#the mundane speaks : 「 ooc 」

[willowswriting]

Muse⇥ Louis Piquet, 21-28, He/Him, Bisexual, Underground Fighter/Dealer. Connection ⇥ Boyfriend Plot ⇥ Louis shows up at Tanner's door bruised and beaten. He claims they're from the fight he had tonight, which he never attended, but they're actually from some guys that he owes money to. Open To ⇥ @musicallyiinclined.

"Would you stop looking at me like that." Louis spoke as he held the towel wrapped ice pack that the hockey player had given him upon his arrival against the left side of his face "I already told you that I'm fine." he sighed. The sad part about the whole situation was that the fighter was fine. Any normal person might be a little shaken up after getting jumped in an empty parking lot but it was simply another day for him. He knew that it was long over due. He wasn't an idiot he knew how the way that the life he lived worked. He was constantly pushing boundaries and towing the line, admittedly he had always enjoyed the rush of it.

[dennisboobs]

i will say i am extremely glad we got the ghouls vs goblins back and forth in this podcast ep because it's SUCH a good look inside glenn and charlie's ideas/writing process, and it was. silly 😋

[weaselishmcdiesel]

I have 2 more four panel katnep comics I just need to digitalize ndnfngng I have a problem and it’s two idiot trolls

[sylvansoldier-a]

( wanting to come back, but worried that because I've been gone so long that no one would care & that people might be justifiably pissed at my absence. not sure which is worse. my anxiety hasn't been kind lately, along with a general inability to complete anything. I have at least six personal projects in progress, but with a 3× week commute, I'm just so tired of everything lately. it feels like I'm headed for some breaking point. )

[cr4yolaas]

for lovers who hesitate — tsukishima kei

synopsis: you find your old academic rival at your new job. every bone in your body says it’s fate, but everything else seems to be stopping you.

notes: puking cuz idk how i feel abt this one. i worked on this all thru out my trip and there was a lot of scrapping and rewriting and deleting the entire thing and rewriting it again, but i think this version is the best i could get it to. i <3 tsukishima kei

tags: fluff → angst → fluff, self-indulgent long fic, reader smokes, reader has trauma w/ their parents, mainly fem reader oriented but gn pronouns used, reader has self-destructive habits, themes of self-doubt from both, tsukishima is probably ooc, slow burn but not really, the most awkward love confession ever, mitski rdr x radiohead tsukishima (sorry), proofread but not really

tsukishima kei, for once, was at a loss for words.

there you stood beneath the bright green foliage, your face marred by the heatwaves of the sun and still all too familiar. he thought, for a moment, that he had the wrong person — you had taken on a rougher appearance, but his body, heart, and soul still recognized you. and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to speak to you.

where had the last decade gone?

he coughed into his fist and walked past you, feigning ignorance to your arrival. when you followed after him with a keycard of your own, he found himself flustered.

no words were exchanged. he was playing the silent game with you, although he quietly hoped you would say something first.

and thus, he continued his shift as usual, with the added oddity of you shadowing him alongside his boss. he just couldn’t find the proper words to place on his tongue, nor the right gestures to show that he did want to talk, he just didn’t know how to.

but truthfully, what was one supposed to say in such a situation?

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

you believed that tsukishima hated you. and you wouldn’t blame him.

when you applied for this job, you had no expectations going into it, save for the hope of a higher salary and a lighter load than your previous job. what you had not anticipated was to stand face to face with the man you swore to hate in your youth.

a sliver of hope embedded itself within you; an overwhelming desire to perhaps refurbish a long lost relationship had taken root. but when he looked away so persistently and spoke not a word to you, that sliver dissipated into meaningless sand.

you continued your work as best as possible. it was a routine job — set up the displays for the day, guide whatever visitors came around, and leave in the afternoon. but when a certain blonde was sneaking glances at you and somehow always in your vicinity, it proved to be easier said than done.

you were too afraid to admit that his presence was refreshing. that, in the midst of the mundane and borderline unhealthy cycle you had formulated within the past handful of years following graduation, he had proven to be an odd factor; he stood as a disruptor to the routine. it was unwelcome. and even still, you craved it and more.

tsukishima kei had always been a constant in your life. you just didn’t expect him to reappear so soon, so suddenly.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it was a wednesday. an uneventful shift had come to an end. and just as you rid yourself of your work attire, a verbal invitation to a work party was sent your way.

the prospect of it was almost laughable. you were under the impression that the body of employees in a museum would be too reserved to host parties such as this, and you were quickly proven otherwise. thus, you accepted instantly.

as soon as you sat down, you regretted it just as quickly.

the moon had just barely begun to hang bright in the sky, and yet the table was already full of drunken coworkers that you hadn’t seen before. loud chatter filled the room, as if this table was the only one in the establishment. it was overbearing.

before you could take even a sip of your drink, you excused yourself under the pretense of needing to use the restroom. instead, you escaped outside, the gentle breeze reestablishing your senses and reeling you back in.

he was also there.

“oh,” he exclaimed softly. his eyes drifted away from yours, the warmth of his cheeks illuminated by the dim lamp above. oh was the first word he had ever spoken to you since graduation. you nearly laughed.

“hello,” you offered quietly, still testing the waters of conversation. your gaze fell to his fingers, slim and cherry-kissed and blemished, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “um… i didn’t expect to see you here…?”

tsukishima laughed lightly at your tone, as if to conceal his own anxieties. “likewise.” he watched as you pulled out a cigarette, the stick meeting your lips like it were more than natural. “did you come all this way to stalk me? or to follow me? after all those years of silence?” he teased, although a tinge of bitterness dripped from his words.

you shook your head aggressively. “no, no, i just…” you bit at your lip for a moment before continuing. “i’m taking a break from my actual job. i needed to wind down before i return.”

tsukishima hummed at your response, evidently oblivious to your lie. he looked at you for a moment too long, his eyes grazing over each alteration and unfamiliar feature. he could not help but admire you in this light — the soft strings of moonlight in contrast with the neon signs glaring against your complexion painted an image he hadn’t seen in ages.

for the first time in a long time, tsukishima kei thought you were unbearably pretty.

what he didn’t catch wind of was your nervous shuffles and your incessant skin-picking as you stood beside him. he didn’t realize that the cigarette was a distractor, a tool to pull you back in. and he failed to acknowledge the stutter in your voice as you spoke to him, for it hadn’t crossed his mind once that you thought he disliked you. not that it would matter to him, anyways.

it’s too soon, he thought to himself. this is stupid, he argued. i’d mess it up if i did anything reckless, he reasoned. all of which were excuses to fight against the overwhelming reality of his vulnerability.

you turned your head away, the extended silence whittling away at whatever confidence you once bore. tsukishima watched with framed eyes and a calculative stare, as if scrutinizing each and every action you took. unbeknownst to you, it was the exact opposite of that.

the soft call of your name from inside the bar pulled your attention away, much to his dismay. he witnessed your frame disappear through the doors, your eyes flitting towards his so quickly he might’ve imagined it.

this was foolish. tsukishima decided that much. but despite his claims of how stupid it was, he was getting reeled in faster than he could pull out.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

despite how hard he tried to display his ignorance, tsukishima was caring at his core.

silent glances exchanged between shifts morphed into small conversations shared whenever possible, as if the tension that previously barred you from interaction had dissipated into nothingness.

at some point, he dropped off a neatly wrapped bento box to your desk, the fabric littered with small dinosaur doodles.

“what is this?” you questioned, an amused lilt to your voice. you failed to notice the way pink rose to his ears, too enamored by the intricate arrangement of veggies and rice.

“don’t think anything of it. i just had leftover food and didn’t want to waste it.” the excuse slipped through his lips as if it were truth, earning him a soft smile from you.

there were butterflies whipping their wings against his ribcage so aggressively they might have bulged out from his skin.

eventually, you invited him out for a walk to the convenience store nearby during your break. and after that, it became routine. with an umbrella in one hand and his wallet in another, tsukishima walked with you down the street to buy onigiri and sandwiches and sometimes a sweet treat nearly every day, and that shared hour became his favorite part of work.

it was silly.

you sat beside him in the booth, your blistered hands carefully unwrapping the plastic from your meal. to your left sat a can of soda. and to your right, he was there.

“i need to stop living off of these,” you complained while motioning towards the onigiri in your grasp.

tsukishima shook his head. “what else would you eat?”

“your bento boxes,” you commented absentmindedly, your bites becoming larger as you neared the center of the rice. “i liked it, when you gave it to me that one time. you should make it again.”

he looked away, his chin resting atop the sweat of his palm. slowly, he turned towards you. “it’s just a bento box. surely you can handle making one.”

“oh, shut up!” you laughed while shoving him lightly. “the fact that you can even make one is shocking. all you have in that head is volleyball and shit.”

“our old test scores say otherwise,” he quipped. the shift in your eyes left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“whatever,” you muttered before leaving to throw out your trash. a pit grew in tsukishima’s stomach.

the blonde mustered the last of his resolve and made an offer. “i’ll teach you how to make one.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

of all the things tsukishima was bracing himself to see, a thinly-walled apartment that was less than well-maintained was the last thing he was prepared for.

you came out from your bedroom in clothes that were far more casual than his, your hair disheveled and your steps uneven. “sorry for the mess,” you uttered while bending down to pick up a hoodie sprawled across the floor, alongside a plastic bag that looked empty. he could only watch in awe.

he placed his bag down on your counter before arranging the ingredients, each brought from his own home. the clatter of your rushed cleaning echoed behind him. and when you finally stood beside the man, he could not contain his grin.

tsukishima decided to hold his tongue. instead, he opted to gently guide your hands through each step, the perspiration collecting on his skin a stark contrast from the rough texture of yours. he realized how little you knew, despite your insistence that you were more than knowledgeable in what you were doing — it showed in your unstable cutting and your hesitance when preparing the pot for boiling — but he refrained from commenting, in fear of disrupting the peace he’d constructed.

on the other hand, you were horrified.

to admit that you were inferior to him in yet another aspect uprooted the envy you had burrowed deep within yourself, and you were terrified of letting it overspill. he was so calm — at least, that was what it looked like — and you’d be damned to ruin it.

mitski’s soft hums reverberated in the background, your shaky chopping filling in the rest of the noise. it was almost satirical — the solemn melodies coated your bare bones and rendered you silent, a strong juxtaposition to the warmth exuded from the closeness of your skin to his. neither of you did anything to interfere, save for an earlier comment from the man questioning your music taste.

(“then what do you listen to?”

“… radiohead.”

“wow. as if that’s any better than mitski.”)

tsukishima found himself smiling at your pride in your creation. messy, yes. but within each ingredient lay a remnant of him, and that was enough.

a stream of small talk emerged into you sitting on the couch together. the music dimmed down to white noise and an old romcom that had only two star ratings played on your TV, the poor quality adding to the humor. your legs leaned against his beneath the blanket. and there was peace.

tsukishima knew what it was. he knew what this would blossom into, and he could only hope and pray he didn’t mess it up in some way. your quiet yet crude commentary disappeared into the tender air, and he remained silent, as if absorbing each syllable that fell from your lips.

it was so quiet, and so vulnerable, and so delicate that he felt like he was going to explode.

he didn’t question it when your head fell onto his shoulder. he didn’t make fun of you when your colorful reviews on each scene turned into sleepy ramblings. and he didn’t say a word when you dozed off against him, your whole body against his.

instead, he looked around. he took note of the dust collecting on the cabinets, the water marks on the windows, the clothes and food and plastic scattered all over your living room, the dead plant on the shelf, and the half-empty pack of cigarettes sitting on the arm of the couch. it was all a far, far cry from the cleanliness and stability of his own home, and yet, he thought to himself, this is so like them. and he thought, i could live in here, if it were with them. and again, he thought, this could be a home.

tsukishima kei was of the belief that he did not have a type. but as he observed your house and reflected on its singular (?) inhabitant, he figured that this was his type. his type was your quiet laughs and your sharp remarks and your wrinkled clothes and the scent of cigarettes that always seemed to cling to you. his type was you.

he exchanged one last glance to your sleeping figure before getting up and leaving you to rest. not without wrapping up your lunch for tomorrow, and not without a small smile on his lips.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

hell came to you on a thursday morning — the day following whatever had happened between you and tsukishima. you hadn’t put on your uniform just yet, and your belongings sat outside of your locker.

your boss scrambled into the office, his brows furrowed and his larger hands closing the door as quickly as he could without slamming it. the sweat that collected between his wrinkles shined beneath the dim lights. his breaths were haggard and rushed and shallow.

for the first time in a long time, you felt fear.

“there’s people who want to talk to you outside,” he whispered. “they want to talk to you now.”

there was no one else in the building. no one other than you, your boss, and the people who were so adamant on speaking to you.

so why was it so loud as soon as you stepped out?

the eyes of your mother came into your vision first. then, the stare of your father. and finally, their faces blended into one large picture that made sense.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

withered hands slammed against the table. you watched the papers and the dinosaur trinkets rattle. “that’s no way to speak to your parents.” you could feel it — the air seeping out of your lungs, depriving you of breath; the trembling in your palms; the cloudiness in your peripherals. you could hear them, but you couldn’t hear them. at some point, their vocabulary was solely financial, and at another point, it grew cruel and violent, akin to wild dogs gnawing away at your skin. you didn’t know where it was going. the hastened footsteps of an unidentifiable coworker neared, and the shaky breaths of your boss behind the door grew louder and louder.

you needed to leave.

your feet led you away before your mind could. the yelling softened, until finally, the only sound was the chirp of birds and the whirring of cars.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t see you for a week. he didn’t hear any mention of your name, didn’t find your face in a crowd, didn’t feel the vibrations of your voice against his chest. you had disappeared, and no one told him why. it wasn’t until your name didn’t show up on the schedule that something clicked.

it was cruel. you were cruel, he decided.

tadashi sat on the couch while his roommate leaned against the counter. the hum of the air conditioning blinded the blonde’s senses.

“i don’t fucking know what i did,” tsukishima groaned into his palms for the twentieth time that night. “they just left. they quit and i can’t even contact them because i was stupid enough to not ask for their number or email or anything. i don’t- i don’t fucking know, ‘dashi, i don’t.”

“i’m sure they had some good reason,” his friend attempted. “i don’t think they’d do that if it weren’t within some sensible limit. it was fucked, yeah, but… i don’t know. i think they’ll come back when the time is right.”

it was tiring. it was tiring to be left alone not just once, but twice. and it was tiring to have it hurt so much more the second time.

tsukishima ran a hand through his hair. “it’s so stupid.” another groan spilled from his tongue. “i’m so fucking tired of this.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

this was just about the fourth job you had applied for.

the museum could no longer be a part of your routine — instead, it morphed into loud nights and bustling men and the clinking of glass; it emerged from quiet and gentle tours around dinosaur exhibits to noisy cheers and yelling and the more-than-occasional bottle thrown at your head; it turned into pure, devastating loneliness.

it was compact. it was suffocating. it was overwhelming. it was everything the museum was not. but you could not return there, no matter how much you ached for it.

you were avoiding him. avoiding everyone.

a gentle nudge from a blurred face reminded you that your shift was over for the night, coupled with an apology for the gash that formed on your head from another drunken man who had no outlet for his anger other than you. with heavy steps, you trudged back home, thankful for the week’s pay and the free food and drinks.

it was quiet.

the lights were off, and the LED numbers on the microwave read way past midnight. a dull pounding resided in your chest.

just the other day, it was so vibrant. you were alive, and so was he, and it was going well. but it was wrong. you realized that much when your parents came to remind you, and you realized it again as you quit the same day.

the thumping in your chest spread to your head, and your back met the wall with a force that was sure to upset your neighbors. carefully, daintily, you slid down, your body reaching the floor gently.

you missed him. but it was wrong.

that night, for the first time in a long while, you cried.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tucked away in a small alley in sendai resided an establishment with only three tables and a bar that was worn down from years of use. and behind it, tsukishima found you.

he was only out for a walk. at least, that was what it was until his feet brought him elsewhere and he stood face-to-face with the most suspicious of buildings. and when he saw you, it felt as if all the anger and guilt and distress that riddled his bones and flesh and blood withered away, as if it hadn’t coalesced within his veins over the past month.

before you could hide, his hand snaked around your wrist, his touch light yet desperate. “can we talk?”

talking entailed bringing him back to your apartment. and by extension, it included him witnessing your house somehow being worse than before.

tsukishima found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and you found yourself sprawled across said couch. he picked at the blisters on his fingers before quietly asking, “why did you do that?”

he could hear your nervous habits — the shifting, the fidgeting, the harsh lip biting. “i don’t know.”

“bullshit,” he muttered under his breath.

you turned over onto your side to face his back. “my parents found me,” you explained meekly. improper guidance leads to destructive tendencies. tsukishima kei, in his high school years, was deemed your only obstacle to complete succession — always a few points ahead, a few questions ahead, a few steps ahead — and your poor influence from youth only fueled such a fire. and so, you felt that it was reasonable to loathe him. your judgement was clouded beyond repair.

tsukishima listened. he listened to every detail, every portion of your retelling of each segment of your childhood, and your teen years, and your silly hatred for him. he listened to you talk about what you did after graduation — how you got into a good university but dropped out and hopped between a multitude of jobs (thus proving your claim at the work party to be a lie), and how you were constantly escaping from both the stress and your parents.

he listened so intently that it was overbearing. you didn’t tell him that. instead, you talked and talked and talked until you sculpted him into someone who knew your entire life, as if he were there from the beginning.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered through stubborn tears. you hated it — how exposing it was, how you had practically dumped everything onto him in one go, how you couldn’t help but beg for forgiveness in the end. most of all, you hated how easily he gave you his forgiveness.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t leave your house at all that week. you found no energy to complain.

in the morning, you’d find him cleaning whatever disaster you left behind, whether it was the pile of laundry on your bed or the collection of full trash bags next to the front door or the food (or rather, the lack thereof) in your fridge. he was silent all the while, and that hurt more than any berating he could have done.

