#but it seemed kind of similar--a secret place that seems like it's in a different dimension?

[theback-rooms]

Ask your neighbors if they've seen this too! If the stairs make any kind of architectural sense, they'd presumably also connect to the closets of the people directly below you.

I don't really know any of my neighbors. I just moved here in 2021 and everybody was still pretty holed up from the pandemic. I moved here to be close to a friend, and then she got a new job and moved away. I like my apartment, so I haven't wanted to move, but I don't have a lot of people I know here, and most of them are just friends of my friend, so I'm not particularly close to them. That's why I had so much trouble deciding who to talk to about this staircase thing, because I'm not really close to anybody here. I even work remotely, so most of my co-workers are in a different state!

I eventually decided on talking to Katie about it. She's someone I met at a local swing dancing event a few months ago (Yes, I know: crochet? swing dancing? I'm a nerd.) We hit it off and we've hung out a few times since then. Anyway, I messaged her and we arranged to go out for breakfast tomorrow morning (she was busy tonight--a date, lucky bum!). I'll tell her about it then and see if she'll believe me.

Meanwhile, I took people's advice and talked to the maintenance guys. Specifically, I talked to one maintenance guy, Carter, who has apparently worked here for decades. I asked him a bit about the history of the building. He said it was built in the 60s and it was originally a hotel.

Here's the lobby:

(sorry about the smeary camera lens)

Interesting fact: it turns out that the 7th floor, where I live, was not original to the building! It was added on later. You can kind of tell when you look at the photo from the outside:

There's that ledge between the top (seventh) floor and the next floor down.

But there's still no possible way for those stairs to be there. When you look at them through the stairway door, they go straight out the wall before curving around. That means that there would be an externally visible stairwell sticking out from the wall, and you can see that there isn't one.

I tried asking Carter about it anyway. I'm sure my face was bright red, but I started telling him about "a friend of mine who found an old boarded-up stairway in her apartment building" and asked him if anybody had ever found something like that here. He laughed and said no, and added that he knew every nook and cranny of the building, including the elevator shafts, the attics, the roof, and the little cubbies in the hall that open up so they can access the bathroom plumbing in the rooms when something breaks. If there was anything resembling a secret stair, he'd know about it.

I guess he just doesn't know anything about a stair that according to the laws of physics, couldn't actually be there.

[sunderwight]

Been thinking about the potential of a Luo Binghe transmigration fic where he has a similar experience to Shen Yuan's -- meaning, he transmigrates into a story that didn't originally have a "Luo Binghe", but rather a different character with a similar name, and Bingmei himself still has his canonical personality and broad strokes modern version of his backstory (i.e. abandoned, adopted, orphaned, struggling with the foster system, etc), whereas the character he transmigrates into has a different background and personality.

So, concept: Luo Binghe transmigrates into Su Binghe, the spoiled prince of the demon realms, son of Tianlang Jun and Su Xiyan and scum villain of the novel he read.

In said novel, Su Binghe was driven by a perpetual lack of satisfaction with things. He had almost everything handed to him on a silver platter, but none of it seemed to actually matter to him. His parents were powerful and loving, but also extremely busy and somewhat distant. His sibling relationships were soured by the fact that they were all basically raised separately by different groups of servants and expected to compete with one another for the supreme throne of the demon realms one day. The servants who raised him also had only limited authority over him, thanks to his rank, so he was encouraged to be self-centered and tyrannical from an early age because behaving that way helped him get whatever he wanted. Yet he felt ultimately purposeless and lonely, lacking any actual friends or companions.

Shen Yuan, the main character, was the third son of a wealthy noble house and was stolen by demons during a raid on his family's properties. He was rescued by Tianlang Jun's people, who officially disapprove of attacks on humans (special cases like Huan Hua Palace being an exception), but not before the rest of his family was killed or else sold off into less friendly territories. Shen Yuan himself was subsequently taken on as a ward of the emperor, as a sort of apology for the whole deal, and inserted into the somewhat younger Su Binghe's household as a companion and tutor to try and curb the prince's loneliness. The empress also took Shen Yuan on as a personal disciple, as the only person able to teach him human-style cultivation.

This worked about as well as anyone expected, which was to say that the spoiled prince treated his weakling human tutor like his own personal chew toy, blowing hot and cold, manipulating and mistreating, jealously resenting Shen Yuan's attention from his mother while also taking every opportunity to insert himself into the additional lessons as well.

Eventually the situation came to a head, with Shen Yuan lashing back after being pushed to the limits, and Su Binghe using the "attack" as an excuse to exile him in the midst of hostile demon territory. Thus began the protagonist's power-up montage segment, where he was forced to fight and survive, leveling up his skills until he came across Xiu Ya.

Xiu Ya was a legendary sword that had been wielded by an equally legendary human cultivator, an actual secret ancestor of Shen Yuan's, long ago. It was sealed away by a past Heavenly Demon emperor, after its wielder managed to use it to successfully kill one of their kind (a difficult feat). By sealing the blade deep within the demonic realms, the past emperors had assured themselves that no human cultivator would successfully venture so deep into their territories nor uncover its hiding place, and so they mostly warded it against other demons (who might want to return it to the humans in order to sabotage the Heavenly Demons). Thus, Shen Yuan successfully liberated the blade, and after winning a harrowing battle against an ancient evil (boss fight!) with it, he ascended to godhood.

But, even the heavens weren't merciful in this story, and Shen Yuan was tasked with using Xiu Ya to end the threat of the Heavenly Demon race once and for all before he could claim his rightful place among them. If he failed, his soul would be forfeit and Xiu Ya would shatter, eternally condemning the mortal plane to the tyranny of demonic rule.

Luo Binghe absolutely loved the character of Shen Yuan, even though his story was kind of trash, and he did not want to transmigrate into Su Binghe, especially not with a mandate hanging over his head that he had to one day cast his favorite protagonist out into the wilds, and then let him kill Binghe in order to fulfill a mandate from the heavens!

Featuring:

-Modern day culinary student Bingmei, absolutely revolutionizing food prep in the demon realms and desperately wishing he could change the genre to one of those slice-of-life cozy escapist novels instead.

-Bingmei being actually a thousand times sneakier and more self-aware than his predecessor, taking Su Binghe's absolutely pathetic attempts at politics and making it work for him instead (between the foster care system and the food service industry, Bingmei takes no prisoners).

-Su Binghe originally had a sprawling harem by the time Shen Yuan reunited with him. Luo Binghe wants nothing to do with it, so he has to just keep on dodging his parents attempts to set him up in political matches.

-Some of Shen Yuan's original household and family actually did survive, so Luo Binghe dedicates himself to rescuing the rest of them to try and farm points with the protagonist. This results in him retrieving Shen Yuan's brother, Shen Jiu (asshole rat bastard feral cat of a guy, Luo Binghe almost wishes he'd failed), Shen Yuan's personal companions the Liu siblings (terrible decision, Shen Yuan's always waxing poetically about how beautiful they are), Shen Yuan's younger sister Yingying (annoying but nice), Shen Jiu's situationship Yue Qi (there is something deeply wrong with that guy), and the son of the family's head servant, Shang Qinghua (weird rodent man, somehow has evil advisor vibes despite also looking sort of like the designated non-threatening one in an idol group).

-Bingmei identifies Mobei Jun as a fellow transmigrator pretty early on, when he absently whistles the notification sound for a smart phone and Mobei reaches for his pocket. Mobei Jun's approach to transmigrating is basically to say and do as little as possible. Bingmei subsequently doesn't find out that he is in fact the author of the original book until some time after the main plot has passed.

-Despite not wanting to, Bingmei is fully prepared to die in order to secure Shen Yuan's eventual destiny as a god. He only hopes he might go out cleanly and with more sympathy than the original goods got. Imagine his horror when Shen Yuan decides he's going to fight the gods instead of wiping out the Heavenly Demons.

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It had been a long few minutes since he'd opened the door and there were a lot of questions running through Dick's head. Most pressing of which was how this kid seems to have information he should not have.

"How did you..?" he asked, but the words wouldn't leave completely. There's so much he wants to know, so much he wants to ask.

"How do I what?" Danny tilted his head like the child he seems to be is.

"How do you know?" Dick knows he sounds weak. There's no hiding that, but there are a lot of implications in what the kid has said so far and none of it is painting a very happy picture for him.

"Oh!" Danny had the audacity to smile, "You want to know how I know you moonlight as a vigilante!" And of course he knows. Dick knows he knows, but he'd held a little bit of hope that the child Danny was mistaken. Danny's smile softened a bit as he explained, "Your hair and voice match up in both jobs almost perfectly. Not to mention your build and how you hold yourself. There's also the matter of your overall vibes, but that's not something living beings can normally pick up on." Excuse him? "Well, not living humans, at least, so no worries on that end!"

"Excuse me?" Dick was fairly sure his heart just stopped beating for a moment there.

"Anyway, I was a hero back home for a while, too. I know what it's like to have to walk the tightrope between maintaining a civilian cover and a hero persona. I know how it feels to have to keep secrets from everyone because anyone who knows will be in danger." he rambled, Though, admittedly, our circumstances are quite different. I was working as a hero all hours of the day as well as going to school. You only have to worry about properly balancing between day and night jobs. Either way, me having more to bounce between just makes me al the more qualified to help you!"

Oh. Oh he did not like that. He didn't like a single thing that just came out of the kid's mouth. Because that's what he is, a kid. "Are you...Are you alright?"

"Not in the slightest," Danny admitted with an even smaller smile. Then, it brightened, not quite to a grin, but to something similar, "But I'm here to make sure you are."

He gets points for being honest, but Dick felt his heart shatter. He knew for a fact that he'd never worked with this kid before. He also knew that the Justice League didn't know about him. If they did, he would've been picked up and dropped with either the Young Justice team or the Titans.

Dick wasn't going to ask why he became a hero because that's not his place. It's more of a 'third mission with the team' kind of questions, anyway. Most of the heroes didn't have many options when they took up the mantle. Asking what Danny can do is a more appropriate question, but he wasn't going to ask that, either.

"Now that that's out of the way," Danny turned a few pages from the table of contents to another one that was topped with 'Why Sleep Scheduling Is Important' in the blue glitter pen that Dick was starting to suspect he favored. "You're not getting enough sleep. Following you around - no one's been able to find me for a while, so don't worry about that - for the last two weeks has given me some really worrisome information on you."

Dick was worrying. He was worrying a lot and even more questions were coming to the forefront of his mind.

"Your dayjob is as an officer on the Bludhaven Police Force, or BPD for short." He was looking over the page he'd turned to very aptly and Dick realized that the kid had notes written on him. "The average hours per week for police across the country is forty hours. Gotham and Bludhaven are the exceptions. As a member of the BPD, you work a solid two days and two hours. Six nights a week, you work as Nightwing from eight in the evening to three in the morning. The last day, you take off, which is good. No deserable pattern, so good on you for that. Regardless, that's seven hour nights and ten hour days, with one day off and one day on call as an officer. Seven hours are now left in your day for personal time, eating, and sleeping. That's not a healthy way to live."

Oh, god, the kid had honest to god notes on him! What the hell!

Danny didn't even skip a beat as he pulled Dick's attention back to him and his binder. "I've drawn up a schedule for you to follow." The back of the page had a meticulously drawn schedule, complete with blocks of time to eat, sleep, work both jobs, travel, personal time, and still have a bit extra left over. It was titled 'Ideal End Result' in green marker. "Drastic changes right away will only affect you negatively, so we're starting off smaller." The next page over had another schedule titled 'Where To Begin'. "I've only pulled one hour from your Nightwing hours because I know important that time is to you and the city. I am, however, going to be having you submit an appeal to your boss to cut back your hours from fifty a week to forty a week. That way, you'll only be working eight hours a day and not ten. You'll still be on call for one day, and you'll have that last day off. Altogether, you'll be going be going from working seventeen hours a day to fourteen hours a day. Nine in the morning to five in the afternoon, and eight in the evening to two in the morning. Not including breaks at work or travel time. It opens up a few more hours for you to sleep!"

"You really think the chief is going to pull back my hours?" Dick raised an eyebrow in question.

"He will if he knows what's good for him."

"You know I can arrest you for that threat, right?"

"Yeah, but you won't." And, damn it, he's right.

Although, there was now another thing he had to know. "How to you plan on enforcing this schedule of yours?"

Danny seemed to have been waiting for this. He got a gleam in his eye as he pulled a black folder from his bag, not breaking eye contact with Dick. He placed it on the table and pushed it across. "Congratulations, it's a boy."

Part 1 Part 3

[cimmanonrowl]

OMG I love dbf trope 🫣… could I req dbf!Hotch and reader where they’re secretly dating and the team accidentally catches them on a date together or something similar to that?

lowkey

There must be something with the coffee. Or the new water dispenser in the BAU breakroom. For a couple of weeks, Aaron Hotchner seemed to be in the best mood everyone in the Bureau has seen in a long time. And well, the mystery was solved when the team caught you both red-handed on a date.

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x rossi!reader

Theme: fluff mallows

Content: age gap, cheesy date, secret relationship.

Rumor has it that SSA Hotchner was dating someone.

Even you have heard the whispers in the hallway, the gossip they spread in the breakroom, and even the cautious murmurs in the elevator. For many weeks, the team had been a target of all faux inquiries in different conference rooms before every meeting started; all pertaining to when Aaron Hotchner found his happiness. And who the lucky woman was.

They know Aaron has a special someone. They just don’t know who it was– no, scratch that. They just don’t know it was you. 

“I’m not saying this because I don’t like seeing him happy...” Emily murmured to you and Morgan, who was already filling his third mug of searing coffee for the day. “But he’s acting too happy lately, it’s starting to freak me out.”

Emily leaned against the counter, quietly observing Hotch from a distance with her red lips pursed and suspicious eyes. As you turned around, you saw Aaron caught in an interesting conversation with Reid; a big, endearing smile lighting up his usually stoic and serious face.

Morgan shook his head as he looked over his shoulder, chuckling in obvious agreement. “He’s been joking around lately, too. It’s almost… unsettling.”

“Right? It’s literally been ages since I saw him like that- wait, do you know he went home early last night?” confusion was deeply etched on Emily’s face as she babbled, her eyes wide in faint excitement.

“Yeah. Nearly gave me a heart attack when he peeped into my office and told me he was heading home,” Morgan also leaned against the counter and took a sip of his drink.

“He went home earlier than Derek Morgan?”

“Shut up, Prentiss,” was all he could say.

You nodded along with their conversation in silence, not having anything interesting to say. Besides, your attention was fixed on your boyfriend from across the room; observing the way he listened intently and patiently to Reid’s genius ramble, the way he’d give him an encouraging nod to continue talking, his strong arms crossed over his chest, and with a kind smile plastered on his face. That look on his face sent hundreds of butterflies fluttering around your stomach. 

You love seeing him smile, which in return, also made you smile behind your mug.

“Maybe it’s the new water dispenser,” Emily suggested out of nowhere, half-joking. “Or the coffee. They changed it recently. What do you think?”

“I think it’s still shit...” you chimed in before you could even stop yourself, scrunching your nose at the bitterness of your drink.

Derek let out a surprised laugh, almost spitting the hot coffee in his mouth before quickly placing his mug on the counter, nodding frantically. “That, I fucking agree.”

Across the room, the sound of your hearty laughter caught Aaron’s attention. He quickly glanced at where you were standing, his expression softening a tad more at the sight of you talking animatedly with the other team members. It took all of his self-restraint not to grin at the familiar sound, although his heart fluttered at the very moment he heard it. 

He shook his head as he tore his eyes away from you, biting his lip to stop the smile slowly tugging on his lips, only to meet Reid’s inquisitive gaze the moment he focused back on him.

And all Aaron could mutter in his head was: Oh, fuck.

“Or maybe someone special has put that smile on his face. You know there’s a lot of rumor he’s seeing someone,” Morgan wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

“Yeah, the barista across the street.”

“What? The ba- what?” Emily’s eyes widened as she turned to you. “Did you see them? When? What happened? What does she look like?”

“Do you mean the one with crooked bangs? I swear that girl’s barber used a butcher’s knife or something.”

You chuckled at the description Morgan used. “I don’t know. I’m just kidding, anyway. That’s the new gossip I heard from Anderson’s team.”

“Last week they’re saying it’s some model in New York.”

“New York?” you repeated, feigning interest in the information.

“Uhuh, even Strauss was curious. Did you know that’s what she asked me on the elevator instead of asking how’s the bullet hole on my leg?”

“You’re being dramatic, Derek.”

Morgan snorted. “If you get shot, that’s the first thing you’ll hear from me, Prentiss.”

You let out a soft sigh, clutching the report in your hands as you approach Hotch’s office. The door was wide open, just the way he would always leave it, and you could see him focused on a stack of paperwork on his desk even from afar.

When he didn’t notice your presence, you took that as an opportunity to observe him. Aaron’s attention was focused on the document laid on his hand, his thick eyebrows tugged together, his eyes sharp with precision. You know it’s been a while since he shaved, and now there’s a hint of dark stubble shading his chin, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise polished appearance. You vividly remember the feeling of his growing beard on your neck whenever Aaron kisses you there. Just the memory alone makes you giggle and blush to yourself.

You tapped lightly on the doorframe.

“Agent Hotchner?” you called out softly, “Here’s the report you’ve been asking.”

Aaron looked up almost instantly, his stern expression softening just a fraction when he realized it was you. “Thank you, Agent,” he replied with a smile, mirroring the one you have on yours.

Aaron stood gracefully and walked around his desk to take the report from you, his fingers brushing lightly against yours in a fleeting touch. Up close, you noticed the shadow of exhaustion looming over his head. The tired frown, the dark circle under his eyes- you almost reached out and touched his face. All you wanted at that moment was to kiss the weariness away.

“How’s your day been?” you intended that question to sound professional but eventually failed as it was laced with obvious worry.

“Busy, as usual,” he said, his lips curving into a smile that only you would recognize as genuine. “But I feel better now.”

You bit your lower lip before nodding shyly.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

He darted his attention to the report and skimmed through it, nodding appreciatively. “This is thorough, as always. Excellent work.”

“Thank you, sir,” you beamed, your heart beating a little faster at his praise. “I try to keep up.”

Aaron’s eyes meet yours again, his voice low and smooth as though he was passing top-secret information. “About tonight, baby,” he began, “I made reservations at that Italian place you like. Eight o’clock work for you?”

You nodded promptly, keeping your expression neutral for any potential onlookers. Not only the door was left open but also the glass window. This old man and his professionalism, really. And it still freaks you out to think that, just last week, Reid has taken an interest in learning the art of lip-reading. No one has the nerve to call him out yet but he’s slowly becoming a menace to society.

“That sounds perfect. I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”

There was a brief, almost imperceptible pause, and then Aaron nodded. “Good. I can’t wait, angel.”

That was your cue to leave so you quickly bid him goodbye, but not before giving him a sweet smile and a subtle wink. “Don’t stress up too much, Agent Hotchner.”

“You too, Agent,” he replied before you turned around, fully aware of how his eyes followed you as you walked out of his office.

When you returned to your desk, Emily glanced up from her paperwork, a tired smile plastered on her lips. “Everything alright with the report?” she asked innocently.

“Perfect,” you answered casually, keeping your tone light. “As always.”

Hours dragged on and the bullpen was slowly winding down for the evening. For the third time in five minutes, you glanced at the clock, your heart beating a little faster as the hands crept closer to eight. Tonight’s date with Aaron was all you could think about, and you couldn’t wait for the night to end when the both of you are already on his bed and resting.

Until suddenly, your father leaned against your desk, his trademark grin in place. “Ready to head out, kiddo? I was thinking we could grab dinner at that new Italian place you’ve been wanting to try.”

You gave him a small smile, not wanting to draw any suspicion for the sudden rejection. “Actually, I have plans tonight, Dad.”

“Plans, huh? With whom, if I may ask?”

Obviously, that piqued his interest. It’s been a year since you joined the Bureau and have been living independently since. You no longer live under his roof, but knowing your father, he still loves to act as if you do. He’d always offer you a ride to your apartment after grabbing dinner together.

You tried to keep your expression normal, but the excitement bubbling inside made it hard to hide your smile. “Just... a friend. We’ve been planning this for a while.”

Rossi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “A friend, mi cara? Anyone I know?”

“Well, sort of...” Hesitation lidded your expression for a moment. “But it’s still pretty new, so I’m not ready to share all the details yet.”

Rossi shook his head, chuckling at the sight of you blushing over some trivial question. “Alright, I won’t pry. But you know, you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded quickly. “I know, Dad. And I will tell you about him... soon.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Alright. Just be careful, okay? And have fun.”

“I will, Papà,” you promised after giving him a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Make sure to use protection.”

“Dad!” you glanced around the bullpen in scandal.

“Don’t be silly, just making sure he wraps his willie.”

From her desk, you heard Emily burst into boisterous laughter, obviously listening to the conversation. Your ears felt hot with embarrassment and you almost stumped your feet on the floor like a child.

“Oh my goodness, Dad!”

“What?” he feigned innocence. “Just a reminder, cara. But do enjoy your evening.”

You watched your Dad turn to leave before you breathed a sigh of relief, the tension finally easing from your shoulders. When you glanced around the office, that’s when you noticed Dr. Reid’s eyes focused on you, making you panic inside your head. What now?

After a while, he gave you an adorable tight-lipped smile before waving his hand. You gathered your things as everyone did, making sure to match everybody’s pace, eager not to appear suspicious from any angle.

Just as you were about to head out, you caught sight of Aaron emerging from his office, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder. He gave you a discreet nod, which you only returned with a smile.

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the table. The air was filled with the melody of an old Italian song, distant conversations, and clinking of cutlery. At times, you would hear a champagne or wine bottle being popped open. And the moment Aaron pulled back a chair so you could sit, it was as if time had finally slowed down.

Aaron’s eyes were locked on yours, his gaze so tender you almost melted in your seat. He leaned slightly forward, an adoring smile present on his lips.

“You know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “You get more beautiful with each passing day. You keep me on my toes, baby.”

You chuckled at his terribly sweet words, your eyes crinkling at the corners. “We need to leave some room for dessert, love.”

“Just saying, angel,” he reached across the table to gently touch your hand. “Did you even notice how many men looked back at you when you walked past them? I bet some of them are on a date, too.”

You giggled, squeezing his hand lightly. “Can’t say I have. I’m too busy thinking of being in your bed.”

“Ah, my bed,” Aaron’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Laters, sweetheart. It feels cold and empty without you in there.”

As soon as he said it, the waiter arrived with your meal, setting down a plate of creamy fettuccine Alfredo and a glass of rich, red wine. Aaron took a moment to admire the spread, then turned back to you. When he lifted his glass for a toast, you noticed a flicker of hesitation flash in his eyes.

“Fuck. I was planning to say something sweet but I forgot it now.”

You laughed at his confession. “Take your time, Papi. You can do it.”

“No, really. Fuck...” he chuckled heartily. “Stop looking at me like that, darling. You make my heart flutter.”

“Like what, Aaron?”

“Baby, stop. Have mercy on me.”

You tilted your head innocently. “Like what, Aaron?”

He heaved a deep sigh, finally tearing his eyes away. “Jesus Christ...”

