#I hope you're having a wonderful day too!

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 15 (18+)

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i apologize for the delay. my work schedule goes back to normal next month so i'll have my head back on straight then. thank you for your patience! i hope you enjoy the chapter :)

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Chan.

[ read chapter fourteen here ]

Chapter Fifteen: Of Showers and Cabins

Tuesday, November 14th

You’re in the living room with Han, Felix, Hyunjin, Jeongin, Changbin and Charlotte. Han gathered you all to practice an upcoming presentation for his public speaking class. As you watch him discuss his chosen topic of Greek Mythology (accompanied by a PowerPoint on the TV behind him), you wonder when his nerves are going to set in, when he’s going to slip up or stumble over his words—he never does. None of the members interject, taunt or tease him.

Han is confident in front of them. Perhaps because of them. He has no problem being the center of attention in the house, around his friends. On his own in front of strangers must be another thing entirely, apparently.  

After he’s finished, the boys offer suggestions on things he could make clearer or that are not necessary to mention. You’ve seen how they operate together—typically silly beyond belief but at the end of the day, they’re always there for each other. Still, it surprises you how gentle they are with him, knowing he’s facing something that makes him uncomfortable.

Han thanks everyone for their time before sitting on the sectional between Changbin and Felix, and with his very next breath says how much he does not want to do this.

“If you bomb it, just remember you’ll probably never see those people again after you graduate,” Changbin tries to console him.

“Maybe not,” Han replies. “But they will have an embarrassing memory of me etched into their brain forever, if I do.”

“We could come sit in the back of the class,” Hyunjin offers. “For moral support.”

Hyunjin is laying down on the couch, legs resting on Changbin’s thighs and his head on your lap as you play with his hair. Jeongin and Charlotte are on the other side of you, cuddled together and in their own little world now.

“Please don’t do that.” Han shakes his head.

“Just relax…don’t overthink it,” Felix tells him, shrugging.

“Easy for you to say,” Han rolls his eyes. “If I, too, had a voice made for smutty audiobooks, I’d probably be giving speeches every day for fun.”

Changbin laughs, “He has a point, ‘Lix. Give us a ‘that’s my good girl’.”

Felix smiles devilishly, eyebrows raised as he leans across Han and motions with his finger for Changbin to come closer. In the deepest, most sultry tone you’ve ever heard from him he says, “That’s my fucking good girl.”

Changbin wiggles his body, as if shivers are running through him and Felix lets out a boisterous laugh.

“Just get through it,” Felix leans back and returns his attention to Han, “and next week we’ll have a nice break at the cabin.”

“Cabin?” You ask.

“Oh, shit,” Hyunjin says, looking up at you and offers a weak smile. “I forgot to tell you.”

You smack him on the head, and he flinches.

“They just decided on it a few days ago,” he attempts to defend himself.

“For Thanksgiving weekend,” Felix informs you. “It’s maybe about an hour and a half away from here. But if you’re going home to visit family that’s fine, of course.”

You hadn’t gone home for Thanksgiving since freshman year. It’s too short of a time span, with most of it spent in the airport. And God forbid there are delays.

“No, I hadn’t planned to,” you tell him.

“Good. ‘Cause I make an amazing peach cobbler,” he does the chef’s kiss motion. “You wouldn’t wanna miss it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You look down at Hyunjin, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“I’m sorry?” He attempts puppy dog eyes.

“Oh, you will be. Sorry and broke.” You retort.

Thursday, November 16th

You’ve returned home from your morning class and it’s no surprise Hyunjin is still sleeping. You’re in the girls’ room doing homework and waiting for him to wake up. Rhiannon is in the den with you, click-clacking away on her keyboard. The others are either in class or out of the house.

It’s nearly 1:00pm when you receive a text from Hyunjin.

Are you not back yet?

It makes you smile—picturing him waking up in bed alone, knowing you should be back from school by now and expecting you to be there, snuggling up with him.  

I’m in the den, doing homework.

You sleep too much.

No such thing. I’m gonna hop in the shower…lunch when I’m out?

Of course. I got you.

And yes, you do. You have him. You will whip him up a lunch of his choosing, after business is handled. Now that half the members are out of the competition, you don’t think he’ll object as heavily to losing. You’ve been waiting for this day—you know his Thursday routine. He sleeps in, showers, eats, then goes to class. Now is the perfect time to take action.

“Rhi,” you call out to her, spinning around in your chairs.

“Hmm?” Is her reply, but she doesn’t take her gaze away from her computer screen.

“I’m going up now.”

She finally turns around to look at you, “You got this.” She gives you a thumbs up and a wink.

You exit the den and head upstairs. You’re not sure if this is allowed, but there was never anything said about areas of the house specifically being off limits to the girls. You’d never seen or caught any of the members in the girl’s bathroom with their assignees, though.

When you make it to the second floor, you hear music playing at the end of the hall. You tiptoe towards the bathroom and can hear the shower water running, too. You take a deep breath as you turn the doorknob, hoping that your calculations of who’s home and who’s away is correct. Since the boys also share a bathroom, you have to pray that Hyunjin is alone.

You tentatively step inside, peeking your head in first to make sure no one else is there. The coast is clear and Hyunjin is already in the shower, thankfully. Their bathroom is set up exactly like the girls—multiple sinks, showers, and separate rooms for the toilets. The glass surrounding the shower is fogged up, keeping your entrance a secret. You quietly close and lock the door behind you.

Hyunjin is obliviously singing along to the Mac Miller song blaring from the speaker. You quickly slip out of your clothes and set them in a pile on the sink before making your way to the shower door.

You grip the handle and gently pull the door open. Hyunjin is standing directly under the showerhead with his back towards you. His head is tilted back, eyes shut as the water pours over him. You have a fraction of a second to enjoy the sight because as soon as the cold air hits him he whips around, screams and holds his hands up in defense.

You immediately burst into laughter.

“Y/N,” he says, exhaling lightly when realization sets in that it’s you.

You enter the shower and close the door behind you, sealing the steam and warmth back in. He’s leaning against the wall, hand now over his chest and just completely…exposed. You don’t let the opportunity to run your eyes over his body pass.   

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” you say with a small shrug and smile.

He clicks his tongue, “Liar.”

He pushes away from the wall, standing under the water again. You step around him, positioning yourself between him and the shower wall.

“This is it, huh?” He asks, seeing the look in your eyes.

You nod in response and start to lower yourself to your knees.

“Uh-uh,” he shakes his head and grabs your waist to stop you.

He pulls you up so you’re standing and covers your mouth with his. His tongue glides over your lips and your eyes flutter shut as you relax and let him take the lead. You don’t have to worry about what comes next with him. You know he’s about to make you feel like you never existed until you met him.

“You first,” he says, breaking the kiss. 

He backs you up against the wall and gets down on his knees. You step your legs further apart to allow him better access. He slides one hand up your stomach to cup your breast, pinching your nipple and watching with a smile as you push your hips forward in an attempt to get his mouth right where you want it.

He doesn’t make you wait. He latches on to your pussy with his mouth and your hands immediately go to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling at the roots. You lean your head back against the wall and let out a sigh, feeling his tongue slide back and forth, up and down between your folds.

You hadn’t exactly been fucking your ex every single day, however since moving into the SKZ house you’d grown accustomed to some kind of regular sexual activity. You hadn’t gone more than seven days without it since being here. It’s been sixteen, and it felt like an eternity.

You turn your gaze down to Hyunjin. He’s focused on the task at hand as the water cascades down his back. With your hands still in his hair, you press him against you harder, rocking your hips against his face. He chuckles at this. His other hand slips between your legs to find your opening and pushes two fingers inside of you.

“You missed me, jagiya?” He murmurs, looking up at you with those smiling brown eyes.

“Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

“Good,” he places a kiss on your clit then returns his focus to fucking you with his fingers and playing with your breasts, your nipples.

One, maybe two, songs play out on the speaker as he continues to pleasure you. Alternating from using his fingers to his mouth, never seeming to grow tired of the work he’s putting in. You want to let him finish; you want to come standing over him like this. But you need him to fuck you.

Sure, he’s technically out of the game now due to his actions. You’ve got to see this through, though, to make sure he’s out-out. 

You release the hairs on his head and grab his wrist to stop him. You motion for him to stand, and he does, popping his fingers in his mouth to lick your juices off. He kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You push him away and turn around, pressing your chest against the wall and turning your head to the side. You arch your back, pushing your ass against him. He reaches up to move the shower head out of the way a bit as his other hand rubs his dick up and down your slit. He revels in the feeling for a moment, teasing you.

When his dick reaches your opening, he thrusts his hips forward and you moan at the feel of him inside of you, arching your back even more.

“Fuck,” he says, shaking his head as he holds your hips still. “I’m not sure how long—”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “You can make it up to me.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

He starts fucking you—pulling out, thrusting in. Gripping your hips, your breasts, hands wandering all over your body. It’s like he can’t decide what he wants to do, but it’s been so long he wants to do it all.

One hand makes its way down around your waist to stimulate your clit, rubbing circles as he continues thrusting. He leans forward and showers your back in the sweetest, softest kisses. Combined with everything else and how long it’s been, it’s enough. Your palms are flat against the shower wall, helping you push your hips back against him. You feel your legs start to shake and Hyunjin gets the hint. He doesn’t change anything he’s doing, knowing what you’re feeling right now is what will make you come.

“Fuck, fuck,” he exhales heavily as your pussy clenches around his dick. He can’t hold back any longer. He thrusts into you with reckless abandon, gripping your hips as he releases himself into you.

When he’s done, he wraps his arm under your breasts and pulls you back against him. He moves the showerhead back in place, so the warm water falls over both of you.

“Fine. I guess I’ll do the dishes for you,” he jokes, leaning down to rest his cheek against yours.

“At least you don’t have to hold back anymore,” you reply.

“That’s true. I want you in the room ready for me when I’m back from class.”

You turn your head to look at him—he’s smiling.

He had never demanded such a thing before. Not that it’s much of a demand…more of a request. Close enough for Hyunjin.  

Thanksgiving Weekend

Thursday, November 23rd

The house is just as chaotic as you imagined it would be this morning. Twelve people up before the crack of dawn loading cars with food and luggage while still half asleep. Chan instructs you and the other girls to leave first in the car with all the food to get started on the meal. He plugs in the address on the GPS and then you’re off.

The roads are relatively empty, so the drive takes just about an hour and a half. The last fifteen minutes are spent off the main road, driving slowly up a rocky path surrounded by trees.

“Now that’s a cabin,” Rhiannon says as you park the car.

It looks like a log cabin in that the exterior and pillars are all made of wood, except the top portion of the home is triangular with wooden awnings on the sides that cover the wraparound porch on the second level. There are several large windows with no coverings—probably a good thing the location is remote, so no one has to worry about neighbors looking in. In the front yard is a patio table and fire pit surrounded by chairs.

You all exit the car and start lugging the food to the front door. You enter the code on the keypad Chan had texted you and it unlocks.

The interior holds up the log cabin feel with a wide, open floor plan, but all the furniture and appliances make it feel modern. You all momentarily abandon the food at the door to explore the inside. There are four bedrooms, one downstairs and three on the second level, the third level has a loft with a computer desk and ping pong table.

You wonder if this is a rental property or if the SKZ fraternity owns it. You wouldn’t be shocked by the latter, but it’s none of your business.

After touring the cabin, the four of you get back to business and haul the food inside to start prepping the meal. The menu is a mix of traditional American and Korean food for the holiday.

When the boys arrive an hour later, they’ve stopped for a few essentials—mainly alcohol. They unload all the luggage then crowd in the kitchen and start debating over who will sleep where.

“Room Roulette?” Han suggests.

“Assignees and their members?” Jeongin says, winking at Charlotte.

“You’re already out—of course you want that,” Lee Know rebuffs while vigorously working on stuffing the turkey.

“Don’t think you can resist?” Allie asks, to which he rolls his eyes.

She still hasn’t been able to get him to break, but she’s been persistent.

“Ladies choice?” Hyunjin offers as he comes up behind you, standing at the stove, and wraps his hands around your waist.

You nudge him away playfully with your shoulder, but he stays put a moment longer, kissing the back of your neck.

“Does it really matter?” Changbin speaks up. “Everyone will just fall asleep wherever anyways.”

They continue back and forth until they’ve all had enough and just stare at Chan to make a decision.

He points to Jeongin, Han and Hyunjin, “Kai bai bo.”

The three of them stand on separate sides of the island and begin playing rock, paper, scissors. Han is out first. Before Hyunjin and Jeongin start, Jeongin has Charlotte kiss his hands for luck. It must work, because Hyunjin loses.  

Jeongin grins, heart melting dimples on display, and gives a satisfied nod.

“That’s settled then—assignees and their members,” Chan announces.

You’re still focused on the food you’re cooking, but you want so badly to turn and look at Chan to see his expression. Sharing a room with him and Hyunjin? Is he happy with the result?

The rest of the afternoon is spent with everyone helping make something. When it’s finally time for dinner, you sit between Hyunjin and Chan. You’re thankful to be here with all of them. You think back to what Chan said on your first day at the house—that you’d gain a sense of community, and you really have.

The room assignment winds up being a nonfactor. Everyone is so full and damn near comatose that, true to Changbin’s words, they fall asleep wherever they land. You wake up on the couch in the living room and make your way back to the room, but neither Hyunjin nor Chan are there. 

The next day, everyone kind of does their own thing. You go hiking with Hyunjin and a few others while everyone else stays at the house. That night, after dinner, everyone is gathered in the living room drinking and playing games. Or at least you thought everyone was. Looking around the room, you don’t see Chan.

He was here earlier, you’re certain. Where had he gone off to?

It’s closing in on the end of the month and Chan and Lee Know are the only ones that have not yet lost the competition. The others are preoccupied with their game, so you decide to go find him. Time is running out for the month, you’re extremely aware of that. And you have a little bit of liquid courage on your side now.

You take another shot of the strawberry flavored soju before getting up from the couch. He’s not in the kitchen, dining room, or the porch. You make your way up to the room you’ve been assigned on the second floor.

There he is.

He’s laying on the bed on his stomach, scrolling through his phone when you walk in. At the sound, he promptly turns around and sits up.

“Are you bored of us?”

“Nah,” he says lightly. “Just don’t wanna get too drunk again.”

Meaning he doesn’t want to lose control of himself or say anything he might regret again, you assume.

“Would you mind some company?”

You sit next to him on the bed, draping one leg over his and looking up at him with a lazy, tipsy smile.

“PG company?” He chuckles lightly, placing his hand on your leg.

“PG-13, maybe?” You counter, sliding his hand up towards your thigh.

The feel of his fingertips gliding across your skin sends an achy feeling to your core. You want to him to press his fingers against your clit to release the ache.

He smiles back at you and hooks a finger under your chin to pull your face closer to his. Since that day in the closet, he had at least been more open to semi-steamy make out sessions but always pulled away before you could go too far.

You close the distance between you, locking your lips with his as you swing your other leg across him to straddle him. He allows it. You wrap your arms around his neck as you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue past his lips. You can taste the alcohol on him, too, but it’s faint. Maybe you should have brought some in here. It still counts even if he’s drunk, right?

In any other context, that sounds terrible.  

You start to rock your hips against him, moaning when you feel his cock hardening through his sweatpants. His hands suddenly grip your hips to hold you in place.

“Chan, please,” you whisper. You kiss along his cheek, down to his neck, lightly nipping with your teeth. “I miss you fucking me.”

“No,” he says, but it sounds half-assed, not even half of the conviction you know he can muster. He shakes his head but his cock pressing against your thighs say otherwise. You grind against it again.

“It’s just a stupid competition,” you attempt your best pouty face. You’ve never known these antics to work with him, but you’re pulling at straws now.

“It’s more than that for me,” he replies softly.

“You have to win?”

“I have to resist.”

You furrow your brow.

“Please?” You slip your hand between your legs and squeeze his cock.

He sucks in a breath and in one swift motion, moves you off him and stands up. Before you can even get another word out, he’s walking towards the door, shutting it not so quietly behind him.

You sigh, running your hand through your hair. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pushed so much, so fast. You have six days left to get to him and right now, it feels like an impossible task. You knew he could hold back, but his words made it seem like it’s more than that. Resisting? Resisting what? You?

You sit for a while, wondering if he’ll come back and why this seems like such a big deal to him. After a few minutes you stand in defeat and walk to the door. As you reach for the knob, the door swings open again, startling you.

Chan is there, ushering a confused Hyunjin into the room.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks you, sounding concerned.

“Yeah? I’m fine.”

Hyunjin turns back to look at Chan with a confused look on his face.

Chan shrugs, his eyes move from you back to Hyunjin, “Y/N needs you.”

There’s something about his tone of voice that you can’t quite pin down. He sounds…dejected almost.

You try to make sense of Chan’s thought process. You plead with him to fuck you and he won’t…so he gets the next best thing in his mind? He knows you’re turned on, that you need him, but he can’t—won’t—give in. So he brings the only other person that can satisfy you right now. Why does it feel like a slap in the face, though? With his tone and the look on his face it’s as if he’s saying, you wanna be fucked so bad? Here’s Hyunjin.

Hyunjin turns back to you and smiles lazily. He reaches for your waist, pulls you to him and kisses you. You’re still surprised by what is playing out, eyes open, looking at Chan with Hyunjin’s lips on yours. Chan breaks eye contact and turns his head as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

You shut your eyes and try your best to shake the thoughts of Chan and focus on Hyunjin. It doesn’t take much trying on your part, truthfully. You could lose yourself in trying to solve the puzzle that is Chan. The only solace from the madness he conjures up inside of you is the man still standing in front of you. The one who hasn’t left.

“How can I be of service?” Hyunjin asks, nuzzling at your neck.

You can’t help but smile at his words, his actions. He’s always ready to please you and it’s never been complicated.

Sunday, November 26th

Chan did not come back to the room that night. He didn’t sleep in the room with you and Hyunjin the entire weekend, as a matter of fact. His behavior with you throughout the day was the same as usual, though. It didn’t appear that he was upset. He even joked around with you and offered a seat on his lap when all the other chairs on the patio were taken. He’s really acting like he has something to prove by abstaining this month, and you really wish you knew what it was.

Maybe you’re thinking too deeply about it…but how can you not? You also don’t want to ruin the growth you’ve made with him, so you don’t bring it up. You do, however, have a plan to hopefully end this silly competition once and for all. To see if you can push him over the edge.

After you arrive home in the afternoon, Chan leaves with some of the other members to run an errand and you know that this is your moment. Hyunjin is somewhat surprised when you tell him you’ll be staying with Chan for the night. He doesn’t question it, just kisses your forehead and says he’ll see you tomorrow.

You shower and take the items you’ll need to Chan’s room and set up as quickly as possible. You’re not sure what time he will be back, so you have no choice but to sit and wait once you’re in place.

You can feel your heart pumping in your ears. A million thoughts are racing through your mind, trying to understand how you got here. Hoping Chan has the reaction you want. You want to win the competition, sure, who wouldn’t in this situation? But you’re also eager to please Chan in a way you’ve never tried before. To give him complete control of you.  

You’re excited. You’re nervous. You’re so out of your element.

You shift around in his bed, really wanting to check the time on your phone but unable to. Your hands are linked together with the furry black handcuffs you got from the mall, looped through a space in his headboard. You have waited all month for this. To catch him off guard, with a sight that is hopefully so shocking he will not be able to resist.

Though you tried to seduce him at other times throughout the month, you still had this wildcard up your sleeve in case none of your attempts worked. Which they hadn’t. So here you are, lying in his bed in skimpy black lingerie. It’s a one piece, lace body suit that’s cut out around the breasts so they’re on full display. The area between your legs is exposed, so you keep your legs bent, knees pressed together. The ensemble is accompanied by black, knee-high stockings and a garter belt.

You could hardly believe the sight looking at your own reflection. You just have to hope it’s enough. And fucking pray no one randomly decides to come in Chan’s room since you had no choice but to leave the door unlocked. You’d be fucking mortified.

Another few more minutes pass and you hear car doors closing in the driveway. Your heartbeat picks up again, fraught with anticipation.

It feels like a lifetime passes before you hear footsteps outside the door. Chan’s laughing at something someone said as he approaches. At least he’s in a good mood, maybe this will work. You sit up as straight as you can with your hands hanging above you.

You hold your breath as the doorknob turns while simultaneously trying to figure out what to do with your face. A cute look? A look of innocence? Seduction? You bite your bottom lip between your teeth, attempting to hide your inner panic and that’s the look you’re stuck with as he enters.

His eyes land on you—exposed and cuffed to his bed—his laugh abruptly stops. His smile falters.

He exhales a loud sigh, drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. You’re chewing on the inside of your lip now as your nerves take over. This was not the reaction you had anticipated. Is he angry?  Frustrated? Put off?

Maybe you shouldn’t have welcomed yourself into his bed. It’s not like you had an open invitation after the night he allowed you to sleep here with him. That hadn’t happened again since, and he hadn’t even mentioned it.

“Chan,” a timid voice says. It’s yours, but you hardly recognize it.

He straightens his head and looks at you again, eyes moving from your head, down to your stocking covered toes. He lets out another loud sigh and runs his hand through his hair. He shakes his head, blinking incredulously as he steps back and retreats from the room.

When the door closes, your heart sinks.

[ picture book for photos of the cabin and lingerie ]

a/n: please don't kill me. this one had to end on a cliffhanger. like, comment, reblog to show your support <3 what do we think, is chan coming back? or is he gonna win this thing?

taglist: @iflmho / @stayatinykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland / @hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy / @ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @hynxnelly / @teti-menchon0604 / @you-make-skz-stay / @zandra-42 / @seungminindabuilding / @slytherinatheart / @loveuwoo / @hyunjinhoexxx / @chartrucewhore / @torothecatt / @fun-fanfics / @yaorzu-blog / @yjeonginlvr / @huneyeon / @kpop-kink / @tenshimara / @a-person-with-void / @ilovetheworldilivein / @dhillomilo / @skzfelixlove / @luvvvash / @blondechannie / @sailor--sun / @stephanieeeyang / @msauthor / @grlcbrd / @okkkcausewhet / @bangtancultsposts / @wannareadstories / @jenniferlr / @shroomcapp / @lyracarvahall / @palindrome969 / @grandma143

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[dotchannie]

- 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚎 :: c.bc x reader (MDNI)

synopsis: channie finds his lovers little toy whilst trying to entertain himself in a rare moment he’s left himself home alone.

a/n: repost ik ik whatever, im stilling moving blogs technically but one day it'll be something new <3 part two will probably drop in the next week or so ! fem reader in that part but this one is more solo chan than anything else !

wc: 1,256.

