#obviously it’s expensive but I can’t get over how beautiful and detailed it is

[lovebeinaprincessworld]

Challenging fate (Tom Riddle x reader)

soulmate!au

Chapter 5

Masterlist

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Epilogue

Description: There were a lot of unexpected things happening the day of the Battle of Hogwarts. Being send back into the past to change the course of history was definitely one of them.

2807 words

You hugged Ruth, Edith, Grace and Elsie one last time before they were departing in the carriages to Hogsmeade to catch the train home for Christmas. Obviously you were staying in Hogwarts again, because you were an orphan here. It was weird to spend Christmas away from your family and friends. Normally you would go home with Hermione and then spend the last few days at the burrow. But here you were staying behind with Tom, only a handful of other students were staying too.

On Christmas morning you got dressed and met Tom in the great hall, where he was already sitting at the Slytherin table. For the holidays you two had taken to sitting together at meals, considering there weren’t many people there. So you sat next to him and kissed his cheek as a greeting. „Good morning my love“, he said and gave you a soft kiss to your temple, before taking another sip of his tea.

„No one from Slytherin stayed behind, how about we go to our commonroom after breakfast?“, he asked while turning the page of the daily prophet infront of him. „Sounds good“, you agreed while helping yourself to some bread.

„Pureblood“, Tom announced the password to their commonroom, making you shift uncomfortably. He noticed and looked apologetic. „Sorry Darling“, he said while you both stepped through the entrance. „Don’t worry about it“, you shook your head and looked around. This was the first time you’ve ever been to the Slytherin commonroom, in this time and the future. This was pretty obvious though, since you were a muggleborn Hufflepuff and most likely the personified opposite of Slytherin.

It was significantly darker and gloomier than the Hufflepuff commonroom, but it was still cozy, especially with the christmas decorations and the tree next to the lit fireplace. „I honestly can’t believe it’s Christmas already“, you sighed, letting Tom lead you to the couch right in front of the fireplace and sitting down.

„I know time flies, we have known eachother for over four month now“, he smiled and let go of your hand so he could pick up something from under the tree. He got you a present? Of course you got him one, but you wouldn’t have expected him to get you something to be honest. „I had to think of you when I saw this so I decided to get it for you“, he said with a smile and slid right next to you, before giving you a small rectangular present and bigger flatter one.

„Two? Tom you shouldn’t have“, you protested, but slowly took them from him anyway. You hoped he didn’t spend too much on these by following the example of his pureblood friends who were probably all getting the most lavish presents considering how filthy rich their families were - you had to think about how Tom was an orphan and spent the little money he probably had on you and you felt bad.

„I wanted to“, was the only thing he said and pulled you into his arms when you started opening the big one first. „Oh my god! You got Slughorn to give you a copy?“, you excitedly looked at Tom clutching the framed picture of you two from Slughorns party to your chest. „As if that was hard, you know Slughorn“, he chuckled and looked down at you lovingly. „I love it, honestly thank you“, you grinned and he blushed a little, obviously slightly overwhelmed with the situation. „Don’t forget the other one“, he tried to distract you and you turned away again to pick up the smaller one laying on the cushion next to you.

Taking off the wrapping paper you saw it was a small jewelry box and opened it carefully. Inside was a delicate oval pendant on a fine gold chain with detailed patterns engraved in it. It was beautiful. And probably expensive too. „Tom this must have been expensive you shouldn’t have-“, you began but Tom interrupted you with his lips on yours. Successfully silencing your protest, he pulled back.

„Open it“, he whispered and you carefully pulled it out before slowly opening it. Inside was the same picture he had given you in the frame, and you two were looking at eachother the same lovesick way as in the big one, moving slightly around. „Tom“, you breathed being absolutely overwhelmed by how thoughtful and sweet all of this was. This just couldn’t be the same person that committed all of the horrors in the future anymore, could he?

„Can you put it on me?“, you asked, finally finding your voice again. He took it from your hand and you turned around, before he gently put it around your neck and closed it in the back. „Thank you Tom, it’s perfect“, you smiled and gave him another gentle kiss. Before he could deepen it though you pulled away, making him groan in frustration

„Wait, I have something for you too“, you smiled and pulled out your present from the bag you brought with you. He looked a little stunned but took it nonetheless, opening it carefully. He pulled out the peppermint toads first, which you asked Ruth to buy (so Tom wouldn’t see) on your last Hogsmeade trip knowing that they were his favorite. Surprisingly Tom had a severe sweet tooth. “Thanks love”, he smiled at you before pulling the small album out that you created. He looked a little confused and opened it, his eyes widening while flipping through it.

“I asked the girls to take a few pictures of us without you noticing, so I could make this”, you explained excitedly, waiting for his reaction. He stayed silent flipping through the whole thing before slowly closing it and turning to look at you. Your face fell slightly. “Do you not like it?”, you asked worriedly. But instead of answering Tom took your face in his hands gently and kissed you like he never did before.

He poured so much emotion into the kiss, moving his lips slowly against yours, his hand slipping to your waist pulling you into him, overwhelming you with everything you felt at once. Slowly he pulled away and you were panting slightly. Damn, where did that come from? Not that you hadn’t made out before, but he had never kissed you like that. This was different. Opening your eyes you saw that he was already looking at you and there were so many emotions in his eyes when he looked down at you.

“I love you”, he said, loud and clear and without hesitation. Your breath got stuck in your throat and your heart beat even faster than before. This was the first time either of you two said the three words and to say you were shocked was and understatement. But before you could think about it too much, you just embraced it. “I love you”, you said genuinely and a smile spread over his face, making him even more handsome than usual. Softly he laid his lips back on yours and pulled you back with him.

————————

Later that day you two were laying in the empty library on the couch-like bench in a bay window behind the shelves. He was leaning into the pillows while you were laying down with your back to his chest. You two were observing the falling snow in silence, the fireplace in the corner crackling comfortably. “You know I think this was the first time I got a Christmas gift”, Tom suddenly broke the silence. You slowly tuned a little so you could look at him but he was still looking out the window. “In the orphanage we never got any and here I told my friends I do not want them to buy me anything.” You felt like he wanted to tell you more so you just stayed silent for now.

“It would have felt like I was a charity case.”, he spat and you saw that it bothered him that his friends were those rich pureblood boys and he had practically nothing to his name. “You aren’t though, you know that right? You’re everything but, everyone knows that with your intellect and ambition you can do greater things than all of your pureblood group”, you reassured him.

“You think so?”, he finally looked down at you and you could see the broken boy that had such a hard life in an unforgiving world for the first time. “Of course I do, Tom you got Os in every subject and you can say what you want about Slughorn, but he really is helping you make important connections. You can probably be and achieve whatever you want”, you smiled and kissed his jaw softly.

He closed his eyes and pulled you a little closer. “I never told anyone this but…do you remember when we first found out we were soulmates? And I told you I did not think I would have one?”, he asked you his gaze fixated on the snow outside again as if he wasn’t able to look at you while telling you this. “I do”, you quietly said, secretly shocked and moved at the same time that he was opening up to you so much.

“I thought I could not have one, because of my parents. My…father was a rich muggle that lived in the same village my mother lived in.”, he started the story and his voice took a harsh tone when he spoke of his dad. “She fell in love, but he was already engaged and not interested, so one day she slipped him a love potion. He left his fiancé and ran away with my mother, who fell pregnant with me. Do you know what happens when someone is conceived under the influence of armortentia?”, he asked you, but it was more a rhetorical question as he didn’t give you time to answer.

“They can not feel love. Which was true for me, before I met you at least. This is why I thought I did not have a soulmate”, he finished the story, taking in a deep breath. “But you have one”, you smiled a little, not really knowing what to say. He looked at you and tried to hide the pain in his eyes with a smile of his own. “Yes and I am forever grateful that I do. I could never lose you”, he said with a serious look in his face, and you softly stroked his jaw.

“Is that why you reacted so violently?”, you asked referring to the moment in the library back in September. “Yes exactly”, he nodded , “it felt like there was a…door or something broken down and all these emotions I was never able to feel poured out at once.” You looked at him a little worried but he only kissed your cheek reassuringly. “I’m alright don’t worry love”, he whispered.

“Do you ever feel angry at your parents?”, you carefully asked him, not wanting to trigger anything bad. “I used to hate my father, I still do I guess I mean he left my mother eventhough he knew she was pregnant”, he looked out the window thoughtfully, “but then again he was tricked into all of that and if someone would do that to me and I would lose you, I would probably do the same.”

Not wanting to push the matter you didn’t ask anything else, but you were a little more hopeful with regard to the outcome of all of this, you were glad he seemed to feel some kind of empathy. “I love you”, you told him quietly and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You laid your head back down on his shoulder and watched the snow falling softly again. “I love you”, he said and kissed your forehead.

—————————

If someone would have told you that you were on your way to celebrate a second Christmas in the 40s and that you weren’t back home again you would have laughed. You always thought this wouldn’t take more than a few months, maybe a year tops. But now it was already the start of October again and you were procrastinating the inevitable talk you had to have with Tom about everything. You were just too scared, what if he told you you were crazy and took the information you gave him to his advantage. Or even worse, what if he believed you and told you that he wanted a life with you, but just couldn’t come with you to the future.

And as if that wasn’t enough you were really not sure if he changed fully. You weren’t stupid, of course he changed to a large degree, but he still had his secret meetings with his Slytherin group and was being secretive about what they talked about. You really hoped that these meetings were just that, secretive little hangouts with his friend and not “how do we take over the world and kill all mudbloods” kind of hangouts.

You two stayed behind in Hogwarts for the Summer holidays, Dumbledore personally talked to Dippet about it and so you were granted permission. In one of yours and Dumbledores private talks you explained to him that Tom was getting more and more tense the closer the holidays came and that you were scared how a summer back in that orphanage without you would affect him.

He agreed with you, especially under the aspect that the Chamber of Secrets remained closed the whole year when it should have been opened by Tom. This did give you a lot of hope but you really didn’t want to jeopardize this progress.

But all of this lead to you not having seen anyone familiar for over a year and today after an especially bad potions lesson (you really weren’t as academically inclined as your sister) you finally cracked and barely made it to that old abandoned classroom that you and Tom discovered, before breaking down on the bench in the bay window by the corner.

You missed them. You missed your older sister always supporting you with everything she had. And you missed having your mom to talk to. And you missed your dad protecting you from everything. You even missed Hermiones stupid cat that was always picking on yours. Sobbing into your hands you let everything out that had been held back for way too long.

You were just glad that it was the last lesson of the day and Tom wouldn’t be searching for you because he had one of his secret meetings. You didn’t want to bother him with this, probably also because you didn’t know how to explain it. But you were too quick with that thought because moments later the door to the classroom burst open and a panicked Tom was frantically looking around the room.

You gasped, shocked from the sudden intrusion and his eyes landed on you hidden in the corner. He slammed the door shut and was infront of you in seconds, gripping your upper arms. “What happened? Why are you crying? Are you hurt? Who did this to you?”, he rushed out the questions without catching a breath and if you wouldn’t be crying you could have laughed about this.

“N-no it’s not��how did you know I was here?”, you chocked out trying to calm your breathing. Finally taking in your full disheveled form and the pain in your eyes Tom let got of your arms and sat next to you, pulling you into his arms and stroking your hair. “I don’t know, I think it has something to do with our bond, I just felt something was incredibly wrong, as if you needed me and I knew you would come here”, he explained and your tears were wetting his sweatshirt.

He just held you for a few minutes and you were thankful that he gave you some time before questioning you again, but when you finally calmed down he opened his mouth again. “Love, please tell me what’s wrong?”, he was much calmer this time, having also had some time to calm down. “Nothing, it’s just…I miss my family so bad”, you confessed (he would assume you were crying over your dead parents or something, so you deemed it safe) and a few tears were falling again, “and than the last potions lesson was so bad and Slughorn berated me infront of everyone and I just broke down.”

His grip on you tightened a little bit more and he kissed your head. “It’s going to be alright Darling, we are just going to stay here for now”, Tom whispered not pressuring you to tell more, just holding you for the rest of the afternoon. Sometimes you were wondering how he could have ever committed all the crimes he did in another life.

—————————————

Bit of a time jump, and not that much left to go til the end it’s not that long of a fanfic! Also the reason they don’t say “I love you too” is because I don’t like saying it, feels like you just agree with the other person and don’t really mean it yourself…anyway lmk if you wanna be tagged! <3 Feedback is always greatly appreciated I love love love reading your comments!!

@darkenwolfie @salleun

#tom riddle x reader #x reader #granger!reader #harrypotter #hogwarts #hufflepuff reader #soulmate!au #soulmates #tom riddle #the dark lord

[rejamart]

Health update/where I've been/where we go from here

As you all know, I have been repeatedly alluding to being ill lately.

This is true–my sleep disorder has been especially vicious lately, and I do very rarely go through phases of a couple of months where I am unable to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time and seem to be at the tail end of one now.

The other issue I have been reluctant to talk about, but it is at a point where it’s having a huge effect on me getting stuff done, so I thought I’d lay my cards on the table.

Please do not DM me/note me/comment on this or anywhere else to talk to me about this, even if it’s just to say “thinking of you.” I appreciate the sentiment but as I’ll explain in this post, it does not help me.

As most of you know, a couple of years ago I received a misdiagnosis for an eye condition. By the time it was corrected, I’d permanently lost most of the vision in my left eye. A course of painful and somewhat expensive treatment followed and I did get all my peripheral vision back in that eye, although I am still essentially blind on one side. 

Unfortunately, the condition I am diagnosed with has a one in three chance of affecting my other eye. I’ll be blunt: I don’t know if that’s what is happening to me right now. It’s entirely possible that I am experiencing symptoms related to another, more benign eye condition I have and that I am simply over-reacting out of fear and paranoia (although if that’s the case, it’s still visually quite annoying). But to be entirely honest, living under the specter of going blind–because that is still a likely outcome, even with treatment–is doing a number on my mental health that I am having a very hard time coping with.

The symptoms are most noticeable when I am drawing, especially detail work. This is how the original condition also started, and so I have entered a horrible spiral of: sit down to work when I am actually awake enough > start drawing > become distracted by distortion in my field of vision > have a violent panic attack > am now exhausted, sleep disorder kicks in, fall asleep. I’ve had multiple panic attacks daily for the past few weeks related to this vision complaint and am very tired. For obvious reasons, drawing right now is not bringing me joy or satisfaction.

I was in denial that this was happening for a few weeks despite me having this spiral every day, sure that I was over-reacting, so I kept stubbornly thinking that if I ignored it, it would go away. Obviously, that did not work. 

I am still working as I can–this is not me announcing a hiatus–but it is a plea for patience as obviously this is slowing me down substantially. You have already been so patient and I appreciate that. I am in touch with an ophthalmologist to see if I can get imaging/diagnostics done to either put my fears to rest or make plans for what to do next to try and save my vision, depending on how those tests go, but to be frank, I can’t really afford those tests so it’s a struggle hammering it out. There is a light at the end of that tunnel, but it may still be weeks before I can get an appointment to get tests and imaging.

In the meantime, I am sorry for how slow I’ve been and also for my reluctance to talk about my health. I have a very hard time talking about my health explicitly with anyone, and people offering sympathy/well-wishes is actually extremely triggering for me as it just makes me dwell more on how many people will be affected if I end up going blind. You all know that my life revolves around art–not just mine, but my joy in other people’s. I am used to spending hours in the TWWM galleries and Toyhouse just admiring all the beauty we’ve made in this fun, funny little community, but for the past month or so doing so only fills me with panic and dread. 

I am optimistic, despite all this, that the eye problem will turn out to be nothing, or that with aggressive early treatment I may be able to buy myself a few more years, if it’s not nothing. But this is new and scary and unexpected, and I am here to just thank you all for being so patient with me so far, and for continuing to be. 

If you have pending stuff with me you’d rather just get a refund on than wait, I completely understand and am not offended: please let me know. I’ll try and accommodate you ASAP. 

I will try to continue to make adopts as I am able. As they’re templated and largely deal with placing colors rather than details (except in small amounts) they’re much easier for me to handle without sending me into a spiral, although even then, sometimes it’s not enough to keep me from my own thoughts.

Thank you so much once again. I’ll have updates when I know exactly what’s going on. 

[fandom-took-my-sanity]

Abbott Elementary 2x02 “Wrong Delivery”

- Just from the cold open I could tell this was going to be an amazing episode, and I was SO RIGHT

- The easy relationship that the main characters have is beautiful, and I loved that they’re not telling Barbara what she’s doing. Real top tier friend behavior right there

- So...Taylor’s out of the picture? She was never really IN the picture because I think we only really saw her once or twice, but it’s still good to know

- Greg dating Taylor reminded me so much of when Jonah dated Glen’s daughter. Just the awkward position he’s in with Barbara (which was just the right amount of awkward I think, I didn't faint of second-hand embarrassment)

- I am 100% going to keep pointing out the similarities between Abbott and some of my other favorite workplace comedies, because I think it’s very cool when I see tropes or situations I like shown across different shows

- So that being said:

- Couples who frozen dessert together, stay together amiright?

- I loved that Janine got Greg the ice and went over to check on him. A lot of the time it’s him checking in on her, and you can just tell that she really cares about him and he really cares about her and ughhhhh I hate that this show is airing right now because I want to look up if they get married and all their details but I obviously can't do that

- I loved “What did you tell them?” because what WOULD Jacob have told his class about him?

- Melissa’s sister is a nice added layer to her. I wonder what's going to happen with that

- Also, Melissa throwing a corn cob at someone>>>>

- School funding is tricky, I liked that storyline, and Janine realizing that at the end of the day, the kids just want to feel special. At my school they gave us all laptops, which I am so grateful for. But every time I try to search for information I need to learn (like pretty much anything WWII related) and I get blocked by the content blocker, I wonder if it was the BEST use of their funding. The cost of school lunch went up to $4, when it was free last year, and today in chem my teacher told us that she cried when she got sent gluesticks by a student, because she would otherwise have to buy them herself. It’s interesting how schools choose to spend their funds, and I really do think that students (speaking as one myself) just want to feel appreciated, and like our needs are being met.

- A side note about the laptops (so sorry I’m going off topic, this just related really nicely for me). Last year if you had a laptop of your own, you could bring it to school and use it for work. If you didn't have one, you could rent one from the school for the year. It was very easy, it was free, and they had enough for everyone who wanted to rent one to get one. This year they are requiring all students to only work on the school’s laptops, and you are not allowed to bring in a personal computer. The only reason I have a laptop is because I needed it to do school online, so now I have this expensive piece of technology that I cannot use for the reason I have it. Last year’s system worked fine in my opinion, but I’m not on the school board, so I guess I wouldn't know. It’s just strange to me is all. Thanks for sticking through that if you did.

- Not enough Barbara and Melissa in this episode!

- I feel like Ava just isn't around as much as she used to be, is that just me?

- Janine did not look disappointed at all when she told Jacob she was sorry to hear Taylor and Gregory had broken up. I see you Janine

- I do not like that charter school teacher at all. I hope we never see her again, she was way too smug

- Oh my gosh the mice. That freaked me out and reminded my of how my school is currently home to a few too many HUGE spiders

- I think if Janine had painted her whole room that color it would’ve been distracting. It was a little TOO blue

- My family started talking during the pitch prep scene. It’s like they don't understand that my ship is onscreen! It’s a time for observing!

- Wednesday is my favorite day of the week hands down. I’ll see you all next time!

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary season 2 #janine teagues #gregory eddie #barbara howard #melissa schemmenti #jacob hill #ava coleman #janine x gregory #teddie #you all know by this point im just creating my own ship name #I AM CAPTAIN OF THIS SHIP #sorry for going into rant mode there #I just have a lot of feelings about this

[bakumu-archive]

to capture a star

rich!Daichi x fem!reader

wc: 13k

summary: when daichi asks you to go with him to his family’s cabin during spring break, the last thing you expect is to be greeted by a giant mansion. Will the money and social life scare you away or will you be able to find love with daichi, despite being thrown into a world of fast cars and expensive clothing?

cw: rich people, SMUT (daddy, praise, biting, feral daichi, unprotected sex, creampie), pining, racing, one punch, blood (from the punch), alcohol, insecurity, mild jealousy, possessive daichi, side kiyoko x tanaka, probably ooc

a/n: this is for the rich boy collab hosted by @bakugohoex​! be sure to check out all the other submissions! you can find the link to the masterlist here

terushima is an asshole in this and i'm sorry, i love him but i needed a captain to be sleazy and he volunteered. he told me he couldn't resist hitting on a cutie like you, and who am i to stop him.

check out the mood boards i made here and shout out to my beautiful beta reader @winniethepoohloathesyou​ for working so hard on this with me!

minors do not interact. this work contains mature themes and if you continue reading you have agreed you are willing to see such content

When Daichi sat down next to you in your econ class last week and asked you to come to his family cabin during spring break, this is not what you imagined. 

You thought that you would be able to spend some time alone with him, enjoying nature together in a small house nestled in the forest, spending enough time together to finally put a label on whatever the spark was between the two of you.

But no.

You blink rapidly and take a good look at your new surroundings, trying to make sense of what your eyes see. Before you stands the largest house you have ever seen. But just calling it a house would be an extreme understatement. 

This place is a mansion. Three stories of white brick detailed with elaborate stone embellishments. The gray mansard roof’s steep slope meets at the top with a fenced stone parapet. An elaborate garden extends between you and the house and you swear you can see an Olympic-sized swimming pool nestled into the courtyard. And this isn't even the front of the house. You blink in disbelief when you spot a giant race track off to your left and what looks like a massive, ten-car garage. The scent of sea air assaults your senses and when your gaze flickers to your right, you can see the ocean and the mansion's very own harbor. 

And none of that even includes how you got here: on a private jet, landing on a personal runway where you currently stand. 

The beat-up duffle bag you use for your family’s camping trips that hangs from your shoulder suddenly feels very wrong in a way you can't explain.

You turn to face Daichi as he joins you on the tarmac. “Daichi, this is your family cabin?” you ask wide-eyed, your voice sounding so high-pitched that you barely recognize it. 

He rubs the back of his neck, one of his nervous habits. “Yeah, it's kind of embarrassing. I used to spend all of my summers here with my siblings but now the house barely gets used,” he says sheepishly.

Before you can ask any more questions, the loud rumbling of car engines interrupts your conversation and you see two sports cars taking two corners on the track before barreling down the straight of the runway towards you at top speed. 

“Ah, those two are here already, I see,” Daichi grins. He takes your duffle bag from you, throwing the strap over his shoulder and pulling you closer to him while wrapping his arm around your waist. 

The cars roar to a stop right behind the jet, creating the perfect image, an Instagram influencer’s wet dream. 

Daichi leans over to whisper in your ear as they both get out of the cars, “The one in the red Ferrari LaFerrari is Kuroo Tetsuro and the one in the white Lamborghini Aventador is Bokuto Kotaro.”

The two are pointing fingers at each other as they get out of their cars bickering and you can see the wealth dripping off them. The man with the spiky black hair, that Daichi told you was Kuroo, is pointing back in the direction they came from as he closes his car door, while Bokuto, with his spiky gray hair, pouts, throwing his hands up in mock innocence. Both of them grab a bag from the trunks of their cars, still arguing with each other before Kuroo places his arm around Bokuto in a show of faux peace before they start walking towards you and Daichi.

“They're both idiots,” he pauses to watch Bokuto swat at Kuroo’s arm, “but they are actually really good guys.”

The two of them are still heated, poking at each other's chests as they reach you and Daichi, only stopping when he coughs to grab their attention.

“Are you two done yet?” he questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Daichi, I was faster, wasn't I?” whined Bokuto, giving Daichi and you a small pout as Kuroo pats his shoulder, leaning slightly closer to you.

“This must be Y/N. She’s cuter than you said Dai,” Kuroo says with a laugh.

You miss the way that Daichi’s cheeks start to turn pink because you were so taken aback at his statement. Daichi told his friends about you? His apparently super rich friends?

Daichi’s grip around your waist tightens slightly before he responds, “Guys this is Y/N L/N. Please, don't annoy her too much.”

Both of their heads perk up at that.

“Oh yeah Daichi, we will be perfect saints,” Kuroo smirks.

Bokuto matches Kuroo’s playfully devious look, suddenly over his apparent loss on the track. “Oh yeah, nothing but angels.”

Before Daichi has time to wipe the smiles off their faces, you hear the sound of helicopter blades whirring above.