Heat crept into your cheeks as you lifted your glass. Giggling at his flushed expression, you clinked your glasses together, the sound resonating amidst the noise.

“I love you,” you said warmly, your heart swelling with every word. “And I know all the ways to cover a crime scene so don’t ever hurt me, Aaron Hotchner.”

Just as he was about to say something, the familiar voice of your father suddenly interrupted. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

You turned to your side and saw the rest of the team standing beside your table, all with different looks on their faces. Emily looked absolutely in shock, her eyes wide and lips ajar. JJ was biting back a smile, shaking her head. While Penelope was squealing and shaking JJ’s shoulder.

Behind them, Reid was already bantering with Morgan and asking for the price money he had won on their bet.

“I told you he called her ‘Angel’ not ‘Agent.’ I know I’ve only been learning how to read lips for a week but my skills are highly reliable.”

“Yeah, whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“It’s true!”

Motherfuckers.

And to your dread, your dad was the first to break the silence. “So this is the willie—”

“Oh my god, Dad!”

Penelope clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with happy tears. “Oh my gosh, this is the cutest thing ever! Wait, what do you mean he’s the willie?”

No, because I tear up writing this while listening on-loop to lowkey. LOL. I'm so hopelessly in love with Aaron. Someone pls kill me.

[serpentandlily]

congratulations on 3k followers!

would love to request Azriel x Reader (Fem!Reader if that’s okay with you), some good ole’ angst ending in fluff please!

Az knows reader is his soulmate and doesn’t say anything, reader either finds out because someone in the IC told her or the bond snaps for her, and she thinks Az didn’t tell her because he’s ashamed of her but really he’s ashamed of himself and thought reader wouldn’t want him.

I know this has been done before but I love seeing different versions of it and know yours would be amazing!!

The Shadowsinger’s Secret

Summary: After years spent trying to befriend the shadowsinger to no avail, you are finally ready to give up after accidentally overhearing him speak poorly of you. But when a gossip session exposes a life-changing secret, you realize you can’t let go of Azriel just yet. 

Warnings: some miscommunication, fluff

A/n: Hope you enjoy this! Thanks for sending in a request and for your kind words!

────────────

Meeting Mor at Rita’s during the time Velaris was warded and locked down had completely changed your life. 

A close friendship had bloomed between the two of you. She introduced you to her two other friends, Cassian and Azriel, when she invited you to a dinner at the townhouse they all shared. After getting over the shock of meeting the fae so close to the High Lord, you were quick to make friends with them—or well, with Cassian at least. 

Although Azriel didn’t seem like much of a talker in the first place, you began to notice the extra ways he would go about avoiding you. Quickly leaving a room with lousy excuses when you entered, avoiding eye contact when he did address you—like when he’d ask you to pass the potatoes since that was really the only time he talked to you, or pretending not to notice you when you would see him out and about in the city. 

At first, you chalked it up to him being severely introverted and shy. Not to mention, all three of them were struggling with the fact that their brother and friend was stuck under the rule of Amarantha. It hurt your feelings, but you brushed it off, figuring he would open up to you over time. But that time never seemed to come even after Rhysand returned. 

The first few months after Rhysand finally came home, you were quick to form a friendship with him despite him being your High Lord. You two shared similar traumas. You both had terrible fathers growing up. He had lost his sister, you had lost your brother—the reason you’d moved away from home to live here. But perhaps the best and most silly reason you got along so well was the fact that the two of you loved to gossip. 

Even after making friends with both his brothers and Mor, Azriel did not warm up to you. He still avoided you. Still made sure to always sit at the other end of the table from you. Made sure to never be left in a room alone with you. And he would never be the one to offer to fly you up to the House of Wind, even when it would’ve been more convenient. 

You were beginning to think maybe he just didn’t like you. And then those feelings were confirmed with the appearance of the Archeron sisters. 

You had seen the way Azriel treated Elain, always offering to keep her company or escort her to places. He sat with her at dinners, listened to her talk about her hobbies, and even defended her when a bad word was said about her. Elain was easy to get along with, sure, but so were you. At least, you had thought you were. But Azriel was making you question everything you had ever thought of yourself. 

He even became friends with Nesta, who had been nothing short of a viper when she first arrived in Velaris. That was when you finally let go of the notion of ever being his friend, ever getting him to even so much as look your way. He didn’t like you. For whatever reason, a reason you were too scared to ask the others about, he didn’t like you. 

You had gone to such great lengths to be his friend. Gave him presents on Winter Solstice, brought his favorite treats from the bakery to leave in the kitchen for him every sunday, tried to converse with him during dinners, included him whenever you invited the group out for drinks. You had tried your hardest and it had been met with pure apathy. You eventually found out that he wouldn’t even eat any of the treats you brought, leaving them all for Cassian.  

That really drove the nail into the coffin. He didn’t even want to touch something because it had been from you. It hurt more than you’d like to admit.

You were currently making your way to Rhys’s office for a meeting about how your mentorship with Madja was going but more importantly, to share the hot gossip you’d heard when two voices caught your attention. 

You paused in your tracks when you heard your name mentioned, glancing at the closed door to Rhys’s personal library. 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel.”

“You don’t understand, Elain.” You heard Azriel respond. “I can’t.” 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

Your heart was wildly beating in your chest, both panic and nausea turning over your stomach. 

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s—”

You fled before you could hear the rest of Azriel’s response, tears burning in your eyes, chest tight. 

So none of it had been in your head. Azriel truly disliked you. You didn’t know what you did to offend him or make him hate you.

You swallowed, thickly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks, trying to compose yourself before you entered Rhys’s office. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset.

But you could do nothing about the nausea in your stomach, or the hoarse feeling in your throat that made it hard to swallow. Maybe you’d just drop off the report and scurry home before anyone noticed something was wrong. 

You pushed open the door to his office, keeping your eyes on the floor as you entered and shut it behind you. 

“Ah, Y/n, just the person I was waiting for! You will not believe what I heard Nesta telling—” You looked up when Rhys paused to see him staring at you with concern. “Y/n, what’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?” 

“N-nothing,” you choked out, striding forward and setting your report on his desk. “I’m just a bit tired today. Think I’m going to head home and take a nap.” 

Rhysand stared down at the folder on his desk with a frown before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Bullshit.” 

“Excuse me?!”

“I’m calling bullshit, Y/n,” Rhys said, looking at you with a stern expression that was normally reserved for when Nyx acted up. “You stay out all night long with Mor all the time and you’ve never skipped out on our talks! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do we have to beat up?” 

You shook your head with a small laugh that sounded as hollow as you felt. “Seriously, Rhys, I’m fine. Nothing happened. I really am just tired.” 

He studied you before nodding at the chair in front of his desk with his chin. “Sit.” 

You bristled at him using his High Lord’s voice to get you to obey, reluctantly taking a seat in the armchair. He didn’t seem bothered by the glare you were sending his way. 

“This is hardly necessary,” you argued.

“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me why you walked into my office looking like a little, downtrodden puppy.” 

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed at his comparison. “Like I said, nothing is wrong!” 

Rhys only quirked an eyebrow at you and you let out a noise of frustration. “Fine! Look, I just overheard some people talking about me and not all of it was…

pleasant, okay? That’s all.” 

“Who?” Rhys barked out. “What were they even saying? You’re the most harmless person I know.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark. 

“No one important and besides, people are allowed to have negative feelings about me,” you sniffed. “Even if it hurts to hear.” 

“If it was no one important then you wouldn’t be upset. And no one is allowed to have negative opinions about any of my friends except for me,” Rhys leaned back in his chair and kicked up his feet on his desk before giving you a very feline smile. 

You snorted. “Yeah, well, what if it was one of your friends I overheard?”

You regretted those words as soon as they came out of your mouth. 

Rhys perked up. “If it was Cassian, don’t pay him any mind. He’s just mad you beat him at poker last week.” 

“It wasn’t Cassian. It was Azriel,” you sighed. 

Rhys was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your mouth dropped open at his audacity. 

“It’s not funny! I’ve spent years trying to be his friend! I don’t know why he hates me so much.” 

“It’s funny because I know Azriel would never talk shit about you. He doesn’t even talk shit about the people he does hate and he most certainly does not hate you,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what you overheard but it must be a misunderstanding.”

“It wasn’t!” 

“Alright, show me.”

You felt dark claws tap on your mental shield and you let him in after some slight hesitation, letting him view your most recent memory. 

“Hm,” Rhys mused when he was done. “I’m not convinced. You should’ve stuck around to hear what he said.” 

Hearing Azriel’s words in your head again caused a new round of tears. You tried to hold them back, sniffling but it was no use. Rhys sat up straight when he realized just how upset you were. 

“Y/n, please don’t cry. I promise you Azriel does not hate you. I know how awful that sounded but I really think—”

“He does! He’s never liked me! I’ve tried so hard to be his friend, Rhys, and he always ignores me or pretends I’m not there. Every time I try to talk to him he gives me one word answers and runs away with any excuse like he can’t even stand to be around me! I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much or think I’m an awful person.” 

You wiped away the tears on your cheeks, bitterly. 

“Azriel’s just…shy,” Rhys said, weakly. “Give him some time to warm up to you.”

“I’ve known him for over fifty years now, Rhys! Hell, he’s already friends with Elain and Nesta and they’ve barely been living here for two years. I think if he wanted to be my friend, it would’ve happened already. He just doesn’t like me!” 

The door to Rhys’s office opened right after you finished talking and you stiffened as Cassian strode in. 

“Oh, hey, Y/n, I didn’t know you were in here,” Cassian greeted as he shut the door behind him. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed your tears and Rhys’s grimace. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” 

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands with embarrassment. 

“Y/n is under the impression that Azriel hates her.” 

“No, I know he hates me,” you said, voice muffled. 

Cassian’s booming laughter filled the office, making you sink further down in the chair. What the hell was so funny about this? 

“You think Azriel hates you?” Cassian asked in between his laugh. “Y/n, that is ridiculous! He could never hate you. You’re his mate—”

“Cassian!” Rhys rose, slamming his hands down on his desk. 

Your head sprung up. 

“What…what did you just say?” 

Rhys let out a sigh, pinging the bridge of his nose. “Gods damn it, Cassian. Y/n…you weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m so sorry—”

“Azriel is my mate and he knows? He told you guys but not me? Why…”

Why? Of course you knew why! He never told you because he didn’t want you as his mate. All the air in the room was sucked out, your face turned hot, your ears started ringing. Your mate didn’t want you. Your Mother-blessed mate didn’t want you. You shot up out of your seat, rushing to the door. 

“Y/n, wait!” 

But you didn’t stop.

────────────

“It’s better this way,” Azriel sighed. “She deserves better than me. She deserves someone as good as her as a mate. She could never want someone like me—I’m not good enough for her.” 

“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel,” Elain replied. 

“You don’t understand, Elain. I can’t.” 

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t talk to you because the mating bond might snap in place and then you’d be chained to him forever and that was just not fair to you. You deserved so much more. 

“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”

“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s a saint. She’s not just pretty, she is the most beautiful girl in the world and she’s so much more than just kind. She’s good unlike me. I’ve…I’ve done so many bad things. I’m tainted and if I allow myself to be with her, I’ll ruin her.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, Azriel,” Elain sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t Y/n be the one to decide for herself if you’re good enough for her? Me and Lucien didn’t get off to a great start but at least he was honest with me.” 

Azriel’s wings drooped to the floor. “You’re…right. It’s not fair to her that I’ve been keeping this a secret all these years. But I don’t want her to feel forced to be with me.”

“She is smart, Azriel, and can handle herself. If she doesn’t want you, I’m sure she’ll be honest about that. But you won’t know until you try. And as much as I love listening to you talk about her—I think I can speak for all of us when I say that you should stop saying this stuff to us and start saying it to her! She probably thinks you hate her with how much you avoid her!” 

Azriel’s chest ached at that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you which is why he stayed away. 

“But—”

“No more buts, Azriel,” Elain said, sternly. “Tell her before she finds out some other way like Feyre did. You know how much that upset her. Rhys is lucky my sister is so forgiving.” 

Azriel swallowed thickly, but rose to his feet. It was about time he faced this, about time he stopped trying to hold his mate at arms length. Even if he felt like he didn’t deserve you, you deserved to know the truth. 

“Okay. You’re right. You’ve all been right and I’ve been a coward. She deserves the truth.”

Elain smiled, nodding her head. “Good luck, Azriel. Just remember if she seems reluctant at first, don’t take it to heart. It took all of us some time before we warmed up to our mates.” 

He gave her a dip of his head before leaving the library to start his search for his mate. What he didn’t expect was you to come barreling down the hallway with tears pouring from your eyes. His stomach turned over at the sight and he quickly stopped you in her path, grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong—”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him.

“D-don’t,” you cried out, shrugging out of his grip. “Please, don’t touch me.”

And then you were off again, disappearing around the corner. He stood frozen in place, debating if he should run after you. But you clearly didn’t want to talk to him. And it was all his fault—the distance he had put between the two of you. 

He made his way to Rhys’s office, pushing aside the urge to run after his mate and find out why you were so upset and who he needed to hurt for causing your tears. 

When he entered, he immediately knew something was wrong. Cassian was staring at him with pure guilt in his eyes while Rhys stood behind his desk, frowning. 

“Azriel, I’m so sorry,” Cassian choked out. 

“Sorry about what?” 

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to ground to swallow him whole. “I might’ve told Y/n that you're her mate.” 

“You what,” Azriel growled. 

Cassian glanced at Rhys who decided to jump in before a war broke out in his office. “Honestly, Azriel, it’s your fault for keeping it from her. She was in here crying because she thinks you hate her. I was trying to convince her you don’t when Cassian walked in and let it slip.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Azriel spat out. “You hid your mating bond from Feyre too.”

“Not for over fifty years! I would’ve told her if she hadn’t found out. I withheld that information for a few months and look how that turned out. How do you think Y/n will feel knowing you hid it from her for over fifty years!” 

Azriel’s wings slumped, his shadows whirling around him in distress. Just the idea of you being hurt by him was enough to make him want to bash his head into the wall. “She deserves better.”

“You’re right. She deserves you,” Cassian said, gently, nudging him with his shoulder. “Maybe this was the push you needed, Az, to finally talk to her.” 

Azriel sighed, bowing his head in shame. “I know, I know. And I will—I will go talk to her.” 

“I recommend starting with an apology,” Rhys joked but Azriel was hardly paying attention, already sending out his shadows to find his upset mate.

────────────

You were sitting on a hill that overlooked Velaris, running your fingers through the grass. This day had gone from bad to absolutely dreadful in the matter of a few minutes and now you were left reeling with the information that Azriel was your mate. A mate that had kept the bond secret from you. A mate that obviously didn’t want you.

He had said so to Elain. He didn’t think you were pretty or kind or great. It all made sense now, how much he had avoided you in the past. He didn’t want you to figure it out, didn’t want the bond to snap for you. You let out a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.

A light breeze of wind ruffled your hair forward as someone appeared behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, already recognizing that familiar smell of cedar and night-chilled mist. Cassian must’ve let him know that the cat was out of the bag and now Azriel was likely here to beg you to reject him.

“You know, I’ve lived in Velaris nearly my whole life but I’ve never been up here before today.” Azriel’s deep voice broke the silence. “That’s a beautiful view of the city.”

“I know,” you answered, quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “It’s why I come up here.”

“Do you come here often?” His voice was closer this time and his shadows began to whisk through your hair and under your arms, much like they always did when in your presence.

“Only when I’m upset,” you sighed, blinking away more tears.

There was a moment of silence before Azriel spoke again. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I did not intend for you to find out about the bond that way.”

“It’s alright,” you said, weakly. “It must’ve been hard finding out your mate is someone you don’t want. I know you’re here to ask me to reject it. I will do as you ask so you can continue on with your life.”

“No,” Azriel spit out quickly, stumbling closer to you. “No, I’m not here to ask you to reject it. I’m here to explain myself…I hate that this has made you so upset.”

He sat down next to you, mimicking your position. You kept your gaze forward, scared to see what you might find if you looked at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Azriel. I get it. I, um, I overheard you talking about me to Elain.”

“Rhys showed me what you overheard,” Azriel said, his wings flexing before the one closest to you curled around your form to block the wind. “I wish you had stayed just a second longer, Y/n, because I truly was not saying anything bad about you. I would never—”

“If that’s true then what were you doing? What did you mean when you said I wasn’t pretty or kind or great? What could that possibly mean other than what it seems to?”

“I said that because it’s true. You’re not pretty or kind or great, Y/n. You are beautiful, the most beautiful girl to ever step foot in this world. And you’re not just kind, you’re so much more than that. You are good. You have the heart of a true angel. You are so much more than those three words can describe. I never kept the bond from you because I didn’t want you. I kept it a secret because you deserve someone better,” Azriel confessed.

“And you don’t think you can be that someone for me, Azriel? You’re my Mother-given mate! You want to know something? I’ve always dreamt about finding my mate one day. Hoped that I would get to experience a love like that in my lifetime. And to find out—”

Your voice cracked, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry,” Azriel pleaded, taking your chin in his grasp, and turning your head to face him. He cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “I longed for the day I would find my mate. But when I finally found you after all these years, I…I didn’t know how to wrap my head around the fact that the Mother blessed me with you. You are so much more than I ever dreamed of. You are all that is good in this world. You bring happiness to every room you walk in. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. The last thing I wanted was to drag you down by shackling you to me.”

“What if it is you that I want? What if I want you to be that person? Did you ever consider that might be a possibility? Because let me tell you something, Azriel. You say I’m more than you ever dreamed of, but you are exactly who I’ve been dreaming of all these years. Someone calm, someone patient, someone good of heart. Someone I can feel safe around. Someone I can call home. What would you say to that?”

“Then I might say you’re an idiot for wanting me,” Azriel chuckled, still stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, staring down at you with those beautiful hazel eyes. “But then I’d probably get down on my knees and beg you for a second chance. To let me prove to you that you have my heart and soul. You have since the day I laid eyes on you.”

You stared up at him, eyes wide with your vulnerability. “And if I agreed to give you a second chance, what would you say?”

“I would say be ready by seven tonight so I can take you out and show you what a girl like you deserves,” Azriel breathed out. “What would you say to that?”

You laughed, the ache in your chest finally soothed. “I would say yes.”

Azriel smiled, a rare and breathtaking sight, before he stood and reached out a hand to help you off the ground. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

You smiled back at him before finally taking his hand.

[koiir]

SWEETEST LOVER

Blue lock boys who are the BEST lovers ( I’m bias) Relationships with them { not proofread }

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ Chigiri, hiori, reo, isagi, kurona

CHIGIRI H.

Chigiri is the definition of “best friend and partner” he’s rather open to you (having known for years) and also being the person who’s the best boyfriend you can could ask for.

The advice he gives is one of harsh criticism yet the most truthful, many would be surprised by how blunt he can be with you although it shows in how he cares and truly only wants the best for you. If opening your eyes with a hard truth will help then he will take that route.

Although of course, he isn’t heartless. He comforts you with a warm smile, heart beating at how attentive he becomes with you. Giving you the princess treatment one would die for. He knows comfort can differ in various ways, so he will always try and communicate on what you need.

I feel as though chigiri struggles with communication concerning his wants, so he tries to grow in order to be the best version of himself he can give you. Yet there will be moments where this can “problem” can arise and he will always realize his faults.

Other than that, his knack for his wellbeing swells into you as well. Hair is rather important for the guy, so when he comes to you with a grin about a new hair secret, expect a days worth of hair care. The two of you are seen as rather “gossipers” yet you two just find anything and everything interesting. Really, anything with chigiri can turn into an interesting conversation. Thus making him an amazing boyfriend and best friend in one<33 ( I could go on about him but I’ll save that for later)

HIORI Y.

SO UNDERRATED I LUV HIORI. Ugh he’s the sweetest I mean cmonnn…

With his already calm and polite demeanor, falling in love with him is that of a warm spring that flourishes into a bond greater than words can say.

A quick learner, can easily pick up your moods and will give it his all for you! Very much a giver and will cherish whatever you give him, hiori becomes emotional seeing how much you give to him, already viewing your love the best thing he could every ask for.

From his childhood, he was told he was loved, although feeling it would come and go. Yet when you come into the picture, it’s as if he experiences the feeling of being loved for the first time ever. His past one of hallow that now with you, it beams with hope and joy, making him the more doting on you with showing how much he truly cherishes what you have given to him.

The type of guy who would let you drag him anywhere, as his face is filled with adoration for you, soft smile evident as he lets your body take the lead as he follows you to no end. Out and about, would definitely rub your wrist gently before crossing the street whispering a faint “be careful” that causes your heart to race in seconds.

Can’t forgot how he would definitely, want you to game with him. Even if you don’t he finds a way for you to be near or engage with him. Whether that be you seated next to him or him lying across you, the peace hiori has in being close to you is infinite. A safe space he never wishes to let go of.

Seems squishy (don’t ask)

ISAGI Y.

GREEN FLAG I REPEAT ULTIMATE GREEN FLAG. Might be bias but cmon it’s isagi

The boyfriend who literally will do ANYTHING you wish for (as long as it’s reasonable ofc) Follows you around like a lovesick puppy as he comments on places he thinks you would like or you two should go to. Will love to get stuff where it compliments the other, almost as if something that matches.

He once asked you what you were going to wear and showed up with a similar color combo, mind you he bought you two the same shoes for days where you want to match.

The kind of guy who will hold eye contact whenever you talk, even if you can’t hold it with him because of how intense his gaze is. He will continue looking at you as id you’re all he can stare at. How can someone make you flustered without anything at all?? That’s isagi for you

Isagi is someone you admire, someone you learn from even as you two grow in the relationship. His kind heart giving you the courage to try new things as he supports you all the way, words of encouragement making a hue of light shine in your life.

Overall, a loving caring guy who always has your back and a cutie

BACHIRA M.

Bachira just like anyone has his…quirks. Although nothing severe to the point of destruction or hurting you. If anything he’s the most loyal and treats you with such care, fearing that one day you might perish or realize he’s not so called normal.

His insecurities one that you know from the beginning, tending the wounds he has held from years of the past. His reluctance to thank you with the best he can give you, his affection and loyalty to you one of scarce of losing you. He can’t fathom this, you with him. Together. So it’s only natural he wishes to show you what others cannot see.

There’s never a dull moment with him, his vibrant persona melting into you as you intoxicate in the newfound confidence he gives you. Bachira is the type to move you out of your comfort zone, making a break to see you in a new light that he’s lucky enough to see and be the cause for.

His affection spreads throughout every aspect, in public he resembles a dog that clings onto its owner that holds eyes filled with adoration.

His warm hands allowing for yours to bask in his warmth, feeling more as he squeezes yours and grins from ear to ear viewing your flushed expression. “There’s that face I adore oh so much!”

Eyes wander to your figure as bachira sees the shiver in your figure, cold winds swirling around causing you to feel the cold sensation of the winds. His embrace eternal, fitting like a puzzle as he snuggles up behind you swaying your bodies side to side. The norm would be teasing words, yet for now he embraces the delight with you in his arms.

Ah bachira

KURONA R.

Cutest boy I mean cmon he has shark teeth

No matter the time being, kurona can’t fathom that you’re truly his, his mornings being filled with a lovesick smile at the thought of you.