Warnings: housewife chan he is a domestic queen and he’s lonely:(, mentions of living repetitive days, solo male masturbation with toys oop, vibrator over clothes, mentions of a hand job(not described), he busts quick sorry chan<3, cumming in his pants, petnames(baby twice i think), whiny booooy ! next part will be filthier <3

Chan feels very uneasy in his own home at the moment- so used to being the one jetting around the world that he can't quite settle at it being your turn instead.

It's only a fleeting trip to visit relatives, but it’s enough to have him picking his phone up every couple of seconds- blinking notifications having hope settling in his chest that maybe, just maybe, you require his attention.

Alas, your love is needed elsewhere, your partner left to his own devices- bandmates caught up in their own commitments back home too, their leader struggling in what should be a relaxing time. A period of down low. Chan prefers to be busy, to have a task weighing heaving on his shoulders and engaging his mind.

Hence his current situation, rooms gutted one by one as he works his wonders with whatever cleaning supplies he can get his hands on- the kitchen his first target. Spices long forgotten in the depths of storage pulled to the light, discarding as necessary as he uses his new found hobby to hone in on his organisation skills.

He even dabbles in some cooking, various ingredients already creeping up to their best before thanks to only feeding one mouth- if nothing else he has a couple hearty meals prepped in your absence.

The next chore see’s him tackling the living room. All he really needs to is straighten up some blankets and pillows, hoover a little, maybe a candle or something to make it feel homey while you're still away- more of his time spent in the four walls making up the bedroom.

Days begin merging into one as far as Chan’s concerned, each one starting with cleaning and ending with, well, cleaning.

By the time the next day rolls round he's more than half way through scrubbing the entire house- the plans today were to face your shared bathroom, but when he bypasses through the bedroom and is greeted by the chaos he's currently living in, he feels guilty that you're usually the one keeping on top of it.

Clothes tossed all over the room, shoes kicked off and forgotten about in favour of launching himself straight into plush sheets instead- and he can already hear your nagging at how his dirty clothes are on the floor near the laundry basket, not in it- something he now realises is completely justified.

Room cleaning is never straight forward though, and now he’s sat himself infront of the lower drawers attached to the wardrobe, legs criss-crossed as he folds, cramming in even more clothes he's managed to pull out of every crevice in the room.

Reaching forward to scoot some of your belongings around, he makes contact with a metallic object.

It’s cold when he takes it between the pads of his fingertips, believing it to be something else he would need to find a rightful home for on his mad cleaning spree- spending a couple moments rolling it back and forth before spinning it far enough to see a small power symbol near the base of the foreign object, gasping at his own discovery.

He's holding his breath as he presses the power button once. Nothing. He holds it in for a couple seconds this time. Nothing again. He let's out a sigh- no idea if it’s relief or defeat.

But curiousity has already gotten the better of him, inquisitive hands rummaging in the same drawer once more to see if you have a charger for this thing. And low behold you do.

Chan wastes no time plugging it in, busying himself with more tidying- bed stripped and remade with fresh sheets, all the while repeadeatly looking back towards the bedside table.

He manages to forget about it long enough to go take a shower, skin grimey from the accumulation of sweat and dirt but he's back to square one when he lays down to rest for the night. Scrutinising your little friend as it lays by his side- staring at it like it's going to do something spectacular before his very eyes.

Eventually, bravery takes over- thoughts of you quick to flood his mind when it’s in his palm once more. Do you use it when he's away? Do you use it when he's home and busy in the janky makeshift studio in the spare room? He always has headphones on he'd probably never hear you anyway.

He doesn't even realised he's pressing the button, mind running through a million scenarios, a soft "oh" slipping his lips as it begins to frantically buzz between his thumb and index finger.

Chan’s pleasantly surprised by the power it packs and he can only imagine how good it feels for you when you put it to use- excitement building as he considers his next action, a shake of his head stopping the train before it gets on the tracks fully and returning it to it's charger before rolling over to be welcomed by a restless night.

He goes about the next day much like he did the previous, starting to feel like he was stuck in a groundhog kind of situation.

Welcomed by the duvet, he makes himself comfortable on your side of the bed- eyes locked on to his new found enemy that has his brain turning to mush in his head.

But when he picks it up this time he has much different intentions.

Instinct alone guiding him to place it directly on his tip, hips violently rising of the bed with a heavy "oh fuck" when the bullet springs to life.

He's completely underestimated the capabilities of such a compact toy- chest immediately feeling like it's caving in from stimulation.

The brief contact ensuring him that one, this is going to be the quickest release since his first and two, it's going to become addicting- not daring place it on his bare skin.

Slowly running it up and down his length, his eyelids pull shut against his will, never having felt anything like it, doubting he ever will- back arching so far off the bed he's almost resting on his crown.

Ragged puffs of air escape his nose, nostrils flared wide- chest heaving as he begs to keep up with his own self inflicted torture.

Chan's completely taken by surprise by his own orgasm- quick and powerful when it hits him, announcing to an empty room that he's going to come.

"oh god, oh fuck- im cumming, ahhhhh im gonna bust baby, just like that", pent up energy being realesed in the form of repeatedly slapping at the blankets as he does.

With his head feeling like it’s full of cotton wool he can't help but groan at the tacky feeling of his boxers clinging to him, mouth dry and uncomfortable from hanging open so long.

In his state of bliss, Chan barely makes out the sound of his phone ringing- scrambling to pick it up when he eyes focus enough to register your name, news you're finally on your way back to him.

"Chan! I'm in the taxi now I'll be home soon!", your voice comes through the speaker in a sing song tone but he's struggling to make sense of what you're saying.

"Chan? Can your hear me? Hellooo?".

He let's out something akin to a whine, completely beyond his control and using what little breath he can catch to huff out a dazed response,

"baby, you gotta hurry I need help"

You ask the driver to pick up the pace and rush you home, quick.

🏷️: @rose-tinted-kalopsia

𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 !

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x reader smut #chan x reader #chan x reader smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader smut #skz smut #skz x reader

[koolades-world]

Hello there! hope your day is going good and if not I hope it gets better.

I was wondering if I could request a scenario (you can do headcanon format) Where Mc is in a life or death because a lower demon is about to kill them and Mc actually kills the lower demon with their own magic. how would the undatables react/comfort Mc after they killed someone because their life was in danger.

Thank you in advance if you do decide to write and make sure to stay hydrated!

hi there! i can do that :)

hope you're having a great day too <3 just drank water with a liquid iv in it so hopefully im super hydrated now haha. i've had a bit of a sore throat for the past few days now so i've been really chugging water better than i usually have which says a lot! love me my 30 oz water bottle that goes everywhere with me

enjoy!

Undatables react to Mc killing a lower demon while defending themself

Diavolo

he's very proud of you but quickly goes on high alert

you've never seen him more serious

he's doing all sorts of things such as upping security measures and looking into the background of the now deceased demon to ensure your safety and to make sure there wasn't anything more behind the attack

he makes sure to give you a huge hug and lets you know exactly how he feels <3

Barbatos

if you hadn't killed them, he would've finished the job for you

since there's no work there for him to do, he'll be taking a visit to see that demon's relatives in the near future

in the meantime, he'll help you unwind and try to take your mind off it

perhaps a tea party with all your favorite treats and little d's there, if you'd like :)

Simeon

he won't ask questions and he'll heal you no matter what

even if you didn't get very hurt, he insists you stay under his care for a little bit

you'll get the best bedside care and soup ever

let him dote on you, it'll make him feel better too knowing you're safe in his arms <3

Luke

he's immediately freaking out

what do you mean a lower demon tried to kill you!!!

100% in tears and refuses to let you out of death grip hug he has on you

the next day, he gifts you an amulet with an angelic blessing on it and asks you to carry it everywhere with you. doesn't care if that means the brothers can't get anywhere near you now. better for him that way anyways haha

Solomon

he's very impressed!

gah they grow up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he gave you the nickname of his apprentice

deep underneath his gushing, he's worried but he knows that you're capable

even goes as far as to give a few little tips for the future. love at it's finest haha

Mephisto

he's furious with himself that he even let you get in that situation

he almost feels as if he's failed you, but he tries to hold up a facade of nonchalantness

it won't take much coaxing to break down this barrier and see how upset he actually is

if you notice him being extra loving in the next week or so, try not to comment on it but accept his affections

Thirteen

she's with you as much as she can be, but she knows it's just impossible to be by your side all the time

she's angry at herself and the now dead lower demon because that window of time when she's away is never very large

but, she knows you are more than strong enough to take care of yourself if it wasn't already apparent before

she'll make excuse after excuse to be with you until she eventually just spills the beans. she really cares about you <33

Raphael

he's gonna check you at least three times over to make sure you're alright

but right after he almost scolds you, in a loving way

he tells you he should've been the one to do it and that he should've been by your side

he was just very nervous he could've lost you, but is so proud of how you stood up for yourself <3

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me thirteen #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me mephisto #obey me solomon #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3

a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2

cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.

The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.

Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..

His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.

If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.

Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.

Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"

Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.

Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.

When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.

Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.

Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."

Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.

Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."

Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.

With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."

"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.

Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."

Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.

He can never let Eddie know that.

"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."

Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."

Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."

Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."

Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.

Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.

Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.

"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."

Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

Steve is running late.

It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.

Robin's always right.

Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.

For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.

Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.

Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.

Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.

Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.

Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.

It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.

"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.

"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.

"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."

Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.

Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.

It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.

Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.

With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.

Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.

He knows this is the best he's going to get.

"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."

Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"

Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."

Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."

Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.

He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.

"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.

Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"So I have a big question for you..."

Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.

"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."

Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"

Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"

Oh. "I already have a job."

It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."

"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."

Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."

Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."

He doesn't mean it.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso @yesdangerpls

@lingermirth

@adealwithher @antonymeanonyme @stevah-hawcett @samsoble @mugloversonly

@stripey82 @anaibis @mycatsstolemybiscuit @flustratedcas @alfhitchblonde

@s0ft-strawberries @slavicviking @theheadlessphilosopher

@l1lpip @emmabubbles @arepaconchocolate

@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland

#guys really i swear there is a happy ending #ive gone full blown story now #yal hyped me up its your fault #also im so excited for the next part hehehe #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #ficlet #angst #hurt comfort #i wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) #ao3

[yandereunsolved]

ꨄ︎ Yandere Podcaster — Amos Emerie ꨄ︎

"Welcome to Holy Springs, darling!" I had a vision of you coming here. We must be destined to be together.

"Nice to meet you?"

"Oh, I'm Amos! I actually run a pretty successful podcast. You've probably heard of it before. It's called Yandere Unsolved."

"I listen to that every morning! How could I not recognize your voice? I'm so stupid."

"Me? You listen to me?" I think I just came.

"Yeah! I love how you delve into the unsolved murders supposedly committed by these deranged murderers."

Ow. I am not that deranged. I just love you a little too much. I wouldn't kill anyone unless I really needed to. It's against my moral code. Moral is a subjective word, after all!

"It's something I-I'm really interested in as well!"

Can they tell I'm sweating? I'm not sweating that much. It'll be fine. It'll be fine. They don't even notice. They just look so cute. They smell even better than my visions could have predicted. I wonder why type of—

"Amos! I have a question. Why does this place seem so barren?"

There are a bunch of entities, both good and evil, inhabiting this place. I'm getting to them before they get to you. I couldn't let anyone get to my precious darling. The rest better back off. I'll fuck up their bets if they don't. Steal some of their money. Yeah, totally. 

"This is just a cozy little town. It's usually not so quiet. I guess you just moved in here during a quiet day."

"That makes sense. Would you mind showing me to... one second... this location. It's where my apartment is. I normally wouldn't ask someone I just met, but my phone has been glitching since I got here, and I don't exactly have a psychical map I am able to use. I couldn't even find this town on the maps! I guess it's just because it's so tiny, haha."

Ugh, I know who that is. That demonic ass better not be trying to lay claim to you.

"I can show you there! Your apartment is actually right next to mine." It's just how I envisioned it. I just hope they aren't feeding right now. That ghoul always seems so ravenous for another meal. I couldn't let them get to you.

"What a strange coincidence!"

"Yeah—coincidence... Let's go!"

I'll protect you along the way and from the others.

You're already mine.

You just don't know it yet.

#sleepy series #yandere #oc #ocs #my ocs #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere drabble #fic #drabble #original character #yandere original character #yandere oc x reader #yandere original character x reader #yandere male character #reader insert #male yandere #yandere male #yandere scenarios #yandere blog #yandere thoughts #fanfic #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

[otomehoneyybearr]

Golden Week Happy Bag 2024

Kagari’s Story

One day, during my stay in Kogyoku, I had been whisked away by Kagari.

Kagari: "Princess."

Emma: "Wah...!"

Suddenly pulled back by the shoulders, I instinctively cling to Kagari sitting beside me.

Kagari: "...You were leaning too far forward. You would have fallen if you stayed like that."

Emma: "Oops, Sorry, I'll be more careful."

Kagari: "You better be. If you get injured, it'll ruin the cherry blossom viewing."

(Even though it was you who forcefully brought me here...)

(But you don't often get to see such a beautiful view, do you?)

The place where Kagari took me to was atop a cherry blossom tree in the castle with red tiles.

The fully bloomed cherry blossoms filling my sight, along with the blue sky and the town visible through the gaps, create a fantastical scene like a painting.

I gaze in wonder, as a gentle breeze caresses my skin, carrying the cherry blossom petals that fluttered around.

(It's beautiful...)

Kagari: "In Kogyoku, it's said that if you can catch falling cherry blossom petals with your non-dominant hand, you'll find happiness."

Kagari: "I suppose you want to try it, Princess?"

Emma: "Of course. I'll make it happen in one go, so please watch."

Focusing on the fluttering petals, I waited for the right moment.

(Now!)

Kagari: "..."

(Here it is!)

Kagari: "..."

(This time for sure!)

Emma: "That's odd, seems like I'm off my game today."

Kagari: "Just admit that your reflexes and visual acuity are lacking."

(Well... that's harsh.)

The result was a crushing defeat, ending with me just grabbing at thin air.

Kagari: "Your hair seems to be doing a better job."

As soon as the hand wrapped in red gloves touched my hair, petals began to fall from it.

Kagari: "That’s one, two, three... four petals."

Emma: "That's a lot."

Kagari: "It seems you're fond of this cherry blossom. Hold still since there are still some left."

Emma: "Uh, okay."

(It feels like being petted on the head. It's nice, but a little embarrassing.)

Pretending not to notice the warmth on my cheeks, I wait for Kagari to withdraw his hand.

Kagari: "..."

Emma: "Um, is something the matter, Kagari?"

Noticing the intense gaze, I keep my gaze on Kagari without averting them.

For some reason, Kagari takes a cherry blossom petal from my hair and puts it in his own, then tilts his head towards me.

(Is he… asking me to take it?)

Reaching out to his fiery red hair, I pluck the petal.

Occasionally, my hand is pressed against his head, and instinctively, I start to stroke it...

(Ah… it feels like being affectionately approached by a big cat, it's cute.)

Seeing a slight softening in his expression, my heart tightens.

Kagari: "Is it over already?"

Emma: "Yes. I've taken all the petals out."

Kagari: "...I see."

(Somehow, he seems disappointed.)

(Come to think of it, why did Kagari bring me to see the cherry blossoms?)

Subordinate: "Your highness."

I lowered my gaze at the sudden voice to find Kagari's subordinate standing there.

Subordinate: "The preparations for the meeting are complete."

Kagari: "Alright. You may proceed with it."

Subordinate: "Yes, understood."

(A meeting...)

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Emma: "Um, Kagari, you seem to be injured..."

Kagari: "It's not my blood."

Kagari: "Your timing is truly terrible, Princess."

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(Is another battle about to begin?)

Anxiety and fear crawl up my spine as the image of Kagari covered in blood flashes in my mind.

(I’d been taught that battles are like everyday occurrences in Kogyoku.)

(Still, I hope the damage isn't too severe.)

Although I'm an outsider, I can't help but earnestly wish for it.

Kagari: "...Apologies are meaningless now."

Emma: "Huh?"

When I looked up, the expressionless emerald eyes that had been staring at me turned towards the cherry blossoms as if passing by.

Kagari: "The cherry blossom viewing is over. It was a good distraction."

The wind once again stirred the cherry blossoms, showering petals.

Kagari effortlessly plucked a petal dancing in the air between his thumb and forefinger, and offered it to me.

Kagari: "A petal caught by a demon should have some effect."

Emma: "Only some effect?"

Kagari: "Don't want it? Fine then, suit yourself."

Kagari: "Did you want to become that happy?"

Emma: "I want it because it's a petal you caught for me."

Kagari: "Is that so?"

Emma: "Yes, it is."

Kagari: "...I see. It feels good to hear that."

Emma: "Thank you. I'll treasure it."

(An apology... Was that the meaning behind the cherry blossom viewing?)

(Yasha and battle maniac are terms used to describe him, but at heart, he's a kind person.)

I carefully cradle the received petal in both hands, making sure it doesn't get swept away by the wind.

(Another memory that's been made in here in kogyoku.)

Kagari: "You're that happy over just one petal? You're an easy-to-please Princess."

Emma: "Whoa...!?"

As I’m forcefully pulled closer, Kagari scooped me up in his arms and descended from the cherry blossom tree.

He’s always abrupt and forceful like this.

As my feet touch the ground, a sense of loneliness washes over me, as if signaling the end of a dream.

Kagari: "Farewell, Princess."

Emma: "...Yes."

(I've met Kagari many times already.)

(Yet... he never says "see you later," does he?)

▼・ᴥ・▼

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #ikepri translations #kagari amagase #ikepri kagari

[pockettwinzz]

My Heaven - S.JY

୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : Fluff, Angst, Toxic parents, Kissing, SFW, not proofread

୨୧ A/N ୨୧ : wrote this in a haste cause i really wanted to release smth for the weekend so I apologize if it's bad :3. Also enhypen's releasing a new version of dark moon ><

୨୧ Word count ୨୧ : 1.7k

As you sat in your new college classroom, your mind drifted away from the mundane lecture on ancient history. You couldn't help but wonder how the rest of your college experience would turn out. With your perfect 4.0 GPA from high school, you had been accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. However, even though you had been top of your class and had received countless awards and accolades, it seemed that your parents were never truly happy with you. They constantly pressured you to study even harder and to strive for even greater heights.

Meanwhile, Jake, who had coasted through high school with mediocre grades and minimal effort, had been welcomed into this new university with open arms. Everyone seemed to love him, and he was constantly surrounded by a group of friends. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as you watched him laugh and joke with them during the break.

As the semester progressed, you found yourself struggling to keep up with the workload. Your classes were more challenging than you had anticipated, and the constant pressure from your parents only made matters worse. You often found yourself staying up late into the night, hunched over your books, tears streaming down your face as you tried to understand the complex concepts and theories.

Life wasn't going how you wanted it too and seeing others, mostly Jake, sucked up to the professors, get high grades without much effort made you feel even worse. You didn't understand why your parents always thought you were useless. You tried to talk to them about it, to tell them that you were doing your best, but they never listened. They just kept pushing you harder, telling you that you could do better. You started to lose hope, to feel like you were drowning in a sea of academic expectations.

You never knew when it happened, maybe when Jake stole the first position, or maybe when he scored more marks from you on that one chemistry practical, but it was safe to say you hate him. You hated him for being so perfect, for being so loved, for being able to do everything effortlessly while you had to work your ass off to get even a B. You hated him for making your life miserable, for making you feel like you were never good enough, for making you feel like you were nothing but a burden to your parents.

One day, after yet another grueling exam, you decided that you'd had enough. You couldn't take it anymore. You walked up to Jake in the hallway, your hands shaking with anger and frustration. "Why do you get everything so easy?" you demanded, your voice quivering with emotion. "Why does everyone love you and hate me?"

Jake looked taken aback by your outburst, his perfect features twisting into a frown. "What?".

"Why does it always have to be like this?" you cried, your voice cracking. "Why does everyone always love you and hate me? I just want to be normal, just once!" You felt like you were about to burst, like all of the anger and frustration you'd been feeling for so long was building up inside of you, ready to explode. You didn't know why you were telling Jake any of this, but you couldn't help it. You needed someone to understand.

Jake hesitated for a moment, seeming unsure of how to respond. Finally, he took a step closer to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Look, I get it," he said softly. "It's hard sometimes, trying to live up to everyone's expectations. But you know what? You're amazing. You're smart, and talented, and you've got so much to offer. You just need to believe in yourself, okay?"

"Shut up" you snapped, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. "You don't understand anything. You've never had to struggle, never had to fight for anything." You turned away from him, anger and hurt burning in your chest. "Stop pretending to be so nice. I hate it, I hate you"

Jake let out a sigh, looking genuinely hurt. "I'm sorry if I've ever done anything to make you feel that way," he said quietly.

You turned back to him, tears streaming down your face. "It's not just you," you sobbed. "It's everyone. I'm just so tired of feeling like I'm never good enough. I'm tired of feeling like a burden." Jake's expression softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear from your cheek.

"You're not a burden," he said gently. "And you are good enough. You're more than good enough. You just need to remember that." He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "And you know what? If it means that much to you, I'll help you. I'll help you get through this."

You looked up at him, surprised by his offer. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you want me to help you, I will. I'll study with you, or whatever you need. We can work together to get through this," Jake explained, his voice firm but gentle. "Because you're right, it's not fair. You are good enough, and you deserve to be happy. You deserve to have people believe in you."

You felt a strange sensation in your chest, like a warmth spreading through you. You didn't quite understand it, but it was nice. It was nice to feel like someone actually cared. "Really?" you asked, looking up at him. "You'd really help me?"

Jake nodded, his expression sincere. "Yeah, of course I would. We're friends, aren't we? Besides, it's not like I've got everything easy. I've just learned how to deal with it."

As tensions began to ease between you, Jake started to show you a different side of himself. He'd always been considerate and caring, but now those qualities seemed to shine brighter than ever before. He'd listen intently when you spoke, offering thoughtful advice and encouragement. He'd laugh at your jokes, even when they weren't funny, and he'd make an effort to include you in group activities. You began to feel a warmth in your chest whenever he was around.

One day, as you studied together in the library, you noticed Jake looking at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes seemed to hold an intensity that you'd never seen before, and it made you feel both nervous and excited at the same time. As you spoke, he'd occasionally glance at you, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was then that you realized, with a start, that you were in love with him.

Over the next few weeks, your friendship blossomed into something deeper. The way Jake treated you, with respect and admiration, made you feel like the most special person in the world. You found yourself looking forward to spending time with him, just talking or watching a movie. The gentle way he touched your hand when he passed you a pen or the way he'd tease you about your favorite TV shows only served to intensify the feelings you had for him.

One evening, as you studied together in his room, the lights were low and the only sound was the soft rustling of pages. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn't even notice how close Jake was sitting to you. You were acutely aware of his presence, of the way his shoulder brushed against yours every time he reached for a pen or turned a page. The air between you seemed to crackle with an electricity that you couldn't quite explain.