“why are you still here?” you asked him one night. you had finally moved from the couch to the bed, and tsukishima couldn’t be any prouder. (any movement at all was enough to be proud of, he felt). “you shouldn’t want to be here.”

you watched him heave a heavy breath as his shoulders drooped. “because i want you,” he admitted, his voice unmistakably tender and soft and ridden with a youthfulness that he unearthed from deep within himself. “i want to be with you and i want you to be happy and i just want us to be happy together, for once.”

he spoke of his affections so fluently, as if he were born to share them with you. and still, every bone in your body was whispering otherwise.

even so, tsukishima promised that he would be willing to wait. even if it meant watching you down an unreasonable amount of beer at an unreasonable hour.

he promised to sit through it all with you, even if it meant listening to you call his name out in long, drawn-out tones. even if it meant hearing you confess your long-harbored affection for him. even if it meant hearing you say that you never told him, not even in high school, because you felt like you didn’t deserve to tell him.

tsukishima didn’t understand.

he failed to comprehend how you didn’t feel deserving, when his whole body, mind, and soul was bound to you; when, in the depths of the night, he’d burn pink in the night at the mere thought of you; when he was so uncharacteristically smitten for you. he didn’t get it. he didn’t think he ever would.

not that he said anything about it — at least, not in that moment. not when you were inexplicably drunk, to the point where you couldn’t move a limb without tumbling over.

but, without a doubt, he went to bed with a stupid grin and a berry-kissed face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it took another couple of weeks before tsukishima would see you at work again. you entered through the doors as if you never left, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be excited or neutral or anything else, because his guts only knew tenderness with you at that point — all the fake ignorance and stubbornness and denial had been cast aside.

you basked in a shared silence in the locker room, until you finally admitted that you were, in fact, healing. to some degree, at least. you asked him to come over again under the pretense of seeing how clean your house was. you detailed every segment of your life, from when he last saw you to your entrance into the museum, including how you made yourself breakfast for the first time in forever and how you drank a cup of water almost every day. and he was so overwhelmingly proud, so much so that it spilled over and he couldn’t contain himself.

“i love you,” he blurted out, his rushed admission cutting off your rambling. you whipped your head towards him, but he was looking everywhere except for you.

“what?” you exclaimed.

“i said i love you. i’m in love with you. what don’t you get?”

your jaw hung open, just like that of a fish. “wait- what the fuck?” much to his amusement, you jumped up and began pacing around the room. “i like- well, i guess, love,” you paused, the vocabulary uncomfortable on your teeth. “you too, but like- what the fuck? who told you that?”

“you did.”

“what?”

tsukishima kei was laughing. he was laughing at you, and yet, you weren’t as angry as you expected to be. he was laughing, and all you could do was relish in the noise.

“so,” he hummed delightfully, an amused smirk on his lips. “am i still coming over?”

you (begrudgingly) agreed. again, he laughed — this time, at the heat rising to your face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

through the cracks between your blinds, silk strands of sunlight crawled through, a soft reminder of the morning. beside you, a mountain of warmth lay, with his glasses still on his face and his hoodie misshapen on his body.

tsukishima was always the first to rise. he would wait for your eyes to flit open gently before getting up and making breakfast, despite your protests that your food was probably better than his. he never listened.

the splatter of coffee into your cup served as the only noise in the room, save for the dull noise of the morning news on the TV and the cars passing by outside the window. you watched intently as the blonde set up the table, his lip drawn in a tight line but his eyes shimmering with contentment. “eat up,” he spoke quietly as he took a seat in front of you.

tsukishima kei was, by no means, a cruel person. he was just a little rough on the edges and occasionally didn’t quite know how to say things without being mean. but as he sat with you, eating breakfast made by him in your shared apartment; as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead before leaving to change, ignoring your groans about the remnants of syrup on his lips; as he drove you to work as the sun settled in the sky; you realized he was simply a man in love.

[crguang]

meet me in the afterglow

The Astral Express landed on your sick planet and removed the cancer of your world. Even though Himeko belongs with stars as bright as she shines while your place is on steady ground, you would suffer the distance if it meant knowing her.

long distance relationship, hurt/comfort, 7k words.

A/N: this really beat my ass. himeko pov practice, i wanted a more emotional piece so she feels a bit ooc to me

The video call connects and your slightly obscured face is viewed at a low angle. You look down at the screen, smiling with your teeth when you see her, and Himeko easily mirrors your happiness. Her cheek rests in the palm of her hand, elbow on the desk’s surface as she gazes at you through the phone.

“Hiii,” you wave at her cheerfully. Himeko hears the sound of a door closing in the background and with a couple of steps into your apartment, the lights flicker open, illuminating your bright expression born from the mere sight of her. The weariness of her eventful day washes away faced with the striking love you hold for her and she can’t help a short giggle from falling past her lips at your greeting. The musical sound lights up the color in your eyes. 

“Hi. Did you just get home?”

You hum in agreement, your keys rattling in your hands. “Today was so long. I’m happy you called.”

You step out of your shoes and walk around your apartment, only looking up from the screen to open your bedroom door. Himeko watches you prop the device on top of your desk and wander around the room while you discard your jacket. A full-length mirror stands across from the desk, showing your figure even when you’re not in the camera frame.

“Me too, we haven’t talked in a while,” Himeko says as you rummage through your drawers. “How have you been?”

“Yeah, we’ve both been really busy,” you find a clean shirt and begin pulling the one you’re wearing over your head. “Oh!” 

You excitedly walk back in front of the phone, shirt hanging around your neck and exposing your torso. You seem too thrilled to care, but Himeko’s gaze unashamedly lowers to your chest until you clap your hands once and speak again. 

“I got the promotion yesterday! I wanted to tell you. I’d say it was worth being worked to the bone this last month.”

“You did?!” She beams. “I knew you would, no one worked as hard as you have for this. I’m so proud of you.”

The delight on your face warms her from head to toe. It’s a wonder how light you make her despite being multiple warp jumps away, you shine through the distance and effortlessly reach the depths of her chest, filling her with hot air until she’s drifting among the stars she knows so well, weightless. You take the work you do seriously, so she does as well. Your victories are hers, and it feels as though she’s gone through them all with you even though she’s not often physically present. 

“Thank you. How are you? Is the Express parked somewhere?”

“I’m doing good. We’re on the way to Herta’s space station right now for a few minor repairs and to stock up on supplies. We should be there for a couple of days.”

You change into a graphic t-shirt and thin pyjama pants, nodding along to her words. You pick the phone back up and bring it closer to your face. A small, fleeting crease appears between your brows as you truly take her in and notice her lack of sleeping clothes.

“Are you still working?”

Himeko hums lightly, a finger absentmindedly tracing patterns on the desk. “I need to finish up a couple of things.”

You take her with you to the bathroom, and the brighter light makes the concerned down curve of your mouth apparent. “Don’t sleep too late.”

You miss her fond smile. “I won���t.”

You set her up near the sink so you can start brushing your teeth. It’s nice to be privy to these mundane moments, these glimpses of domesticity, even if Himeko wishes she could witness them in person. Her smile twitches at the corners at the cursory thought, but it zooms past when your eyes light up with an idea and you rush to spit the toothpaste into the sink to talk properly. Your expressiveness is a treasure she deeply cherishes. 

“I forgot to tell you,” you quickly rinse your mouth and wipe it with the back of your hand, “I need your advice on something. I was invited to this formal-ish dinner this week and I’m not sure what to wear.”

“What kind of event is it?”

You pick up the phone and make your way back into the bedroom. “An acquaintance’s birthday dinner. It’ll be a good way to make some connections, though, hence my hesitation.”

Upon Humeko’s request, you adjust the screen on your desk to show her the outfits you visualized for the event. You’re too engrossed in your task to feel shy as you change in front of the camera and the endearment of it all almost overshadows the desire bubbling in Himeko’s lowered gaze. She finds her fingertips aching to trail down your bare biceps and forearms, across the tender skin of your wrists and over the lines of your palms; a homogeneous mix of gentle yearning and lingering melancholy simmers inside her chest. The distance between you suddenly feels as immense as it is because no matter what either of you does right now, she cannot touch you. It’s an imposing part of her, touch. Tangling her fingers in your hair, tracing the faint marks of your hips and thighs, pressing reverent kisses on the apple of your cheeks or behind your ears— they are confessions she slowly realizes that she can’t go without. She will utter warm truths meant solely for you, and even shout them if you wish, but her hands are growing restless. She does everything with her hands, she tinkers and soothes and creates, but she cannot touch you, not as often as she craves to. The feeling isn’t unfamiliar, she simply tells herself that she misses you particularly hard on this day and counts the next ones until you reunite. Tonight… perhaps it’s the month-long absence with only scattered messages exchanged between you or the fact that you’re trying on clothes for yet another event she won’t get to experience with you, but the longing curled around her rib cage tingles uncomfortably. 

You turn to face the camera, showing off one of your outfits, and Himeko’s smile holds a sad tint that you don’t notice straight away. It’s hidden behind genuine affection, but she unknowingly becomes slower to answer and you send her a quizzical look. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, stepping closer to the phone to see her better. 

“Of course.” Himeko blinks, not expecting the question, and answers reflexively. You don’t seem convinced, so she adds, “This outfit is my favorite, you look gorgeous in it. You should put your hair up to go with it.”

You nod slowly, eyes flickering over her features in search of what lurks beneath her easy demeanor. When she doesn’t expand on the matter, you let it go. You start taking off the outfit to change back into your pyjamas. It’s briefly quiet for a moment and in usual circumstances the silence would be comfortable but there’s a persistent weight on Himeko’s chest that she can’t part with, it manages to cloud your sunny smiles and bright eyes enough for a soft sigh to escape her. She’s full of affection as you settle into bed with your phone in your hands and look at her with half your face squished into your pillow, it is exactly what this discouragement is born from and she can’t elude it. She feels a touch of guilt come into the mix for having something so beautiful bred such negative emotions. 

Your thumb hovers over her image on the screen as you speak. “If you’re not too busy… I have this weekend off. We could see each other?”

Himeko quickly runs through the tasks she has to complete this week. If she moves some things around and delegates others well, she should be able to free up at least an entire day to visit you— and she will because just the thought of having you close has her floating a few inches from the ground. 

“I can do Saturday,” she replies. The promise of seeing you soon almost melts away every other thought.

“Oh. That’s not too bad.”

Her pout is playful but her question is not. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I just miss you.”

Right. Though you don’t often complain, she’s reminded that the distance also weighs on you sometimes. Guilt grows steadily in the dark confines of her guts like a slow-acting cancer. Himeko knows it’s not anyone’s fault that she’s a Nameless fated to travel among the stars while you’re rooted to your world, helping its recovery from a Stellaron disaster. You’re needed where you are, she’s walking the path of the trailblaze, but she can’t help feeling awful at the dismissive way you imply that it’s been some time since you last saw each other in person. She bears the responsibility of your happiness and a sense of failure overcomes her whenever it’s clear that her absence saddens you. It’s easier to blame herself when she’s the one who never stays too long in one place.

“…I miss you too, you know.”

“I know,” you offer her a soft smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. Himeko does her best to return it. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too.”

—

Himeko doesn’t show up on Saturday. You’ve left her multiple messages, called her phone throughout the day, growing increasingly worried every time you reached her voicemail, and waited in your apartment for hours in case she would appear on your doorstep. You stand in front of the kitchen counter where two cold servings of her favorite dish lay and stare at the phone screen, opened on your private texts, like the familiar three dots indicating that she’s online will suddenly pop up. You tell yourself that she likely got caught up in something important and ignore the mocking voice that asks, “Are you not important, too?” You feel the food under your nose is laughing at you, its carefully plated vegetables reminding you of your previous excitement and exacerbating your current disappointment, so you put it in a container and throw it in the fridge. You’re not hungry anymore. It’s not the first time your plans have fallen through but Himeko usually warns you that she can’t make it or calls you with soft apologies on her lips. Because of your schedule, you’ve had to cancel a couple of times too, these things happen and no one’s to blame for them. That thought doesn’t dissolve the dejection burning your throat. 

It’s late in the evening, and you settle on the couch with a book you’ve been meaning to read for weeks now but have been lacking the free time to do so. Two chapters in and the words stop making sense; they dance on the page and merge to form completely different sentences as your mind wanders to what lies beyond your skies— the grandiosity of the Astral Express. You visited it a few times, back when its crew parked on your planet and helped seal the Stellaron that was eating at your world. You still remember its large panoramic windows and the boundless stars beyond them, its long hallways and cozy parlor. Traveling with such an extraordinary companion makes each day worth remembering. That train is her oldest friend, she saved it from erosion and has taken great care of it since, it’s witnessed her growth as a Trailblazer and showed her sights you can’t picture. You understand, a little because Himeko introduced you to the constellations with a hand on your forearm and you smell coffee beans whenever you look up at them from your balcony. 

You mark your page and put down the book. There’s no point in attempting to read more tonight, your head is full of those first days spent learning Himeko; her talent for diplomacy, a strength that could shake the seas and a regard for life just as unwavering. She sometimes says your meeting was meticulously etched into the firmament. You didn’t care much for the truth behind fate before her, she single-handedly turned you into a believer like she was an angel apparition bringing news from above. You’d argue being loved by her is akin to a religious experience, her palms soften your woes and her sincere words touch parts of you that you’ve never known until she spoke. You wish to revere her without constraints. 

You’re so lost in memories that the sudden melody of your ringtone startles you. You reach for the phone on the coffee table. You stare at the contact, hesitant, before erasing all wistfulness from your features and accepting the video call.

Himeko waits for the call to connect with a thundering heart and guilt pooling in her stomach. She dreads this so much, dreads seeing the frown on your lips knowing she’s the cause of it, that she’s put back talking to you for two hours now. She owes you an explanation, of course, and she doesn’t seek your forgiveness for her lack of communication. Her apprehension comes from the disappointment she’s sure you’re feeling, and a familiar sense of failure washes over her at the thought of letting you down again.

Your pouty face appears on the screen and Himeko can’t even force a shaky smile. 

“I’m so sorry,” the words are quick to tumble from her lips like they’ve been uncomfortably sitting in the back of her throat for days. “I should’ve called. The Express needed some last-minute repairs and I’m the only one— I’m sorry.” 

It’s the truth, but her voice is small to her ears because it sounds like she’s making excuses when she has none. She should have taken a few minutes to explain the situation to you instead of leaving you hanging for hours after assuring you that she’d be there this weekend. Getting lost in her work is easy and happens more often than not but she has a foreboding feeling that she truly messed up this time around, something curls around her throat and squeezes, forcing unsteady breaths out of her. 

“It’s… It’s fine, Hime. Is everything okay?”

Your easy understanding is not a facade and it worsens her guilt, she could swim in it and not touch the bottom. She sees the hurt you try to push away for her sake, it’s in the depths of your eyes and the slight curve of your mouth. A recurring thought lingers in her mind; she doesn’t deserve you. 

Himeko nods once, futilely swallowing to loosen her throat. “Everything’s alright, I had to sort out some complications with the suspension components and the HVAC systems. I didn’t forget about you, I just… got caught up in other things. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It’s a bit of a bummer, I made your favorite,” you sigh playfully, hoping to lighten the mood, “I’ll just have to eat it all.”

Your teasing has the opposite effect. Her heart drops knowing you must have been cooking for a couple hours in anticipation of her visit. The scroll of missed opportunities she keeps locked in a corner of her mind grows longer and the longing in her chest expands to her fingertips. 

“You… made my favorite dish? I didn’t deserve that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I wanted to surprise you.”

Himeko rubs at her eye with a weary sigh in an attempt to partially conceal her mournful expression before she has the chance to shift it into something less melancholic. A taunting voice, her voice, whispers in her ear that your efforts are wasted on her, that they’ll forever be wasted on her because she can never be away from the Express for too long. You’re at home, staring at the heavens, waiting for her to land and she breathes easier among the stars. You deserve to live your life without your head constantly in the clouds. She’s holding you back, the voice rings inside her head like multiple murmurs on top of each other, she’s stringing you along despite the weight of circumstance dragging you both down. 

“Hey,” you say softly, noticing the far-away look in her eyes and the quiver in her brow. “We can set up another time to meet. When are you free?”

She wishes she had a definite answer. Pom-Pom is currently reworking their timetable to ensure the Astral Express doesn’t run out of fuel and in the meantime, there’s no guarantee that she’ll be able to see you. Still, she can’t bring herself to tell you the harsh news so she softens the blow to give you some hope.

“I’m not sure… Hopefully next weekend?”

You try hard to keep your face from falling, she can tell, your expressiveness is one of the things she adores most about you. Tonight, it only hurts.

“I’m out of town, it’s my parents’ anniversary, remember?”

“Right.”

The following pause in the conversation is tense with the unsaid, what you both know to be true yet refuse to vocalize; it’s getting harder to make time for each other due to the drastically different, busy lives you’re living. The voice in her head gets louder. It turns into an insistent ruckus fiercely protective of you meant to preserve your wellness even at the cost of her heartbreak. You deserve someone who will take the time to celebrate your accomplishments, who will share the most intimate part of your life with you, and she… Himeko can’t simultaneously be that person and a Nameless. She wants to be there, her body yearns for your proximity to confess all the things she can’t find the words for, but she would have to sacrifice a piece of her identity for that consistency, something she can’t bring herself to do. Her love for you shouldn’t hurt this much. It’s unfair, how her affection is the source of your pain. How much longer can she lie to herself and pretend that having you this way is better than not having you at all? How much longer can she stand the defeat in your eyes?

“...I miss you.” It’s a pitiful sound, helpless and small. She wills herself to be strong against the sad smile you respond with.

“I miss you too. But we’re both where we want to be, right? You get to blaze a trail every day and I make a difference here.” You speak the truth, and yet it doesn’t soothe the tightness of her throat. 

“It doesn’t make it easier, does it?”

“...No. It doesn’t.”

Himeko knows what she has to do. Your smile falters, the following silence weighs on her bones, and she comes to a conclusion long overdue. A quiver runs through her fingers and she has to keep them out of the frame so you can’t see her growing distress. She takes a slow breath, blinks her unshed tears away and forces the words out of her mouth.

“What if… What if we—”

“Don’t say that,’ you interrupt her readily, firmly, furrowed brows worsening her guilt. 

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t take it back.”

She knows that, too. Even so, it was always going to end like this. Himeko feels like she’s falling apart, flayed layer by layer until she sits painstakingly raw in front of you. A screen and millions of miles separate you from her, burning her desires to hold you tight and bask in your comfort to ashes. She is reduced to heartbreak and guilt and yearning, she is an amalgamation of emotions impossible to contain in a human body; her hands shake, her next exhale is wobbly but she can’t bear to look away from you and your sorrow. It’s her fault, it was her pursuit of you that doomed you to where you are now. She was so intrigued by your determination and selflessness, your aching need to create a better life for you and everyone around you despite the corruption of the Stellaron plaguing your planet. Your attention was intoxicating and gave her the same feeling as watching the stars breeze past from one of the Express’ panoramic windows. It hurts now, but she could never regret knowing you. 

“What if it’s the right thing to do?” Himeko asks weakly. Her eyes flicker all over your face as if etching the image of you into her mind. 

“How can this feel right?”