You look around until you see it fly directly overhead. The sound fills the air as the helicopter starts its descent onto the helipad next to the parked jet.

The helicopter blades whip up the grass and plants all around, and you have to place your hand on your head to prevent your own hair from being messed up by the whirlwind. 

You look over to Bokuto and Kuroo to see them fiercely trying to protect their hair spikes from the wind and failing. Daichi follows your gaze and when he sees them, he lets out a laugh in full force.

The helicopter makes a soft landing and the blades slow down when the engine turns off and two people step out. 

The most beautiful girl you have ever seen in your life hops out from the operator's seat, throwing her gorgeous black hair over her shoulder as she walks over to the man holding his hand out for her, hoisting their designer bags over his shoulder.

“Kiyoko, Tanaka, I'm so glad that you guys could make it,” Daichi smiles at the couple as they approach.

Daichi lets go of your waist so he can give the two of them a proper hug, before introducing you.

“This is Y/N.”

Kiyoko walks up to you and grabs your hands in hers and smiles at you, “Finally another girl. It's about time.”

Tanaka laughs, “What, babe? Are you getting tired of us?”

She lets go of your hands so she can give Tanaka a playful slap to the chest, “You know that's not what I meant, Ryu. It'll be nice to have someone to get ready for the gala with!”

You feel Daichi slightly flinch next to you at the mention of a gala.

Your brows furrow as you ask, “A what now? Daichi never mentioned anything about a gala.”

You turn to him, questioningly, and he moves his hand to the back of his neck for the second time in ten minutes. 

“It's nothing really, just this huge party my family has hosted for years. We really wouldn't even have to go if you don't want to…” the last few words trail off before he is interrupted by Kiyoko.

“What are you saying Daichi, you have to go! It's your family's gala.” Her brows are furrowed and she is looking at him suspiciously.

Daichi lets out an exasperated sigh, “Well that's a discussion for the future. Let’s go settle into our rooms.”

Daichi puts his arm around your shoulders as he leads the group up to the back porch, walking through the garden and around the giant swimming pool and fire pit area. 

“I assume you four are taking your normal rooms?” Daichi asks the group.

They all nod before splitting in different directions, obviously understanding the intricate layout of the house after what you assume is years of friendship. 

Daichi leads you through the first floor, pointing out various rooms and points of interest as you take in the vastness of your new surroundings. Most of the rooms have white or cream-colored walls with very intricate crown molding. Some have very distinct and uncomfortable furniture that looks like it has never been used, while others look like they are ready for a full day of lounging. He even takes you past the bowling alley and the in-home movie theater.

Eventually, he leads you to a huge staircase that circles around the main entryway to the house. The whole room looks like it's made out of marble and you take a twirling step to bask in the grandness of the space. 

Daichi calls out to you, pulling you back into reality. He has one foot on the first step and his hand is outstretched for you to take.

“You coming?” he smiles at you, wiggling his fingers, waiting for you to take his hand. 

When you do, you hold on to it like it's your lifeline, the only anchor you have in this unfamiliar territory. He leads you up two flights of stairs to the third floor and then down a large hallway filled with doors and golden crown molding.

He stops in front of a door before saying, “Well, this is you,” and moving your duffle bag back to your shoulder, letting his hand linger on your skin until he forces himself to pull away. 

“I’m right here across the hall if you need anything, alright?” he reassures you with a smile.

You nod at him, trying to process all of the new information you've just taken in, before putting your hand on the doorknob and turning away from him.

He calls out to you before you go inside, “Why don't you take an hour or so — take a shower, there's a bathroom attached to the suite — and then when you come down to the kitchen, we can get some snacks?”

You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes at him with a pout, “Is this your way of telling me I smell?”

His laughter fills the hallway. “No, I just want you to relax. This is your vacation too, ya know?” His smile is contagious and you can't help but smile back at him, really hoping that a shower will help as he says.

“Okay Daichi, I'll try.”

With that you enter the bedroom, closing the door behind you before resting your head on the wood, letting out a very small sigh.

You try to relax like Daichi said by taking a warm shower, but everything was way too nice. The grand marble shower and the elegant tile tub just serve to remind you that you are in a world different than your own, giving you more anxiety than relaxation. 

You manage to get through your shower: fiddling with all of the button options to turn the water off, grabbing a plush towel to dry off, and then changing into some of the clothes that you packed.

You head back out to the bedroom in a huff and take another look around, half expecting the room to have transformed into a new one completely, but you are glad that it's just as you left it. 

The massive four-poster bed sits against one wall next to the room's giant floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the afternoon light, casting long shadows on the fireplace gracing the opposite wall and the plush sitting area in front of it.

You flop yourself on the bed, arms stretching out and you curse at how comfortable the mattress is. 

Who would have guessed the handsome boy you met in your econ class was this filthy rich.

You don't want your brain to fantasize but your thoughts drift there anyways as you sit up to sort through your clothes; it dreams of a future where this could be all yours. It's not like you weren't dreaming about a future with Daichi before, but now you’re imagining paying off your student loans, using some money to help your struggling friends and family, or maybe going even bigger than that, like starting a business or a charity to really help people. 

You have to stop yourself from going too far. You shouldn’t spiral with these thoughts because that's the big issue: you and Daichi, what are you really?

You were instantly infatuated with him when he smiled at you during your first economics lecture together just a few months ago. Sitting next to each other, passing a notebook back and forth drawing little doodles together when you should have been paying attention. The chemistry between the two of you only grew when you started studying together and he invited you out to party with some of his friends. 

The two of you have even shared a few make-out sessions together at said parties, but the next day when you expected things to be awkward or to at least have a discussion about what it meant, Daichi always acted like everything was normal, like the two of you hadn't had your tongues down each other throats the night before. 

And that's not to mention how he always seems to be holding your hand, or hooking his arm around you, giving you butterflies at every turn. He always seems to be more touchy when other guys are around, but you can say that you do the same. Hugging him back tighter when other girls look his way.

In the beginning, the small touches and longing glances you shared in class slowly turned to long hugs and holding hands. You thought that maybe Daichi was this way with all of his friends, but when he introduced you to his roommates, Asahi and Sugawara, you noticed that he isn’t that touchy with them. It seems to be something only reserved for you.

You think of all the shared touches that you've had just today and your heart flutters. It's like when the two of you touch, your heart is instantly filled with happiness that calms your soul. His touch just feels right and being with him feels as easy as breathing.

If soulmates do exist, you can imagine that this is what it feels like. 

You let out a deep sigh, shaking away your thoughts, before you decide to make your way down to the kitchen to meet up with the others.

You follow the voices through the maze of corridors and staircases to the kitchen, thank god they are a noisy bunch. 

Everyone is gathering around the huge kitchen island, with bowls of chips, candy, and other snacks scattered around, and there seem to be two different conversations going on.

Daichi has his back to you, and you walk up next to him, putting your head on his shoulder. He looks down, throwing his arm around you, pulling you into his space more before whispering, “How was your shower?”

You wrap your arms around his waist before shrugging your shoulders, choosing to instead focus on the conversation that Tanaka and Kuroo are having. Daichi grabs a few of the bowls of snacks and pulls them closer to you, taking a big handful of food for himself.

Kuroo lets out a loud annoyed groan before explaining, “Oikawa just texted me that he’s going to dock here for the night.”

You sense the mounting tension in the air and take a handful of snacks, ready to take in whatever drama that was about to unfold.

The mention of the name you are unfamiliar with seems to bring the other conversation to a close as everyone focuses their attention on Kuroo and his phone. 

Daichi lets out an exasperated sigh. “I could have sworn I told him to keep that thing away from here,” he says, rubbing his hand down his face in annoyance. 

“He's bringing that party boat here? During gala week?” Kiyoko adds, blowing hair out of her face with a huff. 

“Eh, I'm not going to complain, it's always full of hot babes,” Tanaka says right before a smack lands on his chest from Kiyoko. He pulls her into him, playfully kissing her cheeks, “No one is hotter than you babe, you know that.”

She rolls her eyes at his response but seems to accept his apology.

Not having any idea about who or what they are talking about you pipe up, “Who’s coming?”

Daichi lets out a big sigh before explaining, “Oikawa is this guy we grew up with, he’s a big flirt with an even bigger yacht. It's pretty much a giant party boat that he fills with supermodels.” You can practically feel the way Daichi’s eyes roll at the notion of a party boat stacked to the nines with supermodels.

Bokuto moves to Daichi’s other side, leaning over the island looking around him at you with a wide smile and adds, “Not to mention the alcohol and drugs.”

“Yes, yes, Bokuto, we all know why you enjoy Oikawa’s visits,” Daichi retorts, shaking his head and laughing.

“He just texted again,” Kuroo says with an annoyed groan. “Says he's going to be docking in three hours.”

“Well, what do you guys want to do until he gets here?” Daichi asks, taking a big handful of pretzels from a bowl close to him.

“We could go for a race around the track,” Kuroo says with a devilish smile.

Bokuto lets out an excited yell before pointing at Kuroo and exclaiming, “Hell yeah, lets go!”

Everyone heads outside into the evening sun. The warmth that the sun provided during the afternoon seems to be fading, giving the air a slight chill. 

Kuroo and Bokuto run with their hands in the air from the house to their cars before starting them and speeding off towards the track while Daichi leads you, Tanaka, and Kiyoko to the large ten-car garage that spans the side of the house.

He opens a side door leading everyone into the garage, pressing a big button on the wall causing all of the garage doors to begin opening, filling the space with light.

Your eyes widen when you look at the millions of dollars worth of vehicles equally spaced with precision in front of you. While you recognize some brands: Lamborghini, Ferrari, Bugatti, and Mercedes, there are more that you don't, and your eyes glaze over at the pure wealth displayed in the garage.

Tanaka's excited voice pulls you from your haze as he practically jumps up and down in place, “Can we take the Bugatti?” he shouts questioningly, making you jump.

“Sure thing,” Daichi replies as he takes the keys to the Bugatti Veyron SS off the hook and tosses them to Kiyoko.

You watch her unlock the car and climb into the driver's seat as Tanaka jumps into the passenger seat next to her. The engine roars to life and she carefully pulls it out of the garage before she peels off towards the track, leaving you and Daichi alone in the garage. 

“So, do you see a car you like?” he questions, his eyes following the car as it barrels around a corner.

The first real time alone with him since landing here and he decides to ignore the elephant in the room? You wouldn’t be surprised if there was actually an elephant around here somewhere.

You ignore his question and turn to face him, “Dai, what the fuck. What is this place? How are you so rich?” 

“I'm not rich, my parents are,” he quickly retorts, turning to face you.

“That's exactly what a rich person would say,” you roll your eyes at him.

“I know you must feel pretty deceived right now; it was so nice when I was just Daichi to you, not the heir to this big conglomerate worth millions of dollars,” he walks close to you, moving to place his hands on your shoulders but stopping himself, and lets his hands fall to the side almost in defeat. 

“My dad is this huge businessman and he has all these women who throw themselves at him because of his money. He's never been in love, even when he was with my Mom, and I didn’t want that. I don't want that. I want to be in love. I want to marry someone I'm in love with and not because it is what has been decided for me.” 

Of course, he would have a real reason that you couldn't get mad at. And of course, it’s romantic as hell. At least he’s being open about it now.

You look up at him, and you realize that this is the same Daichi that he's always been. Those are the same eyes that you've been looking at for months, the same hands that have held you so many times, the same Daichi as always, just a different setting.

“You know I'm not like that Dai, you could have told me,” you reply, your voice softer than it was earlier.

He takes a step closer, his hands reaching out and rubbing away at the stress in your shoulders.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry that I kept this hidden from you. I should have told you.” He sighs, closing the remaining space between the two of you and moving his hands to cup your face. “I just want you to understand what getting into a full relationship with me would mean.”

The way Daichi is looking at you makes your heart melt. His eyes reach your face in desperation, half expecting you to push him away but you just lean into his hands, closing your eyes and savoring his touch before you match his vulnerable gaze.

“What would a full relationship mean then, Daichi?” you practically purr at him.

“It means all this,” he says before kissing you lightly. “All the fun stuff, the cars, the houses, the private jets,” he kisses you again. “But it also comes with a lot of not fun stuff too.”

You take a deep breath before responding, heart pounding from the intimacy of the moment. “And what would happen if I said that I still wanted a relationship with you? Even with the not-fun stuff.”

His breath hitches before he smiles. “I'd give you everything,” he whispers, eyes searching yours again, thumbs caressing your lips softly as he still cradles your face in his hands. “I'd buy you the moon if you wanted it.”

“Good thing I don't want the moon then.” You grab his shirt, closing the gap between the two of you before kissing him.

His hands fall to your hips before he starts to push you backwards towards the Ferrari behind you, until your ass hits the car, never disconnecting from the kiss.  

His lips feel warm on yours as you get swept away into the moment with him. Your lips moving in tandem before his tongue expertly sweeps out at your bottom lip. You let out a moan, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. 

His grip on your waist only gets harder when he starts to move his body against yours, rutting his hips against yours, letting out a small moan into your mouth.

If the two of you weren't so caught up in each other, you would have heard Kuroo pull up to the garage and step out of his car before just staring at the two of you locked in each other's embrace. He rests his cheek on his short car door before he reaches a hand inside his car to honk the horn. You and Daichi startle at the sound, pulling apart as Daichi sends Kuroo a death glare.

Kuroo lets out a loud laugh unaffected by Daichi’s glare. “Thanks for the show, but are we going to race or what?”

Daichi waves him off, looking back down at you, his eyes bouncing from your lips to your eyes, with a smirk, “Do you want to drive?”

You hear Kuroo drive away as you playfully smack Daichi’s chest before you exclaim, “God no!”

His eyes close as he chuckles at you, “Okay, fair. But which one do you want to take?”

You look around at the cars not really knowing too much about them, so you ask, “Which one is the fastest?”

He smirks at you and says, “That’s my girl,” before throwing an arm around your shoulder and grabbing the key for the white Koenigsegg Regera off the hook.

He walks you over to the passenger side of the car, opening the scissor door for you and watching you take a seat before pulling it closed and jogging to his side, getting in the car. 

The brown leather of the interior is a stark contrast to the white of the outside paint, and you find your body being cradled in the expensive bucket seat. Daichi leans over you, grabbing your seat belt and buckling it for you, bringing his face inches away from yours, teasing you before he buckles his own seat.

He pulls out of the garage slowly before putting the pedal to the floor and driving off towards the airstrip, racing around a few tight corners before he drives towards the runway where the other three cars are already lined up. 

Bokuto jumps off of his side fender when he sees you and Daichi approach and makes his way inside his car with an excited spring in his step. Kiyoko kisses Tanaka before making her way into her borrowed car and Kuroo, who was sitting cross-legged on the roof of his car watches the two of you pull up before jumping down and walking towards you.

Daichi meticulously lines up the front wheels with the other cars, before letting the engine idle, rolling down the window to talk to Kuroo.

When the rooster-haired man leans down to talk into the window, you don't miss his glance at you, before his eyes dart back to Daichi, and a small dusting of pink appears on his cheeks.

“We've decided we're doing a mile drag, first to cross the line wins, the loser has to make dinner and wash the dishes,” Kuroo announces.

Daichi looks over to you, intertwining your fingers and bringing them up to lips, kissing your knuckles, and a determined look crosses his face, his mouth turning up on the corner in a smirk. “Winner gets to pick what's for dinner, so you better decide what you want.”

His competitive side is something that you rarely see, usually only coming out when he's challenged, and the charged air around him has heat pooling between your legs. 

Daichi lets your hand go and starts going through the settings of the car, setting up the launch control, mumbling to himself as he remembers how to set it up, as Kuroo heads back to his car.

You hear the roar of the other engines as they come to life and look through Daichi’s window at the other drivers, all giving thumbs up, ready to start.

Before Daichi gives his thumbs-up, he turns to you, “Just keep your head back, alright?”

You give him a worried look, but comply, placing the back of your head on the headrest behind you. You're concerned about what to do with your hands so you decide to place them in your lap.

Daichi gives the thumbs up and rolls his window up, giving the engine a few revs before hovering his foot over the gas in wait.

You watch as a now shirtless Tanaka walks out in between the cars. You can barely hear him as he starts to count down from five, but when he gets to one, he starts waving his shirt in the air wildly and Daichi slams on the gas.

The world starts to blur as the car accelerates. The loud roar of the engine assaults your ears as your heart starts to beat faster from the sudden adrenaline rush. 

Time seems to slow as you go faster. You watch the speedometer increase: 60, 80,100, 120 and it’s still climbing.

The noise of the air rushes past as the car seamlessly cuts through and you feel your heart beating in your throat. 

You look over at Daichi to see a big smile on his face; he knows he’s winning and you take the time to look back as Kuroo is being passed by Kiyoko, and she's getting closer to Daichi.

You let out a laugh: the crazy speeds and all the adrenaline pumping through making your body seem like it's on fire.

You glance at the speedometer and watch it hit 240 mph before you and Daichi cross the finish line first and he slams on the brakes. You are very glad you listened to him about keeping your head back, or else you're sure you would have whiplash.

Daichi stops the car, putting it in park before turning to look at you, your eyes full of bewilderment as your body tries to process the fact that you're in one piece after such a rush. 

“Holy shit Dai! You won! We won! That was amazing!” you exclaim frantically to a smiling Daichi, laughing along with you as you stammer on about how fast it was. 

The other cars form a circle with the hoods facing each other, and you watch as everyone starts to get out.

Daichi nods his head towards the others, “Come on, let’s go gloat.”

Everyone sits or leans against the hood of their cars, and Daichi once again has you tucked under his arm. You laugh along with the group and their antics as they argue over the standings. The official decision was that Daichi won, which was unanimous, with Kiyoko taking second, followed by Kuroo and Bokuto. 

Bokuto said something about his launch control was being finicky before all of you hear whooping and yelling coming from a very out-of-breath Tanaka. He had apparently started running after the cars had left and was just now reaching the group.

Everyone is in high spirits as you talk for a bit and you seem to mesh seamlessly with them, throwing out a few quips that make Bokuto and Kuroo snort, teaming up with Kiyoko when the boys get too rowdy. It almost seems like you're not the new person in the group, that you’ve known them forever, and you are really happy that Daichi has surrounded himself with great people.

The rest of the evening was spent driving the cars and having long chats afterwards, about nothing and everything all at once. 

When it came time for dinner, since you and Dai were the winners, you got to decide what Bokuto was making for everyone. His attempt at your favorite dish left the kitchen filled with smoke and Daichi surprised everyone with pizza, even before talks of a back up plan for was discussed.

Then you heard the horn of a ship, followed by mixed reactions as the five of you clear up dinner and get ready to leave the mansion for the ‘sex ferry,’ as Bokuto called it.

Daichi gets closer to you and murmurs into your hair, “Watch out for pervs on the boat, stay close to me, yeah?” You nod, as you wrap your arm around his ready to leave.

That is, until Kiyoko stops Daichi before the two of you make it out the door, “I’m stealing her for a second, she can't go on a yacht dressed like that!”

You look yourself over in the mirror and you have to admit, Kiyoko did an excellent job dressing you up.

Your hair is perfectly styled and your face has just the right amount of makeup. Kiyoko crosses in front of the mirror applying the finishing touch: a shimmering lip gloss that is the perfect shade for you. The oversized, white knit sweater that she had you put on hangs loosely over your curves, tucked in perfectly into the brown skirt that she picked out for you. It's not a look that you would usually go for, but you have to give her credit, she did a good job, you look stunning.

On the way up to this ginormous closet, she had explained to you that Daichi’s sisters had this closet stocked with every size and designer label known to man, just in case any of their friends needed a last minute change of clothes. 

At first, you didn't believe her, but when you saw the enormous room with a rainbow of color-coordinated clothes hanging from floor to ceiling you changed your tune. You were even more shocked to find that all of the clothes still had their price tags on, wincing at the $1,000 price of one pair of pants.

Kiyoko gives you one last glance over before she starts to get herself ready, dressing in a black long-sleeved dress, the hem of the skirt falling just at her thighs and fishnet stockings, the exact opposite of the aesthetic she chose for you. 

She applies her red lipstick with a pop before turning to you, “Well, what do you think?’

She takes your hand and twirls you around so that you are facing the mirror before she rests her chin on your shoulder.

You laugh at her antics, before replying, “I think we look hot!”

The two of you make your way down to the boat, exiting the mansion through a side door and make your way down to the dock.

Now that you are up close to the boat, you can see the massive amount of people on board. The four decks are filled to the brim with people dancing, talking, and making out, all with various drinks in their hands, and you can see Aoba Johsai written in cursive on the side of the boat.

The two of you step onboard and you hear him before you see him, “Kiyoko, over here!”

Tanaka is calling out for her through the crowd of people, leaning along the railing of the boat, dressed in all black and holding two beers.

She makes her way through the crowd with you close behind. Tanaka wraps her in his arms, kissing her on the cheek.

“Looking good babe,” he growls into her ear as she takes one of the beers from his hand.

The two of them look like they are about to start making out with all of their flirty touches, and you would like to find Daichi as soon as possible so you clear your throat and ask, “Do you know where Daichi is?”

“He's usually in the second-floor pool room; it’s up the stairs, second door on the right,” Tanaka replies while gesturing toward the stairway back by where you just came from.

You nod and take your leave, making your way to the stairs, bumping into people on the crowded deck. After the first few steps, you look back at Kiyoko, wondering if she’s coming with you. Too late, you think as you watch Tanaka pull her hips closer to his, whisper into her ear, and start kissing down her neck.

You shake your head and continue on, happy that she's having fun, but wishing you still had her company by your side. 

At the top of the stairs, you only see one door that opens to an empty hallway. You decide to take your luck with it, even if this isn't the right place, it's a nice space to take a breather from all the people. 

You open the door and what you thought was a quiet hallway turns out to be an echo chamber for the bass echoing off the walls. Where is the music even coming from; you barely heard it outside?

Leaning against the wall, you take a few deep breaths, which are immediately interrupted by the smell of cigar smoke wafting towards you. Part of you wants to leave but the other part of you says stay, stay for him. 

This is so much to process, you can already feel a migraine coming on. The smell of cigar smoke and the thumping bass echoing off the walls of the ship isn't helping your stress levels. Where is Daichi? This would be so much easier if he would just appear by your side magically.

The door you just came through opens and shuts with a squeak, and you hope that your prayers have been answered, but when you turn to look at the person who just joined your space, it is very much not Daichi.

His blonde hair and very noticeable tongue ring are the farthest from Daichi as you can get, and you really wish that you weren't in this hallway alone with him right now.

He makes his way closer to you, getting in your personal space, leaning one arm against the wall next to your head to look you up and down, before licking his lips.

“Hey baby girl, are you lost?”  

You start to look for an exit as he moves closer to you. “No, I'm just looking for someone,” you reply.

His arms cage you in, not giving you any room to move away. “Aw, don't be like that, I can show you a good time too,” he insists. “The name's Yūji Terushima, you'll need to know it when you're screaming it out later.”

You try to move away from him but he won't let you pass, until you hear a door open. 

Daichi comes out of one of the side rooms and the instant he sees you trapped by this man, his eyes turn red with anger.

He rushes over to the two of you, yelling out, “Hey! Get off of her!”

Terushima isn't quick enough to respond, turning to face Daichi, but Daichi is already at his side sending his fist flying towards the blond's nose with a mean right hook. 

Your body sags with relief as Daichi pulls you into his arms and Terushima is on the floor withering in pain, gasping at his probably broken nose.

Daichi is frantically looking over you, checking your arms and face for any sort of harm, “Did he touch you? Are you okay?” he questions you rapidly.

You bury your face in his chest and nod, “Yeah, I'm ok.”

He puts his arms around you before pulling you away towards the door he just came from.  “We're down here,” he says, glaring at Terushima covered in his blood on the floor, leading you away from him.

The room that Daichi was in is stuffed full of people. People line the walls, getting very personal with each other, while others sit on the couches in the center of the room with people pulled onto their laps or under their arms. There are two pool tables on either side of the couches and you spot Kuroo and Bokuto playing what looks like a game of strip pool with four girls, and, from the looks of it, they are losing badly. On the other end of the room is a large bar, with glass bottles lining shelves behind it and a few empty bar stools.

Daichi chooses to ignore his almost naked friends and heads towards the bar, pulling out a stool for you before taking the seat next to you.

The bartender has very fluffy brown hair with matching brown eyes and once he's done serving up drinks to the couple down the bar, he makes his way over to you.