As the night wore on, you found yourself glancing up at him more and more often, studying the lines of his face, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the way his lips moved as he spoke. You felt your heart race every time he looked at you, and you could swear that there was something different in his eyes. Something warm and intense.

You tried to concentrate on your work, but your mind kept wandering, drifting back to the way he'd been acting. You wondered if he felt the same way about you. You wondered what he would do if you confessed your feelings. A part of you was terrified of ruining your friendship, but another part of you longed for something more. Something deep and lasting. Something real.

"J-jake," you stammer, your voice barely audible over the thunder of your heart. "I-I love you." The words hang in the air between you, heavy and palpable, as if they've been weighing on your chest for far too long. You feel your face flush with embarrassment, but at the same time, there's a strange sense of relief in finally getting the words out.

Jake goes still, his eyes widening in surprise. He hesitates for a moment, searching your face, before exhaling softly and leaning in closer. His lips meet yours, tentatively at first, but with a growing intensity that takes your breath away. You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his hands gently cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the sensation of being connected to him. His taste, his smell, the feel of his skin against yours—it's all so familiar and yet so new at the same time. You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting more of him.

Jake responds eagerly, deepening the kiss even further. His tongue dances with yours, teasing and exploring, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the passion building inside of you, a warmth spreading through your entire body. You never knew you could feel this way about someone, this alive, this desired.

As you break away from the kiss, your eyes meet his, and you see the love reflected there. It's a look of wonder and awe, as if he can't quite believe how lucky he is to be sharing this moment with you. He trails his fingers down your cheek, over your jawline, and to your lips again, this time softly tracing their outline.

"I love you too, Yn," he whispers. "I've loved you for a long time."

Your heart soars at his words, and you feel a newfound sense of joy and security wash over you. You realize that this is what you've always wanted, to be truly loved and cherished by someone as wonderful as Jake. You lean in and kiss him again, this time with more passion and longing, as if you could never get enough of his lips on yours.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay

{reply or send ask to be added Minors + blogs w/o ages DNI}

#enhypen #pockettwinzz writes #enha x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x female reader #enhypen jake #jake sim #enhypen fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jake x reader #jake x reader #jake x y/n #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake angst #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #dividers by dollywons #moodboards by pockettwinzz #sfw

[annwrites]

exactly what he needs, pt. 3 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt1 | pt 2

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: nate takes you shopping at the mall, to dinner, then bowling, before dropping you off at home.

— tags: having a great day with nate, even if he has ulterior motives

— tw: dollification, objectification, sexualization, emotional manipulation, pushing boundaries, guilt-tripping, drinking, eating

— word count: approx. 6.4k

— a/n: i have never been inside a nordstrom in my life, so i have 0 idea what their changing rooms actually look like. | baby-doll dresses | tennis skirt | blush | necklace

GIF by msgorillagripcoochie

Once you and Nate are on the road, he decides to offer you full access to his car's stereo once again—he has an aux cord stored away in the center console, which he'll only offer if you can't figure out how to pair your phone through bluetooth.

There's just something about the idea of his truck being saved in your phone that appeals to him. Hell, maybe he'll get lucky and you'll fuck up, letting it read your calls and texts, too. He wouldn't mind finding out who all you're talking to.

If he's lucky, it'll be people he knows. People he can spin stories to you about to get you to cut them out of your life.

He'd made the mistake with Maddy in letting her have friends. Like Cassie—he didn't need to list the problems she'd caused. Then there was Kat, always her enabling little sidekick. Even Lexi to an extent, who he knows you're also friends with. He supposes as far as female friends to have goes, Lexi is the better one to keep company with, but she's still Cassie's sister.

He knows he'll, in time, need to figure out a way to get rid of her. But that's a problem for future him.

"Would you like to play some music?"

You smooth out the skirt of your dress. "Sure. Do you have a uh-"

"It has bluetooth."

"Oh."

Great, you think, I get to spend the next fifteen minutes looking like an idiot as I fight to get the thing to pair with my cell.

Surprisingly, however, you get it to sync up rather quickly. You scan through your music, now sweating, wondering what song to choose. What if he thinks your taste in music is stupid? Then, you mentally shrug. He can take over at that point if he thinks so.

Eventually, a soft melody begins to drift through the cabin, low enough that it serves simply as pleasant background noise, until Nate reaches over, turning the volume up, making you shrink back in your seat.

You turn the room a shade heaven, and learn my name.

You flush. You shouldn't have chosen a stupid romantic song. You should've chosen anything else.

You look out the window, refusing to sing along like you normally would as the chorus starts.

No one ever will love me better than your everlasting love. I found only one way in and no way out...

You fold your hands in your lap, waiting for the damn song to eventually end.

Finally, once the tempo has faded, Nate turns the radio down.

"Is that one of your favorite songs?"

You glance at him, nodding.

He can tell you're embarrassed, but can't understand why. He thinks it sweet: one of your favorite songs being one about love.

He then wonders if you sing. Perhaps, if so, you'll do so once you're more comfortable being around him like this.

"I liked it."

"Oh, good," you say, still flushed.

He likes how easily he has that effect on you.

"So, where are you wanting to head to?"

You shrug, fumbling with your phone and turning some lofi music on instead now. Nothing with lyrics.

"Wherever you want to go is fine with me."

He likes that: you letting him choose for you. Letting him make a decision for the both of you.

He enjoys how easily agreeable you are today.

He hopes it's due to you feeling comfortable enough with him that you trust him to do so.

"Do you want to eat first, or would you like to go to the mall for a bit?"

You glance at the clock and see that it's only a few minutes past four. "I can wait a couple more hours to eat."

He nods, heading in the direction of the East Highland mall.

Once Nate has parked, he comes around to your side and you nearly slip on the running board, falling against his chest.

He catches you, helping you down.

You look up at him, your face a shade of red. "Sorry. Thanks."

Stupid klutz—should've worn boots, you think.

He shuts the door behind you, quickly locking the vehicle before placing his hand against the small of your back. "No problem."

As you enter the mall, a pair of men leave, glancing at you. Admiring you, from Nate's perspective.

His grip tightens imperceptibly, pulling you the least bit closer to him as he gives the men a nasty look.

Meanwhile, you're oblivious, instead overwhelmed by the sights and sounds and smells, the awful florescent lighting overhead. God, you hate crowds.

You look up to him, just wanting him to pick a store to get you out of the way of everyone milling about. Coming here on a Friday afternoon was a bad idea.

He looks down at you. "Where to first?"

He can see that you're nervous. His brows furrow. "Do crowds make you uneasy?"

You nod, your eyes staring into his, practically screaming for him to get you out of here.

He lets his hand drop to his side, then speaks again. "Do you want to hold my hand?"

You blanch.

Having something—someone—to ground you and lead you through the throngs of people surrounding you sounds nice enough, but what if someone from school is here and sees you? And won't it seem a bit childish? That you're that easily overstimulated that you have to hold another grown-person's hand in a shopping mall?

Just as you're about to tell him no—that you're ok—someone bumps into you, shoving you into his side.

Your hand quickly latches onto his.

Nate twines his fingers between yours.

You don't see the smirk on his face.

Nate leads you into Nordstrom, a store you've never been in before because you know it's far, far out of your price-range, but you don't object as you step inside, the crowds behind you fading away as quiet pop music plays overhead, only a handful of people browsing the racks of clothing.

You look up to him, suddenly unsure of yourself.

"You can look around, if you want."

You release his hand and he already hates the feeling of his palm being empty.

You step over to a rack of midi dresses and your eyes widen when you see a price tag for $120.

Nate keeps close to your side. "Do you like that one?"

He knows he doesn't—hates midi and maxi dresses—but he wants to buy you something today. Anything. He just wants to give you your first real present from him.

He doesn't count him bringing you breakfast everyday for the last week—despite your objections, even if you did always finish it with a grateful 'thank you'—as as much.

You place the dress back where it was hanging, shaking your head. You look up to him. "That dress it over one-hundred dollars. Nate, I can't afford to shop here."

Not unless they have a clearance section, you think. But even then...

Nate steps away from you for a moment, his attention now stolen away by a white babydoll dress with puffy sleeves. Fucking perfect, he thinks.

He grabs it off the high hook which it hangs from—something you'd never be able to reach—and goes to hand it to you.

"Try this on."

You hesitantly take it from him, a confused expression on your face. "Why?"

He shrugs. "I just think it'd look nice on you."

You hold it up to yourself, not liking that it comes up well-above your knees.

"I don't thi-"

"The changing rooms are this way," he says, nodding his head in the direction of the back of the store. He doesn't care to hear you argue. You're trying the dress on. He needs to see it on you.

He'd been picturing you wearing—essentially—that exact dress for over a week now.

He places his palm against your back, leading you to the desired destination.

Once you've reached the back of the store, Nate opens a wooden door to one of the changing areas and just stares at you, waiting for you to enter.

Finally, you sigh, stepping in.

"I'll be waiting right out here," he says before closing the door behind you.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, realizing just how different—how little—you look like yourself right now. But you consider it, perhaps, a good thing: forcing yourself out of your comfort zone, even just a little.

You'd been considering finally wearing the sundress that Nate had picked out for you for a few weeks now. It was nice of him to compliment it—you. You aren't entirely sure how you feel about your hair being down, however.

Finally, you hang the dress up that he'd handed you, deciding to get undressed. The sooner you've tried it on, the sooner you can be out of this over-priced boutique.

Nate sits in a chair directly outside of your changing room, watching your legs shift from one foot to the other, until, finally, your sundress pools at your feet.

His cock hardens, knowing just a few feet away is your half-naked body. He leans back, waiting a minute, then two, then he stands.

He gently knocks on the door and you jolt in surprise.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you have it on?"

"Yes..."

"May I come in? I'd like to see."

You balk. He wants to come into the changing room with you? Is that even allowed?

"Isn't that against some sort of policy?"

He likes how much of a good girl you are—no, fuck it, loves it—but in this moment his patience is wearing real fucking thin. "No one else is out here," he replies as gently as he can.

A beat of silence, and then the lock on the door handle clicks.

He quickly enters the changing room, promptly taking in every inch of you.

You look just how he had imagined you would.

You don't meet his eyes. "I look so stu-"

"Perfect," he interrupts.

You look up to him. "What? Really?"

He studies you for a moment, your wide innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for him to answer.

He runs his fingers through the hair draped over your shoulder. He then runs his hand along that same shoulder down your upper arm, where it comes to rest. "Yes. I just wish you could see what I do."

You blink up at him, then sniffle.

"Are you crying?" He nearly cringes. That question had come out a bit more harsh than he'd meant for it to. He'd wanted you emotionally vulnerable numerous times for the last week so he could finally find a way in, and now here it is. He prays he didn't just fuck it up.

You nod. "I'm sorry. I'm just...no one has ever been this nice to me."

He almost breathes a sigh of relief. He hadn't hurt your feelings.

So that's all it's going to take with you: a few kind gestures, some nice words, a few soft touches, and you'd be like putty in his hands. His to mold as he pleases.

This was what being alone for so long had done to you: made you desperate for affection—of any kind.

You step a bit closer to him, unsure of yourself, unsure what you're doing or even why.

When he doesn't move, you press yourself against his broad chest, taking him completely by surprise.

Fine with being alone his ass. That entire statement had been utter bullshit. Not even you understand just how lonely you are.

Finally, he wraps one arm around you, holding you close, his other hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp.

You remain quiet, just focusing on his breathing, the beat of his heart, his warmth. When was the last time someone had held you like this? Hugged you? Shown you any form of affection or attention?

You'd truly thought you were fine without it.

Meanwhile, Nate's head is racing. God, you'd shown him just in this action alone just how easy it was going to be to manipulate you. A couple of compliments had nearly brought you to tears? Just wait until the two of you are in a relationship. No, starting tonight he'll begin pouring it on heavier.

But once you two are together? He'll fucking suffocate you with gifts and attention and love. And above all: sex. That will be his weapon. You're inexperienced. Know nothing about it. A few orgasm denials and Lexi will be long-gone from your life.

Then he'll no longer have to worry about the risk of her relaying stories of he and Cassie, or he and Maddy to you. Won't have to worry about his occasional shitty behavior toward them coming to light, driving—no, taking—you away from him.

If you ever find out about the choking incident...it'll be over before it ever begins.

He feels you snuggle the least bit closer to him and he briefly glances to the mirror to the side of both of you. He sees that your eyes are closed and your cheeks are flushed.

Finally, he pulls away and you look up at him, shame filling your features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I-"

He gently grips your chin. "I didn't mind."

"Oh." It's the only reply you have. It feels inappropriate—being here with him like this. You're in a changing room together, for God's sake. You'd tutored numerous people before and never had you ever spent any amount of time with any of them outside of school.

But Nate is different. You tutor him in private, whereas all the rest had been at school or in public. There'd never been a chance at friendship with any of them. You'd convinced yourself that it was something you didn't need in the first place anyway. Told yourself you were better off alone.

High school is temporary, along with the friends that come with it. No point in getting attached to someone who won't be sticking around.

You know all too well about abandonment.

Nate will probably be just like all the rest.

You take a step back. "I should probably change."

"I never got to see the whole dress. Can you turn for me?"

You pause. "Like... Twirl?"

He crosses his arms, just staring at you.

Finally, you begin to slowly turn until you're facing him once again. "Ta-da,"you say nervously.

He turns toward the door, placing his hand over the handle. "It looks really cute on you, just so you know."

While you're busy changing, Nate quickly returns to the rack from earlier, grabbing the same dress you were currently taking off, along with another one, but in light blue. He then spots a pink tennis skirt and grabs it as well, with a matching flowy top. He takes all the items up front, to a register.

When you exit the changing room, you see Nate straight ahead, standing just outside the store.

You come up to him, glancing down to the shopping bag in his hand, then up to him with a concerned impression. Surely he didn't...

He shrugs. "Just something for my mom."

You smile, feeling relieved. "That's very sweet of you, to get something for her."

He just offers you his hand again, which you take after a moment.

As the two of you wander around, mostly window-shopping, you try to ignore just how nice it feels to be holding someone else's hand. To be touched at all. You briefly wonder if he thinks you pathetic now, after what happened in the changing room.

You glance up to him. "Nate?"

"Hm?"

"You're sure it didn't bother you?"

He doesn't need you to elaborate to know what you're referring to. He likes that you're insecure and emotionally fragile. Broken pieces in the palms of his hands.

That had been another issue with Maddy—she'd been too independent, too confident, too secure and comfortable with herself. Whereas Cassie had known what he wanted and had tried to mold herself into it, all in some attempt to keep him interested.

But you? You're clueless to the ways of men. You're just...you. Intelligent, book only in a book-smart sort of way. Sweet—so fucking sweet it makes his teeth ache. Quiet, and reserved—prim and proper and meek.

And he'd thought it before and would again—so. fucking. innocent. You have no idea the power you already have over him. And he wants it to stay that way. Wants to be the one in complete control this time around, without being given permission to be, like Cassie had given him.

She'd told him what she had wanted: him to choose her clothes, what she eats, to decide who she could talk to—the list went on and on. Because she had clocked him from day one—the type of guy he was—that he was desperate for control.

With you, it will be gradual, insidious manipulation until he's all you have left in your life to turn to. Until, one day, you look up, and everything is different and you have no goddamn idea how you've gotten to where you are.

He stops walking, still keeping your hand firmly in his, incase you decide to wander. "Not at all."

"I don't..." you shift nervously. "I don't know what happened. I'm not usually like that. I don't get emotional in front of other people, like, ever."

He gives you a kind smile. "It's ok, really. I just don't think you're used to it."

"What?"

"Kindness. Someone wanting to give you their attention and time. You don't have to worry, I still like hanging out with you."

You look down and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Good," you reply.

The two of you stop in at Sephora, and while you browse their lipglosses, Nate steps away, looking through their selection of blushes, until he finds a soft pink shade that he likes and he takes it up, quickly paying for it, and placing the small bag within the larger Nordstrom one. One more gift for you.

When you leave the cosmetic store, you excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes into the Tiffany store next door, browsing their necklace collection, until he spots one that he deems perfect for you: silver, with a small diamond pendant hanging from it. He doesn't even bother looking at the price tag when he asks an employee to retrieve the item from a glass case and box it up for him.

He's waiting for you when you exit the restroom.

He takes your hand in his, not bothering to let you make the gesture this time.

"Hungry?"

You nod.

Nate, though he doesn't want to, bothers with asking where you'd like to go to eat as he watches you buckle yourself in—wishing you'd let him do that himself, but knows him taking such an extreme measure for your safety this early will do nothing more than freak you out.

You shrug. "I don't go out much, so I'm not sure what all is around here. You can choose, if you'd like?"

He smiles, unsure the last time he felt so happy and in-control as he shuts your door.

Nate takes you to a rather expensive bistro, perhaps twenty minutes away from the mall, his right hand itching to wedge itself between your bare thighs as he drives, but he doesn't dare touch you. Not yet. The only thing he has to keep himself in-check right now is the surety that, soon enough, you'll be all his to do with as he pleases.

Every inch of you.

When Nate comes around to your side of the truck, after he's opened your door, he takes things a step further this time, gripping both of your hips, helping you down. As he sets you on your feet again, before you can say a word, he speaks. "Didn't want to risk you tripping again."

He adjusts your dress and your hair, then takes your hand firmly in his as he leads the two of you inside.

You immediately feel regret in him bringing you here. You should've told him literally anywhere else, so long as it was cheaper.

The rustic décor alone screams pretentious. And you know the menu will be even worse.

But just as you think to tug on his arm and ask him to take you elsewhere, a hostess greets the two of you, leading you to a table in a corner near a window.

Nate pulls out your seat for you, scooting you in, then seating himself.

You both pick up menus, and you're thankful your face is hidden by yours when you see the outrageous pricing.

You can barely afford a small salad here.

"Have you been here before?" You ask, still hidden by your menu.

"Mhm, their food is pretty good. I thought you might like it."

Unless it's dipped in gold, it can't be worth what they're charging is what you want to say. Instead, you remain silent.

Finally, your server arrives. An older woman, with red curly hair, freckles, and a curvaceous figure greets the two of you with a smile. "Do you two know what you'd like to drink?"

Nate looks at you.

"Water, thank you."

She nods.

"It'll be one check, and a diet coke."

She nods again, leaving the two of you to each other.

You look at him, now panicking...just a bit. "You don't have to pay for me. It's fine, really, I-"

He lifts his menu, glad that it apparently works in getting you to be quiet about his spending money on you. Again.

You'd already freaked out enough over him bringing you breakfast for three days in a row, until the fourth when you finally ate in silence.

"I told you I was taking you to dinner. It was my idea to bring you here, so it's only fair that I pay."

You cross your legs at the ankle, unsure how to feel about that.

You simply lift your menu again, now even more unsure of what to get.

He sets his menu down, seeing that you're now hidden behind your own once again. "I know their choices can seem a bit overwhelming the first time you come here. Would you like me to order for you?"

You lower your menu. "You're sure?"

He gives a slight nod of confirmation.

It's then that your waitress returns with your drinks and you stay silent, sipping on ice water as Nate orders dinner for both of you.

As you wait for your penne alla vodka—all you know is that it's some sort of pasta—Nate stretches out his long legs under the table on either side of your chair.

"I've had a really nice time with you today," he says, a soft look in his eyes.

You wrap your sweaty hands around your cold glass. You smile. "Me too."

He crooks his head slightly to the side. "Would you like to go bowling after this?"

Your brows raise. "You want to?"

He nods. "I do if you do."

You glance out the window for a moment. "I'm not sure the last time I went bowling. I think when I was really little."

He leans forward, foot brushing against one of yours completely on purpose, so as to pull your attention back to him. "So is that a yes?"

You blush. "I guess so."

Nate glances up to you every few moments from his steak and rice, watching as you take small bites of your pasta.

"Do you like it?"

You quickly grab your napkin, wiping your lips. You nod, swallowing. "It's really good. You chose well for me. Thank you."

He smiles, his foot "accidentally" brushing against your leg again. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

You grow quiet again at the pet name, taking another bite of your meal.

Once the two of you have finished your dinner, Nate pays the check from his phone before standing, throwing two twenty-dollar bills on the table—you're impressed that he tips so generously—then pulling your chair out for you.

He twines his fingers between yours before leading you back out to the truck.

Once Nate has paid for a game of bowling for the two of you, you both go to your designated spot. You sit to put on the pair of hideous bowling shoes you've been given, until Nate sits on the small table in front of you, grabbing your foot and resting it atop his knee as he slips the shoe on your foot, tying the laces.

You laugh nervously. "I can do that."

He merely glances up to you, before doing the same with your other foot.

Once you feel well and truly like you have on a pair of clown shoes, you go first...and miss every single pin.

Nate stands behind you laughing. "It was a good try."

He'd not actually bothered watching you play, he'd instead watched as you'd bended over slightly, getting a brief flash of your pink panties before you released the heavy bowling ball.

You go to sit down. "Shut up," you say, clearly embarrassed.

Nate goes next...and of course gets a strike on the first try.

You tell yourself not to pout; that you're not a competitive person by nature.

"I'm just rusty is all."

"Mhm," he replies with a knowing smirk before leaning down, hands planted on either side of you. "I'm going to get a drink. Want anything?"

You glance behind you at the concessions, looking over their menu. Meanwhile, Nate looks you over. Your neck, which he wants to lick and kiss and leave hickies all over to mark you as his. Then down your dress at the swell of your breasts...which he wants to do the same to. Then your thighs that he wants to shove his face between.

When you finally look back at him, you jump, seeing that he's still looking right at you. "Oh, uh, maybe just a water?"

He reaches up, brushing some hair out of your face. "Not hungry?"

You shake your head. "I'm still full from dinner."

Right. Dinner.

"I thought at least some cotton candy," he replies, before walking away.

You're left sitting there, wondering what that was supposed to have meant.

When Nate returns, it's with two Budweisers and a bottle of water, which he hands to you.

You stare at the extra bottle he sets on the table as he twists the top off of the other one, taking a swig of it.

"Is that smart?"

He looks at you with a raised brow. "Hm?"

"Drinking...since you're driving?"

He smirks. "It takes a lot more than two beers to get me drunk, Y/N. But if it makes you that uncomfortable, you can always drive us back."

He's not sure how he feels about letting you drive his truck, in truth. He'd never let Maddy, and sure as hell not Cassie behind the wheel. He was more-so offering to see if you'd let on whether you know how to drive or not.

And he gets his answer, just like he was wanting.

"I...I don't know how."

He sits on the same table from earlier, your legs between both of his knees.

"Not at all?"

You shake your head, feeling a bit ashamed of the admittance. "No one has ever exactly been around to teach me."

