. “Dang it, Vox, I’m going to shove you off this roof!”

“Get ruffled, idiot! That’s your fault for trusting me!”

“I just wanted a hug!”

You snicker under your breath. Vox loves to ruffle Ike’s hair despite the latter’s protests, though he tends to accept it instead of shove him off like anyone else that would dare. Besides, as dreary as Ike sounded during that conversation, he nearly sounded like his old self as Vox and the others laughed.

“I think I’ll go too. Mommy needs her beauty sleep.”

“Mm, I’m still pretty awake. Wanna keep looking at the sky with me, Ike?”

“Sure. Here, Nina, let me move out of the way…”

Shuffling turns to footsteps, and brings you back to reality. You busy yourself looking through the paltry groceries.

The sound of footsteps gets louder and louder, until they become a hollow click on the hardwood floor. Nina crawls through the window, but stops in her tracks with a startled noise.

You turn around and nod as casually as possible. “Oh, hey, Nina.”

Vox is also halfway through the window, and his eyes go comically wide as he forgets how to move. “Oh. Hey. Reader. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah! Um!” Nina coughs long enough to make you uncomfortable. “What are you doing here?”

“Took a nap. Got hungry.” It’s not a lie. You grope around in the fridge and breathe a sigh of relief when you see a stick of string cheese in your hands. “You guys just hanging out?”

Nina nods. “Yeah, we were on the roof. It’s getting late, though. You should get some rest for tomorrow—“

Vox elbows her. “But not after looking at the sky for a little bit. It’s beautiful. Very clear. Romantic, even. The architects did a wonderful job placing this house right at the perfect angle to watch the stars rise. Did I mention it was romantic?”

You act natural and take a big bite out of the string cheese. “Once or twice. Is it the seniors’ bedtime?”

“You got me,” Vox says. 

“I love going to sleep early and giving my kids private time before bed to reflect and hold deep conversations with one another about their feelings,” Nina says. “And also nighttime face masks.”

“Woo, skincare, what she said.” 

“Hey, by the way, Reader, honey, did you hear anything we talked about?”

“No,” you lie.

“Cool,” Vox says. You eat the rest of the string cheese in one bite. “Good for you. And goodnight, Reader.” He dusts himself off before casting his golden gaze down at you. “Be nice, will you?”

Shivers go down your back. You have a feeling he’s referring to something unspoken. “I will.”

“That’s my sweet thing,” he purrs. “Anyways, I’m going the fuck to beddy bye. Honk shoo, Reader, don’t stay up too late.”

Vox struts off with dark hair flowing behind him and the scent of his aftershave in the air. He leaves you to stand awkwardly next to Nina. 

Suddenly, she takes you by your shoulders and forces you in front of her. You blurt out an unflattering startled noise before she gets right up in your face and stares dead into your eyes.  

“Please be good,” she says darkly. Was that a threat? “Please be so, so good to my baby.”

“I will,” you say, more out of fear than anything else.

She blinks once, then she’s back to the doting mother you know and love. She squeezes your shoulders. “Thank you, honey! Sweet dreams!”

And just like the Voice Demon before her, Nina bounds off to her room. 

Huh. That was weird. Nonetheless, you’re alone in the living room, and you can see the outline of Ike and Mika sitting on the roof in silence. 

You lightly knock on the side of the window. They both perk up at the sound. “Cool if I join you?”

Mika responds quickly. “Sure! Watch your step, Reader. The roof isn’t that steep but it would be awkward if you ate shit.”

“Agreed.” You step onto the tiling, and shift your body to match the angle. You feel like a newborn deer learning to walk. Luckily, Nina and Vox leaving meant that there was more than enough space for you right next to the window. 

Ike sits between you and Mika. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…” 

‘Pretty’ is putting it mildly. The stars are so clear tonight, and scatter across the sky like sequins. The Airbnb was located further away from the heart of the city, so the darkness only amplified how bright the stars shone against the stark night. A breeze drags through the air and fallen leaves rustle between the grass. 

“This is so nice.” Comfort settles into you like the breeze in your hair. “I love it.”

Ike sighs. “Right? It’s so peaceful.”

“And there’s so many more stars out here than there are in the city.”

“It makes you want to just zone out and cool down.”

“Yeah, totally.” Mika coughs. “Huh! Cool! Well, I’m tired now. Just keep staying out here and enjoy the sky, I’m going to bed. Enjoy yourselves.”

Mika inelegantly shuffles around your bodies and slips back inside before either of you can properly tell her goodnight. 

Ike cocks his head as he watches her stumble through the window. “She just said she would stay out…”

“Hm?”

“Ah, nothing. Just thinking to myself.”

With the extra space, Ike leans back and lays along the roof. The stars cast a dreamy glow over his soft smile as he continues. “It really is something that just makes you want to have a deep conversation, or just think, you know?”

You hum in agreement. You get what he means, but there’s only one topic you can imagine having a deep conversation about right now, and it’s the very one you brooded over earlier that day. 

But Ike is Ike. He’s rational and calm and kind, and laughs at your stupid jokes, and texts you first before any of your other mutual friends. The night turns the tips of his hair bluer than usual, and the stars remind you of the freckles hidden along his creamy skin. His glasses reflect the galaxy above.

Even though today’s stream was embarrassing, you know Ike trusts you enough to tell you if you’ve ever crossed a boundary. After all, it’s commonplace to discuss limits on and off stream as soon as possible, and your friendship was so strong that you’ve both opened up to one another. He’d let you know if the whole cuddling thing was too much. Besides, he didn’t resist. He even rested his head on yours. That has to account for something, right?

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel a gentle tug on the sleeve of your hoodie. It’s Ike. He asks, “Lay down with me?”

A wave of fondness washes over you like the tide. He’s cute when he’s earnest like this. You get as comfortable as you can on the tiling, and when you still, you hear something shift before your hand grows warm. Ike scooted closer to you, and placed his pinky finger over yours. 

This is bliss. A beautiful sight with a beautiful boy next to you. Your best friend. 

“I do love you,” you say. 

It just feels right to say. 

Ike is silent. He doesn’t make a single sound as you stare up at the stars and the blackened sky. The breeze rocks a tree, and as the leaves part, you see the moon for the first time: one thin, waning crescent that blends into the darkness. 

Ike’s head is turned away from you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. 

“…I don’t know what you mean,” he admits. “You do? As a friend?”

“We’ve always been friends.”

“Just that?”

“I don’t know what you’re asking me, Ike.”

“N-never mind. I’m sorry, am I making it weird?”

“No, you could never make it weird.” The colors of the view gloss together. You feel like a balloon slowly deflating. “Feels like that’s all I’m doing lately, though.”

Neither of you say anything. 

This was a bad idea. 

You swear the rustling leaves mock you. 

“Wait.” Ike practically snatches your hand up. “Wait, Reader, are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah. I’m saying that I love you.”

Ike stares at you, and if you had to choose just one word to describe his expression, it’s stricken. His mouth is slightly parted, and his shocked eyes drive holes through your skin, leaving you exposed. The brief stutter that escapes him sounds like it was dredged out from frozen, murky waters. “I—”

He drops your hand and turns away. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, barely audible. “This is… this is a lot.”

“I’m sorry too, this was a stupid idea. What was I thinking?” You get on your feet, but the slope makes what could’ve been a fluid motion into a stumbling, slow rise, as if your legs weren’t jelly enough already. You inch to the window mortified. “I think I should go. Sorry to bother you.”

You don’t dare to glance at him before you step back inside, not even when he calls your name halfway through the window.

Once you’re back in the living room, you cover your face, then drag your hands through your hair. You can’t even begin to describe how exhausted you feel. This is heartbreak, isn’t it?

You blink furiously, and the outline of a figure by the fridge comes into view. 

“Reader?” Mika asks. She has a stick of string cheese in her hand, but walks to you. “Reader, what happened—”

You take her empty hand and pace to your room. You open the door. “Are you okay?”

The second it shuts, your breath hitches. Mika doesn’t hesitate to take you in her arms. She holds you as the first tear falls, and you begin to cry.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You wake up the next day sprawled in your bed, even though the blankets are tucked comfortably around you. On the floor is a pillow and another pile of blankets, and when you recognize the dark hair tied into a loose ponytail, the memories of last night come rushing back.

What an awful night. Awful decisions all day, really, and all of them ones you made. You really don’t know what you were thinking. You groan at the memory.

“Reader?” Mika perks up. Her phone is in her hands, but she sits up level to your face on the floor. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

Another groan.

“Yeah, I figured,” she says. “Nina, Vox and Ike went out to do their own thing, and I think Ren and Uki are cafe-hopping. It’s just you, me and Aia in the house right now.”

You rub the sleepy out of your eyes. “That’s cool, I guess.” You cast a downward glance to Mika’s makeshift bed on the floor. “Sorry for being a nuisance.”

“You’re not a nuisance, Reader, don’t say that.” She nudges you. “We’re friends. It’s what friends do. Speaking of, do you want Aia to come by? And Alban’s online, so I can call him, too. If you want.”

“It’d be nice…”

Less than ten minutes pass before Aia shows up at your door with breakfast sandwiches and orange juice. All three of you sit on the blanketed floor while Mika voice calls Alban on her phone. A pot of coffee brews over speakerphone as you recount last night. 

“...And to make things worse, we just streamed yesterday,” you explain. “God, I should check Twitter. There’s got to be a million people with eyes on our ship tag, and ugh, I hate thinking about how many weirdos are going to push a ship that can’t work out IRL.”

“I can check it for you,” Aia offers. You hand her your phone. “You remember your Twitter password?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Sorry in advance.” She deletes the app off your home screen.

You begin to protest, but she turns off the phone and sets it aside, out of your reach. “You’re off the clock, Reader! Work troubles can wait until you’re back online, and that includes doomscrolling. You can redownload it when you’re in a better headspace.”

“I really hate admitting you’re right.”

“Shit, Reader,” Alban finally says. “He seriously dropped the ball. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I really thought he would get it, but it took him so long to piece it together, like he never thought about us like that before. I should’ve known it was just me. I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, you’re hurt,” Mika says. “It’s understandable, but that still doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“Is it wrong that I feel like I deserve it? I mean, I knew day one that this wouldn’t work out. We work together online, and we have fans that ship us with each other and the rest of this company, for fuck’s sake. Getting heartbroken was inevitable and I still went for it. Either I’m a glutton for pain or I’m just plain clueless.”

Alban’s voice is distant from the phone as he messes with his coffee maker. You can’t properly hear him under his breath and over the pot, but if you could, you could’ve heard him mumble, Trust me, you’re not the only clueless one here.

But he returns back at the phone, and you’re totally oblivious. “You can’t choose who you fall for,” he says. “It was really that bad?”

“It took him like a minute to realize I was confessing. And then when he realized it, he apologized to me.”

Aia straightens. “Did he say no?”

“Not really, but why would he apologize if he reciprocated?”

Aia exchanges a look with Mika. Alban grumbles. “No fucking way.”

“Tell me exactly how he reacted,” Aia instructs. She plowed through her sandwich during the conversation, but she left the remaining half on her plate forgotten as she laced her fingers together and leaned forward like a calculated boss. 

“It was like he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying at first. He asked if I meant it as friends, until he asked me if I liked him. And when I told him I loved him in response, he was so shocked that he let go of my hand, so I left.”

“No fucking way,” Alban repeats, and groans as he drawls out his words. You can practically hear him drag his hands over his face. “No fucking way. Ikeeeee. He seriously dropped the ball.”

“I know. I can’t believe it.”

Aia takes both of your hands in her own. “Reader, I’m not even saying this to hurt you, but this is the clumsiest confession I’ve ever heard of.”

You squint. “Right, that makes me feel so much better.”

“I’m really not! You know what this sounds like? Miscommunication,” she declares. “You didn’t get a solid yes or no. So now it’s going to be awkward between you two until you get an actual answer to the confession, or at least some kind of resolution. You wanna know what I think? It sounds like he didn’t even believe what he was hearing before you left. Which, by the way, is a common response to not just confessions but other major news, so chances are you didn’t blow up your friendship as hard as you thought.”

“She has a point,” Alban says. “I believe you, Reader, but Ike isn’t the type of person to just crush other people’s feelings like that. You just woke up, right?”

“I haven’t even left my room yet. Mika says everyone else is out of the house. He’s with Vox and Nina, I think.”

“So then he hasn’t had a chance to talk to you since the confession,” he continues. “And those three are really close. I’m willing to bet they’re helping him manage it, ‘cause it sounds like he’s going through it just as confused as you are.”

You stare at the floor. Hope feels foreign, yet you can’t help but wonder. You struggle to remember the exact way Ike reacted last night, but you really can’t tell what facts were clouded over by the rejection. A rejection that possibly didn’t even happen, mind you. The confusion and regret blurs over everything like water on wet ink.

“You really think so?” You quietly ask.

Aia nods, and Alban agrees over the phone.

Mika pipes up, a glass of juice in her hands. “Here’s my take. We can theorize as much as we want, but none of us really know what Ike’s thinking about, least of all you. Especially since you didn’t actually resolve anything, and that tension is going to eat at you until you get an answer or it actually damages your friendship. You ask me, the next best thing you can do is bring it up.”

She takes a sip of her juice and leaves you to absorb her advice. 

You mull it over along with the memory of last night. “He called my name as I left.”

Alban chokes on his coffee. “He called your name?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t respond.”

“Oh my God. READER!” He shouts so loud that Mika turns the volume down. “I’m going to lose it. I’m actually freaking it right now. Reader!”

“What?”

“Fuck what Mika said earlier, you are stupid!”

“Hey!”

“I’m saying this in the nicest way possible, you are so stupid. He was trying to talk to you!”

Your face goes through a handful of emotions as you sputter. “Are you serious, Alban?”

“Yes! Mika, Aia, back me up.”

Aia crinkles her nose. “I did just say it sounded like a total miscommunication.”

Meanwhile, Mika twirls a lock of red-and-black hair between her finger, distracting herself. She hesitates, trying to figure out exactly how she wants to say her piece, before she simply shakes her head and stills. “Just talk to him.”

“Which is easier said than done.” Your shoulders roll back as you stare up at the ceiling, your hands supporting you as you lean. Even with your friends’ encouragement, the memory of how hard you blew it last night still haunts you. It’s even worse than starting at ground zero; you’ve already tasted failure once, and you’re hesitant to embarrass yourself again. 

That stricken look Ike gave you flashes across your sight every time you blink. What was he thinking when he stared at you like that? You can’t tell if the disgust is true or if your anxieties are getting the best of you.

The best solution to anxieties, however, is looking at the facts—or at least, what isn’t tainted by your bias. Your friends mentioned there was nothing wrong with a workplace romance, and as much as the stream made you want to cringe, no one seemed put off by it. Alban and Aia are set on getting you and Ike to talk, and so is Mika. In fact, Mika spoke with Ike as well as Vox and Nina last night before you entered, and even if you had no idea what those four were talking about, you still picked up your name and that apparently Ike had something to tell you.

Pieces start to fall into place when you consider the three around you, staging an intervention over a late breakfast. Aia always gets you in situations where you can be close to Ike and bails you out when it gets awkward, and as much as he won’t get off your back about it, Alban gave you great advice between all his teasing. Mika was nosy at first when she learned about your feelings, but now that you think about it, she’s been incredibly tactful ever since the off-collab began. 