His teeth hold many stories, the most memorable being how insecure he is because of them, smile showing less due to this fact. But the day you tell him to smile, hands on his cheeks as you gaze into his eyes, the crack in his lips breaking as he smiles at you softly.

It’s only natural for kurona to want to be the reasons for your smiles, indulging in what will make your smile come to fruition so he can also gift you with his smile.

His adoration for sharks weaves into you, no matter what he makes a correlation between you. Expect matching trinkets of any shark related item. Plushies that greet you in a pair that hold eachother, his lips spilling the words of “look, it’s us”

What may come to a surprise is his ability to make you swoon with his words, maybe not directly, but on paper. The reassurance kurona needs is spilled onto messages late at night, showing his vulnerability on text because he cannot bear with how you might respond. He knows you would comfort him, although he knows his heart will experience speed to limits unknown.

So when morning dew comes and you wake up with his messages, your heart grows fond seeing just how much the boy wants you to know, his heart is all yours and he wishes to hold it for the eternity to come.

a/n; MONTHSS of not posting anything…prob cause I’m almost out of school and have inspo

edit; guys I’m sorry reo wasn’t added my ass was just tired after writing for bachira😞

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 3

Michael Myers + Drugged and/or captured.

This is a spiritual sequel to the bondage/shibari Michael Myers prompt from last year’s Kinktober. This is a shorter one, cuz ya boy is busy with his studies 🤓

Pretty sure this counts as dub-con, so like, watch out for that ig.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

A year had passed since your last run in with Michael Myers, one year since you had panicked and tied him up and left him on the floor of your living room. And one year since he escaped the very moment you looked away. You had been on edge all year because of it, as Michael had never been found or caught, his killing spree even seemed to come to an end for the time being after he had left your home. This didn’t stop the entire population of Haddonfield from worrying as the next Halloween night approached.

Most who could afford it left the town for the week leading up to Halloween and afterwards, but you, like many, could in no way afford a two-week holiday. Your run in with Michael wasn’t a secret though, so the day before Halloween your manager had sent you home early and told you to return a few days after the holiday. It felt like they were signing your death warrant, but it also made sense to keep the murder count down if Michael was gonna come for you again this year.

Ever since the past Halloween it had been impossible for you to sleep, to the point where you had been prescribed sleeping medication. You didn’t want to take it the days leading up to Halloween, terrified that you wouldn’t be able to wake up in case Michael showed up again, but as you sat on your couch already feeling like a corpse you were regretting that decision.

There hadn’t been a single report of murder this year though, so at some point in your sleep deprived delusions you’d convinced yourself all was safe, popped your meds, and fallen asleep in your bed still completely dressed. But maybe you should have listened to your paranoia more, as not long after you had gone to sleep a familiar slow-moving shadow snuck through your house, heavy footsteps approaching your bedroom where you laid splayed out like a starfish, a pool of drool already forming on your pillow.

Michael could only give a small head tilt as he saw your unconscious body, unsure of what to do. Part of him had hoped for a repeat of the last year, as the feeling of your ropes holding him in place had never left his mind, awakening a different kind of hunger than his usual hunger for blood. Even as Michael crawled up onto the bed, his bulk causing your bedframe to creak in complaint, you barely twitched.

Michael panted under his mask as his hands shook, feeling an unfamiliar churning in his abdomen as he dug through your drawers, pushing aside knickknacks and different toys you kept laying around, pulling out a colourful rope similar to the one you had used to tie him up with last year. His work was nowhere as skilled as your own, but it worked in securing your arms above your head, leaving them out of his way as his wild strength tore your clothes to ribbons.

You vision swam as you woke up, your body felt too heavy and sluggish like it always did when you woke up with your meds still in your system. Normally youd only wake if you really needed to go to the bathroom, something you were pretty sure you did in your sleep most days, but this time it was different. Something heavy was bearing down on you, and as you tried to move you found your arms strung up above your head. But most noticeably was the wet heat around your length, tight and insistent. Even in your sleep addled mind you could sense the strong thighs boxing in your hips as the persons rough hands groped at your torso.

The half coherent part of your mind was sure this was all a dream, even as your vision cleared for the most part, though it was still blurry around the edges. Because how else would any of this make sense. Why would Michael Myers of all people be riding you like his life depended on it, knocking the air right out of your chest as his bulky form weighed down on you. It wasn’t the weirdest wet dream you’d ever had, and you were pretty sure you had overheard somewhere that fear could lead to lust.

He wasn’t moaning, which saddened you somehow, even as he panted and gave small grunts when you would rub against his prostate. Had this all been real, you would have grabbed his hips to show him how to hit that spot every time, but it seemed in your dream your arms were tied, and the sluggish nature of your body made it hard to even roll your hips up into his.

It was only when his hands wrapped around your throat and you could feel yourself become lightheaded that it hit you that this might be real, as your hips started to ache from the speed of his riding and your vision started to swim from lack of oxygen and not just the meds in your system. The orgasm rolled through your entire body, starting from the top of your head, and running all the way down to your curling toes as you groaned sluggishly. You were sure drool was running down your chin at this point.

You would first realize the next morning that Michael came just as hard as you did, as he didn’t seem to have cared to clean you up afterwards. He had been polite enough to release your arms though. Your hips were killing you all day, who’d have thought having a guy Michael size ride you like a wild horse would mess up your back so much. It was only as you sat eating breakfast that it hit you that it had all really happened, and you needed to sit with your face in your hands for a bit, trying to fight off the heat it created in your abdomen, trying to ignore the small hope that hed return again tonight.

[sohnric]

distraction, a fatal attraction – l. chan

pairing: lee chan x fem! reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, college au, fluff. a weird kind of situationship between yn and dino, drunk dino because svt can't stop mentioning his excessive drinking which is so university student of him and i headcanon him as my drinking buddy.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of throwing up, smoking

word count: 7k

a/n: started writing this literally last may. it's now february and i finally finished it after rewriting it like three times... anyways idk how many more svt fics i'll post in the future but i had to get this out in the open lmaoo. as always thank u beloved @csenke for beta reading despite not even being a svt stan <3

You and Lee Chan seem to have the same clubbing tendencies. That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so. (Or - you and Lee Chan have kissed a concerning amout of times before he finally asks for permisson.)

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks you one March evening and you don’t know why exactly you find yourself so surprised. 

By default, it’s only natural for the boy to ask– the two of you aren’t dating, not even close to that, you’d say– and while you wouldn’t really mind if he kissed you without giving you a warning and swooped you off your feet on the stairs leading up to your dormitory building (for you found yourself a little too lightheaded and on the edge of your seat whenever he’s around lately, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only further proving your assumptions– you have a silly, little crush on the male), you must admit that him asking for permission is quite nice. Surprising, but nice. 

One might think you’re surprised because there was nothing that could lead you to this scenario– one might think you and Lee Chan were nothing but friends, not even close ones, per se (you just have a group of mutual friends that somehow always brought you two together when either one of you got excluded out of their conversations, ending up as each other’s, although pleasant, last resort). One might even think the two of you are hanging out alone for the first time together, which isn’t that far away from the truth in the first place, but still, is a blatant lie. What’s so surprising about the question to you, then?

The fact that this isn’t the first time you and Lee Chan would be kissing, and the sheer fact leaves you wondering if he’s forgotten, or if he never really remembered in the first place.

You and Chan have kissed…. an embarrassing amount of times for people that aren’t dating, or anywhere close to the said establishment. The circumstances of said kisses differ from time to time, and while you thought that they were meaningless at first, you must admit that as time went by, you selfishly and almost a little pathetically looked forward to each and every time where a similar situation might occur and his lips would end up on yours again.

The first time you and Chan kissed was also the first time you two met. It’s a strange sentence to use when describing a story about your first kiss with someone that you’re currently (hopefully) on a date with, but it’s the one you have to use, because it’s true.

The group you walked into the club with on the first day of orientation during your freshman year of college consisted of all your upperclassmen friends– the girls you had met in high school and didn’t fail to keep in contact with: Lee Chaeryeong, Kim Minjeong and Huh Yunjin. You would trust these three girls with your whole entire life, and so when they had told you that they could show you around the campus and let you in on all the secrets you only learn with months of attending college, you felt like you just won the lottery. 

After the cheerful senior Choi Soobin walked your humongous group through the campus and showed all of your classmates the fundamental parts of the college building (the gym, the labs and most importantly, the cafeteria), he invited you all to the open semester party in the club just a few minutes away from the campus. And yes, the party was originally supposed to be mainly for the freshmen, but as soon as you texted your friends to let them know about your whereabouts, they announced to you that there is no way you were going back to your dorm room so quickly– the whole campus was supposed to be on that party, and that’s exactly why you were forced to stay.

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Chaeryeong asks you as you start swinging your hips to the rhythm of the music, the DJ surprisingly not as bad as you expected him to be from the reviews you heard from the girls when standing in the queue leading towards the club.

“The music isn’t as bad as you said it will be,” you yell over the music into your friend’s ear, having her roll her eyes and shake her head at you in disbelief.

“I meant the campus, not the club, you silly goose,” she clarifies, making you gasp at the sentence.

“Oh!” you laugh. “Well, I’m less frightened, that’s for sure.”

“That’s gonna come back to you once the exam season starts,” Chaeryeong notes, snickering. The comment is slightly terrifying– therefore you choose to ignore it and stick it somewhere to the back of your brain to come back to when the time is right and your anxiety is no longer a far-away thing, but a very present and real issue.

“Ah! I see Mingyu there!” she suddenly screams, pointing somewhere behind you. “I’m gonna go talk to him, can you try finding our table and going back to Minjeong and Yunjin?”

“I’ll be fine,” you nodded, trying to believe the sentence just as much as you were trying to convince your friend of it. The place was filled with people, and although you didn’t feel particularly in danger, you were getting a little scared of getting walked over to death in the wave of the drunk upperclassmen enjoying themselves in the club.

Feet dragging you through the crowd painfully slowly, you try hard to find your table on the sides of the club. Your eyes never really had a 20/20 vision, but the neon lighting of the club and the glass of Martini you’d had before stepping to the dance floor with Chaeryeong really didn’t help you in seeing things clearly. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find your two other friends anywhere, and if you are being completely honest, you’re almost certain the table you previously sat at with your group was now occupied with someone completely else– meaning that your dear friends either left to the dancefloor, or left the club completely (which you doubted, but the possibilities were never really 0).

And so with that, you drag yourself towards the bar. You think that was a better option to choose in this situation– since you thought that going out for some fresh air is just going to get you kidnapped if you went there alone– and you also figured that you’d be easier to find by your lost friends if you were somewhere out in the open instead of in the corners of the humid room. Ordering yourself another Martini to pass the time, you drink the beverage in slow sips before you feel the presence of someone on the bar stool next to you.

You look up at the stranger beside you, noticing a boy around your age sending you a shy, yet charming look. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks.

“Not really,” you answer, watching as the boy nods, his shoulders relaxing as he orders himself a drink. 

“Are you here alone?” he asks as he looks back at you again, face tugging into a panicked expression when he realizes the implication his words may hold. “I’m not asking in a creepy way, or anything, it’s just- I’m a freshman and I lost the people I came here with, so I’m kind of alone here as well…” he quickly explains, eyes big and honest, “you just looked like you could use some company,” he explains, making an endeared smile flash over your features.

Shaking your head at his tangent, you wave him off with your hand. “Don’t worry, I got it,” you laugh, “and the same as you, actually. I came here with my friends, but they disappeared somewhere, so I just sat here and figured they’ll find me eventually.”

“Great minds think alike,” the boy laughs, holding up his glass before taking another sip, “well, until that happens, I guess we can hang out, can’t we? My name’s Chan.”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “it’s nice meeting you, Chan.”

The two of you talk about everything and anything: where he comes from, where you come from, which dorm building you’re staying at, which dorm building he’s staying at, your major  (literature) and his major (dance), your friends and his friends– and with the increasing amount of information you get out of him, the pull of gravity sends you more and more towards the boy. Chan is charming, talkative and fun. You find yourself attracted to him each time he cracks a joke or teases you about your choice of your favorite movie (‘This is the first time I’ve heard anyone say The gods must be crazy is their favorite movie!’), and that’s exactly why you don’t find it in you to say no when he asks if he could buy you a drink.

One drink turns into two– three, four, eventually even five– and you progressively start to forget all about your lost friends as you ask Chan to show you what being a dance major is all about and invite him to the dancefloor, swinging your hips back and forth to the rhythm.

You don’t know if they teach this type of choreography in dance school, but as the songs change from more upbeat to less energetic and more sensual, you find yourself a little too enchanted with the way Chan’s features soften under the neon pinks and purples, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and stepping closer to him. His arm ends up on your lower back– dangerously close to your bottom, which you aren’t that opposed to anyway– and when his nose brushes against the shell of your ear in the middle of one of the songs to talk to you, you can’t help but press yourself against him closer. 

“You’re kind of good at this, for a literature major,” he hums, his voice making shivers run down your spine.

And sure, it could’ve been just the alcohol levels in your blood that made you so dangerously close to him, but as you study his features– although a little hazily, but still fully taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkles in his eyes– you don’t have it in you to pull away when the boy leans in and kisses you, lips enchanting you the same way his moves have.

His kiss is heated and sensual, the one that makes your knees buckle and your mind go on overdrive, creating all sorts of fantasies in your delirious brain, and you must admit you don’t mind it when his hands slip further down to grope your butt, the two of you still lazily moving to the rhythm of the song in the background. The sound is coming in a little muffled to your ears as you let yourself fully indulge in the moment– it’s not every day you make out with an extremely attractive guy in the club– before your oxygen runs out and you have to pull away from him, instead studying Chan’s swollen lips from up close. They are inviting you for more, especially as his eyes open and look at you all blown-out and hazy, but you figure that he can wait. You have to catch your breath first and get yourself together– if you don't want to come completely undone in the middle of the crowded dance floor, that is.

You could honestly stare into his face forever, if you wanted to– except, you don’t have the chance as a loud voice from behind you calls: “Y/N! There you are!”

Annoyed thoughts fill your brain the very second you hear Minjeong from behind your back– where were they for the last hour? Of course they had to find you when the night was finally getting good– but you turn towards her nonetheless, showing her an innocent smile. You notice the girl is accompanied by the rest of your girl clover, alongside a tall guy that shows your companion a mischievous grin. “So I see you and Chan have already met and we don’t have to introduce you to each other anymore,” he says.

The sentence has you nervously clear your throat and take a step away from Chan. The boy ironically heaves out a: “Mingyu! How nice to see you again, after an hour.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t having fun.”

Feeling the atmosphere grow awkward, you quickly look at your friends, smiling tightly to try and save the situation (while also acting as if you didn’t just finish making out with their friend’s friend). “Where did you all go anyway?”

“Oh, we met Seungkwan and Vernon, so we decided to sit together, and then Chae came with Mingyu after some time, and that’s when we realized we were each missing a person… so here we are,” Minjeong clarifies, having you nod.

In conclusion, this is the story of how you met Lee Chan. What was supposed to be a one-night thing at a club for you, never really expecting to see the boy ever again (except from accidental meetings on the campus that could very well be played off as neither of you remembering), turned into a whole another situation as the two of you now shared a surprisingly tightly-knit friend group.

You never spoke about the kiss again. Or much at all, really.

Kind of disappointed with the fact, but still kind of okay with the situation, you found yourself falling into rhythm with the newly found world at university. You’d gotten used to the all-nighters, the weird partying in the middle of the week on a school night, to the hookup culture you’ve never really found yourself fitting in with, and with the life that comes to you when living in a dormitory. All of these somehow had the presence of Lee Chan included, though, as you learned on another Wednesday night (those are the designated bar runs when you’re friends with Chwe Vernon and Boo Seungkwan– since their Thursdays are free and they can get as drunk as they want without fearing being hungover in class), much to your surprise, you and the charismatic boy have the same clubbing tendencies.

That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so.

It doesn’t help that the both of you were light-weights– or at least that’s what you’ve been told. 

You two don’t talk to each other much before getting a few drinks in, since you’re a little shy when it comes to the charming, but endearing boy. What his reasoning for the seeming lack of interest in you when sober is, you’re not really sure– but as the night usually goes, you bet with Vernon on who can drink more tequila shots before their gag reflex hits, and sooner or later, you find yourself drunk at the bar. 

Once your otherwise stoic friend feels that it’s too much for him to handle and trails to the toilets (accompanied by a sulking Sungkwan complaining that ‘He always does this, ruining the night for everyone!’), you allow yourself to get back to the dance floor. Sounds like a good idea in theory, but is a bad idea in practice– somewhere along the way, you start to feel too dizzy in the heat of the crowd, the lightheadedness making you feel sick. Your figure is quickly dragged outside by a person you didn’t notice has been keeping their eyes on you, and only when you finally slip to the floor and sit on the pavement in front of the crowded bar, you recognise the guardian angel staring down at you with hazy eyes

“You looked like you were going to faint over there,” Chan hums, a perky expression playing with his face. There’s a boyish grin spread over his lips as he stares at your disheveled composure, the two of you coming into a weird sense of déja vu you’re convinced only a few shots of tequila can bring you into on a Wednesday night.

“Oh, I was going to,” you nod, watching as the boy settles next to you on the ground. The place around you is buzzing in true college fashion– people smoking, drinking off-the-counter alcohol straight from the bottle they got at the corner shop down the street because it’s cheaper than the shots in the club, people meeting and talking about their majors and where they’re from, making new connections.

“Thank god I was there to rescue you, then,” Chan chuckles, shoving you with his elbow.

“Yeah, my guardian angel,” you hum dreamily, giggling at the ridiculousness of your comment. 

“Saw Vernon running off with Seungkwan tailing him,” he nods, “now that’s not a guardian angel.”

“That’s a guardian devil for sure,” you hum, pursing your lips. “Wouldn’t want to have Seungkwan as my caretaker. He complains too much.”

“They argue like a married couple,” Chan snickers. 

“It’s the curse of being roommates. After a certain amount of time, you start to view each other like you’re married,” you hum, nodding to yourself.

“Do you consider Minjeong to be your wife?”

“No,” you sigh, shrugging, “she’s too immature to be my wife. I think of her more like my child, actually.”

“Well, looking at you right now, you don’t seem to be the more mature one out of the duo,” he pokes a finger to your side, making you jolt away at the contact. Furrowing your brows at him, clearly a little offended, you huff at him.

“The roles change when I drink. That’s how marriage works,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together, nodding, fully pleased with yourself.

Chan laughs at you. “I thought you said she was more like your child?”

“Then stop thinking, Chan.”

“You were the one who said it!” he points out, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re not sure to what extent you can blame this on the effect of alcohol– what can you say. Sometimes you get too tied up in your own lies.

“Oh,” you snicker, “right.”

“Dummy,” he teases, flicking the side of your thigh, making your blood boil with frustration.

“Who are you calling dummy?” you argue, having a perfect comeback to snap back at the boy. “Weren’t you the one coming to the wrong class for 2 weeks?”

Chan’s whole composure crumbles, a serious look tinted with hints of shame overtaking his previously grinning face. “Who told you that?”

“Not relevant,” you shrug. You find that it’s the best to keep the identity of the mole confidential. (It was Mingyu.)

“Was it Seungkwan?”

“No.”

“So it was.”

Sometimes you wonder just how clueless Lee Chan really is. Although you don’t think he’s slow, you must admit that he does have his moments that keep you wondering just how he can operate in the world without being used or manipulated on a daily basis. Is anyone keeping an eye on him? What if he accidentally joins a cult one day?

“Well, whoever told me wasn’t the one going to a completely different class for 2 weeks straight, so–”

“Look, it’s not my fault they make the schedule so difficult to read! The classes were overlapping on the thing, and I didn’t know which one applied to me, so I just assumed I could choose,” this has you laughing out loud at the boy, “and so I just chose one. I didn’t know those were electives. I didn’t even sign up for any electives! Can you believe that? We are supposed to have electives?” 

He looks so endearing as he speaks, laughing to himself and gesturing with his arms. There’s a sense of fondness pooling in your stomach as you reach over and plant a soft, quick peck to his lips. The male seems to be caught off-guard as he stops in his tracks, not a single word coming out of his lips after your action– and truth be told, although you’re kind of glad for the silence, the thought of scaring him away makes you a little anxious. When you look at him from the side, though, the boy is grinning.

Scattering to your feet, you wobbly waddle back into the humid building. You don’t think either of you could continue on with the conversation after your actions, and so you figure the best way to go around this is to leave. “Well, I’ll see you on the dance floor, Channie.”

The third time you manage to lock your lips with his is no different. It’s January now, though, and Seungkwan decided to host his birthday in one of the houses you can rent on the beach. It isn't as fun as it would've been in summer and you could go for a swim, but let’s be realistic– you'd never say no to a good birthday celebration. 

There’s havoc erupting all around you as your friend group sings the birthday song to Seungkwan. You all had something to drink prior to the cake ceremony, since some of you came sooner than the others and you figured that you have to wait for everyone with the cake, and so the singing now resembles a mating call of five dolphins more than the casual, harmonic birthday song. 

Seungkwan is sitting at the table, the rest of you gathered around him– some with glasses in their hands, some recording the commotion with their phones– and when the song is over and the birthday boy made his wish, he blows out the candles on the cake. Clapping resonates through the little kitchen, everyone ready for the cake, when Chan pushes the older one’s face straight into the icing.

It only takes Seungkwan half a second before he starts chasing the little devil around the beach house. The younger one is laughing at his own antics– which you must admit, although a little childish, you find to be quite endearing– and the older one curses at him with the most colorful vocabulary you’ve ever heard him say out loud. Not even Lee Chan’s own mother has ever scolded him in a way Boo Seungkwan is able to.

“Do you think Seungkwan would mind if I start cutting the cake without him?” Minjeong asks as she gets out a large knife– she looks a little threatening, you must say– which has you shrugging.

“I think he’s preoccupied right now,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve waited for this cake for over two hours,” she grunts, “so if he doesn’t want to cut it, I’ll do it for him,” she shrugs to herself and proceeds with her intentions.

Minjeong cuts straight through the face imprint of Boo Seungkwan in his own cake, slicing the red velvet into equal parts to put on the paper plates Vernon found somewhere in the back cupboards of the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“In a minute,” you laugh, shaking your head at your roommate, “I’ll go get them before they kill each other. I think the cake is enough to make truce fall over this war.”

“Stay safe out there,” Chaeryeong hums, nodding as she takes a paper plate and puts a chunky slice of the cake on, taking a fork into her hand and tasting the icing. “It’s surprisingly good even with Seungkwan’s skin cells in it.”

Minjeong slaps the other girl’s back, gritting her teeth. “Of course it’s good! I baked that shit for 2 hours and Y/N wouldn’t help, because she didn’t want to ruin it–”

(You just didn’t feel like baking. You don’t want to have another fight with your roommate about it, though, and that’s another excuse to leave the kitchen and go find Chan with his murderer.) 

Peering your eyes around the whole beach house, you fail to find Seungkwan anywhere. Assuming you two accidentally missed each other and he’s back reunited with his cake, your legs automatically lead you on the patio, where you find Chan resting against the railway. He is wearing a leather jacket, his hair now a little longer than when you first met him in September, and when the noise of the back door opening lands into his ears, he makes a turn and watches you cross the space between you, all while eyeing your naked legs. 