You're no longer looking at him now, so you don't see the frown on his lips.

"I could teach you."

Your head jerks up. "That's probably not a good idea."

He takes another sip of his beer. "Why not?"

"What if...what if I hit something with your truck, or damage it?"

"I have insurance."

You nearly roll your eyes. "Ok, what if I hit a person?"

He notices your lip twitch, trying to fight a smile.

He grins. "It has a big bed."

You laugh and so does he. God, being with you is so easy.

He holds out the bottle to you. "Do you want a drink?"

You consider it for a moment, then of course shake your head. "No, thank you."

"Have you ever even drank before?"

You don't want to give him the answer to that either. "No."

"Really?" He asks, a bit of surprise to his tone—even if he isn't actually surprised at all. If it's 'bad' for you, he's sure you've never done it before.

You nod, feeling like a total fucking square. "How did they even give it to you in the first place?"

He stands, briefly removing his wallet from his back pocket and he hands you his fake ID.

"Oh."

"I can get you one made, if you want?"

You shake your head, handing it back to him. "I'm ok."

He likes you innocent and unknowing, but he isn't used to someone being so...within the lines. He can't tell whether he wants to corrupt you or not. Perhaps he'll just start with doing so in bed and go from there when the time comes.

Once he has you daydreaming about his cock, he'll move onto bigger targets.

He puts his wallet back away, then jerks his head back toward the bowling alley. "Your turn, sweetheart."

Halfway through the game, you get your first strike and you squeal in delight, causing a smile to breakout across Nate's face.

You jump up and down, then run toward him and he catches you in his arms just in time as you wrap your legs around his waist, only spilling a little of his beer. "I did it!"

He laughs, loving seeing you so fucking happy for just one moment.

"I see that, baby."

You're so pleased with yourself that you barely even catch the new term-of-endearment he's given you.

You look down at him, your hair falling over his face as he looks up at you. "Sorry, that was exciting," you say with a laugh.

One arm firmly holds you up, under you bottom, while the other comes up to cup your cheek. "I like seeing you happy like this. You don't smile nearly enough."

He should really make more of an effort to get you drunk before the two of you leave. He has a feeling you're a happy one, and if he's extra lucky—all the alcohol will go straight between your legs.

You beam at him again, trying to prove him wrong, and all he wants is to kiss you until you can't breathe.

Finally, he lowers you back to your feet and you sit, now excited, as he takes his turn again.

You skip through the parking lot, your hand in his, completely elated at having won.

And to your knowledge, it was fair and square.

Even if Nate knows otherwise.

He'd offered to buy another game, but you'd told him you were starting to get tired, so he'd agreed to take you home, even if he wanted to stay out with you all night. Preferably in the back seat of his truck with your clothes off and lying underneath him as he explores your soft, sensitive body.

Instead, you sit in the passenger seat, all smiles and giggles as he drives you back home.

He's in enough of a good mood himself that he turns up the radio, some song with thumping bass coming through the speakers, as he rolls the windows down, the warm summer night air blowing your hair.

Nate, now actually nervous—afraid he's about to ruin everything—reaches over, resting his palm over your bare knee.

You don't push it away. Instead, you simply glance at it for a moment, feeling something...something you're not sure how to describe at the sight of him touching you like that, and then lean back, content to leave his hand right where it is.

And so he does. The entire drive back to your place.

It doesn't matter how desperately he wants to, he doesn't move it any higher.

Once he's pulled into your driveway, he removes his hand, your leg now feeling cold, and kills the engine. You unbuckle yourself and turn toward him. "I know we said it earlier, but I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you, for dinner and bowling and just...today."

He reaches up, running his fingers through your now-tangled hair. "It was my pleasure. Maybe we can do it again sometime?"

You nod, smiling. "I'd like that."

He wants to lean across the console and kiss you, but once again tells himself no. Something he's quickly tiring of having to do.

He glances out the windshield. "I'll walk you to the door."

He retrieves the Nordstrom bag from the backseat before coming around to your side, holding it behind his back as he offers you his hand to help you down.

Nate walks you to your door, watching as you unlock it. He wishes you'd just come back to his house instead, but doesn't dare suggest as much. He'd rather you sleep in his bed with him than stay in this empty house where you're not safe on your own.

Even if he'd made sure you were a couple night this last week when he parked across the street, a couple houses down, pistol in his glovebox. Just incase.

You look up to him with a shy smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he replies, handing you the shopping bag.

Your brows furrow. "I thought this was for your mom?"

He shrugs. "I lied. I wanted to buy you something all day, but knew if I asked, you'd tell me no. This way was easier."

You're not sure how to feel about the fact he'd lied to you so easily. Had made—most likely, if the brand-name on the bag is any indication—a rather expensive purchase for you. You're just not sure why.

Before you can bother asking, he plants a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Hope you like it," he says before heading back to his truck.

Once you're inside and in your room, you immediately start pulling out the contents from the bag and setting them on your bed. Your heartrate only rises with each item. A small bag from Sephora, another one from Tiffany, and four clothing items from Nordstrom—one being the dress he'd asked you to try on.

You feel lightheaded at the price tags on the clothing. But when you look in the Tiffany bag—pull out the jewelry box and open it, you sit down on the edge of your bed.

A diamond necklace.

"Nate..." you whisper to yourself in a panicked voice, wondering what had gotten into him to think that this is ok.

Surely...surely this item is meant for his mom. He'd just accidently thrown it in with everything else.

You pick up your phone with shaking hands, drop it, then pick it back up once again and call him.

"Hey, everything okay? I'm not too far away. I can turn back arou-"

You shake your head, despite the fact he can't see it. "The...the necklace for your mom, you accidentally put it in with-"

"I didn't get it for my mom. Everything there was purchased for you."

You go quiet suddenly, forcing Nate to check that you're even still on the line. He waits for you to respond.

"Nate, I don't know that I feel comfortable with this."

He slams on the brakes, pulling off to the side of the road, throwing the truck in park. "With what?"

"It...it'd be one thing if you'd bought me some cheap keychain or t-shirt or something. But all of this...do I even want to know how much this necklace costs?"

"Probably not," he replies, nonchalantly. Even if he wants to tell you that it was over a grand.

You hang your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. "You don't need to buy me stuff to try and repay me for tutoring you. I do it for free because I like helping people."

"I didn't do it for that."

"Then why?"

How to say, without alarming you: it makes my dick hard spoiling and spending obscene amounts of money on you?

"I just wanted to give you a few nice things. That's all."

"Nate, I don't-"

"Listen, do you want to repay me?"

You go quiet again. Meanwhile, he wants to say, if you say yes: then do it in sexual favors, starting with letting me wrap you hair around my fist as I face-fuck you.

"How?"

"Enjoy it. Wear the white dress and necklace to school on Monday." He wants to throw in the blush, but doesn't, hoping you'll decide to use that all on your own.

You lay back on your bed. "It's all very nice and pretty, and I appreciate it immensely. But-"

"Do you want me to turn around and come get it?" His tone is now the slightest bit annoyed. "If you don't like it, you can tell me. You're not going to hurt my feelings. I'm sorry, I guess I fucked up."

You feel guilty now somehow. Like you're being ungrateful. Even if you hadn't asked for any of it. Maybe...maybe this is what Nate thinks you have to do to make friends: buy their affection?

When you grow up wealthy like he has, you reason, it makes sense.

"No, I'm sorry." Your voice is soft and gentle and feminine now, and he relaxes, his grip on his phone loosening.

You don't even realize it, but his sudden shift in mood had been so imperceptible that it had scared you.

All you do know is that you somehow feel wrong, but you're not sure how, exactly. So, you just brush it off and blame it on being tired. Blame it on anything but him.

"I'm just...I'm not used to people buying me gifts. It's very sweet of you. Thank you," you say as you lightly run your fingers over the soft material of the white dress he wants you to wear in a couple of days.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

You're not sure how to feel about the pet names, either, but don't want to hurt his feelings again, so you ignore your discomfort.

"I'm going to go take a shower and throw my new clothes in the washer. Be safe driving home. Goodnight...again," you say it with a small laugh.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader) #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x you #euphoria x reader #whew lad look at me exploring my emotional abuse trauma through my writing #i hope this chap doesn't suck‚ i feel like it sucks

[thebestpumkin]

- title - happy birthday, chuuya!

- pairing - chuuya nakahara x reader

- character(s) mentioned - ogai mori

- word count - 566

- summary - celebrating your totally whipped boyfriend's birthday with him.

- tw - i'm pushing my soft chuuya agenda sorry, established relationship, alcohol mention, chuuya gets drunk and passes out, lmk if there are any to add!

- a/n at the bottom!

Chuuya doesn't think he's ever felt quite so normal.

Human, even.

It's a wonder that all it took for him to feel this way is walking hand-in-hand with you, on your way home.

He thinks he likes that word. Home. It rolls off your tongue so easily as you pay the bill - despite his protests - "Let's go home, yeah?" And he's gotten used to it. He thinks he already found his home, in you - as corny as it sounds.

Nevertheless, he's taking you back to his place to celebrate, pressed to your side and babbling on meaninglessly about something or other concerning some new show he saw. And yet you're looking at him with so much love and adoration in your eyes, as if he hung every star up in the sky, as if what he's saying is something worth listening to.

He lets you into his lavish penthouse and watches as you sit down. You sit so comfortably on his couch, as if it was your own, as if this whole place was yours, too. In a way, it is, he thinks. You own his heart, why not everything else he has to his name? He brings out a bottle of wine and two glasses while you turn on the TV.

He's not sure when or how, but he ended up asleep in your arms while you were entirely focused on whatever show you'd put on his flatscreen. He'd likely gotten drunk, he realizes, looking out at the dark sky through his floor-to-ceiling windows. You didn't mind, having had to take care of him when he was off his ass more times than you could count on your fingers. He loved you for that.

He tries to stay up after that, boiling some gas station ramen he had stashed away. He spends the rest of the night slurping noodles with you while you try to catch him up on everything he missed while taking a nap - who knew a show could spring so much information on its audience within a couple episodes?

He keeps stealing glances at you and your attractive face. It's a wonder you've stayed with him, he thinks. A wonder that you love him just as much as he loves you. His breath hitches. You're beautiful. He knows that, already. But, for some reason, seeing your face lit up with the light of the screen and your eyes completely focused on the show he's given up on trying to understand...he leans forward and captures your lips in his. He doesn't know what else to do when you look like that. He loves you, so, so much.

And he spends his birthday that way - and he wouldn't have it any other way. He doesn't care what he does for his next birthday, as long as you're by his side. And, really, that applies to every single day. He couldn't care less if he had mountains of paperwork that Mori assigns to him, as long as you're there to encourage him. He wouldn't mind it if he had to go into a fight, as long as he could come home to you so you could kiss his hurting away. Everything would be okay as long as you were there at his side. He'll spend all his birthdays with you, hoping you'll love him even when he's gray and old, just because...it's you.

pumkin speaks: yeah, okay, i totally didn't write something for inosuke's birthday a few days ago, sue me. BUT i think i deserve a pat on the back for this one. this is that chuuya piece that i said i had the pretty sounding beginning for but no idea where to go from there, iykyk. i finished tokyo revengers btw! oh, and i'm watching wind breaker, too - i'm all caught up w it. and i'm on ep 7 of banana fish due to peer pressure from friends...ps wtf is that show its so...wow. anyway! thats all ive got, i think. sorry for continuing to push the soft chuuya agenda. i just cant imagine him being any other way if he were in love 😕😕 okay that's all. bye, happy scrolling!

likes, reblogs, requests, and feedback are vv appreciated! divider credits go to r0se-designs. thanks for reading, have a nice day!

#pumkin writes #x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Headcanons of Lucifer watching his s/o and Charlie getting along and maybe even having a little musical note together I just know he'd be getting all teary eyed and shit seeing his baby girl having some form of mother figure or someone she can really look to for advice currently present in her life ❤️ Thanks sm hope u have a good day/night!

Absolutely!

I think at first the relationship between Charlie and anyone her dad dates is awkward because she's so nice and trying to be supportive and Lucifer's new s/o would be trying too hard to create that bond. But steadily, you two would find real things you have in common and begin spending time together.

I'm going to use myself for reference here, but I personally really like arts and crafts kind of stuff and am willing to listen to pretty much all genres of music as long as I like the beat/rhythm. So I imagine most of your bonding is done making posters for the hotel, doing crafts with the guests, and just in general vibing to music together.

Like, one suggested activity for the group is coloring because it's a good outlet and it becomes so popular you guys just have a permanent stack of coloring pages and books available with marker, pens, colored pencils, and you, Charlie, Lucifer, and Vaggie are all just coloring and talking, Lucifer's telling embarrassing stories about baby Charlie for you and Vaggie, and you share a few embarrassing stories of yourself to make Charlie feel better and the absolute relief on her face is palpable.

Charlie is nervous because some sinners critiqued her hotel, her appearance, how her dad had to bail her out in the fight against heaven and it's all just making her upset. And of course her dad and her girlfriend are gonna say stuff about how she's beautiful, the hotel is a wonderful idea, and she was so brave in that fight. And like, yeah you're dating her dad and you've been super nice so far, but when you sit down next to her and ask quietly, "Can I offer you some advice?"

"Please? I feel like I don't know what I'm doing."

You laugh, patting her shoulder. "You're young, Charlie, you're not supposed to have it all figured out. But one thing you can do, is decide not to let judgemental pricks get to you. Take every criticism with a grain of salt. Improve, adapt, and filter out bullshit. You can't make everyone happy, and you'll exhaust yourself if you try. So as long as you're happy and at the end of the day you can say you're proud of what you've done, that you tried....well, that should be enough, right?"

Charlie thinks about it and nods. There's a visible shift in her attitude. "Thanks, I needed to hear that....Do you think you could help me read through some of the reviews and stuff? I want to improve if there's any genuine issue that I can address and Dad and Vaggie are....a lot. They just keep trying to tell me everything is perfect."

"They're just trying to hype you up. They love you a lot, so naturally they want you to feel successful and excited. Come on, let's go make some big bowls of ice cream and read through those reviews using silly AI voices. It'll be hilarious."

You and Charlie head off to do just that, talkin and laughing, and neither one of you notices Lucifer absolutely melting into the floor from a few floors up, as he clings to the railing he was leaning against to ease drop. He's gonna need a few minutes to recover. He's crying happy tears. His little girl is grown up and getting along with his partner and they're spending time together and enjoying things together. You're giving her advice and offering her comfort and meeting Charlienat her level and he's just more convinced you're perfect.

He may or may not be ring shopping in the near future. Probably with Ozzie and Bee. They've always had good taste and will probably be thrilled to help him. And if Ozzie is also casually looking for a ring while they're out, well, Lucifer won't say anything.

#fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader

[mybworlds]

Chapter 1: Your perfect life

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.: 2.6k

Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.

Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!

Before to leave, this is a prologue of the main character and her situation, hope you like it...

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

The alarm clock rings and you open your eyes, smiling, "Good morning," you mumble, stretching an arm toward your shoulders, but the cold sheets behind you make you realize that Patrick has been up for a while already. You turn belly-up to the ceiling and think about your next photoshoot and smile. You love your job. You are a photographer and yours is not just a job, it has been a passion since you were a little girl.

You get out of bed and stretch with a whimper, barefoot you walk to the bathroom whose light automatically turns on, you get into your beautiful shower with glass doors and blue and light blue tiles, you shower and then you get out, you wrap yourself in a soft blue towel matching the bathroom walls and then you dry your hair. You put some makeup and then smile at yourself in the mirror with a satisfied air. You choose light-colored jeans, a light-colored T-shirt and your beautiful sneakers as your outfit. You walk out of your bedroom, make your way down the small hallway and down the stairs happy to be living this new day.

"Babe," you call out to your Patrick, but Patrick does not answer, he's usually in his office and works in smart working, but today he is not there, you go to the kitchen and there you find your beloved pancakes and next to it a post-it with a red rose ′In the office, see you later, love you′ you smile "I love you so much too." you whisper sniffing the red rose and smiling with your eyes closed.

You are happy. Your life is perfect, you lack nothing. You have a magnificent multi-accessorised house equipped with a central home automation system, you have a garden with a swimming pool, even a small spa corner. You have a wonderful man like Patrick, he is a lawyer who looks after the interests of small local construction companies and mostly works from home apart from when he has to attend some meetings with contractors; you love him very much, you met him when you were only sixteen and it was love at first sight, you then got engaged when you turned eighteen, you took different paths, but you always supported and loved each other, you never accused each other of anything either of being too absent or too present with each other. Last but not least, you have a job you love, you are a photographer, a good photographer judging by the many positive comments you have on your site and the dozens of requests you have every day, you also had a major contract for a fashion house two years ago and since then the requests have increased, of course you haven't had major contracts like you did then, but things are going well.

You have breakfast, get your house keys, then put on your sunglasses and go out. You could take the car, but today you really want to take a walk and enjoy the sun kissing the streets of New York, you'll take some public transportation and walk around a bit, it's good for you.

You smile, you're happy-- you repeat it to yourself until you convince yourself about it for today, too.

Your smile flickers and disappears when you get on the second bus; no, you are not happy. Patrick is sweet, he is perfect, you respect him and he respects you, but can you consider it love? By now your intimate moments are reduced to once, maximum twice a month and he always comes, you on the other hand pretend, you don't want to hurt his feelings. You masturbate all the time in the hope of mitigating this oppressive feeling of yours, to fill that emptiness you feel more and more deafening. Your home is beautiful, it is a wonderful shell that cradles and pampers you for your every need, but is that enough?

But your life is perfect, it's perfect like this, you don't need to look around or look for anything else to be happy, you tell yourself.

You get to your stop and get off, next to your photo store a cafe has opened a few months ago that makes fantastic donuts, and that morning you don't give up to sweeten your thoughts and soothe your nerves. You walk in and inside there is just the bartender Jake, a young man in his mid-twenties or thirties at most, and in the far corner a gruff-looking man who was hunched over reading maybe something or maybe he's answering an email, you have no idea. The man in the corner looks up, as you suddenly lower your gaze caught out, "Um…" you turn to Jake "good morning, a latte and a Blueberry Donut," you resume keeping your eyes downcast and barely breathing, you don't even know why you're acting this way, you've met dozens of people and exchanged hundreds of glances and now you're acting like a dumb little girl newbie.

"Here, consumption here as usual?" the young man asks you politely.

You shake your head, "No, thank you, I'm busy in the store," you reply, at that moment the man you had seen earlier in the corner flanks you, he is huge, massive, has thick dark curls, an irregular beard and a dark mustache, he is leaning with his forearms on the counter and at that moment he is the one looking at you, he smiles at you as if trying to make contact, you immediately look away staring down clearing your throat in embarrass.

Jake hands you the bag and makes you pay, then you leave without giving the charming stranger a glance. You almost run into your store as if to seek refuge within those four walls. Your heart is pounding in your chest, you feel as if you've gone crazy, but what's wrong with you? You've always been a proper young woman, and now you're acting like a crazy who runs away...

Someone knocks on your door, you turn around "W - who is it?" you ask.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," a voice tells you, "you forgot your cell phone on the counter at the bar."

Are you that far gone? That's great!

You open the door and you are confronted by the handsome mystery man, "Thank you." you reply, reaching out your hand as he hands you the cell phone in the palm of your hand "How did you know I was here?" you ask him doubtfully.

"I saw you fleeing here," he replies with a half-smile, "Everything okay? You seemed to be in a big hurry." he adds.

"Um…that is…I had to make a phone call," he nods "Luckily you found it, my mind is elsewhere since this morning!" you exclaim, smiling at the man with a low stare "Thank you."

"You're welcome!" he retorts "So, you own this beautiful place!" he exclaims again taking a step forward into the club, as you take one step back, he looks at you puzzled "Are you afraid of me?" he asks you.

"No," you reply, shaking your head.

"From the way you talk and the way you move, I'd say yes," he replies again "Take it easy, honey," he adds again.

Honey? How dare he?

"You and I don't know each other at all, sir!" you exclaim trying to regain control of the situation "Please, leave," you add backing away and touching with the back of your thighs the desk.

"It's okay, I'm sorry I scared you," retorts the man with his head down walking away.

You lean totally against the desk breathing deeply and realizing that you made a fool of yourself with that stranger, who knows what he must have thought of you!

The first customers and requests of the day distract you from your moment of commiseration. Luckly, you can easily forget for the moment the incident that happened. You think back about it in the evening, once you get back home, while waiting for Patrick and think that if you meet that guy again, you will have to apologize as you overreacted.

When Patrick comes home, he greets you with a big smile approaching you and taking you in his arms, you let yourself be cradled in his grip closing your eyes and thinking again that maybe with that stranger you had an overreaction since you were overthinking your relationship with your boyfriend. Patrick kisses you softly, he tastes of bourbon and sweetness, he makes you lie gently on the couch kissing your lips first, then your neck and chest still covered, you hear him moaning your name softly, while you try to restrain your thoughts, your doubts about you and him, you still want to not give up so, after all you and Patrick have been together for more than ten years, maybe it's just a little stress…

He, meanwhile, has already undressed himself and undressed you as well, without you even realizing it, he touches you between your legs, but you jerk in discomfort and pain, you are not even wet enough, you look at each other, you look at him almost with reproach, he instead has eyes full of lust, "I got it," he announces lowering his head between your legs and making them bend. Patrick has always been a disaster with oral sex, yes he makes you wet, but he's never known how to touch you in the right places in a way that makes you come, and tonight is no exception.

You are almost glad when he fills you, but not for the obvious reasons as much as for the fact that this way he will stop and embrace you and you can sleep.

It is horrible, you know that. He fills you repeatedly at an ever-increasing pace, you have yes little shivers of pleasure, but nothing that can be called really good or pleasurable, he comes a few moments later inside you. Thank God, you are on the pill to regularize your period!

You think back to when you as a young girl you would have loved to have a child by him, you remember that you wished he had blond hair like him and blue-eyed like him, but your own temper… today you think that if you had a child with Patrick, maybe you would have experienced it as a trap… that's a horrible thought too!

Patrick after intercourse, lays his head on your chest and asks "Did you like it?" and you textbook answer "Yeah, sure." then you feel him give you a kiss at your heart level and he relaxes completely, you can't sleep, you stare at the ceiling. You feel hot and a burning thought spreading inside you, is it true love?

The next day you wake up with a blanket on you and with a cup of coffee on the coffee table, you stretch out putting your feet on the floor and find Patrick's ever-present post-it note, "I'm at Black's company this morning, I'll be back tonight, love you xoxo" and the ever-present red rose next to it, you pick up the rose and smell it, but unlike yesterday you can't say I love you too, you place the red rose on the table with a long sad sigh and pick up the cup of coffee which you start sipping thoughtfully.