You can’t help but snicker as you connect the dots. “Is this the first time you guys actually started wingmanning for me?”

Aia purses her lips. “Hey, not the first. Remember when we made that group chat? We’ve always been your wingmen.”

“I know. But you guys are seriously helping,” you say. “Thanks. Though I do wonder, Mika…”

She perks up as you say her name. “Be real with me. Do you know more than you’re letting on?”

She flinches. Alban’s fingers snap over the phone. “Busted.”

Mika holds her hands up like a criminal caught in the act, but there’s a loose, sly smile hanging on her face. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

“What do you mean, it’s not your place to say?”

“I’m sorry, Reader, but I made a promise not to spill, and I’ve been doing way too much behind the scenes to break the promise like that. Just do me a favor and talk to the guy, will you? That’s the best I can tell you.” Mika rests her head in a hand, and the smirk looks even more knowing. “And if you can’t figure it out after that, then you’re definitely stupid.”

You bluster. “I’m not stupid!” 

“Still remains to be seen.” Aia gently flicks your forehead. “But you do look a lot better. How are you feeling now?”

Aside from the fading pain on your forehead? You’re surprised at how much lighter you feel now that you unloaded all your worries with your friends. The rejection still stings, and you’re not exactly confident, but, well, you’re smiling. The clean, tangy taste of orange juice lingers between your tongue. Aia and Mika sitting on the pile of blankets reminds you that regardless of your love life, they’d stay by your side until the bitter end, and Alban’s voice keeps you connected with your friends no matter where in the world you are.

You snatch Aia’s half-eaten sandwich off her plate and sink your teeth into the bread. She cries out in protest. “Hey!”

“Better now.” You set the sandwich back where you found it. Even though your future with Ike looks cloudy, the smile doesn’t leave. “Don’t flick me.”

“Speaking of.” Mika picks up the phone and scrolls through her messages. “Nina just texted that she, Vox and Ike will come back in an hour or less. Reader, are you up for this?”

“What do you mean, ‘up for this?’”

“Just seeing Ike again. It was a weird night,” she says. “I stand by what I said, but if it’s going to be too much too soon, then Aia and I can cover for you until you feel better.”

“I don’t know.” That’s what gets your expression to sink from light to thoughtful. “I think I want to take your advice. I just don’t know if I’m ready to talk it out yet.”

“Still wanna hang out with us or take a moment to yourself?”

“I think I’d just go back to moping if I was alone,” you joke.

“Cool. Let me go grab some nail polish Nina gave me yesterday.” Mika rises and strides to the door. “You have a steadier hand than me. And Nina said the color suits me more than her.”

Aia’s face lights up. She happily cries ”Girls’ night!” even though it’s barely noon and Alban is decidedly not a girl, but then he croons something in a valley girl accent so strong you can’t even tell what he’s saying. Scratch that; he’s a girl by association.

When he drawls out one long “Yaaaaaas, bestie!” you can’t help but laugh. Your love life is in shambles, but at least your friendships are solid as hell. You’d give the world for these three.

Mika returns a moment later, travel-sized nail supplies in her arms and a totally unrelated topic on the mind. The sharp scent of the lacquer startles you out of your thoughts as you uncap the bottle and Mika splays her hands out, and Alban and Aia air their opinions on something entertainingly dumb. 

Nina was right: this color is stunning on Mika. You paint Aia’s nails too, and halfway through her second hand, you hear the front door open, the end of an intelligible conversation, and telltale footsteps, each diverting across the house. The girls’ eyes flicker to you. You know they’re trying to read your expression, but you concentrate on how the brushstrokes pool together into one smooth coat. Your thoughts are a storm and you can’t even pick out the emotion commanding it. 

So you keep joking along instead and focus on the nail polish, refusing to give the storm an opportunity to strike. Alban quips off of you, and the moment passes as Mika and Aia return to the conversation. 

That is, until half an hour later when you hear a knock on the door. Mika cocks her head, a silent question, and when you nod she stands. Her nails dried when you finished Aia’s, and dot the doorknob as she cracks it open. A tiny margin of light from the hallway shines into your room, and you realize she positioned herself square in front of the threshold, shielding you from the person on the other side. 

She talks evenly. “Hey, welcome back.”

“Thanks. Is Reader here?”

Your mind thunders as you register the voice. You can only see the leg of his jeans behind Mika, but you recognize Ike’s voice on the other side. 

Aia shuffles by as a second shield. “Need them for something?”

“Kind of,” Ike says. “Do you mind if I talk to them?”

“I don’t know, what’s it about—“

“Aia, you can lay off him.” You call from your corner of the room. “You too, Mika.”

“Whatever you say. Just let me just grab my stuff…”

Mika grabs the nail supplies and deafens on Discord, but doesn’t even think to pick up the blankets along the ground. Instead, she glides to you and whispers under her breath. “We’re rooting for you. Send us a text if you need anything, okay?”

You nod. Aia slips past the threshold, but not without shooting you a thumbs up and mouthing ‘good luck.’ Not even a second later, your phone buzzes, and you catch Alban’s contact sending you an encouraging message in all-caps. 

“See you later!” Aia chirps. “Play nice, you two.”

The scent of the lacquer follows them as they leave, and the sound of their footsteps fade in time. 

Still in the doorway, Ike raises a hand to fidget with the chain along his glasses. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Oh! Come in. Sit anywhere, I don’t mind.”

You stay planted on the floor like how you were with your friends, and Ike sits next to you. You face the wall in front while he gets comfortable.

No words are exchanged as Ike maneuvers around the blankets, and eventually settles down with his back on the floor and head resting on a pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The light is off, but the blinds filter in thin beams of sunlight that cross over the room and the edge of his collar like a grid. 

“Lay with me?” He asks. Then it strikes you like ringing metal; you sit next to each other in the same positions as that night on the roof. 

Suddenly Ike raises his hands like static. “Not that you have to! I just figured it would be good to get comfortable and all, you know?” Ike hastily explains, then clears his throat. “I wanted to talk. About last night, I mean.”

Your chest flutters at the mention of it, but you remember all your friends’ encouragement. Here he is, the novelist of your (heartbroken) dreams, already bringing up the topic you dread to mention. You need to take this chance to face it head-on, now or never. 

You glide down like the ceiling is full of stars. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“A lot, honestly. I don’t know how to go about it, but first of all, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms. “You said that enough last night.”

“Not like that! I mean I’m sorry I acted the way I did. I think I made every wrong choice once you said that you… that.” He shovels a hand through his hair. “I’m making it weird again. I should apologize for that, too, it’s just kind of embarrassing saying out loud that you, um, you loved me. Not that you should be embarrassed. I mean, I get it if you are, but that took a lot of guts. You should be proud of that. I admire you for that.”

“Slow down. What are you even saying?”

“What I wish I said last night. More than anything else, I’m sorry I got caught off-guard. I must’ve been so standoffish, because my idiot brain just didn’t believe what I was hearing until it was too late and the damage was already done.” Hair the color of ash and ocean falls over his face. “Honestly, I can’t believe it now.”

“I get it. Bad idea from me. Can we move on from that yet?”

“I don’t think it was a bad idea at all. I just had no idea that you liked me.”

“Give me some time and I’ll get over it, eventually. I’m not going to let it get in the way of working with you, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”

“No, that’s not it either! I—“

Ike’s eyes squeeze shut. His voice is so quiet, you can’t discern what he’s saying. “…Actually, I’m…”

“Repeat that?”

“I’m happy. Really happy,” Ike says. His pitch rises like a balloon floating up into space, struggling to stay composed. “I’m not good at saying it, but I meant it when I said… when I said it during the stream.”

You wave a hand in the air. “It was weird timing, and I know you mean it like a friend,” you reply. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into saying it, and just being friends is fine. Even though I’m a loser that messed up just about everything.”

The hand catches in midair. Doll-like fingers weave through your grasp, and turn your touch warm as Ike turns to look at you. “Not with me. Don’t say that about yourself, okay?” 

You stare at how easily he held your hand, and how his fingers cradle your heart between the palms. The corners of Ike’s eyes are narrowed, two beads of peridot stone that can see through every little line of text between your pages, but there’s gentleness under his glasses. Something uncertain and fluffy. Softened like a lamb even though he leaves you defenseless. 

You don’t know what to say. Ike is beautiful and kind and handsome and thoughtful when he’s earnest like this. He’s got you stupid in the head and wrapped around his pinky finger, and doesn’t have a single clue.

Peridot sparkles. “You’re so much more than that. You don’t mess things up, Reader. I’m in love with you.”

Your mouth goes dry and your tongue is still tied. Forget speechlessness; the man took your own damn thoughts away. Your hand remains frozen in air with Ike’s. If it weren’t for the light drag of one of his fingernails along your skin, then you would have figured he took your senses as well.

But the drag ends, and the fingers unlace themselves, and chilled air fills in the gaps Ike once held close. The tips of his fingers rest at the curve of your palm for just one second more before they drift away.

The glint in his eyes dulls. His hand falls to his chest, over his heart, just as slow as he parted. The uncertainty took over, and now it’s like staring at a cloud that doesn’t know if it should rain. Ike’s gaze lowers to his heart. There’s a stretch of silence and motionlessness as he stares at where your touch once was, and you’re paralyzed where you lay.

Ike's hand curls in on itself, too loose to make a fist, and his lashes sink over his eyes. His mouth is set into a flat line, but the cheeks are dusted in pinks and reds and peppered freckles in-between, demure and shy all the while.

He turns his face away soon after that. Another break of silence, and he shuffles again, with your vision on his back as if it were a hiding place.

It startles you out of your stupor. The gridded sunlight lets you analyze what you missed. After months of thinking your feelings would never be reciprocated, Ike thought of you just the same. He’s always been in your corner, and you would go to the ends of the earth for him, and everything is in its perfect position. But his back is still turned, and the memory of last night—your confession, and his inaction—it rushes to your head.

So you reach out instead.

Maybe it’s a little selfish. You’re tired of bumbling around and concealing your true feelings, and now that everything's out in the open, you aren’t about to let go without resolution.

But Ike is your best friend, and the man you fell in love with. There was no way you’d ever let go in the first place.

You wrap your arms around his back and hug Ike.

“I think I get why you were so taken aback last night,” you whisper. Even though you’re alone with Ike, you still say it like a secret. “I can barely believe it myself.”

Your warmth is inviting, and every second that passes is another defense downed. Your head perches right above his neck and along his shoulder. It’s not your first hug with Ike at all, but there’s only been so many since you first met him in person that it still feels special, and with your bodies flush to the floor, it’s intimate. His eyes are averted and one cheek lays down on the blankets, but the tips of his ears glow scarlet under his jewelry. 

“I’m glad you were patient with me. I really didn’t think I had a chance with you. You know, the long distance and the company, and you know, the standard pining fare. I’m really lucky.” A smile slips through your words. “I’ll stay with you, okay? So take all the time you need.”

Ike chuckles. Even his laughter is blushy-bashful. “I’m just so happy you feel the same, too. I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

His body curls as he lays, and your legs brush along his as you cuddle. Holding him makes it feel like he was made to fit in your arms. You sigh. “I love when you can’t contain it. It’s so cute.” 

Ike squeaks at that, and unwittingly proves your point. “It feels so good to say that out loud. I mean, you’re okay with it, right?” A nod. “And you’re okay with… I don’t know. Are we still friends?”

“Of course we are, no matter what. You said you loved me first, so let me say this one?” 

You have a feeling you know what’s coming next. You hug him even tighter.

“Reader, let’s go out. I don’t want this feeling to end,” he confesses, and your world turns into rose and blush. “Can we?”

Though you expected it, he still takes your breath away—until he taps you on the hand. “Come on, say something before my heart explodes!”

“Mine already did! I can’t even think straight, and—I’d love that. I really want this.”

Another squeal breaks out as Ike buries his head into a blanket, and your heart soars as he melts. He resembles a swaddled-up kitten, and the rays of sunlight line his silhouette. The fluffy blanket reminds you of an angel’s downy wings along his kitten features. You can’t even see his face between the blanket and his hair, but his squeal continues, muted through the blanket as he swoons. 

Somehow that only makes you feel even more flustered. “No, don’t hide! I want to see you!”

Maybe it would’ve been better for your heart if he stayed put, because when Ike rises—with disheveled hair and glitter in his eyes the color of seaglass, and jewelry that frames his red face, and that galaxy of freckles you hold so dear and shine like stars between his blush—you feel your heart stop. Again.

“When did you start having this effect on me?” You ask, mesmerized, and before you know it you thumb over one of his rosy cheeks. “Your freckles are so beautiful.”

He sheepishly grins. “They don’t really show up online. They’re pale.”

“Never noticed them until I met you in person. I love them. I love you.”

The grin gets a little wider. One of his fingers grazes along the corner of your ear. Has his hand always been along your jawline?

Ike’s eyes are shining under the grid of sunlight. The lashes flit just a bit lower from your gaze. “Reader, can we…?”

You close your eyes.

And when Ike’s lips graze your own, you smile on instinct before you remember to kiss back. 

Ike brings you near, searching for the taste of you as he continues. His touch lodges past your jawline and into your hair, and when one of the fingers grazes along your ear you’re reminded just how much you love Ike. All the yearning you hid for so long bleeds through as you sink down to his level with his head in your hand, gentle yet impassioned.

Then your face bumps against Ike’s glasses. The kiss breaks as you back away.

There’s a brief pause in the aftermath. Ike wordlessly adjusts his glasses, now knocked off-center. Despite finally getting on the same page on your relationship with Ike, you’re still as clumsy about your feelings as ever.

But the corners of your lips curve up as he inspects the lens you squished, then a barely-stifled giggle, and next thing you know, Ike’s laughing along with you, still underneath your body and with one hand in your hair while the other holds his glasses in place. He sounds as charming as he looks, and the fact that he joined you even when you chuckled out of the blue means that his mind is just as charming as well.

Not that it was breaking news. You know your best friend well, and now that you don’t need to deny your feelings any longer, you know you’ve got good taste if Ike’s under you with crinkled eyes and hearty laughter.

When you speak next, the giggles patter out between your words but the quiet delight hangs in your teeth. “Can we try that again?”

Then his lips are on yours again, and the laughter twists between the second kiss, and the third, and the fourth, all the way until you collapse on the blankets with arms around each other, staring up at the stars on the bland popcorn ceiling as adoration fills the space between you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

bonus.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Starting soon…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The chat flickers alive as a four-pointed flower, a diamond, and a thorned heart give way to the stream and the novelist behind the stinger. 

Kaidororero: welcome back ike!

Min (Ikey’s Book): 💙 IKEY IS BACK 💙

A normal broom: HI IKE

lunasmortas: 💙💙💙

viperip: ike! :_heart: :_heart: :_heart:

Sun shines through a clear day in Ike’s room onscreen, but in reality, blackout curtains block out the day outside. A sweet smile graces both Ike’s face and his model as the Quilldren welcome him home. 

He greets them, and cracks open a can of soda as he quickly scans through the chat. Obviously, the off-collab is on everyone’s minds. 

juuuuuuuuuus: did you have fun?

Kaidororero: offcollab POOOG

lunasmortas: SO CUTE :_heart: :heart:

Johnclone: Hope you had a good time!

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER REAL

Hm. A mod will eventually bonk that message. But then again, it’s inevitable that the ship would come up in chat. 