“...Because I love you.”

She loves you and she can’t withstand being the cause of your pain. She can’t string you along knowing she can never give you the companionship you’re worthy of. She can’t keep holding you back from fully enjoying the life you’ve built for yourself. What she can do is spare you months of disappointment. 

You swallow thickly. “And ending things will make it better?”

“I don’t know, but it’s better than… than this.”

She’s not expressing herself properly, her emotions cloud her mind and she finds it difficult to choose the right words to convince you that this is the best decision for both of you. 

“How?”

“Because it’ll hurt less.”

Her eyes shut briefly at your stunned silence and her head tilts away from the screen so you can't see how much this is affecting her.  

“It’ll hurt less than being with me, you mean.” 

It’s not a question, so she doesn’t reply. She wants to say she’s doing this for you, to save you the agony of waiting around for her, but she doesn’t trust her voice to stay steady. Her fingers grip the edge of her desk to keep her grounded. She hears a shuddering breath coming from the other line. 

“Are you breaking up with me, Himeko?” 

Your words announce the point of no return. If she doesn’t do this now, she’ll never find the strength to bring it up again. 

She looks at you, and her reply comes out a choked whisper, “Yes.”

The train’s engine is loud in her ears to fill in the quiet between you. You nod absentmindedly, slowly, as you compute her answer. Your eyes don’t settle on the device in your hand, avoiding her mournful gaze, and the camera shakes a little when you straighten up on the couch. The air is heavy around her, it seems to weigh on her like gravity, and her pulse drums in her head like a haunting tune. Your lips purse to control the quiver in them. 

“...I’m sorry,” she says uselessly.

“I have to… I have to wake up early tomorrow,” you don’t want to look at her a moment more and despite how much that hurts, she can’t find it in herself to blame you. She can’t stand herself either. “Um… Goodnight.”

The call ends before she has a chance to speak. Himeko is left staring at the dark screen, tears blurring her vision at the edges, and without the need to appear fine in front of you, she crumbles. A quiet, choked sound escapes her and she slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle the pitiful sobs that start racking through her body. She spends a lifetime hunched over her desk, forehead resting on its cold surface, crying over the loss of you. Memories of moments shared with you— your sunny smiles and melodious laughter, your sleepy voice over the phone, her adoring palms on your full cheeks— every wishful happy ending that she wanted for you torments her mind. She’s drowning in an ocean of her own making. Regret accompanies her guilt and self-loathing, and she starts telling herself that perhaps she should have fought harder to keep you. She should have sacrificed more, she should have stopped herself from uttering words she can’t erase, she should have… 

A week passes so slowly that it feels like she’s been in this state for a decade. The Astral Express crew have all noticed the changes in Himeko’s mood, her prolonged quiet and red-rimmed eyes, but they’re used to her comfort and don’t know how to ease her mind. They try, clumsily, and she appreciates their efforts even if they amount to nothing. She would turn to you for these sorts of things, now she has no one to tell about how she lost you. Her thoughts circle back to you, she wonders what you’re doing when she wakes up, if you’re mourning her like she is you, if your softness has been replaced by hatred or worse— indifference. She goes through the motions because she has to, as the navigator of the Express she can’t afford a week of feeling sorry for herself when so many things require maintenance regularly. All of it is second nature. Her mind wanders to the tremble of your lips while she goes through her checklist. She blinks tears away as she discusses the conductor’s timetable with them. At night, she stares at her phone and fights the urge to press the call button under your contact name. 

Himeko finds herself in the Express parlor on a night she should have gone to bed early. The universe beyond its big windows no longer offers the same comfort it used to and she sits on one of the large couches, huddled in on herself. A half-empty bottle of wine stands on the floor next to her frame. The warmth in her chest and the fog of mind dull her heartbreak to a tolerable ache, tears are drying on her flushed cheeks and her sniffles are fewer than a half hour earlier. The bright phone screen light hurts her tired eyes but she can’t look away from the last video you sent her of you showing your look before leaving the house for that event you once mentioned to her. In her state, she can’t remember the details. Her stare is on the little twirl you make, the white smile you direct at the camera and the movement of your lips as you ramble about your hopes for the night. The clip plays over and over, it has been in a loop since she started drinking. The train car is quiet, there’s only your excitement livening up the place. She stops hearing most of your words at one point, lost in your features and the way you address her so affectionately. 

The desire to call you simmers inside of her like the alcohol she ingested and makes her fingertips twitch. You’re speaking to her in the video, but it’s not enough. It’s not truly you, just a captured moment of a time she hadn’t broken your heart. She wants to hear the real you, to ease the worry that you hate her now even if she can’t fault you for it. Her muddled mind replays the same thought like an annoying chorus and she sluggishly picks up the bottle on the ground to bring it to her lips. All she feels is a little warmer and a little more numb. She wants you. She wants your arms around her, your murmurs close to her ear. The last time she’s held you dates to around two months ago, maybe, she can’t be sure. Her thoughts are a blur. 

Himeko stares unblinkingly at her screen and doesn’t register that her thumb has navigated to your contact and pressed the call button until the line rings. She puts the phone to her ear with apprehension, heart thundering, and holds her breath. The call goes to voicemail. The defeat that crashes over her almost nullifies the effect of the wine, she sucks her lip into her mouth before calling again. And again, and again, and each time she’s met with the same automated message of you asking to leave a voicemail. Her throat tightens. She feels fresh tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She knows she has no right to expect an answer from you after what she’s done but her distress grows with every call she makes. She just wants to hear you, that loving undertone in your voice when you’re speaking to her like she’s special and cherished. She doesn’t count the number of times she’s pressed the redial button and she doesn’t stop to think off how pathetic she must seem, desperate to hear from someone who wants nothing to do with her. 

The call connects when she least expects it. 

“Himeko?” Your groggy voice answers the phone, leaving her quiet. “Is something wrong?”

Part of her can’t believe you picked up, the other cringes as it realizes that you were asleep. She doesn’t move the phone away from her ear to check the time, she’s frozen in place with her fingers clutching the device. Her mouth opens and closes while she figures out what to say, and the longer she takes the more awkward the silence becomes. Her reply comes out slightly garbled, like she’s biting back her tears, and at first all she manages is your name.

“You… Y-You picked up,” she finally says, swallowing hard to keep her voice from breaking.

“Is something wrong?”

Her eyes squeeze shut. She’s so relieved to hear you again, but the fatigue lacing your words breeds a familiar sense of guilt that washes over her in an instant. She’s woken you up with her insistent calls and your first thought is to worry about her. On one hand, it means you must not despise her as much as her mind has made it seem like. On the other, she’s ripped you from needed sleep and she doesn’t even know what to tell you. She’s wasting your time and if you still felt anything for her prior to now, you surely won’t after that. 

Himeko wills her pulse to slow down enough for her to focus. The wine went to her head thirty minutes ago, and it’s making her hazy. She lets out a shaky exhale, taking a moment to steady her breathing before she answers quietly.

“I miss you.”

“...You called for that?”

She can’t help but flinch at how tired you sound, a hint of annoyance in your tone. She deserves it, she tells herself. It’s the middle of the night and she’s calling you to whine about how she misses you, however true that may be, it’s ridiculous and unfair. Her fingers grip the device tighter, her bottom lips trembles, and she tries to think of a response that won’t irritate you further. 

“No. I mean, yes? I just… I missed you.” She gets progressively quieter as she speaks, eyes shut tight in apprehension. The alcohol slurs her reply slightly and slows her delivery. 

“You don’t get to do this, to call me eight times in the middle of the night after you ended things just to say that you miss me.”

“I know… I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have called you…” Regret fills her lungs and tightens her throat. She wraps an arm around her knees and curls in further into herself. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Are you drunk?”

Himeko pauses longer than a sober person would. “Yes…” She says shamefully. “I’m sorry.”

“Drink some water and go to bed.”

It feels like you’re shutting her out, refusing to speak to her when all she wanted was to hear your voice. Her heart sinks and she tightens her hold around her knees. She barely manages a response after a bit of hesitation. 

“Okay. I will… I just— missed you and it was stupid to think…” She can’t string a coherent sentence together, her thoughts are jumbled because of how little she’s been sleeping lately and the alcohol she’s been sipping on for the past hour. She also has no idea what to say. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth and betrays her by spilling unfiltered sentiments. “I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s making me miserable.”

She’s only ever felt this bad after talking to you when she broke up with you over the phone. It’s obvious you don’t want to hear her drunken blabbering  and she feels like a fool, holding back tears as she listens to you breathe on the oher end of the line. She just needs something from you, anything that might provide her some comfort even though she knows she doesn’t deserve it. 

“Do you want to hurt me?”

“Huh?” It takes a minute to understand you. She bites back a sniffle, almost certain you’re about to end the call. You would have every reason to. In a moment of drunken confusion, Himeko forgets herself and blurts out,  “N-No, of course not, I wouldn’t… I love you.” She’s forgotten she can’t say that anymore, and Himeko is left breathless and horrified at the realization. 

The line is silent. She can’t hear your breaths from how loud her heart beats in her ears. Her body tenses, the grip on her phone turns white-knuckled and she doesn’t dare speak another word until you do. 

“...You’re the one who broke up with me. Now you miss me? You love me? Seriously?”

“I do miss you. I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing, that it would be better for both of us because you get so sad and it breaks my heart to know that I’m to blame.”

“You don’t get to decide what's good for me. Do you have any idea how I’ve been feeling? It sounds like you did it for you, not for me.”

“No, I…”

“Get some sleep. Goodnight, Himeko.”

Himeko’s body jolts upon hearing your reply, her eyes snap open and she sits up a bit on the couch. There’s more she wants to say to you, but you hung up the phone before she could even call out. She wants to say that it’s not true, she did have your wellness in mind when making that decision. She’s left sitting there, the quiet around her almost deafening. She stares into space as she slowly lowers the phone from her ear. 

After a few more minutes of sitting in her sorrow, Himeko finally heaves a sigh of defeat. She can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much. She sets the phone down on the couch, the urge to throw it across the room almost unbearable. She can still hear your words ringing in her ears as she buries her head in her hands, her fingers digging into her hair, and she desperately tries to hold her emotions from spilling out of her in undignified, strangled noises. Her throat feels like it wants to close in on itself while her chest heaves with the effort it takes not to break down in the middle of the parlor. She needs you. She feels so empty without you, and it’s her fault. She thought she was sparing you unnecessary pain and that you would eventually be better off without someone like her, who you can’t see or talk to consistently. She believed that being apart from you would hurt less than having to sit behind a screen and watch you for hours, longing eroding her bones. She was wrong, and the longer Himeko sits there, the more she’s convinced of it. The arguments she’s made up in her mind to justify her decision feel meaningless. She can only feel the weight of your absence as warm tears stream down her cheeks.

The next day, Himeko reminds herself of the path she follows. The spirit of the Trailblaze lies within her, she’s a Nameless and that means she fights to the end no matter the outcome. Three days after that, there’s a knock on your door.

You’re staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom one evening, letting the comforting patter of the rain against your window panes soothe the melancholy of your heart. The breeze is also welcome, you almost doze off against the pillows, eyelids heavy, when a firm fist knocks on your front door. You hear it through the rain, and a frown tugs at your lips. You’re not expecting anyone in this weather and frankly, you’d rather be alone. You consider ignoring it, hoping whoever is vying for your attention gets discouraged and leaves. After a minute, three strong knocks sound from behind the door again. You leave your bed with an irritated sigh. You stride towards the entrance of your apartment, unlock the door and sharply twist the handle to reveal your visitor. 

Himeko’s soaked figure stands on the porch. The rain darkens her long hair and seeps into her thin clothes, strands of red sticks to her forehead and her coat uselessly hangs around her shoulders, drenched like the rest of her. Water streams down her face but her eyes are clear as they look up at you, wide with nerves and determination. Her body trembles with a cold shiver. Her lips part in fleeting surprise like she wasn’t expecting you to answer the door. She’s been rehearsing what to say to you in her head on her way to your place, making sure she would leave having said everything she meant to tell you. However, now that she’s standing in front of you in the flesh after so long, the words melt on her tongue and all Himeko can do is utter a single word.

“Hi.”

“Himeko…?” You blink at the sight of her like she’s an apparition meant to mock you. “What are you…”

“Before you say anything, please, let me start,” she swallows once and stands a little straighter, head high. Confessions that have been sitting on her chest for what feels like an eternity come tumbling out of her lips. “I was a coward. I gave up on us when times were toughest and let my insecurities make up reasons for it to justify the fact that I was scared. I was scared you would realize that I don’t deserve you and that you’re better off with a woman who can actually be present in your life. I still believe you’re worthy of that but it was wrong to end our relationship over the phone with no proper discussion, and it was worse to call you afterwards while I’d been drinking. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t want to be without you, no matter what form our relationship takes. I feel you under my skin like the muscles that make my heart beat. Knowing you is part of what makes me happy, it’s as much a part of me as the Trailblaze, and without you, I’m incomplete. Whether that means anything to you now, I… I love you. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to take me back, but I needed you to hear it.”

You stare at her in disbelief. She has to blink the water out of her eyes as she speaks but her voice never wavers, her conviction shines through the pouring rain and sends your pulse into a frenzy. Himeko’s bare shoulders shake with the cold and she gazes at you with a heaving chest while her words settle in the air. At this distance, her fingertips ache to reach out for your touch. She stands in front of you, and she suddenly forgets how you feel under her palms; the texture of your hair between her fingers, the curve of your back, the plane of your stomach. She longs to experience it all. 

It feels like a lifetime before your body decides to obey your mind again. Your heart swells, your lungs fill with air, and you do the only sensible thing you can do. Stepping into the downpour, your palms cup her frozen, rosy cheeks and pull her close. Your lips press into hers with a desperation you didn’t know you were capable of, melding with the softness of her mouth in a passionate kiss. You immediately feel her cold arms around your waist and her wet lips reciprocate your affection. Himeko holds you flush against her as she kisses you with equal emotion, gripping your clothes like she can’t bear the thought of being apart a moment longer. Under the heavy rainfall, you’re as drenched as she is in half a minute. Her breath mingles with yours, your senses become attuned only to her loving mouth and soaked chest pressed to your own. You don’t feel the cold. The water turns your kisses slippery, your lips slide together like you’ve been kissing her your entire life, and Himeko makes a breathy sound into your mouth. In the next instant, her hands are wandering up your back and down your sides, pulling you impossibly close to her body until you’re two pieces of a whole that will never be broken. Her touch spills confessions she will repeat over and over.

Your pace slows to gentle kisses on each other’s lips, foreheads resting together as you catch your breath. Your clothes cling uncomfortably to your skin and a shiver runs through you from the temperature, but your chest warms at the way Himeko’s nose nuzzles against yours. 

“You’ve always been worth the distance, Hime. How could you not be?”

“I’ll find a way to be with you more often. I promise.”

She seals that promise with a revering kiss wet with the heavens’ tears.

[rottenroyalebooks]

It's a bad idea, right?

Series: The Mortal Instruments

Pairing: Jace Wayland x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Possibly OOC Jace, slight description of Reader (mainly that Jace is taller than her), use of Y/N. All characters are aged 18+.

Summary:

Y/N has a Warlock ex that seems to have her under his spell, metaphorically speaking, and every time he calls, she answers.

Jace has had enough of watching her go back to him repeatedly. Because they're friends, definitely not because he's in love with her or anything.

A/N: Guys, I have finally caved into my desires and am diving deep into the world of The Mortal Instruments. I watched most of the show a few years ago and saw the movie a few days ago, which led me to buy a box set of the 6 Mortal Instruments books. I am just about halfway through The City of Bones, so I still have a lot of learning to do. Forgive me if I need to correct something.

Also, I love all the show characters, but Movie Jace feels closer to Book Jace than Show Jace, so I am committed to Movie Jace for visual representation and Movie Jace only.

Does that make sense to you? Yes? Cool.

"You were where last night?" Izzy asked her a bit too loudly as she and Y/N walked into the weapons room where Alec and Jace were working on cleaning their weapons used from the previous mission.

Y/N shushed her as the two boys looked over, "Seriously, whatever happened to private girl talk?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, speaking lower than before so the guys wouldn't hear, "What ever happened to cutting him out of your life? Finding a new guy to get in your bed to get over him, that's why we went to Pandemonium last night, remember?"

Y/N huffed in response. Of course, she knew that's why Izzy and Clary dragged her to Pandemonium. It was a plan that she had yet to be very keen on. Izzy had gone to powder her nose, and Clary went to dance when Demetrius Black approached her on the dance floor, convincing her to leave with him.

It never took much convincing. He never went to Pandemonium, so she thought it was safe, but alas, she woke up in his bed again with her favorite tea made just the way she liked it on the nightstand next to her. He was nowhere to be seen.

Izzy rolled her eyes at the lack of response, "I need to put a tracker on you, like an outdoor cat." She turned on her heels and walked away.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair before leaving the weapons room. She needed to punch something, so she soon found her way to the training room, where a punching bag sat calmly in the middle.

Then she beat the shit out of it.

"Stupid Demetrius and his stupidly charming attitude."

One Two.

"Stupid me for falling for it, again."

One Two Three.

"And stupid Mundane girl who couldn't keep her grimy hands to herself!"

With enough force of one last punch, the bag flew backward, hitting the wall as she let out a long groan of anger.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Jace's voice appeared behind her making her jump out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ,"

"Not exactly." He smirked, but she ignored his comment.

"Do you feel the need to scare everyone or just me? Am I that special?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips as she began walking over to the punching bag so she could put it back in its usual location.

"Stop dodging my question. Do you want to talk about why you punched the bag across the room?"

She signed, letting the bag stand back up, "Will you try not to make fun of me for at least ten minutes if I tell you."

He chuckled, leaning against a pillar with his signature smug look, "I'll try my very best."

She couldn't look him in the eye, but she told him everything. From Izzy's plan to it failing when she left her alone for not even five minutes to waking up in her ex's bed again.

His expression was stoic throughout the entire time she was speaking; all of Jace's smugness and ego quickly flushed away as envy flooded his veins.

She didn't notice his change in expression because she refused to look at him.

"I know it's stupid, but it's like he put a spell on me."

"You have a permanent ruin to block any Warlock from using that magic on you."

She groaned, "I meant metaphorically." She plopped down on the bench and ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, I don't even know what you see in the Warlock-"

"Alec is with Mangus, and you never have anything to say about that, but when I date a Downworlder who has helped us just as much as Mangus has, you suddenly have an issue?"

He didn't have a chance to think before he spoke, blurting out, "I can't stand to see you hurting yourself with someone who doesn't deserve you."