Your cell phone rings, it's Daisy "Hey doll!" you greet her smiling and putting her on speakerphone.

"Hi gorgeous, how are you doing? Are you already at work?" she asks you, you hear some buzz in the background so she's already around.

"No, I'm going later today. I have a request for a photoshoot for a wedding at noon," you tell her.

"Did they invite you to the party too?" she asks you.

You get up and take your phone with you continuing to talk as you head to the kitchen, "Well, I guess so, I'm their photographer, I'll have to do a complete shooting." you reply to her washing your coffee cup.

"And how are things going with Patrick?" she asks you again.

"Fine." you answer not too convinced "What's with all these questions? Did we wake up in detective mode this morning?"

Daisy laughs, "But no, silly, I'm just asking. Look, but why don't we plan a double date on Saturday? Me, you, Patrick and Jordan?"

"Fine with me, I want to hear from Patrick though."

"Oh!" you hear her snort "These men are so boring!" she exclaims making you smile.

"I know, but we love them for that too, don't we?"

"Yes…" now she's the one using a not-so-convinced tone of voice "So we'll talk about Saturday later?"

"Oh no, how silly!" you exclaim "Saturday there's the wedding, they're getting married in the morning, but the reception is in the early afternoon and then you know how these things go." you add "Sorry, my head's a bit elsewhere."

"Things always go well with Patrick, aren't they?"

"That's the second time you've asked me about Patrick, but do you know anything? So you make me worry!" you say sitting down at a stool in the kitchen.

"No, I just don't like your tone of voice very much. I mean, when we were kids and you were talking about him your voice would go up three octaves! Now it doesn't sound that way at all!"

"Well, Daisy, we were 17 when I was telling you about him and we weren't together yet, I think it's normal that I felt so much enthusiasm then for someone I were falling in love with! Things then change…"

"You mean for the worse?"

You don't answer right away as you don't know what to answer, Daisy has always been like that, a very observant girl who even by a tone of voice can tell when something is wrong and this morning is no exception.

"My friend, go to that wedding and find yourself a hunk, listen to me! If you have this tone of voice after only ten years…" continues Daisy "may I ask you a very personal question?" she adds again.

"Sure!"

"How are things in bed?" she asks.

"Let's talk closely about that, over the phone you know," you answer evasively.

"All right, then I'll meet you at the gardens in twenty minutes."

After exactly 20 minutes you and Daisy are sitting at the local coffee shop sipping good coffee, Daisy tells you about her latest purchases and fashions as if you then don't know or understand much about them, then Daisy asks you again, "So how are things in bed with Patrick?"

"Let's just say … things aren't going very well, he tries, but I don't like it."

"What? Sex or sex with Patrick?" she asks again.

"Does it matter?"

"Well, I'd say it does!"

You snort, "I dunno…I'm a little uncomfortable talking about it. He tries," you repeat, "but I can never come." you admit, as Daisy almost looks at you with bulging out eyes "Please don't look at me like that I already feel weird enough!" you add feeling really guilty about it.

"No, no, I'm sorry…it's just that I thought things were getting better, you already told me about it a year ago and I thought that in the meantime the situation had been changed in better! I didn't think things would continue to go so bad," she justifies her insistence.

You sigh sadly, "The truth is that every day I tell myself that my life is perfect, that I don't lack anything, that I am healthy, I have a good job, I have a man by my side … however, it is not enough for me, I mean, I would like more, I would like to try something again! I'm fine with Patrick, but by now we've established a flat beautiful routine, he makes me breakfast in the morning leaving me a post-it note with a rose and goes to work, I get up, wash, get dressed, have breakfast, go to work, come back, go to the pool, wait for him and…" you sigh heavily "twice a month we do it, but…" you shake your head "each time I don't feel anything but chills, but I don't feel what I felt the first few times with him."

"Oh my God." she says, shaking her head "Do you at least … I mean, do you touch yourself or not even that?" your friend asks you.

"I have a sex toy hidden in the back of my drawer, I'm ashamed of it, but…" you start to say, but Daisy's laughter and her shaking her head interrupt you "Why are you laughing?"

"At least the sex toy kept you from killing Patrick!" she exclaims.

A giggle escapes you, "Silly,"

Daisy squeezes your hand, "I can't tell you what you should do, but think about it. Seriously think about it, my friend." you curl your lips into a little grimace, "Well, I hope at least something happens at this wedding! I mean, maybe you either find a toy boy or maybe someone really nice to have fun with or maybe still something to shake up this your perfect boring routine." she says spelling the last five words.

"Dummy, I'm going to work, not to hook up," you remind her.

"Well, never say never." she tells you with a mischievous look that makes you smile and shake your head, your friend is just crazy.

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us hbo #joel miller self insert #the last of us #joel fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal as joel miller #smut #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic

[moonxytcn]

Hii, I was wondering if you're comfortable, could you do a fluff/comfort billie eilish x reader please? Reader has anxiety and she like will pick at her lips until they bleed when she gets nervous, or she bites her nails and stuff? ❤️‍🩹💐

horror movie night

Billie Eilish x reader

summary – a horror movie night with Billie

warnings – fluffy

word count – 436.

a/n – hey! thanks for the request, it was a little short but I hope you like it

English is not my first language so there may be some errors

This gif isn't mine, I found it on Pinterest

–––

Your heart raced as you watched the horror movie next to Billie. Your lips were red and swollen from nervously picking at them. Billie noticed and gently held your hand, offering a comforting smile. "It's okay, I'm here," she whispered, and you felt a comforting warmth flood your body, even with the fear from the movie still lingering in the air.

With a relieved sigh, you allowed yourself to relax a bit more in Billie's comforting presence. You nestled further into the couch, feeling the comforting warmth of the blanket over your shoulders. Billie's hand still held yours, conveying safety and support.

As the movie progressed, you occasionally closed your eyes, unable to resist the suspense. With each scare, your grip on Billie's hand tightened, but you felt grateful to have someone by your side to face your fears.

Noticing your increasing distress, Billie leaned in close, whispering words of comfort in your ear. "You're safe with me, there's nothing to fear," she murmured gently. You felt enveloped by Billie's affection, your anxiety gradually diminishing as you focused on the comforting presence of the singer beside you.

As the movie advanced, you began to feel calmer, lulled by Billie's soft voice and the comforting sensation of her hand intertwined with yours. You glanced away from the screen for a moment, meeting Billie's tender eyes, who smiled gently at you.

With a sigh of relief, you allowed yourself to relax completely, setting aside the worries and fears that had been plaguing you. Billie's loving presence was a balm to your restless soul, and you felt deeply grateful to have someone so special by your side.

As the movie reached its terrifying climax, you squeezed Billie's hand firmly, but not out of fear, and smiled at her. "Thank you for being here with me," you said, your soft voice laden with emotion. Billie smiled back, her eyes shining with affection. "I'll always be here for you," she promised, sealing the promise with a sweet kiss on your lips. And in that moment, as the shadows of the movie faded away, you knew that you had found not only comfort, but also love, in the welcoming arms of Billie.

As the credits rolled, you and Billie remained nestled together on the couch, wrapped in each other's warmth. The tension from the movie had dissipated, leaving behind a sense of tranquility in its wake. You leaned your head against Billie's shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

"I'm so glad we watched this together," Billie murmured, her voice soft and soothing.

You nodded in agreement, a small smile gracing your lips. "Me too. I don't think I could have made it through without you."

Billie pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, her touch like a gentle breeze on a warm summer day. "You're stronger than you realize," she whispered. "But I'll always be here to support you, no matter what."

You closed your eyes, basking in the comfort of Billie's embrace. In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and understanding she brought into your life. With Billie by your side, you knew that you could face anything that came your way. And as you snuggled closer to her, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of excitement for the adventures that lay ahead, knowing that together, you were unstoppable.

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish imagine #celebrity imagine #celebrity #wlw #gxg #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x fem!reader

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Rise : Chapter Fifteen

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER SIXTEEN

IMPORTANT NOTE* hey ya'll! just a reminder that my requests are OPEN. please read this POST before making any requests as i have rules in place. there are four spots left (which you will see at the bottom of the linked post). so get your requests in if you're wanting to use me;p

            You taught yourself to not wish for the obvious in the end of times. You stopped wondering what ever happened to your parents, your friends, your neighbors. You quit hoping that someway, somehow, the world would heal itself & you would find yourself & millions of others back to some semblance of a normal life. But most off all, you didn’t dream about waking up from this nightmare. It was real. It was happening. And all you could do was run with it. But what you would spend your time wishing for is that time would move faster.

            The last week dragged by miserably. Though you were glad to have your own secure role in the group, it was oftentimes lonely. Those who scavenged were gone for days at a time, & those who didn’t worked together day-in & day-out. You were the only one who had this small corner of the building to yourself, & others rarely came to visit. One visitor you could always count on though was Rafe.

            Though you were still wary of him, of the truths he told you, you still welcomed his presence. It was your only real human connection in the midst of all the bullshit. But your relationship with Rafe was beginning to bother you.

            It wasn’t until a couple days ago when you were heading to the mess hall to get your lunch that you heard voices talking carelessly about you. The mess hall was large, where people sat to eat at the other end of it, but voices carried, & the voices that day were as clear as glass.

            Your assimilation to the group was being mocked. They welcomed you, at first. But that was only when you were working alongside them. Now, the others were beginning to resent you. You heard as such before entering the mess hall, pausing outside the door to listen.

            “Everyone knows that manning a radio is easy work. Boring, but easy.” One voice began. From what little interaction you had with the others, you thought it to be Enzo.

            “Don’t forget useless.” Another pointed out & the others chuckled at that.

            “Seriously. She doesn’t help at all. Rafe giving her that role was stupid, in my opinion. I mean, he told us when we got here that they were on the radio for days, only hearing recycled announcements. No one else is out there.”

            You frowned at that but you knew it to be true.

            “He just puts her there to keep an eye on her. He’ll bitch at us about pulling our weight but god forbid if he gives his whore a task worth doing.”

            Your heart slammed in your chest at the insult. These people weren’t your friends, but they were supposed to be your community. Now, every smile they gave you felt forced. Every greeting was just a means to keep the peace. They didn’t care about you, they thought so little of you. But perhaps they were right.

            Squaring your shoulders, you entered the mess hall, & the voices quieted instantly. But they played it off well.

            Maddy elongated her neck, spotting you over Enzo’s shoulder, “Hey, _____.”

            You waved a hand but said nothing in return. You gathered some food on your plate & got yourself a cup of water before leaving. You didn’t miss the judgmental scoffs as you did,

            “Guess she’s too good for us now.” They all laughed.

            Back down in the office, you threw your plate onto the desk, some food falling off. You weren’t hungry, but you couldn’t show weakness in front of them. You didn’t need friends. But the thought saddened you. Only a few months ago you had nine of them. But the world took the lives of half of them & the remaining few had little to say to you. Even Bear.

            You thought a lot about Bear. You’d often catch him watching you with a concerned expression. It wasn’t filled with annoyance or resentment like the others. But you rarely had time to speak to him. Rafe was always nearby to interject, send Bear to do a task or find some reason to talk to you. Deep down, you knew Bear was your only friend, but you didn’t know how to get alone with him.

            Downing your glass of water, you picked at your food mindlessly. The other were right though. After doing comms for a week there was nothing out there, no one. At first, you felt it was an important role & were happy to take it. But now, the others & their whispers were getting to you. You pushed your plate further back on the desk, your appetite lost.

            It was midday, the scavengers were expected to return at some point today, as long as everything went according to plan & it usually did. You hoped to sneak some alone time with Bear. And as you thought about it further, Micah, too. Yes, he hated you, that much was clear. His reasoning was ridiculous but you could live with it. However, he was the one who could get you partnered with the scavengers. He had Rafe’s ear. If you got his approval, you didn’t see why it wouldn’t lead to Rafe’s. Scavenging was, after all, a lot more useful than the comms. The others would quit shit talking then.

            You were beginning to doze off in your chair, the sound of white noise acting like a lullaby when it began to cackle & pop. You opened your eyes, confused & staring at the radio. It sounded like when you’re on the phone with someone & they forget to hang up, putting their phone in their pocket. All muffled movement. And then…

            “Come in, hello.” The voice was clear as day before the radio cackled some more, the signal weak.

            You rushed forward, knocking items off the desk in the process. You snatched the walkie connected to the radio.

            “Hello, hello.” You spoke back, your heart pounding. As far as you knew, no one had ever made contact with another on this radio.

            The radio continued to produce only white noise, but just underneath it all, you could make out the muffle of the voice.

            “We—” more white noise.

            “I’m here!” You gasped, grateful to hear others. But with the connection so weak you were fearful you wouldn’t get a location of where they were at.

            “Our connection is weak.” You shared, hoping they could at least hear you better than you them, “Where are you?”

            More muffling. More pops.

            The voice responded but it was too static to make out, the interference strong. You gripped the talkie tighter.

            Then, one word made it through.

            “—of Rockingham.”

            Dropping the walkie, you rolled your chair over to the back wall were a map of North Carolina was pinned, the edges fraying.

            Your eyes rapidly moved over the map. Rockingham. Rockingham.

            There!

            It was 60 miles south of Asheboro, a feasible hour drive. You returned to the desk, your voice frantic with excitement as you spoke into the walkie.

            “Where in Rockingham?”

            The radio only responded with white noise. You asked the question again.

            No. You couldn’t lose them. This was the first sign of life.

            “Hello, I’m losing you.” You shared. But there was no response.

            The radio only returned with it’s usual white noise. You tossed the walkie down in frustration. You had lost them. But it wasn’t all said & done quite yet. Glancing over your shoulder, you eyed Rockingham on the map. The voice had said ‘of Rockingham’. That left a lot to consider. East of Rockingham? West? And if so, how far in either direction? What was their nearest landmark? Or did they mean the Walmart of Rockingham? The precinct? The possibilities were endless. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

            But it was something. The first something any of the group had had in weeks. You wouldn’t be useless. And more so, you could be the one to find them. You only needed to get Micah & Rafe on board.

            Rafe joined you in time for when the scavengers returned. He still wouldn’t trust you alone with them. It aggravated you, but you couldn’t let it show. You needed him to think you were trustworthy.

            As Matt & Robbie passed off boxes & bags of what they found off to Micah & Bear, you & Rafe were in charge of bringing the goods inside. But shortly after you started, Adrianna appeared.

            “Rafe.” She stood in the doorway, her eyes hard, “We need you upstairs. Got a problem.”

            Rafe sighed heavily, “Can it wait? We just got started.”

            “I guess.” She shrugged, “I’ll just tell the others I won’t know how long till the water’s back on.”

            “Shit.” He groaned. It had been a nice surprise to learn that the Mill still had running water. But if they water supply was giving grief, it’d only be a matter of time before a domino effect happened.

            Rafe turned to you, “Keep bringing stuff in, alright?”

            “Yeah, alright.” You nodded. Rafe stepped forward, his hand on your shoulder as he leaned forward to leave a kiss on your temple. You forced a small smile up at him.

            Once Rafe & Adrianna were gone, you went back outside. This was your moment. You had to get Bear alone. You couldn’t trust Rafe with the information about the others. Not yet.

            Micah spotted you first, his expression always one of irritability.

            “Where the fuck is Rafe?”

            You nodded back towards the building, “Had other priorities.”

            “Fuckin’ of course.” Micah mumbled.

            On the ground was a pile of goods. But you wouldn’t be able to carry them all yourself. At the risk of appearing weak, you got Micah’s attention.

            “I’m gonna need help with these.” You gestured to the goods at your feet, “Bear can help me.”

            Micah glared at you, his eyes narrowed. But he ultimately shook his head, “Whatever, just make it fuckin’ fast.”

            Bear stepped away from the other side of Micah, helping you to gather what you could carry. He followed after you as you led him back towards the building. Once you were far enough away, you kept your voice hush.

            “Bear.” You began, “I heard people on the radio.”

            Bear looked at you with wide eyes as he glanced over his shoulder in Micah & the other’s direction.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes!” You whispered excitedly. Inside, you felt safer to speak louder. “They’re in Rockingham. Or near it. I’m not sure. The connection was weak.”

            Bear frowned but nodded. You two took your time putting the goods away.

            “We can go.” You told him, “Find them.”

            But Bear slowly shook his head, “That’s not a good idea.”

            Now, it was your turn to frown, “Why not?”

            Bear sighed, looking you deep in the eyes, “Because Rafe’ll kill them.”

            You returned his stare, “I wasn’t talking about Rafe…”

            It was then that Bear seemed to understand what you were saying.

            “You think we should leave?”

            “Yes.” You nodded, checking the window to make sure Micah & the others were still far away. “You & me, we’ll go. Leave here. Join others.”

            “I’m not against that, but…why?”

            “Because Rafe told me how he runs things. How he’s killed people. And I feel like he’s not telling me the whole truth.”

            “What has he told you?” Bear squinted his eyes.

            “Doesn’t matter. I don’t trust him. And he doesn’t trust us, that much is clear. So, I say we make a run for it. Head to Rockingham, see if we can’t find those on the radio. But if anything, at least were gone from here.”

            Bear leaned against the wall, contemplating your words. He nodded.

            “That’ll be tough, ya know. Getting out of here. Rafe keeps it tight.”

            “But you know how he runs things. I don’t. We’ll work together & get out.”

            He stared hard at the ground, “Are you sure, _____? Because if he finds out what we’re planning, there’s no saying what he’ll do.”

            “I know.” You nodded in agreement, “But I’ll feel safer out there with you then with all of them in here.”

            “Alright.” Bear stepped forward, his arms crossed over his chest, “We’ll do it. But we’ll need a solid plan. No fucking up.”

            “I know.”

            “Hey!” You both jumped as Micah suddenly appeared. His flashed between the two of you. “The fuck is taking so long?”

            “Sorry.” You mumbled.

            “Get back out there.” Micah growled. Bear gave you a look, one that said you two would talk later, before leaving the room. You were about to follow behind him when Micah stepped in your way.

            “What the hell were you two just talking about?”

            You eyed him innocently, shaking your head, “Nothing. Bitching, really.”

            “Yeah? About what?” Micah narrowed his eyes, his favorite look to give you.

            “Just life.” You gave a half-hearted smile.

            Micah leaned forward then, his voice low, “At least you have one.”

            The threatening undertone was there. He leaned back, meeting your eyes, “I’d be grateful.”

            “Of course.” Your voice was barely audible. Micah stared at you for a moment longer before finally stepping to the side to allow you to pass.

            You rushed forward, your heart thrumming inside your ribcage. Back outside you resumed loading goods inside but Micah was keeping a close eye on the two of you. It felt like you were back in school after having gotten caught passing notes in class. You were a bad seed. Micah wanted to rip your roots out.

            You were alone, finishing the final bit of unloading when Bear appeared. It was quick, but to the point.

            “He heard us.” Bear began, referencing Micah, “We leave tonight. Meet me in the back alley. There’s a hole in the wall near the room where Rafe kept me. Don’t bring anything with you, it’ll draw his attention.”

            “What?” There was no plan. It would be too dangerous, “But we—”

            “We go or we suffer.” Bear interjected. He was about to leave, in a hurry to not be spotted by Micah but you grabbed his arm.

            “When tonight?”

            Bear sniffed, “It’s gonna rain. You can see it in the clouds. When you hear the first thunderclap, go. I’ll set a distraction.”

            You nodded. Then he was gone.

            You swallowed a lump that was growing in your throat. This was really happening. You & Bear would be leaving. Your hands shook as you put items from the scavenging away.

            “What’s got you spooked?” You jumped slightly at Rafe’s voice behind you.

            Spinning around, you shook your head, “You were right about Micah.”

            Rafe’s eyes hardened at that, “What’d he do?”

            “Nothing.” You replied breathlessly, “Just scared me is all.”

            It was true, but it would also track if Rafe confronted him. He’d be focused on Micah, not you. And that’s what you needed.

            “What’d he do, _____?” He grabbed your elbow gently, but was firm in making you look at him.

            “Just said I should be grateful I have a life.” You mustered a smile, “See? So, nothing bad.”

            Rafe looked away, his eyes wide with fury, “Go upstairs. You’re done for the day. I’ll talk to Micah.”

            “Okay.” You went to move past him but he was still holding you.

            “I’d never let him hurt you, you know that, right?”

            “I do.”

            Rafe nodded then brought you closer. His mouth found yours, his lips warm. You forced yourself to return the kiss. At least you had him in your favor, & you’d be damned if you didn’t take advantage of it.

            “Go, I’ll see you in a bit.”

            With that, you parted from Rafe & walked away, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before you were released from him for good.

            It was dark out. Heavy clouds rolled in & you sat in anticipation on your shared bed with Rafe. He had been gone for a couple hours. You had yet to see him, or Bear even. Your mind was racing at what was about to unfold. Bear said to wait for the first thunderclap, that he would set a distraction. But what kind? You sincerely hoped that with no planning, you would succeed in getting out.

            About twenty minutes later, Rafe finally appeared. He came into the room looking exhausted. You sat up in bed.

            “You okay?”

            He peered at you, giving you a half-smile before nodding, “Yeah, people are just dumbasses, ya know.”

            “Mmm.” You replied wordlessly.

            He approached you on the bed, crawling up it until he was beside you. You allowed yourself to relax as he brought you into his arms.

            “I talked to Micah.”

            That made your heart stop. If Micah did hear like Bear said so, what would he have told Rafe? You were no friend of Micah’s, he would have no reason to protect you.

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah, told him he better quit with the passive aggressive threats or it’ll be his life he’s gotta worry about.”

            You gulped. You didn’t want Micah dead. But it would be better him than you.

            “What else did he say?”

            Rafe sighed heavily, “Just bitched a lot. Nothing for you to worry about. He’ll come around. One day.”

            You hoped you would be long gone if that day ever came.

            Rafe slipped a hand under your arm, maneuvering you until you were situated atop him, straddling his hips. You didn’t like the positioning.

            His hands rubbed up & down your exposed thighs as he stared up at you. Your own hands were mindlessly placed on his stomach.

            “What?” You huffed out, giving an awkward smile.

            “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” He asked. Shit. Micah did hear something.

            “No.” You frowned, “Why?”

            “Like I told you before, some people want to drive us apart.”

            You needed him to trust you, to believe you would never betray him. If only for a little while longer.

            “They can’t keep us apart.” You told him, feeling brave enough to lean forward, “We belong together, remember? You told me that.”

            You ran your fingers along his jawline before threading them through his hair.

            “Yeah.”

            But he didn’t look entirely convinced. So, you took it one step further.

            Rafe sighed into your mouth as you kissed him, his hands gripping your thighs. You opened your eyes enough to see that his were closed. He was licked & nipped at your lips, hoping for entrance. You obliged. As his tongue massaged your own, you were suddenly flipped onto your back. Rafe grinded his hips into yours & a pulse shot up your spine.