You contemplated if wearing a mini skirt in the middle of January was a good idea, but the satisfaction running through your veins at his hungry, yet collected eyes make it all worth it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. You shake your head in answer, but he pays it no attention as he takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, the smell of his cologne filling your nose like a blissful drug. You’ve always liked attention, but when it comes to Lee Chan, you are twice as satisfied when he pays you just a mere glance.

“Not anymore,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “Seungkwan gave up on murdering you?”

“I think it was more of a health concern for him. He was breathing so heavily after a few minutes of running that I thought he was going to suffocate,” Chan snickers, making you laugh.

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight anyway,” you peep, “just in case.”

“Oh, definitely,” he nods, grinning. “I won’t even take any drinks from him in case he poisons them. Better be safe than sorry.”

He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lights up one for himself and offers you one as well. Even though you always promise yourself you’re quitting and that smoking is a bad habit you should overcome, you eagerly nod and watch him with half-lidded eyes as he lights it for you, one hand close to your face shielding the lighter from the chilly breeze, just like every time. You haven't had that much to drink yet, but the effect of nicotine always makes your head spin when the smoke fills your lungs. Truth be said, though, you are afraid that the proximity of your friend doesn’t help much with the weakness of your knees either.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbles when the both of you are done smoking, hands gripping the sides of his open jacket on your body, tugging you towards him just the slightest amount. 

Like another bad habit the both of you have to break, he seems to pause for a second, as if questioning himself one more time before he goes for it and places a short peck to your lips, leading you to the beach house again, now flushed and internally squealing.

The fourth time, it happens on his own birthday party. 

It’s too late in the semester for any of you to experience a big party, the exam season being just around the corner. You still managed to gather and celebrate nonetheless– the boys letting you into their dorm building, your little friend group fitting inside of the communal kitchen on the end of the hall. People passing by look at you with half concerned, half annoyed faces at the commotion– which is understandable, nobody wants ruckus just down the hall when they’re supposed to be working on the last-minute assignments– but you don’t mind it much, telling yourself it’s not your problem in the first place and you’re allowed to have a bit of fun once in a while, as long as you’re not the one being wronged in the moment. 

A bottle of champagne is taken out of the fridge by the hands of the birthday boy, the commotion around you happily cheering and clapping (only Chaeryeong hides away from the pointed tip of the bottle, knowing all too well that Chan is not to be trusted with things that can explode), and while Mingyu encourages the boy to pop the champagne open out of the window, you all realize that the action is indeed, not possible.

“Don’t tell me you got the one with the lid that screws on!” Seungkwan turns around to scream into Vernon’s face, having the poor man shrug to himself.

“You can’t really tell in the store when the seal is on–”

“Then you should’ve double checked–” the nagging would go on further if it wasn’t for the last bits of common sense from the birthday boy himself (that Seungkwan would protect with everything in him, making sure their youngest has the best birthday ever, but would never admit to it outloud), as he just unscrews the lid and flicks it out of the opened window instead, earning himself a couple of cheers and claps from the rest of the group. 

The bottle gets passed around the circle, each of you chugging the sparkly alcohol straight from it– because pouring the drinks would take too much effort, and also, there weren't even enough glasses for everyone to pour the beverage into anyway.

The tallest one out of the gathering takes a cake out of the overstuffed fridge, lighting a singular candle in the middle and holding it up in front of the birthday boy’s face. There are sparkles in Chan’s eyes despite the poor condition of the cake– it’s one of those you get discounted in the dollar store, one of those that don’t even have candles on them and you have to get them yourself (which is exactly why Chan’s cake only has a singular, yellow candle in the middle)– and you find yourself admiring the sheer joy and appreciation in his orbs with fondness in your heart. 

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you–”

“Happy birthday, dear Channie!” Seungkwan’s vocal abilities shine through in the heartfelt song, the dramaticness of your whole group never denying itself as all of them make sure to sing to Chan with as much theatrical over-exaggeration as they can. Chan watches the flame with an inkling in his eye you can’t quite place. He looks adorable, you think.

You watch from behind as he blows out the candle. Something inside of you beams at the sight of your friend growing older– the fact that you’re here, celebrating with him moving something in you. You don’t often like it when people get older, but you think birthday celebrations make the sentiment worth it. In a moment of particular fondness, you hug the boy from the back– where you’ve been standing, considering the crammed nature of the kitchen– and whisper a giddy ‘Happy birthday!’ into his ear. 

The male turns his head to you, a grin settling on his lips as he scans your face from up close. He looks at you with a look that you can’t really read, but makes you all warm from the inside. It’s different to the way he usually looks at you, and you only decipher it when he quickly leans towards your face and presses a peck to your lips. Only then it starts to all make sense.

He does it in front of everybody, the rest of your friends whistling at the action. Your heart leaps a little as you wrestle Chan off with a laugh, trying hard to keep the unseriousness of it all. If you can keep lying to your friends about the way you feel towards the male, maybe you’ll even manage to convince yourself. 

The cake is taken away from his grasp and placed onto the table, ready to be served. You keep a calculated distance away from him, but that still doesn’t keep you from watching the boy from afar. There’s a certain haziness in his eyes when you stare at him from across the room and an aftertaste of vodka on your tongue when you lick it off your lips.

The fifth time, it happens when you gather to celebrate passing your exams. 

College kids have only one way of celebrating the joys of life (as well as only one way of dealing with sorrows), and that is– you guessed it– alcohol. The whole friend group gathered in the common kitchen of the boy’s dormitories again, soju bottles ringing against each other as you cheered and drowned in the taste of the liquor. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t watching Chan the whole time, the endearing twinkles in his eyes making you foolishly drink more and more, a weird desire in you just begging to be drowned out, since you couldn’t do anything about it.

Once the night was over and the bottles were all emptied, the boys decided to walk you back to your dorm building.

“Gyu, it’s literally a 10 minute walk across the campus. What could possibly happen on the way there?” Minjeong laughed, but the commotion followed you outside nonetheless.

“It’s dark outside!” Mingyu insisted. “You never know what could happen. I don’t want the responsibility of your dead bodies on my hands.”

“Chaeryeong is feral enough to fight off any creeps alone, you don’t have to worry about us,” Minjeong joked, but the boys followed you outside nonetheless, grabbing their coats and escaping the warmth of their dorms.

You find yourself trailing behind the group, the essence of soju lulling you to a peaceful slumber that you perform despite still being on the go, your brain coated with the incoherent buzz. Lee Chan finds his stance next to you, cautiously watching over your step as you shuffle across the sidewalk, a gentle voice coaxing you awake.

“Got any plans for the winter break?” he asks.

“Probably just going to stay home with my parents for a bit,” you muse, shrugging. “Have lots of naps… I need to recharge. This semester was too hectic.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” Chan admits, chuckling at your shared despair. 

Kicking the pebbles under your feet, you watch as the male indulges in a little game of football with you, passing the chosen rock back to you each time you kick it too far. The air is crisp and you sniffle a little from the cold every once in a while, but every time you catch the playful twinkle in Chan’s eyes when the pebble hits the side of your shoe again, you feel a bit of warmth engulfing you from the inside.

“I think this whole thing would be far less enjoyable if it wasn’t for you guys,” Chan admits, licking his lips. He’s right– it’s always better to have someone to rely on in university. You can’t imagine going to school and not having a familiar face to fall back to any time you feel lonely. It’s easier when you know all the insider tips from your older upperclassmen friends– when you have a default friend group you fit into without actually attempting to make any new friends yourself. Suddenly, you’re awfully thankful for everyone.

“Yeah. Although they did turn me into an alcoholic, it seems,” you chuckle, earning yourself an amused giggle coming from Chan.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck. “We have to tune it down next semester. Wouldn’t wanna end up in AA instead of graduating.”

“Now, that’s a long way from here,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

“You never know before it’s too late, to be fair.”

You don’t realize it back then, but Chan is always somehow there when you take it too far, taking note of your drunken needs and providing you safety from creeps in the club. Lee Chan holds your hair back when you throw up, your stomach too weak on certain nights. He is there when you want to dance and also when you want to cool down. He’s your drinking buddy, sure, but the reality is greater than that– he always wants you to have fun and be as comfortable as you can be. If he can do anything to ensure that, he’s going to do it.

That applies to your sober adventures as well, although he’s more reserved when he has nothing to blame for his obviously smitten actions. Cranking his neck to look at you better, Chan decides to get rid of anything to blame next time. 

Maybe he has to try harder.

Just tonight, for the last time, Chan kisses you with an excuse of alcohol to fall back on in front of your dorm building when nobody is watching, paying his goodbyes to you. He kisses you almost tenderly, making your knees buckle and the lightness in your stomach cry out with full measures.

“I’ll miss you, Y/L/N.”

You don't see Chan for a while after. You spend the rest of the winter break you have after completing your exams at home, relaxing with your parents. They are right when they say that the holidays should be spent with your family– no matter how much you love the friends you made in university.

Coming back to school after the few weeks of break brought a sudden change to your and Chan’s dynamic, though. While you must admit that you’ve grown strangely closer over the months, talking more even sober and naturally gravitating towards each other when sitting in booths at McDonald’s or falling into casual conversation at the back of the group when walking to places with everyone, you find that Chan puts more effort into being friends with you now.

He texts you randomly through-out the day, asking you how you are and what you’re up to. He sends you pictures of Seungkwan when he’s sleeping in the lectures, and you even find yourself laughing at the Instagram reels he randomly shoots your way in the middle of the night sometimes. He doesn’t drink much even when all of you end up going to the nearby bar again on a Tuesday evening, and you find yourself following his pattern, knowing that even if you gave in to the alcohol, the tipsy state wouldn’t be as fun if you didn’t have anyone to share the same energy with. 

Because while you do enjoy drinking, the truth is, it’s not as fun without your drinking buddy. Half the fun of drinking is having fun with the people you share the moment with, and, well, it wouldn’t feel right to drink with the others being sober. You owe your friends that much.

Lee Chan puts effort into being friends with you more, and you don’t know if you like it. 

Because even though before, you weren’t as close as you might be now, the adrenaline of what could be and what even is between the two of you any time you’re under the influence was exciting you, keeping you on your toes, making you feel desired and liked. Now, he’s relaxed– no more than an arm around your shoulder when his hand gets tired in the booth of the bar. The casualty of it all gets you worried.

So when the time comes and the two of you finally hang out one on one today, getting boba and then finding comfort in the April sunlight provided by the park across from your dorms, you find yourself questioning the nature of this hangout. And you think you’re not wrong for that, of course– everyone with working two eyes must admit that Lee Chan has been sending you mixed signals so far.

Hearing the question “Can I kiss you?” from his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink and eyes big in anticipation, was even more surprising to your ears, and you might understand it better now– the history you have with the boy suggests that there’s no need in asking, but also, the intentions are more than unclear at the moment. He’s not drunk– not even tipsy– why is this happening, then?

“I mean, we don’t have to, of course, I– I just–” he stutters, eyes aimlessly breaking eye contact with yours to stare anywhere but at your lips right now, nerves clearly written all over his face and in the stance he’s taking, a few steps below you on the stairway to the dormitory. Snickering at his hesitance, you sigh to yourself.

“This is the first time you asked,” you mumble a little jokingly, and when the boy’s eyes finally meet yours again, he seems a little embarrassed from the way his ears are burning red and he chews on the inside of his cheek. 

The tone of his voice is kind of defeated, a little shy, even, when he speaks up again. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “so I finally wanted to do it right. And sober, no matter how fucking wrong and weird that sounds.”

Breaking into a soft laughter at his comment– because truthfully, to a stranger’s ear, that might sound a little alarming– you roll your eyes at the boy and lean down to be at his level, palms of your hands meeting with his cheeks as he watches you with curious eyes, the sparkle in them filling you to the brim with endearance. Your lips meet with his in a gentle, soft, yet yearning-filled kiss, having your eyes fluttering close and the pads of your thumbs softly stroking over the skin of his cheekbones. 

The kiss is no different to the ones you’ve shared before– well, except there’s no loud music in the background, no smell of trash cans behind the bar or the smoke of an earlier-smoked cigarette in the air, and most importantly, no taste of alcohol on either of your lips– but still, it feels a little different. Sure, it has your knees week and your stomach feeling fuzzy, it does make you feel like you’re drunker than you were, which now, sober, you realize it just the effect Lee Chan has on you alone, but there’s a little more care, thought and intention to the kiss now, and it hits you with full force when you pull away from him and feel his hands glazing the skin of your waist in a hesitant hug.

“So that means this was a date then, right?” you ask.

“Well, you didn’t really seem to care about that all the times we've kissed before–” he jokes, earning himself a swat to his shoulder.

Now he’s bold.

“Okay, sure, if it helps you sleep at night. I’ll even take you out on another one, if you want.”

Turns out that alcohol was the variable in your relationship that only brought you two courage– the desire to kiss his lips off has always been there, you just never acted on it sober. And while you’re not so sure you’re gonna tell the story of how you two met in detail to your kids one day, you’re glad for the kick the rum and coke gave you on the day of your orientation, because who knows. Maybe you wouldn’t be here without the weird coincidence.

[gars-weaponeer]

Let's talk about he unwarranted Fox hate.

I often see that a lot of people tend to hate on Commander Fox, often portraying him as a villainous kind of character or very cold and selfish compared to the more heroic and beloved Commander Thorn.

I see these two characters portrayed as "the good commander" and "the bad commander" of the Coruscant guard, when in reality they are both pretty much the same character.

But just for the fact that Fox killed Fives, the public decided to label him as a "bad guy".

But that's not the case, in fact if we changed characters and placed Thorn hunting after Fives and Fox on the diplomatic mission, chances are both situations would have ended the same way: with Fives dead at the hands of Thorn and Fox dying heroically for the republic.

Why is this?

Well for starters we need to understand what a Coruscant guard is.

These were clones that were raised and trained differently from common clone troopers as their assignment was to act as a security police force for Coruscant. As a result, they dealt with different threats than normal troopers.

Clone troopers knew what their enemies looked like, the separatist forces were easy to recognize in the battlefield. But for the Coruscant guard the enemy could take many forms. They would not see battle droids on the streets attempting on the lives of the senate. They would have to deal with terrorists, dressed as common folk or unconscious work droids. They had to be more alert and more skeptic of their surroundings 24/7 as the fate of the republic laid in their hands.

One false move could cost the lives of the chancellor and the senate and with them the Republic would fall. That is the weight these clones carry on their shoulders. This is the responsibility that both Fox and Thorn carry along with the other commanders in red.

Both Fox and Thorn are very similar in canon.

Fox appears more than Thorn and we can see from his canon(and legends) appearances that he is a fiercely loyal clone to the republic, hard working and honorable like many of his brothers. He is the first to charge into battle, leading his troops with bravery and has little patience for criminals.

Thorn seems to have a similar sense of duty, loyalty and bravery that Fox has, as he also stands his ground during battle, refusing to surrender til the very last second. We sadly don't see more of Thorn beyond his one and only appearance.

So why do people hate Fox so much, when he and Thorn are not that different?

Well, he killed Fives.

But I don't think he should be hated for it.

To explain this, join me to see things through the fox's eye, and learn the other side of the story.

We as the audience know Fives since he is a Shiny, and we see him grow up, level up, become an ARC trooper and survive many perils. We see him discover that one plot that we know causes so much death and destruction and even tho we know the ending of the story, we want to root for him and we get frustrated when we see no-one hears him out. We also, as the audience, know that Palpatine is the bad guy, he is playing chess against himself and ruining the lives of countless people for his own sick pleasure in his path to rule the Galaxy.

But Fox doesn't know any of this.

He doesn't know Palpatine is secretly Dath Sidious. He doesn't know there is a secret plot to destroy the Jedi and that he and his brothers are just pawns in a greater scheme.

As far as he is concerned, the Chancellor is the head of the Republic, and if anything happens to him it might mean the end of the Republic and the death of not only him but all his brothers. It's his duty to protect Palpatine from harm. And there are a lot of people trying to hurt him.

He also doesn't know Fives.

He might have heard of him as Fives is a respected ARC trooper from the 501st. But he doesn't know him personally like we do, like Rex does. He has no real connection to him other than Fives being another Clone like him.

So when he hears that there is this erratic clone that tried to kill Palpatine and is now on the run, of course he would see Fives as a threat.

Remember that the Kaminoans covered the whole inhibitor chip thing by saying it was a behavioral regulator, that kept Clones from becoming aggressive and erratic. The Kaminoan even took the example of Tup's chip malfunction as proof that without the chip the clones turn irrational and unpredictable. This is the information the characters have. The ONLY ONES that know the truth are Palpatine, the Kaminoans and Fives.

So in Fox's eyes, Fives turned erratic because he also has a chip malfunction. He became irrational, unpredictable, erratic and has attempted to kill someone before. He might try to do so again and is now on the run. It's his duty as head of the Coruscant guard to find him and stop him before he hurts someone.

When he finds Fives, he has Anakin and Rex as hostages and is talking nonsense, acting erratic and paranoic. He could hurt Anakin or Rex, two very important and prominent figures in the GAR and their deaths could result in disadvantage against the Separatist forces. Fox cannot afford that. And yet he doesn't enter shooting, he points his gun at Fives and orders him to raise his hands and surrender. He gives Fives a chance to go peacefully, to de-escalate the situation. And when he sees that Fives looks at the blaster on his side he even yells at him to stop, he asks him not to do it, not to take the gun and make things worse. But Fives doesn't listen, he takes the gun yelling and Fox has to make a split-second decision.

In a moment like that, when you are a second away of a disaster, when you, your brothers or the hostages could get killed by the shot of a unhinged person. You don't get enough time to think.

Fox reacts and shoots Fives to stop him from harming others.

Sure, we could argue that Fox could have used stun instead, or that he could have shot Five's hand, anything to not kill him.

But we need to understand that in situations like that, when tensions are high, then it's life or death and you have to take a split-second decision, you don't usually have time to be rational.

Even the most trained people can't always take the most rational option, and often choose the best option they can.

Fox took the best option he could in that situation.

And I don't think that Thorn, Thire, Stone or any of the other Shock trooper Commanders would have done any different, any better.

They all would have been faced with the same dire situation, and they all would have had to take the split-second decision.

One could argue that the fact that Fox was not present in the circle of Coruscant guards taking off their helmets as they mourn Fives, could imply that he was indifferent to his death.

And maybe? However I don't think that's the case.

Remember that Fox tried to stop Fives, he tried to give him a chance to surrender and in the end he couldn't stop. He had to shoot a fellow clone. A clone whose face he sees in all his brothers, the companions he trained with, fought with, work with everyday. He did not wanted to kill Fives.

That has to be very haunting.

I like to believe that Fox is not the mourning circle, because he had to take a step back to come to terms to what he has done.

Fox has been proven to be an honorable man. How can he stand a join the mourning of a man he just killed? How can he see into Rex's eyes as he cries for the close brother he has lost? Maybe he felt like he had no right to be there.

Then again this is just my speculation, considering what little canon we have of Fox.

In general I don't think we should hate on Fox for Fives' death. Sure, Fives is easily my second favorite clone, way above Fox in my raitings, and I suffered a lot when he died. But I do think that the situation was way to out of hand and Fox did as best as he could to keep everyone safe.

Fives was not at fault either. Remember he was drugged, and he was feeling frustrated, paranoic, confused, he was panicking and not thinking clearly.

The only one at fault here is Palpatine and his schemes.

That said...

I'm not saying that you should stop portraying Fox as a cold and ruthless character.

Hell, I myself like to represent him as a more stoic and sarcastic person compared to his brothers and I've seen many different portrayals of this character, with many different personalities that I love!

You are free to a enjoy the fandom as you wish after all!

Just keep this post in mind and please don't hate on people who like Fox as a character.

We all deserve to enjoy Star Wars and it's wonderful characters that inspire us.

┕━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

Well, this has been my Rant! If you reached all the way down here thank you for reading ♥

And may the force be with you.

[matramancer]

NARUMI GEN WITH A MITSURI! LIKE READER🌸

🌸Synopsis: Although the elite forces of the first division were known for how strict and stern they are, there stands a girl who seems to act the polar opposite.

Mitsuri! reader masterlist

tags: narumi x reader, fem!reader, reader is similar to Mitsuri from KNY, fluff, reader is kikoru’s mentor sort of, narumi is a loser, can be platonic but might lean into romantic later on

Right off the bat, it’s no secret that the 1st Division is filled with elites. Led by Japan’s strongest, Gen Narumi, it houses some of the most talented, toughest hard hitters the Defense Force could be proud of.

Though most seem tight-lipped and stern, there exists one exception… one whose face full of smiles and bright demeanor seemed to make her shine amidst her more reserved peers.

You were thought of as a sort of spectacle in the Defense Force by newcomers and veterans alike. In a place where certain death came close often, where many souls have been hardened, you still greeted your comrades with a smile, your voice booming and sweet, gushing over delicious sakura mochi and voicing straightforward compliments to other officers with unparalleled excitement. 

You were kind of the exact opposite of what one would envision a strong member of the corps. At least, compared to the serious and foreboding image that belonged to people like Captain Narumi.

In fact, everyone could agree that seeing the two of you next to each other when duty calls always felt jarring. 

Despite his rather unruly, loser like behavior, Narumi was able to keep up his cool image once he suited up, his large and foreboding bayonet casting a large shadow as if to intimidate those who laid eyes on him (no one would guess that he was knee deep in a Yamazon addiction and pushing his rank on shooter games an hour prior). His soldiers were no different.

And there you were, a bright ray of sunshine with red dusted cheeks full of smiles. There was absolutely no way to hide your lively expression as you gushed over how cool Shinonome was, how Kikoru looked absolutely amazing with her axe, how you even complimented Kafka’s determined expression. 

“Shinonome-chan! You’re as cool as always!” “The feel I’m getting from Kikoru-chan is so intense!” “Aaa! Kafka is working so hard today.” Your expression held all that you had to say.

And of course, the compliments you had for Narumi were just as intense, and served as fuel for the fire that was his ego. 

Although you came from a great place, it’d be really troublesome if he got too into his head about it, so before Narumi could ever feel the sweet wave of ego boosts headed to his way, Hasegawa would already be behind him, chopping the top of his head with a hand as he orders the captain to focus (he sulks a bit outside of missions about this, glaring at the other officers who were privy to what he couldn’t indulge in).

“If your personality wasn’t as trashy, maybe we’d actually let you hear (y/n)’s compliments.” 

“ISN’T SHE ONE OF MY OFFICERS? WHY WON’T YOU ACTUALLY LET ME NEAR HER? AT LEAST LET ME HEAR MORE ABOUT HOW GREAT I AM–OI!” sulked a very fussy Narumi being scolded by Hasegawa as Shinonome discreetly tugged you further away from him.

Despite your more unorthodox personality and how you were seemingly airheaded at a first glance–not the best look for a fierce warrior, you had amassed a great deal of respect in the Defense Force. There was a reason you made it in the first division, alive and well-loved by everyone around you. 

Because behind your loveable demeanor and slightly childish antics, you were absolutely merciless in battle.