Her head snaps to finally make eye contact; she lets her emotions talk without knowing what to think, "You don't get to decide who deserves me, Jace. You're not my father, and you're not my brother. Don't act like it."

He stepped closer to where she was sitting, "He cheated on you. Remember that? You cried to Clary and Izzy for days about it, then you cried yourself to sleep after all that," He saw the shocked look on her face, "We share a wall, remember? The same wall both of our beds are up against. I heard it all and witnessed you tear yourself apart from all the insecurities he gave you. So yes, I may not be in a position to say it, but I can say for certain that he doesn't deserve you."

The tension between the two shadow hunters was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Neither of them said anything else, just stared at each other until she stood up and brushed past him.

"Thanks for the reminder."

Jace only watched as she left the room, wanting to walk after her but feeling paralyzed where he stood. He cursed under his breath and looked down at his feet.

It was his turn to send the punching bag flying across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, the group went on a mission to track down a Vampire, killing humans left and right. Clary had poked around through the different nests in the city with Alec and Izzy, but none of them seemed to be acquainted with the rouge Vampire.

Jace and Y/N were tasked with searching Pandemonium for the Vampire or any information retaining it.

Things between them were still tense, and the others could see it, but Jace had been the one to wordlessly follow her to Pandemonium. The music was loud and beating through her head, making the memories from the night prior resurface, but she shook it off as she looked around for any suspicious Downworld behavior.

She and Jace had split up in the crowd, which meant she was alone when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a text from Demetrius:

Demetrius: I can tell you're working from how you dress tonight, but meet me at the bar. I might have the information you are searching for. ;)

Tensing up, she looks over at the bar seeing Demetrius leaning against it in all his glory, smirking knowingly at her. She pushed her hurt deep down and walked over to him.

"Well, you look lovely tonight, darling." He said, reaching out to touch her hair when she stopped about two feet away, but she smacked his hand away quickly.

"No time for pleasantries, Demetrius. Do you know anything about a Rouge Vampire, or are you wasting my time?"

"Playing hard to get tonight? Let me buy you a drink." He said as he waved to the bartender to get his attention.

She scoffed, shaking her head, "I knew this was a waste of time--" She stopped speaking when she backed into someone's chest; she didn't even need to look up to know it was Jace. She didn't realize he found them.

Jace didn't move at the contact; he only stared at Demetrius, who noticed he was standing there because she had stopped speaking.

"Oh look," he commented, bored, "It's the guard dog. Don't you have anything better to do than following her around like a lost puppy?"

"We're working, Demetrius." She spoke as Jace opened his mouth, cutting him off before a fight could break out, "Since you don't actually have any information for me, I am going to leave."

She brushed past Jace, leaving the two boys at the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

Jace followed her with his eyes until he knew she was out of earshot. Looking back at Demetrius with a glare that could kill a thousand men, he said, "If you come near her again, I will not hesitate to track you down and kill you myself."

Demetrius smirked, taking a sip from his drink, "And break The Clave's precious rules? From what she told me, you are one of those who respect the Covenant more than anything."

Jace took two steps forward, standing toe to toe with the Warlock, a look of pure hatred in his eyes, "I would break a thousand rules if it made her happy. I would break a thousand rules to make sure she is safe. Don't test me, Warlock."

Demetrius took another sip of his drink, "I always knew, from the moment I had the displeasure of meeting you, that you were in love with her. I watched as you protected her like a lovesick puppy even though she was head over heels in love with me. Now that she is single, why haven't you swept her off her feet to prevent her from falling into my bed?"

He leaned close to his ear, saying just above a whisper, "Maybe it's because you know she will never love you back."

Jace shoved him away, stalking off to get back to work. Only to watch as she left the storage room and in his direction; as she passed him, she said, "Threat has been neutralized, let's get out of here."

She was annoyed. Mostly at herself for thinking he wouldn't come back to her favorite club to antagonize her, but also at the fact that she had to take on a Vampire by herself because Jace decided to have a little chat with her ex.

At the same time, she was proud of herself for finally avoiding Demetrius' charm like the plague. Progress is Progress.

As she exited Pandemonium, she pulled out her phone and started texting Clary to let them know the Vampire was found and taken care of, but Jace pulled her phone out of her hands.

"I'll take that." He said as he went to her contacts lists.

Her jaw dropped, "Jace! Give that back!" She snapped, watching him smirk at her phone as he tapped the screen a few times before giving it back to her.

"First step, blocking your ex's number."

She rolled her eyes and brushed passed him. Raising her hand, a cab drove up to her almost immediately.

"How do you always get cabs so quickly?" He muttered loud enough for her to hear as he stood behind her protectively.

"It's a gift," she said flatly, getting into the cab and scooting over so Jace could get in, even though she wanted him to get his own taxi.

"You cant just avoid me forever." He said into her ear once she got comfortable after telling the driver where to drop them off.

She crossed her arms, staring straight ahead, "Watch me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jace, let you fight the Vampire by yourself?" Izzy asked her in the kitchen of the Institute, snacking on popcorn with Clary on the opposite side of her as the three girls usually did after a hunt.

"He didn't let me; he was at the bar talking with Demetrius. I thought he followed me into the crowd when I left the bar, but he wasn't behind me when I found the Vampire and pointed it out to him." She ran a hand through her hair and looked down, "I didn't want to lose him, so I followed the Vampire into the storage room, scared off the mundane that was with him, and killed the bloodsucker."

Clary laughed, "And you did it by yourself."

Y/N shrugged, "It was easy because he was a new Vampire who didn't have anyone to guide him."

"What did Jace say when you told him you took care of it?" Izzy tossed another piece of Popcorn into Clary's mouth, and she caught it successfully.

"He didn't react, just followed me out and got rid of Demetrius' contact on my phone."

Clary nearly choked on her popcorn before swallowing it, "He did what?"

Sighing, she nodded, "Yeah, talk about quitting cold turkey."

Izzy giggled, elbowing Clary lightly. "Maybe Jace will finally start courting her."

Y/N raised an eyebrow; Jace was into someone? That was new information, "Courting who? We don't come into contact with many shadow hunters unless he has a secret Mundane lover."

Blinking, Izzy looked from Clary to Y/N and back to Clary, "Is she serious?"

"I think she is."

"Okay, what are you two going on about?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, blinking at the two of them.

"How do we put this nicely-" Clary began speaking, but Izzy cut her off, "Jace has been in love with you since we were thirteen."

Taken aback, all Y/N could do was laugh, "What? No! You guys are crazy. The only person Jace loves is himself." She rolled her eyes, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

Clary spoke up, "When I first learned I was a Shadow Hunter and Jace brought me to the institute, I thought he was cute, but then I saw the way he looked at you, and I thought you two were a thing for a whole month until I saw you making out with a mundane near Pandemonium."

"I remember that!" Izzy giggled, turning to Y/N, "Clary freaked out and came running to me saying that you cheated on Jace and that we needed to tell him. It was so funny trying to explain to her that the two of you weren't a thing."

"My point is," Clary interjected, looking at Y/N, "Jace Wayland has been pining over you for so long. He's extra protective of you. When you came home crying a few months ago because the dirtbag cheated on you, Alec had to stop him from hunting him down and killing him without a second thought."

Y/N sank in her chair, blinking, "I had no idea."

"You're just a little oblivious; it's okay," Izzy said, patting her head.

She shook her head, "It's late. I'm going to bed."

She exited the chair and said goodnight to the two girls before leaving the kitchen.

She was going to bed, but then her feet decided to take her to where she knew Jace would be at this time of night.

The garden.

She opened the door quietly, searching for the blond among the flowers and plants, when she spotted him sitting on a bench. He was reading a book that she couldn't read the title of because of how old it was. She walked over to him and placed her hands in her sweater pockets, "You know how to read?"

He looked up at her from his book, "Sneaking up on people is supposed to be my thing."

"You'll have to learn how to share. May I sit?"

He nodded, closing the book with a bookmark between the pages, and moved to one side of the bench to make room for her to sit, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "I will be. Thank you for being there for me back at Pandemonium and in the training room earlier today. I needed to hear the truth. Even though my stance on the fact you need to work on your comforting skills stays intact." She teased him lightly, making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with the Vampire alone while I was defending your honor; it won't ever happen again."

"It better not." She chuckled, leaning back and relaxing on the bench, stifling a yawn, "Because I might just have to kill you myself, then."

"As if you would dare lay a mark on my greatest asset." He gestured to his face making Y/N roll her eyes and slapped his hand away.

"That ego of yours is going to be the death of me one day. Do I have to worry about you falling in love with your own reflection and drowning because of it like Narcissus?"

Letting out a laugh, Jace shook his head, looking up at the time on his watch, the very one she had gotten him for his last birthday, "It's getting late. You need rest."

"So do you," she fired back, standing up and glaring at him, "We need you at the top of your game, come on."

He chuckled, standing up and holding the book against his hip as they left the garden together and walked through the Institute.

"Do you need some tea to help you relax?" She asked, tilting her head up at him.

He smiled down at her, "No, I can manage."

They approached their rooms silently, he walked her to her door, and she nodded, "Goodnight, Jace."

He watched as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her, but he didn't move to his room next door, even though he should have.

No, he thought about how he realized Demetrius' words were true. He loved her and didn't know what to do with this information.

He raised his hand to knock on her door again, wanting to get the rejection over with, but just before his fist could make contact with the wood, the door opened, followed by her voice saying, "Jace, wait." before getting cut off by realizing he was standing there still.

The two stood there wordlessly, staring at each other. No one knew who made the first move that night, but soon Y/N felt his hands cupping her face as their lips touched.

It felt right, kissing Jace; he was gentle yet passionate, as if he were making up for the lost time, which he was. As it turned out, so was she.

When they broke apart for air, nothing could stop their mutual smiles from appearing on their faces as Jace rested his forehead on hers.

"Sleep in my room tonight? We can talk about this in the morning."

He nodded, picking her up over his left shoulder, causing a light squeal to leave her lips as he walked into the room, closing the door with his foot.

[ttulipwritezz]

This Is Our Place.~ S.Black

Ootp! Sirius Black x gn! Reader

Synopsis: After azkaban, Sirius falls for his best friend's colleague, who just so happens to return his feelings. They find their place within the confines of a war. Perhaps they'll leave the Christmas lights up till January.

Wc: 2k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, inconsistency, mentions of presents, Christmas, bad family (s.b), kiss(es), might be ooc idk.

The clouds began to form in delicate shapes, and the roar of thunder echoed through the gloomy room. The light from a candle illuminated the kitchen, in which you sat, your mind preoccupied with the thought of the incoming rain.

Preoccupied with the thought of having to take the clothes off the drying rack anytime soon or bringing all your potted plants indoors to avoid them drowning.

It was not an odd thing—rain—being that it was the end of August.

"Knock, knock."

You looked up from where a blank piece of parchment lay in front of you, curious to know the source of the words.

"You could just, you know, knock? Like a normal person,  Sirius."

You found yourself speaking before you could collect your thoughts. The said man glanced at the parchment once and looked back at your face, his lips curving up the tiniest bit at your attempt to lighten the mood.

"Who am I, if normal, love?" He chuckles with a crooked smile.

You let your eyes roam around his face, his hollowed-out cheeks, and his half-lidded eyes. He looks tired. You conclude.

"Do you want some tea? I was just about to make some.."

You weren't really, about to make tea, that is. Still, you found yourself speaking, wanting to comfort the man, even if just a little.

Sirius was, by no means, your friend. He was just a friend of your colleague, Remus. You'd joined Hogwarts the same year Remus did; being new, the two of you hit it off immediately.

It always amazed you how well of a grasp Remus had on DADA. And he returned the favor by complimenting your herbology. You were a couple years younger than Remus, at best, and had known of him and the infamous marauders during your time at Hogwarts. Sirius Black did intrigue you the most.

You knew he came from a wealthy family, a bad one—of course, by no means did you want to intrude on his family life, but the heart does what the heart wants—and that he found solace in the friends he called brothers.

When Remus introduced you to his falsely convicted friend, Sirius Black, You damn near fainted on the spot, not because of his (undeniable) handsomeness but because of the sheer fear of standing in front of a possible murderer.

Now, years later (two to be exact), you find yourself enamored by the faded gray of his eyes and the curved bridge of his nose, which, you reckon, has been broken at least once during his time at Hogwarts, noting the sudden halt in the curve that then sharply turns to the other side and resumes its path.

Maybe it is a little peculiar to be noting such details of his appearance that you can paint a picture of his past. Strange, they'd call it. But it's routine for you. A routine you find comfort in.

"Thank you, Love," he replies.

A mumbled "'course" leaves your lips as you put the kettle to boil on the stove.

Sure, you could use magic, but these mundane tasks that don't require it seem to bring a sort of normalcy to your life. Even if just for a moment, it stops feeling like you're in the midst of a war and that people aren't dying left and right.

You were only nineteen when the first wizarding war came to an end, when your friends lost their lives, and when the dark lord seemingly disappeared forever.

He hadn't; that much was evident from the current situation.

The tea was set in front of Sirius almost unknowingly. You had been a little into your head and had been going about the task with practiced ease.

"Thanks again, Love. When do you reckon the others will return?"

Remus, along with the other order members, had gone on yet another mission. They left Sirius, concluding he was too weak to fight right now, and you, as you'd offered to stay back.

"Any time now, and really, it's no problem,"

you replied, sort of bashful at both his gratitude and the endearment.

As if on cue, the door opened with a jingle of the keys, and numerous voices rang through the empty corridors of Grimmauld Place.

Remus stalked into the kitchen and put his left hand up, leaning against the doorway with his right for some sort of support, revealing a gash running from his middle finger to his wrist and a sheepish smile on his face as he looked at you. Immediately, wordlessly, you walked forward with your wand and began healing the wound.

Removing a tin of herbal paste from the drawer beside and handing it to Remus.

"How'd that happen? I thought this was a 'harmless' mission," you asked, quoting his reassuring words from earlier.

"I nicked myself on a broken shelf." As confident as he sounded, his lie didn't escape you.

All it needed was a 'really?' look on your face to get the truth out.

"Death eaters," he stated, defeated.

"You really ought to be more careful, Rem. It worries me."

You said that and guided him out of the kitchen to assess his other wounds, which included one on his arm and a twisted ankle.

Unaware that a certain raven head was watching you from the table, envious and defeated at failing at his attempts to talk to you. The rain began pouring down, and the clothes and plants still outside ran through your mind.

The rain mirrored the heart of the black, sitting at the table, gloomy as ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You'd last seen Sirius when Harry and the kids stumbled through the door of Grimmauld Place, bringing an unconscious, but thankfully alive, Sirius with them.

Harry had told you that he was leaving to retrieve his godfather from the ministry, mentioning something about a dream, but you weren't paying much attention after you'd heard the news. With Dumbledore's permission and assistance, you'd returned to Grimmauld's place to help in case they ever needed it. Praying that Sirius made it back alive.

The kids, along with Remus and a few other order members, laid the unconscious Sirius on the couch and went to clean themselves up as you offered to take care of Sirius in the meantime.

Once conscious, you dragged Sirius to the bathroom on the ground floor of the house, squeezing through the thin hallways and sitting him on the counter as you retrieved a first-aid kit from the cupboard.

"Couldn't you use magic to fix my wounds?" came his distraught voice, cutting your thoughts short.

"Do you want me to inflict pain on them? Just sit still. Besides, it's not like I'm a healer."

As you cleaned each wound with precision, one thought roamed your head.

It's not like they don't have wands—the death eaters, that is—they injured him in a way that seems almost muggle.

"If you're wondering how, it was Bellatrix," Sirius said, trying to suppress a hiss at the particularly deep wound on his arm, as if reading your mind.

"Your cousin?" you answered, or rather, asked, continuing and moving onto the smaller cuts that littered his face.

Humming, he let you get the rest of the wound cleaned.

You glanced up at his face when opening the packet of cotton, only then realizing how close you had been. His breath was fanning your nose as he stared deep into your eyes, no trace of guilt or shame in them, as if he trusted you wholeheartedly.

You could have sworn you saw him glance at your lips in anticipation. The thought alone swarmed your stomach with butterflies.

Only now had you realized how intimate your shared moments were and how he had always tried to enlighten your mood with his jokes. You thought it was his defense, his coping mechanism.

Though now it seemed amidst the war, all he tried to do was hear you laugh. By pausing your movements as if in a trance, you maintained eye contact with him. He looked so stern and so soft all at once.

In his mind swam thoughts of the previous night, when you cradled Remus's hand with such grace and concern.

His lips parted, and you wanted to kiss him. You don't know why, but you did. All you had to do was move your face half an inch forward, and his lips would crash into yours. You wanted to do it so badly.

And so you did.

His eyes fluttered close, and the arm that wasn't injured came up to grip your neck, light as a feather.

His hands caressed the tiny hairs on your neck and sent a tingle down your spine. The kiss was phenomenal.

You didn't sleep that night; the thoughts were fluttering in your mind even hours later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I kissed him."

As soon as those words left your mouth, Remus choked on his tea and had to take a moment to steady himself.

"You kissed whom exactly!?" came his exasperated voice.

"Sirius," you said sheepishly, suddenly feeling small under his wide gaze.

"I didn't even know you liked him," Lupin said as he went to dry his clothes from the tea.

"It just…sort of happened..you know-"

"no, I don't know y/n..what were you thinking!?" Remus was confused, and a part of him felt betrayed.

You liked his best friend, but he had no clue.

The patter of the rain outside added to the deafening silence that you left. The sound brought you back to the first night in the house, the night when you shared tea with Sirius.

Your eyes flitted to the scar running along the Lycanthropes hand, and you grimaced at the angry red surrounding it as it healed.

"Did you put the balm on it today? your hand, I mean " Your words cut through the silence like a knife, and you moved your hand toward one of the many drawers housing your herbal balms.

"You're deflecting, love... If it's any help, Sirius would much rather pretend nothing happened than act on his own; you're best off confronting him first."

Remus's words were assuring, but the tone in which he said them made you scrunch up your brows and tilt your lip downward.

"Umm, I'll see what I can do." Your hesitance was evident in your voice.

You walked back to your room after handing Remus the green and silver tin, silently reminding him of his wound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the other side of the house, Sirius lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the kiss.

His mind wandered to the feeling of your lips, his hands on on nape, and your gaze before it all.

Your lips. My lips.

"A Rubber Duck!" A shout came from the room beside him. Harry's room. They were playing a round of charades, he remembered.

Harry! Yes!

He should ask Harry. So he made his way towards their room.