He starts to gather a glass for Daichi without even asking him what he wanted and then looks at you expectantly, “Well cutie, what can I get for you?”

Daichi levels his gaze at the man, and you can feel the deep grumble vibrate from his chest before he turns to you, “This,” he gestures to the bartender, “is Oikawa.”

Oikawa gives you a wink before scurrying out of Daichi’s reach as he playfully tries to grab him, causing Daichi to let out a huff. 

With the weird environment you're in, you think it's best to forgo alcohol, at least for now, so you ask Oikawa for water.

He hands you a glass with lots of ice in it and you watch the way the two of them interact. Their friendship looks to be built on a bed of mutual annoyance, but you can see how they care about each other hidden in the undertones of their speech. 

The night goes on and you spend a lot of it with Oikawa and Daichi at the bar. Oikawa asks you lots of personal questions, some of which you choose to ignore, and some of them you indulge him a little. If Daichi trusts him, it's okay for you too, right?

Just as your ass is starting to hurt from the barstool, a younger man comes up to Daichi, his orange hair bouncing in the wind as he practically vibrates in place. You catch his name, Hinata, and some of what he's trying to explain. There seems to be trouble between him and another guy, and he came to Daichi to be the mediator. 

You can't blame him; in fact, if you were having any sort of trouble, Daichi's the first person that you would seek out. Daichi is so strong and dependable, he makes the rest of the world feel safe and easy. It's not that he makes problems go away but he seems to take in the situation for what it is and find a solution that seems so blatantly obvious you can't believe that no one else thought of it first.

Daichi is that and so much more. His playfulness and competitiveness are something that you saw today when he was driving that car. Not to mention how hot he looked behind the wheel, his arms muscles were on full display and you barely even got the chance to stare at them. You think about going back in time just so that you could watch them flex as he gripped the steering wheel.

You shake your head, trying to pull your brain away from the horny thoughts, but all that manages to do is send you back to the memories of your hot makeout session in the garage earlier. How his hands were all over your body, his lips pressed to yours...

Daichi’s laugh pulls you from your daydream and you realize that he, Hinata and Oikawa are all staring at you. His hand is waving in front of your face, “Earth to Y/N.”

Your shocked expression tells you everything he needs to know so he repeats himself, putting his hand on your knee, “You good here for a minute? I gotta help Hinata with something.” You nod at him and the two walk off together.

Oikawa talks to you in between serving people drinks and you manage to have a decent conversation about your university studies. Turns out, he is studying a major very similar to yours.

Oikawa pulls his phone out and answers it, before putting it down on his shoulder, turning to you, “I have to take this, I’ll have one of my boys take you to Daichi.”

He turns to one of the nearby couches close to the bar before barking out, “Mattsun, take her out to where Daichi is. I have some shit to deal with.”

The man he called out to kisses the blonde sitting on his lap before moving her off of him so that he can help you find Daichi. His tall body leads you out onto the deck of the boat through hordes of drunk people dancing and making out until you spot an orange mess of hair and Daichi standing next to him.

As you get closer you notice a small, but rather important detail that you couldn't see when you were farther away, Daichi is surrounded by tall, skinny, gorgeous-looking supermodels, and all of them seem to have their hands on him.

Daichi seems not to notice the touches, he's too focused on a boy with black hair laying upside down on a lounge chair, his hair softly caressing the wooden deck with every small gust of wind. 

You notice another woman start to touch his hair before Daichi swats her away like she’s a fly before he's kneeling to look at the chair guy again. 

Mattsun leads you closer to Daichi, announcing your arrival before saying his goodbyes and heading back where he came from. You yell out thanks as he is leaving and he waves his hand in the air as he walks away.

Daichi stands from his kneeling position and moves to your side. He has to get closer to your ear to talk as you are now closer to wherever the loud music is coming from but you don't mind, wrapping your arms around his waist possessively, eyeing the other girls.

“Kageyama had too much to drink, he's absolutely wasted,” Daichi says loudly, making sure you can hear him over the bumping bass.

You wished you would have grabbed your water before you left the bar. Just when you're about to suggest someone go get him some water, Oikawa bursts out onto the deck from a side door, exclaiming, “That little shit!” before running off towards the upper decks. You see that he's being followed by Mattsun, the guy who just helped you, and two other men, one with spiky black hair and the other with short pink hair. They all look extremely pissed.

You hear the sound of helicopter blades before you feel a blast of wind, causing the water to start rippling around the boat. You look curiously up at Daichi before he's turning and barking orders to Hinata to get the drunk guy some water and crackers before he's grabbing your hand.

“There's only one man that could be, and we better go make sure Oikawa doesn't kill him.”

By the time you two make it to the upper deck where the helipad is, there already seems to be a standoff in place. A tall man with dark olive hair stands with a large briefcase tucked under the arm of his suit coat. He does not look like he's dressed for a party, but instead like he's about to go into a courtroom.

This new man's face is void of emotion as Oikawa is practically snarling at him, lip upturned like an angry dog.

Daichi runs between the two warring factions, putting up his hands to Oikawa before turning to the tall man.

But before Daichi can say anything Oikawa is yelling over his head, “Who said you could land here, get lost!”

The tall man completely ignores Oikawa, walking up to Daichi, “Ah, Sawamura, just the man I was hoping to see.”

Oikawa's face turns red with anger, if this was an anime you are sure that there would be steam coming out of his head.

Daichi looks at him quizzically, “All this just to see me? Should we go talk in private?”

Ushijima gives him a confirming grunt, nodding his head and Daichi leads him around Oikawa and his men, stopping to whisper something in Oikawa's ear, looking at you, before making his way over to you.

His hand cups your face and you nuzzle into them as he speaks, “I have to go talk to Ushijima. Oikawa said he'll watch out for you so stay here until I get back alright?”

You don't want to leave his side again, but this must be important if a guy is willing to land on what seems to be his mortal enemy's boat only to talk to Daichi. You give him a small pout before you nod, and he kisses you before turning and jogging after the mysterious Ushijima.

Oikawa throws his hands up into the air making his way over to a bar. Damn, he really has these things on every level, doesn't he?

This bar is smaller than the one in the pool room, and only has two stools, but there is a long couch next to it where his men sit down. He motions for you to take a seat at the bar as he starts pouring drinks for the other three, before offering to do the same for you. Taking him up on his offer this time he makes you both matching fruity drinks with cute umbrellas before he joins you, sitting at the barstool next to you.

Oikawa still seems to be on edge from his confrontation with Ushijima, or the lack of one, so the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a bit. You watch some of the party-goers stumble around on the lower decks, and you see women and men come up to talk to the three sitting on the couches. You pick up their names after a bit — Iwaizumi, Makki, and Mattsun, are what everyone calls them — and you eventually watch Mattsun get pulled away by the busty blonde you saw him with earlier.

Oikawa seems to pull himself out of his mental slump when he finishes his drink while you've only been sipping on yours, so you are nowhere near close to finishing it. He makes his way back over to the bar side and washes his cup before he starts making another concoction for himself.

He breaks his silence, “So, you and Daichi are pretty cute together.”

You hum at him in agreement, taking another small sip of your drink.

He continues, “He must be pretty serious about you if he's bringing you all the way out here. He's never brought a girl here before.”

Daichi and you haven't talked about your past relationships, but you aren't really surprised to hear that with what he told you earlier about wanting to be in love.

You don't want to pry, but you do want to know more. This side of Daichi’s life is still a mystery to you. 

“Not even one girl?” you ask him in all sincerity.

Oikawa smirks, glad that he caught your attention with that one. “Well, he did date a girl from our neck of the woods, if that's what you want to call us rich shits. She was hot and smart but they never really seemed to mesh.”

You give him a curious look so he continues, “She was all business, no heart. And you know Daichi, his heart is ten times too big. They just didn't work.”

You nod taking in your new information before you feel someone next to you, the man with the pink hair, Makki. 

He opens his mouth before he leans on the bar to stabilize himself, the alcohol apparently starting to kick in. His words are slurred together. “Are you two talking about Daichi? I heard some models say they would pay $10,000 to lick one of his thigh muscles!”

Oikawa pushes the drunken Makki off the bar and he stumbles back to the couch before slumping over into a woman's cleavage.

“Don't mind him,” Oikawa says, trying to bring back the lighter mood from earlier. “He doesn't know what he's talking about.”

Oh, but you do know what he’s talking about. You've been avoiding the thoughts since you landed, but now there's no holding back the dark thoughts you've been trying to suppress. 

How are you supposed to be good enough for him? For Daichi and his big heart? You've seen it so much tonight, the way he laughs and takes care of his friends, like it’s second nature, coming easier than breathing for him. He's so caring, compassionate, fun and you're just you. 

How are you supposed to compete for his attention when you are up against literal supermodels? 

You swipe at frustrated tears forming in the corner of your eyes before speaking to Oikawa, “Can you tell Daichi I’m gonna go back to the house, I'm tired. But it was nice to meet you.”

You were very much not tired. This was the most wide-awake you have felt in quite some time. Your mind races with all the things that are wrong about the situation you find yourself in. You would laugh at how being on a billionaire’s floating sex boat is what made you feel this insecure if you weren’t feeling so pathetic.

You find your way off the boat with ease, pushing past people grinding on each other to get back to the dock so you can make your way to the safety of your bedroom. 

As you get to the house’s side door you hear a familiar voice calling out your name.

Turning around, you see Daichi running up the path you just took, before he stops next to you, out of breath. 

“Did you sprint all the way up here?” you ask him.

“Yeah…” he pants out in between breaths. “I wanted ... to catch you.”

“I told Oikawa I was going to bed, it’s been a long day and —,” you try to explain but he interrupts you. 

“Are you actually tired?”

You are fidgeting with your hands, not wanting to lie to him, “Well, not exactly...”

“Come somewhere with me.” It flows out of his mouth like a demand but you can see the question in his eyes as they gleam in the darkness. You look at him quizzically before he continues, “Don't worry, no one else is gonna be there.”

Your lips turn in a small smile at his statement, “Just us?”

He takes your hands, placing them both between his own and brings them to his lips, giving your knuckles a light kiss. He keeps them there when he replies, “Yes, just us. I promise.”

You think for a minute, and then give him a hesitant yes. 

His face lights up, “Okay, let's get some supplies.”

He takes your hand, pulling you into the kitchen, grabbing the snacks you like, and a nice chilled glass of water along with two glasses before motioning to a cupboard, telling you to grab the best blankets. 

When you rub the blankets on your skin to test which ones are softer, Daichi smirks at you. 

“Cute,” he says before making his way over to you, “but make sure you grab one of the big sturdy ones too.”

He grabs a basket for all the stuff and wraps you in one of the soft blankets before heading to the elevator that was tucked away in the corner of the kitchen.

“An elevator, really?” you grin at him, your earlier frustration easing away the more time you spend with him and his smile.

“To be fair, it was installed before we bought the house, but my grandma does use it a lot.”

The two of you ride the elevator to the top floor where Daichi starts running a hand along the wall looking for something. When a secret door pops open, he laughs at your shocked expression before motioning you to follow him inside.  

A hidden staircase leads the two of you up to the roof and you take in the sight of the grounds. You can see the race track where you spent your evening, the large yacht floating below filled with people still bumping away to the music, and the stars... You swear that you've never seen the stars shine so bright before. You can see them weaving patterns in the night sky, their stories unknown to you but you enjoy their beauty nonetheless.

When you look over at Daichi, his eyes are soft as they trace your features, and you love the way his gaze makes you feel.

He leads you out to a small section of the roof near the middle of the house where he lays the thick blanket on the ground, setting out the snacks and taking off his shoes before sitting down on the blanket, patting the spot next to him as you take off your shoes and join him.

The two of you sit together, eating snacks, sharing stories for a while, staring up at the night sky together, before he turns to you with a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Let's play a game,” he proposes.

You look him over and nod, waiting for him to explain the game.

“It's easy, just ask me anything, whatever you need answered and I won't hold anything back.” He seems very confident, obviously wanting to make himself an open book after keeping this big secret from you. There are so many things you could ask, you don’t know where to start. 

You raise an eyebrow at him before asking, “What is the worst decision you've ever made?”

He rolls his head to look you in the eyes, before raising his eyebrows at you, “Going right for the hard-hitting questions then?”

“You said you'd answer Daichi, are you gonna take that back?” you say with a little smirk.

He thinks for a moment before replying. “Fine,” He says before rolling his eyes, “I let Bokuto give me a tattoo once when we were both drunk.”

He sees your quizzical eyes as you try to suppress your laughter, “It’s on my ass and it’s a smiley face. Stop laughing!”

You can't stop the laughter that comes from you as you imagine your big strong Daichi with a funky little tattoo on his ass cheek. You are wiping the tears out of your eyes as he takes his opportunity for revenge.

“Okay, my turn!” he exclaims, rubbing his hands together.

You have to stop laughing so hard so that you can retort, “Wait, wait, you never said that I would have to answer too!”

He smiles and shakes his head, laughing. “Yeah, I guess you're right. How about I get to ask you a question for every two questions you ask me? And you don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

You look at him questioningly and you are very curious as to what Daichi would want to know about you so badly he’s willing to put himself on the line first. “Sounds fun,” you smile. 

“Good, what's your second question?”

“What were you talking about with that guy, Ushijima?”

He looks uncomfortable as he tries to think about how to answer you. “Well, he mostly just saw Oikawa's boat and wanted to annoy him,” he chuckles before continuing. “But he also wanted to talk about a deal that our fathers are trying to make to secure our family ties. It's something that we both are very against.”

His answer leaves you with more questions, “What do you mean, ‘family ties’?”

He smoothly switches from his uncomfortable state and offers you a coy smile, “Do you want that to be your next question, sweetheart?”

Rolling your eyes at him you respond, “Ugh, no.”

“Okay, good because I really don't want to think about it. My turn then.” He thinks for a second before asking, “Do you think this,” he gestures into the air, “is too much for you? You know, the cars, boats, houses, money?”

You pause to gather your thoughts, staring up at the night sky again.

“I think that it's a lot to take in all at once,” you say slowly, calculating each word before it comes out of your mouth. “Especially the sex party boat,” you chuckle, “But I could get used to it.” You let the ‘for you’ hang in the air unspoken. 

He grabs your hand, looking up to the stars, “I’m glad. Okay, what's your next question?”

You don't want to ruin the mood and ask about the ‘family ties’ between his and Ushijima’s families, so instead, you choose a safer route. 

“What was it like growing up?”

He seems taken aback at first before a simple smile adorns his face, “My parents didn't love each other, not really. They had me, and then my brothers and sisters, but when times got hard they didn't support each other. They divorced pretty early in my life, I was still a kid when it happened.”

He pauses when you squeeze his hand in reassurance, but he's still smiling as he continues, “They split the companies between them, got us a nanny, and we bounced back and forth between houses every few months. I eventually just ended up as the caretaker for my siblings, making sure they didn't turn into spoiled brats.”

His laugh at the last part is so genuine it makes your heart flutter, but even so, his life has been far from perfect. “Wow, Daichi, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It wasn't that bad, I got to have a lot of fun.” He shakes off your concerned look before he gets to ask his question, “My turn again. What was it like for you growing up?”

You explain to him about your family dynamic, watching how his eyes seem to light up when you make jokes and then fall when you mention your hardships. He squeezes your hand like he never wants to let go when you finish telling him your stories, a playful smile returning to his lips before he tells you to ask your next set of questions. 

You think of what to ask next, and your face grows hot as your brain churns up a question that you have never talked about with Daichi before. 

Your tongue stumbles as the words flow from your mouth, “Have you had sex before?”

He tries to suppress his smile, “Yeah a few times, not with anyone really special though.”

Your lips part in surprise and you find yourself asking in a breathless tone, “What’s your number?”

Daichi leans closer to you, erasing the distance between your bodies as his hands move up the skin on your exposed thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake, “Is that your next question?”

You're breathless, the heat from his fingers distracting you from the fire brewing inside you,  “Yeah, it is.”

Daichi’s lips are so close to your own you can feel his breath on your soft skin, his voice dipping an octave when he asks, “Why, do you want to be one of them?”

You clear your mind enough to retort back at him. “Is that your next question?” you say, brushing your nose against his teasingly.

“Yes,” he answers before his breath hitches in his throat as you move your hands to his thighs.

“You first,” you giggle as his cheeks turn a bright shade of pink.

He answers as quickly as possible, his words almost too fast to hear but his tone is so low it sends shockwaves straight to your core. “It’s four, Laney in high school, this girl Kay at a party, Hime my ex and then Jackie in college a year ago. Your turn.”

Your mind clouds with his scent as you bring your hands up to his chest. Why is he so hot when talking about other people he's fucked, and why aren't you more jealous? 

“I- uh, yeah. I would love to be your number five,” you stammer out. 

He smirks at you, both of you are very obviously in need of each other's touch, more than you were getting and you can't deny how good it feels to have his undivided attention like this. Something about Daichi makes you forget your sense of self, and his touch instantly sends your heart racing.

“Do you have any more questions, sweetheart?”

You nod, biting your lip, “Are you going to kiss me, Dai?”

He nods before his eyes search yours. The stars tonight are reflected in his dark irises and you swear that you could get lost in him if you looked long enough. 

Daichi moves closer to you at an agonizingly slow pace, and you savor the electricity that is simmering in the distance. It's enough to have your heart skip a beat before he closes the gap.

His lips meet yours and it's slow at first. His touch and kiss are reminiscent of the way that stars seemingly burn for eons until they can't take any more heat and explode in a fury of passion.

You grab the collar of his shirt, bringing him impossibly closer to you, wanting to erase any remaining space between the two of you. You seemingly throw him off his balance as he almost falls on top of you. You can feel him smile into the kiss before he starts to reposition your body with his big, strong hands. 

Daichi sits back, before pulling your body into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist before continuing the kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip and you moan at the contact, allowing him access, while you snake your hands into his hair, giving his roots a slight tug to get him to kiss you harder.

More. You need more.

His hands move up your body from your hips with a slow drag of his fingertips up to your neck, cradling your head in his hands, angling your head to kiss you deeper. 

Your body burns at the contact with him, your soul reaching out for his through your kiss. Hearts melting and colliding into one supernova as your lips push and pull against each other. This heat that ignites within you that only he can seem to control, grows and grows until you feel like you're going to go insane if you don't touch him more soon. 

Grinding your hips down on him, you can feel how much he is enjoying this, and you can't help but smile when he lets out a small whine into your mouth. Kissing him harder you start to move your hips against his as he ruts up into you at the same time. The delicious friction you've been craving but it's not enough, you need more.

His mind must have melded with yours because he stops kissing you, pulling away with your bottom lip caught between his teeth until you let out a small gasp. 

“Pretty girl, tell me you want this,” he asks breathlessly.

You feel your cunt clench at his praise, needing more from him, needing everything. 

“Dai, I want all of you.”

His breath hitches in his throat, and his eyes take in the sight of you on top of him with the endless backdrop of stars above you. 

The look he's giving you melts any remaining pieces of your heart into a giant puddle, his eyes are soft and a small smile is on his lips as he whispers, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

You rest your forehead on his, looking him in the eyes and reply, “me too.”

He smiles at you bigger and you can't imagine feeling any happier than you are right now, his eyes crinkle in happiness before he buries his face into your chest, wrapping around you and hugging you with a huge amount of strength. 

You let him hold you like that for a few seconds before the need growing in your stomach becomes unbearable.

You move your hands to cradle his head, pulling him from your chest so that you can look at him. His eyes are half-lidded looking up at you in awe, like he can’t believe that you're here with him on his lap.

“Daichi,” you practically purr, “please, fuck me.”

His eyes flutter at your words, and he bites his lip. He looks like he's fighting some sort of internal battle.

Before you can register his movement, the world is tilting on its axis, and your back is now on the soft blanket. His strong arms caging you under him and your legs are around his waist as he leans over you.

You can see why he was staring up at you earlier, he looks heavenly with the night sky as his backdrop. The soft glow from the house illuminating his features and he looks beautiful and so fucking sexy. 

His eyes land on your lips and you watch as one corner of his mouth tilts up in satisfaction at your reaction to him. 

“Aw, my girl thinks I'm sexy,” he says, nuzzling his nose against yours as he taunts you.

You can't believe you said that out loud, but it's true so you nod, worried what else will come out of your mouth if you choose to open it. 

He leans down so that he is right next to your ear and he growls, “I think she’s fucking sexy too.” 

He gives your earlobe a small nip before he starts kissing your neck. You turn your head, giving him more room, and he takes full advantage of it, tracing his tongue along your pulse before moving his lips against your skin. His lips search your neck until he finds that spot that makes you gasp, and then he focuses all his attention there, biting it lightly before his tongue swipes away the sting. 

You moan for him, moving your hand to his hair, gathering some between your fingers before he sucks hard. Your hips jut up, grinding on him in pleasure, and both of you moan into each other as your clothed cunt brushes against his hard cock.

“I’ve been so fucking hard for you since our kiss earlier.” His mouth kisses down to your shoulder which is still covered by your sweater. “Do you want my mouth or my fingers?”

His hands make their way under your sweater and over the skin of your stomach, before teasing your nipples through your bra and you let out a gasp when he gives one of them a squeeze, a warning for you not answering him.

“I asked you a question, answer me,” he says in a stern voice that sends shivers down your spine and makes your eyes flutter.

Your mind tries to calculate a response, as the assault on your nipples increases, sending shocks of pleasure right to your core.

Unable to focus on anything but how his fingers feel on your skin as he trails a hand down your body, “your fingers, please” you moan out for him.

He leans back and pushes your skirt up around your hips before he starts to tease his fingers along the cloth covering your core. 

His gaze on you makes you want to cover yourself up, but when you move to close your legs, his hand grabs your knee and pushes you back open for him.

He uses both of his hands to pull your underwear down, staring at the string of slick that connects them and your soaked folds. He tosses them somewhere over his shoulder, before taking in the sight before him. The cold night air meets your warm cunt and sends shivers up your spine, but the cold is quickly replaced with the heat of Daichi’s warm hands on your thighs.

“God, you're beautiful,” he groans, as he watches your cunt flutter around nothing at the depth of his voice. Fingers moving back to your slit, teasing your folds before he moves his fingers up to circle your clit.

You let out a gasp when he finally touches you where you've been needing him. Your hips jut up in search of more contact. 

He teases his fingers through your folds before sliding one into you. You can feel how wet you are and it makes your face heat up but he feels so good inside you, you don't care.

He thrusts his finger into you a few times before adding a second, watching your face morph into pleasured bliss before focusing his attention on the way your walls are trying to suck him inside.

Your hands move to your chest, kneading the flesh there as he increases his pace, finger-fucking you until he finds the spot that makes you scream.

The pleasure in your body continues to build as he focuses all his attention on that one spot. Your nerves are all on fire and you can feel the building pressure, just waiting to be released. Daichi is making you feel so alive, his fingers working magic on your body, weaving their way into your soul and imprinting his mark there where it can never leave.

All of the muscles in your body tense and you hear Daichi say, “cum for me,” before the coil inside you snaps and your body convulses in pleasure, singing out his name in praise as he sends you to the stars. His voice and fingers still work you over, sending more pleasure into your system before you feel yourself gush around his fingers, your body almost folding in on itself as you grab at his wrist to hold him still inside of you. 

Your breath comes out in short bursts as you relax onto the blanket with him still kneeling between your legs. When you look up at him, he has the cockiest smile on his face, obviously proud of himself.

You weakly smile and nod at him, hoping that he understands that he just sent you into orbit before you stretch out your hands for him. 

He reaches out, and you pull him down on top of you. You kiss him roughly and he eagerly ruts his hips into you, moaning into your mouth when he can feel your wetness seeping through his pants.

You reach down between your bodies, unbuckling his belt and undoing the button on his pants. You try to get to his cock, but with the angle you're at and his boxers getting in the way, you can't seem to reach, and you let out a small whine. 

Daichi seems to understand, and he pushes his pants and boxers down past his thighs, giving you the perfect view of his cock. 

It makes your mouth water and you want to taste him so bad. Your hands move to stroke him, gathering the precum that leaks onto your fingers before you pop them into your mouth, lapping up the flavor eagerly.

You moan at the taste, sucking on your fingers, wishing they were his cock. You vow to yourself to take him down your throat and have him at your mercy before the end of this trip.

Daichi’s hand pumps his shaft a few times before he runs the tip through your folds, gathering your slick, before circling your clit with the head of his cock. 