Ike takes it in stride and ignores it like any other shipper, but his heart still skips a beat. Nonetheless, he doesn’t call any attention to it. “How about that off-collab, right? I met up with my friends! Where do I even begin?”

Ike recounts his trip from the beginning, and the Quilldren react to his stories with interest. He was one of the last to arrive, so Nina, Uki and Reader picked him up from the airport, and met up with Aia, Ren, and Mika at the Airbnb. Vox was the only one to arrive after him, hot off the heels of a flight delay, but the demon was a welcome party all his own despite his exhaustion. 

“We went to karaoke once Vox got situated,” Ike explains. “Nina put that song in first so we could all let loose, and so she would have a fun voice tweet for everyone. Might as well confirm everyone that showed up, right?

“But after that, we didn’t want to stress ourselves out to perform for voice tweets instead of just having fun, so that was the only song we recorded. I wish you could’ve heard Uki and Vox’s duet, though. And while we were singing, turns out Ren packed a ukulele with him! Sometimes he would learn how to play along by ear, like a jam session. Mika knows how to play ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’ too, so everyone joined in singing that while she played it. It was so much fun.”

Johnclone: Everyone sounded great!

sunblast99: uki’s voice >>>>>> everything else 💜💙

haabinae: :_tskr:

Festersk: WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT 🗣🗣

A normal broom: what did you sing?

Ike leans back in his chair. He blows a lock of hair out of his sight as he tries to think. “I remember Vox sang something by George Strait, so then we all egged him on to sing ‘Country Roads.’ He only did it once I promised to queue up ‘Toxicity’ by System of a Down afterwards.”

lunasmortas: OMG 💙💙💙

gatamiizuus: ayo?

Y A M: YESSSSSSS :_tskr: :_tskr:

haabinae: I LOVE SOAD :_fanboy:

Thornmy: SO COOL 💙

“Thank you.” He says it out of obligation. If he thinks too hard about the compliments, he’ll get embarrassed. “What else was there? I think there was some Motionless in White, and Spiritbox. Oh, and My First Story. Can’t forget My First Story.”

K. K. Soda: ooooo

Alban Knox 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : what about mcr

asper ch.: METAL SCREAM?

deeboorgur: HI ALBAN

Y A M: MCR YEAAAAA  :_glowstick_1: :_glowstick_2:

“I’m getting there, Alban!” 

Ike takes a sip while the Quilldren greet Alban. He’s not too surprised Alban seems to know more than the other viewers. He’s close with almost everyone that went on the trip, and was super active on Discord during the off-collab. The novelist lowers his soda as the chat floods in orange hearts. He wonders how Alban learned so much as an observer. He should ask. 

But that’s a question for after stream. Ike continues. “Thank Nina for that. She queued up ‘I’m Not Okay’ by My Chemical Romance, and then shoved two mics in my hands and Reader’s.”

And the chat explodes. 

Kaidororero: OMGGGGGG 💙💕

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER SO CUTE :_tskr:

zZirasthingZz: PEN AND PAPER DUET

asper ch.: AYOOOO MCR

gatamiizuus: I LOVE READER

ystariya: PEN AND PAPER MY BELOVED

“It’s a really fun song! It’s almost all clean vocals, but there’s this scream in the middle. Up until then, we sang together, but then I screamed, and Reader picked up the slack and sang the parts of the verse I couldn’t. They’re amazing.”

gatamiizuus: READER SIMPS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE

Thornmy: THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD

lunasmortas: 💙💕💙💕

ystariya: READER KARAOKE STREAM WHEN

Kaidororero: AWWWWWWW

The model on the screen doesn’t have the same glint in Ike’s eye when he talks about you. That first day of the trip was all about getting comfortable after long travel hours, and the stories went on as the days went by. Sightseeing with Aia and shopping with Uki by day, and spending the night shooting the shit with Ren until it turns into the littlest hours of the morning.

“Vox wanted to try a bunch of different restaurants with me, but you know me, ya boi is not good with most foods. So Nina usually came along in case I couldn’t finish something. She and Vox would share my leftovers.”

Something fond crosses over Ike’s face. His eyes cloud over in fog descending over a clear-sky day. “We would always talk over food about anything. I appreciate it a lot. They really get me.” The fog stills. “And over breakfast one morning, they gave me some excellent advice over something I’ve been meaning to do.”

ver*batim: ❤️💙❤️

K. K. Soda: MILORDDDDD

nroneo: :_heart:

A normal broom: upcoming project? 👀 

Johnclone: I love Nina Kosaka!

“Not a project, no. It was something I was really worried about, even when I was supposed to be taking a break with my friends,” he says. “But those two seriously helped me clear my head about it. Mika, too. Vox and Nina had a lot of nuanced advice, but Mika told it to me straight, and helped handle what I couldn’t. I’m really thankful to have them.”

His set jaw loosens. “Maybe I’ll talk about it one day.”

The model cocks to the side. Motion blurs the foggy sobriety away. With a lightness to his voice and a knowing gaze, Ike looks straight into the camera and smiles, sentimentality forgotten. The air clears. “But for now, it’s a secret~!

“Ah, now where was I? Spending time with my friends, right? Reader and I hung out often. Sometimes with others, but it ended up being the two of us more than not.”

Birds chirp outside Ike’s window in time with the hum of his PC. The backlit keyboard in front of the monitors glows the same color as the computer, a healthy blue light that tints the tips of his fingers. He usually sets it to a rainbow spectrum in his own time, but static blue is reserved for going live. It gets him in the right mindset for streaming, and makes his little apartment feel fantastical like the noble background that accompanies his model, even if it only reaches his fingertips. 

He’s sure the Ike on the screen has fingertips tinged with blue just like him, an extension of the man outside the screen but without the grittier details. Smooth, pristine hands under gloves where his are callused from guitar playing. Nothing under the model’s eyes but lashes and a line of red that brings out the pink in his eyes, very much unlike the heavy bags and sunken face from an awful delay on his flight back home. No freckles, either, but even cameras rarely pick them up on video call. Nina cooed over them the first time they met, as motherly as ever, but behind closed doors Reader was utterly fascinated with them. They mentioned something about watching blush travel around his face with the smattering of freckles in-between once or twice… maybe more? Doesn’t matter when he’s never heard that before and it repeats in his head when he catches himself daydreaming. It’s one of the best things he’s ever heard.

Vtuber Model Ike’s face doesn’t heat up like how Real Ike’s certainly is now. He clears his throat. “The weather was really nice during the entire trip, so we would always get into good conversations while walking back to where we were staying. And sometimes we didn’t want to end the conversation, so we’d just keep walking past our Airbnb until our feet hurt or it got dark, whichever came first. 

“Oh, here’s something funny. Uki really loves cafes, right? Usually he woke up early with Ren to go check out some cafes in the morning, way before the rest of us would even think of waking up. By the time everyone else woke up, they already finished their breakfast, and Uki would tell Reader about the ones to visit or skip. Whenever Uki recommended one, Reader always wanted to go themselves, so I went along to keep them company.” 

Even as his skin returns to its original shade, the sweetness sticks to his throat like the soda he’s barely touched at all. He’s wistful. He didn’t expect to miss Reader this much; after all, his relationship with them has bloomed so much ever since you first started working together, but two weeks together (including mutual close friends) changes things. It’s only been two days since he returned home, but he feels out of rhythm with them. 

He’s gotten too accustomed to them. Over the last few months, he thought he did a good job putting aside his feelings for Reader, even when Nina would tease him after every Pen and Paper collab and Vox and Mika would be right behind her, hyping him up to make a move. The fear of rejection was what motivated him to keep his close friendship with Reader without ever confessing to them.

“Reader…”

The world around him is nothing. Paused to buffer as he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he felt so happy. Just being in the same room as them makes him feel stupid, and surely he’s been acting like it. Everything he says sounds clumsy when he’s with them. After all, on that day when he owned up to the feelings he repressed for so long that he couldn’t properly react to Reader’s confession, he couldn’t say much more than how happy he was. Words fail to describe what Reader means to him, yet he’s a novelist, for crying out loud! How ironic!

“...Reader is so patient with me,” Ike says. “And they’re so considerate and dedicated. I wish I told them that earlier. It’s hard to say things out loud like this, but you only meet people like Reader once in a lifetime if you’re lucky, and even then, there’s no one quite like Reader.”

ystariya: i love reader

Kaidororero: pen and paper awwww

Y A M: PEN AND PAPER

acklmystafoot: ike is so sweet!!!

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : 💙

“Aaah!”

Ike recoils like his keyboard is flaming lava. The model on the screen leans back and freezes in place while he nearly throws himself out of his chair. “R-Reader! What are you doing here?!”

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : FKJLJJSLKFJDKS LMAOOOOOOOO

Johnclone: Hello Reader!

Y A M: OMG

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : just wanted to say hi

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : hi!

Festersk: LMAO

Ike sputters out nothing but empty air and nervous laughter. “Haha. Um. Hi! Welcome!”

Stupid! He wants to kick himself. He’s made improvement on verbalizing affection, and he’s comfortable with Reader, especially now that there aren’t any secrets left, but he’s still so unfamiliar with affection being returned that his heart is still doing kickflips in his chest. 

haabinae: :_blush: :_blush: :_blush:

juuuuuuuuuus: most normal pen and paper moment

Thornmy: AWWW

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : check discord

A normal broom: Oh?

“Ah, okay! Give me a second.” Ike keeps his Discord on mute, and usually disables desktop notifications when he’s live, so he’s not surprised to open the window to unread messages and some non-urgent pings. Sure enough, Reader sent him something.

Reader: because you were talking about cafes

Reader: image.png (3)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Oh I recognize these from our first date!

It’s been over a week now, but just saying he went on a date with Reader has him squeezing his legs together so his feet wouldn’t start kicking in the air. 

Reader: ahh you remembered! 

Me: I should’ve figured you took more pictures than the ones you showed me

Reader: dw i have more i wanted to show you

Reader: image.png (8)    | 💙 1 |

Me: Seriously how are you so good at photography I don’t get it-

Me: You’re really pretty in this one!

Me: UGHHHH WHY DO I LOOK SO WEIRD    | ❌ 1 | 💕 1 |

Me: I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE YOU TAKE THIS ONE

Reader: WTH YOU’RE NOT WEIRD

Reader: YOU’RE LITERALLY SO HANDSOME WHY DO YOU  T H I N K  I TOOK THAT PIC

Well, great, now he’s actually kicking in his seat. Ike is inclined to disagree, but when Reader says it, it’s a super-effective attack on his poor little novelist heart. 

Me: Akaslwdnja

Me: Thank you 😭

Reader: anyways i gotta go i stream in 20 min and i’ve barely eaten my food

Me: Go eat! Do you have enough water?

Reader: just refilled my bottle

Me: Good then don’t let me keep you! Have a good stream!

And before he can overthink it, in the moment—

Me: I love you!

His sights are set on his second monitor.

Reader is typing…

Reader doesn’t have to respond. Sometimes just saying it is enough. 

Reader: fdsjdfkl.

Ike’s been trying to relearn that lesson ever since he realized everything he repressed was reciprocated.

Reader: i love you too, ike

Words heard across the world, one of the people he holds most dear.

His heart beats loud in his ears, but he can feel it slow, somehow. Reader is exhilarating, but there’s security in them, too. The nerves kick in until he remembers they’re just as exposed as the other, and the vulnerability generate a sense of comfort. Reader makes him feel understood like no one else in the world does, and he trusts them more than anything.

He does. He does, he does, he does, even if he only has the strength to say it one at a time. Ike is in love.

Reader: i’ll let you know when i’m done streaming, we can watch a movie together after

Me: It’s a date!    | 💕 1 |

It takes him a moment to tear his gaze away from your messages. 

His streaming monitor reflects his movements. The chat moves along. Blue light spreads through his fingertips, just like how he imagines Vtuber Model Ike’s hands resting on his own keyboard, an extension of the man outside the screen, proof of the fantastical.

“They sent me something.” Ike’s laughter is gentle. “I really do love them.”

The chat zooms past, as expected. Surely that would get clipped alongside the off-collab Q&A, but he can’t seem to care. He doubts the fandom would really understand how deep the connection goes, and if they do? Some things are just meant to be private.

Besides, on the day Ike and Reader get comfortable enough in their relationship to go public, he knows the Quilldren have his back, just like Reader and their Bookworms. 

“Reader, if you’re still there, we need to meet up again,” Ike says. “I don’t know when, but one day.”

A flurry of messages, but only one truly matters.

Reader 【NIJISANJI EN】 ✓ : i wouldn’t miss it for the world

The model onscreen grins. It pales in comparison to Ike himself.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊commentary ↣

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

#ike eveland x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland fluff #ike eveland angst #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #4402 writes #🖋 anon #fanfic is unrealistic and i know this because clippers would NEVER use semicolons in their captions #eating string cheese wrong is symbolic. it represents eavesdropping and shitty lies that go unnoticed #i hope i never see a typo in this thing this fic is literally impossible to edit on mobile #update: there were typos. and i had to wait 3 minutes for the editor to load on my laptop before i could fix them. rip #pliskinverse

[hwaightme]

Like the cherry blossom falls

(masterlist) (join taglist)

🌸 pairing: yunho x gn!reader 🌸 genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, naturalism/slice of life 🌸 summary: every spring is a beginning, and you cannot imagine it without jeong yunho, your friend through the many years. but as the cherry blossoms fall, what will happen when you fall the same? 🌸 wordcount: 5.3k 🌸 warnings/tags: language, memories, mutual pining, from school to college, a lot of spring musings, barely edited mention of food/eating, banter between friends, mention of exams, waiting for love, discussion of love, time, hope 🌸 taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts 🌸 a/n: happy yunho day! our ray of sun, our spring day, the one who gives and works so hard... thank you for everything you do, and wishing you the brightest, happiest days filled with love to come <3 much love, big hugs, all reblogs, notes, comments welcome <3

It was the first warm day in spring. The breeze, which gently tousled your locks and made the bright green trees rustle, was still a little cool – the breath of nature after months of slumber, tucked under a snow-white blanket. The sun rays caressed your skin like a sweet embrace and turned the young flora into a glistening, gold toned paradise. It was a time for new beginnings, a time when dreams felt so marvelously within reach, and daily routines transformed into a pleasant waltzing sequence.

This bright spring day compelled one to metamorphose and take on change with newfound vigour – as you took in your surroundings, even though you were tucked away out of the action, sticking to the sitting area outside of your beloved convenience store, you could feel this energy buzzing all around. The enthusiastic chatter of locals resting under flourishing tree canopies, small groups ambling next to the picturesque riverbank, tired, but satisfied smiles on their faces, in wait for the offerings that the coming hours, days, weeks would undoubtedly bring. 

Your decision to move to Seoul for your studies had been nothing short of awe-inspiring – a gift that kept on giving. And any time you felt like you could not go on, and the gloomy weather settled into your heart and clouded your mind, you would remember the tranquil spring days which had been there for you through thick and thin, since the very beginning. Just like the dancing cherry blossom petals soaring into the skies after a mischievous gust of wind would invite them for a twirl, your worries would dissipate and join the floral confetti, nothing more than memories dotting your vision. Full stops over which you stepped towards another season.