It was always a treat for the personnel in the control room and your veteran officers when newcomers came in and saw you in battle for the first time, gawking at the clearly unexpected jump between what you were like on and off the field.

It was quickly understood how you had amassed so much respect. How swiftly you cleared the breached areas infested with yonju, how you handled a swarm of them all by yourself, how it seemed like you were superhuman as you bent and twirled around in the air, sticking all of your landings and landing hits with such power.

You weren’t an ordinary fighter. Not when you sped past a group of injured officers and promptly took down a kaiju speeding towards them with your feet, before finishing the job with a large blast that felt unfathomable from the gun you were holding. 

Not with how you tore apart the yonju with what felt like pure strength, even with your high combat power. It largely baffled the people in the control room as they cross checked your initial assessment with your on field vitals, scrambling over the discovery of how your muscles were denser and seemed to display a sense of strength multiple times stronger than the common man. Paired with the grueling training you endured in the first division and the adrenaline from the imminent threat you were facing, you were a beast.

Yet, you never lost touch of your real self. Never let the losses numbed you in the line of work you chose. You mourned, you wept, yet you kept smiling, your touch warm to the new recruits who caught a major loss in their batch after a major kaiju attack, your words of encouragement and gentle smiles receiving more and more appreciation as your time in the first division turned from weeks to months to years. 

By the time battles became commonplace for you, you had caught the heads of many in the upper command, including the gaze of Narumi Gen, who, had he not seen your feats in person, wouldn’t be able to believe that the girl who awkwardly tripped from excitement and owed 50 push ups on her first day on the job was the same girl who was able to hold her own against a daikaiju before reinforcements came.

It was a large fight that required heavy backup in the wake of a sudden daikaiju appearance, following what was initially a smaller operation in a remote landmark. With only the small team from the prior operation dispatched at the time, Narumi was immediately called for backup.

He listened intently on how the mission was progressing. How half the squad had nearly been wiped out. Not injured, gone. Help was still over twenty minutes away by helicopter.

“We’re rerouting your squadron to team B,” one of the operators spoke into his earpiece. “The daikaiju attack separated them several kilometers away. Prioritize the survivors.” 

“Understood.” The loss of lives was unfortunately something you never had the time to grief over in a time and place like this. That was something Narumi knew very well. So, he simply prepares for the drop, listening in to the comms.

And then, the unexpected happened.

“High energy readings detected from zone A!”

“This–this is all from?!--”

A series of giant blasts alongside the roar of the daikaiju ravaged through the air and sea, just at their drop point. Alarms blared as their squad carefully regained their balance, weapons at the ready. “Confirm the other source of the blasts! We don’t know if it’s from another kaiju or something else!”

It had been twenty minutes since the start of the operation. The vitals of the large majority of the remaining officers had been detected near the safe zone they’ve enforced, with Narumi’s team now ordered for subjugation. As Narumi makes his way to the collision zone, he feels a strong, foreboding aura, the same one that must have taken part in that earlier series of blasts.

“It’s…” The comms blare up as the drone accompanying his squadron scans the vicinity. Although he was on high alert from the threat. knowing what they were up against, nothing could have prepared him for the sight he was about to see next. 

“--Officer (L/N) (Y/N)!” As your name rang through his ears, Narumi’s eyes widened as he saw your worn out figure balancing the machine gun left behind by your platoon leader, severely injured–but alive.

And the look in your eyes was merciless.

It was a rare occasion, something that had seldomly ever happened in his time at the Force, where Narumi had internally taken a step back in astoundment. As if the seer desperation and aura you carried manifested physically, telling people a story with no words.

It was you, the officer holding on against a large class Kaiju in those mere twenty minutes all by herself, hoisting the machine gun your platoon leader entrusted to you.

“Captain Narumi,” you spoke with so much respect, even in such a state. The same girl that was so smiley and bouncy in the dining halls, the girl that kept gushing over cute cats and how exciting love could be. The sweet cadet who was akin to sakura mochi. “I’ve led the rest of my team to the rendezvous zone. Please, let me hel…”

All you remembered next was everything fading to black, hearing a final sentence from the captain himself. “You worked hard, (L/N). Leave the rest to me.” 

He later learned that you hacked, slashed, and had fired so many rounds, you weakened the entire constitution of the Kaiju, so much so that you had basically cleared a path for him.

And in doing so, you also caught Narumi Gen’s eye. He even ended up vouching for the clearance of your special weapon himself.

He came to not only respect you, but to learn more about you. 

Your cheeriness was something that was quite new for him to grasp. You were so eager and outspoken, yet at the same time emotional and bashful. He still remembers how you became a flustered mess when he personally came to visit your hospital room after your run in with the aforementioned daikaiju, your hands flailing around in embarrassment as you choked on your food at his presence (was this the same girl that shot that kaiju in the eye at point blank?)

Don’t get him started on when you were to report to the higher ups about the daikaiju, coinciding with the meeting to discuss your promotion.

Could it have been worse? Definitely. But it was certainly still an interesting sight as you attempted to answer the question regarding your fight with the daikaiju.

Okay, maybe you got a bit too excited… “When I saw the daikaiju, it was like GWAHHH and then my heart felt like BAM BAM BAM, but then it went WHOOOOOMMMMM as we ran around the entire forest, THEN THEN THENNNN!!!! GAAAAAAHHH–”

“--and!” your breath hitched as you caught yourself mid burst. There, you could not only feel Narumi, Hasegawa, and some other senior officers staring at you, but even Director General Shinomiya. Your lips pursed into an extremely awkward smile as realization daunted upon you.

“...My apologies,” you bowed with your entire body, your forehead hitting the floor. “I’ll try to explain it again.”

Narumi couldn’t tell if he was mortified or still in disbelief. More mortified than you maybe. It felt like his soul had been sucked out. Even Hasegawa was at a loss for words, glaring at him from the side of his eye. Ah shit. 

“I promise she has potential,” he swore to Isao after in his office, also experiencing second hand embarrassment. “Please… please don’t mind her.”

Present day, you had earned your spot as a formidable part of the first division as a platoon leader, inheriting your late senior’s position alongside their weapon, worthy from strength alone. 

But things were a bit different with Narumi now, even with the man’s result oriented resolve.

Because it wasn’t just your raw power that made up your strength, it was your being—what made you, you. And it was daunting for Narumi, an entirely new avenue of consideration for him.

He never really thought about it, but your personality was the key factor that really placed the significance you had for him. 

It wasn’t like you lacked strength. No, you were definitely on par with Kikoru. If he wasn’t training her, he could find the blonde tagging along with you, with you beaming in excitement as you smothered her in compliments and encouragement. You had your full trust in her and her future, something Narumi didn’t voice out as verbally.

Likewise could be said for Kikoru—she had absolute trust in you and how powerful you were, eager to have you teach her your mid air maneuvers. Narumi encouraged it, actually. You both carried heavy weaponry into the field, packing a particularly mean punch. She could pick up a thing or two.

But he also remembers you as the girl smiling ear to ear as she asked him about his figure collection. The girl who was always honest with her compliments, even though Hasegawa would make sure that your words wouldn’t reach him. The girl who rushed headfirst to comfort a child after defeating a kaiju together with him, a warm smile akin to summer warmth.

“It’s ok now,” Narumi perks up, fixing his grip on his bayonet as he turns to watch you crouch down to some rubble. “The bad kaiju is gone. You can come out.”

The child trembles in fear, seeing Narumi with his big weapon might’ve confused him even more. “It’s okay,” you softly held out your hand, Narumi watching from behind in intrigue. “That’s Narumi-niichan. He got rid of the bad guys. He’s a friend.”

Slowly, the child crawls over to you, and you hoist him up to your arms. “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner. How about we look for your mama and papa together? They must be worried.”

He sniffles a bit. Speaking a few names. You ask again out of curiosity. “My sisters…” 

Narumi stiffens as he feels a few more pairs of eyes around them. Noticing them as well, your mouth forms a small “O”, before smiling again. “I’ll carry all of you to your mom and pops then! I’ll make it super fun!”

Narumi watched in bewilderment as you balanced a total of four kids on your upper body, making your way to the closest shelter. 

“I promise to report back! Kids, say thank you to Narumi-niichan!” A chorus of high pitched voices thanking him broke the silence before you excused yourself, leaving the captain alone.

That was a show of your feats of strength—your true strength, Narumi realizes.

You were certainly a remarkable character in the force, and he’d never change that. 

Slowly but surely, your presence definitely left a mark on him. He also learns about your big appetite, and it became a common sight to see the two of you together at the dining hall, heaps of trays on your side as Narumi gamed on his handheld beside you.

“You know, Narumi-kun,” your voice held that same cheerful note that was as soft as early spring, eyes shining in pure delight. “When I see those delicious fried onigiri they serve in the dining hall, I get hungry again!!” You beam, before regaining your composure. “Ah, don’t tell anyone else ok?”

He secretly puts in the word to make it a permanent meal, alongside your favorite foods. Hasegawa definitely notices.

Narumi enjoys sparring with you. Though he is boastful of his own strength, honed by Isao himself, your midair techniques and combat keep you a fresh and interesting opponent. Likewise, Narumi tested your finesse. Despite the physical prowess you carried, you still had to hone your skill, and Narumi was one of the best players in the game as of now. It kept the rounds interesting.

The two of you also fight really well together.

Which would you rather die from? Squadron Style Bayonet Technique Number Two: Slash Salvo, or Sixth Form: Cat Legged Winds of Love?

Spoiler: both of them. With your high physical prowess and insane flexibility, you’re one of if not the only officer in the first division able to directly tag team alongside Narumi, with his otherwise individualistic fighting preference.

If Hasegawa’s role was to actually keep the division in check, giving orders to the other soldiers while Narumi sped forward, you were the second DPS (Narumi’s gamer terms) following ensuite. You could be beside him, being his second heavy hitter to clear the path, or a reliable tank to decimate other formidable foes that Narumi wasn’t occupied with.

On the occasions where the two of you partnered up together to fight a particularly tricky kaiju, that was when the peak of your techniques used together would come into play. Acting as two heavy hitters, Narumi focuses on taking out the main body, alternating between slashes and shots.

Should the Kaiju be able to handle his regular onslaught of attacks, then it might think it’ll stand a chance, but make no mistake. When its limbs or other means of attack come into play, you’ve already lunged forward with your other special weapon—one especially crafted for you after your innate flexibility—the whip-like sword completely unique to any other weapon found in the force. Its first and only bearer.

 The kaiju lets out a painful shriek as you slice its many tendrils up into ribbons, stopping any of them from even reaching Narumi. With every attempt to regenerate, every attempt in seething anger to launch attacks to your captain, you never failed to get in the way, lodging yourself in between and countering until its regeneration couldn’t keep up. If Narumi wanted an opening, then it’s your job as a platoon leader to get it done. “CAPTAIN!”

Although the two of you work well in battle, Narumi always scoffs a bit at how flashy your techniques are, a reoccuring theme in the 1st Division. “Show off,” he thinks to himself—being completely hypocritical—smiling as he readied his final stance. With Squadron Style Bayonet, the battle was over, the core taken out.

Upon returning to base, Narumi had already fished you for dozens of compliments, to the disdain of Hasegawa.

“Please don’t take advantage of the good and honest nature of our Platoon Leader,” the 1st division officers sigh, watching as Hasegawa scolds him to no end again.

You’re one of the Defense Forces’ officers that Narumi acknowledges and respects, great enough to fight alongside him. A strong feat courtesy of all the hard work and determination you’ve put with your time in the force, which only made you more admirable.

In fact, as Narumi and General Shinomiya convene in a meeting, discussing the future endeavors needed to ensure the future of the Defense Force, your name alongside others came to mind. With your years of service and direct surveillance from him and Narumi, your potential has never ceased to cap itself.

You were essential in the young generation that was to take over.

And maybe, just maybe, when it’s time to break the news…

Narumi runs his hands through the documents in his grip, your photo ID, credentials, and combat assessment printed in fine ink.

You’d rise for the potential of your own numbers suit.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・���・・・・・・・★

A/N: Ahhhhh Narumi, Mitsuri!reader and Kikoru’s relationship is so cute… i want to make a part 2 with their dynamics.

[stagnation-if]

You blink languidly, and all you see is light. When you fell asleep, that information evades your mind. All you see is light and whiteness, and you don’t know where you are, or what you’re supposed to do. You remember a long dream, fields of daffodils and dewy meadows, and a voice deep and haunting like a nightmare.

The Deity of Dreams has awoken.

It's the year 2524, and you're a defeated God/Goddess/Deity in a place and time where your kind is rarely needed anymore. After being locked away and thought to be dead for nearly a millennia, you wake up.

Features

Customize your God/Goddess/Deity of dreams.

Retrieve (or not) your now metaphorical throne, stolen by your killer, the God of War and Discord.

Explore and survive in a futuristic and very posthuman world. A world so much different from the one you were pried from.

Blend among mortals, pretend to be one of them— whether you embrace that side of you or not is up to you.

Get your power back after a thousand years of slumber.

Romance or befriend a cast of six characters.

Poly options: Dawn/Bruno, Eris/Dawn, A/Seth, Bruno/Seth.

Characters

Dawn (she/her) • THE REBEL

A rebel and a hacker. Possibly the sole reason you’re awake today, too. She hates deities but seems desperate to get rid of the God of War, even if that involves working with you.

Bruno Lee (he/him) • THE HISTORIAN

Bruno may call himself a historian, a curious old soul in search of unveiling the secrets of the past. But given the fact that he's the only other being locked away with you, there must be more to him.

Vex (they/them) • THE CYBORG

Vex—who also goes by V—is a law enforcer who seems to be more metal than flesh. They represent the crude reality that time has moved on without you. Though V claims they're loyal to their God of War, they've been roped along to help their little sister Dawn.

Amara/Aiden/Asher Moonless (she/her he/him or they/them) • THE LOST ONE

Your memory fades and wavers but you remember A (how could you not). You know they're not the same person you were oh so close to so many centuries ago, but their similarities are eerily noticeable.

Estelle ‘Eris’ Lawrence (she/her) • THE CELEBRITY

Also known as The Voice, Eris is an actress, singer and model. She's every teenager’s daydream, the vivid representation of rags to riches. And, according to Dawn, a valuable ally to have by your side.

Seth (he/him) • THE GOD OF WAR

Your killer and enemy. You knew him once, or so you thought. All that your relationship with him got you was a sword through your chest.

DEMO

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Hello Benny! How are you doing? Did you sleep well? Be sure to have a snack if you haven’t already!

I saw in your masterlist that you are writing for Honkai Star Rail, and so I had one request - What do you think about Argenti with the Knight of Beauty! Reader? There is so little content with Argenti (especially with m!reader), and I love it so much love it!😭💞

In any case, ignore if you don't like it! I apologize for any mistakes

-🌾 anon

Argenti - Knight of Beauty Male Reader, General Fluff

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hey 🌾wheat anon, I know it's been a super long time and you've probably already forgotten this ask, but I finally got around to doing it. You didn't really give me any details of what you wanted besides the character, so I just went with what I felt was best; so, I based the reader off of Rook Hunt a little bit. I ended up having to do some serious Argenti research since I don't play Honkai Star Rail, so I hope this is at least a little accurate. The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Dandelions” by Ruth B.. —Benny🐰                                                                                                               

🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼

❝'𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕴'𝖒 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; 𝖂𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊~❞

. . .

💐  You and Argenti travel together as a duo, spreading the word of the ethereal beauty of your missing Aeon, Idrila. The rose knight had met you during a visit to far off planet with little to no population; it would seem that you had been stranded on the planet after going there yourself. Argenti didn't recognize you, so he assumed that you didn't belong to Honorclad to which he learned that you belonged to a smaller group called Sonnetheld.

💐  You both were interested in each other's different expressions and ways to appreciate and worship beauty. Argenti would always find himself relaxing when you recited your eloquent and vivid poems; your voice and the way you pronounced your words always filled his mind with bliss. While you, despite him being downright awful at it, found yourself appreciating whenever he tried his hand at playing the ocarina to pass the time between travels to another location.

💐  The two of you spend a lot of time alone together, so it's pretty much a given that you do just about everything together as well; eating, sleeping, sparring, bathing, etc. You and Argenti trust each other with your lives and your deepest darkest secrets. Where one of you goes the other isn't far behind.

💐  A favored bonding activity of yours is doing each other's hair. Washing it, moisturizing it, brushing or combing it, curling, braiding, twisting. Argenti has long and gorgeous hair that can be put into many different styles, though your favorite has to be very eccentric and dramatic updos that require many different pins and clips to hold it into place. The rose knight enjoys threading all kinds of flowers into the braids that he's weaved into your hair; turning your skull into a lovely boutonniere of vibrant blooms.

💐  Another activity that you and Argenti take part in is writing songs together, with your poems as the lyrics and the redhead's Aeon awful ocarina playing as the melody. You've both made songs dedicated to each other separately and came together to complete them and hear the finished product. Unlike his woodwind skills, Argenti has a beautiful singing voice, so you often make him read poems about himself and watch him flush in gratitude.

. . .

❝'𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕴'𝖒 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; 𝖂𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊~❞

🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[sinner-as-saint]

heartless

Incubus!Bucky x Witch!reader (fantasy au)

Run-through: You learnt about them when you were young. You had tomes filled with information about them, how to invite one, how to control one, etc. You also knew that if done right, union with an incubus was said to result in the birth of powerful witches. And now, after having spent years all alone following the unfortunate slaughter of your family you have two strong desires; to have a child and to continue the witch bloodline. Both of which can be fulfilled by summoning and making the right arrangements with the right incubus. And the best part of it all, incubi were known to be incapable of love and emotional attachment, so ending the arrangement once you conceived wouldn’t be hard for either parties involved. Except, it’s not always that easy, is it? And perhaps, not all incubi are heartless. 

Themes: breeding kink, smut, fluff, incubus!bucky, witch!reader, size difference, he has wings and a tail, some angst, HEA

a/n: nothing is folklore accurate whatsoever just excessive imagination and vibes hehe 

You were prepared if ever it was not going to work the first time. 

You’d been told, when you were a young woman who had just begun learning about the art of witchcraft under your mother and grandmother’s supervision, that incubi were particularly stubborn and picky demons. They were strong, seductive with vigorous stamina. 

Given their power, they aren’t summoned. No. They are invited. And if they are feeling mischievous and generous, they accept the invitation. Sure, most incubi visited weak mortals of their own volition however they did avoid witches. Because the power dynamic there was more or less in equilibrium. Incubi couldn’t mess with witches like they did with mortals because witches were strong and smart enough to mess with them right back. 

Still, you had made sure that everything was just perfect. You had countless tomes and books and scrolls on your table, all containing multiple ways of inviting an incubus. So many rules to follow. But you had done everything right; every rune, every herb, every incantation, every offering - to complete the invitation you had always been taught to lure them with something they’d want. Other than sex. 

You had been told certain secrets other witch families did not know. Like how incubi, though ravenous, had a weakness for embellishment. Trinkets. Shiny things. So you offered this one a crown made of gilded animal bones. 

You had everything in place. All that was left to do was wait. So you sat there, in what you called your workshop. You had a quiet little home in the middle of the woods. Well away from the kingdom of the vile King who had your entire family eliminated after using your powers and cures to save his wife from a terrible disease. For years the King was kind to your family, but one day, his wife died of natural causes, none of your doing but still, the King went mad and ordered to have your family slain. You managed to escape, unfortunately your mother and grandmother couldn’t. 

So you ran far, far away from the kingdom. Got on a ship and travelled to a new country. Here people were welcoming and kind. No kings and queens, just people living together in harmony. So with what little money you had, you bought a plot of land and built a house. You had neighbours, but since you all had a large country all to yourselves, everyone was scattered rather far and wide from one another. 

This country was unlike anything you’d ever heard or dreamt about. You had friends here who did similar things like you; warlocks, necromancers. Then there were the mermaids in the lake, and the fae people living in the same woods as you, centaurs and wolf shifters lived deeper in the woods, and so many more you still had to meet. There were no wars here, just peace. 

But peace, after some years, started looking a lot like loneliness. During the initial years it seemed like you could do this forever, run your little shop, help your new friends when they needed you, socialise and learn about so many new people and animals, you thought you could spend a lifetime just being here and being happy. But then, as much as you adored your friends and neighbours, you missed family. Your own flesh and blood. And after years of living here and making sure that this was the happiest and safest place to have a family of your own, you wanted a child. And what better way of ensuring to pass on the gifts of your powerful bloodline than this. Besides, witches lived for a very, very long time and you couldn’t imagine spending centuries all alone. 

You had envisioned your dream life often. Since witches most often had daughters, you often dreamt of you and your daughter living in this lovely place. Your home was spacious enough to accommodate around five people easily so you’d have more than enough space. You would build your daughter her own little workshop table. You’d teach her everything your mother and grandmother taught you, and all that you learnt by yourself. You’d watch her grow up and make friends of her own, maybe she’d like the faeries and the mermaids more. Or maybe even the gnomes. Or the pegasus in the meadows. 

Maybe someday down the line you’d have another child. And you’d raise them both with the same kindness and love that your mother had with you. And life would be perfect then; with your girls, your friends, in this peaceful country. 

If only… 

“Such pretty dreams you’re having, little witch.” 

A deep, smooth voice said. Sounding like it wasn’t too far from where you were… sleeping? Had you actually fallen asleep at your desk while waiting? You woke up startled, blinking at the demon in the room who was casually lounging on the chair by the window. The same chair on which you sat and read during the afternoons. 

Except, the demon made the chair look smaller than it was. The chair still accommodated him well enough, but he was bigger. Broad shoulders, wide leathery wings folded behind him, long legs… he was surely taller than most of the people here. Shorter than the giants, but still. You had read that incubi were bigger in height and built and… other assets when compared to mortal men but seeing him in real life was still a little shocking. 

Every other feature of his was mortal-like. Deep blue eyes, slightly darker here in your candlelit workshop. Pretty face, you noticed, if not a little arrogant looking but it suited him. Well defined features. Soft mouth, perfect nose. And he was slightly tanned. You thought he’d be ghostly white, with near translucent skin given there wasn’t any sun in the depths of hell that he came from. He also had shadowy, near black markings all over his hands, chest and some creeping up his neck. Swirls and symbols, and it only made him look even more dangerously attractive. 

The candlelight reflected a little on the shinier parts of his large, leathery wings and you shivered a little before speaking, after clearing your throat. “You came.” You simply said and watched how his mouth twisted into a handsome smirk. 

“How could I not?” He said, sounding cocky. “You gave me a proper invitation. And offered me such a pretty crown,” He twirled the gilded crown between his fingers, and added, “And such soft, delicious bread.” 

Your face contorted in confusion at the sound of that. “Bread?” 

He nodded, still toying with the handmade crown, “Forgive me, I didn’t save you any. I was famished. Butter and honey, was it?” His voice sounded like a purr, like a lover’s caress. Dangerous he was, this one. The handsome ones usually are if you remember your notes correctly. 

You blinked at him once, twice and then looked down at your hand and sure enough, there it was - remnants of the butter. You had been nibbling on homemade bread as you waited earlier, but given that you fell asleep at your desk, the bread must have fallen out of your hand, rolled and landed near the runes. Had you messed up? You couldn’t have. He was here, wasn’t he? 