"Harry, could I talk to you for a moment?" Just as Harry was getting up and ready to join his godfather,

"actually hold that-"

He turns to Hermione

"-Hermione!! You're a muggle. You'd know! of course" The hopeful tone of his voice sends Ron into a laughing fit, and Harry's mouth twitches into a grin as Hermione sits confused with a frown.

After discussing the matter with the kids, Sirius decides he's done with his stupid old ways. He wants to say something; make the first move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It happened on christmas eve.

Everyone had taken to opening presents under the large tree at the living room.

After watching Ron fawn over his new wizard chess set, you decided it was time for a much needed break.

"I think i'm going to go make some hot chocolate...anyone want some?" You asked, already getting up to yout feet.

Most of them nodded no and you only just realised all their mugs were rather full.

Making your way into the rather small kitchen of grimmauld place, you got out your wand to help make your hot chocolate.

"Knock knock" a familiar raspy voice came from the doorway.

An odd sense of deja vu enveloped you and you turned around to look at the source.

"you could just knock. Like a normal person" you repeated your words from the previous day.

The relationship between you and sirius had strained quite a bit after that shared kiss.

"sorry love, how's your day going so far?" He asked, seemingly trying to dissipate the awkwardness from the air.

"Alright...i suppose, what about you?" You replied with just as much hesitation.

"Good." And it stopped at that, the conversation.

Only now did you realise just how close he had gotten. You backed yourself away slightly, only to find your leg hitting the back of the counter.

The world seemed to be silent as the sound of your breaths mingled with one another, accompanied by the ticking clock.

The noises in the living room had become nothing but a blur and muffled by your thoughts.

"I really like you y/n. I truly do" Sirius spoke first, drawing your attention from the planes of his face

"Huh?" Your reply came meek and unsure.

You weren't even sure you'd heard it right.

"i like you." He reiterated.

You did hear it right.

Your knees felt weak but at the same time you were on cloud nine.

Before getting the chance to gather your thoughts you found yourself speaking..

"I really like you too sirius"

your voice came out just louder than a whisper, you're sure he wouldn't even have heard it.

His next words sent a flurry of butterfiles to your stomach.

"May i..?" You noticed him glancing down at your lips and back at your eyes.

You couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on your face as you nodded yes.

The kiss was diferent than the last, less desperate yet more passionate. It was slow, steady and loving.

You could feel his smile against your lips before you pulled apart.

"I've waited so long to do that" his voice came a mere whisper

Your eyes followed the movement of his lips, which were on yours moments ago.

" I...umm got you a gift" he continued, his hesitation surprising you.

Forcing your eyes to look back at the grey irises you managed to let out a breathless

"what?"

Sirius pulled out a box, a small one of velvet, the kind that would normally house a ring, now held a singular locket that was shaped as a star.

"A star...for my star" he said

You couldn't stop the heat from spreading to your cheeks, eyes widening a touch and lips quirking up the slightest.

Two voices giggling could be heard from the kitchen that night.

The whole night.

A/n: I spent WAYY too long on this- and the ending is super rushed lmao i hope you enjoyed it and all reblogs help me reach more ppl! I had sm fun writing this. i'm v proud of this ❤️❤️

[sister-lucifer]

Hello all well? I just read the new version of the fic "I can ride you until I feel better" from the sub version of the Obey Me boys, so I wanted to ask if you could write a version with the datables characters..

“Can I Ride You Until I Feel Better?” (part 3) 

Read PART ONE and PART TWO 

Diavolo, Barbatos*, Simeon, Solomon x Male Reader (separately) 

Genre: NSFW

Content/Warnings: Dom/Top reader, mentions of riding, slightly OOC Simeon ig? depends on how you perceive him 

Not fully proof read, let me know if you see any errors!

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feed back is encouraged and appreciated:)

*Barbatos uses they/he pronouns 

Diavolo 

Diavolo’s day had consisted of nothing but work, work and more work

He was frustrated, tired, and his brain was fried from staring down at his papers from so long 

He dropped down onto the couch next to you, resting his chin in his hands and letting out a long groan 

“What’s up, Dia?” You asked, brushing away some stray hairs from his forehead 

“I don’t think i’ve had a day that draining in a thousand years…”

“Oh, honey, c’mere…” 

Diavolo laid down with his head in your lap, allowing you to stroke his head 

He stripped off his jacket as well, discarding it on the door thoughtlessly 

“Oh, my love,” Dia sighed, “I need a pick me up…” 

“Anything in mind?” You asked. It was quite obvious that he was already thinking of something

Diavolo turned over to look up at you, somehow keeping a completely straight face as he asked: 

“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 

You were a bit taken aback, but Dia’s calm demeanor didn’t falter 

He was serious, but not trying to be pushy 

Of course you had to agree, and a grin quickly formed on his face 

“Thank you, darling. Now sit back and sit still, I think we’re gonna be here a while…” 

Barbatos 

They may live to serve, but even Barbatos gets worn out from time to time 

He may have more patience than most, but it’s still finite 

They finally got a moment to themself at the end of a long day, and were happy to see you laying in their bed waiting for them 

“Oh, hello, love.” He greeted you. It was short but sweet, although you could still see the tiredness in his eyes 

“Hello, Barbs. You seem worn out. Wanna come lay down?” 

“Yes, actually. That would be nice. I’m not sure why, but today was particularly trying.” 

“I get it. Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you.” 

Soon they had snuggles into bed next to, holding you to their chest and resting his chin on your head 

You could feel the rise and fall of his chest begin to slow as he relaxed, but there was still an odd restless air about them 

“You alright, Barbatos?” 

“Yes, I think so…just, uh, not quite out of ‘work mode’ I suppose…” 

“Well hey, you’re always doing things for other people. Why don’t you let me do something for you instead?” 

Barbatos paused, looking down at you with an intrigued expression  

“Really?”

“Yep. Anything you want Barbs, I’ll do it.” 

“Anything…?” 

You nodded in reply 

Barbatos’ now borderline stoic face gave little to no insight on what they were thinking 

But when they did finally speak, it wasn’t anything you were expecting 

“If you really mean that, then…I think there is something I’d like.” 

Suddenly he was above you, your back now flat on the mattress as you gazed up at him 

“Would you be so kind as to let me—excuse my language—ride you until I feel better?” 

Even in moments like these they were still insistent on being proper 

It was endearing 

And of course you just had to say yes 

“I appreciate it, my dear. I’ll make sure you enjoy it as much as I do.” 

Simeon 

Ooooh booooy 

Y’know how the other characters said you never wanna see Simeon angry?

You don’t 

And he was pissed 

Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, or maybe it was some other mundane thing he couldn’t put his finger on 

But something had made today extra difficult 

All he wanted was to go home and get away from everybody but you 

And even though that time eventually came, it felt like it had been an eternity since this morning 

He didn’t even greet Lucifer when he passed 

He just wanted to get to you 

And when he did you were in for a wild ride (pun intended) 

He knew that an angel shouldn’t be thinking or desiring such things, but in his fiery state it seemed like the only thing that could help 

And it was rather easy to push the guilty thoughts away once he had his sights on you 

He was on you the second he was in the door climbing into your lap without so much as a word 

By the time you had said “hello” he was already fumbling with your pants 

“W-Woah, Simeon—! Slow down, w-what are you—“

“Just let me have this human. I need you ride you until I feel better.” 

You could practically feel the frustration radiating off of him, so you simply sat back and let him have his way. 

“Let me make one thing clear to you: I don’t want a word about this in the morning, do you understand? Good. Now behave.” 

Solomon 

Solomon was generally cheery, but today was just not his day 

He was struggling with his spells and couldn’t seem to get anything quite right

Each little mistake piled up into a mountain of frustration 

Until eventually he simply couldn’t take it anymore 

He somehow managed to make it to the end of the day, but was only hanging on by a thread 

He was so very happy to see you in his room, sitting in his bed and waiting for him 

“Oh, my love, I’m so happy to see you. You’re exactly what I need after such a terrible day.”

“Aw, well I’m glad I could help. Want to come lay down?” 

“Mm…not exactly.” 

You quirked a brow in confusion, watching as he sat down on the bed next to you 

“I’ve had a terrible frustrating time today, and I need something to…blow off steam with.” 

He pulled the covers off and straddled your waist, putting his hands on your chest and pushing you down onto your back 

“I think I’d like to ride to until I feel better. Is that alright?” 

You nodded wordlessly, watching as he stripped off his uniform jacket and then shirt 

“Good. You’re always willing to help me out, aren’t you?”

[vintagexherry]

Treasure for three days [1]

Pirate!Miguel x Princess!Reader

// Hostage, threatening, superstions, misogyny (I think), manhandling, implied forced royal marriage, kidnapping, implications of sexual acts, Ooc Miguel, Miguel is mean

---

A/N: Not sure if Im gonna turn this into a series but we'll see

---

This isn't what you meant when you wanted to be taken away from a mundane life.

"If none will provide with what I have requested. The princess will get it." He ended maliciously.

'He' being a man of height and strong structure is as of right now, holding a sharp edged sword at your throat while holding your hands behind your back.

'He' being the famous pirate, notorious for his actions and sharp with his demands.

"Let go of her! or else!-" Your father still in his sleeping clothes demanded the man who held you hostage.

"What? Make your gaurds shoot me? I have cannons standing by and men waiting, and with a simple signal, they can pillage and destroy this kingdom." He threatened as his hands grip his sword tighter, pushing it slightly closer to your throat, making you whimper.

He isn't only notorious for his actions, but his brain. He didn't get his popularity by just blowing up things to bits like any other pirate.

He plans them.

So darn good at it too.

Your brain is still wondering how'd you get into this position.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

"You keep pressing the wrong note. Once again, from the beginning."

You held back your sigh as you started to play a musical piece on the piano all over again.

You've been at this with your mentor for hours and you swear if you don't take a single break, your bones will desintegrate.

Your mentor has known you since you started etiquette training, and so on and so forth.

And as much as you knew her, she's always been nothing but strict with a permanent frown on her face, her hair tied into a tight bun, and you wonder how come she still has hair.

Once you finally pressed the right note, she nodded approvingly.

"Very good now. We'll practice this piece tomorrow again at noon. Now, if you excuse me, I'll inform your father of your progress."

Not waiting for your reply, she stood up from her chair and left you sitting by the piano.

You exhaled a breath of relief and stretched your fingers for a bit, hearing small pops here and there. You look out the large window by the wall, watching life go on the large village. You'll soon rule once your father chooses a suitable husband for you.

Speaking of your father, he entered the room, slightly surprising you with the sound of the heavy doors.

"My dear, your mentor has told me you had difficulty on today's lesson." Your father looked at you with slight disappointment in his eyes.

You sigh, you know your mentor has told me about your progress, not skipping good bits, but it just seems that your bad quality only worth focusing on.

"I know father, it's jus-"

"Then you will do well to practice even more. Remember, you're performing for tomorrow's night annual ball."

You held back a groan.

Of course, he cares about tomorrow's ball.

Nothing but an excuse to let men ask your hand for marriage and letting your father decide if their good or not. At first, you were flattered, and people would ask for your hand, but it gets tiring once you learn it is just for politics sake, nothing but lies, only wanting to feel the crown on their head.

Your father's kingdom was known to be one of the most successful of them all. Trading and economics were bountiful, and the crime rate wasn't high.

"Yes, father." You defeatedly relented while he grunts in acknowledgement and left you without another word. You just wish a humble and kind man will take you away from this mundane life.

It was finally nighttime when you got ready for bed, you got out of your bath and wore your white cotton sleep dress.

You went to one side of the bed to blow off the candle, but before you did, a sharp sword suddenly appeared behind you, The edge of it just inches away from slicing you.

"Don't move."

A deep and gruff voice commanded you, and you froze.

How did he get in? The balcony? through the door? That can't be. There's gaurds around the palace patrolling every second.

"Where is the necklace? And don't lie, or else your pretty little town gets it."

Necklace? What necklace? There's billions of different kinds of necklaces, and that's the best description he can give you?

"I-I don't know what you're t-talking about -" You winced when you felt the sword go closer to your throat.

"Not speaking, huh? Well, I can jus-"

His words were cut off when your room door busted open, revealing gaurds with their guns and your father in his sleepwear.

"So it was you who knocked out those gaurds!" Your father yelled, so that's how he got in.

The man behind you didn't waste time grabbing your hands and holding them behind your back. He took quick yet short steps to your now unlocked balcony, and he stopped by the edge.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

So now you're here, with a pirate at the edge of your balcony.

"You."

His sword left your throat, but instead, he pointed it to your father. In turn, the gaurds raise their guns higher.

"Necklace, or you won't get your little princesa back."

You looked at your father with tears brimming at the edge of your eyes, silently begging him to give what the pirate wants, but he doesn't seem to mind you.

"O' Hara." Your dad stated, starting to collect his bearings.

"That necklace is a national treasure, you can't possibly!-"

"Daily pirate life, I would say."

You paused.

That necklace?

The necklace?

You only remember bits of story of that supposed treasure, where your father had gathered a rare type of gem from a group of natives who are part of the neighbouring lands. Once gathered, the gem was then moulded and sanded to become a necklace.

"So... No necklace, then? That's alright...I'll give you three days, and if not given your kingdom, can disappear on the map."

You loudly yelp when you suddenly turn around and get carried on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He didn't waste time sheathing his sword and jumping off the balcony, which made you scream while he grips line of rope.

As O'Hara lands and runs for it, you hear gunshots and your father yelling for you.

You tried beating his back with your hands and waving your feet to at least loosen his grip, but alas, it's useless.

"Let go! Unhand me!" You shouted, but your words were going out on his ear and the other. You kept shouting for help, but you were suddenly cut off by your own yelp when you felt a large hand smack your ass.

"You pirate!" you seethed

He laughed at your reactions. "Tell me something I don't know, princesa."

His feet were moving faster than any man you've seen before, and before you know it, you arrived at the shore of the beach.

"Lift up the anchor and start sailing." He ordered as he climbed up the ship.

As he lands, with your upside down view, you see people pulling up the anchor and unfolding the sails.

"A woman on board, huh? You do know what they say about women being on a ship righ' boss?" A random crewmate noted as he took a closer look at you while your still hoisted on his shoulder.

"Quit talking and more sailing, or you're walking the plank." He threatened and the crewmate didn't waste time going back to business.

As the ship starts sailing and the sounds of gunshots and shouting were becoming more and more distant, O'Hara started walking up to a room.

As he enters, he roughly plops you down on what seems to be a bed and ties your hands and feet together.

"Stay." He simply said as he went to a desk and chair.

You scoff, as if you had a choice.

"Look, if it's the necklace you want I can just tell you where!"

He didn't say anything as he sat down and looked at various maps and papers.

"Please, I ju-"

"Shut up." His rough voice hightened in volume.

You quickly did.

"If you won't stay quiet, I can leave you naked for my men to use. So if you know what's good for you I would recommend you to zip it."

You shivered from his words.

You didn't want to anger him further, so you opted to look around the room.

More maps were scattered, and bottles of what seemed to be rum were placed neatly in shelves. Chest full of gold and jewelry were scattered everywhere. Artefacts and even bones of beasts were displayed like trophies on the wall.

"I must say, for a spoiled mocosa, you obey well." He chuckled.

You wanted to spit something back, but you're afraid that once you do, he'll keep his words.

"If your father doesn't give his precious treasure, get ready to say bye-bye to your little kingdom. So let's hope he's as obedient as you." He chuckled as he sat down, drinking from a bottle of rum.

"But if he does? You'll return me and keep the town safe away from your cannons?" You asked.

Miguel looked at you and lightly laughed.

"We'll see about that, but if he did give it, maybe I will keep your pretty little place safe and you'll be back at your papa's arms."

You don't believe him but do you have any other choice? "You....You promise?"

Miguel glanced at your shivering form, and after a deep thought, he took a quick gulp of his rum and finally spoke.

"I promise your little princess ass."

You gulp, hoping he would keep up with his words.

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Morning came by, which marks the first day of your captivity, and you really want to take a bath.

O'Hara or Miguel, which he prefers to be called. Has removed the rope around your wrists while he lets you go around the ship, even outside the captain's cabin, just as long he could keep an eye on you. He was confident enough that you won't really go anywhere.

Not that you can anyway.

With water surrounding you in every direction, you lost hope trying to escape. Maybe until they make land, but who knows.

Right now, you were at the helm of the ship looking at the distance. Miguel, on the other hand, was talking to what seemed to be his navigator.

You really hope that your father would just let go of that necklace when he had the chance. But you hope even further that Miguel will keep his words that you will return safely and the town will he out of harm's way.

"boo"

You flinched hard, hearing a deep voice right next to your ear.

And of course, it's no one other than Miguel.

"Don't think too much or else your head will explode." He chuckled while you scoffed.

You suddenly feel self aware of your state.

It's been several hours, and you're still in your sleep wear. What's worse is that your barefoot with your ankles on display.

Miguel noticed your furrowed expression and chuckled.

"Is the princess not happy with her accommodation on the Arachnid?"

The arachnid is what they call this ship. You can say it's impressive apart from the crew.

"Shower." you demanded

"A wha?-"

"I need a shower." You completed your demand.

The ship suddenly got quiet, and all chatter seemed to stop as they stared at you. The only sounds that can be heard are water crashing against the ship, the wood of floor creaking, and seagulls squaking above.

You froze from the attention, when all of a sudden, the ship was filled with laughter all around even Miguel threw his head back to laugh, and suddenly your face flushed with embarrassment . I mean, should you be embarrassed?

All you want is a shower, you feel disgusting from the dirt you have gathered for today, and a change of clothes would be nice, something or anything that would cover your ankles.

The ship's laughter died down to chuckles.

"Shower you say? The princess wants to shower." His smirk grew in size while he looked at you.

"Well... Yes, I need a shower. If not, then at least give me proper change of clothes. If you're gonna kidnap someone, at least do it right."

Your words made Miguel laughed more.

"Change of clothes, huh? Bothered your little ankles are showing?" He mocked.

"If you're bothered by that, you should see the entertainment district. Trust me, hermosa when I say they show more than their ankles." With his words, laughter grew once again on the ship, and you winced in disgust on his implications

"Speaking of the entertainment district, why don't we give it a visit while princess looks for change of clothes." With that, the crew cheered, and the navigator smirked as he directed the steering wheel to the nearest land which you assumed where the "entertainment district" is located.

You gulp.

How are you gonna survive three days with these men.