This breeze that spurred you on, encouraged you, kept you going and became your pair of wings throughout your life took on many forms. One, the most important of all, was in the form of a boy, now a man who had grown from pulling your hair for fun to now making your heart flutter. The man who had just so happened to inadvertently plan his near future with you and made the choice to follow you to the big city. The man who was sitting across from you, his brown doe eyes glinting with gold from the sun that filtered through one of the pink-hued trees, it having left a gift atop his crown of dark, lustrous hair in the form of one petal. You were not exactly sure how you got here, and how the years had only made you closer, but you would not trade it for the world.

A tranquil late afternoon by the peacefully meandering river, cheeks stuffed with cheap ramen that tasted like memories and a hope for forever, tears springing to your eyes as you struggled to not burst out laughing while your best friend imitated one of your lecturers. His mischief and boyish eagerness to elicit the biggest reaction from you was enough to make your heart hurt, and the way he had to splay his legs out in order to not fall from the flimsy plastic chair – your spot outside the convenience store that had become your shared safe haven, was simply endearing. It was impossible to ever get tired of the radiance, the unfiltered, puppy-like energy that this wonderful man who you had the honour of having in your life exuded.

Had anyone told you five years ago, let alone ten that you would be in love with Jeong Yunho you would have laughed in the poor messenger’s face. Your shared path with him was more accidental than anything. Similar journeys home, similar interests. Even answering the question of how, or when you had become friends perplexed you to this day, with you being unable to pinpoint a specific moment. Sometimes, in him you still saw the excited school kid, clad in a crisp ironed navy uniform, running towards you to show off a particularly cool stick that was totally shaped like a laser gun from an anime, or the kid who dragged you to the arcade as soon as lessons finished. But with one spring replacing another, and with each new refreshed blanket of pink on the ground appearing more gorgeous than before, an innate, growing longing bloomed in your chest. And thus, you had come to treat what you had previously deemed an accident, a mistake or a coincidence as serendipity.

As your gaze followed the stubborn petal, Yunho’s movements grounded to a halt until he was staring right back at you, confusion written across his features.

“Hey, I’m not explaining maths or anything, why so spaced out?”

“Hm? No, I’m not spacing out… Actually, this will keep on bothering me, wait-” your body moved on its own accord as you set down your chopsticks and the foil which you had folded into a makeshift bowl onto some plastic packaging. Leaning over the table, you gingerly pinched the spring snowflake and held it out for Yunho to observe, smiling softly as he lifted one of his hands and cradled it.

“Well, would you look at that! I had a little hat on and didn’t even know about it!” and just like that, the petal ended up on your friend’s hair once again, only this time it was hanging on for all its worth as he launched into a seated fashion show, hands on hips and flaunting the new look. “So, how is it?”

“Stunning. Immaculate drip.” You responded without missing a beat and raised your eyebrows once in approval.

Yunho chuckled, picking off the petal and letting it fall onto the table, landing right by his bottle of water. He took his time with lifting his eyes to meet yours, wondering if the outwardly comical statement contained any element of appreciation. For as long as he had known you, there was one thing that remained constant, and that was that you were someone who was immensely challenging to learn and read, unless you openly wished for it to happen. But he would be lying if he said that it was not enthralling. As he let the breeze cool his lightly blushing cheeks – something of a permanent installation when he was around you, Yunho placed his elbows onto the table and cradled his head in his hands.

“Now you have to sign an NDA, you’ve seen the new spring collection.” He joked, a nod to the job that you had taken on prior to the start of the academic year, which had resulted in many midnight coffee runs, one conversation after another of Yunho keeping you sane enough to last until the end of particularly exhausting days, and a revelation that what you had been feeling was indeed, not an illusion. Fortunately for you, while you were afraid of misinterpretation, you sensed that what you had come to realise only now might just be reciprocated.

“Oh gosh one more mention of that and I will scream.” You shook your head, and dramatically stretched out your arm to lie on the table, hair cascading over the sleeve as a jacket, cushioning your temple. While the situation behind Yunho’s words was less than pleasant, he made it sweet by preserving it – like a pressed flower or leaf in a book, he kept a precious collection of your and his happenings. Yunho had a talent for remembering anything and everything that you shared with him, to the point where you were certain that there were a number of events that he probably could recall much better than you ever could.

“Come on, your internship wasn’t that bad.” a chuckle, a gentle tap on your hand that lasted a little too long, giving you ample opportunity to muster some courage and grasp at his jacket’s sleeve to prevent him from breaking contact. The barely audible gasp, replaced by a bashful silence and a return of the pressure of his hand on your forearm was confirmation enough that your spontaneity was right. Nonchalant, you continued.

“Except that it was like I was stranded in a deathmatch at the hardest possible level, overwhelmed inside, disconnected from outside.”

“I mean… in principle… that means you reached the match and hey, normally those maps are cool?” he seemed to have returned from his daze in record speed, though beaming a little brighter and perky from the game reference.

“So was that place… until- ah, too gloomy.” You attempted to lift yourself up, but one glance to Yunho’s resting hand had you forgetting that idea altogether, so you settled for a simple raising of the head, “Whatever, you heard me rant about all of this anyways. Let’s discuss the quality style instead.”

The action made Yunho retract nonetheless – ever so polite, and so you took to keeping your head in one hand, admiring your friend through blissful, lenses the colour of cherry blossoms. You noted how Yunho moved the feast that you had bought further away, and turned so that you would be facing each other directly.

“Yes please, I will have to ask you to expand on that wonderful statement.” He winked: a lighthearted ruse to keep himself together and not give away the kind of effect that you had on him.

“I am this close to taking my words back.” Almost pinching your thumb and index finger together, you shot back.

“Nuh-huh, I wore my special denim jacket today you can’t do this.”

“Yes, I can. And can remind you of your much more iconic looks.”

“Curious. Which one?” as soon as the question left him, you languidly pushed yourself from the metal, and leaned in close, closer, and closer until you were the reason for Yunho being on the verge of short circuiting. You were rarely this forward; any semblance to seeking contact was the odd accidental brush as you would walk side by side, but this, this was something else entirely and he was not prepared. If anything, this was reminiscent of what his imagination would conjure – so far removed from common reality that he was thinking spring itself was playing tricks.

“You… wrapped up…” your voice dropped into a whisper, and Yunho held his breath in trepidation, “in a duvet at the library.”

It was surprising just how much relief an unexpected humorous memory could bring. Recalling the basic fact that he was a human, and that he was to be socially appropriate even around the closest, most precious person in his life, he let out a sharp exhale and an airy chuckle. At least he had the time you were inferring as clear as day in his brain.

“Ah, you mean the time you were wearing the fuzzy onesie?”

“It was-”

“-finals week. Second year. We really popped off on those fits.” He completed your sentence smugly. Any other time, he would have probably crossed his arms or raised them up in a mock victory, but you kept him frozen in place.

A quietude washed over you. Muted, mutual reminiscing. Time to relive what had been, turning into awe at the fact that in the flurry of ponderings, of long gone snippets that twirled around in your mind palace, most were with this beautiful man.

“Yeah.” “Yeah.”

Was all either of you could utter, before falling back into an expectant silence. There was always a shift between the winter and spring, at least that was how you liked to describe it. It was in the scent that graced your room as soon as you opened the window. It was in the longer days, with somnolent darkness being replaced by a budding brilliance, reflecting in soft leaf buds and the beginnings of pollen – nature’s fairy dust. And just like this, from the slumber of a comfortable, amiable and cosy winter time, a shift between you and Yunho could be detected. On the first warm day in spring, as the blossoms rained down, the petal that was on your table now rejoicing upon having found an adventurous companion that landed only millimetres away. While you could never answer the question of how you got so lucky to have Yunho, you were inspired to guess how the continuation of what you had could unfold, if you wished for this flower to bloom and meet the coming seasons. The mere notion made you feel warm, unlike the rapidly cooling ramen that you were unlikely to return to any time soon. Last wisps of steam were escaping the containers, along with the illusion that this spring was to be just like any other.

“By the way, just for the record, banter aside, you do look really good, okay?”

He wanted to poke fun at you for your habit of playfully attacking and then immediately falling back into a truce – fearful of the possibility that you had hurt your interlocutor’s feelings, but found it to be too endearing to ever comment on. It was normally the time when you were most vulnerable, and the time when you had let most of your true feelings slip through your friendly, yet naturally reserved demeanour. Your expression was unreadable, but there was a tantalising tension that was luring him in. Suddenly, the table was very much in Yunho’s way, and led him to spontaneously rise from his chair, pick it up, flinching as he overestimated the weight and nearly hit himself with the back, and step around the picnic table to set it down next to you. You raised an eyebrow, puzzled, but your intuition was good enough to figure out the response, so you simply seized the chance to give your secret everything a onceover, as if you were seeking confirmation for the statement that had already been established in unwavering truth.

“It’s the jacket you picked out, so of course. But thank you.” Deflecting the generalisation, Yunho focused on the article of clothing, the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink as he inspected it.

“Oh? OH! Yeah! I spammed you with the link to it!” you clicked the fingers of your free hand, agreeing.

“Yeah, but it was not on sale then, so I hunted it down until it was.”

“Well damn don’t I have good taste.” You mumbled, questioning your own ambiguity. Did you really mean the jacket?

“Yep, and in people too.” And that was your answer. Yunho mirrored you, setting an elbow on the table, a gleam dancing on his lips.

“How sneaky! But you do have a very good point, the universe did do good on this one.”

Unable to refrain from the gesture, you reached out to pat the top of his head. It must had been somewhere in the beginning of high school that Yunho became known as the ‘golden retriever’ type, the puppy boy, the energiser. And right about then, you had started to find immense joy in ruffling his hair, be it to praise, or in encouragement, or just because you had not done it in a long time. And while he would normally pout or roll his eyes, not once did he not tilt his head into the sensation. As you took your hand away, you noticed that he intuitively followed. A smile settled on your features as you sank into the indescribable unity. Not needing words to communicate, you sank into his dark orbs, their magnificent glint shining brighter for you than the afternoon sun and the glittering river.

Had you not been looking so intently at him, and had he been able to take his own eyes away, Yunho would have been pinching himself repeatedly to gain confidence that this was all real. You were the one who he had always quietly admired, the one who he always spotted in a crowd, his desire to achieve, to try his best, his confidence and his blue sky. You were the reason why he had so much focus. He had never experienced the tumultuous feverish youthful love – it was easy when only one person could ever be his motivation, inspiration, the keeper of his adoration. He tried to be with other people, tried to be close with other people. But that was all it was, some ‘other’, when all that mattered was ‘you’.

If one were to assess his situation objectively, Yunho’s feelings towards you were ridiculous. A mess of emotion that he could never untie, the beginning of the knot having faded into a distant oblivion, and him having no intentions of ever tearing the threads apart. Having only ever been acquaintances, friends, best friends, he had no foundation to build his romantic feelings on, at least that was what he repeatedly told himself, and yet, here he was, years deep and pining like a fool.

The spring only made him reminisce about how his feelings had grown in the shade of his turbulent, busy life, amongst the daily worries and a packed schedule, budding flower rising through the cracks to turn into a garden in his psyche. He almost did not want to unlock its gates out of fear that the beauty he had cultivated would be dispelled, and, considering you and him having your respective dreams and aspirations, he had previously felt it would be unjust to impose himself upon you. But much like the cherry blossoms that twirled and fell to the ground that still retained some of the February chill, he only fell deeper, and if he did not make the decision for himself, the garden would do it for him and more and eventually, the flowers of his fascination would consume him whole.

“Do you remember how we met?”

“Why are you asking me this out of the blue?” when you only received a motion with the chin to proceed, you pretended as if you were trying to remember, “That was so long ago-”

“But do you?” he persisted, frustrated at having to drag the answer out of you.

“Do I… Honestly? No. I tried to remember but my mind draws a blank.”

Just as he was expecting, middle school was one big void, out of which only one constant remained, and that one constant was currently stifling a chuckle. It never failed to amaze Yunho how you could quote show after show, novel after novel, occasionally refer him to a particular page in a textbook because, apparently ‘the shape of the text was kind of funny so it stuck in your head’, but when it came to people, you drew a blank. Maybe it was just him. Or at least that was the part that hurt him, and the part that he needed to bring to light if he was going to lay all his card out on the table and risk your friendship.

“Classic, Y/N, classic.”

“Well you are my brain cell after all. An unhinged one that has long lunch breaks, but I’m taking what I can get.”

“That is an interesting way to compliment.”

“And I have heard you on voice chat on Valorant so I think we are pretty even.”

Whether it was his nerves or his infatuation that made him so easily affected by you, he could not tell, but the comment was enough to make him break into a fit of giggles, calmed down only by him massaging the back of his neck and reclining into his chair to collect his thoughts. If he were to be any closer to you physically, he was not confident in how he would act. Narrowing your eyes, you detected the change in his behaviour, the subtle tint of worry, and bit back any remarks.

“Fair. But now, no laughing, okay?”

“Okay? That is ominous, but… go for it?”

Everything had gained an unexpected loudness. From the colours that you were bathed in to the symphony of sound that accompanied your conversation, your heart was accelerating. Finely attuned to a series of delighted shouts from afar – a pair of teens strolling down the pathway at the riverbank, you imagined it to be you and Yunho. In fact, that had been you and Yunho back in your hometown. While you could not pinpoint quantitatively, with ease you recollected the warmth. The giddiness of youth that had gradually matured into being each other’s number one fans. Much like those adolescents by the Han River, you had given each other pep talks, screamed your heads off for therapeutic reasons, and watched the sun lazily move across the sky, waving you goodbye as you entered first school, then university.

It was with Yunho that you understood the idea of someone becoming something like a limb. Or a part of your identity. It was so easy being with Yunho, that you simply forgot how time passed. Much like how one was not conscious of when they were using their hand, instead focusing on the words typed out on a phone screen, you had experienced life with, and through Yunho. He was always there – a constant in the chaos, and without being aware of it, you had flourished independently thanks to him believing that you could. The one supporter of your radical ideas. Number one fan. Reassuring you through actions time and time again that he was always ready to help, and you could only hope that you had done the same.

“So… um… Y/N.”

“Are you about to give me a speech?” you interjected, making the young man whine.

“Shut up for a second I am processing at high speeds here.”

“Okay, okay.” You at upright, placing your hands on the armrests, as though you were about to stand up. Perhaps it was to be the case, as you could barely hear Yunho over the sound of your pulse in your ears.

“Anyways, as I was saying. Y/N. We didn’t exactly meet. We uh… well I ran into someone, and you were walking by. At least that is how I see it.”

Yunho’s eyes fluttered shut as he visualised the scene in front of him. The chase, the hit, the whistle of the referee. How just as he was trying to stand up, a girl his age, one he had seen sitting on the other side of the classroom, was already rushing towards him and yelling that he should stop moving or his injuries will get worse.

“Huh?”

“That time, I was in football practice and decided to, you know, touch some grass quite literally, but didn’t realise that grass and gravel would give pretty nasty cuts.”

“And?”

“You gave me cool band aids.”

“Huh? Did I?”

“Yeah, it had like… superheroes on it and stuff. So, needless to say you got instant respect from me.” That interaction gave him band aids, a packet of wet wipes and an interest in you that he struggled to resist. As you left the field, he had watched the charm on your backpack swaying back and forth, a pendulum hypnotising him.

“Glad to know… Is that the whole meeting?” you asked, Yunho’s certain delivery and courage making you cower.