            It felt wrong. All of it. You unlatched your mouth from his but he continued to kiss your jaw, neck, & shoulder as his hands slipped under your oversized t-shirt. You fluttered your eyes closed, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Rafe would view it as euphoria coming over you, but it was dread.

            He leaned upwards to rip of his own t-shirt before returning his body to yours. He cupped your cheek, making you look at him before he returned to kissing you. Bile rose in your throat but you forced yourself to keep it down.

            Rafe’s hands found the underside of your breasts, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin there. You gasped into the kiss, feeling him smile against your lips. He dragged his hips against yours, his evident arousal hitting your center nearly perfectly. You moaned reluctantly. But he took it as a means to go further.

            Before you could resist, Rafe lifted your top, removing it effectively from your body. You instinctively covered your exposed breasts but Rafe frowned, gently grabbing your wrists, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

            Your mind was racing, desperately searching for the memories that would back up his claims. But nothing turned up. Rafe kissed down your neck to the valley between your breasts. Your skin erupted with goosebumps as his mouth hovered over a pert nipple. When his tongue grazed over it, your body pushed up into his touch.

            “God, I’ve missed this.” He shared breathlessly.

            Words failed you, but your body was beginning to respond to his touch. His other hand reached below graze the edge of your underwear.

            No. No, no, no.

            Tears pricked your eyes. Please.

            A clap thunder boomed above, practically shaking the building. You yelped from the loud sound & Rafe’s teeth accidentally nipping your sensitive flesh.

            “Shh, calm down.” Rafe grinned, “It’s only a storm.”

            It was more than that, though. It was your time to go.

            “Rafe.” You pushed backwards, out of his arms, resting against the wall, “I’m not ready.”

            “What?” His hooded, heated gaze shifted into one of frustration, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

            “I’m sorry. It’s not gonna happen overnight.”

            “It’s been more than a night, it’s been a goddamn week!” He raised his voice, making you jump more than the thunder had.

            You stared at him wide-eyed, “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t what else to say.”

            “You don’t have to say anything.” He growled, shaking his head, “You don’t have to do anything. I can do all the work.”

            “What?” The fuck was he getting at?

            Rafe harshly gripped your ankle, dragging you back down the bed, “Nothing I haven’t done already.”

            “Rafe, no!” But he wasn’t listening. He was quick to snatch both your wrists in one hand, holding them above your head as his other hand reached for the button on his jeans.

            You shook violently beneath, trying to throw him off you with your hips but he was bigger than you, stronger, & quite literally, had the upper hand.

            “After everything I’ve done for you!” Rafe hollered as he moved to rip your underwear off, “This is the least you can do for me.”

            A cry tore from your throat as you lied bare before Rafe, your imprisoner.

            But just as he was shoving his jeans down his thighs, a sudden boom sounded, shaking the building. But this wasn’t thunder.

            “What the fuck was that?” Rafe mindlessly let go of your wrists, listening as you both heard panicked screams in the distance.

            “Rafe!” It was Adrianna in the hallway. “Rafe, hurry!”

            “Fuck!” He shouted, shoving himself off the bed, “Fuck, fuck!”

            Hurriedly dressing, Rafe had seemingly forgotten about you on the bed. You took the opportunity to search desperately for your clothes. You managed to get your underwear & t-shirt back on before Rafe focused his attention on you again.

            “You.” He pointed, “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

            You said nothing, your body shaking after what he was just about to do to you.

            “And when I come back,” He approached you, snatching your chin in his hand, “I’ll finish what you started.”

            Tears skipped down your cheeks, your chin quaking in his hold. You ripped your head away from him, but nodded. He didn’t need to know that you wouldn’t be here when he returned.

            Adrianna burst into the room then, her eyes briefly flashing to yours, taking in your state of dress before frowning slightly. Then she looked at Rafe, “There’s a fire out front, I think someone exploded your truck.”

            “Goddamnit! Let’s go.” Tossing you a look of warning, Rafe finally disappeared with Adrianna, the door slamming shut behind him. But then you heard the grinding pop of metal.

            Did he…?

            Racing forward, you tugged on the door. It wouldn’t budge.

            “No!” You banged on the door, pulling uselessly on it, hoping it would give. But it was locked securely.

            “Fuck.” You breathed out. Running to the dresser, you quickly slipped into a pair of jeans before throwing a pair of boots on. You grabbed a jacket folded over the back of a chair & slung an empty backpack over your arms. You couldn’t just sit here & wait. You still had to try.

            Another clap of thunder boomed above followed by the sound of heavy rain pelting against the windows. Rushing to windows, you cranked one open, the metal rusting as you did. You groaned painfully as you mustered all your strength to get it all the way open. Rain pelted you in the face, quickly soaking your hair as you leaned out. Rafe’s room faced the back alley where Bear would be.

            Leaning out, your looked up & down the alley but it was difficult to make anything out. It was too dark, rain was getting in your eyes, your hair was whipping you in the face.

            “Bear!” You screamed but you knew it wouldn’t carry against the rage of the storm.

            But then, at the mouth of the alleyway, you saw a figure. Bear. He was too far away to hear you.

            “Fuck, Bear!” You yelled again, but no luck. He wasn’t even looking in your direction.

            Panicking, you begun to look for anything outside the window you could use to scale down on. But there was nothing, no piping, no grips in the brick that would make getting down easier, no fire escape. Besides, in the chaos of the storm you’d likely fall anyway. But perhaps that’s what you had to do to get away.

            You peered down in the dark. It was only two stories. But it wasn’t the typical two stories. The walls were taller here. You’d at least have to jump two & a half to get down. But you had to. Without giving yourself to think on it, you gripped the center of the window, carefully leveraging yourself to swing your legs out.

            “Bear!” You screamed once more, hoping he would hear you. But as you peered through the darkness you watched as he took off around the corner. Away from the mill. He had waited for you. He couldn’t wait any longer, Rafe & the others would find him & kill him. You had to be quick if you were going to catch up to him.

            Breathing fast, you felt yourself stiffen, you needed to jump. Now! Before Rafe came back, before Bear was in the wind. Jump, _____! Jump! NOW!

            A scream ripped from your throat as you launched yourself out the window. The ground came fast, too fast, & you hit it, landing on your feet, but your ankles gave out & you collapsed to the ground.

            “Ahh, fuuuuck!” You screeched, reaching down to hold your ankles. They were pulsing. But you had to go. Heaving yourself up, you tested your ankles. They were sore, tender, likely having twisted them, but you couldn’t let that stop you. Limping, you began to move as fast as you could toward the end of the alley where you had last seen Bear.

            Please, don’t be far.

            You continued hobbling, desperate to get as far away as possible before Rafe discovered you were gone. You had just made it to the mouth of the alleyway, looking in the direction that Bear took off it. It was towards the woods. You had to get there fast.

            But just as you started limping in that direction, voices sounded behind you. The loudest was Micah’s. And it was growing closer. There was a few dumpsters to your left & you were quick to dive in between them, desperately hoping that the darkness would shield you from murderous intent.

            You tugged your legs to your chest, pressing yourself as much as you could against the brick. Micah’s voice was getting closer. Another voice joined his. Rafe’s.

            The storm continued to boom & flash & whip about, making it difficult for you to hear as their footfalls grew closer. And by the time you could, it was already too late.

            A bright light blinded you, forcing you to whine as you shieled your eyes from the flashlight.

            An impressed whistle came from behind the flashlight, “Well, look what I found.”

            The flashlight lowered & Micah stood before you, a deadly grin on his face.

            “I told you, man. Her & Bear were up to no good.”

            Rafe appeared then as he spotted you. The heavy rain had his hair stuck to his forehead. Another clap of thunder sounded followed by a bolt of lightning that lit up the alleyway. In that brief moment, you saw the look in Rafe’s eyes. And the wrath you saw there rivaled the storm.

            This was it for you. That much you accepted quickly. But you hoped Bear got away. But hope, as you knew, was a silly thing to cling to.

alright, the second to last plot turn Rise will take before finishing strong.

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beau<3

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#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #non con fic #dark!outer banks #rise chapter fifteen

[haikyu-mp4]

hi omg i love your works sm !! each one is so cute and i love your dialogue for the characters 🫶 i've read most of them but i'll be going back to reread and reblog them bcos u deserve the love 🤍

i wanted 2 ask if ur requests were open ? it's okay if they aren't ofc !! but i had this idea earlier about dentist / orthodontist iwaizumi or oikawa ! and i've been looking thru the hq writers that i've reblogged from n u came up ! the idea is pretty broad but i was thinking more of a build up from patient-dentist (?) to lovers, smth like that ! idk if ure up for it then do ur magic but otherwise i hope u have a great day and i'm looking forward to reading more from u 💞💞💞

Unusual affection

thank you so much for your love!! I never wrote much AU before so this was such a fun idea and I hope I did it justice<3

word count; 1353 – gn!reader, dentist Oikawa AU, patient-dentist to lovers, suggestive

You're not so fond of going to the dentist. Luckily, your teeth didn’t give you many problems growing up, but your parents were urging you to get a check-up appointment after you moved away to a new city. Better to establish a dentist before the issues come up, they would say.

So you did, you made an appointment with dentist Oikawa Tooru and made your way to his office a few weeks later. His waiting list wasn’t exactly short. Not that you had to wonder why for long because…

that is one gorgeous man!

“You need to floss more regularly,” he added as if it just came naturally for him, which it probably did. You lay on the seat as he looked over all the basic stuff, rinsing and picking at your teeth. Unfortunately, you couldn’t see yourself attracting him very much with your mouth wide open and lips scrubbed dry already, so you just accepted your fate.

“I’m not really a dancer but I’ll try,” Oikawa stopped what he was doing and the swivel chair he sat on slowly turned towards you. That’s like something Makki would say, he thought. And that’s not a compliment.

“How old are you, 10?” he asked but quickly cleared his throat when the secretary seemed to eye him from her desk. She always said he shouldn’t have an attitude with customers.

“Some would say I’m a 10 out of 10!” you responded, joyfully watching as his patience wore thin. Oh, how fun to find cracks in that perfect exterior.

He sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the monitor. You started looking at the ceiling, counting the dots and lines in the ugly pattern until you lost count and started over. Is that a headache creeping up on you?

Finally, Oikawa rolled back over. You blinked a couple of times to shake off the view of the ceiling and actually focus on him. “Open.” Wouldn’t mind hearing him command you like that in another setting, you thought, suddenly avoiding eye contact again but still doing as he said. Dentists are not supposed to be this attractive. “Your wisdom teeth on this side, do they hurt?” he asked, pointing to the cheek he was referring to.

You thought about it, humming in thought. “Yes, especially after eating. Lots of food gets stuck in there too.”

“We can set up another appointment to get them removed,” he informed you. “It should be mostly covered by insurance if I say it’s necessary.”

You nodded, licking your lips as they felt so dry from his gloved hands running over them. “Will…” he was about to stand up but stopped for a moment to listen to you. “…you be doing that?”

A small humorous sound left his lips, and it sounded so melodic you were in a trance. “That could be arranged.”

Two weeks later, you’re back at the reception of your dentist's office, asking for Oikawa. You agreed to do the procedure with a local sedative, as you didn’t have that many close friends in this city yet that could pick you up, so two assistants were currently making sure you wouldn’t feel anything around your mouth for the next hours. Unfortunately, this called for you to stay quiet, and you were honestly just excited to see Dr. Hottie again.

Your prayers were answered, and after they left you to soak in the numb feeling in your mouth for about ten minutes, Oikawa walked through the door. “Hey there, little dancer.” he greeted you.

“Hi!” you cooed, but it sounded odd when you couldn’t feel your lips. You frowned, trying to look down at your lips for a moment before giving up. Oikawa clicked his tongue from where he watched you, shaking his head before putting gloves on. Everything he did seemed so elegant, but you had a sense there was a dorky side to him.

“It might hurt a bit, but just tap me if you need me to adjust, okay?” he informed you, looking into your eyes for an answer.

You nodded, sucking in a quick breath. His eyes were pretty. Swirly, like chocolate ice cream. “Yes, I got it.” You bit your top lip, sheepishly continuing. “My safeword is toothbrush.”

Oikawa seemed to chuckle under his breath, he hesitated to humour you but still gave in. “Good to know. I was half expecting a stupid joke about tap dancing.” he hummed before picking up the first tool he needed and swiftly getting to it. It wasn’t very fortunate, to have him stare at your face as your cheeks flushed red, but it was worth witnessing the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

The procedure didn’t take too long. He struggled with the lower tooth, so an assistant came in to help him and the two conversed like you weren’t even there. When it was finally done, Oikawa pressed a button so you were adjusted into a seated position. You let your lips run frantically over your chapped lips, reaching for the small cup of water he provided you. And had you not been busy with the aftermath of the procedure, you would have noticed the way he watched you for a moment too long before getting up and throwing away his gloves.

Oikawa knew it was inappropriate. His breath shouldn’t have stuttered when he saw you in the waiting room for the check-up, he shouldn’t have sent you a small wave before calling your name to let you know he was ready for you, and he shouldn’t have put his hand on your back while leading you to his station. He just found you entertaining, that’s what he told himself, but he definitely looked off his game when you finally sat down for him to check the stitches from the procedure.

“Everything alright there, doc?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Oikawa waved his hand as if it was nothing, laughing under his breath.

“No worries, I was just-” he pursed his lips before pointing at you with the little tool in his hand. “Do you like pasta?”

Your jaw loosened in disbelief. “Pasta? I guess I do, is that bad for my teeth or something?” you asked a bit awkwardly.

“There’s this new Italian restaurant down the street. You should go there,” he said. “With me, I mean.”

Oikawa’s penthouse apartment was pretty nice, so you two basically spent most of your time there after a couple of dates led to stumbling through your front door with your lips locked together. He had complained about the small bed and creaking floor of your apartment, which led him to take you home to his place the morning after.

Now you were sitting on the marble countertop in the bathroom with Oikawa standing between your legs, and it was similar to something you had dreamed up before when imagining life with a boyfriend. The difference was, you weren’t kissing or anything like that. No, your mouth was wide open as your handsome boyfriend checked your teeth before bed after you brushed them. “This is a bit unusual, don’t you think?” you managed to say, making him pout as you accidentally left a small bite on his pointer finger.

“You’re a bit unusual, but here we are,” he mumbled, but still hummed in appreciation at what he observed. “I knew the electric toothbrush would help.”

Finally, he leaned an arm on each side of you on the counter so you could have a kiss, which you’d say was a much better reward for being good at the dentist than the ones you would get when you were younger. “You truly are a genius, Tooru.” you cooed sarcastically. He kissed you again and hummed, savouring the aftertaste of your toothpaste. The expensive kind.

“Maybe I’m such a good dentist that my kisses clean your teeth,” he said, and it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be charming. It was cheesy, made no sense and created some disturbing mental images. But you savoured it nonetheless, accepting every kiss he gave you and returning it with the same sweetness.

Luckily, this dental nerd is all yours.

masterlist

#ask-mp4 #hq #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x you #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa toru #oikawa

[jujutsukgojo]

My gifts to you

feitan portor x reader

Summary: You knew him for years for only moments at a time. Yet, you take it upon yourself to love and mourn him anyway, even when the world won't. tw: light smut, slight yandere feitan, spoilers, mentions of murder, light angst, fluff(?), injuries, cheating, time skips an: didn't mean for it to be this long. Feitan is a bit tricky for me but oh well :) kind of inspired by criminal minds 'no way out'. 10.8k

“If you tie it like this, it should stay, okay?” You tap the boy’s foot. Although he is smaller than you in height, his feet are bigger. It’s quite comical but you don’t dare laugh. In this blasted city, you’d be bound to die for such a thing. Especially if you laugh at someone with crazy hair and carries a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.  

  He says something in a foreign language that you can’t understand. If you are correct, it may be inverted Japanese. In the books that one kid collects, there is a country, Japan, where the common language originates. Since the common language isn’t his mother tongue, it makes you wonder where he’s from and why he’s here. 

  The boy stands up to his full, but short, height. You sit on random rubble and look up at him, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he call over Phinks or even bring Uvogin? He hangs out with Phinks mainly but who knows these days. 

   Instead of swinging the bat at you or calling over his friends, he pats your head awkwardly. You don’t make any sudden movements or noises. The boy leaves right after. A sigh escapes your lips after he leaves you behind.  

   What's his name again? Feitain? 

__________

  In your hut, you slightly stir the food that sizzles in the pan you found. It’s rare to come across tomatoes and eggs but you managed this time. The smell is mouth watering. You hope no one else can smell it. 

As much as you want to live elsewhere, this is what you settle for at the moment. In another world, you’d be out of this city and somewhere clean and safe. Like the church or something. No, even better than the church. You’ve heard of the outside where there are bright flashing lights and diamonds and pearls on people’s necks. There are flowers of all colors out there. Different shapes, smells, and meanings, they’re all beautiful. You hear that food isn’t scavenged but bought or given to people without a price.  

   People said they’ve seen the safety of children your age that play without a care. There are parents for the lost kids and doctors for the injured. Clean clothes and showers on the regular. You can even see the sun clearly and the big, round moon that doesn't bring out the wolves in men. 

There are pastors and priests that don’t turn people away, either. Hell, you have even wondered if there were schools there that allow everyone to get in. You're sure that you are reading and doing math wrong. How embarrassing.  

Finally done, you place the food on a plastic plate you found. You made sure to wipe the grime off the plate and rinsed it with clean water before using it. Even though you can just eat out of the pan, you want to seem sophisticated like the outside. They don't eat out of pans or use dirty plates. 

  The food steams and is welcoming. Without a lot of utensils, you pick at it with your hands. It burns at first but you’re too hungry. The flavor bursts in your mouth. Even without the proper seasonings, it’s still heaven. You haven’t eaten in a while so you’ll take what you can get.  

   Suddenly, the boy, Feitan, enters your hut. You gasp and protectively cover your food. He brings his foot out. His shoe, which he stole, is untied again. You swallow the substance and point out, “I taught you how to tie them.” 

“Tie.” 

“I taught you.” You set your plate down.  

“Tie.” You roll your eyes and pat your thighs. He walks over to you and places his dirt caked shoe on your lap. Slowly, you tie them.  

“There, see? Come on now, you need to learn. A little boy can’t grow without tying his shoes.” 

“I’m not little boy.” You give a breathy chuckle. “Of course you are, honey.” 

  He leans in close to your face. “I’m older than you.”  

...He does hang out with Phinks, who is a couple years older than you. In fact, it is rare to see them apart. Is it possible that it’s true? Is Phinks the type to be friends with someone who is younger?

 Curious, you ask, “Then why are you so short?” His eyes widened in shock. Then, strangely, he laughs while patting your head harshly. Studying his face revealed what looks like the beginning of a sinister smile.

  He looks at your plate and sits down in front of you. You’re both on the dirt floor. 

 “Give me.” You scoff and snap at him. “No! Find your own!” 

The little beast decided that the two of you should ‘share’. He smacks on his food, making you want to punch him repeatedly. He’s gaunt and bony, but not really bad like last time. His face has a tiny bit of roundness to it. 

  “Stop staring.” He inhales a tomato. “You look better than last time.”

“Better?” He cocks his head to the side. The remnants of the tomato smeared a little on his cheek.

“Yeah, healthier.” He stares at you for a second. “Thanks.” His accent is thick, and you still can’t place it. Nevertheless, you understand. Afterwards, much to your surprise, he sleeps in your hut now that his belly is full. Satisfied and strangely not afraid, you follow suit. It’s nice to have a friend, however strange.

You are barely awake, sleep still heavy in your eyes, when you see him pop up. Drool is crusted on his cheek, and he rubs his eyes. He yawns and then spots you next to him. Feitan eyes the entry of the hut then back at you. He puts the only cover you have on you then pets your head. 

  Before he leaves, he places his bat in your hand. Feitan secures the entry as he exits the hut. 

_____________

  It’s been years since you and Feitan have talked. You've gotten familiar with him but when Sarasa had died in such a disrespectful and gruesome way, he withdrew. In the meantime, you waited for him and studied a power you discovered. No matter the eyes that were always on you, you didn’t care about the mysterious and hidden audience. 

  You don’t know what it’s called but it started when you witnessed some kid about to get her ass handed to her by some thugs. The man had moved a pair of scissors without using his hands. They aimed right towards her and in a moment of instinct, you rushed to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, the scissors stabbed you in the shoulder.  

  It was then did you feel the rush of a force so strong, that it knocked everyone away from you. A faint white light that glowed from your skin that only your eyes could see. As you looked around in shock, you saw that same glow coming from that man and his friends. 

  You were gasping when you fell to your knees. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be here!” The girl your age ran for her life and left you behind. In a moment of fear, you call out to her to help you. You were so afraid; you couldn't tell if the screams were hers or yours. Given the situation, you were too rattled, terrified and hurt, to focus.

The men shook for a second then got up to face you. The blood from your shoulder wasn’t stopping its flow. Crimson red stained your clothes and the ground. It was all so strange, such an unusual feeling of adrenaline that you couldn’t help but memorize. Almost as if the world had finally made sense. Every single thing became so much clearer to your dismay.  

  The men came towards you with malicious intent. While putting pressure on your injury, you managed to kick one of their legs, causing them to buckle and hurt his knee. He screamed in agony. 

  “G-get away!” You try to stand. The press of your hand on the wound isn’t helping. Is it supposed to bleed this much? It hit your shoulder, but did it nick something?  

  You need to stop it, to heal and get away from them. In this city, people like you are in danger from men like them. If you don’t get away, you’ll end up like Sarasa. She was never really close to you. She was a nice girl who always looked for video tapes, so you'd help her from time to time. Yet, her death scarred everyone since it was so close to home. And now, you no doubt are facing the exact same situation. Wrong place, wrong time.  

   Same fate.  

You fell back on the ground and looked at the sky. It has always been so dirty, just like the city due to pollution. Still so young, you know you won’t see what it really looks like. In the corner of your eye, you spot something green. A small clover with four leaves. 

  One time, an old man told a story of how four-leaf clovers are a sign of good luck. By the intense feeling and pressure of your eyes, you know it’s not true. Pain in all ways makes tears fall from your eyes. Lips wobbling at how unfair everything is and that you will never see the sun. The outside must really be heaven, and for someone so young who hasn’t committed a sin, you are wondering if you can go.

  Suddenly, flowers that you never knew blossomed around you. The soft petals touched your filthy skin and got rid of the aches. The blood on your shoulder faded from view as well as the pain. A soft and beautiful hum whispered in your ear. You truly believed it to be in your head, an imagination of paradise as you leave. Heaven, they call it. You must be close to the outside world then. 