You moan at how thick and heavy he feels against your soft folds. “Please Dai. I need you so bad, please, fuck me.”

He lets out a groan. “When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?”

He lets go of his cock, and moves his hands up to hold yours, interlocking your fingers together before his lips connect to yours in a hungry kiss. He holds eye contact with you as he slowly moves his hips into position as the head of his cock slowly presses into you.

You watch him bite his lip as he fights the urge to buck into you, his half-lidded eyes concentrating on your face, watching your mouth form into a beautiful ‘o’ and your eyes flutter as he pushes more of himself inside you. 

When his hips are flush against yours, he stills, wanting to give you time to get used to his girth. He can't help but savor the way your walls are squeezing him and sucking him into you. You give him a slow nod before he starts moving again, slowly pulling out of you and before pushing back in with more power.

You can't help but dig your nails into the back of his hands, forming crescent-shaped indents. The way his cock hits all of the spots inside of you perfectly has you questioning if this is a dream, but the way he sounds and looks as he moves above you is something so hot that your brain could never imagine it this perfectly.

His lips scatter kisses along your jaw until he's at your neck again, savoring the feel of your still tender flesh against his tongue. He’s taking his time focusing on leaving his mark at the top of your collarbone, sucking and nipping at your skin.

His head falls to your shoulder and his breath turns uneven as he pants out, “if you keep squeezing me like that I'm not gonna last,” in between thrusts.

You aren't going to last either, the coil in your stomach is already dangerously close to snapping again.

“Da-Daddy,” you moan, completely lost in your pleasure.

He pauses above you with his cock still fully sheathed in your dripping cunt, his head snapping up off your shoulder to look into your eyes, his brow furrowing. “What did you just call me?”

It takes a second for your mind to process what you just said. His hips being completely still as his cock continues to stretch you is not helping your brain processes. 

And then it hits you, why did you just say that, oh no. “I’m sorry it slipped out — I’m so —” you panic, stopping when you realize he is shaking his head with a gleam in his eyes you haven’t seen before.

Daichi angles his hips before thrusting into you at an even harder and rougher pace. “Say it again,” he commands, each word accentuated by a heavy thrust.

You bite your lip as the pleasure takes over you once again as he pounds into you. The sheer strength he has is evident in the power behind each thrust.

You can't help yourself when you start babbling out a mixture of his name and new nickname, the two words becoming interchangeable on your tongue and streaming together. 

Daichi releases your hands so that he can get a better grip on your hips, pounding into you without abandon. His eyes go dark as he loses himself in the feeling of your cunt, so soft and pliant and warm all around him. All his.

He can feel you tensing around him, squeezing his soul out of his body as his cock begs for release.

He speaks through his teeth as his whole body is clenching, hold out his orgasm for you, "Fucking cum on my cock baby girl. I need to feel it."

He lets out a primal growl as you feel the pressure inside you release as your pussy milks his cock. Your orgasm crashing through you, forcing you to grip onto his strong shoulders, leaving dark circles that will eventually turn into bruises into his perfect skin. 

You cry out for him, chanting his name as your vision clouds over, and you swear you can see the universe unfolding and refolding in on itself as your body is propelled through time and space.

Your mind is hazy as your muscles twitch. Daichi is still pounding into you, babbling about how much of a good girl you are and how much he's going to fill you up, claim you as his. 

Your body is still shaking with pleasure when you feel Daichi’s thrusts start to waver, your pulsating walls still pulling him even deeper until he lets out a moan of your name above you. His eyes lock with yours as he spills his cum inside you, filling you up completely until it seeps out around his cock.

You both are panting as Daichi leans down to kiss you, his soft lips a stark contrast to the pounding your cunt just received. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his weight on top of you and keeping him sheathed inside you. 

The stars shine down on you in their infinite beauty and you wish you could stay in this moment forever with him, breathing in his scent, the two of your souls merged into one, with your breathing in sync. All you need is him, you think, only him and you could be happy forever.

Daichi wakes up to the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He looks down at your sleeping form on his chest and debates on whether or not he should move you to turn the assault of buzzing off. 

When his phone quiets down, he lets out a small sigh of relief.

After last night on the roof, the two of you managed to sneak to his room without anyone seeing you. Kuroo and Bokuto almost caught the two of you, but with women on each of their arms, they were a little too preoccupied trying to navigate through the mansion to pay attention to you and Daichi hiding in the shadows, giggling at their antics. 

After the two of you got cleaned up, you both got comfortable under the covers, talking the night away, exchanging small kisses and playful jabs before you fell asleep on his chest.

He looks back down at you, and you look so cute sleeping in one of his shirts, the little bit of drool pooling on his chest is adorable and he wishes his phone was closer so he could take a photo.

The incessant buzzing starts again and he lets out a small curse. 

Whoever is calling him must really need him. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your shampoo before he very slowly moves your sleeping body off him.

He grabs his phone off the nightstand before heading to the bathroom, not wanting to disturb your sleep with whatever this phone call is.

Finally looking down at the caller ID, he wishes he would have just thrown his phone out the window but nevertheless, he answers after letting out a big sigh. 

“Dad, what do you need?”

His father talks to him through the phone before Daichi has heard enough. He says one phrase to his dad before hanging up the phone and turning his phone off and slamming it on the counter.

“Drop it, I am not meeting with Hime.”

the blonde sitting on issei’s lap? that was me uwu

who wants a part 2? i couldnt finish the other half in time for the deadline🙏 please forgive me 

send me an ask to be added to my tag list

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#🌻.collab #rich boy collab #daichi x reader #Daichi Sawamura #Daichi Sawamura x reader #hq x reader #tw.blood #tw.alcohol #tw.daddy #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut

[fruitcoops]

could you possibly write something about Sirius & remus dating and remus feeling bad that Sirius keeps paying (since obviously he's big deal NHLer v trainer)

Oof, yes. This was combined with asks for some Coops hurt/comfort where one doesn't want to talk, as well as an argument. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for wealth insecurity, small argument (not a blowout)

Grocery shopping had never been Remus’ favorite thing in the world, but he had to admit it was a lot more fun when everything came with the thrilling reminder that he was living with the love of his life. He got to learn Sirius’ preferences on everything from candles (softer scents, or something woodsy) to towels (as fluffy as humanly possible) and filed every detail away in the little pocket of his brain entirely dedicated to the beautiful man that could reach the top shelves.

“What’s next?” he asked an hour into their latest Target excursion.

Sirius tilted his phone to show the screen. “Sheets.”

“I still can’t believe you had a hole in those and didn’t notice,” Remus said with a shake of his head.

“How do you know it wasn’t your fault?” Sirius countered with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“I’m not the one that runs marathons in my sleep,” Remus laughed, standing on his toes to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Oof. Prickly.”

Sirius scrunched his nose. “You like it.”

“Hmm. Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he mimicked, bumping Remus’ hip with his own. “What kind do you want?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as they turned down the next aisle, scanning the shelves of plastic-wrapped packages in a million different patterns. “I like the look of the white ones, but grey or blue could be nice. You?”

“As long as they’re soft and have you in them, I don’t care.”

“Sap,” he teased, though he was unable to fight the blush racing hot up his neck. Sirius didn’t protest; his small, smug smile needed no explanation. Remus pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, making note of the price tags as he went. Sheets were always an expense—not as bad as blankets or, god forbid, a new mattress, but an expense all the same. He had managed to keep his last ones in good condition for almost ten years before they wore out.

The $30 set doesn’t look too bad, but that’s a weird color…Sirius hates microfiber…I’d rather not sleep on puppy print…getting laid on a 1970s paisley pattern would kill me instantly… “How about these?”

He startled and glanced down the aisle, where Sirius was holding a set in faint gray. An unbidden grin pulled at the side of his mouth. “The softest of the bunch, huh?”

“Of course,” Sirius laughed. “Come feel, it’s like heaven.”

Remus pushed off and hopped up on the undercarriage, riding the cart all the way until he reached Sirius’ side; his hand was halfway to the exposed block of fabric when he froze. $186.99, read the price tag below the stack of sheets in varying colors. Almost $200, and the only difference was the softness. “I…” he faltered slightly, looking between Sirius and the sheets for a moment.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I do,” Remus said as his mind whirred. He had never spent more than a hundred dollars on sheets before. It wasn’t wildly out his budget, especially once he started working with the Lions, but he had always been careful with money. Sirius…Sirius had never had to do that. Never in his life.

“Is it the color? Because they have white ones—”

“It’s 200 dollars,” he almost laughed. Sirius fell quiet in obvious confusion as Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius, those sheets are 200 dollars.”

“Yes?”

“There’s—” Remus broke off again; something a little too much like shame for his liking crawled up his throat. “I—sure, yeah, if you like them.”

“It’s not about what Ilike,” Sirius continued, as if he couldn’t see the discomfort tensing every one of Remus’ muscles. “It’s our bed. I don’t want to get sheets you hate.”

“No, no, they’re nice.” Too nice. Remus forced a smile. “I like them.”

Sirius looked at him for a moment. “Which ones do you prefer?”

The ones that don’t cost the same as my monthly food budget. “Uh, the color threw me off at first,” he said. “The blue ones are better.”

The crease between Sirius’ brows eased by a degree and he kissed Remus’ jaw gently, then switched the sets. “D’accord, mon loup. Whatever makes you happy.”

Remus was as quiet as he could be without arousing suspicion for the rest of the trip. Sirius paid for their things—like always, Remus realized with a turn of his stomach—and helped him carry the bags to the car without another word about the sheets.

He stayed quiet the whole way home.

The shame mounted as they drove. It seemed everything was a sudden, unwelcome reminder of just how different he and Sirius were. Sirius’ family had a chef during his childhood—Remus made himself PB&Js every morning for the entirety of middle school. Sirius had a brand-new car—Remus had never had cause to justify that over public transportation and Uber. It was embarrassing, and Sirius’ unintentional thoughtlessness was more frustrating than he thought it would be.

He didn’t say anything as they pulled up to the house and unloaded their shopping bags; his shirt and jeans itched his skin like sandpaper. Judging from the look on Sirius’ face, he had picked up on Remus’ frustration, but there was no way Remus was going to get into the root of it while he still felt so twitchy.

Damn you and your emotional intelligence, he thought as he slipped past Sirius’ worried glances and up the stairs to their bedroom. Be oblivious for once and let me get through this.

The bed was stripped bare—their duvet and pillows sat in a heap on top of the mattress. Remus thought back to the first night he had slept there, marveling at the cloudlike support on his achy lower back. He had chalked it up to the pure bliss that came with finally having what he really wanted, but his traitorous brain was starting to convince him it wasn’t the joy that made it seem so nice.

He had never gone without food. His parents always made sure he had clothes that mostly fit and the school supplies he needed. They paid for his hockey gear and the team dues until he was old enough to work part-time and start saving his own money; scholarships had always been of a quiet importance in their house. Things got tighter when Jules was born, but they made it work. Remus would always be grateful for that.

Sirius had never had to think about money in that way. Not once.

Remus sighed through his nose as he pulled his battered Wisconsin hoodie over his head and tightened the drawstring of his sweats, letting the comfort envelop him. “It’s not his fault,” he murmured into the mirror. “Don’t get into your head about this.”

Sirius was in the living room when Remus made his way down the stairs with his hands curled into the worn sleeves of the hoodie. He said nothing while Remus began absently cleaning up the scattered items around their junk bowl, though his gaze prickled the back of his neck.

“Mon loup?” came the soft question after two minutes of tense silence.

“Yeah?” he managed around the tightness in his lungs.

He could practically taste Sirius’ hesitation. “Did I—nevermind. Sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said again, though he seemed to be folding in on himself. Remus hated seeing him try and take up less space, and hated the idea that he was the one that caused it.

$200. On sheets.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, leaning back against the countertop.

“No, I just—” Sirius pasted on a smile and cross the room, dropping a tentative kiss to the top of his head as he passed despite the wary look in his eyes. “Just a thought. It’s nothing.”

“You’re upset.”

“No, no, I’m good.”

“Please don’t lie to me.” It came out harsher than intended and Remus winced. “I mean—Sirius, something is obviously bothering you.”

He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, rubbing his thumbs in small circles over the marble countertop before making brief eye contact. “You’re angry,” he said at last, cautiously. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Remus said, then paused. Sirius’ face fell. “Well, I’m a little irritated, but—but it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Remus swallowed hard at the kicked-puppy look on Sirius’ face. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

And that was…honestly, kind of the worst thing he could say. “You don’t get it,” Remus said, staring at the floor. “Sirius, you just spent 200 dollars on sheets.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him more. “You said you liked them.”

“I—” Remus flailed his hand around. “I do! But Jesus, honey, that’s kind of a lot!”

“We both liked the sheets.”

“I don’t know how to tell you that that’s expensive!” he blurted as the words wormed their way out and hung in the air. “Two hundred dollars might be peanuts to you, but that used to be my food budget for the month!”

“Remus—”

“You have never had to budget a day in your life,” he said, quieter. “Your watch probably cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment, you’ve never taken public transportation—”

“Remus—”

“—and you make millions of dollars every year!” He paused, out of breath, and ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Millions, Sirius. And—and now that we’re together, that we’re living together, it’s just really apparent in a way that it wasn’t before.”

Sirius’ throat bobbed. “I wish you had told me at the store.”

“It’s not about the sheets,” Remus laughed, because there was nothing else he could do other than cry. “We have entirely different views of how much money is worth. You can pay for things for me and I can’t do the same for you, and that feels like shit.”

An unsettling quiet blanketed the whole first floor as Sirius stayed very, very still, like a small animal caught in a trap. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he confessed, barely above a whisper. “You’re right. Money is…it’s not something I’ve had to think about, but I like spending it on you.”

“I don’t like being cared for,” Remus forced out around the grate that had been keeping it down. “I don’t like feeling like I can’t support myself, or that I’m a burden on you and especially that I can’t repay that.”

Sirius finally met his eyes, and he looked appalled. “Remus, you’re never a burden.”

“It feels like it.” He was horrified to feel the burn of tears in his eyes. “Sometimes. When—when you buy nice things for me, or we go on nice vacations, or even when you buy groceries for us for the fifth time in a row, it feels like I’m using you for your money.”

“But you’re not.”

“No!” Remus said immediately. “God, no, never. That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t want you to have to change your lifestyle to make it revolve around me, either. I feel like I’m caught in the middle and there’s no good answer.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, the way that always made Remus feel a little bit like a particularly intricate play he was trying to work out. “What did you want to say at the store?”

“I—what?”

“What did you want to say while we were getting the sheets?”

Remus bit his lip in thought. “Those are too expensive, and I think we should get different ones,” he said eventually. “I like the color and the fabric, but I don’t want to spend that much money on sheets when we could do something else with it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.” The earnest look on Sirius’ face eased some of the bubbling feelings in his chest. “And I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“…why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing to look at your multi-millionaire boyfriend and say, ‘I can’t afford $200 sheets’, Sirius. It sucks. I feel like I can’t measure up.”

Sirius nodded. “I’ve never judged you for your money, not once. Just for the record. There’s nothing I would rather spend it on than making you happy.”

“I don’t want to be sheltered and provided for.” Remus blinked back the last of the tears and closed his eyes. “I want us to be equals. That’s important to me.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t know how to fix this right away.”

“I don’t, either.” Warm fingers brushed the back of his hand and he leaned into Sirius without looking. “Can we try and figure it out, though? As a team?”

“Yes, captain,” he snorted, feeling Sirius’ soft huff on the top of his head. They stood silently for a few seconds before Remus let go of his tension with a slow exhale. “I don’t think a joint bank account is a good idea yet, but maybe we can start by alternating who buys groceries? Or something small like that. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, not with you. I love you too much.”

Sirius nuzzled into his hair for a moment before lips pressed against his temple. “How about we start by making the bed?”

The pressure on Remus’ chest eased. Making the bed was easy. They had the exact same method for it, a function of Sirius growing up with a militant mother and Remus’ aunts lovingly terrorizing him into learning how to do hospital corners. It was an olive branch that he could happily accept with a light squeeze around Sirius’ waist. Baby steps, he thought. We’ll deal with the big stuff when we’re better settled. He offered a half-smile to Sirius. “What are we waiting for?”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #lumosinlove #money talk #hurt/ comfort #angst #argument #sheets

[baecvlt]

Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader

this was requested via my twitter:

“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”

a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)

warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)

• • •

It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.

Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.

A moving van?

Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.

He was “going for a walk”.

Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—

“Hi!”

She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.

“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”

“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”

“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”

He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.

“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”

One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.

“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”

“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”

“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”

She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.

She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”

“Academic scholarships”

“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”

The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’m already so full”

“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”

“What’s that?”

“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”

Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.

“Goodnight, you”

Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡

“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”

He nodded.

She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”

“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”

“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”

“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”

“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”

“G-Goodnight”

He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.

He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.

“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”

Just more to add to his notebook.

He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”

Oh, thank god.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”

“Great. See you then!”

He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.

“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”

“Okay, mom”

She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”

“Bastard”

“Nessa”

“I guess I walked right into that one”

Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.

“Hey, its okay not to understand things”

Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.

Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.

“I’m tired, but class was okay”

“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”

“Thanks”

Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.

“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”

“Oh, you’re just saying things...”

“No, really! Thank you”

He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.

The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.

“Were you following me yesterday?”

Shit.

“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.

“���What do you want?”

None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.

“I’m sorry”

“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”

Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.

“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”

“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.

He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.

“Do you know what to do with them?”

He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.

He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.

That was a mistake.

“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.

“You’re so sensitive there”

She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.

“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”

She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.

“Y-Yes..”

“Where do you wanna cum?”

“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”

She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.

“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”

“C-Can I?”

“Yes, dummy”

She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.

“I’d love that actually”

“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”

“I feel so lucky”

He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.

#danganronpa #fanfic #danganronpa goodbye despair #smut #dr nagito #sdr2 nagito #nagito headcanons #nagito smut #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito komeada x reader #x reader #danganronpa nagito

[willwriteforhugs]

just a sniffle!- hwang hyunjin

boyfriend! hyunjin x reader- one shot !

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, domestic scenario

synopsis: after your boyfriend comes home from a long day, you swear you can detect a scratch in his throat... but he insists he’s fine. fast forward 12 hours, and hyunjin is practically bed-ridden with fever. and now what...

warnings: sickness/a high fever (obviously), minor cursing

a/n: this prompt was requested by an anon!! i hope i didn’t take too long to put this out- it takes me forever to edit when the fic in question is a request, because i just want it to be perfect :’) anyways, to my lovely anon: thank you for the request, and i hope you enjoy!

- - -

earlier, when hyunjin had told you he’d be able to get off early, you’d been over the moon- it was a rare occurrence, after all. your boyfriend has- as many idols do- an extremely hectic schedule, with practices often going late into the night. so when he’d said the two of you would be able to spend the evening together, it had taken all your self-control not to start cheering right then and there. but you had managed to stay calm- and still devise a thorough, detailed plan of how the night would go.

you would make dinner, and it would be ready by the time hyunjin got to your place- because who doesn’t love being welcomed by a warm meal? then, after you eat, hyunjin can run and get cleaned up while you do dishes. when that’s all done, the two of you can get down to business by binge watching all the drama episodes you’d missed. (you never watched them without him, even though you usually fall way behind in the show, due to his lack of free time. he insists that you shouldn’t wait- but you love to watch them with him, so you always let them pile up...)

now, in the moment, you scurry aimlessly about your apartment. dinner is ready, waiting to be served in the kitchen, so you walk around your front room. you know that everything is clean- this is the fourth time you’ve checked. but still, this isn’t an everyday thing, and you want the place to be tidy for your boyfriend. (you also know he doesn’t really care all that much- but it’s the thought that counts, right?)

your train of thoughts ends abruptly when a knock sounds from the front door. already smiling, you rush to answer it- and sure enough, there he is.

hyunjin stands in your front entryway, tilting his head as he looks at you. a smile toys at his lips, and he extends an arm. fighting your own glee, you lean into his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent.

“hey,” you say into his chest. he hums in reply, and you stand there for a moment, simply appreciating each other. after a beat has passed, you speak up again. “let’s go inside.”

the two of you enter, hyunjin closing the door behind him. he’s wearing a casual outfit, made up of just black sweats and a hat. you assume he’s already showered, too, because, well- you won’t lie- he usually doesn’t smell that great after a long practice. but he seems clean, and all for the better- that just means the schedule gets sped up, and more time for the two of you! 

as he usually does, your boyfriend wanders into your bedroom to set down his things, not lingering. he meets you back in the kitchen as you begin to serve the food. you see him smile at the spread, and finally he speaks: “wow, babe. that’s a lot of food.”

at the sound of his voice, you start a bit. it’s much lower than usual, and you detect a bit of scratchiness in it. without looking up, you make your inquiry: “are you feeling well? you sound a bit froggy.”

hyunjin snorts at your description. “froggy? you really are something...”

you smile, bringing two servings of food to the table. as you begin to eat, the two of you settle into comfortable silence. 

as the meal continues, though, you feel yourself begin to frown. despite his obvious attempts to hide it, hyunjin seems to be having trouble swallowing his food. with every bite, you see your boyfriend flinch just a bit. 

not being able to take it any longer, you set your chopsticks down. “really, hyunjin-ah. you don’t seem well, are you getting a cold?”

your boyfriend makes a mocking pouty face at you. clearing his throat, he responds: “i’m fine, y/n. i really am, so don’t baby me.”

you give a half hearted glare. “fine. but if you wake up tomorrow feeling like shit, don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

- - -

you had been right, of course.

and, for the record, you had warned him.

it’s 6:48 in the morning, and both of you were awake. you lean over in bed, switching on the light. laying in a pathetic lump on your other side, hyunjin groans loudly. you turn back around to face him. “hyunjin-ah, seriously. let me feel your head, you’ve been coughing all night!”

the lump that happens to be your boyfriend shifts to face you in bed. you frown once you can seem him clearly- his face is red, and his eyes are watery from the coughing. you place your own cool palm on his forehead, and almost jerk back in surprise. “babe, you’re burning up!”

flinging your blankets away, you spring out of bed. “hyunjin!” you groan. “i knew you sounded off, why wouldn’t you say anything?”

he coughs again, finally managing to clear his throat. in his raspy voice, he manages: “i didn’t want to ruin your night. i knew you were excited.”

you sigh, knowing the feeling, and hating the understanding. hyunjin was overworked, truly. he shouldn’t have felt the need to lie just to spend time with you, no matter how excited you were...

“c’mon.” you say nudging him in the hips. “sit up, i’ll get you some painkillers and water. are you hungry?”

he grunts in response. when you don’t move, he finally mutters into his pillow: “i don’t know.”

a smile tugs at your lips at this. “that’s alright. i’ll get you a bit anyways.”

you know that hyunjin’s dramatics are probably a conductor to this situation, but a tiny part of you is excited at this opportunity to spoil him, even if it’s at his expense. 

in the kitchen, you dig around for the promised medicine and some snacks, then pour a glass of water.

when you re enter your bedroom, you see hyunjin has managed to sit up. his tall figure is slumped as he leans against the headboard of your bed. nonetheless, he smiles as you enter the room. “you’re so pretty in the mornings,” he mumbles.

you gently smack his head as you set down the water glass. “oh, shut up. at least take the meds first so you’ll be able to defend yourself later on.”

at this, he chuckles- but the joy quickly dissipates as the laugh turns into a pained cough. you use your palm to rub circles over his back as he regains his breath. the fit passes, but the tension in the air doesn’t. 

in perfect unison, the two of you sigh.

hyunjin breaks the silence. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i should have just told you i wasn’t feeling well last night... maybe we could have caught it before it got this bad.”

you give him a bittersweet smile. “your pride can be a weakness, my love.”

at this, hyunin puts his hand to his chest in fake shock. “i can’t believe you’d say such things to me. and while i’m ill!”

