#the sorrows will melt as will the snow

[nickyelsh]

spring is here

song "kyon" by pritam, barfi in hindi:

[listen, life, it's jingling

see, it's calling us

whatever you need to do, do it today

don't delay it even further, crazy child]

[astraystayyh]

The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

[koenigami]

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART.

wriothesley x fem!reader summary : spending your night far away from everything and everyone with your lover in a cabin on a cold night, you finally uttered your deepest wish to him. wc : 3k tags : +18, smut, fluff, established relationship, talks about children, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, wrio about to unleash his breeding kink

The fire casted shadows along the walls as it danced in the fireplace, the warmth and crackling of burning wood creating a cosy ambience that could have made you fall asleep right then and there on the floor. Cold winters in Fontaine weren’t unusual yet you could not remember the last time you had seen thick layers of snow like the ones that currently covered the meadows and mountains of your homeland like large fluffy clouds. 

A cold breeze rushed inside the little wooden cabin and made you shiver when Wriothesley slipped inside, nudging the door shut with his foot while carrying piled up pieces of wood in his arms. You smiled at the sight of his reddened nose and cheeks, flakes of snow sprinkled all over his hair and slowly melting away, leaving back a trace of slightly damp curls. 

“Hope this will be enough for the night.” He sighed, neatly stacking the wood in the little basket beside the fireplace before he joined you on the woven carpet. “Good thing you stayed inside. It’s so damn cold.” 

“‘Course, otherwise I would have turned into an icicle.” You smirked, remembering how Wriothesley earlier had threatened to tie you to the bed because you had begged him to let you accompany him outside to get the wood. Apparently, wanting to watch your handsome boyfriend use his astonishing strength to chop wood had been too much to ask for. However, the shriek that you let out when his bare hands touched your neck was proof enough that staying inside had not been such a bad idea. 

“Shared sorrow is half the sorrow.” You grabbed his wrists, liberating yourself from the frosty feeling on your skin, and instead tried to gently envelop his hands in your smaller and especially warmer ones. Wriothesley studied you with curious eyes as your thumbs traced tender circles along the back of his hands while warming them up with your warm breath. 

“You don’t need to do that.” Your movements halted, and you looked up at him befuddled. He went out by himself in that freezing cold, the least you could do was make sure that he was warm and- “Share my sorrows.”

Bearing others burdens on his own shoulders was a piece of cake for Wriothesley, because somehow he always managed to take care of them very easily. Yet the melancholic smile that he would shoot you every time you stated the desire to help him was a clear sign of a deeply rooted self-destructive habit. And despite knowing that it was only a way to keep you away from any further unnecessary trouble, in some situations it felt more like a brick wall that he cemented between the both of you. 

“You’re right.” You stated matter-of-factly, leaning over to ruffle his hair and ridding him of the residue snowflakes. “But I want to. And the next time you threaten to tie me to a piece of furniture, I’ll simply handcuff you to the bed.” 

“Threatening me with a good time, huh? Sweetheart, you should really work on your bargaining strategies.” His smug smirk turned into a lighthearted chuckle when he saw you scoff and turn your head away from him in annoyance. Though your body did not resist even an ounce when one of his arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer against him into a tight embrace. You instinctively snuggled into his side, the knitted pullover that he was wearing making him look tamer and more cuddlesome than his usual dress shirt and tie.  

Coming here was a good idea. Far away from Wriothesley’s duties as well as your own work, no court cases or due dates for your reports; you were grateful for some uninterrupted shared time with him even if only for a few days. It’s what you both were in need of. Especially since there were matters that had somehow been lingering on your mind and soul for a while now-

Soft tender touches were shared as the snowfall outside the window slowly started to get heavier. His hands along your hips and waist, sliding underneath your pullover to caress and feel the heat of your skin, your lips on his jaw and cheeks, feeling the light stubble on his face. Slow and teasing movements that made your skin tingle and heart do somersaults, the awareness of how happy this man’s presence was making you, bringing a genuine smile to your lips. 

“Want me to make some tea?” You eventually asked when you detached yourselves from each other for a moment. Tilting your head slightly, you looked at him. The fire casted an orangish light over the side of his face, the flame reflecting and swirling in the deep blue of his eyes and risking hypnotising you if you wouldn’t stop staring right into them.

“Nah, maybe later.” 

“Did you just deny an offer of tea? Are you sick?” You giggled and watched his own lips form into a wolfish grin. In the blink of an eye, you were tackled and pinned to the carpet while Wriothesley’s body now loomed over yours and caged you between his arms. “I see so now it’s sex over tea?”