  This must be it, you thought. There was no pain from a strike or fear. Just closed eyes and peace. Something you know you couldn’t get in the atrocious city.  

It ends. You were shocked as the beautiful flowers disappeared. Heaven, would you reject someone? 

  The men didn’t hurt you. The one whose knee was broken was able to move his leg. His red hair kind of glowed in the sun, and brown eyes were wide. He muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and walked away without a limp. His friends followed.  

   After that, you had realized that your ability wasn’t anything like scissors or something scary. It was to heal and be healed.

Although after immediately learning this, you didn't go out of your way to find the source of the screams in the direction the people went. First was the girl, then the group of men. After what you went through, it didn't seem like a good idea. 

 Feitan, somehow, got wind of it. Now in his later teen years you both estimate, he sits still and points to his arm. There’s a gnarly gash oozing blood. You wonder how he’s not feeling this and if he is, how he isn’t even fazed.  

  You gently pick up his arm and inspect it. He's thin but has clear definition in his arms. You haven’t seen him in so long that you are surprised by his growth. Hell, he’s taller now. Still short, but at least he grew.  

  In a jar, you take a premade petal. This is a way for you to save energy and reach people when you physically can’t tend to. Acting as a pill, you make sure that people can get infections out. For some reason, illnesses and infections are particularly tricky and tiring for you.  

  “Eat this, Feitan.” He frowns. “No.” You sigh. “It’s infected. You need to eat this so I can heal it right.” 

  “It’s not.”   

Rolling your eyes you bring his wound to his face. “This, this is infected. It's literally oozing pus.” How long did this go on? Was he really that hesitant to just come and see you?

  He growls and takes the delicate petal and places it in his mouth. “Stop pouting.”  

“Not pouting. It’s nasty.” He’s not wrong. It has a bitter taste and when chewed, a slimy texture. The color of the disintegrating petal leaves a stain in the mouth as well. If not for the benefits, no one would even bother. They'd be just as offended as Feitan.  

  The pus stops and clears up. “Alright, this’ll leave a scar.”  

You blow on your hand so that flowing blossoms surround him. Beautiful shades of pink and white go through his hair. With a gentle caress, you see the flurries touch his wound. It starts to encourage his own healing.  

  As much as you want to do the full thing, you’re tired. All day you’ve been working and collecting payments. Not to mention facing the disappointment of them being useless. You want to kick yourself for not getting paid first. But the sight of those grateful people and healed kids softens your heart.  

  Soon, it stops once the injury becomes manageable. You’re about to wrap it when a hand stops you. “What’s this?”  

  “Feitan, I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time.” You try to move your hand but he stops you. He's a lot stronger than you remember. “Heal.” 

His fluency isn’t the greatest still.  

“I’m tired! Just let it heal the rest of the way.” No matter how much you try to yank your hand away, his grip is too strong. “Please, Feitan...”  

  Surprisingly, he lets go and from what you can see, the subtle white glow appears and heals him the rest of the way, leaving small flames. “Feitan...what was that?” 

  He rolls his eyes and plops down on a chair. He says nothing and just relaxes, or at least that’s what he’s trying to make it seem like. It has been a while since you’ve seen him, but that doesn’t make you blind to his behaviors…sometimes. 

   “As a transmuter, I can heal a little by using enhancer,” He looks at you suspiciously. “You know nothing about nen?”

“Nen?” You put the gauze and other items in a black bag. It was found in the safe zone by the church. Apparently, it belonged to a doctor from the outside. The bag had all kinds of necessities. Gauze, medicine, some syringes, disinfectant, a thermometer, all kinds of stuff that you’ve had to use sparingly. What you save in the bag, you make up for with your ability. 

  He smacks his lips and calls you a ‘dumb brat’. “You use nen but don’t know it?”

Sighing, you ask, “What is nen, Feitan?” 

“What you do. Use your aura and stuff.” His arms are crossed, and he looks at you expectantly. You gather that he likes knowing things you don’t. It’s like a weak power trip. 

  But it is nice to finally have a name and explanation for it. And that’s what he did this time. Visiting you for a moment just to pick with you while teaching you something you should have known. 

“Wait, if you could do that, why’d you come here?” He just shrugs.

------

When you see him again, he brings his friends along. You immediately recognize some of them. Phinks, who ran with Feitan, the boy who always collected books, and Uvogin, the giant who was always claiming territory and beating people up. 

  Feitan should be twenty now. It’s hard to tell since he looks youthful. He points to his friend, the boy with the books, and orders, “Heal.”

“You can do it, Feitan, remember?” You were in the middle of cleaning when he and the rest of his posse pop up. They look flustered and a little worse for wear. 

  “Heal.” He always does crap like this. You roll your eyes at first. The body they carry tugs on your strings a bit. 

“Fine. Put him on the table.” Thankfully, it’s cleaned, and a new wrapping has been placed on it. Gently, the man is put on it. You spot the cross tattoo on his forehead. Ah, that’s where Feitan has been. Lately, there’s been whispers of the Phantom Troupe. Merciless killers and thieves from Meteor City that have been gaining respect over the years. Your opinion of them isn’t the greatest but it also isn’t the worst. You appreciate them for standing up for Meteor City, but their methods are questionable.

   You sigh and begin to undress the boy with the cross. “Is that necessary?” 

You continue to pull off his clothes, not bothering to answer the question the girl asked. If she can’t understand why you need to remove his clothes, then that’s on her. She scoffs after another female voice answers her question. 

  You finally see his wound. Feitan can heal himself to a degree, but you don’t think this guy can. The gash is deep and sewed with makeshift stitches. There’s no nen involved, surprisingly. Given that Feitan is an avid user, you thought his friends would be keen on it too. 

“He’s a specialist. Enhancer techniques are harder for him.” Phinks spoke. He must've understood your confusion. 

“And the stitches?” You gently investigate the area. It’s an angry red around it and, like you suspected, infected. It wasn’t properly taken care of. You begin to remove the stitches. You wonder what the thread is made of and how long this has been going on. 

“He,” Phinks points to Uvogin. “And him,” He then points to another large man with long ears. “Thought they could do it. Normally, Machi heals us but they were away from her. Her stitches would have helped him but not any infections.”

  “Ah, well this requires more than I thought.” You touch the ground and out comes a beautiful swirl of flowers. Underneath the moving petals is a blooming sunflower. It picks the guy up so he rests on it. The bed of the flower glows softly and becomes warm. His once wincing face is now peaceful. His injury is slowly closing and the red is beginning to turn pink. 

“The downside of this is that it takes a while. It’ll be all healed up in about an hour or so.”

“ An hour?” Uvogin, who has abandoned his afro and traded it for long standing hair. “Feitan, I thought you said she was good? We could’ve gone to that one guy and got it done right then and there.”

“She’s the best. Wait.” His hands are in his pockets and he moves. Feitan looks around and touches whatever he pleases. You try not to focus on his compliment. You wonder if the reason he moved from your line of sight is because he got embarrassed. If so, you won’t tease him. The Troupe are killers, afterall. 

   You start to feel the weight of your nen. This technique requires more effort than the others. Feitan explained it to you but you never did get the hang of it. You just know what to do instinctively. You were proud that you could do any of this without a teacher.

 What you’re sure of is that this man, whatever his name is, is giving you a crap ton of money after this or there’ll be hell to pay. 

   You feel something tickling the side of your face. The wrapper is red and unopened. You take the energy bard gratefully. “Thank you, Feitan.”

A couple of the Troupe members complain about the time. Machi or Mochi or whatever, the pink haired one, especially complains and criticizes for some reason. You have never seen this person before in your life yet here she is pouting. 

  “You okay?” You see the blond boy with big blue eyes study you closely. He moves closer to your face. A smile never leaves his face. Before you can answer, Feitan, who hasn’t left your side since you ate the bar, answers for you. 

“She’s fine. I’m watching her.”

You hear a couple of snickers. Feitan glares daggers at the offenders. You take a deep breath and ignore the friends who decided to crowd inside your hut. The boy with the forehead tattoo lies peacefully. Although you are running out of steam, his wound is healing nicely. One of the women, you believe it’s Pakunoda, comes to you and bends down. 

“Can I get you anything?” You discover that your throat is absolutely parched. “Some water, please.”

  If you remember correctly, the last you saw of her was when her head was shaved and some outsider kid did it. She had always kept it short. And now, it’s on her shoulders and very sleek. Over the years she’s drastically changed.

  You drink the water, which to your surprise, is clean. “Hey, how did this happen anyway?”

  “Don’t ask questions.” Feitan quickly shuts you down. Before you can ask anything more, you notice the entire group of friends are quiet. 

  “It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” You nod at the blonde boy with blue eyes and a permanent smile. Completing the hour, the tattoo guy is up. He’s immediately impressed. “My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer. Yours?” He puts out his hand for you to shake. 

  “Yeah, the book collector-theater nerd-kid, right? My name’s-” Before you can even answer, Feitan does it for you. 

  He gives your name and how your Nen works. He’s quick with it, too. You side eye Feitan for a second. “Thanks, Feitan. I, uh, really needed a spokesperson.”

“Ah, I guess it can’t be helped then, Feitan?” There’s tension in the air. It’s thick and heavy. By the looks of it, neither one is backing down. “Um, it’s not a big deal that he answered for me, you do know that, right?”

  Seconds pass through this. You look around for anyone to intervene with this. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s deep. “Since Fei explained it, why not have her join?”

“Positions are filled.” Chrollo still stares directly into Feitan’s eyes. Phinks nervously chuckles, once again trying to defuse the situation. “Fei, come on. No fighting. Right boss?”

  Suddenly, it’s lifted. Chrollo has what looks like a practiced smile on his face. “That’s true. That’s a rule.”

  Chrollo takes a glance at you. “She obviously means a lot to you. Clearly, she’s an asset, too.”

  “I’m right here, jackass.” Feitan smacks you on the head. “I’ll handle her.” 

  The others sigh in relief. Momentarily, you’re a little offended. “It was nice meeting you.”

They exit your hut right after, leaving Feitan behind. “So. those were your friends, huh?”

“Watch tongue.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes. There is blood on the floor and on the table. The furniture is in disarray due to all of his friends having no home training.  “I haven’t seen you in forever and this is how you greet me?”

 He frowns. “I say hello all the time.” You turn to him. “When? I didn’t see you.”

Feitan huffs and kicks the ground lightly. You get up to move the furniture back to place. Your movements are slow and everything seems so much heavier. Everything is swirling right before your eyes. Your head hurts and yet feels so light. Before you meet the ground, Feitan takes you to the couch and lays you down. 

  “I haven’t seen you in so long, little boy…” Those were the last words you say before you drift to sleep. 

Hours later, you wake up at the sound of birds. There is a beautiful blue blanket on you with golden yellow designs. It’s thick and so warm you could stay forever. You’ve never owned anything like this. 

  Slowly you get up and search for Feitan. He’s nowhere to be found much to your dismay. Last night’s conversation still stays with you. He insisted that he says hello all the time. That he sees you regularly, yet, you haven’t seen him at all. 

  The blanket, the wind chime, the medical supplies, the various decorations with stones, paint and if you weren’t smart, you’d say gold. Could Feitan have been the one to give you gifts? Silently watching over you and in his own way, saying hello? You have felt like you were being watched for years. 

____________

  “Do you understand why I didn’t welcome you?”

“No, and I never will. Now please, leave me alone.” You feel convicted by turning a man of God away, but can he truly be one when he left a child to suffer? You were in the cold, wind, and rain, alone in one of the worst parts of the city. All you had was Feitan, and he was there once in a blue moon. After the rejection from the church, you took it upon yourself to care for others as no one had ever cared for you. Although hurt and afraid, you chose not to spread that toxicity. You decided that no matter the size of change, it still works. 

 However, you will not fall prey to the same people. For instance, that girl you saved and this priest. How can he expect your services with no repentance or atonement? You forgive, but like hell will you forget. 

Damn…you were so sure you were over the pain of your past. That the change you made within yourself and how you treat people so no one else suffers like you, would stick. Alas, all it takes is one person to bring it down. You want to kick yourself because of the regression. Then again, the hostility isn’t your fault.

You walk into the hallway with small statues, stone walls, and large windows. The sun shines brightly through them, making the church seem prettier than it is.

“Please-”

“She said no.” Feitan stands with his hands in his pockets, the sun shining on his pale skin. It has been a few months since the incident with Chrollo. You haven’t seen any of them but have felt eyes on you, which you have deduced was Feitan. However, you learned the truth of the blanket. The name stitched on it belonged to an old clan, the Kurta, that was mutilated, tortured, and murdered by the Phantom Troupe. It disgusts you. The blanket is comfortable but still. 

Feitan, the boy who you taught to tie his shoes, gave you a trophy of his crime. You wanted to burn it, or bury it in the memory of the Kurta, yet you couldn’t. It’s a gift from the one consistent person in your life. Your protector and giver. So, you folded it and put it in a box. 

   Now, here he is like he’s done nothing wrong. Defending you and putting the man that’s been with the city for ages in his place. You’re shocked at his behavior. 

  “Feitan, surely you must understand!” 

“Shut up.” Father Rizole took a step back in surprise. Feitan was one of his regulars, if you remember correctly. This must be a surprise for the aging priest. 

You hum at the scene. Even though the rumors of what the Troupe has done bothers you, it doesn’t mean you aren’t opposed to the benefits. The priest backs up and sighs. 

“If you ever reconsider, please, let me know. We could use your help.”

“I could’ve used it too.” You end the conversation there and leave. Feitan soon follows you. He’s silent on his feet and very fast. Feitan was behind you but his quick feet caught up in less than a second. Now, he walks right at your side. 

“So, you just decide when you want to see me?” 

Feitan shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

Sighing, you turn to him and ask, “What do you need this time?” The lower half of his face is hiding under a plain cowl now. His eyes show all of the emotion needed. “I just hang out.”

  The sun is too hot for this nonsense. Sweat trickles down your face and back, becoming sticky. “So that’s why you’re here, right? I’m shocked.”

Before he can say your name, you continue. “Oh! And let's not forget the little massacre that took place, huh? Yeah, being used to heal your friend from that was really fun.”

“I didn’t.”

 You roll your eyes. “No, just that one guy. That’s who to you, again?”

“Boss.” You scoff at his short answer. Then, you think about the possibility. “Your boss? Then…doing that to the Kurta, wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“No, not mine.” His hands remain in his pockets. His hair blows in the wind slightly. You realize he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while. 

“If you could, you know, go back in time…would you still do it?”

“Yes.” No hesitation, no thought put into the answer. Just a plain as day answer and a tone that leaves no room for an explanation. 

“So whatever he wants he just gets? As long as it aligns with your twisted mind, right?”

  His eyes grow darker. “I save you.”

You point to the church. “No, no you didn’t. That guy wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had it handled.”

Shaking your head, you go to leave until a hand wraps around your wrist. “Boss takes nen. I didn’t let him.”

  Was that what that was? That tension that day that was suffocating? Remembering that day, you start to form pieces. “Would he hurt you if you didn’t go along with his schemes?”

“No.” 

Well there goes that idea. “Nevermind.”

You try to yank your wrist from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let me go!”

“I protect you, always. Bad people here, everywhere. I get dirty for you.” His face is indifferent but his words give it away. The plea for you to understand and realize, dare you say, his devotion to his friends. Does this include you?

Is that what it is? What friendship, this connection is? You are aware of the deeds the Troupe do. You understand why they thought it would be a good idea (somewhat anyway). 

“Thank you, then.” He lets go of your wrist which was grabbed painfully tight. He trades that in for holding your hand instead. You are shocked at first, but if you make it a big deal, he’ll stop. You don’t want him to right now. 

  Not when you feel safe. You still want to kick yourself… and maybe throw in a punch.

_____

Apparently, the Troupe have gone their separate ways for now. They don’t cling onto each other for a long period of time after a job. It’s better that way since it has a lesser chance of them getting caught. They still hang out from time to time, though. 

For you, you managed to get out of Meteor City after the argument with the priest. Feitan had gone to do another heist with Phinks, if you remember right. You took that moment to skip town. You never wanted to stay in the trash, anyway. 

  And you were right to! Everything you thought of as a child about the world outside was true! Sure, people can be rude and things can be corrupt, but you’re fed and resting. There are bright lights and kind people. It can be clean and the soap smells so good. Just the other day you got to experience a nail salon. Rather than stealing from you, the lady next to you, Jade, talked about her family. Her daughter is Ruby and her wife is Scarlet. Jade and Scarlet want another child. You offered the name Emerald. 

  In Meteor City, you would’ve had to fight. Now, you are making friends and offering beautiful names. It’s a stark contrast that is fully welcomed. 

  The sun is bright and the moon is sometimes round. It doesn’t always attract evil and can sometimes sing such a beautiful melody. There are pearls and diamonds. There are seasonings that make the food taste unbelievably good. It’s all expensive, but infinitely better than Meteor. 

And Nen is a secret here. In the city, many knew about it and used it without discretion. Here it’s different. Like a secret identity for a hero. Your nen in particular isn’t used as much as it was before. Your ability was so tiring. Pretty and incredibly useful, but exhausting nonetheless. 

  It has been a few years since you saw him, but he’s seen you. He found you quickly, too. When you came home from your office job (which you are still ecstatic about, by the way) you noticed a new painting in your house. It was dull and in black and white. The painting is of a few plants that take the center stage. Actually, they’re your nen plants. In the background is what looks like your old city. Piles of rubbish and polluted air in black swirls. There are clouds above and a dark sun barely poking out. 

  It’s sad. Beautiful, but sad. You have wondered what he meant by it. You open the door to your apartment. It’s not much and one day you want to get a house. 

  The keys make a jingle when you set them on the countertop. The apartment is still dark, so you scramble to flip the switch. “Why you leave?”

You scream at the top of your lungs. Standing there nonchalantly is Feitan, who you haven’t had contact with in a hot minute. His hair is even longer than before. He wears a new cowl that has a skull on it over his face. His trench coat looks a little too big for him but he wears it well anyway. 

  “Uh, because I live here? What are you doing here?” You set your bag down and take off your short heels. Although he’s a murderer, you still feel safe with him. 

 He takes slow strides towards you. “ Why? I looked for you and you weren’t there.”

“You knew where I was. I got your presents,” You point to the painting. He hides his face a little in the fabric. “I like it by the way. Did you do it?”

“Shut up.” You sigh and walk into your kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

 You begin to wash the rice. Your eyes switch from looking down to taking obvious glances at him. Right about now, he should be in his mid twenties. It’s amazing how long you’ve known each other. You remember him as that kid who didn’t know how to tie his shoes and him teaching you about Nen. Time flies so fast when you least expect it. 

  You crack the eggs and whisk them. The sound of the utensil against the bowl and the sizzle of the tomatoes in the pan is all that is heard. Feitan doesn’t make one sound. He opts to stare at you working and even has a glint in his eye which you think could be satisfaction. 

  “Do you still like this, by the way? I remember you snatching it.” You try not to smile at the memory. 

 “I do.” He hovers in your kitchen, just waiting, watching you do all of the work. Stingy bastard. After adding the seasonings, you could have never gotten in Meteor City, you fix him a plate. He happily accepts it and sits down on the floor. 

“I have a tab-” Oh, the memory. Allowing yourself to smile, you sit with him and eat off of his plate. “We’re sharing. ”

 He gives a slight growl but doesn’t do anything. “So, what brings you by?”

“I say hello.” You hum with a mouth full of food. “Well, hello to you too, little boy.”

He gives you a light kick. The two of you finish the plate. Both full, you just lay back and talk. 

“How long are you staying?” 

“Not long.” You’ll miss him. “Running from the cops again?”

“Need to hide out for a bit.” You nod, accepting his answer and that your connection will probably always be sweet moments. “It’s nice to have you here, even only for a moment.”

  Feitan taps you again with his foot. “I’m always here. I say hello all the time.” You know and are fully aware of what he means. His odd little gifts decorate your house. To bones, to rugs, even a china set he stole. It’s routine for him to give you something, even when you don’t see him. 

“Even though you run.” He kicks you again. The more you watch him, the more your chest tightens. He’s the only consistent thing in your life. Everything is fleeting. Your job is new as well as your relationship with your coworkers. But there is a line with them. Feitan is different.

  “How long are we going to do this dance?”

“I don’t dance.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “I mean you coming by once in a blue moon.” 

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.” You nod. “Figures.”

He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, that this whole thing is tiring. You come and go like some kind of feral cat.”

  “So?”

You sputter, “ So I don’t appreciate it.” He takes off his long coat and reveals his chest, next goes his shoes. “I sleep here.”

“You can’t use me!” He gets up and goes in the direction of your room. “Feitan!” You pick up his clothes and set them aside. “Do you hear me? I wasn’t done talking!”

  On your bed is a sprawled out Feitan. He looks at you with squinted eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

  Like always, he makes himself at home. You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him. “Move over.” 

  He scoffs and reluctantly moves out of your way. You feel him tense up as you lay down. “This is my bed. I can sleep here.”

  You face each other as you lay down. Neither of you say anything about how close you are. This is probably the closest you’ve ever been since you helped him tie his shoes the second time. You feel his eyes on you, making you nervous. “Stop staring at me.”

  “Never sleep with someone in a while.” You know. The last time was with you, no doubt. At the time, you didn't think about it, if you remember correctly. It's hard to tell since it's been so long. 

“The couch is that way.” He smacks his lips. “No, you go.” You open your eyes. 

“Like I said, this is my bed.” Feitan doesn’t say anything about your ownership. Instead, he’s honest with you. “I’m tired.”

  Instantly, you start to feel a little bad. In the city, no child was ever able to fully sleep. It was too dangerous, especially in the more dangerous districts. Him being honest about his state, you take it as a step. 

  “If you want to, I’ll be on the lookout.” His hands are next to yours. You grab them, just like he did those few years ago. “You can sleep now, Feitan.” 

  You don’t know when, don’t know how either, but you two do end up sleeping. His eyes are closed and his breath even. Your eyes flutter open and see that he’s got slight dark under eyes and his mouth leaking drool. Feitan looks peaceful, sleepy, like he hasn’t done this in a while. 

  The next morning, he’s gone with no evidence he was even there.

_________________

  You watch on the tv screen above the bank about the attack on York New, a city not too far from you. The attack happened a few days ago but it’s still in the headlines. You don’t blame them, to be honest. It was an insane event that over two thousand people died! 

  You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm. He touches your hand reassuringly. His watch gleams in the moonlight and his suit is perfectly pressed. He's the entire package, he’s perfect. A good job, good manners, an honest man, and treats you well, too. He always holds the chair out for you and gets up when you leave the room. Just like a true gentleman. 