“it’s just a cold, your highness. take the tylenol and see how that helps.” you pause, knowing that he is probably in more pain than he’s letting on- you can tell because he was covering it with humor, something he rarely does. “do you- do you want a washcloth or something? an ice pack?”

your boyfriend’s expression is warm. his voice is still uneven, and he responds in an almost whisper: “is that alright?”

your heart stutters at his demeanor. “yes, that’s alright.”

when you return with the cold washcloth, hyunjin has slid down a bit- now only half sitting up. his eyes are closed, though you suspect he isn’t asleep, at least not fully. but you can tell he’s exhausted from being up all night with his sneezing and coughing... maybe he really is asleep...

you make your way to him, and pause to admire his peaceful face. he truly is beautiful... you reach over and gently sweep his long hair away from his forehead, allowing your fingers to linger. he’s still very warm to the touch, and you can’t help but worry for him. after a moment, you swap your hand for the washcloth, draping it gently across his already damp forehead. 

you aren’t really sure how to properly care for a sick person, but a cold compress seems to be what all the dramas suggest. so you sit back down and hope for the best. 

a few minutes pass- hyunjin breathing peacefully in the bed, and you in a nearby chair watching him. suddenly, your counterpart’s eyes flicker open, deep brown eyes meeting your own. “y/n-ah?” he rasps.

you almost launch out of your chair. “yes? are you alright?”

hyunjin gives a half-hearted snort as his eyes drift shut again. he continues to speak without seeing you. “i’m fine. but- will- do you mind sitting with me? over here?”

you stare at him for a moment, processing. then you smile. “yeah, i can do that. as long as you don’t get me sick.”

“no promises.”

and with that, you crawl back into bed with hyunjin, his back to you. you scoot up a bit, positioning yourself so you can hug him from behind. you’ve never been the big spoon before- but honestly? you love it, and you bury your face in between his shoulder blades, filled with an overwhelming rush of affection.

“y/n?” comes hyunjin’s voice again, very quietly.

you don’t move, answering into his back. “yes?”

“i love you.” 

and with that, hyunjin slips back into sleep, this time nestled in your arms.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #kpop fics #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #skz scenarios #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz au #bang chan #lee minho #lee know #seo changbin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #i.n. stray kids

[ladydaemon]

HOME IS THE TWO OF US

jesper fahey x female! reader

A/N: this is my fic for @magpiencrow's 1.2k writing challenge - i chose to combine 'you and i' by queen and 'two of us' by the beatles. and yeah this is more than two weeks later than when i said i would post this what about it

Summary: jesper and y/n have a wonderful night on ghezen's day

Warnings: swearing, i think that's it? its literally just pure indulgent fluff

"You do realize someone probably worked very hard to earn kruge like this, right?" Y/N L/N grinned, holding up a thick wad of money they had stolen from someone's pockets. She was seemingly unperturbed by the fact, her tone light and teasing as she bumped playfully into Jesper.

"And we, my dear, are working very hard on spending it," Jesper winked, wrapping one of his long arms around her shoulders. He snatched the kruge from her hand, immediately spending a portion of it on the first thing he laid eyes on, which was a ridiculously bright orange hat that burned Y/N’s eyes just looking at.

Jesper plopped it on her head, adjusting it so it was crooked, laughing.

Y/N would have done anything to hear that laugh.

The streets were loud and boisterous and carefree, and for the first time in a very long while, the two of them felt the same way. For today, at least, there were no chores or errands or jobs to do.

It was Ghezen's Day - the holiday that signified the starting of spring, where everything was sunny and bright. It was the one day where even the lowest of the Barrel thugs were out enjoying this tiny sliver of happiness, where there was only whistling vendors and cheery parades and star-gazing at night.

But for Y/N and Jesper, it was something more. It was a day where they weren't con artists or thieves or sharpshooters. They weren't thugs or gamblers or criminals.

They were teenagers.

Kaz, of course, pretended like he didn't care. He rolled his eyes and told them that were just trying to get away from chores they despised or any actual work. But everyone knew, even if they didn't admit it, that today was a day where they could pretend.

Pretend to be normal, pretend to be regular, pretend that they had loving families and good homes. Pretend that the weight of being hated and criminalized and addicted didn't make their shoulders slump and their heads hang. Pretend that they didn't muffle their sobs behind closed doors or shake in bed as they tried to rid their minds of all the horrible, treacherous, necessary things they had done.

Pretend that they were just a pair of inseparable best friends having a good holiday.

"C'mon, we need to find a good spot to see the sky," Jesper needled, taking Y/N by the arm and dragging her toward a carriage, elbowing a small, old lady out of the way and almost running them over a few small children on the way.

On Ghezen's Day, an hour after the sun set, the city mandated that all lights be shut off - the sky was clearer than it ever was in the hours that followed, and nearly everyone over the age of twelve stayed up until dawn, watching the sky. However, there was still pollution in the city, remainders of the gas and oil and muck churned up from the sea and the homes of the wealthy, and many preferred to ride to the outskirts of town, if not all the way into the country, where the sky was more visible.

Those towns that bordered between rural and urban, which never saw much tourism or profit, were the most popular places to be, full of tents for dancing outside and vendors selling foreign delicacies and musicians standing in the streets.

And as such, it was almost impossible to get a carriage out of the city without deploying either bony knees, steel-capped boots, or vicious elbows.

And that was exactly what was happening as people shoved and hassled people out of the way, even occasionally pulling out thick wads of kruge, trying to bribe other people in getting out of the limited selection of carriages going out of the city.

"The woman with the black shawl," Y/N whispered (though she needn't have bothered - the city was loud enough to mask any noise), leaning in and brushing her lips against Jesper's ear so he could hear her.

She could’ve sworn she felt him shudder.

"Ten minutes. No less."

"Twenty kruge.”

"Done."

Y/N grinned, slipping out of Jesper's hold and sauntering over to the woman in question, a pretty red-head. The woman was obviously rich (Y/N took a moment to appreciate the elegant dark blue dress she was wearing, paired with pretty gold earring and a matching necklace) and was about to step into a black carriage - one that Y/N was about to charm her out of.

"Hey there, miss," Y/N called out, putting on the face of an entitled, flirtatious mercher. "You wouldn't mind sharing the carriage, would you? I can’t seem to find an available one, and I’d rather share one with a beautiful lady such as yourself instead of some of those Barrel barbarians.”

The woman stopped halfway into her seat, looking back at Y/N.

If Y/N hadn’t been wearing the obviously expensive clothes she was, with the even more expensive diamond necklace around her throat (that Jesper had given her last Ghezen’s Day, as a present), the woman would have simply shut the carriage door in Y/N’s face.

Then there was the fact that she was gorgeous, and nobody in their right mind would refuse a two hour carriage ride alone with her.

That was Jesper’s opinion, at least.

“I could say the same about you,” the mercher grinned, opening the door wider.

Y/N smiled back, stepping into the carriage and placing her hand delicately on the other woman’s arm-

And swiftly shoved her into the streets, slamming the door behind her. Jesper climbed in from the other side, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Cruel.”

“Please, I slipped fifty kruge in her sleeve, she’ll be fine.”

“Ah. In that case, proceed. I don’t like anyone flirting with my Y/N, anyway.”

Y/N smirked at him, handing the driver a wad of kruge and telling him to step on it.

“Criminals,” he muttered, snapping the reins.

~

"Heels down, Y/N, love," Jesper shouted, grinning.

Y/N, switching the reins to one hand, flipped him off, scowling, but adjusted her feet in the stirrups anyways, forcing her heels downward and huffing when her calves ached. “I hate you.”

“We both know you love me,” Jesper shouted back, easing back into a trot - Y/N did the same, easing her weight further into the balls of her feet and gripping the saddle tighter between her knees. Beside her, Jesper had already done the same, posting in time with his horse’s gait.

“Where are we going again?” Y/N asked, panting as she slowed her horse down to a full stop.

“Absolutely nowhere.”

“Do we’re going nowhere, and basically getting nowhere and you want me to be happy about all this work?”

“Yes? You’re being blessed with my presence.” Mock indignation filled the words and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” Jesper huffed, “let’s go back home.”

But home wasn’t always a place, was it?

~

”Come on, I’m hungry,” Y/N whined, pulling Jesper’s wrist with her as she power-walked through the crowded, small town in search of some sweets.

”Ooh, cinnamon honey cakes,” Jesper said dryly, almost smacking into Y/N when she came to a full, screeching halt.

”Don’t you dare joke about honey cakes,” she hissed, poking him in the chest.

”I wasn’t,“ Jesper chuckle, nodding toward the vendor selling the sweets in question.

Y/N gasped audibly, dragging him along with her as she practically sprinted for the cart.

”After this, we’re going straight to the pond. We don’t want anyone to steal our spot.”

~

Y/N flopped down on her bed, staring at her wall of paper in boredom.

Each scrap of parchment, every napkin with hastily scribbled writing in the back, was a letter from Jesper.

Every week, no matter where Jesper was at the moment, he would write her a letter - describe where he was in detail, and then every thought that came to mind. It was a strange tradition (that nobody remembered how it came about) that Nina liked to tease them about.

You two have separation anxiety, she would giggle. Like an overprotective mother and her baby.

Two best friends, actually, Y/N would respond, stuffing her face with waffles.

Um, no. Would ‘best friends’ write, and I quote, “I’ll be home soon” on every letter they write?

Yes, they would, Y/N would sigh, snatching whichever letter Nina had gotten ahold of that time, and stare at the phrase in question.

Because home wasn’t a place.

~

“Stop doing that,” Jesper whined, plucking the lit match from Y/N’s fingers and tossing it into the pond.

She huffed, sticking out her tongue and lighting another one, waiting until it had burned down to her fingers before flinging it into the lake. “It’s a habit, Jes.”

They could’ve been there bickering playfully, enjoying each other’s company in silence for three days or three hours or a mere three minutes. Time didn’t exist, didn’t matter when they were alone together.

Laughter rang through the darkness, lanterns only bobbing pinpricks of light behind them - drunk giggles and cheerful music echoed back to them, but it didn’t really register to either of the two.

Moonlight bathed the two of them in a white glow as they both stood up as the stars gradually came out, twinkling, tiny lights covering the marbled, dusky blue-purple-black night sky, exposing nebulae and swirls and whorls of colors.

~

“Y/N, love, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“I don’t care in the slightest.”

Jesper sighed, a grudging smile overtaking his face as he watched Y/N. She was soaked to the bone, hair and clothes sticking to her skin, nose ruddy from the cold.

“Dance with me,” she pleaded, holding out a hand to him.

She looked beautiful.

Jesper finally relented, picking Y/N up and twirling her around. She squeaked, closing her eyes, gripping onto his arms for dear life as the rain came down in silver sheets around them.

When he set her back down, the world seemed to stop spinning, the carriages stopped moving, it was just him and her and the rain.

“Let’s go home,” Y/N said eventually, quiet and peaceful, smiling up at Jesper.

But they were already home.

~

She turned to Jesper, about to remark on how pretty the whole thing was, but stopped in her tracks. He was staring at her, a small, happy smile on his face, an unreadable emotion in his silver eyes.

“Wha-“

He closed the three feet of space between them, grabbing her face between his hands, gently, like she was as precious as the diamonds around her neck. Not like she was breakable - like she was valuable, and he never wanted to lose her.

He gave her time to pull away, to laugh and make a joke, but she only stared back at him, the quizzical expression gone, on its place one of fear and hope and happiness.

And then his mouth was on hers and her hands were messing up his hair and she couldn’t feel the grass on her feet anymore or the wind on her neck or her heart, jittering in her chest like it wanted to burst out and fly into the night, only him, him, him.

And then he pulled away and kissed her nose, her eyelids, her forehead. He was laughing, hands going to her waist to twirl her around and around and then she was laughing too, too many emotions to count bubbling up in her chest. Elation, hope, almost hysterical happiness, and-

Absolute certainty.

That was the feeling, that was the one thought filling her head - that there weren’t any questions anymore, because this was where she was supposed to be, this is what she was supposed to be doing, and for once, she was letting herself.

For once, she wasn’t thinking about the next day or the next job or the next week.

It was just the two of them.

Because she could never predict where life was going to lead her next, or foresee the future years, or know what horrible thing was going to happen to her next. Hell, she didn’t know what was going to happen in the next couple hours, let alone what type of sandwich she was going to eat tomorrow.

But she knew, with absolute and utter certainty, that she wanted to do it with him.

That whatever happened, she would be alright, because home wasn’t a place - and it wasn’t Jesper, either.

It was the two of them, together.

~

Music floated gently in the darkness, down to were Y/N and Jesper were laying in the grass. Her head was on his chest, and they were both staring at the stars.

Home is the two of us.

#magpie's 1.2k #lady dae fics #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #jesper fahey x y/n #jesper fahey x you #jesper x reader #jesper x y/n #six of crows #crooked kingdom #six of crows fanfic #grishaverse #jesper x you

[mcheang]

Exclusive

Edna Mode was a renowned designer, famed for her harsh but accurate critiques, her fierce and practical lines, and of course, being the designer of the majority of superheroes.

And now she was hosting a fashionista gala, inviting those worthy of a Mode gala. As for those asking for an invite, Edna just asks who they are and calls security.

Lila, as the self-proclaimed BFF of Ladybug, and Gabriel’s muse, had already boasted of receiving the glamorous invitation. It didn’t just come in an envelope, it came out of the sky in a rosewood chest, accompanied by a bottle of wine and canapés. (Or so she says. Adrien and Marinette rolled their eyes. Chloé wasn’t paying attention)

Alya: Girl, I’m so jealous. But hey, maybe this will be a good thing. After all, Adrien is going with Kagami. Chloe will just stick with her mom. That means it’s a chance for you and Marinette to know each other better.

Oh yeah, did I mention that everyone knows Marinette is MDC?

Lila forced a grin but didn’t want to make any promises.

Imagine Lila’s rage to know she wasn’t given an invite because she was just a model. Adrien was the heir to a fashion company. She was not.

With all the bragging Lila did, she can’t back out or Chloe and Marinette will call out her absence. (Chloé learned about Lila being a guest from Sabrina later from gossiping)

So, she stole Marinette’s invitation. She did some editing and made her own customised invite, brandishing it for her class to see.

Marinette saw her invitation missing, rolled her eyes and reported the theft to Edna. Plz, everyone knows Edna invited her. She didn’t really need a piece of expensive paper.

The day of the gala arrived, and Lila brought out her invite.

The guard looked at his clipboard. “You’re not on the list.”

Lila: No, but I do have an invite. Obviously someone must have made a mistake with your list.

The guard snorted. “If that’s the case, then your fingerprints and eye scans should have already been registered. That’s what opens the doors.“

Lila gulped and thought about sneaking in with the next guest. But no such luck. Security made sure one person entered at a time.

As the security guard moved to push Lila back into the crowd of fans, Lila cried out that she knows Ladybug and Gabriel.

Guard: what’s your point?

Lila: You’ll be fired for this!

Guard: Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard this all before.

Another guard just scoffed. “You’re only a model. One of many in the industry. Miss Mode doesn’t care for models.”

Lila: what are models if not the face of fashion?

“Spoiled, stupid little stick figures with poofy lips who think only of themselves” Edna herself was at the entrance, wondering what was causing the disruption in her guest entrance flow.

Lila: How can you say that? Then why would Ladybug be my Best Friend?

Edna: the day Ladybug says she is your Best Friend is the day I wear crocs. And I don’t mean crocodile leather.

Edna points at a random guard. “You, get this so-called model out of the way. She is blocking the queue.

Oh by the way, Edna calling out Lila was caught on camera by the reporters.

One of them questioned why she was kicking out Gabriel’s muse when his son, a supermodel himself, was invited.

Edna: I did not invite the boy because of his face. I invited him because I saw potential (basically she realized he was Chat Noir. She would never invite Adrien otherwise. As seen from her quote, she doesn’t have a high opinion of models) That is, if he ever gets out of his father’s shadow. Because, let’s face it darling, what can Adrien do besides look pretty and play with swords and piano? You would think the boy would be in part of business meetings, but no. At this rate, Gabriel needs this gala to get out of that stuffy house. Realize that maybe his parenting methods are flawed compared to some other talented figures here. Look at Miss Kagami, focused on upholding her family legacy of fencing. MDC already knows how to run her own business after learning a bit from her parents. Even Audrey’s daughter has been joining in on becoming a fashion critic and throwing parties for political parties. But I must go, my guests await.

Back inside the party, guests were avoiding a seething Gabriel’s eyes. He had come to scout out the superhero guests, only to be called out by Edna on live tv.

Marinette went up to Edna and asked one of her fashion idols why she burned the Agrestes in public.

Edna: do you think Gabriel would change his parenting ways if we did not expose them to the influential figures of this industry, as well as the public eye? I guarantee you Adrien will be allowed more freedom of choice, lest Gabriel wants his son to be known as a coddled boy who can’t even make his own decisions.

Edna didn’t bother softening her sharp voice as she says these words.

Adrien flushed.

Quickly changing the subject, Marinette asked why Edna hated models.

Edna: it’s not that I hate them personally. I just hate their jobs and what they represent. Models nowadays are beautiful only according to the world standards. People who see them want to be like them, never mind that the models they see on the screen are airbrushed to unrealistic and impossible perfection. Now models focus only on their own appearance, trying to maintain their beauty as time ages them. They go on diets and become superficial. Whereas outside the modelling industry or such like, you don’t need to be stereotypically beautiful to be worthy. Where your worth is measured in kindness and bravery and talent and intelligence and anything beyond superficiality.

Adrien overheard and he frowned, not liking the idea where his appearance on ads is not exactly right. He only joined the company to make his father happy. But maybe it’s time he stepped into the business side of things and exit the modelling world. Bonus: no more Lila!

Edna snorted, “Though I must admit Gabriel surprised me with his newest model. Her attitude is lousy but she doesn’t strike me as a model. She just doesn’t have that model walk. But enough about the old man, my dear MDC, let’s talk about you. I love your gender-neutral line. And was wondering if you would like to join me in creating my next line of clothes for the Incredibles. A rare opportunity but I like style. Now take this offer before I change my mind.”

Marinette: wait, do I have to fly over or-

Edna: you are too excited, darling, but don’t worry, my assistants will send you the details.

Why are the Incredibles getting a new look? The kids are growing up and Edna wanted to move on to new styles.

As Marinette was flabbergasted, Audrey congratulated her for landing the job. Kagami and Adrien also beamed at her good fortune.

Even the Incredibles admitted they looked forward to working with her. Violet was a big fan.

Gabriel was seething and thought about akumatizing himself but come on, one villain against a room of superheroes? No thanks.

Drinking a glass of wine, he eventually admits that Edna had a point, however loudly and rudely it had been announced.

He would not be around forever and he wanted to leave the company in Adrien’s hands. In order for that to happen, his son needs to know business (if he can’t design, he can hire designers)

And yes, Lila was a lousy model. She survived by shooting with professional models who managed to overpower her mediocre work. But a deal was a deal. Besides, her contract was only for a year.

After the gala, Adrien happily quit modelling (aka Lila) to spend more time with his father, learning about how to run a company.

Marinette and Edna proudly claimed credit for the fashionable Incredibles.

Violet also became the talk of the school for her MDC exclusives.

Lila had been humiliated on air. Alya hesitated but finally did her research. At the end, she collapsed over the ruined credibility of her blog. But she can still get revenge by informing the principal, Ms Bustier and Mrs Rossi what Lila lied about. The perks of being a class vice president for a busy class president is that she also has the contacts list for emergencies.

Considering how Lila framed Marinette, there would be no suspension or detention. Only expulsion. Good luck finding a new school when Edna’s gala was a global topic.

When Lila returned to school for her last week (it takes time to gather evidence and get the attention of busy adults), nobody wanted to talk to her or even exchange glances. She quietly kept to herself, hoping for this to blow over soon. She was still a model working for Gabriel. She could befriend other supermodels (as if. Like they would want to befriend her after Edna called her out)

Hell, even her jobs were down. Gabriel just told her to take test shoots to fill up her portfolio until the hype died down (aka her contract expired)

When Lila was expelled, she was ready to be akumatized into Chameleon again. Except one problem. Everyone avoided her like hell so how could she kiss her target. Even Adrien was told to stay away lest his reputation be tarnished.

Ok, I admit it. I was hit by “I’m no Angel” quotes as I wrote this. But seriously, does anyone feel weird at the idea of trying to become thinner when your weight is just right, all the while you know there are people out there even thinner than you are and are starving, not because they want to be stereotypically thin, but because they cannot afford food?

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #Lila is exposed #Lila gets exposed #everyone knows Marinette is MDC #post ladybug episode #post episode ladybug #Gabriel salt #ml salt fic

[dreamkidddream]

So my birthday is on April Fools, (how deserving 🤪) and I decided to be self indulgent again and write something! These are short and reader is gender neutral!

WARNING: Lesson 16 spoilers in Beel and Belphie’s part (nothing too heavy but read their sections at your own risks)

The Brothers Celebrating your Birthday!

Lucifer

Expect the most grandest/high class celebration you’ve ever seen MC!

As much as he’s not a morning demon, he’s got a noticeable pep in his step this morning because it’s your special day

Expect him to be one of the first people to text you at midnight because he’s still up doing paperwork

But don’t worry, he won’t be doing any work when it’s time to celebrate

Little messages throughout the day, hinting at something big to come along with small gifts (atleast to him) such as: new outfits, lunch at Ristorante Six with him, basically stuff that he pleases you both and that he would love to see you in (not that he would ever tell you)

Expect his gifts to be high quality too (ie. very expensive)

You expected a huge party, but you didn’t expect him to get so sentimental

After everything ended, you ended up in his room, with him just holding you in his lap, unconsciously caressing you with his mind deep in thought

The impact that you made on his brothers- the impact that you made just on him- it’s far bigger than you could imagine. And that scares him

He’s gotten so close to you that he forgot that you can’t stay here forever, both in the Devildom and mortality. What would he do when you have to leave his brothers? When you have to leave him? It makes his chest pang with pain every time the thought crosses his mind, but he refuses to let it ruin the moments he does get to spend with you

You’ll never know how grateful he is for deep down, and he never wants to lose you. Who would have thought that the mighty firstborn would fall so deep for a mere human?

Mammon

ITS PARTY TIME

Get ready to have the best birthday ever with no one other than the Great Mammon!

Tries to be the first one to tell you, fell asleep and immediately felt bad

Celebrates your birthday like a national holiday but is still somehow tsundere about it. He’s only being like this because you don’t know how to party, and he doesn’t want to hear you complain later, got it?!

Has his crows bring you small gifts leading up to the big party. Bracelets, candy, mini love letters that he swore that he threw away...

Definitely snuck off during your party, because he wanted to hand you his gift personally (and he didn’t want to hear his brothers say anything about it). Prays (how ironic) that you don’t hate it, tears up when you say that you love it

Definitely got some kisses as thanks and can expect some more later

He just really appreciates and loves you okay? You’re important to him, and today’s the day that you were brought into the world, the reason that he’s able to look forward to something everyday. You’ve made a change in everyone’s lives, even that grouch Lucifer, and he has to say thanks somehow

Plus, you’re important to him- so he does see this as a special day regardless of what comes out of his mouth. He still gets embarrassed about being emotional, but he makes sure that you know that he loves you

He always will

Leviathan

It’s just another day normie, nothing special...

Hey quit trying to figure out what he’s hiding behind his back! He doesn’t have anything okay?! It’s nothing! And ignore that he called you, he just butt dialed you and didn’t expect you to answer! And he just decided to say happy birthday because everyone else was, not because he actually cares!

He is so stumped on how he’s going to celebrate your birthday, he hasn’t stressed about something non-otaku like this in decades. He’s so anxious that he’ll ruin your big day. What if he gets you something and you hate it and then hate him?!!

This day is making him more nervous than it should, but he can’t help it! You’re his best friend, a person that he can confidently say that he’s fortunate enough to know and that he loves-

OKAY he can’t exactly say it out loud yet without turning 50 shades of red, but he really does. He just needs a way to show it

Believe it or not, he was too excited to wait to tell you his gift after the party, so he told you after he said happy birthday. Free range to his manga collection??? What could be better than that?! The perfect gift if you asked him

Plus he rather you be holed up with him in his room than being anywhere else. That’s how it should be: just his Henry, his anime/manga/game collection, and Henry 2.0

It’s the least that he can do for how much you’ve been there for him, and even though he still has a hard time saying how he really feels, he hopes that this atleast gives you a glimpse into his true feelings

Ugh this feels like he’s a love interest in an otome game or something...

Satan

Honestly is the chillest of them all

Don’t get me wrong he’s super excited like everyone else, but he has a very detailed itinerary that you both need to follow for today, starting with breakfast.

Get down here before Beel eats your breakfast!