The demon gave you another arrogant grin, “I assume the bread was a mistake.” 

You stood up from your chair and thought well before speaking, “I apologise.” You said. Even though it is always said to never seem shy and docile in front of the likes of him. You were supposed to assert dominance. But… how could you when he was looking at you like that? Himself looking all regal in all his naked glory. 

He chuckled. Chuckled. Then said, “No matter.” You noticed he remained seated. He said, “I heard your invitation, heard what you wanted from me.” He paused for just a second and noticed the way you squirmed. Then continued, “I appreciate your gifts, witch.” He admitted. “So,” He spoke in the voice which was equivalent to a lover’s soft caress again, “A child?” 

“Yes,” You said firmly, finally able to stand your ground and act like the powerful witch that you were. “A child.” 

He nodded slowly, “I can’t say I’ve ever encountered a motherly sorceress before. Most of them are nasty and cruel.” He spoke with such honesty. It was refreshing almost. 

You managed a faint smile as you looked down at the rings on your fingers, many of them were passed down to you, the others you had handcrafted, “Most of us develop a hard exterior because of how we are treated by most mortals. Half of them are afraid of us and the other half despises us enough to hurt us for no reason.” 

He cocked his head to the side, “Who hurt you?” 

“A King. He… hurt my family.” You answered. 

“Hence the empty house.” He noted. 

“Yes.” You said, finally looking up to meet his deep blue stare. He was… devilishly handsome. Even as he sat there looking all princely which should’ve irritated you because it was your favourite chair. What if his devilishly strong body breaks it? 

But then… 

Then he stood up. Proud and tall. Other parts of him stood proud and tall as well so you couldn’t help but look down, following the many muscles on his broad chest, down to his navel and down to his jutting cock. 

Holy gods. 

He was very, very well endowed. It took some seconds before you moved your shamelessly leering gaze up to his eyes again. And then… holy gods, he was tall. Taking up much more room now that he was standing up in the middle of your, what now seemed cramped, workshop. 

He smirked as he looked down at you. Crossing his muscular arms over his chest he said, “I assume I am to your liking then?” He teased, obviously enjoying the way he had you tongue-tied. 

You looked up at him nervously. You’d never done this before. And now, standing in your dimly lit workshop, wearing your black flowy black robe, the demon did make you feel a little subservient. “I… um, yes.” You struggled to answer, struggled to hold his lordly stare. 

You mindlessly took a step back the moment he began approaching you. Steadily, slowly, letting you see all of him before he came to a stop only inches away from where you stood, near your desk. 

“Well then, little witch. Shall we?” He said, before placing his warm hands on either side of your waist and lifted you up to set you down on the edge of the desk with ease. You never quite realised how strong incubi were until now. They were some of the strongest demons of Hell. 

You were sat on the edge of your wooden desk, legs dangling off the edge as you looked up at him. Only then did you notice his slender tail, as it wrapped around your thigh which was now exposed due to the slit in your black robe. 

The demon seemed to inhale deeply before saying, “You smell absolutely delicious.” He stepped in between your legs, spreading them as he placed both of his hands on either one of your thighs. “May I have a taste?” He asked, slowly pushing your back down on the surface of the table so you lay on it, with your legs still hanging off the edge. 

You nodded. “Yes,” You murmured, watching him lean over you for a moment before he pulled your robe up to your waist, taking in the sight of your bare body under it. 

He hummed in appreciation which shouldn’t have made your body tingle the way it did. Then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted your lower body off the table with ease, enough so that he could comfortably bend and place his mouth right where you didn’t realise you’d been aching for him to touch. 

Your legs hooked easily over his shoulders as his ridiculously soft lips brushed against your inner thighs before you felt his warm, long tongue slide in between your wet lips. He somehow managed to spread your legs even more, leaving you completely at his monstrous mercy as his tongue teasing your entrance, lips sucking on your clit. Damn him. But at least now you understand why most people let incubi feed on them. It’s because their touch was this addicting. 

Your hands rested on either side of your head, limp on the table as you threw your head back and moaned, unable to stop yourself. He growled against you, sending pleasurable vibrations all over your body. His tail remained wrapped around your thigh, slithering along your skin in tandem with his devious tongue as he ate you out ravenously, savouring your taste while holding your heated stare. 

His strong body in contrast with your more mortal-looking one. His hands and arms, covered in those shadowy markings gripped your thighs securely, keeping you spread open for him. He almost made you forget the reason he was here was beyond just pleasuring you. “You taste exquisite, little witch.” 

He knew he could only take minimal energy from you. Mortals were left drained after incubi were done with them but you were stronger, and with your protective wards around you, you didn’t feel as drained. Neither did he feed on you like he would on a mortal. Still, you felt a little delirious, almost euphoric as he tasted you. 

You gasped and moaned as he almost made you come all over his tongue. You’d let yourself go under his irresistible touch. It was high time to get to business. “Don’t forget why you’re here, demon.” You managed to say before he slid his tongue inside you once more before pulling away and placing your lower body back on the wooden table. 

“Of course. You need more than just my tongue, little witch.” He teased, keeping your legs wide open for him as he reached down and easily tore the rest of your robe off your body. You noticed his eyes got darker as he grabbed and fondled your breasts. 

His shadow filled hands slowly trailed down your bare body. He reached your folds and once again teased your clit with his fingers, slowly sliding his one finger down your slit to your opening. His other hand grabbed his cock, guiding it over to your hole. You were drenched down there, he noticed. He was in a mood to play so instead of just sliding into you, he teased you by sliding his tip up and down your slit. 

He rather enjoyed watching you hiss, and whine and whimper, and squirm on the tabletop. “You are going to have to put in some effort to fit me inside you.” He said, purposely pushing his tip against your tight opening, just applying enough pressure to make you lose your mind but not quite enough to slide in just yet. 

Your voice trembled as you spoke, “Don’t… don’t play with me, demon.” You tried to sound as assertive as you could. But you ended up sounding like you were begging him to keep playing. 

“No?” He cooed, almost in a mocking tone. “But you make such pretty sounds when I play with you.” 

You arched your back, moving your hips forward, desperately trying to get his cock to slide inside you. You whimpered when he kept teasing you. “Please,” You murmured. Damn this demon and his enchanting touch. 

He smirked. “Very well then.” He slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you, carefully watching you to gauge your reaction to his size. You felt his length stretching you like no one ever did. You gasped and moaned as he filled you up.

He grabbed your bent legs and spread them open, pushing them as far back as they would go before burying his cock fully inside your tight, warm hole. He held your stare the entire time, even as he pulled out and pushed back into you. 

You gasped for air, the snugness of him feeling unbearably good. With your back flat against the wooden table top and you whined at the feeling of his cock moving swiftly in and out of you. You could feel your walls gripping him and milking him as he pounded into you. 

“You feel just as good as you taste, little one.” He whispered as you threw your head back and moaned, feeling him moving in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was the snug way he felt inside you. 

His large hands grabbed you by the hips, lifting your lower body just inches off the table and pulling you in each time he pushed inside you with enough force to drive you insane. Then… then you felt something pressing against your clit, rubbing it in sync with how he moved against you. His tail. The flat end of it, sliding across your sensitive clit while he fucked you. 

You cried out loud, somehow managing to hold his stare as you slowly felt your brain getting foggy with intense pleasure.

“Look,” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he lowered his gaze to your lower abdomen. You followed his gaze and let out a gasp of both surprise and bliss. You watched how each time he pushed into you, a soft bulge formed against your stomach. “You’re so soft and delicate.” He said, his voice steady and calm as if he wasn’t rutting into you like an animal. 

Mindlessly, you placed your hand right where the bulge formed each time and you felt it against the palm of your hand. You cried out in pleasure again.Your legs trembled as he held them spread open for him, not willing to let them go yet. 

You closed your eyes as you felt your walls clenching around him and the pressure around your lower body felt tight and hot. The handsome demon looked down to where you clenched around his cock. And he sped up, moving the desk along with his thrust and causing books and scrolls and pens to fall carelessly on the ground. 

Somehow, it felt like he fucked you deeper now. Faster. His damned tail moved against you in equal vigour, flicking your clit until you cried out again. He chuckled, watching you nearly come undone beneath him. So he leaned in and said, “Should I fill you up nicely now, little one?” 

His voice, the surprising warmth of his body, the feeling of him inside you, the candlelight which made him look like a wild god. You whined, and said, “Yes, please.” 

He smirked, letting go of your legs and instead leaned over your body so he could get close to your mouth. His hand grabbed your wrists and pinned them down on the table, above your head. This close, your breaths mingled. His heated stare, his warm body pressing against yours while his other hand reached up to toy with your breast. “So soft,” He whispered. 

For some reason, that was all that you needed to hear, all the stimulation you needed to come undone, clenching around him violently as you did. He held your stare through it all and soon after, he spilled inside you too, grunting and gasping for air. 

Your back arched off the wooden table as you felt his warm release filling you up. He pulled out a little and pushed inside you one more time before stopping, properly emptying himself inside you. You were still whimpering and moaning as he pulled out. You could feel his release slowly trickling out of you. 

You closed your eyes for a few moments. And you fully expected him to be gone by the time you caught your breath and opened your eyes. But there he still was. 

He picked you up from the table, cradled you in his arms and asked, “Where’s your bed?” 

You lifted a shaky hand and pointed in the general direction of your bedroom, just outside your workshop and he began walking towards it. He stopped outside the dark doors and nudged them open with his broad shoulder, walking into your bedroom. 

No one had ever been in here. Wherever you had your neighbours and friends over for dinner or the afternoon tea, you hosted them in the kitchen or the other rooms. He was the first person to ever walk into your bedroom and honestly, he didn’t look that out of place. 

Your bedroom was spacious, mainly dark except for some candles which thanks to your magic could be left unattended and would never burn your house down. 

“Here,” He placed you down in the middle of your bed and said, “I’ll take your leave now, little witch.” He spoke, smirking as he let his eyes roam your bare body one last time before turning around. 

You reached out and grabbed his wrist before he would fully turn away. You managed to say, voice a little raspier now after all that moaning and gasping earlier, “You… um, in case this doesn’t work the first time around,” You spoke, hoping he read in between the lines, “And if I find myself in need of your, uh, help again. Would you come if I call?” 

He grinned. “Of course. No need for shiny crowns next time, just leave out some warm bread.” He left you with a playful wink and a handsome smirk. And then just like that, as if the shadows of your room swallowed him whole, he disappeared. 

—

For the following week that passed by, you paid extra attention to your body and with the help of your magic, you’d know if conception occurred. But also, you couldn’t bring yourself to forget the demon. 

He’d been just as energetic and thorough as you expected him to be. But… he had also been much more gentle than you expected him to be. The bread incident made you giggle quietly to yourself now that you thought about it. And you did think about it each time you baked. 

You were extra nervous the next time you sent out an invitation to him. The conception hadn’t happened, as expected because they rarely work the first time. Which meant that you needed the demon again. So as you waited for him to show up, awake this time, you found yourself feeling unnecessarily giddy. 

You not only tried to lure him with your best bread this time, but also a cloak. Not that you minded his naked form but… you felt the need to give him something nice. Not quite like a payment, just a gift if you will. You had made the cloak in a way to accommodate his wings comfortably as well. And those broad shoulders, and strong limbs, and-

You were lost in thoughts of him when a voice spoke up from the corner of the room, “A cloak this time,” He noted, grinning already. “I think you like me quite a lot, little witch.” 

You smiled at him. Your heart almost skipped a beat at the sight of him. The handsome demon came wearing the crown you’d made him the last time. And he looked like a god. Naked, golden skin, shiny crown, dark wings and those shadowy markings all over his skin. 

“It’s just a way of thanking you for, you know, helping me.” 

You didn’t feel so nervous when he approached you this time. You let him come closer until he was standing in between your legs again as you sat on the edge of your desk. He placed his large, warm hands on your thighs as if it were a habit and his tail wrapped around your calf, squeezing just a little to remind you of last time. You shivered at the memory. 

“But do you?” He asked playfully. 

“What?” 

He gave you a cocky grin. “Like me?” 

Well that came out of nowhere. You chuckled, “Yes. I wouldn't have sought you out again if I didn’t.” 

He smirked. Then reached out to touch your face so gently that for a moment you forgot he was a demon from Hell. “I take it that you need me to fill you up again, little witch?” He asked so brazenly, while your face felt hot. 

You managed to say, despite your racing heart, “I do. And I’ve even come up with a plan in order to ensure that it works this time.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, “What plan?” 

Your face heated up again as you said, “I suppose for it to work this time around, maybe you shouldn’t, um, pull away so soon after…” 

“Ah.” The demon’s smirk denoted that he understood. “I see.” He said, “So you wish for me to remain buried deep inside that tight warmth of yours after I’ve filled you up.” He said, purposely just so he could watch you squirm. “I can do that.” 

A sudden confidence shot through you, “Good. That is precisely why you are here, demon.” You sassed. 

The demon chuckled before reaching out to grab you carefully by the jaw. His actions were slow and gentle, as if worried he might accidentally hurt you. “Careful with that mouth of yours.” He hissed playfully, “Don’t you know what happens to pretty little witches when they run their mouths like this?” 

You held his stare, playing along, “No.” You whispered, “What happens to them?” 

He leaned in and whispered against the corner of your mouth in a sinful voice, “They get pinned to the wall and fucked until they cannot think straight.” 

You felt your heart racing faster. Your thighs desperately wanted to clench together but he wouldn’t let that happen. His tail slowly moved up and down your leg, stroking your skin and making you crave his touch even more. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this, right? You were supposed to just take what you needed from one another and that should’ve been it. But… you didn’t mind this. 

His mouth moved along your cheek and you lost your ability to speak. He kissed along your jaw and down your neck, then he said, “I can hear your heart racing, my little witch. Tell me, is that what you want?” He kissed along your collar bones and the top of your breasts. “Do you want to be pinned to the wall and fucked by a cruel, greedy demon like me? Hmm?” 

“Yes…” You managed to whimper. “Please.” 

He scoffed, kissing his way back up your neck before he reached your mouth again, “Alright, little one.” He breathed against your parted lips and moved the two of you with such ease and speed that all you did was blink and you found yourself away from the desk and now naked and pinned to the nearby wall, bare legs wrapped around his torso and his mouth pressed against yours. 

His wings spread wide behind him, blocking the candlelight from reaching the two of you and shrouding you both in unnatural shadows. Almost as if he couldn’t bear the thought of anything else touching you except for him and his darkness. Not even light. 

Your hands wrapped around his broad shoulders, pressing you tightly against his firm body as his mouth moved against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss as he undid the tie of your robe, letting it slip down your body until it fell to the floor. 

His large hand cupped you in between your legs and he pulled away from the kiss, grinning at you like the Devil himself. “All that for me?” He asked, sliding his knuckles along your wet folds, smearing your arousal around. “How very immoral of you. Spreading your legs and getting all wet for someone like me.” 

You whined when he slid a finger inside you, followed by another before he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which make you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

“Are you ready for me now?” He mumbled, kissing down your neck, nibbling on your skin around your collar bones. 

“Yes,” You cried out when he wrapped his mouth around your breast, sucking just enough to drive you wild, making you grind your hips against him, chasing whatever friction you could get. 

His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered. You felt his body tense up against you as well and a quick moment later, he aligned his tip to your dripping wet hole and slowly pushed in. 

His fingers dug into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratched at his shoulders as he filled you up like the previous time, making you whine and moan as he went. His body was familiar now. His heat, his scent. The sound of him breathing, his warm chest pressing against yours. And when you looked down, you already knew you’d find that bulge forming against your stomach each time he buried himself all the way inside of you. 

When he began rocking in and out of you, your body remembered. The stretch of his thickness, the snugness of him, the way he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. It was all familiar. Except this time, you could feel his back muscles moving along with each thrust of his. Each movement of his reminding you of the sheer power his sinful body contained. 

“You feel even better than last time, little one.” He said as his devious tail reached up and wrapped around one of your breasts, pumping it before moving to the other one, and repeated. 

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass, holding you against him, as he sped up into you. He fucked you relentlessly, with a little less caution this time. Your back hit the wall with each thrust and you couldn’t stop whimpering, whining and moaning as he fucked into you with the intensity only a demon like him could. 

Your hands somehow slid beyond his shoulders, grabbing onto the base of his large, dark wings. He stilled. Then supported you up with one hand thanks to his devilish strength, while the other pulled your sneaky hands away from his wings and pinned them above your head. He began fucking you again and said, flirtatiously warning you, “Wings are extremely sensitive.” 

That only intrigued you even more, but all that for later. You needed him right now. And you needed to come. 

He leaned in and nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure, your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his stomach each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace, earning even more moans and gasps from you.

Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace, pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher. The bulge in your stomach forming and disappearing quicker now. Your moans were wanton. 

“Ready for me to fill you up again, little one? Hmm? You’re going to be so full after this,” He whispered, leaning in just so his mouth would brush against yours as he spoke. “Perhaps you’ll still feel me in between your legs when you wake up tomorrow. Is that what you want? Huh? Is that why a pretty little witch like you invited a filthy beast like me? Because you wanted to be so full.” 

You couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his thickness. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his shoulders and chest as loud moans escaped your mouth. He came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls before he filled you up with his warm release. Pumped you full of it until you could feel it inside you. 

And just like you’d instructed him earlier, he didn’t pull away immediately. He caught his breath for a few moments before he moved, keeping you pressed against his chest, still buried deep inside you he pulled away from the wall and walked out of your workshop, towards your bedroom. 

You felt a soft pinch inside your chest at the thought of him being so comfortable with moving around in your house. 

He opened the bedroom door, still holding you close to him as he carefully laid the two of you in your bed. He barely fit in your bed which was in fact made to hold two people. He pressed closer to you as you both laid on your sides facing each other. “Are you alright, little one?” He asked softly. With genuine care. 

You blinked at him lazily, feeling boneless because he’d worn you out. “Hmm, I’m alright.” You whispered, feeling his tail stroking your leg as if comforting you while his hands held you close to him. 

He gave you a rare, soft smile. Then said, “Tell me about your shop.” 

You smiled and answered, “Well, it’s a typical witch shop. I sell crystals, candles, herbs, and medicine. The children get hurt often, especially when they play in these woods, so I sell stuff that heals them even quicker. I have special crystals, laced with magic to help my friends shift quicker. The mermaids love them. The dragon folks up on the mountains love them too. The wolves wear them around their necks like necklaces.” You paused, “Why do you ask?” 

He shrugged, the movement also moving him while he was inside you so you whimpered in pleasure. He pulled you closer, kissing your forehead as if apologising and answered, “I’m just curious about your community here. It all seems so… peaceful.” He said. 

“It is.” You gave him a faint smile. “Everyone is welcomed here. A family of moth people just moved in down the creek. They have the most adorable little children.” You giggled. “And-,” You stopped abruptly at the sight of the longing and slight envy in his eyes. “What is it?” You asked, sensing the shift in his demeanour. He seemed sad. 

He gave you a faint, fake smile. “I’m just thinking about how nice it must be. To be accepted for being whatever you are. To have friends and not have people look at you and run away screaming.” 

Your heart ached for the handsome demon. You reached out and laid a hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, sincerely. “Is it that bad where you’re from?” 

“It’s lonely.” He answered truthfully. You knew the feeling all too well. 

Your thumb instinctively began stroking his smooth cheek. “And you can’t leave.” You stated, suddenly feeling very bad for the demon. 

“Oh we can leave. I know a few of my kind who have left and moved elsewhere, but it’s not common.” He said, “There are not many places where beings like me are accepted.” Then he smiled and said, “I’m not like you, little witch. I have no skills. There’s nothing I can do to contribute to a lovely community like this one and have its people accept me as one of their own.” 

You chuckled, “Well, I’m sure we could find something for you to do.” You said, “You have wings and can move at incredible speed, maybe you could be a mail carrier.” 

He laughed. Truly laugh, louder than he ever had. And he looked like a god while he did. His boyish laughter echoed around your bedroom and if you could bottle up the sound and keep it forever, you would. 

When he finally stopped and looked back at you, you could’ve sworn you saw something resembling affection in his eyes. “You truly are something, little witch. I’m very glad I met you.” For some reason, his words felt like goodbye. 

And then it hit you. If you managed to conceive this time, maybe this would be goodbye. You snuggled closer to him, refusing to think about that right now, and said, “And I’m glad I met you, demon.” His wing wrapped around you and you fell asleep some moments after, cocooned in the warmth of his body and wing. 

—

When you woke up in the morning, he was gone. The entire day went by in a blur. You worked at your shop, met up with your friends for afternoon tea, made yourself dinner and then you went back to bed. And repeat. 

It was only two days later, when you sensed something different about your body did you realise that it had happened. You were expecting. And your heart sank, solidifying the fact that you would never see the demon again. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but you couldn’t get rid of the sadness. 

But that was the initial plan, was it not? So what if you’d miss his handsome face, his cocky humour, and his touch. This is what you wanted, a baby. And now you were going to have one. And yet, you couldn’t help but miss him. 

You thought the absence of him would not matter in time, but weeks later, it felt the same. Each time you made your bed, each time you baked, each time you saw a couple walking hand in hand, everything reminded you of the surprisingly kind demon. 

But then one evening, as you returned home from your shop, you sensed something different in the air the moment you stepped inside your house. 

And something stirred inside you, that pinch in your chest, the way your heart fluttered. You knew. 

“You’re here.” You whispered, shutting the door behind you. You placed your basket down and waited. And then, as if he stepped out of shadow itself, one moment he was nowhere to be seen and the next, he was standing a few feet away from you. 

Wearing his dark cloak and his golden crown. He looked like a forgotten, ancient god. One so handsome anyone would willingly worship at his altar. “I am.” He answered, looking at you with sad eyes. 

You held his stare and both of you were quiet for a while. You hadn’t invited him tonight. It had been weeks since you last saw each other and seeing him right now, it hurt. It hurt even more because he seemed… lost, hurt and confused. And you didn’t know what to do. 

Then his eyes trailed down your body, stopping around your midsection. You smiled and placed a hand on your abdomen, even though you hadn’t started showing just yet. “It worked,” You told him. “I’m expecting.” 

“I see.” When he looked up to meet your eyes again he looked even more miserable. And heartbreakingly alone. 

“Well,” You said cheerfully, hoping to make him feel a little better. “I was going to make dinner, would you like to join me? I even made fresh bread.” You said, smiling up at him. 

He gave you a faint smile, noticing how you weren’t asking him what he was doing here. He nodded, following you to the kitchen and the cosy dining table. 

–

Dinner went well. The conversation flowed. He asked you about your neighbours and friends, and your shop. He laughed at your jokes and you laughed at his. Yet once you were both done with your food, the tense silence was back. 

Then, while he helped you put away the dishes he said, “I wanted to see you.” 

You placed the last plate down and then turned to look at him. “I’m glad you came.” He was so tall that you had to extend your arm up completely to be able to touch the shiny crown on his head. It warmed your heart that he wore it. You smiled and asked, “You really like that crown, don’t you?” 

He smiled back at you and said, “It’s my favourite gift I’ve ever been given.” 

“Do you show it off to everyone?” You asked, teasing him. 

His smile fell a little. “I have no one to show it off to.” He stated. 