“Let me continue. Okay, going from there, you also shut down some rumours basically at their source. Oh, and you had brought me homework and notes for two weeks straight while I was sick.”

“You lived nearby so it made sense to do-” putting one of his hands over yours was only natural, and any prior tentativeness had dissipated.

“And let me say, this is all in the span of one term. One school term. Just freshly started the school year and you’re out here being cute and shit and then totally oblivious.” His speech accelerated to the degree that you wanted to remind him that he was not presenting in class and fighting a time limit. If he were to take the step forward, he needed to be sure that this was what he wanted. The wind picked up its pace, and the trees shuddered.

“What are you getting at?” to encourage him, you flipped your hand around and intertwined your fingers with his, the action sending something reminiscent of an electric shock through your system. But you were not about to expose your exhilaration.

“Mmm… I think you know.” He shied away, gawking at the palms pressed together as though it was a work of art. You did the same, though managed to utter:

“I might do but finish your point.” Yunho huffed in agreement and squeezed a couple of times, confirming that this was real.

“So, you tell me that you don’t deserve my help or that I do too much right?” a new wave of passion flared up in his tone, demanding your attention. The rays that melt away the winter chill prevalent in the voice, any argument not feasible. However, you were not one to not try leaving your two cents, especially not when you could count the number of barriers and filters that you relied on dropping to an unmistakable zero.

“Yeah, right, because that’s true.”

“No, because that is bullshit. I am basically paying you back, and never will be able to. Because you have given me nothing but kindness. And every single bit is like a petal.” Words spilling over one another, Yunho shared his soul. With one swipe, he picked up a stray petal from the table and lifted it: “Yeah, see? Like this one.” Shaking it a couple of times, he flicked it away to let it spin to join its family on the ground. “And they just keep on falling and falling and falling and falling and I am falling along with them too. These little gestures, how you stayed up to make sure I came back to the dorms safe, how you… seriously it is impossible to list everything okay?!”

It was as if someone had lit a match, and your body contained nothing but gasoline. Your suspicions had been proven right, and the words were heavenly music.

“Wait… come back to the falling part again. As you say. Expand on that?”

“Shit…”

“Now that’s not romantic.”

“Oh, come on.” Yunho tried to pry himself away, awkward laughed bubbling up, but now that he had given you a glimpse into his feelings, you were not about to abandon them – not when he had recounted moments of when your actions were what reached his heart.

“Look, Yunho. We have known each other for long enough to read the vibe. And I can feel that you are terrified. Guess what. I am terrified too. In the same way. So, say it. For both of us.” You peered into his eyes, smiling, relieved that Yunho was more pleased than you imagined he would be.

“How about… we say it on the count of three?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. If we are about to ruin things, then let’s just say we crossed the finish line together.”

Ruin. If there was anything else to ruin, it was only the ramen that was definitely stale and soggy at this point. But love knew no earthly needs, only the game of chance and destiny.

“Well damn, okay. Fine. If that helps you.”

“One, two, three-”

“I like you.” “I like you.” The phrase resonated like a plucked guitar string, two voices turning into one, with neither of you capable of holding back laughter as the three words that previously were an unbearable load now joined the spring air, the vibrancy and rejoicing of nature, carried away by the breeze. Commenting on how both of you went for the safer option, you leaned closer to one another, a magnetism tugging you along.

“You look like you are debating whether to let your now-approved impulsive thoughts win or not.”

“And you look like you really want them to win.”

“You know it.”

“Are you su-”

Yunho’s eyes shot wide open as you leaned in and cut him off by locking your lips with his. Time stood still as he searched for any sign that he was dreaming, alas, none was to be found. It was your plush, rosy lips against his, a perfect harmony. Those lips that he had spent too long staring at, that haunted him, now capturing him whole. The brightest sun in his chest that rivalled the one that left your practically glowing. Relaxing into the newfound heaven, he brushed back a strand and returned the kiss, slowing its pace to a sultry exploration, a worship of the moment that, even compared to the years that had preceded it, was an eternity that he wanted to sink into and never come out of.

“Who’s impulsive now?” only when his, and your lungs were burning for oxygen did you pull away, and were face to face with a goofy, adorable grin, playfully taunting you.

“Not me. I am cool, calm, and calculated.” You replied, your voice still airy.

“And I waited long enough.”

This was you, in plural. Yunho guided you out of the white chairs and stood to wrap an arm around your waist. You had hugged before, as friends. As friends who wanted more. He wanted to scream out at every bird and passer-by that you felt the same as him. Elated, you melted into one another as your lips reconnected, the perfectly connected puzzle pieces. You tasted of memories and a hope for forever – also known as what you had been having for lunch, but suddenly, that interesting flavour choice was his favourite. Your arms snaked around him, and slipped under his jacket to protect themselves from the flurry of flowers. Even when you pulled away, your foreheads remained pressed together, eyelashes almost touching, and you rocked slowly, side to side, in a silent dance. Embraced by the spring of love. Yunho nuzzled into the crook of your neck, enveloping himself in all that was you. More than he could ever have hoped for. You wondered if he would tear up, but instead he mumbled, dumbfounded:

“So, we are like… a thing now.” You snorted, amused at the choice of words.

“Thing.” Yunho raised his head again to give you a worried glance.

“I am so scared to call you my girlfriend, I seriously think you will disappear if I do.” He explained, hugging you tighter.

It was charming, and simple enough to understand. Much like fearing snowfall in the early days of a floral reawakening, he could not bear the possibility of you fading into an extended frost. But now you were certain, that as much as he was your always, you were his. It could be that you had never considered romance before because you had already committed yourselves to one another so early, that they was never time to process. Hence why you judged your shared life only by the constant. By Yunho.

“But I was here the whole time?” you were no fool to believe that this was the same. Even in the year or so that you had carried the burden of hiding adoration, it was only yours to keep. You had been his, just the title and privileges were a little different.

“But now is even better. I get to call you mine officially.” After a pause where he got lost in his musings, he added, with a euphoric grin, “Too early to say I love you?”

“Ten years isn’t enough time?”

“I mean romantically…”

“Kiss me again and say the words, this is a threat.” You whispered, and pulled him in gently, your hands moving forward, and tugging at the collar of his jacket as you close the space once more, entranced by the magic.

Like the cherry blossoms fell around you, you fell for Jeong Yunho, and he for you. Through the years, you had seen one another’s ups, downs, spirals, and lines. You had adored the best and worked through the worst. No matter the season.

Spring was time for new beginnings. And while the comfort, the ease, the person were all the same, the future promised a myriad of fresh pink blossoms, the petals celebrating your new journey.

#kflixnet #k-labels #cultofdionysusnet #ateezlovenet #MeetMeAtTheCherryTree23 #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho x y/n #jeong yunho x you #yunho x you #yunho x y/n #yunho x reader #ateez #ateez yunho #ateez jeong yunho #yunho fluff #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #happy yunho day #kpop fluff #kpop imagine #kpop writers #kpop writing #ateez au

[yanderehsr]

Had to make another Masterlist because each one can only hold 100 links

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Clingy behaviour, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Murder, Violence

Shenhe Headcanons

Breaking up with Childe

Jing Yuan, Blade, Luocha and Caelus with Noelle reader

Ayato, Itto and Kafka with a reader who confesses then runs away Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Blade, Kafka and Silver Wolf with attention needy vampire

March 7th, Himeko and Dan Heng with reader that has Silver Wolf powers

Breaking up with Himeko

Lyney, Freminet and Lynette with mermaid reader Part 2

Aether, Kafka and Venti with reader who refuses to eat

Jing Yuan, Dan Heng and Blade with Nilou reader

Blade, Kafka and Silver Wolf with a baker reader

How Silver Wolf, Blade and Kafka celebrate your birthday

Zhongli with an adeptus reader

Neuvillette with a Kafka reader Part 2

Nanook, Imbibitor Lunae and Dan Heng with flirty reader

Tingyun, Navia and Yoimiya with chubby reader

Tighnari, Venti, Freminet and Wanderer with reader who likes taller people

How Himeko will get reader dependant on her

Furina with a clingy reader

Kafka, Hu Tao, Yae Miko and Silver Wolf with a reader who wants a collar with their name on it

Raiden Ei, Furina and Lumine with a reader who makes plushies Part 2

Columbina, Arlecchino and Jing Yuan with a foxian reader

Breaking up with Natasha

Kokomi with a detective reader

Jing Yuan and Luocha fighting over reader

Himeko, Silver Wolf, Stelle and Bronya with Lumine reader who has a breakdown

Furina with willing reader

Breaking up with Diluc

Arlecchino and Kafka with weak reader

Breaking up with Wriothesley

Witch Natasha with Princess reader

Aether, Venti and Kafka with a sick darling

Stelle, Lumine and Paimon with ghost child reader

Zhongli, Dottore, Neuvillette and Tighnari with a reader who doesn't want children

Arlecchino, Natasha, Himeko and Kafka with a reader who dies

Svarog, Luka and Blade with Klee reader Part 2

Blade, Jing Yuan and Topaz with Ghost catcher reader

Asta with Himeko's younger sister reader

Breaking up with Hu Tao, Lyney and Lynette

Kafka and Silver Wolf convincing reader to join Stellaron Hunters

Imbibitor Lunae, Venti and Aether trying to get reader back after a break up Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Venti, Aether and Wriothesley with an escaped reader

Breaking up with Abyss Prince Aether

Natasha, Yukong and Topaz with a Stellaron Hunter reader

Jingliu, Jing Yuan, Blade and Imbibitor Lunae with a reader who looks like Baiheng

Breaking up with Kazuha and Lisa

Yandere headcanons about Hajime Hinata and Kokichi Ouma

Alhaitham, Signora, Jingliu and Hubert with reader who thinks they are unhappy

Marianne with an outgoing reader

Arlan when his partner gets injured

Yandere Headcannons about Mikan Tsumiki

Wishing happy birthday to Kazuha

March 7th, Stelle, Seele and Tingyun when reader takes a hit meant for them

Albedo fic: Attempt 7497

Bennett, Keqing and Lynx when no one comes to your birthday party

Yandere headcanons about Ayaka

Claude and Dimitri with a reader who's loved one just passed away

Sugar mommy Topaz when you get tired of her being your sugar mommy

Blade, Caelus, Kokichi Ouma and Shuichi Saihara with an idol reader

The power imbalance between reader and Yukong

Sylvain with a fiance reader who grows apart from him

Topaz, Serval and Cocolia with an autistic reader

Blade, Jing Yuan and Luocha with a reader who dies by protecting them

Nagito Komaeda, Junko Enoshima and K1-b0 with an evil reader

Yandere headcanons about Doc

Breaking up with Freminet and Navia

Yandere headcanons about Bernadetta

Yandere headcanons about Argenti

Jing Yuan with a burnt out reader

Jean, Eula and Amber with a knight of favonius reader who wants to quit

Breaking up with Ruan Mei

Comforting Huohuo

Jing Yuan and Yanqing leashing their darling

Yandere headcanons about Dr. Ratio

Ruan Mei, Edelgard, Junko Enoshima and Cocolia, who is most likely to break you

Furina and Hu Tao comforting reader after a break up

Dimitri meeting reader at the goddess tower

Yandere headcanons about Aventurine

Kafka if Elio asked her to kill reader

Yandere headcanons about Firefly

Yandere headcanons about Thoma

Breaking up with Furina and Eula

Paimon reader: Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Yandere headcanons about Black Swan

Hope you'll enjoy😄

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere male #yandere female #masterlist

[hwaitham]

𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓾𝓷𝓪𝓻𝔂 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚

hatori sohma x f!reader. nsfw — mdni. established relationship ﾉ soff' sex ﾉ reader is rather clingy :3 ﾉ praise + sweet hatori + u're both so in love with each other n' this whole thing is so cheesy n' prosy um ! ! ! ﾉ the sohma curse hasn't been broken yet in this fic ﾉ vry slight infantilization ﾉ petnames ﾉ foreplay heavy ﾉ finger sucking bcos ! ! oooo ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა

you are tired, tired. you are very tired.

even with your eyes closed and head laying in a pool of moonlight, you cannot find it within yourself to sleep.

because he is not here—your hatori. it’s hard to fall into a peaceful slumber without being wished a goodnight by him; you must be tucked in, fluffy quilt pulled up to your chin and his thumb smoothing over the lift of your cheeks before your eyelids are kissed so you’re blessed with nothing but the sweetest dreams of you and him.

alas, he isn’t here. so you do what you can when you’re cold and alone in his bed; through heavy half-blinks, you watch the snowfall outside the bedroom window, dusting the branches of the old oak tree in the garden and piling up on the sill. 

you’ll have to ask hatori when he comes home whether he would join you in playing in it tomorrow, building a snowman like you did two winters ago when he confessed his love for you.

(you placed his stethoscope around the neck of packed snow, his glasses over the pebbled eyes, pulled him out of his office by the sleeve of his doctor’s coat—hatori, doesn't this snowman look like you? he'd realized it seemingly doesn’t take much for him to fall.)

you smile thinking of that time, dream of all the times to come, happy and sad and everything in between. you wait and wait some more, and just as the throbbing in your chest starts to become a bit too unbearable, the smells of tobacco and mint begin to shroud your senses until all can feel is the fluttering breeze of calming fingertips breathe occasional kisses on your spine.

the sudden heat that cuts through the frigid air surrounding you rattles you awake, sends goosebumps down your legs and flushes your limbs full of light—it fills the gaping hole in your heart, the one that aches for him, the one that can only be healed by him.

“hatori?”  

before the heels of your palms can find your eyes to scrub out the sleep from them, they’re taken a hold of by a larger hand—pruned fingertips squeezing gently, soothingly down on your wrist. “i’m here.”

“you’re here,” you whisper, smile drowsily when you hear your lover’s voice over the hot shell of your ear, his words followed by a lingering kiss.

“go back to sleep, dear.”

“uh huh…” 

you’re too tired to tell him you weren’t exactly sleeping in the first place.

disregarding his qualms, you blindly feel around for him, shuffling through the sheets and pillows until you find his shoulders—strong and broad and honey-hued as he sits before you with his torso bare, silk pyjamas hanging low on his hips. 

“i missed you…”

you do everything you can but embrace him, pull him down to the bed, cling to his bicep and rub your nose along the handsome vein of his neck, feel him up entirely beneath your greedy paws. hatori is lean and defined with layers of taut muscle, but you notice he’s starting to get a bit soft around the waist; there’s the tiniest bit of fat you’re able to pinch between your thumb and index finger, and you can only giggle to yourself at the fact. 

you’re feeding me well.

it’s told to you silently in his barely-there smile pressed against the tresses of your hair that scatter over a pillow. when he inhales a breath, his nostrils fill with juniper and aquatic accord. 

you smell like him. 

you must have sprayed his cologne onto the sheets.