He made it with all of your favorite activities and places, along with things that he just knew you’ll love (and him too, but seeing you smiling is more than enough to make him content). He put a lot of effort into this whole day, especially with your gift

He put thought into it (no surprise there), he didn’t want to give you just anything and he has to one-up Lucifer and he needed to give you something to show you how much of a change you’ve been in his life. How much you influenced him to make better choices when it comes to channeling his anger and rage

He got you a magic photo album last year, and the way that you reacted to that (which was obviously positive), the pressure is on this year to impress you even more

Which he ended up doing! But he won’t lie, he was just a tad bit nervous in disappointing you, but everything worked out well, so you didn’t need to know!

Although, he did feel a bit shy in handing you his gift, he felt relieved in seeing you accept it so quickly

Also invited you to read any of his books, and even offered to teach you some spells, both safe and simple enough to where it won’t cause any real damage to anyone. Might teach you a spell to spite Lucifer to make the LYS club proud

You don’t know how much you mean to his brothers, how much you mean to him. You’ve made a bigger impact that you think, and while he knows that nothing he does will ever show you how eternally thankful he is for your presence, he at least wants to show you a sliver of his appreciation. What better way than the day you came into the world?

Also expect him to try and fluster you the whole day. You’re too cute for him to leave you alone, and your reactions are better than that brand new cat cafe

Actually he might have to test that theory, and the only way to do that is if you both visit the cafe. Either way he’s not complaining! Cats and you? A match to die for

Asmodeus

You’re the only reason he’ll interrupt his beauty sleep

Wants bragging rights to say that he told you happy birthday first

Today is a big day after all! It’s the day that you came into the world, and that you’re able to even be down here with him- I mean them!

Will be your designated fashion designer. All your outfits already have to not only be on point, but they have to be iconic. No exceptions! Doesn’t matter if you’re just going to Purgatory Hall, you’re going there in style!

Gifts are in style too! He got you stuff that you would absolutely fall in love with. He’s not that self centered, give him some credit MC!

After the big celebration with everyone, of course you’re going out to The Fall! He has to show you off of course, it would be a crime if he didn’t

But once everything is over and you guys are home, he takes his time in doing his nightly routine on you both. Honestly just basking in your glow and just enjoying you. No sharing, no interruptions, just you and him

He catches himself thinking that there’s no way he can love someone more than he can love himself, it’s impossible, it has to be

But he loves you so much that he’s starting to doubt that theory

But would that really be a problem?

Beelzebub

He’s so excited! And he takes today VERY seriously

He’s gonna make sure you eat SO GOOD today that Lord Diavolo would be jealous

As soon as you get up you guys are hitting every restaurant and I mean EVERY

You’re getting the best of the best because you deserve the best

And as a gift he got you so much food that you’ll probably have enough to last you both for the rest of the year...if he doesn’t eat it all

He knows that food is his thing, but he got you so much because he knows that it makes him happy, and he wants you to feel the same way. It makes him feel all warm inside, and when you’re with him it’s like he’s eating all of his favorites at once, but even better

And you guys eating food together?? It makes him feel like he’s back in the Celestial Realm again

But I feel like with Beel, another way he shows love is through acts of service and quality time. For him, even if you guys are doing absolutely nothing, he’s 100% in bliss

So his gift to you was in the way of snacks to share and having him at your mercy (not that you would ever take advantage of him like that). Also promising to take you wherever you want, it’s your day!

You see past his sin, and enjoy Beel for Beel. You don’t just see him as Gluttony, you helped bring his twin back to him, you even sleep and listen to him after his nightmares of Lilith. It’s only right to show gratitude for all that you’ve done on your birthday

And all of his brothers love you, especially him. You’re basically family at this point, and no takebacks either

Just don’t leave him MC, you’ve became a big part of his life now, and he honestly would be very sad without you

Belphegor

There’s no way that this sleepy king can stay up until midnight so you’ll get your happy birthday when he sees you in the morning (if he’s up)

No but fr in the game he DOES NOT CALL YOU OR EVEN TEXT!!! LIKE I STAYED UP THINKING HE FELL ASLEEP AND HE JUST STRAIGHT UP- okay sorry back to the headcannons 😭

He’s very optimistic on the inside trust me, he just doesn’t show it very well on the outside, but he’s trying!

He can’t help it that he’s sleepy but...you put some energy back into him, and he is ecstatic about celebrating with you, he just has a hard time showing it

His brothers were a little peeved about his nonchalant attitude AND not getting you a gift, but Beel already knows what his twin is doing, he just didn’t want anyone else to know because he wanted everything to be perfect

After the party, he snuck you away to the planetarium, which is designated as your sacred spot. This was nothing new, but you still laid in awe cuddled with Belphie looking up at the sky

But tonight was different, as the stars up above spelled out...your name? And did that star basically let out miniature fireworks? And are those stars over there shaped as a cow and mooing?

Seeing your eyes light up meant that it was worth it to skip out on some of his naps to talk to Solomon and practice out some new spells (but you won’t ever know that)

Belphie really cares about you. Really cares about you. No matter how much he may be sarcastic or act like things aren’t a big deal, they are to him, especially when it comes to you. After the ill-fated events in the attic, he would have not been surprised if you hated him and want nothing to do with him ever again; it was his fault after all, he couldn’t be upset with you. But you were willing to forgive him, and start over

MC, you will never know how much indebted he is to you. You’re the reason that he’s out of the attic and reconnected with his twins again, the reason that he’s apart of the family and not separated. Yes, he still has some issues that he may need to work on for himself, but he’s able to take the right step because of you

He doesn’t really have a choice in celebrating your birthday (at least to him but he’s gonna celebrate either way), because without you, he doesn’t know where he would end up at, he would be lost. He owes you enough to see you safe and happy, and he swears that he will keep you that way. A happy and safe MC means a satisfied Belphie

And having you curled up in his side, going on about the show he planned, has him feeling very light, and he can’t help but wonder if this is how his sister felt

If it is, he can’t help but start to see everything a little clearer now

#obey me x reader #obey me reader insert #obey me #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me belphie x reader

[hhjs]

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary  —   Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

 You accept it. 

 For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

 Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all. 

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour.  Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe.  While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him. 

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell. 

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

 Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose.  You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger  stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

 You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night.  See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart. 

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.”  he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

 “I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

 Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've  passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side. 

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous. 

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it. 

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say. 

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

— 

Kiss underneath a mistletoe. 

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right. 

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different.  Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

  Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

 He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

— 

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh.  Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

 Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you?  "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."  

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know.  Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

— 

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of  honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear,   "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

#kwritersworldnet #stayhavennet #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfiction #skz fluff #skz angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #jeongin x reader #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: sorry for the wait yall this month really kicked my ass,, but also we reached part 20!!

tw infertility discussion

***

Gwyn: isn’t he beautiful <3

In the freezing February air outside the tea house, Nesta clicks on the picture attached to Gwyn’s text. It’s a distant shot of a man in his mid-thirties hunched over a library desk while working, unaware that there’s a camera on him. She’ll give it to Gwyn, though—he is a little handsome.

Emerie: the stalker levels are through the roof, gwyneth. seek help.

Gwyn: no i’m gonna marry him

Nesta doesn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned, but she types out a brief response before her thumbs fall off from the cold: Will give my opinion on him later. Got to go.

Gwyn’s crush will have to wait, Nesta thinks as she finally puts her phone away and pushes her way inside the exquisite tea house. Immediately, blasting heat thaws her frozen fingers and toes, and farther inside she spots the table she reserved for three. Right now, only one person sits at it.

Nesta grits her teeth and approaches the round table, heels clicking softly on the parquet floors. Elain doesn’t look up from the menu she’s reading. “This place would be nicer to visit in the spring,” is her only acknowledgment of Nesta.

“I like the winter,” Nesta answers simply, taking her seat across from Elain. She likes how the ice creeps over the garden outside until everything looks frozen in time, and she likes how the colorful flowers and trees become dulled by white snow. Not that her sister would understand or care.

“Of course you do,” Elain mutters, setting down the menu with all the careful elegance of a debutante. “I’m only here for Feyre, anyway.”

It almost saddens Nesta that she doesn’t feel hurt or offense at the words. She thought she would care more about Elain’s opinion than she actually does. “Where is Feyre, then?” she says, looking pointedly at the empty seat between them. “I thought she was coming with you.”

“I’m right here,” a breathless voice says, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps. Feyre appears, looking flushed from exertion and the cold. She sets her bag down and joins them at the table, scooting her seat all the way in. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Nesta bites. “I was just about to order.”

“So was I.” Elain smiles breezily.

Feyre glances between the two of them, clear concern on her face, but she covers it up and says, “I’m so glad we’re doing this.”

It was Feyre’s idea, of course. After Nesta told her off for never being interested in what she wanted to do, Feyre actually listened. She asked if Nesta wanted to hang out, and then let Nesta fill in the rest of the details on her own terms.

Which brings them to the tea house. Unfortunately for her sisters, however, Nesta doesn’t really know where to go from ordering tea and biscuits.

“How is school going?” Feyre asks her after their drinks arrive.

Nesta sips from her tea, already bored. “It’s been fifteen minutes and you have yet to say anything of substance, Feyre. It makes me miss being alone with Elain and her mood.”

Feyre looks taken aback, and Elain levels a glare at Nesta. An unsurprised, of course you have to ruin everything like this glare.

So Nesta clarifies, “That wasn’t an attack. I just hoped that after driving out here, I would get something better than shallow small talk.”

“And how do you know it was shallow?” Elain steps in harshly. “How do you know she isn’t actually interested in how you’re doing at school?”

Nesta slides blunt blue eyes to Feyre. “If that’s the case, then I commend you. Personally, I wouldn’t give a shit if I was in your position.”

To her surprise, Feyre snorts. She looks resigned when she says, “No, you’re right. I don’t care about what’s going on at school, not if you don’t. What would you rather we talk about then, Nesta?”

Without hesitation, Nesta says, “Ask me something you really care to hear the answer to.”

Elain shuts her mouth and sits back at that. Feyre twists her lips, thinking her next words over carefully. “How is your therapy going?” she finally asks in a cautious tone. “What do you talk about there?”

Remembering that she’s in a formal setting, Nesta stops herself from crossing her arms. She settles on wrapping her fingers delicately around her teacup instead. “We talk about whatever I feel like talking about,” she answers honestly. Although lately her conversations with Lana feel more restrained than usual.

“And what’s that?” Feyre urges.

Nesta shrugs, fitting apathy onto her face like an old mask. “Recently? Childbearing.” But it isn’t her favorite topic of discussion, not at all.

“You’re pregnant?” Elain jumps in, leading Nesta to throw her an unamused look.

“No, idiot,” she says. “My therapist just has the idea that if I end up being infertile it’ll screw me up, mentally and emotionally and whatever. She thinks I should deal with that baggage now instead of saving it for later.” She rolls her eyes thinking about it. How many times does she have to repeat that she doesn’t care about her body’s reproductive abilities until Lana gets it?

Feyre chuckles, confused. “Why would you be infertile?”

Nesta forgot—she didn’t want her sisters knowing anything that has to do with her health. She even made Cassian keep her doctor visits secret from Feyre. But that was months ago, and the sisters are… not exactly in a better place now, but looking for the way there. Nesta thinks she can tell them without any severe regrets. “I have endometriosis.”

When she’s met with silence, she adds, “You know, with the tissue growing on my ovaries and stuff. It might affect all the babies I don’t care to have in the future.”

Elain is the first to speak. “You always wanted to be a mother.” Her voice is soft, almost mourning. It irritates the hell out of Nesta.

“No, I didn’t,” she snaps back.

“You did,” Elain insists. Feyre still hasn’t said anything. “You took care of our cat, Mittens, until the day she died. You taught Feyre her alphabet. You raised me when Mama and Papa were too busy to do it. You never carried dolls around in strollers or anything, but you loved being a mother.”

“I don’t remember any of this,” Feyre says, blinking. “I’m sorry, can we go back to the endometriosis part?”

Nesta sips from her tea, the bitter taste a welcome distraction from Elain’s words. “What about it?”

“How long have you known?” Feyre demands.

“It isn’t cancer. And I’m getting treated, obviously. I’m fine.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Nesta sighs, setting her cup down. “October. Cassian made me go to the doctor because he was worried about my periods, we had a big fight about health insurance, and now I use my salary from your boyfriend to afford medication so I don’t feel like dying every month. Is that everything you wanted to hear?”

Feyre only stares at her, for once revealing no emotion. “I keep forgetting,” she says finally, “that we’re not at a place to share things like that with each other. I keep being surprised every time I realize how much of your life you keep from us.”

“I don’t,” Elain huffs under her breath while she tears a croissant in half.

Nesta is still watching Feyre. “You remember how bad my cycles were? I would cry loud enough at night to wake the house.”

Feyre flinches at the memory, and Elain goes still.

“But no one ever woke up,” Nesta says. They never talked about it before, and she has no desire to keep speaking about it now. If they start to tally all the hurts they’ve dealt to each other, Nesta fears they’ll be here for hours. Worse, she fears she will lose.

She reaches for a lavender macaron and delicately pulls it apart, studying the cream filling inside. “Did you know they make these using the lavender flowers from the garden outside?”

“I hate lavender,” Elain says.

Spying her chance to shift the subject off herself, Nesta goes for it. “Because Azriel smells like lavender?” She pushes one half of the dainty cookie past her lips, chewing. “It’s an interesting cologne choice, I agree.”

“Wait, what are we talking about now?” Feyre looks around, unaware that they’ve moved onto another topic.

Elain’s innocent brown eyes turn into daggers pointed at Nesta, betrayal written across her face. Nesta feels no pity for her—especially not if they’re going to sit around judging each other for keeping secrets.

Feyre’s eyes widen and she turns to Elain. “Is it about your,” she lowers her voice and whispers, “crush?”

Nesta raises a skeptical brow. She doubts whatever Az and Elain have stops at just a crush.

“No, it’s not,” Elain answers determinedly. “God, do you have to bring men into everything, Nesta?”

“I think you’re projecting.”

“Quit it,” Feyre snaps at the both of them. “Or I’ll grab my things and leave.”

Do it, Nesta almost dares. But she has a feeling that Feyre means it, that she won’t submit to being taunted, so Nesta reins the words back from the tip of her tongue. After all, this tea is expensive.

The sisters take a moment to settle, and Feyre is the one to restart the conversation. “Either way,” she tells Nesta, “it looks like counseling is going really well for you. I’m glad.”

“Yeah, it really gives your skin a certain glow,” Elain drawls.

Nesta doesn’t rise to meet her sarcasm. In all seriousness, Elain and Feyre could probably use a therapist themselves. It might make Nesta’s interactions with them less headache-inducing.

“You should visit one day,” she throws the suggestion out without thinking.

“What, like a therapy session?” Feyre says.

Realizing the implications of her terrible idea, Nesta forces herself not to backpedal. “Yes,” she makes herself grit out. “If you’re interested, that is.”

Elain and Feyre share a glance of hesitation and concern. It’s a glance that grates on Nesta’s nerves, but she keeps her mouth shut and waits for a response.

Feyre answers first: “We’ll do it.”

Elain looks more doubtful, but seems to realize that refusing to go would paint her in a negative light. We can’t have that, can we? Nesta thinks wryly. She reaches for some macarons and starts stuffing them into her purse. “Sounds good. Great.” It is not at all great. Having her sisters in the same room as her and Lana might just be terrible enough to ruin Nesta’s next month or two.

“I’ll text you the details whenever I feel like it,” she tells Feyre and Elain as she rises out of her seat. Likely not for as long as possible.

“Where are you going?” Elain demands.

“I’m leaving.” Nesta pointedly drapes her coat over her shoulders, picking up her purse. “I have plans for the rest of the day, sorry.” Plans to get home and rate Gwyn’s work crush on a scale of one to ten. Maybe she’ll rewatch a sitcom if she has time.

“But it’s only been an hour,” Feyre protests.

Did Feyre think they would be spending the whole day together? Nesta wants to shudder at the mere idea of it, but she somehow… feels bad for her sister. “Maybe another time,” she promises vaguely. To provide some sort of reassurance, she adds, “I had fun today. Thanks for pulling this together.” The words are hollow, fake, and she’s probably a hypocrite for not being able to return the same sincerity she demanded from Feyre. But honesty isn’t going to get Nesta very far today, so this false politeness is the best she can manage.

Elain looks somewhat relieved, and Feyre looks disappointed but unsurprised. “Alright.” The girls nod at her. “Get home safe.”

She turns and leaves as soon as she’s given the green light.

A stale scent greets Nesta when she enters her apartment, reminding her that she hasn’t been around in days. In her defense, the winter months are easier to bear in Cassian’s heated cabin than in a poorly insulated basement.

Flicking the lights on, Nesta books it to the thermostat, her teeth nearly chattering out of her body. After turning the heat as high as it can go, she climbs beneath the covers of her bed without bothering to take her coat off. She doesn’t take out her phone to text the groupchat like she promised she would. She doesn’t even get her laptop to turn Netflix on. Rather, her focus is caught on the framed picture of her and Cassian sitting atop the dresser.

Everything was okay as she stepped out of the tea house. It wasn’t until she was inside her car that it came upon her: the whirlwind of emotions that had stayed so carefully hidden while she chatted with her sisters. All throughout the drive home, her mind kept returning to that one topic. Children.

Elain said that Nesta used to genuinely enjoy playing substitute mother when they were children, and she was right. But that was all fun and games, like playing teacher. What Elain left out was what happened after their actual mother died and their father went into debt, leaving all three girls in need of a parent figure. Nesta wasn’t a mother then—or at least, not a good one.

Now, she stares at the picture full of smiley cheeks and windblown hair, remembering the night that she realized she wanted to hold Cassian’s hand in hers.

She can’t imagine Cassian not wanting kids. They’ve never discussed it, but it’s so obvious to anyone who’s ever met him: he has too much love to give away to not one day end up with a whole brood of children. The thought makes Nesta’s stomach churn.

***

“Thanks again, guys.” Cassian shakes hands with his team as they file out of the conference room, all of them dressed professionally while he lingers in his hoodie. As soon as the last worker is out the door, he pulls out his phone, ready to shoot Nesta a message. She met up with her sisters alone today for the first time in a year, and he can’t wait any longer to find out if their brunch ended in a fight or not.

He clicks on his phone to find two texts from his brother, sent not too long ago.

Rhys: You’re in the office today for the monthly check-in, right?

Rhys: Don’t leave after the meeting is over. I’ll be there in an hour to introduce you to the new guy heading the Milan project.

Cassian frowns, confused. Rhys and the new guy are coming all the way up here to meet him? He didn’t know he was that important to the project.

While he waits for his unexpected guests, Cassian texts Nesta twice, and only receives a single short response saying she got home safe. Resolving to call and have a real conversation with her later, he gets up to change into the spare buttondown and pressed slacks he keeps in a locker in his office. If Rhys wants him to play the part of company boss, then he might as well look the part.

He’s adjusting the cuffs of his dark-colored shirt when the door to his office opens without warning, and Rhysand strides in followed by a stiff-looking young man.

Cassian eyes the stranger up and down first, trying to get a read on him the way he’s seen Nesta and Rhys read others. He doesn’t come up with a single thing, as usual, but he hopes he achieved his goal of looking intimidating.

“Cass,” Rhys greets him with a subdued nod, in full CEO mode. “This is our new hire, Keith O’Connell. I snagged him from right under Vanserra & Co.’s noses.” His near-violet eyes gleam with pride. “He’s going to be working out of Milan for us starting this summer.”

“Sounds good to me.” Cassian smiles lazily, and this is something he doesn’t need to fake—confidence. He reaches out to shake Keith’s hand. “Hi. I’m Cassian Madani.”

“Good to meet you.” The other man shakes back, but his grip is too tight, like he’s trying to break Cassian’s hand. Try-hard, a voice that sounds like Nesta tells him. Uses arrogance to cover up his insecurity.

Cassian takes it all into account as he pulls his hand away, seeing Keith through clearer eyes. His dark brown hair is slicked back with copious amounts of hair product, and a shrewd black gaze takes in every detail of the office. He stands like he’s attempting to seem taller than he actually is.

A typical white-collar worker looking for a way up the corporate ladder, Cassian concludes. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but there must be a reason Rhys is so excited about him.

“Keith is starting here at your branch next week,” Rhys is saying when Cassian refocuses.

He blinks, unsure if he heard correctly. “What, all the way out here?” Away from Velaris in this modest mountain town?

“We agreed it was best if you two work together as closely as possible while preparing for the summer launch. Since you can’t come to Velaris, that means Keith comes here.”

Cassian looks at Rhys in astonishment. He thought that once he rejected the Milan position, he’d cleaned his hands of the job for good. Clearly he was wrong. “Just how involved am I going to be on this project?”

Rhys grins back at him. “You’ll lead from home base, of course.”

Cassian glares. Rhys responds with a look that says they’ll talk about this later.

Keith seems to find the idea of working alongside another person as distasteful as Cassian finds it unexpected, but he says anyway, “I can’t wait to start working together. I have a lot of ideas for the Italian outpost that I think you’ll appreciate.”

“I’m sure I will,” Cassian hums. “When do you start again?”

“Next Monday.”

“Then we should talk then.” Cassian gestures out the door. Keith looks taken aback, likely having expected more out of this meeting. But Cassian can’t meet with this guy until he gets a hold of what the fuck is going on. After shepherding Keith out of the office and shutting the door after him, he turns to Rhys with a raised brow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rhys warns. “Your role in this project is serious.”

“This project isn’t even part of my job description. What am I supposed to know about international business conductions?”

“You know enough to keep an eye on that O’Connell kid for me.” Rhys leans against Cassian’s desk as if it’s his own and crosses his feet. “He’s an asset to the company, but he also worked for our competitors up to a couple of months ago. I can’t trust him to manage this thing on his own, and I don’t have the time or resources right now to watch over him myself. That’s why the duty falls to you.”

“I manage security,” Cassian states, in case it wasn’t obvious. “What about Az?”

“Az has his own things to handle.” Rhys waves him off. “Just do what I tell you to, will you? Pay attention to O’Connell for the duration of the Italy venture and make sure he doesn’t steer our ship off course. You’ll get paid triple for the extra hours.”

“I don’t need triple,” Cassian grumbles, but Rhys is no longer listening. He’s typing on his phone and already heading for the door.

“Feyre and I are having dinner here before heading back home,” he calls over his shoulder. “See you later; I believe in you!” The door shuts after him, leaving Cassian alone.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies to the empty room.

Cassian leaves not long after Rhysand does, having no excuse to linger. Outside, he’s greeted with a surprise leaning against the hood of his truck.

Nesta pushes off the hood as soon as he catches notice of her. “Long day?” she asks.

He laughs for the first time all afternoon, the sound surprised and genuine. “I was just thinking about you.”

“That’s why I’m here. I heard your thoughts.” There’s a light in her pale eyes that only burns whenever she looks at him. It’s the same light that powers her ability to make jokes and let her guard down around him in a way she can’t with most others, and Cassian is especially grateful for it today.

Nesta reaches out and takes his hand into hers. He watches the way their palms fit together in endless fascination, his brown fingers a stark contrast against her white ones. He squeezes once and looks back up at her. “How did meeting your sisters go? You never told me.”

The light flickers so briefly Cassian wonders if it’s a trick of his eyes. But then Nesta is there again, at full brightness. She squeezes his hand back. “Take me home. I’ll tell you all about it.”

***

a/n: i love writing stuff related to cassian’s job i’ll just be throwing random words in there and calling it business jargon

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog

#a favor #ncssianwrites #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

[depressing-debbie]

Are you still doing the fluff alphabet? If so, could you do Levi?? Thank you 😘

Absolutely! Fluff alphabet masterlist is here

School may be crashing and burning but at least I’ve got time to write :) lmao

I wrote this at 3 AM and I refuse to edit, so enjoy <3

Fluff Alphabet: Levi

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

I honestly don’t think the activity matters to him. He likes to stay home a lot because it’s easier, and because he feels more comfortable somewhere private. Big fancy dates aren’t super common because he views expensive romantic dinners and such as a cliche that he’s too old and mature for, but if it’s something his s/o would be excited about, he’d be secretly excited to indulge sometimes. He’d also probably enjoy museums and art galleries. But again, for the most part, he just wants to spend time with them, it doesn’t matter where.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Levi’s definitely not an appearance-oriented person. Don’t get me wrong, he thinks his s/o is stunning, and he makes sure they know it. But that’s not what he admires about them, their connection is so much deeper than that. He genuinely sees them for who they are and not what they look like, which is why they’re just so beautiful to him, if that makes sense. 