[lockedfighter]

𓍯𓂃 forgive my lack of replies & such recently ! currently on my jolly hols & celebrating my birthday today ! hope everyone’s doing well and i shall be back soonies ♡

[willowswriting]

for @dcynnight continued from here

Josephine didn't think that Teddy was clueless at all. In fact she was aware that he was quite intelligent. She never went into something without first having done her research, she was a professional after all. However he was really the only chance that she had at receiving any type of insider information. She was fully aware that they were feeding her bullshit... that was usually always the first step when the person that she sat down with knew the line of work that she was in. "Are the two of you close?" she questioned, steering it away from a business intensive conversation into one a little more casual, hoping to maybe lower his guard just a smidge.

[crimson-lair]

MBCC DATING SIM

Reasons to Date Raven

Raven had always been curious about the "MBCC Dating Sim" the staffs had invented. As the second person to participate after Cinnabar, she was eager to see what all the fuss was about. However, when you were given the task to go on a date with Raven, you were hesitant to show her the piece of paper that outlined the reasons why you should date her.

The truth was, you were afraid of what Raven might do with the information on the paper. The last thing you wanted was for her to write about it in the newspapers and cause a stir among the other Sinners. You knew that the staffs had warned you not to let Raven see the paper, but her incessant pestering made it hard to resist.

As you hesitated, considering whether or not to let Raven see the paper, you could practically see her mind working overtime, trying to figure out why you were being so cagey. In the end, you keep the paper to yourself, much to her dismay.

Reason No. 1:

Raven can always spruce up your resume for free!

Raven's face twisted into an exasperated expression as she listened to you explain that you wanted her help with your resume. "A resume?" she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief.

"After all the work I've put into crafting sensational headlines and exposing the dark secrets of the upper class, you want me to help with something as mundane as a resume?"

However, her disbelief was quickly replaced by a flicker of amusement, and she shook her head with a small grin. "What a waste of my talents. But since you asked nicely, I suppose I could help you out."

She pulled out a quill and a paper out of nowhere, scrawling down the details you gave her in quick, 'neat' strokes. "Let's see... What kind of position are you applying for? A receptionist? An administrative assistant? A... a..."

She stopped and frowned, her quill pressing down on the paper, leaving ink smudges on it. "Why can't you get a real job?"

Me: CUT! CUT! THAT'S SO OOC! DON'T BREAK THE 4TH WALL

Reason No. 2:

Raven's hair is green, and they say looking at green is good for your eyes!

Raven's confusion was visible on her face. Her long, seaweed-like dark green hair was indeed striking, but she wasn't used to receiving this much attention from someone. The intensity of your gaze made her couldn't help but wonder what was going on.

"Are you... staring at my hair?" she asked, her mouth hanging open slightly. "That's a bit intense, don't you think?"

Then, you surprised her even more when you mentioned that someone had told you that green was good for eyes. Raven raised an eyebrow, visibly confused. "What does that have to do with this?"

Suddenly, it dawned on her what you were getting at, and she couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Oh, I see."

"Well, you're in luck then," she said, sending you a wink. "My eyes are also green, so you might as well take a look at them too."

Reason No. 3:

You'll get to learn how to raise ravens!

Raven was excited to show you the pet raven that made up from her abilities. She was proud of the fact that the bird had become quite proficient in speaking and even knew how to say a few phrases like a parrot. However, her excitement quickly turned to embarrassment when the raven suddenly squawked out the words, "Lemme smash."

Raven was completely caught off guard and immediately tried to shut the bird up. "Please excuse its crude language."

"I swear I never taught it anything like that. He must have picked it up from somewhere. Please, just ignore him."

Despite her efforts, the bird continued to repeat the phrase, "Lemme smash."

"Please."

In the end, Raven had to resort to a stern glare and a "Shhhh!" to get the bird to stop.

Maybe you're not destined to raise ravens.

Image by PathtoNowhereEN on Twitter/X

Don't take the "reason no. 1" shenanigans seriously. I have a job, really. Also, I've never heard of this lemme smash bird until recently thanks to some blogs, now I know 👍 but I don't think it's funny enough when I wrote it myself 😭 HELP

Next victim is Dreya >:) but not sure if it'd be comedy like.. heh

[haichihiro]

sugar - agent whiskey

pairing: jack ‘agent whiskey’ daniels x fem reader

summary: basically porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot. guys this is my first time really writing some smut so lmk what you guys think!

word count: 3.5k

warnings: maybe a bit ooc?? idk. (18+) smut u filthy animals. unprotected p in v. (wrap it before you tap it!) language, dirty talk, rough sex, fingering, bondage and I think that's it?

Your life had been pretty mundane before you were lucky enough to get a stable job at a company called Statesman. Statesman was a company that sold the finest whiskey in the United States and just so happened to be an undercover spy organization. Life wasn’t so dull anymore. How you found yourself here was a long story but even if hard to admit– there was some pretty eye candy at your disposal. 

Your job wasn’t too tricky. You had plenty of things to do like paperwork, let's see... More paperwork– some combat training which was fun and then dealing with Mr. Agent Whiskey. You’d be lying if you said you hated it but nobody had to know how you truly felt about the matter. You liked to keep that your little secret. After all,  Jack didn’t need his ego flattered anymore than it already was. The constant smirking and cockiness that basically evaporated off of him was a lot to handle at first but you got used to it– even enjoyed it. You couldn’t help it after spending so many hours with the man, you eventually developed some affection for him. The constant flirting, the damned pet names, and that handsome face were enough to reel you in. You also admired how hard working he was, all those late nights spent together investigating for missions, you saw how he took pride in his work. 

Speaking of late nights at the office. 

Your fingers rubbed at your temple trying to soothe the dull ache that would soon become a migraine if you didn’t take a break from reading and sorting out so much paperwork. The sun had set a long time ago but you were still there. Trying to prepare for tomorrow's assignment. You weren’t alone, Jack had stayed behind as well. You could see his office clearly, the light still on, just across from where your desk was on the outside. During regular shift hours, when the building was full of life, you would exchange many words with him but on nights like these both of you were as quiet as a mouse. Sighing, you looked at your now empty coffee cup and contemplated asking Jack if he would like a cup on your way to make yourself one. You felt silly for being shy all of the sudden, you’ve known him for quite a while now but simple acts like this seemed far more intimate? 

“You got this,” you murmured quietly as you grabbed your cup and slowly walked towards his office. You could see his shadow sitting on his desk through the privacy-stained glass and your heart skipped a bit. Once you made it to his door you knocked softly before entering. 

“Come in.” you heard the muffle of that sweet southern drawl before opening his door and standing on the threshold with a small smile. God– he looked handsome. His cowboy hat was set aside on his desk, hair slightly disheveled but still as handsome as ever.

“Still here, darlin’?” he said with a cat-like grin, a small chuckle following after as he leaned back into his chair, arms crossed. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eye gave you once over before licking his lips. You nodded with a small laugh, fingers grasping your mug tightly, taking a step inside his office now. 

“Was wonderin’ if you’d like a cup as well? I don’t know about you but I needed a pick-me-up.” 

He hummed before getting up from his seat, walking around and towards you. He gently grasped your mug from your hands, you could feel his warmth just by the brush of his fingers and it sent a shiver down your spine. As he grabbed the mug he leaned back against his desk before setting it down. There was a small puzzled look on your face, lips slightly parted in loss of words before he filled the silent void for you. 

“How about we just take a breather, you and me? How’s that sound, sweetheart?” his voice sounded as gentle as ever, but you felt some tension in the air now. Maybe, it was because you didn’t know if you should sit down or not, you felt glued to your spot. 

“Sounds... Sounds fine,” you murmured almost breathlessly, maybe it was the fatigue taking over, your normal bubbly personality dying down and what was left was just bashfulness. You clasped your fingers together, a small smile on your face, your eyes diverting from his for a moment, seeing his whip and lasso still attached to his hip. You wondered why he still had those on, the day was over and this was definitely not a combat situation. You might have been staring too long because the husk of that southern accent awoke you from your thoughts.

“Like what you see, baby?” 

A small scoff left your lips, “Cocky as ever aren’t you–” your words were soon caught in your throat as you felt him grasp your wrist and pull you into him. Perfectly fitting between his legs, his free hand grasping your chin gently. You felt heat rise upon your cheeks from this newfound proximity, your feet trying to pull you back but failing due to Jack pulling you right back in. 

“What the hell!” 

“Is that any way to talk to your superior?” His voice was deep and strong. This wasn’t the sweet, playful voice you had been used to. This was different. You felt intimidated and shocked, and you felt that familiar warmth spread inside you. This was so out of the blue, you still couldn't fully register what had happened. Lips parting, words on the tip of your tongue but failing to come out. Of course, Jack was your superior, you were his right hand but the dynamic was always playful, and he was rarely ever stern with you. Your quietness wasn’t appreciated as his hand moved from the gentle grasp of your chin down to the side of your neck, forcefully pulling you closer to him. Your nose was almost touching his as he spoke. 

“Do I need to repeat myself, sugar?” 

“No– No.” you stammered out weakly, eyes staring into his own, trying to understand where this all came from. “No, what?” His voice was sharp, and mean, and it made you shiver. 

“No, sir.”

He hummed in approval, both of his hands moving to grasp both of your hands gently. The contrast between rough and gentle demeanor was driving you insane– you loved it. He stood up off his desk, hands still holding yours as he stared down at you. “Tell me to stop.” He whispered, eyes searching yours for any signs of discomfort, reluctance, disgust, anything. He was asking for permission and it made you feel safe. He felt safe. Of course, that was the bare minimum but it meant the world to you, especially coming from someone you had admiration for. A smile formed on your face before you spoke. 

“It’s okay Jack.” You whispered, body subconsciously leaning towards him more, feeling his warmth and wanting more. You could smell his scent, aroma filled with his cologne, smoke, and whiskey. It was addicting. He nodded, humming in satisfaction before he abruptly swung you around. Now you were in front of his desk and him behind you. 

“Hm, I don’t think it’s okay at all, darlin’. Every day I come to work, here you are all dolled up and I’m just dying to have a taste.” His hand pushed at your back, your hands flying forward bracing yourself against the desk. Sliding his hand further down, pressing against your spine making you press your body fully onto the desk. Your cheek flushed against the wood, hands flat on the surface. Your chest heaved, feeling your breath pick up, you could feel yourself already soaking wet for him. 

“And these dresses? Oh, babydoll.” He said with a ‘tsk’ hand grasping the ends of your dress and hiking it up. You were definitely glad you wore some cute underwear today. You heard a small groan behind you, trying to tilt your head to see him but failing because of his hand that had trailed down to keep you in place. A whimper slipped past your lips as you felt his hand cup your sex. His thumb pressed against the folds, feeling your arousal coat your underwear. Your thighs closed in on his hand from the blissful feeling. A rough ‘No’ was heard from behind you, his knee pressing between your legs and spreading them apart to gain more access. 

His body leaned over your own, his other hand pressed beside your head now bracing himself above you. His fingers moved your panties aside, fingers generously circling around that spot you needed the most attention from. He alternates between a slow pace, to fast, to slow, and it is beginning to drive you insane. Tears brimming your eyes, eyes lashes wet, you're pretty sure your mascara was running down your face. A complete mess under his touch. Then suddenly you felt a finger pressed inside you, filling up that empty ache. 

“Mm, please…” you gasped out almost pathetically, already drunk on his simple touches. 

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll give you what you need. You’ve been so good after all.” 

Another finger was added. Then another. Three thick fingers filled you almost too perfectly. There was a slight tinge of pressure but you invited the pain. You couldn’t help but circle your hips around his fingers, adjusting to the feeling of being so full of him. It was just his fingers and it had you unfolding before him already. All you could hear was your heavy panting, small whimpers of pleasure, and his sultry voice in the quiet building. This was your place of work, where you now had a man plunging his fingers inside your pussy at a delicious pace. Now every time you’d walk in for work, you’d remember that feeling and the thought made you even wetter. 

You began to feel that pleasurable release build up inside of you, your eyes were beginning to flutter closed before you felt your hair being tugged, craning your face to look upon the man before you. 

“Eyes on me, sugar.” His voice rasped, his lips ghosting over your jaw before kissing it gently. Your eyes stayed open after that, trying your best to remain eye contact as he thrust his fingers at a rapid pace now. You mewled at the feeling, that delicious build-up was near and your walls clenched around his fingers tightly. All you could really focus on was the feeling, the wet noises of your arousal, and his deep voice littering you with praise. 

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

“Look at you. Such a pretty little mess from just my fingers, huh?”

“Scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar.” And then you felt it hit you, your legs shook and your thighs desperately wanted to press together from the overwhelming feeling but were unable to because of  Jack’s knee keeping you spread open for him. His name tumbled from your lips, a small whimper following as your hips circled and rode out your high. 

He pulled away slowly, his fingers leaving your wet hole, as he stood up towering over your body. You slowly turned yourself around, knees wobbling, as you leaned up against his desk. Your eyes couldn't help but wander down and see the large bulge straining against his tight denim jeans. You watched as one of his hands, you guessed the one that was just in you– fingers glistening with reminisce of your release, grasped his belt buckle and began to undo it swiftly. 

“Hm, I think you're ready for real fun now, darlin’.” He said, a devilish grin gracing his face as he walked back to his desk chair. You noticed he was still holding his belt, his whip still attached to it. You followed suit as you heard him tell you– “Come here.” in a gentle tone. Your legs felt so weak, still shaken from your last orgasm but your arousal was still there. You wanted more– needed more. 

He looked undeniably sexy sitting before you. Thick thighs spread wide for you allowing you to stand between them. “Take it off, sweetheart.” He said, eyeing your dress as he went for his tie loosening it. Your hands pulled your dress off, leaving you in your undergarments. Your chest heaved up and down from your soft breaths, fingers grasping the back of your bra as you unclasped it boldly. It was silly how heat filled your cheeks as your chest was now bare before his eyes after what just happened minutes before. Now fully naked before him after pulling your last garment off you stepped closer to Jack. His arm wrapped around your waist pulling you to straddle his lap, the roughness of his jeans scraping against your warm skin. 

Your eyes stared back at his brown ones, a small smile grazing your lips as your delicate fingers grasped his face. Noses brushed against each other as a small giggle left your lips making a smile etched on his face. Finally, your lips met his soft ones in a gentle kiss. His mustache tickles your upper lip but you didn't mind one bit. Foreheads pressed together as the kiss broke, breathing each other in as you caressed his jaw sweetly. 

“To answer your question from earlier– I do like what I see,” you murmured upon his lips, pressing them against his once more for another quick kiss. He chuckled, one that was deep and rumbled in his chest. Biting your lip to contain yet another smile from that sweet sound. 

“Such a good girl, huh?” his hand pressing into the small of your back, pushing you closer to his body if it was even possible. Your eyes fell curious on his other hand that still grasped his belt. Holding it in front of you, his other hand now grasping your wrists together, you had an idea where this was going and weren't mad about it one bit. Your heartbeat quickened as he began to wrap the belt around your wrists tightly. “So good.” His murmured praise made your cheeks flush and your cunt drip arousal down your legs. Once the belt was secure, your eyes fell down as you watched him pull his cock free from his jeans. 

Fuck. He was huge. How was he even hiding that thing in his pants? It was long and the girth was thick. His hand stroked his length a couple times, thumb grazing his tip that leaked pre-cum. He saw that surprised look on your face, making him grin and a small chuckle leaves his lips. You noticed he held his whip still, now setting it on his desk. “Maybe, we'll use that next time.” You heard him murmur which perked up your ears. Thinking about the next time made your heart flutter. 

“You gonna take it like the good girl you are, hm?” So enthralled by him, your parted lips failed to answer him as you watched him begin to push his tip inside you. Suddenly you felt a sting along your ass from him slapping it, the skin beginning to turn red from the impact. A loud gasp left your lips from the action, your bound hands resting along one of his shoulders trying to find purchase. 

“Answer when I talk to you, darlin’. Understood?” He said, his voice rough as he plunged the rest of himself inside you. 

“Fuck! Yes.. I’ll be good!” You whimpered out from the sudden fullness. It was like the wind got knocked out of you. Your walls clenched around his cock tightly, trying to get used to this new feeling. His hands rested on your hips, rocking them back and forth slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Once the small sting began to vanish and was now filled with mostly undying pleasure, your pace began to pick up. 

Your bound wrists went over his hand, fingers grasping the nape of his neck as you rutted your hips into him. His lips attacked the side of your neck as you swayed your hips against him, moaning and panting his name like a song. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” he grunted, his hot breath fanning over your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers still grasped your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips helping you keep your steady pace. “Doing so well, taking all of me. Knew you could do it. That sweet cunt was made for me, wasn’t it?” And it truly felt like it did, it fit so well inside you, snug, and hit all the right places. 

That familiar sound of your wetness and skin connecting on skin filled the room along with heavy breathing and Jack’s foul mouth. 

“Yes! Mm.. just for you.” You moaned, hips stuttering as you felt that heat pool into your core, that delicious build-up close once more. Your chin was able to rest on top of his head from this angle and you rutted into him. His face was pressed into your breasts, lips latching onto one of your lips, sucking and kissing the soft flesh. His hands gripped your hips roughly, stalling your movements before he lifted his own and started thrusting into your hole at a killing pace. A scream left your lips, a shriek from the sudden brutal pace as you held onto him. Your walls began to clench around him, your orgasm almost reaching its peak. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?”

“God, yes... Please.”

“I’m close, baby. Come with me, sweetheart–” he grunted as he continued his brutal pace. You whined his name, like a plea, as you pressed yourself back down on him, circling your hips and bouncing on his cock. Your walls clenched down on him like a vice grip as you came, mewling in bliss as your head fell against his shoulder. Your thighs shook as your body slumped into his. His hips began to stutter and with a few more hard thrusts his seed filled your swollen hole. His hands guided your hips in a lazy circle against his cock, riding out his high, the actions made you cry out from the sensitivity. 

“I know, sugar. Sh, I got ya.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes. His cock is still buried inside you as he unravels your wrists. The skin was red and swollen but you didn’t care. You liked that he marked you in some way. He placed gentle kisses along your face as he moved your hair away from your face. 

“Did so well for me. Like you always do,” he whispered against your lips before connecting them with your own in a lazy but sweet kiss. And that phrase had so much meaning to it. You have always been by his side since you got hired here. Every mission, every wound was tended to, the hardships and all that shitty paperwork. You were there. And after tonight, the two of you changed. A fire was ignited and those shied feelings now were in the open. 

                                    ────────────

Of course, this would happen to you. After last night you went home, of course fully satisfied, and slept like a fucking baby halfway through your important briefing for the next mission that you were supposed to be preparing for the night before. You were in a frantic mess all morning, hurrying to get ready and grab all your shit before bolting out the door and driving to work. Your mind was still in a haze from the night before and your cheeks flushed as you stepped into the building and headed toward the elevator. The top floor is where the magic happens. Literally. 