“missed you s’much.”

hatori laughs wistfully, shakes his head when you whine, nuzzle your forehead over his cheek in that endearing puppy-like way you do. “you missed me so much? i was only gone a few hours.”

you hum idly, sleep quickly overtaking you now that your lover is in your hold. as much of it as he can be in, at least. 

his body is warm, gently warm. not searing; rather faintly, something like the moon—not distant or far away, but a soft glow. light full of memory and promise and it’s beautiful. it’s the light of the celestial body that shines brightest in your sky, and it’s in every brush of his fingers over your skin, every strand of hair that tickles your nose where he creates a corner in heaven just for you.

your hands curl into the silky onyx that sweep over the nape of his neck—it’s the slightest bit damp, you notice; pearls of water from the snowflakes that have melted over his skin. with one deep inhale from where your face hides in the shallow space between his neck and shoulder, you smell your body wash on him through his musk, and your lips stretch into a lazy smile. 

it’s a feminine, delectably sugary scent, but hatori doesn’t care. 

he doesn’t think there’s anything in this world that drives such a primal part of him than the fact that you two smell like each other, that anyone can smell you on him—him on you, and that from it they will know you belong to each other.

“still feels like forever when you’re away from me,” it comes out as a quiet slur of words, one that hatori can barely hear from where you burrow as deep as you possibly can into his skin. he smiles wide at your sleepy thoughts, true thoughts; he loves when you get like this, clingy and needy and seemingly wanting him to melt into you and flow through your veins, as if feeling him skin-to-skin simply isn’t enough.

“forever, huh?”

“mhm,” you whisper, voice sweet and muffled and hinted with the most minuscule amount of coy innocence (he has no issue picking up on it) as you lean your chin on the sharp blade of his shoulder, hug his arm close to your chest in an attempt to soak up the silver-dewed warmth that radiates off him like a sponge until it saturates you fully. “i love you…”

“and i love you.” hatori lowers his face until it’s level with yours, easing you into submission with a graze of his mouth over your brow, your cheek, your jaw and finally your lips. his teasing ministrations don’t match his voice—breathless and full of yearning and hunger—almost like your assertions are enough to leave his lungs bereft of oxygen.

“but i love you more, i swear it!” with a petulant whine, you grapple at his pinky as if to make a promise on it, wrapping your fingers around the larger digit and shaking it around with as much strength as your sleep-laden self can muster.

“oh, you child.” 

he blushes deeply, heart beating in double time at the endearing, rather infantile way you seem to act with him when you’re all worn down from the labours of your afternoon and in need of him, his touch, his love.

then you’re wrapping your legs around a sinewy thigh, kneading your balled fists weakly into his traps, and then he’s grabbing your sea horse plushie to stuff in the steadily closing gap between your chests, lest he turn into one himself when he inevitably gets lost in the throes of intimacy that creep up his spine. “careful, now…”

“love you more than anything, hatori.” 

and it’s the way you say it—so sincerely, like you’re feeding him a piece of your soul, like you know just your heart alone will leave him unsatiated—that makes the moon no longer shine. it makes him crack at the surface and burst into fragments of rock, diamond flares scattering like comets across the sky for the world to wish upon.

(but there’s really only one wish he would ever truly grant.)

“i mean it, and it’s true…”

you reach up to press a palm in the divot between his pecs, where his heart lays shielded beneath the ribs that you’ve squeezed your way through and built a home—for him and for you. the sudden onslaught of affection has him flushing with a tender heat, bottom lip pulled in between teeth and lilted up into a shy smile, cheeks tingling with gold. 

“‘tori… i wanna kiss…”

“just one, okay? and then straight back to bed.”

“mhm, just one, promise i’ll be good—wanna be good for you.” and that’s all it takes for hatori to be certain that one kiss is bound to become one thousand—the desperation in your voice and the legs that wrap around his thigh tighter and oh.

you’re soaked. 

he can feel the sticky dampness through the thick flannel of your pyjama pants, from the crotch where you try to rock your hips over his leg, from the insides of your thighs; you’re dripping slick down your legs and your knee slides along his clothed cock and his head spins, resolve falters.

so, hatori does the only thing he can do when he can’t calm his racing heart, and he kisses you without any reservations. 

every kiss to your lips feels like it’s the first— where adoration streams from your fingers as you dip them into the hollows of his clavicle, where he feels a lump just beneath that works its way up to his mouth and stuffs it full of cotton; it’s staggering when you cling to him like this, loving him so tenderly, feeding your heart to him pure and raw with a silver spoon.

“wan’ more…” you’re pleading against his lips as soon as he removes them from your own, gaze drawn to the string of spit that tethers him to you.

“whatever happened to ‘being good’?” your lover’s voice is dripping mirth; it’s low and teasing and gentle and it makes your chest burn with so much love; you swear you’d do anything for him, everything to keep him tangled up with you like this until the end of forever.

“just a couple more kisses, please? else i’ll die.”

and you’re looking up at him with these eyes—wobbly tears dewing on your lashes and pupils blown to the heavens and teeming with equal measures of love and lust—you’re looking up at him like he’s hand-painted each star in the sky, like he’s superlunary.

you really think you’d die without him. 

and you’re just so fucking cute begging for him like this, with your heart tangled in your throat as silent words bubble and spill over your pouty lips. even after all this time of being together, hatori doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of being so wanted, so cared for, so purely and innocently loved by you.

“well, i wouldn’t be a very good doctor if i let someone die on me, now, would i?”

“hatoriii…”

“shh, let me put you to sleep, my love.”

you nod and hum in admission, curling your fingers tighter into the plushie that joins you to him, shying into the wide neck of your—his—sleep shirt you have on when you hear the lilt in his voice; it’s soft, airy, dreamy, and he moves to hover over you before slipping two warm fingers into your pyjamas. 

his touch is so gentle, treating you like fine porcelain—and his touch is so slow, so cautious, like he’s afraid that you’re nothing but some figment of the imagination he’s lost to his childhood, the sweetest of fairytale dreams, one that he doesn’t ever want to wake up from.

he tugs the flannel past your hips, past your knees and calves and ankles, dancing his lips over your sensitive skin as he kisses the crenulated imprint left by the waistband, right atop the delicate satin trim and dainty bow of your now exposed panties.

sweet and pink and patterned with ditsy daisies, three layers of frills adorning each of the legholes.

it’s his favourite set that you own.

(you very well know of this fact.)

“naughty, naughty… were you planning this?,” hatori coos at you—darling girl, beautiful you. he noses along the outline of your puffy folds, swallowing a quiet growl when your scent invades all his senses, when he feels the arousal dribbling down the insides of your thigh cool and dampen his cheeks. “i suppose you really can’t fall asleep without a little assistance, hm?”

it’s not as if he expected anything less. 

he leans in to tap to your clit through the fabric, falling lightheaded at how it’s already so swollen, at how your cunt is already drooling, at how you’re already whining and whimpering so greedily, at how it’s all for him. 

looks like someone’s really been missing me. he tucks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to slip them to the side, exposing yourself to him. i know, baby, i know. webs of slick shine against the moonlight coming from outside the windowpane, and hatori’s throat tingles as he dips his tongue into your hole—tasting you, savouring you—saliva spilling over his teeth that he lets dribble out on top of your cunt. shh, it’s okay, ‘m here, gonna take real good care of you, alright? he finally gives your clit a sloppy kiss hello.

“‘tori, ‘s embarrassing—o-oh, hahhh…” the words tangle in your throat and dissipate into the cold air of the bedroom as you try to register how he speaks to you, to your sex. lewdly and unabashedly and coaxing and through the hazy cloud of lust that fills your mind you wonder whether hatori’s been reading his cousin’s rather… erotic novels out of your gaze.

because wherever did he learn to talk like that?

“just want to make you feel good,” he hums, moves back up so that he’s level with your face again and can kiss you, make you taste yourself on him. with his free hand not cradling the crown of your head, hatori clumsily tugs his pyjamas and briefs down to his knees, letting his swollen cock slap up against his abdomen before he takes a hold of it and glides it along your slit. “fuck, sweetheart…”

hatori is of mint and tobacco when he turns his head down and breathes over your lips to look at where his tip oozes hot pre over your sensitive nub, at where your weeping hole furls desperately around nothing; it’s a silent plea to feel him inside you.

“hatori, please—wanna—i-insiiide,” you whine and protest, sink your head deeper into your pillow and dig faint bruises into his biceps with your fingertips.

“patience,” he chides, and then he chuckles, low and hearty and dripping ardour and disbelief, for how did he attain the unattainable?

your smile, your heart, your flesh, a love so tangible that just feeling you against him in this capacity is enough to make him forget the nightmare of a curse he’d been born into, even if only for a brief moment.

his palm smoothes over your hair as he grinds his cock hard into your folds and your back arches off the bed instinctively, soft little sounds spewing from your lips that only serve to heat up the coil curling around his heart. “love you, love you, i love…”

he pacifies your babbles with lingering kisses over your neck, your sternum, your lips—and i love you—it drips like molasses over your tongue and settles into your lungs; you’re left choking on the pleas that come tumbling up your throat, legs itching to wrap around his waist and pull him closer, but you can’t. instead, you whine and writhe under him, voice pitchy and petulant. 

“want you, need you, please, please, hatori?”

the sounds you make are the prettiest on the earth, hatori is sure of this much. it makes him shiver almost uncontrollably, stokes the embers in his belly until he’s swallowed up in your flame of blue. 

“you—h-hah, c’mere, you—“

hatori devours you, staining your lips with his saliva, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue until the clash of teeth-on-teeth rings louder than your broken moans. and his love is heavy, your spine throbs at the weight, but it’s nothing short of comfortable. 

warm, and familiar—the hand that tethers to yours is the same hand that massages balm into your muscles after the day comes to a close, the mouth that lays hushed praise over your brow is the same mouth that makes you smile and laugh and cry tears of joy and pleasure; it’s the same mouth you feed your heart to.

“hatori!” you’re wailing out his name when his cock catches onto your neglected clit, a searing throb working its way up to the apex of your thighs that makes you scrabble at his chest, ignoring the plushie in between that separates you from him. “pretty please…”

it’s easy to get him to fold like this, in the way you plead him with such broken desperation, wilted like a flower. it’s easy when you look up at him like he’s some deity, tears threatening to spill over your lashes and brows strained with need. he hasn’t prepped you nearly as much as you need to be able to accommodate his size, but he’s almost convinced your greed is enough to make up for the lack of it. and so, he runs the leaking tip of his cock up and down your folds once, twice, three times—each stroke punctuated with a kiss to the swell of your breasts.

“it’s alright, sweetheart, shh. i’ve got you,” he huffs out a gruff expletive when he begins to stretch you out with the flushed head of his cock, your walls hungry as they clamp down around him. 

you feel the pain of his girth splitting you open as a dull ache, one that wraps around your tummy and inches down to your core—it’s a slow spreading fire, one you don’t even realize has a hold of you until hatori bottoms out and grinds his pubic bone down on your clit to dissolve the pain. 

your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure, jaw falling slack and saliva building at the tip of your tongue—everything feels so good like this: with the warmth radiating from his cock through your fluttering walls and you’re just so full of him and fuck, it’s perfect.

“hah—it’s a tight fit, isn’t it?” hatori’s voice is a gentle croon, low and handsome and silky and reassuring; the love he slathers you in has you sucking him in further, further, as deep as you think you’ve ever felt him.

“hatori, oh, god,” you hiccup on a sweet sob, voice stuffy as you bite down on your plushie and hitch your legs higher up on the sides of his waist, careful not to lock your ankles around him in an embrace. “s’deep—hic! p-please, need you to move…”

 “it’s okay, i’m not going anywhere.” he kisses your forehead and pushes into you languidly, almost lazy with his movements as he draws back and forth, back and forth. his rhythm is steady and his cock only barely leaves the sponge of your cervix before he buries himself deep again, so deep you swear you can feel him in your womb. 

words catch on the tip of your tongue and they spill as sweet mumbles. it’s cute; you’re so cute, with the tiny nods of your head, brows knit as you attempt to hold off on cumming prematurely, toes curling into the dimples at the bottom of his back and whimpering into your drool-soaked stuffed animal. 

and then he angles his thrusts that way— the way that has the head of his cock gliding over your g-spot until he can hear the lewd squelch, squelch, squelch that comes with his ministrations. it makes you squeal, kick your feet and squeeze your eyes shut impossibly tight from how good it feels.

“right there, hm?” hatori tosses his head back to exhale, making a sound where a curt laugh meets a shaky moan, before leaning down to gently knock his nose over yours.

“’t-tori…” it’s a struggle to open your eyes under the weight of sticky tears that cling to your lashes, but you manage to do so anyway, pushing his fringe out of his face with weak fingers and tucking strands of charcoal behind his ears to see all of him. 

he’s so beautiful, your hatori. 

and you think he sounds just as beautiful with those low, drawn-out moans that simmer off into garbled growls; these are the sounds that make your stomach pulse with the need for more, a warning that just a little more is all you need to unravel. they have you sinking into the bed, caged by his arms and broad frame, your walls moulding to the shape of him, flushing the skin of your entire body with the intensity of the warmth that comes with being so in love. 

“a-ah!” your whole body wracks with trembles when his thrusts turn from shallow to deep again, his leaky head swivelling against your cervix and, fuck, you’re already so close—with his thumb drawing lazy hearts over your clit and his strokes long and slow and angled so perfectly against the one spot that has you coating the base of his cock with thick cream.

“hatori, hatori, w-wanna—i wan’—”

your arms move up to drape over his shoulders, but hatori is quick to pin them down next to your head, painfully reminding you of what you don’t have—can’t have. “i know, f-fuck, i know, baby… one day, okay?” 

his head falls into your neck and he moans; it’s loud and erotic and your innocent begging makes his heart feel all gooey—soft and pliable as he spills it into your palms, as if it’s yours to keep, yours to hold, yours to treasure forever—and it is, because there’s no one else, will be no one else that can make him feel the way he does quite like you do. god, he loves you.

“o-okay,” you hiccup and sob, from pleasure and pain and the multitudes of emotions in between, you listen to him despite your heart screaming at you, because, “i just, just wanna be good for you, wanna be your everything, ‘tori!” 

you are, you’re so good to me, you’re perfect, i love you— he wants to say; you are my everything and i’d give you everything, i love you more than anything in this wretched world—he wants to tell you but he can’t because your timid admission knocks the air out of his lungs, and hatori thinks you don’t realize just how sweet you’re being to him, for him. 

and so, he kisses you, slowly and in time with the gentle rock of his hips, feeding you unspoken words that you digest and make a home of in the pit of your soul. it flushes your entire being with light, it collects and swirls around in your head until you find yourself in a haze, drunk on the heat that pulses through you with every grind of his cock into your cunt.  

everything is so hot, so cold—the sweat that drips down the backs of your thighs, the breath of your panting against the fingers hatori traces your lips with—everything is just so hot and cold and everything feels so good; you’re knocked out of the present world and somewhere in a haven of white and purple where all you can see, all you can feel is him. 

what you wouldn’t give to hold him just a little closer and stay like this forever. 

the two digits rubbing over the swell of your bottom lip to collect the spit that’s been sitting there is what brings you back down to earth, and you all but lick meekly at the tips, take both index and middle fingers into your mouth and suck like a good girl.

“you want my fingers?” he groans at the tiny little nods you give him, fresh tears arising that push old ones down your cheeks. his heart pounds wildly against the cage of his ribs. “needy little thing…”

hatori isn’t fucking you fast, but he’s fucking you good—so, so good that it drains all the thought from your head until all you can think about is him—the slow, deep strokes where the head of his cock firmly pokes and prods at the spot that makes you gush, the digits pressing down on your tongue that you drool over, the mindless praise that streams from his lips; precious, precious girl—fuck, you feel so tight—so good to me, aren’t you? my good girl.

his words feel like liquid moonlight— softy glowing, and sweet, and sincere, and you can’t help but drink up every last drop. it fills your tummy with some sort of orb of light, one that has your toes curling into the sheets and fingers wrapping around his forearm tighter; you pull him closer, closer, until the plushie between you digs into your ribs and his nose sweeps over yours with so much delicate affection and all you see and feel is him.