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He probably panicked the first time he saw his s/o struggling. He’s not the most in tune with his emotions, so he especially doesn’t know how to help others with this kind of thing. But I feel like his protective instincts would kick in and he would actually be really comforting. Most likely, he’d just sit by his s/o’s side silently and make his presence known until they were feeling well enough to talk. At which point he hears them out and offers some advice, of course with the perfect amount of sarcasm and shit jokes to cheer them up a bit. And he’d probably ask them later what they would prefer he do in that situation if it happens again, which of course he would remember in the future.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

This is a point of internal conflict for Levi, for sure. After everything he’s been through, again, he’s become pretty emotionally closed off. He can’t really depend on anything or anyone staying in his life for too long because they never have. So it would really take a while before Levi can really start to picture his future with his s/o. Even then, he would feel a bit guilty for allowing himself to indulge in those dreams. But at the end of the day, he just dreams about some sort of stability with his s/o some day. He doesn’t really care about the details, he just wants to know that they’re going to be together, and that they can develop some kind of routine and stability that he never really had in the past.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It’s definitely equal. Levi shares any decision-making with his s/o, and he’d definitely prefer that they do the same, just because that makes their partnership stronger. Because they are very much a team.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Levi does tend to have a bit of a temper, but it’s not something that he would ever want to bring into his relationship. He doesn’t let either of them fight over something petty just because it’s not worth it. And with a more serious disagreement, he’d try hard to start a genuine discussion about it. Things happen, though, so they obviously get in fights sometimes. Levi can be kind of rude when he gets really frustrated, which is why he tries to avoid it. But he’d never actually say something to hurt his s/o, even when they’re both upset. Usually, even the rare argument calms down enough to be settled rationally.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He is so incredibly grateful for his s/o; he sees and appreciates everything they do for him, and he makes sure it’s known. Explicitly saying something like that makes him a bit uncomfortable, so he finds other ways to silently show his gratitude. He makes sure his s/o’s favorite mug is always clean, and he makes them his favorite blend of tea whenever he sees that they’re stressed out. Just little things that he does to make sure they know he’s thinking about them.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

There are pretty much no secrets in the relationship. The past is a little complicated; there are a few stories that Levi probably will never be able to share (or at least, it will take a very long time), and his s/o is more than entitled to keep secrets about their past that they just cannot share. But other than that, it’s an open book. Levi wouldn’t see any reason to lie about most things, unless it’s about keeping his s/o safe, and it would make him really uncomfortable to know that his s/o keeps secrets. Not that there are no boundaries, it’s just that he wouldn’t want to pour his heart out and be vulnerable just to find out that the other person doesn’t trust him as much.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think Levi’s s/o probably helps him a lot, actually. He’s been emotionally closed off for a long time, and being in a relationship with trust and a deep connection would help him to open up a bit and be more vulnerable. He also just lets himself be a bit happier and more optimistic with his s/o, so his life is just a bit easier in general.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He’d never admit it out loud, but he actually does get pretty jealous. It’s mostly just self esteem issues, not a lack of trust at all. He trusts them more than enough to know that they’re not going to secretly abandon him, so of course he’d never make a big deal out of it (although I think it goes without saying that if someone is hitting on his s/o or something in public and they look remotely uncomfortable, he would go absolutely batshit) But, still, sometimes he can’t help feeling sometimes like he’s not enough for them. He tries to hide it, but it’s pretty obvious that he’s sulking when he’s upset, so his s/o would most likely spot it immediately. And all he would really need is a gentle reminder that he IS enough for them.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Alright I’m conflicted on this one. I’m just gonna say it, his first kiss with his s/o was kind of just not that great. He wouldn’t DARE not ask for proper consent, HOWEVER he ended up asking like three times just to make sure it was alright, which made it a teensy bit awkward. Once he finally gave in, he just gave them the teensiest little kiss and that was it for like two weeks. He’s not really great with physical touch so it takes a while for him to get comfortable. His s/o would probably have to take over from there or else they’d never kiss again, but once he gets comfortable, he does fine.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It’s during something incredibly mundane, probably just a car drive or a regular movie night. He’s going about his day when he realizes he loves them, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna stew on that knowledge for another two weeks just because he’s too nervous. So in the middle of a movie or just like halfway home from the store, he just blurts out “hey, I love you”. It’s completely by surprise, but it’s not like it’s particularly early or far into the relationship, so it makes sense. From then on, he wouldn’t be the type of person to say it all the time (I mean, come on, his s/o should know by now, it’d just be stupid). But he also wouldn’t hold himself back from saying it when he’s feeling particularly grateful for his s/o one day. And hearing them say it back would definitely make him blush just the slightest bit every time.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Levi would be absolutely terrified to get married. BUT that’s not to say that he wouldn’t want to. It would take some considering, sure, but especially if it’s something he knows his s/o wants, he’s all in. He’d probably propose in a similar way to how he first said he loves them, except at least just a bit more planned out. It wouldn’t be a cliche grand proposal with doves and rose petals and champagne, that would drive him crazy. Most likely, he surprises them with a homemade dinner, sets the table with candles, and hands them the ring. He’d put on a confident face, but he’s panicking for sure. He’s not really a marriage-y person, so he’s not going to be buying those matching couple towels that have like “mr ackerman” and his s/o’s name on them, and he’s most definitely not giving in to those cheesy weird nicknames (”hubby” makes him glare so hard). But he would love the perceived sense of stability, commitment, and routine that go along with marriage.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Just their name, for the most part. Maybe “love” or “sweetheart”, but he always says that most nicknames are just too cliche. I mean, only lovestruck 20 year olds call each other “babe”, and that is most certainly not their relationship. But, honestly he wouldn’t mind if his s/o gave him one of those cheesy names... not that he’d ever let on to that, of course, but if they happen to figure it out one day... he wouldn’t be mad. Mostly he just loves to hear his name in their voice, so they call each other by their names. 

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

The token stoic expression Levi keeps in public isn’t going away just because he’s in love. To an outside eye, absolutely nothing is different. But even in public, his s/o can probably tell. Maybe it’s something about the way his eyes are just slightly warmer, slightly brighter. Maybe it’s because he’s just the slightest bit more willing to talk and hold a conversation when they’re by his side. But when they’re alone, he finally lets down that stone expression, and he’s like a whole different person. It doesn’t happen often, but on days where he’s just absolutely lovestruck, he walks around his house smiling, holding his s/o’s hand, maybe even curling up on the sofa together to nap. On those days, he just kind of lets himself be happy. 

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Levi’s definitely not a fan of PDA. The relationship isn’t a secret by any means, but he’s also not broadcasting it for the entire world to see. The people close to him know, and that’s plenty. He doesn’t like PDA partly because it’s too vulnerable, but also just because it’s kind of gross and unnecessary to him.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

This man has the best memory of anyone you’ll ever meet. It’s honestly a bit unsettling, but he remembers everything his s/o says, and he’ll find a way to bring it up like months later. Sometimes it’s as simple as remembering their favorite food and bringing it to them when they’re stressed out. But it could even be so crazy as them saying in a random conversation in July that they hate when mashed potatoes aren’t totally mashed, and boom, at Thanksgiving that year, they find him mashing the potatoes a little extra just to make sure. (Don’t ask how I came up with that example, my brain is weird.) His mind is a steel trap, and he uses it to his advantage.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Cliche romance irritates him so much, he avoids it at all costs, so he’s mostly creative in that sense. He has an eye for picking out ways to make his s/o happy, and even though he doesn’t consider himself particularly romantic, he actually really is.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Absolutely! Levi wants nothing more than to help his s/o achieve whatever they’re working towards, and he’s completely supportive. Anything he can do, any help or emotional support he can offer them, he’s more than willing. 

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

I don’t think he’s AGAINST trying new things, but he really just prefers a routine. Again, it makes him happy to have that connection of stability with his s/o, and he feels so much more comfortable knowing he can depend on that.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He’s very empathetic. He might struggle sometimes with understanding, just because it’s not very likely that he and his s/o have had similar experiences in life, but he knows them like the back of his hand. What he lacks in immediate understanding, he makes up for in conversations about any issues and an ability to read their expressions really really well.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Honestly, if Levi is in a long term relationship with someone, they’re one of the most important parts of his life. He doesn’t make superficial connections, and he especially doesn’t open up to people he doesn’t care deeply about, so it’s safe to say that he values his s/o greatly. 

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He buys his s/o flowers once a week. It’s just a little tradition that makes him happy, and he likes seeing that it makes his s/o happy, so he’s kept it going. If they don’t like flowers, then maybe it’s a little trinket they collect, or a cookie from their favorite bakery. But regardless, he hasn’t missed a week since they’ve been together, it’s really important to him.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He’s not necessarily an overly affectionate person. There are occasional days where it really just hits him how lucky he is, and he just wants to hold his s/o for a while and not go do anything that day. But for the most part, he’s not clingy in any means, and his s/o would have to initiate most cuddling. He’ll let them know if he’s really not in the mood, but he usually doesn’t mind (because let’s face it he’s a teensy bit touch starved). But yeah, he shows his affection in different ways for the most part.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

It’s not really an issue for him. He’s always been an independent person, so even after he lets himself trust that his s/o isn’t leaving him, he’s not going to be that level of dependent on their presence. He probably would have to fill up his schedule a bit more, though, just so he didn’t have too much down time to get all sad and miss them. He’d also probably clean everything in his sight to calm down until they return.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’s zealous for sure, he isn’t about to let go of a relationship that means this much to him just because he wasn’t willing to put in the work. He’d do as much as he could to make it work. 

#attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #aot headcanons #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #shingeki no kyojin headcanons #snk headcanons #levi #levi ackerman #fluff alphabet #levi fluff

[missvifdor]

(The continuation of this post where during a spell class a portal opened and the boys' female doubles as well as MC's appeared in the class) (I think I could make it an independent "story" for the adventures of my MC /OC /YUU)

My MC /OC /YUU and his double crossing the gaze in the class: * Double bi panic *

*Now we will have to find a solution to bring these young ladies and this gentleman back to their reality, but in the meantime here is the look of our twisted guys if they were girls*

Dorm leaders:

Riddle: Looks both serious and cute, with a round cheeky face and big eyes with long thick lashes as well as a pretty pixie haircut. Obviously she stays small but is always bigger than my MC OC YUU, her voice both soft and sharp, a very interesting contrast.

Leona: Made more of a woman than a young girl, still has magnificent hair, bewitching eyes and has a very toned and nicely muscular body. His voice is deep with that tone both seductive and bored. She knows perfectly well that she is beautiful, that she has charm and adores the handset with her immense intelligence. It's an absolutely formidable combo. She is the same height as her male double.

Azul: Gives that mafia-like aura (Or Sugar Mummy), with her hair styled in an impeccable bun and her tailor that is both professional and flatters her gorgeous figure perfectly. Her smile is both sweet and dangerous. But we all know that deep down she is a sweet girl who needs reassurance and who needs to realize how smart, hardworking, and beautiful she is (and we know any of us don't would stop proving it to her). She must be two or three centimeters shorter than her male double.

Kalim: She's still a sun ball and a full cinnamon roll! So positive and supportive! Tie up her long silver hair with a cute headband and always do her makeup in warm tones (where instead Jamil helps her with her makeup like that). Always wears tons of gold bracelets on her wrists and ankles, is very tactile, and has no problem cuddling the people she loves and appreciates! Is the kind of friend who makes sure you eat well and that you don't miss anything. (I can see her thinking that she and Jamil have more of a sister relationship than a master and servant relationship). Is exactly the same size as her male double.

Vil: Let's be honest here, Vil would be the most gorgeous woman who hasn't set foot at Night Raven College for decades after The Beautiful Queen! You almost feel like she's straight out of a fashion magazine but no, it's just that our Reine des Poisons takes so much care of her and works so hard to come to such potential! Her magnificent hair would reach her shoulders, her voice would be as beautiful as honey on a slice of bread and her makeup and manicure would be as perfect as it gets! Maybe she would be a little taller than her male double (even without heels). (I don't know why but apart from her care and makeup, I also see her very well making her own jewelry as well as her perfume).

Idia: Haired with two long, fiery quilts, she would be more the type to have an e-girl style but with very loose clothes that would not show her forms (the poor one does not realize that she has the potential to become a model for lingerie). Her voice would be both sweet and high-pitched, and she could also be smaller than her male double. (And Husbando, so many Husbando!). Doesn't trust her smile because of her sharp teeth but that is her charm and she is so fucking cute! Maybe she would be more organized and manic than her double even if her room would still be in a very big mess (at least she didn't leave her underwear lying around in plain sight, she would die of shame if anyone saw the cute and childish little designs on it).

Malleus: This woman ... Would be exactly the same size as her male double! And she would be so beautiful and elegant! With long black hair that she would let hang down her back, as well as her incredible figure! (Also gives those Magical Sugar Mummy vibes). His voice, by all the gods ... The most sensual and that playful note we've ever heard. Her voice is also so deep and sweet (let's not even talk about her laugh or I'll die of happiness). Still gives that awesome and intimidating impression on people but is so sweet when you get to know her (Always make that adorable pout when she's sad or upset, you feel like hugging her tight and telling her that even though she is scary in the early days, she's the sweetest person we've ever met!).

The Vice-leader:

Trey: Don't lie to each other, give these married vibes over and over again. But beware, also hides his game very well because in private ... 🥵. Her beautiful hair tied in a ponytail and her voice in playful tones. Would be the type to wear stockings with his uniform and is the same size as his male double. Smells like cake and vanilla, it's both so nice and it also makes you so hungry!

Ruggie: Is quite skinny because as we know Ruggie often endures difficult months. Short and messy hair, has a cheerful voice and an infectious laugh (Quite fond of pretty things in the background, but since she doesn't have much money, she can't really afford it. If she could, she would certainly treat herself to some pretty hair accessories). Perhaps an unacknowledged Tsundere side. Since she cannot feed herself properly for someone her age, she is most certainly smaller than the average for a Beast Woman. Would probably like to have a cuter look, unfortunately she can't afford it as she doesn't want to look "weak".

Jade: Holy shit, this woman is so dangerous and sweetly sadistic, if you ever pique her interest and she likes you on top of that, I'm sorry for you. Her body is certainly muscular and graceful (She also has quite incredible strength). Has long, wavy hair that she wears half-loose and is exactly the same height as her male double. Her voice and at the same time so soft and cold, you don't know if you should feel comfortable or on the contrary, run as far as possible. Obviously loves going for long hikes, (Her legs are so muscular, if she catches you with that, you won't be able to go anywhere). His tone is so teasing, you can't resist him for long.

Jamil: Very tall, even a few inches taller than her male double. Just like Trey, she smells so good, like cinnamon. Has a fairly athletic build, and remained a very, very good dancer. Very skillful, maybe makes her own wrist and ankle bracelets, also wears a lot of jewelry (not as expensive as Kalim's, but still very pretty and it shows her really well, especially the snake designs ), also wears a lot of ear piercings. His hair is very long, silky, and worn the same way as the male Jamil (maybe with extra pearls in his hair). Her voice is deep (sensual) and with a note of irony and sarcasm. Her make up apply lightly but always in such beautiful warm tones (she also highlights her cheekbones), especially with eyeliner to highlight her intense gaze.

Rook: His hair is worn in the same way as the male Rook, also wears a multitude of hats as well as pretty earrings. Likes to tease those around her, smiling and bright. Has a French accent, of course. But remains someone dangerous in the end. Is the same height as her double, is athletic, skillful and has excellent eyesight (Normal for a hunter). See beauty in everything and everyone! Don't you think you're handsome? Rook will give you ten points for why she thinks you are beautiful and why you should stop thinking that way because otherwise she will stalk you until you accept this truth. Her voice is happy and confident, deep and warm. May like to wear accessories like long socks with natural or animal designs. Specialized in throwing knives.

Ortho: So cute! The little sister you will want to protect at the risk of your life! So smart and friendly, curious too. Wears a cute fiery pixie hairstyle and has a cheerful, thin voice. Is so small and skinny.

Lilia: Oh boy ... see Draculaura from Monster Hight? She has the same look. So much into jokes, loves to surprise people to scare them. Her voice contrasts completely with her appearance since it is deep and velvety. Same size as her male double. Even though she looks so young, she still acts like a child mom. (Obviously, is always so bad in the kitchen, she brings out stuff, sometimes you are afraid that it will come to life to devour you). Despite her jokes, she is still very good advice and listens.

The rest of our boys:

Cater: If fashionable, is certainly a great influencer. Cater pays so much attention to everything, especially the little details and accessories that she wear. Makeup always on top and colorful, could become a model if she wanted. Is smaller than her male double. Joyful and higher pitched voice, her hair is a bundle of silky curls always worn in a cute way (Like Ariana Grande). (Has a multitude of fans and contenders) carefree and likes to give cute or silly nicknames to people she loves and appreciates. Would be the type to flirt with his friends for fun. Probably has a passion for nail art and would be so proud to show off her designs on her Magicam account! Would act with the first years like a big sister although she is not always good advice. She is so teasing.

Ace: Short, messy hair! Pretty tomboy style, enjoys teasing others too much for his own good, always smiling like shit and communicative. Is a sporty person, and quite arrogant, maybe also a little Tsundere side. Is a hopeless hideaway romantic. Even though she likes to do her makeup, she doesn't like taking fifteen years to do it and does the minimum required. Of course has a more feminine side when she's out of school, but honestly, feminine clothes are never practical for big movements. Act confidently but not too deep down. Her voice is happy and dynamic. Is one or two centimeters smaller than her male double. Likes to wear necklaces and chokers. Rather skinny but not as much as Ruggie.

Deuce: So sweet and so want to do her best to make her mom proud of her. Wearing long hair tied in a low ponytail, her voice is high-pitched and strong. Is quite tall (even taller than her male double). Read romance books on the sly but can't help herself when someone finds out. Probably already dyed his hair blonde during his delinquent period and dyed it before entering Night Raven College. Likes to wear barrettes in her hair, also does her best with her makeup but was not used to it before (it was mainly Ace who taught her everything she knows). Secretly loves wearing skirts and dresses, she hasn't been able to experience it before because she didn't think it would look pretty on her (But she's actually pretty). Certainly be shy and insecure when she finds new people, afraid of doing things badly. Blushes so easily that it is funny. When his delinquent side resurfaces, his voice becomes more serious, threatening, his posture leaves no room for shyness! She might want to change for the better, but that doesn't mean she's going to let others do if they want to bully her!

Jack: Do you see Jasper in the Steven Universe? You now have Jack as a woman. She is muscular and strong! The part she's most proud of is her muscular back! His silvery hair his savage and remained indomitable (But that gives him a crazy charm). Don't take shit from people and still is a Tsundere. But her wagging tail always betrayed her about her emotions, as well as her ears. Same size as her male double. Secretly loves cute things and certainly has an army of adorable stuffed animals in her room in Savanaclaw. Wears a biker style, and because she lives in a cold region with her family, she doesn't get cold easily, so her muscular arms are uncovered all the time (for your viewing pleasure 😏). Her voice is serious, so serious! But if you're friends, you definitely hear that thoughtful little note in her voice. If his male version is the Best Boy, his female version is the Best Girl! She takes care of those she loves and is always ready to help!

Floyd: Is exactly the same size as his male double. Wear her hair short cut in a boyish style (she doesn't have the time or the energy to dwell on her hair). Her voice has high notes, especially when she finds something or someone cute! Very expressive, has no filter. Like her sister, she is muscular and graceful. Her dress style could be similar to those of men in the 40's (she much prefers masculine clothes because it is more comfortable and she doesn't have to worry about her chest with large shirts. does not have to wear a bra!). Love accessories like earrings or piercings. Has immense strength and doesn't always control it. Dislikes makeup, she doesn't want to bother with it (but finds it charming on others, that's just her personal opinion). If its male version is not to be upset, it also works with its female version! Especially when it is at this time of the month, run away poor fools!

Epel: The same problem as with its male version! Except that instead of being manly, she wants us to find her sexy and not cute! All her life in her hometown has not to stop telling her that she was cute! Really ? Was she nothing else ?! She wants people she finds attractive to find her sexy, not cute! Just because she is petite, because she has big, innocent eyes and a round, youthful face, doesn't mean it's her definition of beauty or femininity! Much like her appearance, her voice is cute, slender. Her hair is long, wavy and held up with a red ribbon in an elegant manner. Compare to her male version, Vil lets her speak with her accent because it is one of her charm assets. Her face is decorated with delicate freckles. Is quite skinny with a tiny bit of shape but not a lot (let's say she has a lot more than Riddle). Epel is a little smaller than the male Epel, but not much.

Silver: She is the equivalent of Disney Princess Aurora. Except that, unlike, even if she falls asleep anywhere, she doesn't need a knight to protect her, she is her own knight! Remain a formidable swordsman! In spite of everything, remains someone calm and taciturn, very easygoing. She is very fond of animals and as they naturally flock to her, she is very happy about this fact. Wear her hair up to the shoulders and tie it in a ponytail for practice. She has a fairly toned body, but not too much. Her voice is soft and measured. She is much smaller than her male double.

Sebek: Acts hard but is so soft in the end. Looks pissed off all the time but that's just her natural expression. Wears her hair like her male version, and is the same size. Her voice carries so far, it's very impressive the first time you hear her! It is a bit sharp, but not in an unpleasant way. Carries so much esteem and respect towards Malleus, she would also like so much to be like her but she would never dare to compare herself to her! Blushes so hard and so quickly if you press the right buttons, it's so funny to see her get annoyed! Her figure is quite toned and sporty.

And finally, My MC /OC /YUU: Just like his female version, he wears round glasses, is always 150cm tall and has long wavy hair. Has fairly broad shoulders and is slightly muscular without really being so. Does everything possible to make girls feel comfortable and safe in his presence! He knows how exhausting the life and daily life of women is because of societal pressures and the male gaze. He knows that because of assholes, women are afraid of men and are afraid to even be in the same room as them, so he will do his best to ensure that she never feels that way around him! And if someone has the audacity to make one of them feel these feelings, oh boy ... that person won't last long! He was raised by his mother alone, and she taught him respect, consent and righteous values. He is an ally, so rest assured 😊😉. His voice is soft and serious (Also watching him get angry and argued in French is quite impressive! The sound of Rs in his mouth sounds even more aggressive).

#Twisted boys girl!au #Girls!au #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland imagines #Disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #Twst #twst x reader #Twisted boys #Savanaclaw #Heatslabyul #octavinelle #Scarabia #pomefiore #Ignihyde #Diasomnia

[supremeinlilac]

The Weeping Angel

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2007

Warnings: none???

Summary: An introduction story with Billie Dean, how you met on the Hotel Cortez's devils night

A/N: For @lilypadscoven !! Thank you for always pushing me and being so supportive, here's your little Billie fic :)) ps sorry for any mistakes, I have yet to go through it <3

Gif by: @illuminated-blue

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to spend a night in a sketchy motel in downtown LA, and although you’d hoped you’d gotten yourself to a place where you wouldn’t need to rely on them, you knew it wouldn’t be your last.

The wallpaper was dusty, peeling at the join of the ceiling to reveal the damp clinging to the walls. You tried to ignore the mildew that crept across from the corners, dark and whispering and eery against the dirty white paint.

There was a hole where a past resident had quite obviously punched through the wall and into the bathroom, showing the fragility of the plaster that separated you from the rooms next to you. The room was alive with past anger, souls in the walls with spindly arms that reached for the living.

It was cold, and you shivered beneath the itch of the hotel blanket, wrapped loosely around your shoulders. The motel windows did nothing to still the cool draft of the city night, allowing it to cut through ill-sealed panes.

You’d left your college accommodation earlier that evening, clothes thrown haphazardly into a rucksack as you’d hurried to leave. You hadn’t time to collect your personal belongings in the rush, so you knew you’d have to return there at some point.

There was no point worrying about the why’s now, you were locked in the room and you were safe. Safely unsafe in one of the roughest areas you could find, but you knew they wouldn’t think to look here. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the details of your leaving.

You could hear the almost constant wail of sirens as police cars zipped past the motel, piercing and fading as they neared and went.

You sat with your back against the wall, in the space beside the bed. Your laptop balanced on your crossed legs, you connected to the flaky hotel Wi-Fi to try and get some of your college work completed before your food arrived. You still needed to keep up with your work if you were to have any semblance of a future.

A muffled sniff broke your concentration, cutting through the thin wall to you. Trying not to pry, you refocused on the illuminated screen, words blurring as the sound didn’t cease behind you. Sighing, you tore your eyes away from your work and onto the floor.