Your heart broke at the sound of that. You couldn’t help but lean in and wrap your arms around his torso. He was warm, his body heat wrapping around you as you hugged him. “I’ve missed you too.” You said. 

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and kissed the top of your head. “Can I stay for a while?” He asked, and the softness of his voice made you tear up. 

“Of course you can stay,” You said, then pulled away to look up at his pretty face. “For as long as you wish to.” 

So you and the handsome demon found yourselves on that favourite chair of yours, with you on his lap. You tried to read but then ended up engaging in playful banters with him until you slowly drifted off to sleep right there on his lap, with your face nuzzling his neck. He had his arms wrapped protectively around you, reminding you a lot of how the dragons guarded their hoards. 

So you fell asleep, dreaming of random things until… 

You were in the meadows. The sun was about to set so the sky was nothing but golden and pink and purple. But you weren’t alone. A little girl was holding your hand tightly. 

Your daughter? 

You looked down and she was barely tall enough to reach your knees but she squealed in happiness, pointing up at the sky. You followed her small finger and found a dark spot in the pink and purple sky above. A dark spot, like shadows, that grew and grew until it looked like it was getting closer and closer to the ground. It was. He was. Mighty wings flapping in the wind as he flew above you in circles until he landed on the grass with a loud thud. 

Your daughter dropped your hand and ran to him, to her father. And he picked her up, holding her high up in the air, laughing as she giggled louder than ever, before hugging her close as he walked over to you. Once close enough, he bent down to kiss your forehead, curling a wing around you. As if it were a habit. As if he’d done it hundreds of times. 

“Let’s go home, my love.” 

You woke up, and immediately pulled away to meet his eyes. Incubi could infiltrate dreams with ease. And your handsome demon had done just that. 

You held his stare in silence for a while. Then you managed to ask, voice a little shaky, “Is that- what you just showed me, is that something you would want?” 

He grabbed you by the hips and pulled you even closer, “You are what I want.” He whispered, inches away from your lips. “You and…” He placed a hand on your not-showing-yet stomach. “Her. And however many more babies you would want from me. I want everything with you.” 

Your eyes watered, and you managed a faint smile as you said, “And here I was taught that demons were heartless.” 

He chuckled, and grabbed your hand and brought it up to his chest. He placed your palm down on the material of the cloak, right in the middle of his chest and said, “Feel that?” He pressed your palm against his chest. And you felt it, the steady beat of his heart. “I forgot it was even there. Until it began racing the other day when I thought of you.” 

You blinked away the wetness at your waterline, sniffled and said, “How poetic of you, demon.” Then you realised, “I don’t even know your name.” 

He laughed again, eyes filled with adoration as he looked at you. “I don’t have one. Then again, my name can be whatever you want it to be.” 

Your heart doubled in size just looking at him. “Are you sure you want this? You’ll have to pull your weight. I’ll make you do chores.” You teased. 

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.” He smirked then added, “I’ll even carry mail around if you want.” 

You couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. One that made him growl possessively against your mouth before he claimed it with enough passion that had you undoing the buttons in the front of your dress as quickly as you could. 

He helped you in getting rid of your long, flowy dress. Then as you straddled his lap properly, he shrugged off his cloak and dropped it on the ground. And all it took was one silent, pleading look from him and you bucked your hips against his, your wet core rubbing against his erection and he grunted. His hands rubbed up and down your sides lovingly. 

“Don’t tease me, little witch.” He whispered mischievously against your mouth, your warm breaths mingling. The fact that he was willing to just sit there and let you take whatever you wanted from him turned you ravenous. 

You lifted off his lap and slowly lowered yourself down on his cock, or tried to because you still had trouble taking him given his size. But with a little help, he grabbed you by the hips to keep you in place and he pushed up into you. Making you cry out as you finally began sinking down on him. Somehow, he felt bigger this way and your body resisted just a little to fit him inside. 

An arrogant smirk formed on his pretty face as he watched you struggle for a while. “Do you need help, little one?” He asked, and once you nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes, he grabbed your hips in place and gently began thrusting his hips up into you until you found a pleasurable pace. 

When you felt that your body could take it, you began moving against him. Lifting up just the slightest, before sliding back down on his cock, you whimpered as he groaned, snug inside of you. In this position, the tip of his cock reached sensitive places you never knew existed. 

“You’re so warm,” He whispered, his eyes locked in place where he disappeared inside you each time you moved. Lust-drunk, both of you. You leaned in closer, cradling his head as he took one of your breasts into his mouth while his tail wrapped around the other. 

Crying out in overwhelming pleasure, you moved faster, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. 

His hand slipped between the two of you and he placed his palm against your abdomen. Your heart melted as you remembered the dream you just had. You cupped his face and he released your nipple to look up at you. Nothing needed to be said, the sincerity and adoration in his eyes spoke volumes. You leaned in for a soft kiss, moaning against his lips as his hand circled around your waist and he pulled your warm body closer to his. 

He felt warm from deep within. Warmth he had never felt before. Your lips brushed against his each time you moved up and down his cock. He mostly let you set the pace and he took whatever you gave him, only guiding you up and down his cock when you needed him to. 

You pulled away, bouncing on his cock as you stared into his pretty eyes. He whispered gently about how perfect you felt around him, wet and warm all for him. He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “You’re mine,” He whispered. 

“And you’re mine.” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him. 

He came right after you, his warm release filling you up once again as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your warm body closer to him. “I’m gonna take care of you.” He promised.  

You smiled, pulling away to look into his eyes. “You’ll never be lonely again. I promise.” You sealed your promise with a kiss on his forehead and he couldn’t have smiled any bigger. 

“Do you have to go and bring back all your belongings?” You asked, kissing down his face until you could nuzzle his chest. Secretly not wanting him to leave even for just a minute. 

“I don’t have any. All I have is the crown and cloak you gave me.” Something about that made you tear up as you looked up at him. He smiled at you, pulling you closer. 

You sniffled, snuggling closer to him. “I'll make you a drawer full of clothes and cloaks. Some pants too. Maybe even a hat or two for when it gets cold.” 

He laughed, kissing the top of your head. No one had ever cared for him this much, let alone a fraction of this. And in that moment he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, and the family that you two would have soon. “I’ll love you till the end of time, little witch.” 

“And I you, demon.” You wrapped yourself around him, placing your ear right above where you thought his heart would be. In the middle of his chest and there it was, his steady and strong heartbeat. 

— 

Part 2  (just in case you wanna read more about these two)

[cherriegyuu]

in which you tell mingyu about a movie you watched as kid.

pairing: mingyu x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 839 warnings: slightly suggestive, not nsfw

a/n: the movie mentioned is practical magic (yes, i'm old). this was not proofread

There’s no way I got this lucky, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t move your eyes from the bathroom door, where your boyfriend stood in nothing more than sweatpants that hung a little too low on his hips. His chest was exposed, arm flexed, as he ran a towel through his hair.

Really lucky.

In pure amazement, you watched as Mingyu tossed his towel inside the washing machine and turned it on. A second later he sat by your side. 

“When I was a kid I watched this movie with my sister, right?” you started.

Mingyu furrowed his eyebrows, a playful look in his eyes. 

“You really were a TV only kind of kid, weren’t you?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed. That was kind of a recurrent conversation with the two of you. Mingyu always made fun of you for watching too much TV and you mocked him with whatever embarrassing story his friends were willing to tell you whenever you met one of them. Seokmin was always one who seemed ready to share a different memory Mingyu would like to keep a secret.

“I was trying to have a moment with you, but you ruined it” 

Being as dramatic as you could, you sighed and stood up. Mingyu laughed loudly, pulling back down on his lap so you were straddling his thighs. He pulled you closer to him, your chest against his bare one, and rested his hands on your waist.

“Tell me about this movie” he all but whispered.

A small shiver disturbed your skin at the sound of his voice, because of how close he was to you. His eyes suddenly felt too intense. Still, you put your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the short strands of his hair. 

“When we were kids, there was this movie. These sisters were witches and did all sorts of spells” Mingyu was trying his best to hold in his laugh, pressing his lips together. You squished his cheeks together with one of your hands “You can’t laugh, this is serious”

Mingyu took a deep breath, swallowing his laugh. His hands moved back and forth over your body, from your waist to your hips to your ass, then back up again. It was really hard concentrating on what you wanted to say.

“I won’t laugh, I promise” he gave you a quick kiss on the lips and settled back against the couch. 

“Once, when they were kids, one of them did this sort of spell and it was her wish for a partner, husband, or whatever” your relationship was still quite new to just go throwing the words husband around but Mingyu didn’t seem to mind “From what they would look like to their personality. And we had quite similar lives, you know, sisters who were raised by their aunts. So we decided to try the spell. We were ten, so give us a break, okay?”

Slowly, Mingyu dropped kisses on your skin, from your eyes to your neck. 

“What did you wish for?”

You pulled on his hair, dragging his face away from your neck.

“Mingyu, focus” he nodded at you, a smirk on his lips “I wished for someone who would whistle my favorite song, who would be marvelously kind, who could flip pancakes in the air, whose favorite shape would be a star”

The first time you saw Mingyu, he was, indeed, humming your favorite song in that cute voice he always did — the poor man couldn’t whistle to save his life. He probably was the kindest person you ever came across in your entire life. The first time you spent the night at his place, you learned that he could flip pancakes and cook whatever weird idea you could come up with and still make it delicious. And he liked stars as much as the next person. 

“First, I asked for a tall man. This is a very important part of the spell. My sister didn’t wish for it. And now look at her, dating tiny Jihoon”

That drew a laugh out of Mingyu and he squeezed your waist.

“Then I asked for a man with a mole on the tip of his nose” you placed a feather like kiss on his nose, then on his temples “Someone with eyes that would wrinkle whenever he smiled too hard. And finally, someone with a vampire like smile”

He really tried to hold back his smile, but he just couldn’t. He pulled your face close to his, kissing you with all that he had. Although he never made a spell when he was a boy, you too were the kind of woman he had dreamed of.

“You are, quite literally, the man I wished for as a kid” suddenly Mingyu stood up with you in his arms. Out of reflex, you wrapped your legs around his waist “What are you doing

“I think we should go to the bedroom and be really, really, quiet because Seokmin is bound to get home at any second now”

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[devieuls]

ˋ One more time.

Mike Schmidt x Ex gf reader (one shot)

Synopsis : After five months of mysterious disappearance, a young woman returns to the life of her ex-boyfriend. As they both try to piece together the pieces of their past, they will face buried secrets, unresolved questions and the possibility of a future different from what they had imagined. But also a more intimate rapprochement

Warning : SMUT MDNI. Semi-"vanilla"

Lenght : 2.5 K

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

You returned to "home" with a sense of trepidation in your soul. The evening had fallen, and the cold winter air penetrated your bones as you approached the entrance to what was once your refuge, but now it seemed to you only an empty and impersonal place. The air was icy, the dark lighting cast disturbing shadows on the walls. You haven’t been back in months, and it just seemed so neglected and gray. As you walked through the door, you could feel the emptiness filling the room. The couple photos with Mike were gone, some small gifts for the house were placed on the third floor, almost hidden. You felt like a stranger in that house where once love and warmth overflowed from every pore. You started to wonder if maybe it was a mistake to come back, show up after you’d been gone for so long, but Abby ended up calling you and asking you to come back. You had hoped to find Mike in the living room, maybe sitting in the chair watching something on TV, but he didn’t. Just pizza boxes and empty drinks. You found yourself with a strangely heavy heart of pain that you had come to know all too well over the years.

"Y/n!" Abby’s voice made you smile slightly and you turned to her to lower yourself to her height and hug her gently, God, if you missed that little girl. "How are you, honey?" Your voice was warm and affectionate as you squeezed her, she started twisting you with information, not even giving you time to ask questions or ask her where Mike was. "Do you hear me?" she asked after a few minutes and you looked at her shaking your head, passing a hand through your hair and laughing awkwardly. "Yes, I listen to you… it’s that-" before you could finish talking she look at you with the look of someone who had already understood too much for her young age. "He’s out. I’m talking, you know he got a new job? But it’s at night, and I have to hang out with that obnoxious Max. Remember? Here, she is. "A little laugh came out of your lips and then you hear footsteps behind you. You noticed a beautiful blonde in a police uniform when you turned around, beautiful blue eyes, a perfect face, and she looked like she came out of one of those model magazines. Then you noticed Mike and a knot formed in your throat. The first thing you thought was that she was his new girlfriend, otherwise why were they smiling until just before? Why that closeness? Why did he seem so relaxed in his presence? The saliva was now bitter and your breath became more irregular, getting up from the ground and taking laborsa that you had dropped to embrace Abby. Mike had a similar reaction, unable to look away from your figure. "Mike, she’s back! Y/n!" Abby began with a sunny voice, while that blonde smiled back at her as if she knew her and was happy for her. Did she think you were some kind of old babysitter? A new friend? Because it seemed like within those months your person had been cut off from that world that once belonged to you as much as they did. "Y/N.." He started, but you passed the gaze from him to the blonde and vice versa. "umh… I'm… Abby, I’ll visit you another day. Excuse me" you whispered, leaving your house key on a bedside table. You passed the beautiful blondie and Mike, being swept away by the icy winter wind that somehow seemed warmer now. Quick steps followed you from behind, and you could tell that it was Mike following you, surely looking for the right words to address you.

"Y/n… Y/n wait!" You pretended not to hear, but it was useless when he grabbed you by the wrist, stopping you on the spot and forcing you to look him right in the eye. Mike’s eyes were heavy, tired, which you also said from his dark eyes and the look on his face. "Let me go Mike…" you muttered quietly, tugging your arm. And that’s when you really realized you weren’t ready to face him again, not after the time you spent in total coldness in the final part of your relationship, not after you ran away from him for some bullshit. "We need to talk" "No. We don’t have to do anything… it was a mistake to come back. Tell Abby I’m sorry, I-I have to go." Mike pulled you even closer to him and looked you in the eye, bending your face to the side. "At least tell me why you left… come back here like nothing happened, look at me like I’m a piece of shit and walk away" "I didn’t look at you like you were a piece of shit." "You did. You looked at me, then Vanessa and-" "Vanessa, huh" you couldn’t help yourself and he looked at you confused. Moments later, he seemed to understand, and you waited for him to set you straight, not deserve it. He owed you nothing, he was allowed to move on with his life. After all he was young, she was beautiful and certainly would not have waited for his ex-girlfriend with anger and depression problems. "Listen. Let me go. I was wrong to come back, you certainly did not expect me to come back and that’s fine. Come back from… Vanessa" Her name looked so dirty coming out of your lips. "Y/n, Vanessa is a friend" "So you said of me" "She really is… Listen, I was out with her for work." "Is that what you say now? 'Work'" your voice was clearly ironic, and that hurt him. "God, Y/n. is really work… In the place where I work some people broke in e-" "You don’t have to explain anything to me, Mike." His look almost seemed sorry. You felt silly. It was you in the wrong, you had run away, you had ruined your relationship, you had been a bitch that night blaming your couple problems on his trauma with the brother. But now you were making that wound, the one they shouldn’t blame. "No. Holy shit Y/n you disappeared for 5 months and now you come back as nothing. You lecture me and make me feel like an asshole again. You don’t tell me where you’ve been, you haven’t even called me in months, let alone answered my calls. What’s your problem?" His gaze hung over yours, burning your irises until you felt cold chills down the back. He was right…

"I was gone." you whispered, looking down. "Gone? Gone where? All those months? Abby was asking me about you," he replied disappointed and incredulous. "I know… I’m sorry" "I was worried about you, I thought you were dead. I even called the police." "I’m sorry, I know" "Abby spent months crying for you. She started hating Max because she didn’t want her to babysit." "I know it" "Stop saying you know, don’t say it. you don’t. If you knew you would have come back. You would have contacted us, you would have called or written." "I’m sorry, okay? I needed a break." The exchange of jokes between you seemed to get colder and more detached, as if you two were accusing each other of who knows what, but never going straight to the point.

You don’t know exactly how they got you to stay with Abby while Mike was working. You knew you were in the kitchen cooking mac and cheese for dinner like the five months before never happened. Abby would tell you about Mike, and then Vanessa, her imaginary friends, and her school. You took care of her all night, and you deluded yourself that you were back where you were waiting for Mike at home and then you were all sleeping together. But you knew it was just an illusion. You read some stories to Abby and she quickly fell asleep. You allowed yourself a few minutes to wander around the house, noticing the slight change. You went into your room, no, not anymore. You walked into Mike’s room and you noticed the slight clutter, the piles of clothes, the messy desk, the practically half-empty closet, the bedding, and the smell of closed. You noticed the poster on the ceiling was gone. God knows how long you tried to get him to come back, and you recklessly blamed that Vanessa for that change. You went back to the living room and fell asleep in front of the television, too tired to visit other rooms or tidy up. At 6:45 in the morning, Mike came home, and he woke you up because of the door he accidentally slammed. You wrinkled your eyes and yawned before you got off the couch. You noticed the boy in front of you, he was visibly tired and had a bandage on his arm. Before you could even mention the wound, Vanessa came into the house and returned him a black gilet. You sighed and made to leave right after Vanessa. Mike stopped you and looked at you.

"Abby is still sleeping, I should go" whispered with kneaded voice from sleep "You can stay… please, stay. Abby would be happy to have you for breakfast" his voice was as sweet as it used to be. He was always sweet, he wasn’t the kind of guy with an aggressive or sour tone, he wasn’t you. "No, I should leave now… really." You turned to leave and your hands touched. You missed a breath, you turned slightly and bit your lip slightly. You sought within yourself the strength to leave, but its smell was now pressing against your nostrils. His free hand went to rest on the side of your neck, making you approach him. Your noses grazed, your breaths harmonized for the same speed and depth in which they took breath of air. You looked at her lips and wanted to try them again. "I have to go…Mike" you whispered, trying to put a brake on everything before you crashed into the same loop again. "Yes… you must go" he said quietly, not letting you go. You sighed and after a few seconds, your lips were within inches of each other, but you were still trying to resist desperately. You couldn’t, you didn’t have to kiss again, you didn’t have to go back to the cycle. Not after you put a stitch.

Mike now held your face with both hands, caressing your soft skin lightly and gently, longingly, just as he did long ago. Your eyes became more and more intense, with eyes drowning in each other. After a brief moment of hesitation, the resistance gave way and your faces slowly approached. Your lips brushed lightly at first, but soon the kiss turned into an overwhelming passion. His hands began to explore the contours of your body, as the clothes were removed with a growing desire. The kiss was consuming the lips of both of them, as the room warmed more and more as the clothes were taken off, your breaths that now seemed uneven because of the heat that had kidnapped both. Mike didn’t hesitate to take you by the thighs and get up to lean on the table, his lips went down your neck with speed and desire. His nimble hands had already left you half-naked, he took off your panties quickly, slipping two fingers into your already soaked intimacy. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth to leave a groan that he was about to choke with his free hand. "Abby will wake up soon, don’t let us hear" he mumbled, as he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. You whined silently, looking at the ceiling as you begged for restraint and that sweet little girl to stay and sleep in her warm crib. You didn’t notice right away when Mike came inside you with his hard erection, you were busy looking at the ceiling and holding back the desperate moans. Your lips met again as the pressures intensified and became increasingly bumpy, rough, almost animal. His fingers ended up digging into your hips, holding you to him as he took back what was his. He broke away from the kiss, not giving you time to realize the situation, starting to mark your body. You sighed heavily, your hips against him as much as you could. You bit your lip as you whimpered for more, and he fulfilled that little silent wish, making it deeper and a little slower, as if to make you feel every inch of him rubbing against your walls. You could feel the vein of his muscle pulsating inside you as the strokes became so damn satisfying, albeit exasperating. Your eyes rolled backwards, feeling closer and closer to orgasm. You were sure you were coming, your hands were tight around her bicep panting in a low voice, trembling slightly for pleasure. He grunted in a low voice, enjoying as much as you for that newfound intimacy, you could hear how he hit your weakest point as if he had never stopped cheating in those 5 months of absence, remembering where you liked and how you liked.

"Mike… Mike, is breakfast ready?" Abby’s sleepy voice was heard above the stairs. You cursed yourself for not praying more intensely for his sleep. Mike came out of you, putting his sore erection back into his sweatpants and black boxers. I recovered your pants and panties and passed them to you, hoping to block Abby before she got into the kitchen. You put your clothes on with an unheard of speed, slightly puffing for the missed orgasm. You felt discomfort between your legs, you knew you were close and your body made you weigh it now. Your swollen clitoris palpated between your legs. You rubbed his thighs, hoping to ease the pain, and you sat in the chair, pretending a few seconds before you weren’t getting fucked on the dining table. "Not yet… emh… now I’m going to make it, go brush your teeth" Mike replied to his sister, gently pushing her down the stairs, sending her to the bathroom to brush her teeth. He turned to you with a sorry expression. "Don’t worry" you calmed him down, as he couldn’t help but notice his erection in his pants, and feel slightly mouth-watering. " We’re in this together, right?" "Definitely," he replied, putting his hand through his hair, then going into the kitchen, trying to calm down.

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Notes:

Not exactly my thing, but something to start with. I didn’t want to start with a too heavy smut but I definitely will in the next one shot of the other characters.

-Mel

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (Part 2) - Kaz Brekker x reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 5.5k

notes: please let me know what you think <3

Finally, a couple of days later, Inej arrived in Ketterdam. Kaz waited for her at the harbor, hoping she would throw herself into his arms and that he could finally hug her tightly. Instead, their greetings were far more reserved, though her wide smile still managed to warm him up in seconds.

She had many people to see, so they didn’t have the chance to be alone until late at night. When they finally had a moment together, they settled on his couch to watch a movie. Kaz desperately wanted to show her the progress he had made, but he felt a familiar sense of hesitation.

After battling with himself, he finally removed his gloves, meeting her surprised gaze as he slowly reached for her hand. Inej's eyes lit up, and Kaz couldn't suppress a small, satisfied smile.

During those days, they managed to stay closer than they had ever been before. Inej divided her time between her place and his, and their evenings together became a cherished routine.

One night, they watched the Masterchef finale on his bed. Inej lay with her head in his lap, and Kaz gently caressed her hair. y/n had been right— Inej was loving it. Kaz didn’t think much about y/n, except occasionally when he caught her Instagram stories. He had considered writing to her to comment on the winner of the cooking competition, as they had both been rooting for the same contestant. Kaz had his phone in his hand, while the other was scratching Inej’s head. She made a satisfied hum, closing her eyes, distracting Kaz from his thoughts about y/n. He tossed the phone away, focusing entirely on Inej.

A few days later, Kaz received a notification of a picture from y/n. It was a photo of different shades of nail polishes. He chuckled, circled the one he liked, and sent the picture back. “What’s that smile?” Inej asked, surprised, from the other side of the table where they were having lunch.

“Jesper sent a stupid thing,” Kaz lied effortlessly, though not without a pang of guilt. He felt a momentary sense of relief that Inej hadn't probed further, but the guilt lingered, gnawing at the edges of his contentment.

Kaz couldn't escape the irony of his situation. Here he was, trying to overcome his touch aversion with a prostitute, someone paid to be physically close to him, while desperately wanting to be intimate with Inej, who was going around the world saving girls from being sold as prostitutes. The contradiction gnawed at him, twisting his gut every time he thought about it. How could he reconcile these two opposing realities?