“h-hatori… in my tummy, f-feel you there, feel you everywhere.” 

“feel me right here, huh?” he draws his hips back, pulling out of you almost fully before pushing back, slowly, agonizingly—but it feels amazing, so amazing—the swollen head of his cock splitting you, tight against the silkiness of your walls, flush against the sponge of your cervix as he presses himself as deep as he can into you, pushing a palm gently down on your navel. “you want it in your tummy, don’t you? can’t sleep unless you’re full of it, i know…” 

it all becomes so much, too much, the wet slaps of his skin against yours, his words, his cockhead spilling pre over your walls and rubbing into the spots that have you stumbling over your breath. you cum without warning, crying out into the column of his neck like the little sweetheart of his that you are, fingers clutching at the thick strands of hair that curl around his neck, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around him, like it loves him. 

and, oh, hatori feels it. the love, isolated and purified from the roots of your soul as you feed it to him on your tongue through mumbles and babbles of incoherent words. 

regardless, he knows what you mean.

the heat builds and builds and builds at his core, and then the coil fit to snap finally does. he shatters into silver specks as the rapid spasms of your cunt milk him dry—leave him starry-eyed and dizzy as he shoots rope after rope of thick cum into your womb, his cock twitching inside you from the aftershocks of a mind-blowing orgasm. 

“fuck, i love you—so much.” hatori huffs it out as a whine before he engulfs you in a bruising kiss, one that you’re almost positive is bound to leave a mark that will last until your next life, and the ones after that.

and it’s overwhelming, so overwhelming—the warmth of his seed oozing thick into you and the burn of the tingles that follow in the path of his touch—you think nothing else in this world and any other can make you feel quite the way he can. you’re certain of it.

“and you’re so pretty…” he continues to lay his praise on you, pressing his lips to your temple as he regains his bearings and looks down to your face.

spit-slicked lips and lazy blinks and slurred little iloveyous tumble from your mouth in half-whispers. even in your disarray you are nothing short of beautiful, other-worldly, hatori thinks. each slow flutter of your lashes is a sweep of the stars you dust into a pile of warmth at his feet; he curls his toes into them and kisses you and it flushes him with so much love, light, feelings he hadn't thought he'd ever be able to experience. he smoothes your hair down and moves to embrace your near sleeping frame—but then he remembers.

he’s reminded by the sweat-soaked plushie pressed against his chest and yours, reminded by how your arms lay free by the sides of your head, your ankles that don’t lock around his waist.

“look, ‘tori… ’s still snowing outside…” you yawn, avert his attention, nuzzle into his palm and point to the window, powdery snow finding rest on the sill, the moon’s light shining through and casting calm, steady falling shadows onto the two of you. “perhaps… we could… make...” you drift off before you have a chance to finish your question, and hatori smiles, endeared.

silly girl.

and then remembers. why he doesn’t resent the sohma curse, at least, not in the same capacity he once had. because he loves you like a child—freely, purely, without having to think.

and soon, soon, he’ll be able to hold you like a lover—he feels it in each passing day, his bond growing weaker, the rope snapping each individual thread at a time, thinning whenever he spares even the tiniest of glances at you and you call him by his name in that sweet, sweet voice of yours.

the owner of his glowing heart.

“yes, we should make a snowman tomorrow, dear.”

soon.

#𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓮𝓻 ⑅˚˖ ݁ ˓ ෆ #hatori sohma x reader #hatori sohma smut #fruits basket smut #fruba x reader #furuba x reader #fruba smut #hatori sohma fics #hatori sohma imagines #hatori sohma x you #hatori sohma x y/n #dr hatori sohma protector of my heart keeper of my soul > O < ! ! i lov him sooo much goodnight

[bitethedevil]

The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav)

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)

Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems. (This is only the first chapter, it’s going to be a longer thing)

(AN: This isn’t super edited and it’s the first fic that I’ve ever posted, so bear with me. English isn’t my first language either, so there might be some odd words or weird grammar some places. I am an English major though, so hopefully it shouldn’t be too bad. This fic has just been gnawing on my mind since I started it yesterday. There will be more chapters.)

Tav took a deep breath to calm her nerves and adjusted her dress before stepping into the portal. She arrived in the foyer of the House of Hope in a swirl of embers and smoke. A tiefling servant greeted her politely when she appeared. Tav was ushered into the area where Raphael had brought them in the beginning of their adventure all that time ago. It looked the same, except the table in the center of the room had been switched out with a larger one.

She looked around the room in search of a familiar face. She cursed her companions internally when she noticed that she was the only one of them who had accepted Raphael’s invitation. She had thought that at least Astarion would have jumped at the chance to attend such a fancy event.

However, she was not the only person there. There were at least fifteen other people present who she had no idea who was. None of them devils. At least not as far as Tav could tell. Most likely, they were also favored clients of Raphael.

All the people around her were dressed in opulent clothing and jewelry. Tav felt grateful that she had decided on buying new clothes for the occasion, despite her almost attending in an old dress she had found in the back of her closet.

A drink was placed in her hand by one of the servants. She took a long sip to calm her nerves. She looked around for the one familiar face that she knew for certain would be attending, but the devil she knew was nowhere to be seen. Most likely he was somewhere waiting for the perfect moment for his dramatic entrance. Tav rolled her eyes at the thought and took yet another sip of her drink.

She suddenly noticed that a few of the other guests started looking in her direction. She jumped when she felt a hand being gently placed on her back.

“My, what have we here?” a familiar voice purred.

Raphael came up beside her. He was wearing his usual smug smile and even fancier clothes than she was used to seeing him in.

“I’m glad you came,” he said with a slight bow. “It shows that you have better manners than your dear friends, it seems.”

“So it seems…” Tav said, still feeling slightly bitter about the fact that they did had not shown up. “I apologize on their behalf. I’m sure they had good reasons.”

“I’m sure…” Raphael said with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “But no matter. You are here. The guest of honor whose name went on the contract that ensured me the crown. Without you, there would be no celebration tonight.”

“Mm…right…” Tav said quietly while absentmindedly swirling the contents of the glass she was holding.

There it was again. That nauseous feeling of guilt and anxiety that she had also felt when she had handed the Crown of Karsus to him. It had been her name on the contract. It had been her who handed him an artifact that potentially could destroy worlds and gods know what else.

It had been the whole reason that she could not decline his invitation as her friends had. Most of her companions had wanted to turn a blind eye to the idiotic actions of their leader and forget about it. Tav needed to see. Her attendance was a desperate attempt to gain some semblance of control over the situation.

“And if I may be so bold…” Raphael said in a hushed voice, shaking her from her train of thought. “What a precious sight. To see you in proper clothes instead of that ragged armor you wore when we first met. You look wonderful, my dear.”

Tav blinked as she wrestled herself away from the anxious thoughts in her head to return to reality. She dumbly looked down at her dress and then back at Raphael.

“Oh, thank you,” she said and forced a polite smile. “You look nice as well.”

Raphael gave her a smile and briefly squeezed her shoulder before walking to the center of the room to properly welcome his guests and invite them to sit down.

The dinner itself was as one could expect when dining in the House of Hope. There was every kind of food that you could possibly imagine. There were also expensive wines from all corners of the realms. The servants constantly ran back and forth to make sure that no one lacked anything.

To Tav’s great relief, she had been seated beside a talkative stranger, so she did not have to sit through the dinner in silence. The stranger was a young half-elf, who introduced himself as Rolim. Tav could gather that he was a merchant of some sort. He was quite handsome with his sharp elvish features. He had blonde hair, brown eyes, and a bright smile when he talked.

Tav barely got a word in while he was talking, but she found that she did not mind. He talked excitedly about the success of his business and the new mansion he had recently acquired. No doubt with the help of a certain devil, Tav suspected.

The few times Tav turned her attention away from the young man, she noticed Raphael unashamedly studying her from the other end of the table. He did not eat, but simply drank wine while he looked as if he was barely listening to the two people on either side of him who were eagerly speaking to him.

“…Don’t you agree?” Rolim asked her and pulled her attention away from Raphael’s gaze.

“Hm?” she said, having no idea what he was asking her.

“That Baldur’s Gate might be a promising place to expand my business to. That is where you said you were from, yes?” Rolim said with a smile.

“Oh yes, it is,” Tav said with a polite smile. “Certainly. Although I have to admit that I don’t know a whole lot about how it is to run a business in the Gate.”

“I think it could be promising,” Rolim continued cheerfully. “Perhaps I could visit sometime, and you could show me around the city?”

Oh. He was flirting with her, Tav realized.

“Hm, yes,” she said with a forced smile. “Perhaps…May I ask you something, Rolim?”

“Of course!” he said.

Tav leaned a bit closer to him and lowered her voice so that no one else would eavesdrop.

“I hope it’s not rude to ask, but why is it that you were invited here exactly?” she asked.

“Oh,” he spoke in an almost exaggerated hushed voice to match Tav’s. “I can’t really tell you the specifics, but I am a client of Raph’s.”

Tav suppressed a giggle. ‘Raph’? No doubt Raphael hated that.

“Right,” she said. “I thought as much. Just curious.”

Their talk was interrupted by a clinging on glass. Raphael got up from his chair to hold a speech. He started out by thanking those who had attended. Then it turned into a predictably dramatic and theatrical speech about his desire for the crown and his eventual success. He then, surprisingly, also credited the person who had brought him the crown. He spoke warmly of Tav exclusively, completely disregarding her fellow adventurers, much to her discomfort since everyone was staring at her while he did. She forced a smile until it was over.  

She was beyond relieved when it was finally over, and the other guests had stopped staring at her like she was a monkey in a zoo.

“It was you?” Rolim asked once the moment was over. “You defeated the elderbrain? Why didn’t you say? You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate!”

“It wasn’t just me,” she said a bit too harshly. It annoyed her that her companions had not been credited in Raphael’s speech. “It was me and a whole lot of other people that I could not have done it without.”

“Still, you did it!” Rolim said excitedly. “I’ve heard the bards sing of it even in my corner of Faerûn.”

To Tav’s luck, people were beginning to leave the table. She saw her opportunity to escape the conversation and did not hesitate to take it.

“I’m going to get some air,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Alright, but when you get back, I want to hear all about it!” Rolim called after her.

She walked through the house, desperate to get away from all the noise and curious looks for a moment. She found a balcony. She leaned up against the railing and closed her eyes for a moment while taking deep breaths.

All of it was just too much. She hated it. She shouldn’t have gone. She wasn’t a hero. A hero would not have handed the crown to a bloody devil. Baldur’s Gate might have been saved, but who could say what destruction the future might have in store with such powers in Raphael’s hands?

There was a reason why she had isolated herself after the defeat of the elderbrain. She never attended the events that she had been invited to by the city, because she could not look any of the people there in the eyes while they celebrated her. Her companions. Her friends. They were the real heroes. They had all suffered and overcome so much, even before the whole tadpole business. She might have wasted all of it by making one stupid decision.

She took another deep, shaky breath to calm her nerves and stop the tears that were threatening to fall. The view of the hellscape of Avernus did nothing to calm her. It was disorientating. It was night, but still it looked like it was day over the jagged and desolate red landscape.

“Enjoying the view?”

She jumped and turned around to find Raphael sitting down on one of the chairs behind her.

“You have got to stop scaring the shit out of me,” she said. “It’s getting old, Raphael.”

Raphael chuckled.

“Language,” he chided. “It’s hardly my fault that you are such a nervous little thing.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure your guests miss you,” she said. “I will be back in a moment. I just needed some air. I’m not going to snoop around in your house or anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t dare,” Raphael said smoothly while studying her with a tilted head. “My guests will be fine. No doubt they can fill each other’s ears with mindless chatter instead of mine. Sit.”

He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the small table beside him.

“It’s fine, really,” she said. “I just needed a moment.”

“Sit,” he ordered again. “Something is clearly on your mind, dear.”

She could hear from his tone that he would not let it go, so she sat down.

Raphael snapped his fingers and a hookah appeared on the table. Tav raised an eyebrow and looked from the hookah to Raphael. They sat in silence for a moment as Raphael prepared it. Despite her restless mind, she could not help being slightly amused at the odd gesture.  

Raphael placed the mouthpiece at the end of the hose between his lips, took a long drag and exhaled the smoke smoothly. Then he offered it to Tav.

“For those pesky nerves of yours.”

“Oh,” Tav said and waved her hand dismissively at the gesture. “I’ve never smoked before.”

“There’s a first for everything, no?” he said. “Indulging once won’t kill you.”

Tav sighed slightly and took the hose of the hookah from his hand. She placed the mouthpiece between her lips and cautiously inhaled the smoke. She started coughing hard as she exhaled.

“Or perhaps it will,” Raphael chuckled as he took it back from her to take another drag.

As her coughing fit subsided, she felt light-headed. However, just as Raphael said, it did also make her feel somewhat more relaxed.

“Now,” Raphael said. “Tell me what it is that troubles you.”

“It’s nothing,” Tav said and shook her head.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said calmly. “I can see it in your eyes. I have my suspicions as to what could be bothering you, of course. Tell me and I promise you, I will not take offense.”

She looked at him. She did not know if was the effect of the wine, the hookah or the almost kind tone of Raphael’s voice that made her want to tell him everything. She wanted to tell him all those things that she had kept to herself and that had eaten away at her insides for months after the defeat of the elderbrain.

“I feel like a failure,” she said, her voice almost breaking at the confession. “We went through so much. Saved so many people back then. And for what? For me to hand over the crown to you. That was my decision…”

There was not as much as a trace of anger on Raphael’s face as she explained. He even looked somewhat sympathetic. He listened attentively while occasionally taking drags from the hookah.

“I saw it in their eyes, you know? I still do,” she said looking out over the balcony with an empty stare. “They didn’t say anything about it, but I know they were disappointed with my decision. I don’t blame them.”

“You are entirely too hard on yourself, mouse,” Raphael said. “You did what you had to do, as a good leader should. They are in no position to judge you.”

“No, they should. They should judge me,” she countered. “The defeat of the elderbrain was a product of their hard work as well. I robbed them of having a say in the final decision. I would never have gotten that far if it had not been for them, and I still spat in their face, and stupidly chose an option that might one day destroy all we fought to save.”

“Do not speak so low of yourself,” Raphael said in an almost angry tone. “It was your right to make that decision. You say that you would not have gotten that far without them, but that is where you are wrong. They would never have gotten that far without you. You made the difficult choices. You took on responsibility when no one else stepped forward.”

“But– “

“No, Tav,” Raphael interrupted.  “I will not stand listening to you speak ill of yourself in such a manner, when you only did what none of your companions had the sense of responsibility to do. They closed their eyes and handed the reins to you when things became unsavory, did they not? Is that not why none of them are present tonight?”

Tav hated what he was saying, but he did have a point. They had once again looked away and left the mess to her. She would also have been lying if she said that it had not been something that had irked her even back then. How they would leave the decisions to her, but still complain about it when they disagreed. She did offer them plenty of opportunities to take her place, but none of them ever stepped forward.

Raphael knew that he had hit a nerve and softened his tone.