  When you first met, it was a classic coffee shop romance. Then it blossomed into a romantic and expensive dinner, the movies, a nighttime walk in the park, all of the classic dates. In every single one of them he was the perfect gentleman, the perfect man. You like him and how he treats you. How consistent he is. He's the type of man you can rely on. 

  Nevertheless, there is a bothersome voice in the back of your head that reminds you of someone he just isn’t. He’s not Feitan Portor. You don’t feel the contentment Feitan gives when the two of you sleep. You don’t study your boyfriend’s features like you did Feitan.

Dammit, why are you thinking of him? He’s not around and you haven’t seen him in what? Two or three years? So why think of him now. Plus, you haven’t received a gift or a ‘hello’ from him. For all you know, he could be dead.

  “Are you alright?” You wake from your thoughts and look at your boyfriend. His hair is dark, blending in with the night. Eyes kind and green, a Grecian nose, and average sized lips revealing a dazzling smile. Not only is the very essence of him suave, but his looks are also perfect. Tall and handsome, well dressed and a smooth voice. 

It's just that one five foot one pest that won’t get out of your head. 

  “Y-yeah just…it’s all so shocking. York New is literally over there.” You point past the river where more tall buildings reside in the distance.

“I know, I know.” He brings you in close to him. He places a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.” 

Suddenly, the newscaster stops mid sentence and gasps. Before you know it, the Phantom Troupe have been named the offenders that caused all of this. Two thousand people. Feitan, did you really kill that many people?

“I would like to go home. I don’t feel the greatest.” He rubs your arm, you still being tucked into his side. Your excuse was a lie to cover the gnawing feeling towards Feitan and his deeds. Although the Phantom Troupe’s original intentions were from a decent stand point, it seems they’ve lost their way. Feitan has lost his way. 

  The gifts have stopped coming, him no longer saying hello. After the last time, when you made him familiar food and sat in a comfortable silence, he disappeared. This time, there was something about it that hurt. Like he didn’t want to come around. He didn’t want to say hello anymore. Or perhaps, he died which if confirmed, you would ache beyond help. 

  “The Phantom Troupe is dead.” The newscaster said. The crowd gasped, shocked that the most feared criminals in the world are gone. Did you jinx it? Curse the little boy who needed you to tie his shoes. The boy who liked your cooking and made sure you rested. Had strong faith in you, never doubting. Protected you from the shadows and held your hand. 

  Is he really gone? 

You hide your face in your boyfriend’s jacket. Tears stream from your eyes at the thought of his grave. With the Troupe, his friends dead, you’d be the only one to truly mourn him. To remember his name beyond his violence. 

You clutch your chest. “Are you okay? Does your chest hurt?” He grabs you by your shoulders, making you face him. He’s such a kind, decent man. But he’s not Feitan Portor. 

  “I just need to rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You give him a chaste kiss goodbye. Once he leaves, your chest hurts even more. You slide down as you look around at all the menace’s little gifts. The painting, the skull, the windchimes, everything he’s given you. Why, oh why, couldn’t you stay here long enough for your gift, Feitan?

Wait, what could you have given him anyway? He’s a thief that takes what he pleases and has nothing to wish for. 

You lay on your couch and put your arm over your face. The tears refuse to stop for even just a second. You don’t know what you’re crying harder for. Feitan or the confusing feelings for him. Now that he’s gone, you can’t properly tell him. How can you explain it? 

  It’s heavy on your chest and tightens it. You want to feel his body heat no matter how hot the day is. There are no small flutters in your stomach at the thought of him. No, it's something in your heart. You want to stare at him, to memorize every feature he has. To hear his soft voice that is just a centimeter away from a whisper. Just melt in his touch, his presence. Wait, why is this happening? You barely knew him! Does that fact even matter though?

 You slip your hand in your underwear, still staring at the ceiling, sniffling at the news of his death. You imagine the future. Seeing him walk into your house and setting his belongings on the table. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your back. No matter how long you’ve known him, his stature never fails to amuse you. He’d paw at your body, tearing off your clothes. Feitan wouldn’t hesitate to use his hands for your pleasure. 

  You trace your fingers in the direction you think he’d go. Curling your fingers inside, thrusting them in harshly, knowing that he can only be gentle in his own way. Your back arches from the couch. You swear you can smell him and the faint metallic scent that he holds. The feeling of his ragged breath on your cheek you could swear is real. 

  You moan as you take that jump you’ve searched for. Thinking of how good Feitan would make you feel. You're relentless on yourself, still going as strong as he’d be. Adding another finger, going faster and faster on your clit. Your moaning gets louder as the indiscernible amount of time goes on. 

‘ The Phantom Troupe is dead.’

You crash on the couch with one last gasp. The dream of the two of you ends in flames. The house, the passion, the years that go by in that home. Maybe even a child or two. Seeing him in the morning with a groggy voice is gone. Rubbing his eyes and saying he wants more eggs and tomatoes is no longer there.

  What would your gift be to Feitan? Memories? Sex? Food? Nothing fits. He can have those with anyone. 

  You slip yourself out from your underwear. It didn’t distract you. Perhaps if you thought of your boyfriend, it would have. But the feelings you have towards Feitan went beyond physical. What is this? What do you call this?

  Love? Time stops at the realization. It has to be that. That would have been your gift to him. Love. You cover your mouth as you admit it to yourself. 

'I love you Feitan Portor. I won’t forget you. I love your messed up hair and soft voice. For how you didn’t reject me when the world did. I will do the same for you. I’ll look past your torturous ways and miss you anyway. Maybe the world will curse you, but I’ll mourn you. Bury you so no one can spit on you anymore. I love you Feitan. 

   I’m in love with you Feitan Portor. This is my gift to you. For you to know that you will not be forgotten even though I never got to tell you, to thank you for everything. For leaving the baseball bat with me to protect myself. For painting that picture for me. All of the little gifts you thought I’d like, too. Thank you for protecting me from the priest and the wolves that hunted me every day when we were young.'

You stare at the ceiling till the earliest of mornings. It’s still dark, still heavy with the night sky. There’s some rumbling in the distance, a flash of light in the sky. You don’t bother to confirm anything. 

Just as you close your eyes, the window opens with a creak. You move your eyes to see the figure before you. The darkness covers it, only leaving the silhouette. “Why cry?”

You squint, trying to make out the features.  “Are you real?”

“Very.” It must be a lie. A cruel humor the world has. “Stop crying.” 

“I can’t. Not when you sound like him.” The figure cocks his head, that much you can see with the flash of lightning behind him. “Him?”

“Someone who can’t tie his shoes.” Your lip wobbles again. “I can tie them now.” The moon glows enough to show his face now as he steps up to you. Feitan’s delicate features peek out from his cowl. 

 You shake your head in denial. “It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re dead, Fei.” Your voice is hoarse from your sobs. 

  He looks shocked at your words. The man who looks like Feitan smacks your feet off the end of the couch so he can sit. 

“I’ll miss you Feitan Portor.” The longer you stare at the imaginary man, the more you hurt. “Well, stop.”

  He roughly wipes away the tears. “Ugly when you cry.” His face is close to yours. Since he’ll be gone by the time you come to your senses, you grab his face and kiss him. He sharply inhales, not expecting your sudden decision. 

  He growls against your lips, “Stupid brat.” 

  He feels real. He smells real, familiar too. You tell him such and with furrowed brows and a strong grip of his hand, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. “I’m real, you idiot.”

“They said you died…” You comb his hair through your fingers. It’s real, he's real . So, what’s going on? Before you can ask him, he cradles you. “Stop crying or I’ll go.”

  Your lips wobble at his threat. Rather than listening to it, you hug him. He nestles on top of you, hips placed between yours. He’s light, lighter than you thought so it isn’t a bother.

  “You’re so ugly when you cry. Don’t cry.” He holds you closer and kisses your head. Against your ear, you feel his lips move. You can’t tell what he’s mouthing. When the two of you comfortably slept those years ago, that was the closest you’ve been. Now, this beats that record. Face to face, body to body, and sharing breaths. 

  After a few moments of thunder and lightning, he kisses you gently. Not at all like the desperate one like before. Realistically, you know these feelings you have for him seem fake. You’ve only had a few moments with him. So, why are they so significant? Are they with him too? Is it possible that love can blossom quickly?

  Gentle kisses turn passionate, never wanting to separate. Little nibbles on the right places and sucks on all of the best ones. Clothes leave, not wanting to get between the two friends, those who dance around each other. For the first time, they meet. 

His hands reach your throat as he kisses you, making sure to give it a light squeeze. His weight is still on you, not hurting in the slightest. Feitan makes sure his hand reaches below and swirls his thumb on your bud. You gasp, surprised you were right about how he’d do it. Every ministration he does is exactly how it was pictured. Your hands don’t compare to it. Not by a long shot. 

  Despite his size, his hands are still bigger than yours. They reach deeper than you and are thicker too. In no time, you come, the bliss lasting a good minute before he sheathes himself inside. His thickness is more than you thought. It’s a bit of a stretch, but in a good way. 

  His gasps quicken with every thrust. You can tell that you're being loud, way louder than when you touched yourself. Feeling the rush and strength of his movements has you claw his back in ecstasy. He groans at the sensation. Finally, after this time of passion and intimacy, you both hold each other as you fall off of that cliff.

  Feitan looks into your eyes. With a softness that no one in the world could’ve predicted the torturer of the Phantom Troupe to have, kisses you. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t cry.”

 “It’s hard not to when I know you’ll leave.” Silently, Feitan removes himself from inside you. It’s become routine, so you expect him to walk out. He lays back down, his head on your stomach. You run your fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut. 

--

 You wake up, not realizing that you went asleep in the first place. Before you can get up, you feel pressure on your stomach. Feitan rests on you still, eyes completely closed and his face peaceful. The two of you are naked and the only source of heat is each other. As much as you want to wrap your arms around him, you know he’ll react negatively or at least flinch. 

  Soon after, he stretches and rubs his face against your stomach. Like before, he drooled in his sleep. “Good morning.” 

He grunts in response and sits up on his heels. It takes him a moment to remember the night before. His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, making you highly aware of your current state. You cover yourself with a blanket draped over the couch. 

  “I have to go.” Ah, right. He’s a cat. 

He gets dressed. Once he has his boots on, you see him tie them the way you taught him. “Proud of you. You finally learned huh?”

 “Brat.” You laugh a little at him. Once he’s done you ask, “Will I ever see you again?"

He cradles your face. “I come back.” You nod, holding back tears. He studies your face and settles on your eyes. He must have realized that you were trying not to cry. His hands still remain on your face as he kisses you. He lingers there for a minute. A parting kiss, a meaningful one. 

  Something tells you that this feral cat isn’t going away anytime soon. That he’ll always be constant and you won’t be totally alone. A companion you won’t see everyday and only for a night. 

 This is the gift you’ll give him. You’ll be home for him. 

___________________

Months later, news about the Chimera Ants came out. You had already broken up with your boyfriend and heard he had left town to avoid them. Of course, you followed suit and got the hell out of there. 

  Without any plan, you moved back to Meteor City, where you thought that they wouldn’t be. Alas, that was stupid. You made a home base in the residential area. Not knowing that Meteor City was plagued by the wretched beasts. 

  By God’s grace, you managed to avoid them due to you being in the residential district. News that the Phantom Troupe were home to fight them ran rampant. The thought of Feitan made you nervous and you don’t know why. 

  Suddenly, right as you put away your dishes, the door opened. You grabbed a knife and faced the intruder. Standing there was the Phantom Troupe, who once again, barged into your home like they owned the place. 

  “What the hell?” You shout. The first one is Phinks with a wide smile. “There she is! Fei, I found her!”

  You put your hand on your hip. “Seriously, what are you doing her-you’re dragging in mud, take off your shoes!”

 “It’s only a little.” Phinks pouts. “I don’t care! You don’t live here.” 

Phinks and his friends grumble as they do as they’re told. The last one to enter the house is Feitan, who is notably holding his left arm. Without being told, he removes his shoes. 

  “Feitan…” He hasn’t faced you yet. “What happened to your arm?” 

“I’m injured too, (Y/n)!” The smiling boy with round eyes whines. You have no idea what his name is. Only that he and the rest are in Feitan’s gang. 

  “Alright, let me see.” He lays down on your clean table and says, “It’s all over. I need the full treatment!” 

  “Ugh, fine.” You grumble under your breath about the disrespect and your poor table. Finally, Feitan sits on one of the pushed aside chairs. He says, “I need it too.”

  “Big babies.” 

You heal the biggest cry baby completely. The blond, whose name you now know as Shalnark, stretches. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been hurting all day!”

  Rolling your eyes, you turn to Feitan who has been silent. He holds out his arm for you. You take the limb and inspect it. 

 “Completely shattered.” He grunts in agreement. He stares into your eyes and gives you a familiar slight smile. You notice that his friends are quiet, not a sound or word among them. 

“You guys alright?” You ask. The girl shakes her head yes and ‘whispers’ to the rest. “Should we leave them alone?”

  “Probably.” A mummy with boxing gloves answers. You’ve never seen him before in your life. 

“Uh, we’ll check the place out. Y’know, make sure it’s safe.” Shalnark shoos the little kid out and into a separate room, your bedroom. “We’ll clear this out in case you guys need it!”

  You huff and roll your eyes. Feitan’s cheeks are red and he’s glaring daggers at his friends. The girl goes outside with the remaining three to check the area. You and your feral cat are alone. 

“What are they checking for? I’m in a residential area.” 

“Ants.” 

  “They’re here? In the safe zone?” You begin to panic until he grabs your hand. “You’re safe now. They’re not in the city anymore.”

“Wha-how? What’s going on?”

  He pinches you lightly, encouraging you to heal his wounds. “Oh, right, right.” Flowers of all colors circle around. They begin to smooth over Feitan’s wounds. You take a second to wipe the blood off of his lip, letting there be some room for the petals to go. 

“How’s the other guy look?”

“She's toasted.” You smile. “Atta boy.”

  He’s healed, the petals and flowers disappear. You lick your lips at the sight of his bare chest. You didn’t notice before due to the audacity of these heathens barging in. 

  His heart rate quickens. “You leave again.”

You nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I had to, Fei. the Chimera Ants invaded. I had to run.”

“With your boyfriend?”

You let out a small gasp. “ No. How do you know that?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You lie.”

“I didn’t lie to you. I just never said anything.”

  “Words of a liar.” You scoff at him. “I did not lie to you. I lied to him. You don’t have any business with our relationship.”

At first, he was looking at his lap. Those grey eyes of his immediately found a new target to glare at. “You’re not with him anymore. ”

“No. Why does that matter?” He begins to tap his foot lightly. “Why did you break up?” 

  “You hungry?” You start to get up until you’re tugged down. “Why?”

When you don’t answer, he whispers in your ear. “Because I fucked you?” Your face is so warm. 

“If we run, we can still make it out.”

“Why are we running?” A small voice asks.

“Because I think they need the room.” 

“Will you two shut up?!” You are two seconds away from running out of your own damn house. You stand and his hands hold you by your hips. “Tell me why you leave him?”

  “Because of you.” It’s embarrassing to tell him your feelings. Hopefully, he can read your mind or something and shut up. He sighs and stands, walking over to you without a hitch. He kisses you. 

  “That’s what you get for lying.” He’s not remorseful or even boastful. Feitan takes your answer in stride. “No more leaving. Stay so I can find you.”

“You’ll always find me, remember?”

______________

Time after that, you were stuck in charge of Chrollo’s lover or something. She’s not too bad but clearly traumatized. Anytime you’d tell her to go with you, she’d look shocked. Like she was surprised she could leave. You were suspicious of her relationship with Chrollo. Something didn’t sit right with you whenever he or Feitan came up. She’d tense up. She never talked about it either. From what you understand with the little information you have, is that she was a former member that raised an orphan and that Chrollo loved her immensely. Perhaps too much.

  From what you know, there was a big showdown on the Dark Continent and the boat that was taking a voyage to the fake one. The Phantom Troupe were on that one at first, fighting Hisoka Marrow. He was a sore loser that got humbled and decided to attack again. 

  Amazingly, only a few died. You didn’t want to know the details or anything. You can’t go through that again. So, after that news, you and Chrollo’s lover parted ways. She went on to find a kid she raised. You, on the other hand, decided to settle out of Meteor City. This was almost a year ago.

  You have an apartment now in the town where you and your boyfriend lived, right next to York New. It’s basic, not fitting any aesthetic or anything. The good thing about it is that it’s bigger than your first one. It’s two bedroom and has a good price. 

   Feitan hasn’t reappeared. It tore you to shreds. You’ve managed to piece yourself together bit by bit, but you are a hollow version of yourself. Surviving and not enjoying the little things you used to. You even saw Jade, Scarlet, Ruby, and the new child, Emerald. Even that heartwarming moment didn’t fulfill you. However, it was the first time you smiled in a while. 

  You stir the food in the pot. Since it’s a little chilly, you made soup. You put the lid over the pot, letting it cook. There’s a knock on the door. You open it and see the man you’ve waited for. 

  Feitan is in dark clothing and has a large scar on his face. There’s no cowl over him, or a large trench coat. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at you expectantly. You realize that you’ve just been standing there, you move to let him in. Once again, he makes himself at home. 

  “How’ve you been?” 

“You leave again.” He states bluntly. His eyebrows are furrowed and has a frown on his face. 

“Bold of you, very bold.” You move around him. “Why did you go?”

“Because I’d never stay in that city forever. The Ants were gone, the world settled. So why couldn’t I? That place is gross anyway.”

  He sits on the barstool and cracks his neck. You ask a question right after he sits. “How long you here for?”

You don’t know why you asked that. He’ll only be here for a moment. A while ago, you had made the decision to accept it as your gift to him. To love and mourn him when the world won’t. When news about the Phantom Troupe hit, you couldn’t bear to hear it. Their trip to the fake Dark Continent, then their corrected course to the right one, ended in a battle with them facing Hisoka and Illumi and everything else over there. 

  It was too hard for you to think about. That doesn’t mean you didn’t mourn and that you’ve snapped out of it.

   “For good.” 

You look up into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he’s smiling with soft eyes. You see that he has a dimple on his left cheek. “W-what about-”

“Done for a while. Maybe forever. I know I’m staying.”

   “But your friends, where are they?” He shrugs even though you see the tension. “Separate. We split for a bit.” 

  He rubs his shoulders nervously. “Can I stay with you?” 

“Wow, you’re asking? Shocked.” You tap on the counter. The weight you’ve been carrying is lightened. “Feitan?”

“Yes?” He gets off of the stool and makes his way around the counter. “You know how you give me all those gifts?”

  He nods his head. “Well, this is my gift to you, Feitan Portor. You can stay as long as you like.” 

  He wraps his arms around you. He’s hugging you. This time, you aren’t afraid to hold him back and squeeze. Maybe, just maybe, this is what home is? 

  If the Phantom Troupe resurrects, at least you know he’ll always come home. That you two will be a constant force for each other. No matter if it does or doesn't, you two aren't dancing but admitting things you couldn't. This is home, a gift for each other.  

#feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan porter x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #slight yandere #q #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #hxh feitan #idk what to put here rn

[wenutted]

Hello. I'm sorry if this is sudden but I was wondering if you could make a platonic Neuvillette story with a little angst with the reader being the youngest of his 3 children and they were extremely stressed especially after Lyney and Lynette's trial along with Neuvillette and the readers mother getting divorced so their older brother and sister Elliot and Odette who were twins decided to take their little sibling out to get their mind off of everything but when Neuvillette realized his children left he went to the traveller, Paimon and the readers best friend and longtime crush Lyney for help and Neuvillette was not happy his children just left without saying anything. (If you're not okay with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or good night, you can also change Elliot and Odette's names if you want to)

Platonic!Neuvillette & teen!reader (ft. Uh... ocs, technically, I suppose)

[Warnings]: Spoilers for the Fontaine archon quest, and death

[Notes]: Apologies, but I removed the Lyney part, as I only write platonic characters. I hope you understand!!

—————

-> Too much.

-> This has all been too much for you.

-> Everything feels like it's happening at once.

-> At first, it had been bearable. As heartbreaking as your parents' divorce was, you and your siblings had long since noticed them falling out of love, and were already expecting it.

However, what you weren't expecting was the long custody battle that took place afterward. Frankly, you didn't understand why either of your parents cared so much, as you weren't particularly close with them. Normally, you, Elliot, and Odette spent most of the time locked away in your rooms, instead of really interacting with your parents.

Regardless, all of the paperwork and court cases were really annoying and stressful.

And as soon as you thought you had gotten a break, everything falls apart again.

—————

-> Lyney and Lynette's Magic Show was supposed to be a form of relaxation, after all of the stress you've been enduring.

You were incredibly excited. Your good friend, Cowell, had even managed to secure you and your siblings front row seats!

The actual performance itself was spectacular, too! Each act leaving you inching further away from your seat, eyes sparkling.

...Until the finale— where the water tank snapped from its bindings and came crashing down upon the 2nd box— with an all-too-familiar mask floating along the rapidly spreading water.

Your heart sank immediately as the theater fell silent. Cowell, Lyney and Lynette's assistant, had been murdered. Not only that, but a girl had gone missing, too— leading your mind back to several old cases. You were now a first-hand witness to the serial disappearances case.

—————

-> You didn't even get any time to mourn before the court case began. And you managed to barely hold it together throughout the case.

Elliot and Odette were incredibly worried. They weren't particularly close with Mr. Cowell, but they know you were friends with him, and given how you've basically been teetering on the edge of a breakdown for the past couple weeks, the twins weren't sure how much their baby sibling could take.

Safe to say, as soon as the trial is over, the twins practically drag you out of the Opera Epiclese; more than eager to empty their wallets to take everyone's minds off of the recent tragedy.

In the end you all book a few hotel rooms, and decide it'd be best to just stay in for a while.

—————

-> To be frank, it takes Neuvillette quite a while to notice his children have disappeared— after all, none of you are particularly close, and he has a lot of paperwork to go through— especially now.

By the time he does notice, it has already been a few days. He tries to remain calm about it, but by the time dinner rolls around and still no one's home, Neuvillette can't help but begin worrying. Where were you all?

Again, Neuvillette tries to wait it out, but the longer you're gone, the more he worries. Usually, whenever you, or your siblings, left for longer than a day, you'd tell him first.

So, it only makes sense that when he manages to pass the Traveler on his morning stroll, he immediately asks them to search for you.

You best bet papa Neuvillette is happy to see all three of his children return home on the same day. Albeit he still lectures you about your unannounced leave.

Completely worth it, though.

—————

[A/N]: I was planning to add some dialogue after that last blurb, but I've been procrastinating on this for quite a while, and I wasn't sure what else to add, this was super fun to write, regardless!!!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #fontaine #platonic #neuvillette x reader #platonic genshin x reader #father figure #tw death #dragon sovereign #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette #gender neutral reader #oc #technically #I think