You took a deep breath before exhaling, trying to ease your anxiety from being late and elevate the embarrassment you felt for being late. It wasn’t like you. But of course, one single touch from that goddamn agent that you are spiraling. You decided that you’d put the blame on the handsome man. After all, he did fuck you till you were seeing stars. 

As you walked in, a fellow coworker eyed you with a knowing look. ‘You’re in for it’ her face said as he nodded towards the briefing room where now only Jack Daniels himself sat. You sighed, walking in and shutting the door behind you. Setting your folder down on the table you clasped your hands in front of you, finding it hard to look at him at this point. Before you could get a word out, that familiar southern drawl filled the air.

“Tsk, and I thought you were a good girl? Looks like that reward got to your head, sugar.” He chuckled with a shake of his head, grinning at the way your cheeks turned red. A little embarrassed that your coworkers were right outside as he said those words. 

“Jack— I'm sorry really—“ you began to say before he shook his head once more with a whistle. His figure stood up from his seat as he began to stalk over you like prey. 

“Y’know actions speak louder than words, beautiful. I’m gonna need you to show me just how sorry you are, baby.” He finished as he stood in front of you now, toe to toe, a finger grasping your chin. At that moment you truly realized just how different things would be. 

[poetryandfluffycats]

Hi! Can I request a one shot with an afab!reader riding sub!himeru while praising and being all sweet and comforting because he was stressed? Thank you in advance 💕

A/N: HELLO OKAY never in my life did i think id write this much for himeru of all people but uh, it is what it is i guess?? i went off the rails with plot

Pairing: HiMERU x fem!reader

Content: As Crazy:Bs producer, you have lots of duties that tire you out so when your day off does cone you look forward to taking a much needed nap. The world has unfortunately got other plans for you, however.

Warnings: NSFW, porn with plot, dry humping, oral over clothes(m receiving), riding, kind of sub himeru, minimal amount of biting, messy making out, shared orgasms, mentions of depressive tenancies, rinne + niki have screentime, lots of praise and comfort, ooc himeru(?) he breaks character like once

Words: 5.6k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Ring, ring, ring. The phone stored safely in your pocket was vibrating, alerting you to the incoming call you were receiving. With a sigh, you stopped in your tracks and pulled out the device to check the caller ID.

A part of you hoped it was a scam caller rather than a member of the unit you produced. Not that you didn't like speaking to the members of Crazy:B, you enjoyed their company more than anything! The reason was that today was your off day and you had hoped to spend it catching up on your missed class work and then sleeping for the rest of the afternoon, not dealing to whatever new problem the boys had encountered.

Luck wasn't on your side today, unfortunately. The caller ID read 'Rinne Amagi', the smirk of the infamous redheaded idol staring you down through his contact photo, as if taunting you to get ready for whatever nonsense was about to spill from his mouth.

Another, much longer, sigh left your throat as you tapped the answer button. Duty calls, you supposed. Surely whatever he wanted couldn't have been too hard for you to handle. "Hello?"

"(name)! My dearest lil' producer, hows ya day off? Doin' alright without me? Missin' my handsome face?" Rinnes voice was as smug and as loud as ever through the speaker, so much so that you found yourself pulling your phone away from your ear so you didn't go completely deaf.

His cheeky tone didn't go unnoticed by you, and you let out a scoff at his sheer childishness. "Fine, yes, and no. Don't butter me up, what do you want?"

"Straight to the point, I like that in a woman!" There was a laugh cut off by a loud cough and 'ahem', Niki most likely, before the man on the other end continued speaking. "Ah, well, ya see. HiMERU didn't show up to practice today, and he ain't answering when we call"

Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull you nearly saw your brain. Of course on the only day you had off in forever would be the day Rinne decided to come and give you an unskipable side quest. And for such a mundane task as well, something he could have easily done himself if he bothered to get off his ass. Seriously, how typical.

"We were hopin' ya could go and get 'im for us? Since ya know, yer the most wonderful producer in the whole world and ya love me so much"

"Sure I do... and why can't you go get him?"

"I got shit to do! Leader stuff, important stuff! Ya wouldn't understand. I'm real hard at work here-ow! Niki! Stop hittin' me dammit! That fuckin' hurt! Whatdaya mean 'don't cuss'? She ain't a baby!"

The line went silent for a few seconds, the only sounds going between the two of you being the muffled groans and slaps of Rinne and Niki fighting like toddlers. You swore you could also hear Kohakus sighs of disappointment from across the practice room.

It was a mintute or two before Rinne came back on the line, breathing heavier than usual and voice more strained. Niki 1, Rinne 0. "Got no time left ta talk! Go find that bastard and bring 'im back here, alright? I'm countin' on ya!"

"Wait, I never said I would-"

"Fuck! Shit! Niki, let go of my phone! No! Don't bite me!"

"(name)? Its Niki! I'll make you dinner if you go and get HiMERU-"

"NIKI!"

Click, line dead.

Your phone screen was now black, Rinnes smirking face replaced by your dumbfounded reflection staring back at you. Typical of you to become involved in Crazy:Bs shenanigans even when you weren't in the same room as them. That nap you had longed so gracelessly for was seemingly drifting further and further from your grasp, all thanks to the laziness of your idols. How wonderful

No use trying to escape your faith now, unless you wanted to endure the wrath of the group when they forgot the routine for the next live due to not practising at all. You did a 180 turn on your heels and began walking back in the direction of the dorms. When people asked what you did on your day off, maybe you could say you exercised?

/----------

"HiMERU? Are you in there? The guys want you at practice"

HiMERUs apartment door stared you down like a lion stalking its pray, mocking you like this was some sort of sick game. "Gonna come in?" It seemed to ask, or maybe that was just some voices in your head, "or are you just gonna stand there like a weirdo?"

You'd really outdone yourself this time. Half an hour later and you had searched half the school for the blue haired man. Before coming to his doorstep you had come to two different conclusions to his absence. Either, he had gained the ability to teleport and was somewhere on the moon, or, he had died and you had lost one of your best idols. The former, unlikely, but knowing the strange man HiMERU was it wasn't entirely impossible. The latter? You sure hoped not.

Despite your wishes of being able to go home and take a well deserved nap, you held your hand in a fist and knocked on the door once more, louder and harder this time. "I swear to God if you don't open this door I will break it down HiMERU! This is ridiculous! I could have been relaxing right now if it wasn't for you!"

As you spoke, there was a shuffling sound from inside the room, accompanied by a few soft thump-thumps of feet against the floor. Finally, the door opened, revealing the man you had been searching for.

"You are giving HiMERU a headache"

HiMERU stood before you in all his glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips and a long sleeved shirt that due to the nature of his pants, showed off his mid-drift. Blue hair was a flattened mess atop his head, and you noted that he looked far less formal than usual. You had to mentally slap yourself before you stared for too long. "(name), you are aware you are not a wild animal, correct? HiMERUs door does not require barking to open"

"Practice, now. I don't care if you've got a headache or if you're in a mood, Rinne wants you there now" You ignored his snide remark, crossing your arms over your chest in attempt to look more authoritative. It didn't seem to work all that well, however, as HiMERUs facial expression remained unchanged.

"What if HiMERU had a lady friend over? Or perhaps a gentleman friend? Such loud noise would have disturbed imitate times with a special friend. What if HiMERU had been having some fun with his body?"

The urge to punch the man in front of you was stronger than ever before. Was he really trying to gaslight you into believing that he couldn't practice because he had been having sex? HiMERU of all people? You doubted he even had a dick, let alone someone to get it wet. Anyone else, sure, you could believe that. Not HiMERU, no matter how good looking the media made him out to be he was still a whackjob. Whackjobs didn't have sex.

"Were you?"

"No. HiMERU was reading a nice book and drinking some lovely herbal tea, he was simply making a point that you should be more considerate of others"

"I don't care-"

"You don't care about HiMERU? How crude, is this how CosPro treats its idols now? HiMERU will not be attending practice, he has other duty's to attend too"

The audacity of this man. Here you were, trying to be as nice as possible, just trying to get him to do his job, and he can't even do that! How much of an ego could one man have? Sure, you weren't perfect yourself, but at least you did what was expected of you, like right now even when you weren't meant to be working!

You could feel a vein pulsating in your forehead, your patience wearing thinner and thinner by the second. If you had to stand here for any long, you swore you would explode in several tiny pieces. You had to keep your composer if you wanted to keep your job, however, so you chose to remain silent instead of ripping him a new one. You narrowed your eyes at him, shooting lazer beams through his body with your pupils, praying to whatever God was out there that it would scare him into listening to you.

HiMERU seemed to get the memo, finally, his lips forming into a massive pout that nearly hit the floor, a bad look on the usually stoic idol you noted. "As you wish, producer. Please, come inside and wait whilst HiMERU gets ready" He moved out of the way of the door, outstretching his arm in invitation for you to come inside.

You took the invitation, kicking your shoes off and bowing your head slightly as you walked inside. You had never been inside HiMERUs apartment before, besides on the off occasion when you dropped him off. Considering who HiMERU was, a prim and proper diva who seemed to think he was far better than you, you fully expected for his apartment to match his personality. Clean, neat, not a speck of dirt on the ground. Maybe a few plants here and there, real plants that were watered everyday and cared for to the full extent.

As you soon came to realise, you had been wrong. Dead wrong.

"Holy shit..."

HiMERUs apartment was the polar opposite of what you thought it would be. The lights were off, curtains pulled shut, and a musky smell of tea bags long gone cold lingered in the air. A messily made futon laid out in the middle of the floor, blankets and pillows thrown atop it like it was a fort for children rather than a grown mans bed. Finishing touches to the pigsty of a room were the dirty clothes scattered across the floor-some of which resembling his idol uniform, but you couldn't quite tell through the mess-and a book opened in the middle of the floor.

"HiMERU would prefer if you kept your opinions to yourself" His monotone voice hissed from behind you, a sigh evident in his words. "Take a seat anywhere you'd like, be careful not to trip on anything"

How could he be so relaxed? You'd been in many idols rooms before, seen many of them doing things you hadn't expected before, some of which made you want to bleach your eyes out thinking back at them. But none of them had ever been this messy, you didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or just stand there in shock.

"I... huh? Is it always like this?" You squeaked out, eyes trained on HiMERU as he walked past you and into the kitchen, picking up a mug from the counter and taking a long sip.

"No, not usually" He admitted, leaning down with his elbows against the countertop and staring at you with that unreadable expression of his. Dead cold blue eyes trailed up and down your figure, and you almost felt as if he were dissecting your soul. "Does it bother you? Are you offended? Does mess make you upset? Are you going to cry?"

"What? No!" You shook your head. "I'm just surprised is all"

"A crying woman in HiMERUs home, that would be a sight to behold, wouldn't it? Please, sit down, HiMERU will be ready in a moment"

You were at a complete loss for words. The longer you spent with HiMERU the more he confused you, like a never ending puzzle that only got harder the more you tired to solve it, or a board game where every round new rules that contradicted the old rules were added. Was there even a word to describe such a man? A person whose identity was so clouded and muddled it was impossible to grasp them?

Trying to guess what HiMERU was thinking about at any given time made you want to jump off a cliff, live, and then jump off another cliff for good measure. You were going to get Rinne back for this, he owed you big.

Taking a seat on the floor next to his futon, you crossed your legs over one another and watched as the blue haired man pottered around his dorm. He seemed to be moving in a daze, similar to a zombie or a sleepwalker. He would take a sip of tea for a moment, then stop to put away a dish, then drink some more tea, then inspect one of the plants on the counter, then back to his tea, repeat until you found yourself even further in bewilderment.

"You're weird" You commented, resting your chin on your knees and bouncing your heels up and down. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what, (name)?" HiMERU raised an eyebrow, finishing off his tea and placing his mug in thesink, now moving to rummage through a pile of clothes.

"I don't know, like... drugged or something? Like a dead man walking? Stranger than usual I guess" Your eyes darted from him to the book laying on the ground. It was a normal looking book, white cover with some black writing on it, thick but still slim enough to be a causal read. "Do you like reading?"

A small laugh came from HiMERUs lips at the question. "That book is not very good. The information inside is not factual and rather silly, things about mediation and healing your inner child. An interesting read, but a waste of HiMERUS time. He does not believe in those things"

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows now. "Then why buy the book?"

"HiMERU has had a rough week, he wanted to indulge in some self-care. Alas, you and your begging interrupted him"

You had half a mind to snap at him for that comment, but you bit your own tongue before the insults could come pouring out, instead opting to obverse his actions. Having been in the industry for awhile, you were aware of the basic signs of burnout, and HiMERU was the poster child for it

Dark circles under his eyes, sluggish movement, a general state of being out-of-character, the sudden urge to skip training and sleep instead. It wasn't unusual for idols to suffer from fatigue and stress, it came with the job after all, but HiMERU had never been one to let his emotions get in the way of work. For him to be this out of it, it was concerning to say the least.

"Are you okay?"

HiMERU froze mid action, hands hovering over a t-shirt in the pile of clothes, staring at you like you'd just asked for a thousand dollars. "Excuse me?"

"I asked if you were okay, are you?" You stood up from your spot on the floor, brushing the dirt from your pants as you slowly approached him, snatching the book from the ground and reading over the blurb. "I didn't take you as the type to read these types of books, you must be really stressed to pick this up"

"Before you were yelling at HiMERU to go to practice, now you are acting concerned for him? HiMERU said, he has had a tough week, that is all"

"There has to be some way I can help you. Look, you don't have to go if you don't want to, I'll tell Rinne you were feeling ill" You opened up the book, scanning through the pages and reading over some of the content.

The language was a tad confusing, obviously made by someone with a higher knowledge in psychology than you, but it was still readable. "Some of this actually looks helpful, maybe we should try some of it? Like, I could give you a massage, or I could-"

"Turn to page 77, please"

You nodded, turning to the page in question. On top of the page were two separate drawings, one a diagram of a mans body and the other a sketch of a man and a woman in the classic missionary position. You could feel your face growing hot with embarrassment at the images, but continued on reading the page. Underneath the drawings were a few paragraphs of text, some certain words having arrows pointing to different parts of the pictures.

Taking a large gulp, you shut the book and looked back up at HiMERU, pupils wide as plates from what you just read. You noticed that he was closer now, only a few mere inches away from your body. Had be always been this tall, this handsome? You couldn't recall.

"HiMERU? I don't understand, these are pornographic, what are you talking about?-"

"Page 77, healing through sex. It says here that orgasms can be a natural stress reliever, and that regular intercourse is healthy for a persons body and mind" One hand came up to brush your cheek, thumb stroking up and down in a way that made your heart flutter, "You wish for HiMERU to go to practice, yes? Then he expects something in return"

His lips were on yours before you had time to blink. You dropped the book in your hands, it hitting the ground with a loud 'bang!' and laying open on page 77. Wet lips moved against your own, hand the once stroked your cheek now moving downwards to grip your waist, spinning the two of you around to press you against the countertop.

What little emotion HiMERU showed in his face, his kiss made up for. It was filled with desire, passion, lust, all the things that were so silent but still screamed the same three words. 'I want you'.

He pulled away before you had a chance to deepen the kiss, the both of you panting with your lips swollen and glossy with each other's saliva. A lewd sight, sure, but who else was there to see? No one, just the two of you in the dimly lit apartment.

"HiMERU-no, I need you to help me. Please, please help me" His voice was barely a whisper, so quiet you had to strain your ears to hear him. His desperation was all the same, however, and it was enough to make your brain go fuzzy. "I don't like to beg, you know, but you're making me lose it"

If you had have been standing on a tightrope, that would have been what broke the string holding you up. Those damn eyes, once filled like a endless void of indifference now spilling with want and need, the need for you to make him feel good, the need for you to relieve his tension by fucking him. How could you deny him?

"Let's move to the futon, yeah?" You pecked his lips once more, watching as his eyes lit up like a puppies. "We can take it slow, if you'd like"

The smile that overtook HiMERUs face almost made your heart burst wide open. "Yes... thank you, (name)"

You wiggled out of his hold, taking his hand and guiding him slowly to the futon on the floor. He sat down first, scooting backwards until he was sat just below the pillow, stretching his legs outwards to allow you to climb in between his legs and straddle him.

It was a position you never thought you'd find yourself in, and yet here you were, tugging at the hem of HiMERUs shirt and pulling it over his head. The skin underneath was pale and cold to the touch, causing goosebumps to creep up your arms. You ran your fingertips up and down his chest, lingering on the dip of his collarbone and the ridges of his ads. They were only little, like tiny hills on the plains of his over wise flat stomach, but they were sexy all the same.

HiMERU watched you with half-lidded eyes, glazed over and unfocused. His lips stayed parted, a whine leaving his throat each time your fingers traced over his skin. You leaned down to kiss him again, this time wasting no time in plunging your tongue straight inside the wetness of his mouth, sucking on his own tounge and feeling around on the inside of his cheeks.

HiMERUs hips buckled upwards to meet yours, earning a moan from you and a louder whine from him. His sweatpants strained with the growing budge in his crotch, poking against your thigh and leaving a small wet patch on your skin from the pre-cum leaking through. He must have been super desperate.

"(name)~" HiMERU whimpered as you pulled away, a sticky line of spit still connecting the two of you. You licked the excess saliva from your lips whilst a grin spread wide across your face. "Please, (name). HiMERU would you to-ah!-"

His pleas quickly transformed into moans as you rolled your hips against his, savouring in the pleasure of your clothed crotch rubbing on his now fully erect cock, The friction was like heaven, and the fabric of your shorts didn't do much to hide the wetness gushing out from your panties. You'd probably need to buy new ones after this, you thought, but that was a problem for future you.

HiMERUs hands flew up to hold your waist, guiding you backwards and forwards over his budge and rutting his hips in time with yours, the two of you humping like horny dogs in heat. A light pink flush had spread all the way from his cheeks to his ears, down his neck and even to the tips of his shoulder blades, the most sinful look of pleasure on his face as he threw his head back on the pillow.

"Do you like when I do this? You seem to be really enjoying yourself" You cooed, leaning down to suck a lovebite onto the underside of his jaw. "You're pretty, you know? Real pretty, real handsome for me"

The only response you got from HiMERU was another moan, louder and raspier than the others. The sounds made you clench around thin air and your thighs quiver with anticipation. Each time your core met his covered tip you could feel him twitch and throb beneath you, and every time the feeling had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Like an awaiting forest fire, the atmosphere was getting hotter by the second, the heat of both your body's pressed together creating a sensation indescribable.It was the most bliss you had ever experienced and you were yet to even be undressed. You were panting, HiMERU was panting, sweat was forming on your forehead and dripping down onto HiMERUS bare chest.