“They don’t deserve you,” he said. “I meant what I said in the speech, when I said that you were the one to defeat the elderbrain. Without you, they would have gotten themselves killed long before they could even reach Baldur’s Gate.”

Raphael took one last drag and got up from his seat. He stood in front of her.

“As for my plans with the crown…” he said and extended a hand to her. “Come. I want to show you something.”

She took it and got up from her seat as well.

“You really ought to get back to your guests, Raphael,” she said as she held the crook of his arm as he brought her through the house.

“And neglect my very favorite guest? Nonsense,” he said with a charming smile.

He brought her to his archive. Artifacts were beautifully displayed on pedestals. Raphael brought her to the pedestal in the middle of the archive. She squinted at the paper displayed on the pedestal.

“Is that...?”

“Your contract, yes,” he said. “It still is one of my most precious possessions.”

She looked at her own signature at the bottom of the document. Then she read the sign beside it: ‘A most-cherished client.’  

It was sweet, in a way, that he would display it in such a manner, Tav thought for a brief moment. Then she immediately shook the thought away. This was Raphael, after all. She immediately became aware that she was still holding his arm even though they had stopped. She instinctively let go of it.

“Why are you showing me this?” she asked with curiosity.

“To remind you of our deal, of course,” he said. “You never did read it, did you?”

“It’s in Infernal,” she said with a shrug.

“Perceptive as ever,” Raphael chuckled. “Yes, it is. Though, had you asked, I would gladly have translated it…Would you like me to read it to you?”

She hesitated for a moment. Perhaps, it was better to not know. There was nothing that she could do about it now, after all. Still…she was curious.

“Please,” she said and gestured to it.

Raphael smiled at her before he started reading the first clause in Infernal. It shook her slightly to hear him speak in another language. Infernal being such a harsh and guttural language. Raphael spoke it with ease. Tav found it oddly attractive, which was no doubt an intentional effect that Raphael was well-aware of.

He went through each clause, first in Infernal and then in the common tongue. Tav found herself, not for the first time, lost in the way he spoke and that velvety voice of his. Especially because he made a show of looking at her while he did it. Impressively, he could recite most of the contract by memory.

When he was done, Tav surprisingly found herself more reassured than worried. It did contain all the things that they had agreed on. Raphael would not use the crown to dominate mortals and the crown would stay in the Hells.

“So, as you can see,” he said and gestured to the contract. “There is nothing to worry your pretty head over.”

She glanced at the contract again. She did feel less worried, but she also still felt like there could be something that she was missing.  

“I have never lied to you, Tav,” Raphael said as if he had just read her thoughts. “And I have always dealt fairly with you, have I not?”

“That’s debatable,” Tav said and looked at him. “We did exchange an insanely powerful artifact for a bloody hammer.”

Raphael laughed.

“An insanely powerful artifact that none of you would ever be able to harness the power of, in exchange for a ‘bloody hammer’ that your very survival depended on.”

“Hm,” Tav huffed stubbornly.

“Hm,” Raphael teased and mimicked her huff with an amused smile. “Come. Let us get back to those guests of mine that you seem to be so worried about.”

Raphael gently put his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the archive. His little touches and his gentleness with her did not go unnoticed by Tav, but she found that she did not mind. Even though she knew better. She should be suspicious. She knew she should, but it was hard when the man was so damn charming about it.

#writing #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[pap3rcherry]

Hiii!! Came to your blog and your writing is absolutely amazing!! :D Could I request some fluff with Mister Demi x Short!Insecure!Reader? (Gender Neutral for everyone to enjoy!) The reader is his teacher assistant who is learning to be a music teacher and is very insecure about their appearance and ability to help Demi.

✮⋆˙ MOCKING BIRD ୨୧

Mister Demi x Insecure and short reader

a/n: Thank you dear! i did the best i could in this fic for you but it got a bit short, im so sorry </3 and i also say sorry for the long wait, i had a hard day and needed some time to recover, but im back now!

TW: nothing ig, paranoia? if its even really paranoia and suggestive (straight up reproduction mentions)

Type: headcanons, fluff, romantic.

୨୧ Demi was a very anxious person, you knew that because it was almost written all over his face, but despite that, he was still a proficient teacher, always worried about his work, not to mention he was statuesque too, everything you werent.

୨୧ Sometimes you question if you really deserve to be hus assistant, sure you were still learning but u should be at least decently skilled at the job by now... you really were nothing compared to him huh?

୨୧ Demi wouldnt really see your strange behavior at first, i mean, he would but, wouldnt associate to anything bad so then he continues with his work and teaching you with some things here and there to help you to improve your classes.

୨୧ The man would try anything to make you feel better, compliments right and left whenever you do something right, even if its little, he would still compliment you, the last thing he wants is you comparing youself to others or him, especially him:(

୨୧ Honestly, i dont think Demi would notice anything strange about you if you didnt really say anything to him, so, when you say what is going on your mind to him, Demi was flabbergasted, he had to take some time to process what you said.

୨୧ But since Demi is a bit anxious himself, he may or may not have some negative thoughts about himself from time to time, so i think he would get the whole degrading yourself part, but wont really get the part where you compare yourself to him of all people. (two mentally ill persons in love)

୨୧ About your appearance? he would gladly reassure you are STUNNING in his eyes, that being with kisses or words of assurance, sometimes between more "intimate" times he would praise you like, ALOT.

୨୧ This man is going to make you feel LOOVED because he truly thinks you are amazing and sooo pretty, so dont worry, he will try his best to make you feel better<3

୨୧ Of course, Demi does in his cute little way, like singing a song for you or writting a silly little poem for you, please appreciate his efforts<3

୨୧ “I love you to the moon and back my love”

#୨୧ cherry works #mister demi #fundamental paper education x reader #fpe x reader #gender neutral reader #fpe Mister Demi #fluff #fpe fanfiction

[otomiyaa]

Lyney's Trick

A/N: Fic #3 for the 2-part fics! No tickling yet in this part, so the poll results will really have a lot of influence on how the fic will continue🤭

Summary: Lyney is at a birthday party with many of Aether's friends. Because Lynette and Freminet are a little awkward and stiff, he asks them to help him play a trick on someone. It will definitely guarantee some joy and laughter for his siblings, the person tricked, and everyone else.

It was a fun gathering. Sure it was. They were inside the marvelous Serenitea Pot Realm to celebrate the Traveler's birthday party, and it was rather impressive. Quite many people from all over Teyvat showed up to join the celebration.

The lively Gaming just came off the stage after giving a performance which was soon followed by Furina who was now in the middle of giving a fabulous show of her own. Lyney already had his turn and gave a magic show earlier as well.

"Enjoying yourselves?" he asked Lynette and Freminet. That was the only problem with this gathering. He noticed his siblings were a little shy to socialize with others.

From Fontaine almost all of Aether's friends were here, which was quite surprising. Even Neuvillette, and Wriothesley - but then again, even the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide wouldn't miss a chance to enter the Traveler's infamous Teapot realm and enjoy a cup of the finest tea.

From other nations there were people like the very loud Harbinger Childe, Venti the Bard from Mondstadt, Arataki Itto from Inazuma, Hu Tao from Liyue, just all those personalities combined made it quite lively, loud, chaotic and energetic, so he understood why Freminet and Lynette were a little overwhelmed by it all.

"Maybe we can join them?" Lyney suggested, pointing at the Sumeru table where a few people were playing cards, but Lynette shook her head.

"I'm fine. I drink tea," she said stiffly. Wriothesley, at the same quiet tea-table, nodded proudly.

"It's good tea," he said. Neuvillette merely nodded. Lyney shrugged. He would feel bad to leave them alone so awkwardly, even though he felt a little more tempted to engage with the others, to learn more about their nations, their friendship with Aether, maybe to show them more of his magic tricks and- oh.

A trick. Maybe he could get Freminet and Lynette to open up if they helped him with a trick! Not just a trick. The secret magic trick.

"Guys, do you remember my secret magic trick?" he asked Lynette and Freminet. Freminet shook his head.

"What secret trick?" Lynette asked.

"The one that makes people laugh. Even you, it made you laugh," Lyney said, and he winked. Lynette blushed.

"Oh. That one." She clearly remembered, and Freminet did too since he made a little squeak noise.

"You wouldn't," he said.

"You've got my attention. I am curious now, right Neuvillette?" Wriothesley said. Neuvillette nodded again.

Lyney hummed and gazed around the crowded space. "Well, the secret trick needs a person to try it on. It's a magical trick to make someone laugh, so..." he explained, while he considered the perfect victim. Not anyone from the Fontaine group, the chance was they had seen the trick, heard of it, or witnessed him playing it on people in Fontaine. It was quite popular and effective after all.

So...

His eyes fell on Gaming who was still gathering compliments after his show. He seemed like an easy target, a sweet bubbly and curious person who would definitely want to try it out.

Lyney then stared at Childe, the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Very tempting, but being a member of the Fatui as well, he would meet him a little more than others perhaps, and besides, Childe was clever. This scheme could backfire, but at the same time, if he would succeed... Lyney would feel more triumphant than ever.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Lyney almost fell over when a deafening yell could be heard from the Oni, Arataki Itto, who had just lost an Onikabuto battle against the Yashiro Commissioner, Kamisato Ayato. Itto looked like someone who would enjoy a trick like that, and he would most definitely fall for it.

While the Yashiro Commissioner and his sister looked quite elegant in a way that didn't really invite Lyney to trick them, at the same table sat a kind looking guy. Lyney knew he was called Thoma. He looked like he would accept and fall for it... perhaps?

The Mondstadt people were all too busy admiring Furina on stage, and the Sumeru group seemed very invested in their card game, however... Lyney noted the blond guy who seemed a little distracted.

"Kaveh? It's your turn," the fox guy said to him. Kaveh. Hm... Maybe him, but it was a question whether he would accept.

Lastly, Lyney glanced at Aether who was also staring at Furina's show at this moment. He had cute sparkles in his eyes. He was the perfect victim, but honestly, he was also the most dangerous. Lyney would definitely get his ass handed right back to him afterwards, but it could be worth it.

"Well? Who will it be?" Lynette asked, and Lyney smiled when he noticed she actually looked forward to this. Freminet seemed eager too.

With so many people together he was sure they would attract some attention soon, so he had only one chance to perform the prank- er, trick successfully.

#2partfics #genshin impact #lyney #tickling #tickle fic #otomiya!writes #lee!gaming #ler!lyney #ler!freminet #ler!lynette

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ J.HARLOW ࣪ ˖ WHEN YOU COME HOME TO ME.

pairing: reader x jack harlow

what to know | fluffy! domestic!au, jack being the cutest lover ever, life with jack be like <3, established-relationship!au, this is all fiction! — lowercase is intended.

☆ on rotation: lovesick by laufey, 20191009 i like her by mac damarco, in a good way by faye webster, love of my life by harry styles.

star left a message! my first jack fic! please let me know what you thought about 🩶 i hope you enjoy :)

“when do you think mama's gonna be home, hm?” jack quietly inquires to alpine. gently patting her back while she lays comfortably on his lap. alpine shifts looking up at jack with wide eyes, her ears fluttering at the sound of your title around the house. jack chuckles scratching behind her ears, wondering how a cat can be so adorable.

recently his schedule has been clearing up which meant shorter days in the studio, less days away from home and more time for you. he missed you during his hectic work days especially since your schedules clashed so much, you barely got to see each other despite living in the same house. he fell so easily into a routine with you now that he’s home more and today was one of those days. a few hours ago jack had came back from studio, took a small nap, made a small dinner (very small since his cooking skills are very limited) for the two of you, took alpine on a walk around the neighborhood in a cat sling (which you think he hates wearing but he actually loves it)and finally got ready for bed. during that time he got a message from you telling him you’d be working late due to some complications in some documents that make jack’s head hurt to even think about. it’s now around midnight and you still haven’t gotten home, there wasn’t any other updates from you after you sent around seven.

worry bubbles in jack’s chest as time goes by, it wasn’t out of the ordinary that you came home late especially recently since you’ve been busy with projects at work. he didn’t want to sound clingy but he missed you when you weren’t home with him, only alpine and the many house plants you’ve names to keep him company. he realized how this how you must've felt when he was gone. jack has also gotten so used to sleeping in bed with you that he can’t sleep without you. ever since you started dating you always slept together which made it difficult when he was on tour and the only remedy for that was sleeping on face time with a build-a-bear teddy that smelled like you; call him crazy but it helped but is a secret kept from everyone except you. hence why he’s currently staying up so late, it doesn’t matter how long he has to wait or how tired he feels after work. he wants to be there when you get home. make sure you come home safe and sound. this became a sort of routine between the two of you, though you always tell jack there’s no need for him to stay up, knowing how early he gets up to get the most out of his day— jack is as stubborn as a bull, it didn’t matter what time he wakes up the next day, he just wants to be with you. you don’t know the exact reason as to why he waits for you to come home. all you know is that he wants to make sure you come home safe and that keeps you content. jack is also shy to tell you the exact reason so to keep himself from embarrassment he’ll be keeping the real reason to himself.

jack sits in the lounge, his laptop atop his lap looking over emails and and beat samples when he had the chance while his other mindlessly pets alpine, being sure not to do to much because jack cannot handle another one of her bites or scratched. this was one of jack’s favorite ways to pass time while waiting for you, sometimes he’d be reading a book or watching show. after a while jack gets bored of his scrolling and moves to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, alpine following behind him. her meow’s resonating throughout the home. as he pours hot water into his mug he hears the sound of the door rattling. you’re home. hurriedly, jack dips his tea bag into the mug before plucking alpine in his arms before she can get to the door before him– meaning she gets to see you first, which he was not going to let happen. with alpine safe in his arms, jack jogs his way to the main entrance, rocking on his toes like a little child. he’s excited you’re home but when is he not?

a beeping noise emits from the door and soon reveals you in your full glory, beautiful as ever. alpine meows at your arrival as a wide smile grows on jacks face “welcome home.” he welcomes in a gentle tone. the sound of his voice makes you heart warm, a voice you’ve been yearning to hear this whole day.

“stayed up again?” you implore, pulling off your shoes before walking into the threshold. approaching your lover, awaiting your warmth.

“actually i was catching up on emails n stuff, ended up losing track of time.” he reasons, excuse the same as the last. watching as you coo at alpine before taking her in your arms, purring as she get’s comfortable in your arms. jack’s heart feels full at the sight. you nod absentmindedly at his reason, walking into the kitchen. jack hasn’t given his welcome home kiss yet, huffing with a pout— unsatisfied, he follows you like alpine did him earlier.

“did you not miss me?” he whines wrapping his arms around your waist, halting your movement. you giggle at his clingy behavior melting as he presses a kiss to your lips. a content sighs leaves him— finally feeling his lips against yours after a long day. alpine meows again, ever so talkative. jack pulls away from you, leaning his cheek against the crown of your head. joking about alpine always ruining the mood. basking in the comforting silence and alpines purrs, forgeting about the tea sitting on the counter— gradually getting cold.

“you don’t always have to wait up for me, you know.” looking up at him, taking in his features- counting over the freckles that adorn his face. a face you’d never tire of. eyes full of love and appriciation jack almost melts at the sight of you looking at you, almost falling in love with you over again. a loving smile adorns his face, a hand brushing hair out of your face. he replies,

“i’d always wait for you my love, you know that.”

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