Inej had dedicated her life to freeing those trapped in the same circumstances that had led Kaz to y/n. She was a beacon of hope, a relentless force for good, while Kaz's actions seemed to undercut everything she stood for. The more he pondered this, the deeper his guilt grew. It wasn't just about the physical interactions with y/n; it was about what those interactions represented. He was using someone else to cope with his trauma, someone who might have been in a position similar to the girls Inej fought so hard to save.

Kaz found himself replaying his conversations with y/n. She had been understanding, patient, even kind. They had laughed together, and she had helped him in ways he hadn't thought possible. Yet every time he saw Inej's face, radiant with purpose and conviction, he felt like a fraud. How could he face her, knowing the truth?

***

Inej found out about the chocolate and wine tasting thing and thought it would be hilarious to go to make fun of the people there. They were enjoying the experience, their laughter a shared secret, when he spotted y/n entering the restaurant, her arm wrapped around a guy. It was the same guy from the club—the one she had said she stopped seeing because they weren't compatible.

As she scanned the room, y/n's eyes locked with Kaz's. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hoping she wouldn’t approach. But she did, her face a mix of shock and recognition. She made her way to their table, her expression quickly morphing into an enthusiastic smile.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, I'm such a fan! I watch all of your TikToks," she said to Inej, her voice bright and sincere.

Inej stood up, her smile as warm as ever. "Thank you! It's always nice to meet a fan," she replied, extending her hand.

They chatted for a bit, with y/n telling Inej how her videos had inspired her to take up pilates, which was only half-true. y/n had actually taken up the sport because, as she had once humorously told Kaz, a client had requested an intricate position, that she accurately acted out for him, that resulted in her pulling a few muscles, forcing her to stay in bed for days.

"Can you take a picture of us?" y/n asked, handing her phone to Kaz. His heart pounded as he took the phone, trying to maintain a neutral expression. As he snapped the photo, his eyes fell on y/n’s hand resting on Inej’s shoulder, her nails painted the color he had chosen. It took all his self-control not to react.

"There you are, always running around with this one," said the guy, approaching them and wrapping his arm around y/n’s waist. "Baby, that's Inej Ghafa!"

"Oh right, the girl you yap about all day?" he laughed, pulling her close.

"I don't yap," she pouted playfully.

"Sure you don't," he said, kissing her pout.

Kaz couldn’t figure out what he was feeling. He wondered how much time they were spending together and didn't like how carelessly the guy was able to kiss her. He wondered if she still tasted like cherries.

"I'm sorry for the interruption," y/n said, pulling away from the kiss. "It was really nice to meet you, Inej."

They walked back to their table, the guy's hand slipping from her waist to rest on her ass, guiding her to her seat. Kaz's jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away. The rest of the evening was uneventful, and fortunately, y/n and her companion were out of his sight.

As Kaz and Inej returned to their conversation, his thoughts kept drifting back to y/n. The guilt gnawed at him, and he couldn't help but wonder how Inej would react if she knew the truth. Would she understand his reasons, or would she see it as a betrayal? The irony of his situation was inescapable—trying to overcome his touch aversion with a prostitute, while being with someone who fought against the very thing he was exploiting.

***

A few days later, Inej had to leave again, promising to return in a few months. Kaz stood at the harbor, watching her ship prepare to depart. He managed to brush his lips against hers for the briefest moment, and she smiled widely at him, her eyes full of warmth and promise. That smile stayed with him, a bittersweet memory as he watched the ship sail away.

Each time Inej left, Kaz felt an embarrassingly deep sense of loss, a hollowness that settled in his chest. Jesper, ever the loyal friend, had to break into his house just to convince him to show up at work. It had become a routine, a cycle of anticipation, brief happiness, and then the inevitable slump into solitude.

During the weeks Inej had been with him, Kaz had experienced a closeness he hadn't thought possible. They had shared quiet moments on his couch, watched movies, and even engaged in playful banter about the contestants on Masterchef. It was during those moments, when he held her hand without gloves or caressed her hair as she rested her head in his lap, that he realized just how far he had come. But it also made him think about all the things he still wanted to try, the progress he wanted to make.

The weeks with Inej had stirred something in him, a desire to push further, to explore more. He wanted to test the boundaries of his progress, to see if he could translate the tentative intimacy he had shared with Inej into something more confident. So, he decided to book y/n for the first free time she had.

***

“Hello, lovebird,” she smirked as she opened the door, making him enter her room. “How was girlfriend-time?”

Kaz rolled his eyes at the nickname but couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips. “Fine.”

“Anything interesting to tell?” she asked, sitting on the bed and patting the space next to her. Kaz hesitated for a moment before joining her.

“Well, uh, I held her hand, scratched her head like you suggested, thanks for that. And we kissed.” He felt a bit guilty discussing these intimate moments so casually, as if they were just part of his homework.

Her eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Let's talk about this kiss,” she said, leaning in closer. Out of habit, she climbed onto his lap, her arms bare and exposed. Kaz hesitated, unsure of where to place his hands, before slowly resting them on her covered thighs.

“Well, it was fast and light,” he admitted, feeling the familiar awkwardness settle in.

“Don't minimize it, Kaz! It's wonderful! Bet you got all sorts of ideas,” she grinned, nudging his nose with hers playfully.

“Kind of,” he laughed nervously, the warmth of her proximity making him slightly more at ease.

“So? What do you want to do next?” she asked, her voice softening as she sensed his unease.

“I was thinking of sticking with making kisses bearable, and then, since summer is coming, it’s time for more skin exposure.” It still felt strange to talk about these things as if they were just mechanical actions, devoid of the emotional weight they carried.

“Rock my world, Brekker,” y/n murmured as she rested her head on his bicep. The position was perfect for a kiss, her head angled just right. Kaz leaned in, brushing their lips together. He repeated the motion several times, leaning in, pulling back, lingering a second longer each time.

"You're cute when you're focused," she commented, making him shake his head and laugh nervously. Kaz could feel her breath on his mouth, and it felt oddly normal. He wanted to deepen the kiss but felt embarrassed, so he moved to her cheek instead.

“Can you… can you kiss… me?” he stammered, feeling the prolonged contact start to make him dizzy. They swapped positions, and Kaz found himself resting his head on her lap. “Stop me whenever you want,” she said before kissing his forehead.

Kaz released a shaky breath, nothing ever feeling better than that small kiss. y/n continued, leaving a trail of tender kisses around his face. “This is so sweet I could cry,” she whispered at a certain point.

“Please don’t,” he laughed, blushing.

He felt particularly good, encouraged by everything he had managed to do with Inej and ready to push his boundaries further. y/n passed her hand through his neatly combed hair, raising his head to kiss the corner of his lips. Kaz felt the familiar anxiety rise, but his starved body craved more, so he didn’t move. He stood still as she kissed his full lips, but he stopped her hand before she could cup his face.

Kaz held her hand to his chest as if it were as his life depended on it while she urged him to deepen the kiss. He forced himself to let her in, feeling her tongue searching for his. His body tensed, but she murmured against his lips, “Breathe, Kaz.”

He took her advice, trying to steady himself. When their tongues touched, he felt a wave of nausea, but she was quick, distracting him with her hand still in his hair. y/n kept teasing him, never fully kissing him. His body was torn between fear and newfound desire. At some point, he couldn't take it anymore. Kaz tangled his hands into her hair and pulled her in for a deep kiss. He let himself feel their tongues sliding against each other. In that moment, the entire building could go up in flames and he would have preferred staying there, burning alive, instead of leaving her mouth. Her cherry lip balm was intoxicating. 

He felt her hands on his chest and cursed himself for not being able to telepathically tell her to let her hands slip to his neck and pull him closer. The kiss went on, and he was unable to let go, feeling as though he could drown but nothing bad would happen as long as her lips were on his. A small moan escaped her mouth, and Kaz was pulled back into reality so violently that he had to get up.

He grounded himself by pacing around, releasing heavy breaths. “That… was a great kiss,” she commented, nodding. Kaz was unsure if she was talking to him or to herself. 

Kaz stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, trying to regain his composure. The intensity of the kiss had left him shaken but also strangely satisfied. He looked at y/n, who was still sitting on the bed, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss. He couldn’t help but wonder what Inej would think of all this, but he pushed the thought aside, focusing on the progress he had made.

Only in that moment did Kaz realize how his body had reacted to the kiss, feeling his face change shade with embarrassment. “Well, must've been good even for you,” y/n remarked, letting her eyes linger on him. “Come on, there's no need to be ashamed. It's natural,” she shrugged, offering a reassuring smile.

“I'm not... uhm, used to this,” Kaz admitted, sitting in a chair far from her and avoiding her gaze.

“I am, so don't worry, lov— Kaz,” she corrected herself, sensing his discomfort.

He continued to blush, silently praying for his body to calm down. “We have some more time, can we just... talk?” he asked, trying to shift the focus away from the lingering awkwardness.

The girl nodded, seeming relaxed as she settled back into the chair. “So, you're back with that guy?” Kaz asked casually, hoping to steer the conversation into more neutral territory.

She wrinkled her nose. “I just wanted to eat chocolate, drink wine, and have sex,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, he couldn't make me come even if his life depended on it, but his—”

Kaz interrupted her quickly, feeling uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. “y/n, oversharing,” he remarked with a hint of exasperation.

“Sorry, sorry,” she snorted, realizing her misstep.

“Why do you keep going out with him?”

“Not everyone finds the love of their life on the first try, Kaz,” she replied with a shrug. “Some of us have to go on bad dates and have bad sex.”

Kaz never explicitly thought of Inej as the love of his life, but he had never entertained thoughts about anyone else either. The idea of her potentially leaving him someday made his stomach sink, a feeling he wasn't accustomed to.

“See you Wednesday?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the knot in his stomach.

“I haven't told you? A client is taking me away for a week,” she replied, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “He has, like, a lawyer conference or something. Can't fucking wait. Five-star hotel and all. He's promised me spa treatments, fancy dinners, and shopping. It's going to be awesome.”

Kaz studied her smile, suddenly realizing that she probably had some form of relationship not just with him, but with other clients as well. The thought unsettled him deeply, stirring a mix of jealousy and discomfort he hadn't anticipated. He couldn't shake the image of her with other men, indulging in luxurious trips and intimate moments, all while maintaining a professional demeanor.

Deciding it was time to go, he stood up abruptly. His mind was racing with conflicted thoughts—feelings of possessiveness he hadn't known he harbored, mixed with a stark reminder that their interactions were transactional at their core. As he made his way to the door, he struggled to maintain his composure, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than intended.

***

Kaz kept watching her Instagram stories, each post depicting scenes of luxury and leisure—tanning by a pool, sipping cocktails at parties, early morning runs at sunrise, and romantic beach strolls at sunset. It baffled him why he felt such a surge of anger. They didn't know each other well; she never shared personal details. Yet, there he was, on a lonely Sunday night, a bottle of alcohol his only companion, staring at another picture of her in a stunning dress against a breathtaking backdrop.

The alcohol only fueled his frustration. How could she just leave, especially when he felt they were making progress? In a moment of impulse, he opened his banking app and took a screenshot of a money transfer ready to be confirmed—3000 kruge. 'Come back?' he typed beneath the screenshot, hesitating momentarily before hitting send.

The next morning, the hangover hit him hard, along with the realization of what he had done. Regret flooded in as he replayed the scene in his mind. Sending money felt like a desperate move, one that exposed his vulnerability more than he was comfortable admitting.

Throughout the day, he constantly checked his phone, hoping for a response that didn't come. He cursed himself for acting on impulse, for letting his emotions drive him to such a reckless gesture. Deep down, he knew it wasn't about the money—it was about wanting her presence, her company, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.

As the day wore on, he wrestled with conflicting emotions—anger at himself for being so impulsive, frustration at her for leaving without a word, and a gnawing sense of loneliness that seemed to deepen with each passing hour. 

***

Kaz sat in his car beneath her apartment building, grappling with embarrassment over his drunken text. He stared at the glowing screen of his phone, contemplating whether to turn the car around and head home. He knew he should, but something pushed him to go upstairs despite the awkwardness he felt. His injured leg throbbed uncomfortably with each step, almost as if it, too, protested the decision.

Entering her apartment, Kaz settled onto the familiar couch, listening to the sounds emanating from y/n's room until it was his turn. As they settled on her bed, y/n kept her arms crossed, her expression expectant, while Kaz avoided meeting her gaze.

"Kaz, what was that?" she finally asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

"y/n, I don't know. I was drunk and..." He trailed off, unsure how to justify his actions when even he didn't fully understand them.

"Kaz, if you're catching feelings for me..." she started, but he cut her off firmly.

"I'm not," he asserted, though his words rang hollow in his own ears.

Her gaze softened, and she reached out, her hand finding his. "If that's the case, you shouldn't be embarrassed. What we're doing is... intimate and sweet. It would be normal to mistake it for something more."

"I'm not doing anything, just a drunk text," Kaz repeated, the words feeling inadequate even as he said them.

"If you ever do, you have to let me know," she said softly, her thumb brushing against his hand. "You gave me your first proper kiss, Kaz. It's normal to be confused."

"I'm doing this for my girlfriend, who I love very much," he replied hastily, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

"I know, but if it makes you uncomfortable, we shouldn't see each other anymore," she replied, her voice tinged with understanding.

They spent the next hour making out, Kaz finding it difficult to let go of y/n's hair. He wanted to explore more, but it all felt too overwhelming. y/n tried to touch his arms and chest, but he had to stop her before it became too much. He managed to leave a few chaste kisses on her neck, but when she tried to reciprocate, he almost lost control, so they focused on their lips and faces.

y/n shamelessly moaned into his mouth, and even Kaz couldn't help but let a few sounds escape his lips. Just as the intensity between them peaked, a hard knock on the door made them spring apart, the first time they had done so in many minutes.

"y/n, you're late!" one of her roommates protested from outside, breaking the charged atmosphere.

They looked at each other with wide eyes, suddenly aware of the time. Kaz checked his phone and realized he was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago. A nervous laugh escaped them both, neither daring to meet the other's gaze.

"I should go," Kaz finally said, shifting uncomfortably and avoiding eye contact. "I think I need a minute," he added, his face flushing with embarrassment while y/n smirked, a hint of satisfaction in her expression.

Kaz insisted on leaving extra money for the additional time they had spent together. "There's no need to, we got carried away," y/n protested, but Kaz was resolute.

"Does this happen often?" he asked curiously, a cocky smile playing on his lips.

"No," she admitted quietly.

"Then take these," Kaz said firmly, leaving the money on her desk before swiftly exiting the apartment, the weight of their encounter heavy on his mind as he made his way back to his car.

Kaz entered the Crow Club, his mind heavy with the events of the previous hour. "You are so late, Brekker," Jesper commented, raising an eyebrow. "I had to say you had the flu."

Kaz shrugged, collapsing into the chair next to him. "Where were you?" Jesper pressed, a suspicious edge to his voice.

"I had stuff to do," Kaz replied casually, pulling out his phone to reply to the messages from Inej that had accumulated throughout the day.

Jesper leaned in, sniffing the air. "Why do you smell of cherries?" he asked, his nose crinkling as he leaned closer.

Kaz shoved him away, hoping to sound convincing. "I don’t smell of cherries. What the fuck?"

Jesper narrowed his eyes, not easily fooled. "Are you cheating on Inej?" he asked abruptly, his tone sharper than usual.

Kaz's heart skipped a beat. "What? Jesper, come on. I can’t even touch people," he said, avoiding Jesper's gaze.

Jesper hummed, skepticism clear in his expression. "You’re weird, man. I’m telling you. And you've been acting stranger than usual lately," he added, his eyes searching Kaz's face for any signs of deceit. "Your clothes, they don't look like you've been working. More like you've been... elsewhere."

Kaz shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I had things to take care of. It's not what you think."

Jesper's eyes narrowed further. "And what am I supposed to think, Kaz? You're disappearing for hours, coming back smelling like cherries, and acting all shifty. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were up to something."

Kaz's mind raced, trying to find a plausible explanation that would satisfy Jesper's growing suspicion. "It's complicated, Jesper. Just trust me."

Jesper crossed his arms, not letting it go. "Complicated how? You're not giving me much to trust here. You owe me more than just 'stuff to do.'"

Kaz clenched his jaw, feeling the pressure of Jesper's scrutiny. "I'm handling things, okay? Personal things. It's nothing you need to worry about."

Jesper's eyes stayed locked on Kaz, clearly not convinced. "Personal things, huh? Well, I hope for your sake, and Inej's, that whatever you're doing is worth all this secrecy. Because if it blows up in your face, don't say I didn't warn you."

Kaz sighed, the weight of Jesper's suspicions adding to his already heavy burden. "Noted, Jesper. Noted."

Jesper watched him for a moment longer before shaking his head and walking away, leaving Kaz to his thoughts. The encounter left Kaz feeling even more unsettled, the realization that he was not only lying to himself but also to his closest friends gnawing at him. He needed to get a grip on his emotions and focus, before everything he was working for crumbled around him.

***

He didn't see her at the Crow Club on Friday night, and it made him restless. He had seen from her Instagram stories that she was heading out. Did he hope she would show up at his club? Maybe. Was he glaring at the entrance, waiting for her? Absolutely.

As he changed spots, he saw that she posted another story. It took all his strength to wait a few minutes before looking at it. She was tagging the Emerald Palace. The only things preventing Kaz from throwing his phone against the wall were the facts that he was in public and that his phone was already hanging on for dear life.

He decided to turn his phone off for the night, and probably for the next 24 hours. If anything in her stories suggested that Pekka Rollins was her client, he knew he would lose it completely. A drunk text begging her to come back would be nothing compared to what he might do.

As Kaz tried to focus on his work, his thoughts kept drifting back to y/n. He wondered if she thought about him at all during her time with other clients. He hated how possessive he felt, knowing that he was just one of many in her life. He couldn't stand the idea of her being with Pekka Rollins. The thought of her in his arms made his blood boil.

Kaz replayed their conversations in his mind, trying to understand his feelings. He knew he was doing this for Inej, to be able to touch her and be with her without fear. But every time he thought about y/n, it felt more complicated. He didn't want to admit it, but there was a part of him that enjoyed their time together, that looked forward to it. The intimacy they shared, even if it was paid for, was something he had never experienced before.

The next night, Kaz found himself distracted at the Crow Club again. He couldn't help but check his phone, even though he had promised himself he wouldn't. When he saw no new notifications from y/n, he felt a mix of relief and disappointment. He knew he shouldn't care so much, but he did. He needed to keep his emotions in check, for Inej's sake and for his own sanity.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the tasks at hand. There were deals to be made, plans to be executed. But even as he immersed himself in work, a part of him remained tethered to the thought of y/n, wondering what she was doing and if she thought about him at all.

***

Kaz and y/n were on her bed, as usual. She was wearing only a bra and panties, and he was trying to let his bare hands wander around her body. He managed to touch her arms comfortably enough, but any other place still made him flinch. They were talking about the latest episode of a show he had made her watch. Well, he had annoyed her so much that she finally gave in and started it. He had tried the same with Inej, but his girlfriend had dropped it after the pilot.

“Kaz, you’re tickling me,” she laughed, trying to squirm away.

“Oh, am I?” he teased, pushing his boundaries only for the sake of making her contort and laugh.

“Please, Kaz, I can’t breathe,” she kept trying to escape him, but apparently, his demons could stay at bay if it meant annoying her. Kaz kept tickling everywhere he could reach, pulling her back against him when she managed to get too far away.

“Safe word, safe word,” she screamed playfully, and he finally stopped. They were both shifting like fools, with Kaz almost pinning her in a corner between the wall and the bed. He was on his knees, his bad leg screaming at him, while she was on her back, half-seated, half-lying down. One of his hands was still on her hip. He squeezed it softly, as if trying to test his boundaries even more.

They were both catching their breaths, and Kaz did everything he could to keep his eyes on hers, without letting them wander over her exposed body.

“You can look if you want,” she said, as if reading his thoughts, batting her lashes and shifting position to lie down better.

“I don’t want to—”

“To what? Make me uncomfortable? I’m a whore, Kaz.”

He didn’t want to do it, but in the end, he was just a man. Kaz let his gaze study her curves, which until that day he had tried so desperately to ignore. He felt a strange mix of guilt and curiosity. His eyes traced the lines of her body, lingering on the soft rise and fall of her chest, the gentle curve of her waist. He couldn’t deny the attraction, the pull he felt towards her, and it unnerved him.

His thoughts raced. What was he doing here? Was this really just about getting comfortable with physical contact for Inej’s sake, or was there something more? He had always prided himself on his control, his ability to stay detached and focused. But here, with y/n, he felt that control slipping away. Was it the intimacy they shared, or was it simply the fact that she saw him, really saw him, in a way that no one else did?

As he continued to study her, he felt a pang of guilt. Inej was the one he loved, the one he was doing all of this for. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was betraying her somehow, even though there was nothing truly romantic between him and y/n. It was confusing, and Kaz hated feeling confused. He was used to having a plan, a clear path, and this situation was anything but clear.

Her allusive smile drew him back to the present. She seemed to sense his internal struggle, and instead of pushing him, she just lay there, allowing him to take his time. He appreciated that about her, the way she seemed to understand without needing an explanation.

His hand was still firmly on her waist, and y/n raised a foot, getting it close to his face. He chuckled, trying to grip her ankle, but she kept pulling away. After a few tries, his leg decided to give up, and a sharp pain made him hiss and lose his balance, falling on her.

Kaz could feel her breasts pressed against his chest. He became painfully aware of how much skin was touching him, and he silently thanked Ghezen that he was still clothed. y/n saw him pale. “Kaz, it’s okay. It’s just us.”

The word “us” made him feel worse than her skin. For a second, his gaze fell on her lips. What did “us” even mean in this context? They weren’t a couple, and yet there was an undeniable bond between them. Did that make him unfaithful? Or was this just part of the process, a necessary step on his journey to being with Inej in the way he wanted?

“Great kiss moment,” she assured him, uncertain if he was about to throw up or skip that step and die directly on her.

Surprising both of them, he leaned in, leaving a small kiss on her lips before raising himself up from her body. He sat back, his breathing uneven, and rubbed his aching leg absentmindedly.

She watched him carefully, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. “Kaz, you’re making a lot of progress. You should be proud of yourself.”

He nodded, but the turmoil inside him was far from settled. The lines between his goals, his feelings for Inej, and his unexpected attachment to y/n were blurring, and he didn’t know how to navigate them. “Thanks,” he muttered, looking away.

Kaz hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I wanted to ask you to try something, but I get it if you say no, it’s weird," he began.

"Tell me," she shrugged curiously, her gaze fixed on him.

Kaz exhaled deeply, bracing himself for the impending embarrassment. "With Inej, we never share a bed. I usually sleep on the couch when she’s at my place, and I wanted to—"

"Sleep with me?" she cut him off, her eyebrows raising slightly.

He nodded silently, watching her reaction closely.

y/n considered it for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "It’s a bit weird," she agreed after a pause, "but I’ve done weirder shit for sure."

"Are you sure you’d be okay with it?" Kaz asked cautiously.

"Yeah, say when," she replied casually, with a hint of a smile.