You were meant to be keeping a low profile, goddamn it.

Listening, an ear to the rough wallpaper, you closed your eyes to better gage if the occupant next to you was simply unwell or was crying. You settled upon the latter when a clatter of what you assumed was the bedside lamp fell to the floor, and the sniffling intensified.

“Are you alright?” you spoke to the wall, wrapping your knuckles against the plaster to show that you were talking to her.

Another sniff, this one an obvious attempt to disguise it as a cough. Feminine, you concluded, closing your laptop and sliding it onto the bed so you could shuffle around.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Billie spoke, the pads of her fingers coming to wipe hesitantly under her eyes at the smear of mascara.

She stopped pacing at the sound of your voice, coming to kneel at the wall where she thought you’d come from. Unknowingly, you both reached up to the wall with searching fingers, resting on opposite sides in a fateful mirroring. Reaching out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I-” she paused, voice cracking as she shook her head in surrender, “no.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I- I can’t,” Billie confessed, forehead falling to the wall with a thud that you felt from your side.

You could practically hear the pain in her voice, the fear. You nodded in understanding, despite her not being able to see you. Luckily for the mysterious woman in room 124, you were capable in the art of distraction and it was an apt skill for moments like these.

“Okay. Well, urm- I, what’s your favourite colour?”

“I don’t- wait what?”

Her confusion had you subconsciously repeating the question, fingers pressed to the wallpaper as if you’d slip right though and into the woman’s arms, able to hold her and chase the demons that plagued her.

“Pink,” she rasped, “like the faded kind.”

You hummed, your stranger in pink.

“What’s your name?”

“Billie Dean Howard,” she paused, a small smile flickering at the corner of her mouth, “medium to the stars.”

“I’m Y/n. Medium to urm, LA?” you laughed uncomfortably, unsure of why she’d spoken her name as if a catchphrase.

Billie’s eyes narrowed to the wall momentarily, were you mocking her? She felt the tugging need to feel offended by your taunt, the familiar jolt of anger under skin. It would be easier to be mad, to rage at the world for giving her this gift and putting her in danger; but the silk to your voice softened her.

“You don’t know me?” She assumed, an expecting tone in her voice that made you faulter. You’d never really been one for reality television, even for factual programs like Billie’s.

“I’m sorry, should I?”

“No, I suppose not,” she trailed off, happy that you were in the dark about her personality. Glad you

People who knew her were curious, always asking questions she would be too eager to answer with a bat of her lashes and a confident tone. But on this occasion, she was relief that no questions would be asked.

Questions about what happened would be dangerous if answered. She knew she could never speak of the happenings if she valued her life, or those around her.

Billie Dean wasn’t stupid. But she was scared.

Your phone buzzed beside you and Billie jumped, hand to her chest to still the frantic beating of a nervous heart. Your food had arrived, and you moved away from the wall with a whispered goodbye.

Your new absence was overwhelming for the medium, panic looming as eyes darted around the dimly lit room. Lights from passing cars cast menacing shadows across the walls, each resembling ghosts from the hotel.

Reaching claws to drag her back to the Cortez, a change of their mind. Why should they let her go, when they could have much more fun with her in that chair.

Tears fell freely again and she let out a strangled sob. The phantom touch of the knife against her throat had Billie reaching up to push it away, the whir of the hand drill behind her closed eyes. She’d been so close to death, practically tasting its breath against her tongue as it mocked her.

The crack of a knock against her door pulled her from herself, and had her hastily wiping her tears with the back of her palm, smoothing down the dress with trembling hands.

Was it her, at the door, ready to finish her off?

Treading lightly against the scraping of old carpet, Billie Dean made her way to the door, fingers ghosting over the handle as she willed herself to be braver.

Through the peep hole, with Billie holding a nervous breath, she saw your back, and how you kept glancing up and down the corridor as if someone were to jump out. So you were frightened of someone, something, too. Just as she was, running.

With a shaky exhale, Billie drew the door open. You turned at the familiar click of the mechanism, a shy grin ghosting on your face as you held the takeaway bags up in silent offering.

Hello.

She was so familiar, almost as if you could reach out and touch her and remember. As if your past self was emerging to greet you again. A phoenix in fire from the ashes, a weeping angel from the rubble of death.

It’s you. It’s going to be you.

You couldn’t help but rake your eyes over the mysterious women silhouetted in the doorway. She looked out of place here. Too perfect to be haunted.

Your stranger in pink wasn’t actually your stranger in pink.

She wore a cornflower blue dress that held delicate white flowers, too dainty and too perfect to be dampened by the tears that tracked through her natural make up. It was cinched at the waist and just served to make her look ever smaller, more frightened. Like a child awoke by a nightmare.

Her hair was dishevelled, and it haloed her face in rays of glowing honey.

A weeping angel.

She wore pearls around her neck. Expensive and slightly scratched, as they get when they are someone’s favourite accessory and must be worn.

You could see where her rosy acrylics had picked her skin raw, worrying it unforgivingly between the nails. See the pain and fear reflected in her eyes, could she see it in yours too?

“Hey,” she whispered, ushering you past her and peeking into the empty corridor as if staying out in the open for too long was dangerous for the both of you. Maybe it was.

In her room you saw no belongings, nothing personal that would serve to tie her to the space around her. It was as if she were an echo before you, neither here nor there. An angel sent and trapped as a mortal, an echo.

She patted the bed beside her, drawing the table closer for you to place the bag on. You hesitantly set it down, moving to perch next to her and shyly look down at hands clasped on your lap.

Uncomfortable silence filled the air, thick and suffocating and it made your joined hands clammy with sweat. You busied yourself by unwrapping the food on the table, there wasn’t much due to your need to save money and only buying for one, but it would go round. You didn’t suspect that she’d eaten that evening either.

“Thank you.” She smiled, and you offered her one of the boxes of food with a shy glance. You assumed she meant for more than just the food. Her eyes conveyed what her words could not.

There was only one pair of chopsticks so you passed it back and forth, wordlessly, gratefully. The hum of the TV balancing upon the wall giving a welcomed distraction from talking, although you talked anyway.

You’d described your degree, your hopes and plans while she listened, the hint of a smile again on the smudged lipstick. She still looked beautiful, you thought, even with her messed up makeup and leg that bounced unrelentingly against the floor.

She still looked like an angel to you, one carved from marble, imperfectly chipped by the sculptor. Too broken to be granted eternity but ethereal all the same. A mortal angel among the living.

The angel spoke with chords of light and you were caught, hanging onto every word that dripped effortlessly from her silver tongue. She spoke about nothing, about everything.

At one point, Billie Dean reached her hand tentatively towards your, searching for the comfort of a strangers touch. You didn’t shy away from that touch; because even though there was safety in loneliness, you couldn’t help but feel the shelter from her invisible wings.

Perhaps Billie Dean Howard could be your safety, and you hers.

You knew she was running, and maybe she could run faster if she had an encouraging hand held fast in her own. Your hand. You weren’t an angel but your hands were steady. They were strong and guiding and made of your own marble. Forged by your own touch instead of the delicate chisel of an artist.

Neither of you asked the other why salty tears dried against the curve of delicate cheek bones, knowing that knowledge would do nothing but bring more pain. More pain that neither needed.

After all, misery likes company, and both of you were content to give that, even just for the night.

You hoped for more, but could learn to settle for a single moment of her presence, if that was all the weeping angel could allow.

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#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #american horror story #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs murder house

[luminnara]

The Dismemberment Song PART 2 | BOP Victor Zsasz x Reader | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey

Words:

Summary: Zsasz takes a liking to one of the burlesque dancers at Roman’s club. It turns out the two have a little history together...and they both want to do something about their unresolved tension.

PART ONE | PART TWO 

Thanks so much for reading!! I really really hope you like this, because BOP Zsasz needs more love and attention, and I, for one, am determined to give it to him! 

Words: 3,666

Warnings: Alcohol, blood, violence, mutilation, that good good smutty smut (oral, penetration), kinda dom!Zsasz

Requests are open!!

You had never been in Roman Sionis’s penthouse. It was strictly off limits to anyone he didn’t personally invite, and you didn’t even think that his favorite little bird, Dinah Lance, had been up there. Now, though, here you were, stepping out of the elevator with Zsasz on your heels as you marveled at the converted loft. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed, looking around. 

Roman’s place was filled with weird art, all sorts of exotic masks sitting on pedestals or hanging on the walls. There was a long, dark dinner table with a decorative fruit platter sitting in the center, and an open floor plan allowed to see the spacious living room surrounded by huge walls of windows that overlooked the East End. It was the perfect blend of luxurious and industrial for someone like Roman, and you sighed as you imagined yourself living somewhere so nice.

“‘Sthat all about?” Zsasz asked in that rough, low, almost drawling voice.

“Just admiring the view,” you said as you left him to go stand before the windows.

“Yeah,” Zsasz agreed. “It’s nice.”

But his eyes were on you, not the Gotham skyline.

“Do you stay here with him?” You asked, turning to look at Roman’s henchman with a bright, exuberant smile on your face, as if you hadn’t just murdered a man onstage in the club.

“I do.” Zsasz approached you, hands in his pockets as he moved in that watchful, predatory way you always saw him slinking around with. “I’ve gotta protect the boss. He needs me.”

“You must do a pretty good job of it.” You mused. Now that you were confident that Roman wasn’t going to have Zsasz peel your face off, you were allowing yourself to relax again.

“It’s my job.” He said simply, coming to stand behind you. He was so close that you could smell his cologne, his breath hot on your neck as he leaned in.

You froze.

His chest was brushing your back and you were almost certain he could hear the way your heart was hammering away in your chest. You held perfectly still, not daring to move a muscle as Zsasz brought a hand up to brush your bloodstained curls away from your shoulder.

His fingers were rough, calloused, and warm, just like the rest of him, his hands big and strong enough that you were confident he could kill you unarmed in the blink of an eye. The weird, sadistic side of you would welcome it; though you had never admitted it to anybody before, you were pretty sure that Victor Zsasz was the only man you would ever allow to kill you.

You could remember the first time you met him, years ago, when he and Roman came to your old gig to convince you to start up at the Black Mask. He had less scars back then, but still the same bleached hair and that fucking handsome stubble on his jaw. You had been entranced as you watched him follow your eventual employer around, the club owner giving them their own corner booth and all the bottle service that Roman Sionis could possibly want.

You could remember how your legs had turned to jelly when the shift manager sent you over to them, but you must have managed to hide it well, because you spent the rest of the night drinking and partying with Roman fucking Sionis. Then, obviously, one thing led to another, and you had gone to work for him.

The part you had never told anyone about, though, the part you never spoke of, was the part where Zsasz had taken you into a vip room.

You didn’t remember all the details about everything that night, but you could still recall every moment you spent on his lap. Every appreciative squeeze he gave your ass and thighs, every low moan he let out as you rocked your hips with his. You still dreamt about it once in a while, even though you were sure that it had all been something about Roman making his lackey inspect the goods before hiring you.

But still...you had loved it.

He always wore his shirts unbuttoned a fair ways down to show off the scars on his upper chest, but that night, you had gotten to see more. You could remember how you had run your fingers over them, and the way that Zsasz had watched you almost reverently. You didn’t know exactly why he etched them into himself, if it was to intimidate everyone or for some personal reason, but you didn’t find them odd or ugly. You loved the raised scar tissue and the way it felt, so smooth to the touch despite looking so gnarled, and it was one of the many reasons you had always harbored a secret liking for Victor Zsasz.

Now, as he stood so close behind you, you felt that same jelly in your legs.

“You should get cleaned up, kitten.” He said in that low voice. “The boss wouldn’t want you making a mess.”

You tilted your head slightly, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “Why don’t you show me to the shower then, Zsasz?”

It came out more sultry than you had intended, but when he responded by pressing his hips into your ass, you were glad. He caught the way your breath hitched in your throat, his eyes trained on yours as he did nothing but stare at you for a few agonizingly long moments.

“Right this way, Princess.” He finally broke away.

You brushed off your mild disappointment, mentally chastising yourself for hoping that would have gone further, and followed him down a hallway, passing a few closed doors before reaching one that stood open. When Victor stepped in and flipped the light switch, you stood and gawked at what awaited you.

Of course Roman Sionis would have the nicest guest bathroom in Gotham.

It was huge, a claw foot tub sitting against the wall across from the sink while a shower was situation at the far end. Everything was off-white and antique gold, simple and elegant and clearly very expensive.

“Holy shit,” you said under your breath, for the second time that night. “Roman doesn’t skimp out, does he?”

“The boss has expensive taste.” Zsasz said, following you in. “Get in the shower.”

You turned and looked at him. “Little privacy might be nice.”

He only stared back.

“Zsasz...?” You gave a little nod towards the door.

“Oh,” he chuckled, laughing to himself as if something had slipped his mind. “Course. Privacy.”

He turned and shut the door, still in the room with you.

You sighed.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Can’t leave you alone in here unattended.” He said, stepping towards you. “You might slip and fall.”

His voice was slightly menacing, in a way that had you almost wondering if he wasn’t going to find a way to kill you and stage your death as an accident. But you were confident in yourself. If he made any funny moves, you could get him before he got you.

Maybe.

“Fine.” You jutted your chin out defiantly. “Then why don’t you make yourself useful and go warm up the water for me while I get out of this robe?”

You expected him to roll his eyes and sneer, but he didn’t. He didn’t even refuse. He just walked right over, slid the glass shower door to the side, and turned the water on. Just like that. Obediently, as if he actually wanted to. You were so dumbfounded by it that by the time he glanced back towards you, you were still standing there, completely dressed.

He looked a bit disappointed.

“Well?” He asked.

“What? Oh.” You untied your fancy little robe and let it fall onto the tiles, still looking straight at him.

You could see his eyes trailing down your body, those dark circles under them giving him a hungry, starved look. When you hooked your thumbs in the sides of your thong and pulled it down, you saw his chest rising and falling as his breaths quickened slightly.

You smirked. Yeah, like Roman had said, Zsasz was harmless. If he had wanted to kill you, he would have by now. He’d already had a dozen chances on the way up to the penthouse.

As you walked toward the shower, he stepped to the side, seeming for a moment as if he was content to let you go in and enjoy the hot water in peace. Of course he wasn’t, though;

This was Victor Zsasz.

“Wait.” He caught your wrist just before you could step in and you were vaguely aware of the blade he flicked open with his other hand. “You need a mark.”

“What?” You stepped back, allowing him to pull you up to him.

“A mark.” He tapped one of the scars on the side of his face with the knife. “For your kill. Where do you want it?”

You weren’t sure what to say. You had never kept track of the lives you took, but...it really wasn’t that bad an idea. Plus, it seemed like Zsasz wasn’t giving you the option to refuse.

Double plus, it was kind of sexy to imagine him carving you up.

“Here.” you finally said, pointing to the center of your chest. 

Zsasz grinned, showing off those gold teeth that you loved so much. He kept his grip on your wrist but lowered your arm to your side, his knife pressing against the thin skin above your sternum. His touch was feather light, no doubt thanks to years and years of butchering people, both for Roman and for his own pleasure. He new exactly how hard to press in which areas, an expert in the art of slicing through flesh. The steel of his blade was cool and freshly sharpened, gliding along and drawing an angry, but beautiful, red line as blood oozed up and began running down your torso.

 As he dragged the knife down, you let out a hiss of discomfort, pitching forward slightly in pain. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours as his blade cut deeper, deeper, nearly down to the bone, and by the time he was finished, you had a four inch long gash ending at the top of your cleavage that was sure to scar marvelously. 

You looked down at it in wonder. Zsasz had done it so...beautifully. He made it so important, this new tally mark. And as you gazed at it, you realized you loved it because he made it. Victor Zsasz, one of Gotham City’s most fucked up criminals, had given you a scar. For somebody just as fucked up as him...well, it practically brought tears to your eyes.

Victor didn’t give you a chance to get weepy. He dropped the bloody knife into the spotless white sink, the blade clattering loudly above the sound of the shower. Zsasz moved his thumb to your new cut, pressing it against the wound and then bringing it up to his mouth to lick your blood off. 

“Zsasz,” you whispered. 

“Victor.” his voice rumbled as he let go of your wrist. “Call me Victor.”

Then his hands were on you, one squeezing your tit while the other grabbed your ass. You gasped in surprise, but his mouth silenced you almost immediately. The kiss was rough, his lips nicked with a few scars, but he was good and you immediately melted against him. He was devouring you, as if he been starved of any attention for years, and maybe he had been. He was hungry for you, insistent, determined, practically begging for more as a low moan rose in his throat. 

Your knees were weak, and you had to break the kiss to catch your breath before you collapsed. You wanted more, though, needed to feel more of him, your hands ripping open his nice designer button down. He wasn’t even mad that you had just sent half the buttons flying around the bathroom, because your fingers were already trailing over the scars that covered his chest, then dipping down to run across his hips. 

His skin was smooth, wherever it was free of tally marks, and incredibly hot to the touch. While you explored, your lips latched onto his neck, kissing and biting and sucking in a way that he hadn’t anticipated. Zsasz was used to being the demanding one, but he wasn’t about to complain that you were so determined to leave some marks of your own. 

Your hands ghosted up over his pecs and then down his abs, and you hummed in appreciation as you felt the neatly groomed hair on his chest. When your hands dipped lower and lower and finally found his belt, he suddenly growled and grabbed your wrists, and your head snapped up to look at him. 

“Shower. Now.” he ordered, eyes dark. 

You obeyed, slipping away from him and stepping into the shower. You could hear him undressing, and as you sighed happily at the feeling of the warm water on your skin, he came to join you.

The shower was more than big enough for the two of you, but he didn’t want to give you any space. He backed you up against the wall, his lips immediately crashing down on yours as he pushed himself up against you. You could feel his hard on pressing into your thigh and whimpered in anticipation, a shiver going straight down to your pussy.

Fuck.

You wanted him so fucking much.

“V-Victor,” you whispered as he leaned back from the kiss. You couldn’t help rubbing your thighs together, trying to alleviate the ache that was quickly building up.

“I wanna hear you purr for me, kitten.” He rasped, his big, warm hand drifting down to your cunt. He found your clit immediately, teasing it, reveling in every gasp and cry you let out for him.

He wanted nothing more than to get down on his knees and worship you with his mouth, but he could be patient.

“You know, when I saw you there, on the stage...” he said as he drew lazy circles around your clit, “...I couldn’t look away...”

“R-really?” You gasped, arching your back as you sucked in a breath.

“Mhm.” He pressed a finger into you. “So fuckin’ beautiful, the way you carved him up...”

You squealed at his touch, the sound like music to his ears. He liked it even more than the sound of his victims screaming...though he was confident you’d be doing plenty of that, too.

“Never knew such a pretty little birdie like you could do somethin’ like that...” he said, slowly pulling his finger out and then pushing it back in again. “All that blood...”

“I-I’ve killed plenty of times,” you gasped, nails digging into his arms as you clung to him. 

“I could tell...you made it look like art...” he suddenly added a second finger, shoving them both in until the rest of his knuckles were pressing against your labia and he had nowhere else to go. 

You let out a loud whine, wanting more, needing more. Before you could demand anything of him, though, he was kneeling in front of you, practically reading your mind as he leaned in to replace his fingers with his mouth. 

You hadn’t expected him to be so skilled, but then again, you hadn’t really expected any of this to be happening tonight. 

He was eating you out as if you were his last meal, as if he hadn’t had food in weeks, as if he was starving. Zsasz was desperate, lapping up all the wetness from your pussy as if it was the only thing keeping him alive, his moans vibrating against your skin. His hair was too short to tangle your fingers in, but you still tried, nails scratching his scalp in a tantalizing way while he gripped your thighs hard enough to leave little red marks behind. 

“F-fuck,” you moaned, leaning your head back against the wall and tensing as he sucked on your clit. Little jolts were running through you, sparks that almost felt electric. Your limbs were tingling as your orgasm built, and as it finally spilled over, you found yourself whining and gasping and chanting his name over and over, holding onto him tightly as he licked at you greedily. 

Zsasz loved it. He wanted you to need him, and he loved the sounds he could pull from you. He could keep going all night, burying his face between your thighs and worshipping you, but now, he wanted more. 

“Turn around.” he said as he stood, licking his lips. 

You nodded, still in a daze as you turned and braced yourself against the wall. He grabbed your hip in one hand and his cock in the other, rubbing the head against your swollen, wet pussy. Next time, he would have you suck him off. Maybe he would ask you to wake him up with a blowjob in the morning.  But now, tonight, he was hungry to feel you around him, and as he slowly slid into you, he savored every moment of it. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, tossing his head back as he buried himself in your heat. “You’re fuckin perfect, kitten...”

You moaned back, the feeling of his thick cock stretching your pussy around it causing you to momentarily forget your words. As he drew out and then snapped his hips forward, you grunted, biting down on your lip as you closed your eyes. He felt incredible, rubbing past all the right spots inside of you as he found a rhythm he liked and began fucking you mercilessly. His hands were grabbing you wherever they could, be it your hips or tits or hair, and as he fell further and further into his desire for you, you could feel his chest brushing over your back as he leaned down. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he growled, nipping at your ear. “Who do you belong to?”

“Y-you,” you choked out, trying to turn and look at him. “I-I belong to you, Victor...”

“Good girl.” he snarled, squeezing the side of your ass cheek as hard as he could. 

The moan you let out was absolutely filthy, and as your pussy squeezed around him, you felt yourself beginning to come undone once more. He pounded into you and your moans and cries grew louder and louder, a symphony of pleasure as you climaxed, and Zsasz followed soon after, moaning your name in your ear as he filled you up. Your pussy milked him, squeezing every last drop out of his cock, and as he caught his breath, you could feel him pressing lazy kisses against the back of your neck. 

“Fuck,” he panted. 

You straightened up and he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you against his chest as he refused to let you go. It was quiet for a moment as you both came down from your highs, the sound of the shower the only thing breaking the silence. Finally, he allowed you to turn around, and as you faced him, you saw a surprisingly serene expression on his face. 

“Stay with me.” he said. It was less of a request and more of a demand.

“What about Roman?” you asked, legs still quivering. 

“The boss’ll understand.”

And that was that.

Zsasz washed the blood off of your skin, insisting that you let him do all the work, and afterwards, he gave you a plush bathrobe to wear. You spent the night in Victor’s bed, and you did wake him up with a surprise blowjob, even without him asking you to. After a round of morning sex, you walked out into the penthouse in your bathrobe to see Roman Sionis already sitting at the table, and for a moment, you froze. You had almost forgotten where you were, and there was your boss, Gotham’s newest and nastiest godfather, spreading some cream cheese on a gourmet bagel.

“Ah,” he said, glancing up as he heard you. “You’re still here.”

“I...uh...” 

“Mornin’, boss.” Victor said, walking out behind you. He was fully dressed, looking and acting as if he hadn’t taken home a girl the night before. 

“The car is waiting for you.” Roman grunted, far more interested in his breakfast than he was in the conversation. “Be quick about it.”

Zsasz bowed his head and turned to you, holding his hand out expectantly. When you only stared at him, he almost rolled his eyes. “Your house keys, princess.”

“My...what?” you asked. “For what?”

“So I can get your things.”

“What things?”

“You’re moving in.” Roman said dismissively, as if it were obvious. 

“...What?”

“You’ve been promoted. Or did you forget?” he asked, giving you a look that suggested he was already tired of your questions. “You’ll be staying here, until you either die, or I fire you, or both. Now, be a dear and give Mr. Zsasz your keys, so that he can get your necessities. I’ll have some new clothes ordered for you this afternoon.”

You stared at him for a moment and then looked at Victor. “They’re in my bag down in the dressing room. But--”

Before you had a chance to finish and tell him that this really wasn’t necessary, he was already gone, calling the elevator so that he could obediently go down to the club and rummage through your purse. You had no doubt that he could get into your locker on his own, and as much as you really didn’t want or need him to go to the effort, you weren’t entirely mad about it. Living with Victor--and Roman--didn’t seem like that bad a deal, and if it meant that you’d get to have more fun with Zsasz, you were all in. 

“Well, glad that’s settled.” Roman said, sitting back and wiping the edge of his mouth with a fancy little cloth napkin. “Welcome to the Sionis penthouse, Princess.”

#victor zsasz x reader #victor zsasz #zsasz x reader #birds of prey zsasz #bop zsasz #birds of prey x reader #birds of prey #birds of prey imagine #dc imagines #dc x reader