"More, HiMERU wants more" The man below you whined, fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips to leave tiny marks for later. "HiMERU wants you to fuck him, don't make him-augh!-say it again!"

"Fuck.." You breathed, bracing yourself by placing your palms flat against his chest. You lifted your hips up, giving the both of you a short break to catch your breath before you reached downwards to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants. With a tiny bit of a struggle they were off, revealing the dark blue boxers beneath that were nearly bursting from the strain of his erection. He was huge. Certainly bigger than you had seen in porn anyway. "I-, fuck"

Your loss for words assumed HiMERU, who took a deep, shaky exhale before speaking again, that desperate tone still clear as day in his voice. "Are you impressed? Is HiMERU that big?"

"Yeah... it is. I can't wait to have it inside me"

You purred out your words, moving down to rest on his thighs rather than his hips, your face in eye-line with his throbbing budge when you leaned down. The entire front of the fabric was wet with pre-cum, it having spread all over the area due to his impossibly long length. Your lips came into contact with the tip, your tongue swirling around and lapping up the sticky stains.

It pulsated at your touch. HiMERU let out a groan of pleasure as you continued your ministrations, kissing, licking, and sucking him through the thin cotton. One vein that you could feel was particularly sensitive, causing HiMERU to basically jump each time you grazed your teeth over it.

"Wait! No, stop! HiMERU will cum if you keep doing that!" The bluenette suddenly cired out, his legs kicking you in the sides as he tired to pull you off. Of course, you obliged, but not without giving one last farewell lick to his tip. You sat up on his thighs and tilted your head to the side, studying his expressions carefully and awaiting his next words. "HiMERU would like to cum inside. He thinks that would be the best way to get rid of his stress, not finishing in his pants like a pathetic teenage boy"

You nodded, "so you want me to...?"

"Sit on it" You'd never seen HiMERUs puppy dog eyes until now. There was such a longing in them, desires hidden in the ocean of his irises that only you could bring out in the moment. "Ride HiMERU, use him like a chair. HiMERU just wants to feel you"

Denying him would be a criminal felony. Climbing back to straddle his hips once more, you grabbed a hold of his waistband, gently pulling it downwards to finally free his cock from its confinements. Once the fabric was completely removed and his cock had sprung free you tossed the underwear away somewhere in the room to be dealt with later.

To say the least, HiMERU was large. Slender, and long, with balls that were tight and full against his shaft, pent up and waiting to be emptied inside your cunt.

The vein you had been nibbling on was a blue colour that rivalled his hair and ran down and up the underside of his cock, stopping just below his head. Speaking of the head, it was glowing red, dripping with arousal. You were pround of yourself for having caused that kind of reaction, especially when it came from an idol you knew as emotionless and cold hearted. Your own heart pounded inside your ribcage as you began to strip yourself down. You tired to make a show of it, pulling your shirt over your head in slow movements that you prayed to God looked seductive rather than silly.

As if he could read your mind, "You look beautiful" HiMERU barely whispered the words, but they were still heard all the same by you. You thought he might be staring at your breasts, or at the spot between your legs as you removed your shorts and panties, but no. Instead of your body, his blue gaze was solely fixated on your face.

"Thank you, you are too. Beautiful, I mean" A small smile graced your face as you thanked him. With your shorts now gone and your pussy exposed to the air, you lifted your hips once more, slinging your entrance with the very tip of HiMERUS cock. "Are you ready?"

"HiMERU has been called many things before when he has been stressed. Annoying. Selfish. A nuisance. Never beautiful"

You didn't have much time to respond, or even react to his comment before a hand was on your shoulder, pushing you down and impaling you on his cock. It hurt, but not in the way that made you want to scream and cry, but more so in the way that made your walls clench around him, your eyes roll into the back of your head and your toes curl in your socks.

He filled you up to the brim, tip poking against your cervix and each vein and ridge moulding your walls into the prefect fit for him. A raspy whimper left your throat as you adjusted to his size. HiMERU allowed you to take your time despite the twitch of his hips just begging for any sort of friction, instead opting to rub gentle shapes into your shoulders while the both of you huffed and heaved.

"HiMERU is sorry, he couldn't help himself" HiMERUs lust clouded eyes avoided your own, staring at the wall behind you instead. "You won't judge HiMERU if he finishes early, will you?"

You shook your head, grinding down on his pelvis to give him and yourself some of that desperately needed pleasure. "Not at all. You're amazing, so good. You fill me so well, I don't think I'll last long either. And even if we don't, we can always go again"

A faint nod from HiMERU was all you needed before you lifted your hips, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself as you released him from your velvet walls, leaving only the tiniest amount of the tip in before slamming your hips back down. A loud "plop!" was made as your body smashed against his, the heat from your shared arousals filling your brain with no thoughts other than HiMERU.

HiMERU. HiMERU. HiMERU. HiMERU!

You set a gentle, but fast pace, bouncing your hips up and down in smooth rhythm, sounds of your wet cunt squelching and sloshing mixing in with the groans leaving HiMERUs lips. Him inside you felt like heaven. Hot and sweaty heaven. Your walls dragged along his cock like the prefect fleshlight, sending waves of electrical pleasure down his spine and all the way to the very tips of his toes.

Althought a little bit more stable, you were in a similar state to HiMERU. Each time you slammed back down onto him it felt as if all the nerves in your body were being twisted, pulled, and knotted in a way that had that oh so familiar warmth beginning to pool in your belly.

Praises spilled from your mouth, coating the inside of HiMERUs brain with words of encouragement and affection rather than whatever he had been feeling before. Right now, in this moment, you would have been lying if you said you didn't care for him, and not just in the way you would care for the other idols of Crazy:B.

One particularly hard bounce had you crying out, "HiMERU! H-hey, you know your a good boy right? So good to me, gonna make me cum, huh? You wanna cum too? I wanna see your pretty face when you're filling me up"

HiMERU only grunted in response, but you could tell your words had worked when he started thrusting his hips to meet yours. You could tell he was close, too, his eyes had become so dilated that his irises were only a thin string of blue around his pupils.

You felt bad for his neighbours, no, actually, you felt bad for anyone within 10ft of the building. The walls of the apartment were basically shaking from the sheer noise of you both, and what happened next didn't help that much.

HiMERU gripped your hips, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks, then pulled you flush against him. Chest to chest, skin to skin, you were as close as two people could possibly be as your lips found his in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. Your teeth clashed together in an ugly way, tongues went anywhere but where they were supposed to and if your younger self could see you now, she'd probably throw up at how your saliva dissolved into each others.

"(name!)"

"HiMERU!"

You weren't sure who came first, or even how long the two of you spent whining and moaning into each others mouths, but you felt HiMERUs seed filling you up, dripping out of you and for sure staining the futon. Your own orgasm washed over you like a wave, a tsunami wave that destroyed cities and uprooted trees, leaving you breathless and trembling atop HiMERU.

It took you a few mintutes to come down from your high, since your vision was clouded with white spots and you could almost feel the tiny sperm cells swimming around trying to reach your uterus. Thank God you were on the pill, over wise you would have been in deep shit. One day, maybe, if whatever just happened was to happen again, but that wasn't something you liked to think about.

"Are you alright?" You whispered as you pulled yourself off of HiMERUs now softening cock, laying down on your side besides him. "How do you feel?"

The man in question seemed to be in a daze, staring at the ceiling with no thoughts in his eyes. You poked his cheek with a finger, quickly jolting him back to reality as a smile tugged at his lips.

"HiMERU feels good, thank you" The smile on his face was genuine. Sometimes you questioned whether HiMERU was real or not, whether his personality was as fake as your gut told you it was. Here, you could see how your gut was wrong. That smile was real, this feeling was real. "HiMERU feels he should get stressed out more often, no?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your bare chest, "Don't push it, I won't help you if your doing it intentionally!"

"Then a date? HiMERU will pay, all you will need to do is be pretty for him"

You smiled back at him, "I'd love too"

You spent awhile on that futon, just chatting and staring into each others eyes like any old couple would do. When you did leave, it wasn't without a goodbye kiss and a promise to meet up again soon.

And, you would've let Rinne off the hook for making you go over there in the first place, if it wasn't for the message you received later that night.

Rinne: what position he put u in??

[juunobox]

──★ ˙ ̟ "PERFECT TIMING!"

you're nikolai's intimate friend (nikolai gogol x gn! reader) and he wants to 'free' you

summary : you're nikolai's friend and he wants to give you a taste of freedom (which of course means, he wants to kill you) ur like fyodor to him in this fic, kinda warnings : implied mental disorders, graphic depictions of violence, suicidal ideation, assisted suicide. you have a complicated relationship w him please do not take this seriously, fr i wrote this for coping purposes lol and sorry if it's kinda OOC this is the first ever nikolai x reader i wrote... dont beat my ass and english isnt my native i suck at grammar

Your days has always been mundane. You woke up and work on your laptop all day, then go back to sleep. However, there was a moment when your days became a bit more colorful, thanks to Nikolai's presence. He's an eccentric man who dressed like a clown and spoke theatrically. How did you meet someone like him in the first place? That's a story for another day.

With the time you both had, usually in the evening, he had developed a habit of visiting your place. By that hour, you'd be done with your day job, and you'd have the time to focus all your attention on him. It started as something casual, but as time went by, the two of you realized just how much you understood each other, at least to some extent.

His philosophy about freedom. The belief that being human itself is akin to being in a prison, it speaks to you. And the moment you expressed to him that you too shared the same belief, something changed between you two.

“Because you’re my…

Dear, intimate friend.”

He was fun to spend time with, so much so that it made you forget that he's a terrorist, a member of DOA. He brought colors to your uneventful, colorless life, and you didn't understand why.

“I guess you're sane in an insane way, Kolya.”

The clown laughed at the way you worded it. “Hilarious way to put it, [y/n]! You’d make for a talented comedian. You shouldn’t let this talent of yours go to waste! Don’t you think so?”

You sighed at his remark. “I’m way too anxious to do that. I can't stand in front of the stage and speak in theatrics like you do.” You eyed him playfully, and he giggled at that.

“Is that so? My dear friend can't handle the stage? How adorable, you’re intimidated by your own kind!” He scooted closer and cupped your chin in his hand. Your cheeks warmed up a bit at his touch, and you attempted to hide it. “You talk as if you're not a human yourself,” you said in return.

Nikolai’s grin grew even wider at your comment. “But I am one, I am a perfectly sane human being.” He tilted your head slightly to the side as he leaned even closer, his hot breath caressing your cheek. You swallowed nervously and darted your gaze away, unable to bring yourself to meet the silver haired clown's mismatched eyes.

And then he kissed you. It was a tender, loving kiss. Nikolai attempted to deepen the kiss, but you managed to push him away. He didn't try to force himself on you; however, he simply stared down at you with a smile. A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Did you just kiss me? What was that even for?” 

“Because… I’m looking for an answer.”

“What?”

“I’m looking for an answer.”

You didn't quite understand what he meant at that moment.

This wouldn’t end well, you knew it. Yet, you couldn't resist him.

The relationship between you two was something that words couldn't quite explain. You two weren’t exactly lovers, but you weren’t exactly friends, either. An undefined one, dancing between the lines of friendship and romance. But did you want it to end? Of course not. You never questioned it, despite the uncertainty gnawing at you.

You had always been good at hiding your emotions after all, or at least, that's what you think. Good at fooling others into believing that you were okay when you were not, because you felt far too shameful to express them freely. You beat yourself up inside your head. You couldn't feel things normally, you either feel nothing or everything at once. It's too much. Nauseating. You hated those feelings. But one day, at the worst possible moment, the clown appeared before you. As you were grappling with your breakdown, you found yourself pouring out your thoughts and feelings to him. Nikolai was present with his vacant facet, silently listening to every word.

"I just want to be free. I hate feeling things. I hate this. I hate everything. I want everything to stop!" Your voice was laced with desperation, and you continued, "If I had a gun, I probably would've done it already. I'm so tired of all of this. My mind is telling me to stop, but I can't do it! I keep doing it, I can't stop myself. I wish my body would just give up. All the things I've done to my body, I've tried inflicting all sorts of damage to it, yet somehow, the heart still tries to beat, and so I remain alive."

In the midst of your distraught state, Nikolai's face held sympathy for a moment. He approached you and pulled you into a tight embrace. He didn't say anything, he kept silent— only his grip gradually tightening as if he wanted to crush your pain away.

—

Just like any other evening, you were in your room with Nikolai. He had brought you something new - a small variety of Ukrainian sweets. He said he wanted you to taste a piece of his homeland. It was unusual because Nikolai had never brought you food before despite his frequent visits, but he seemed eager, so you decided to show your appreciation by giving it a try.

In mere minutes, your stomach began to twist and turn, forcing you to curl up in pain at the edge of the bed. “Aren’t you going to help me?" you cried out, struggling to make sense of the situation.

"...."

"Oh, wait." "You're not going to help me because you intended to do this, right?” You managed to say as you writhed in agony.

Nikolai seemed momentarily disconnected from reality but soon snapped out of it and burst into laughter. “Oh, dove! Does it hurt? Yes, you’re a smart one, aren’t you? I did slipped a liiittle bit something into this dessert,” he placed his own food aside and peered over you. “But I didn’t use enough to kill you, what do you think!” He exclaimed loudly in his usual antics. You always thought you understood him, but there were moments when you couldn’t quite wrap your head around his thinking. This was one of those moments.

“After all we've been through, you’re trying to kill me now?”

For a moment, the silver-haired man appeared taken aback. “Why do you ask? That's precisely why I want to kill you. To prove my freedom. Don't you yearn for the same?”

"You wish to be liberated from your emotions, don't you?"

It didn’t take long for you to grasp the meaning of that. You both shared the same understanding, after all. That emotions made you feel imprisoned, but you never thought Nikolai would express it this way. Before you could respond, he continued.

“Because you’re my... intimate friend… it pains me to witness your struggle to break free, just as I am.” He mumbled, his eyes empty and distant. “You’re my dove. My dearest. My angel.” By each words spoken, his voice turned softer, and he sounded genuine for once.

After a trail of endearment terms rolled off his tongue, you spoke. “Perfect timing,” you whispered, managing a grin despite the aching pain in your stomach.

“Then, why don’t we find freedom together, Kolya?”

—

"Nikolai,” you whispered, caressing his cheek. You knew this would be the last time you'd see him. “How do you feel right now? You look happy. If you were to look in the mirror, your grin is so wide I didn't even know someone could smile like that.

“Hahahahahaha! I am indeed feeling ECSTATIC!” He pulled colorful balls out of his coat, along with a couple of knives, and began juggling them in his hands. “Now, it's time for a quiz! Which weapon will I use to end your life? I have knives, guns, bombs, oh, a wide variety of choices! This is going to be super thrilling! So exciting that words couldn’t do justice!” You could only manage a faint chuckle at this. “All of those weapons, because you like torturing people to death. Right?” 

Nikolai took a couple of steps closer to you, continuing to speak in his theatrics. “Ding dong! You are—” He reached for a small knife and aimed it at your throat. “WRONG! You're wrong! Thought you answered that right, didn't you?! Gotcha!” He giggled to himself, his eyes not leaving your figure as his other hand reached into his overcoat, pulling out another knife.

“Because you are my dear friend, [y/n], I will grant you the honor of receiving special treatment. I'll make it quick for you because I want you to be free as quickly as possible!”

You had agreed to Nikolai taking your life.

You saw it as a two-way street, a mutual exchange. He could attain the sense of freedom he so desperately sought, and you could be liberated from your thoughts, emotions, and feelings.

Your miserable existence.

“Ready to take off, my dear?” Nikolai questioned, his grin stretching from ear to ear. He was smiling, but it appeared more like a manic one, instead of genuine happiness. It made you wonder what sort of expression you were wearing. A whirlwind of emotions are surging within you.

You are going to die. In Nikolai’s hands.

Slowly, you nodded. “I am.” Nikolai's grin widened even further, it appeared almost unsettling. Before you could utter another word, Nikolai had already plunged two knives deep into your chest. Your eyes widened, and you collapsed to the ground. Nikolai swiftly straddled you, and he didn't cease his stabbing. “Scream! Shout! Let me hear your cry of freedom, granted by the great Gogol himself! Hahahaha!” Laughter consumed him as he continued to relentlessly stab your neck and chest.

The pain was unbearable, but you couldn’t quite scream properly. Everything happened so quickly. Only disjointed sounds escaped your lips, drowned out by Nikolai's increasingly intense laughter as he continued to stab you.

"Freedom! Oh, this is what I've been searching for! I feel nothing!" He yelled hysterically. His mismatched eyes locked onto yours, your vision starts to blur, yet you could still see Nikolai wearing the same grin and glaring eyes. "My dear friend! Tell me! You feel free as well, just as much as I do right now, correct? Don't let my effort in killing you be in vain! You are free! Free from that prison you've been in! Say yes! Say yes!" He continued his rapid speech, almost matching the rhythm of the stabs.

Feeling your body growing cold, you could only muster a faint smile in response, sensing your blood seeping from your chest and neck. It felt oddly calming. The pain had lessened. Your body turned colder and colder, but the blood oozing from your wounds felt warm.

With the last bit of your strength, you managed to touch his cheek. You weren't sure if it was a hallucination or not, but Nikolai appeared to flinch in surprise when your hand made contact with his skin. Your body temperature was plummeting rapidly.

“...Kolya..” you managed to croak out, before closing your eyes and falling limp.

The floor was now painted red. The silver-haired clown’s once monochrome attire had almost turned crimson; stained with your own blood. There was a moment of silence, so profound that Nikolai could hear his own breathing. But then his breathing quickened, and his smile broadened once more.

“Hahaha!” He laughed out loud, “Oh! My dear friend is finally free now!” He picked up his knife again and lunged over your lifeless body. You were no longer breathing, but Nikolai continued to stab you. “The freedom we've desperately sought! Liberated from this thing called brainwashing!” The clown's eyes remained wide with trembling irises, an impression of madness. Unlike before, his voice now bore a subtle crack, as his gestures also became unsteady.

The same expression remained on his face, but tears started streaming down his cheeks. Nikolai seemed unaware of his own tears. “My dear friend! Tell me that I've achieved this freedom! You can confirm it because you understand me, right? You're the only one who understands me, after all!” His tone grew almost frantic, and his voice continued to break with each word. He pulled the knives from your chest and threw them aside, squeezing your cold, lifeless hand tighter in his warm ones.

“Because you’re… my dear friend… and you’re the only one who understands me…”