With nothing but the fire illuminating the cosy bedroom, you looked so ethereal. Your hair was sprawled around your head like a halo, and your skin felt so soft and warm as he glided his fingertips along your cheek and further down to your neck where he started littering light fleeting kisses. “Of course not, my love. It’s you over tea.” He spoke between each kiss. “You over everything.” 

A gasp escaped you when the sweet kisses turned into teasing bites, heat already pooling between your legs at the way he sucked on your skin, finishing his markings with light traces of his tongue. Your legs instinctively spread, letting him slot himself between them as he kept assaulting your neck, tasting you, inhaling you in such a fervent way that he made it seem like you have been separated from each other for months. And in some kind of way, it truly felt so. One tiring day after another had led to the both of you being so exhausted and depleted of energy that your shared bed had solely served as a way to recharge your batteries before the next same draining day would arrive with the same taxing work and tasks to be completed. 

His breath hitched when your hands slid into his hair, and with the tight grip you had on his strands, you noticed him lower his body, his hips grinding against yours and letting you feel the prominent growing bulge in his pants. 

“Mr. Wriothesley.” You suppressed a wince once you noticed that your attempted comment did not sound as teasing as you had hoped it would when you were so out of breath and desperate for him. “Don’t tell me we’re about to have sex on the floor when there’s a king size bed right next to us.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Blindly reaching to his side, Wriothesley tore the soft blanket off the bed, the both of you spreading it properly before you hurriedly settled on top of it. “There, better now?”

Though in all honesty, you could not care less about whether the ground beneath you was cushioned or not, whether you did it on the floor or in a thousands of mora expensive bed, as long as it was him that your hands got to touch, as long as it was him that got under your skin and never let go of you. His patience was slowly crumbling to the ground and disappearing into nothingness as much as yours was. His touches became more eager, with rough hands groping your chest, and lips nearly devouring you, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue- It was so easy for him to make a mess out of you. 

The fabric of your jumper was soon bunched up, and your bra pulled further down to let the fat of your tits spill out of it. The warmth of his lips wrapped around your nipples as he started sucking on one while his thumb and forefinger played with the other, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when he noticed you arching your back. “Fuck, missed these tits so much.” He rasped, drunk on your body and the way it felt beneath his hands. His tongue slid around your areolas, sucking and biting at the plump flesh of your breasts until they glistened with his saliva. 

Once you two finally pulled back to completely rid yourselves of the clothes and fabrics that created a barrier between you, you were almost astonished at the light shake in your hands and breath, adrenaline and hormones having riled you up like a desperate teenager. Breathless chuckles and giggles echoed through the dimly lit room while you hopelessly struggled to undo buttons here, unclasp a bra there, and unzip and tear off legs of pants. Wriothesley hissed in pain when you harshly tugged the thick woollen pullover over his head, his helix getting caught in the fabric before you yanked it off him a little too harshly.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing over the apex of his ears to soothe the sting, and settled back between your legs which you deliberately wrapped around his waist. Digging your heels into his lower back, you pulled him almost impossibly closer as if any space left between your bodies would physically hurt you. With a hushed sorry, you trailed your mouth along the shell of his pierced ear, hearing and feeling his laboured exhales brush across your face when the pads of his fingers finally stroked along your already soaked folds. He played with you. Smearing your arousal over your clit, the circles he drew on the erected little bud made you let out the sweetest noises, his cock twitching in anticipation while he could barely wait any longer to hear you moan once he was inside you. 

Wriothesley carefully drove his thick middle finger inside you, so painfully slow that you keened needily, tightly gripping the blanket underneath you in your clenched fists, knuckles white. Though his exterior seemed far more composed than you were, the hard cock that you caught a glimpse of as it hung heavily between his legs with the irritated and glistening tip, the weight of it brushing against your thigh; your pussy unconsciously clenched around nothing, the empty and aching feeling inside you only getting stronger.

“Oh my god-” You nodded mindlessly with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pouty lips slightly open in a silent moan when he finally added a second finger, filling you further up. Though you were far away from satisfied, and at the way your fluttering and pulsing walls gripped his fingers he too could tell that you needed more. The indecent squelching sound of his palm slapping against your wet pussy with each thrust was so loud, he couldn’t help but groan knowing that you were in such a desperate need for him, that you needed him to fill you up to the brim and satisfy you over and over again. 

“Let me see that pretty tongue.” You felt something in your stomach flutter at the sight of his satisfied smile once you obediently stretched your tongue out, letting him brush his soaked fingers on the pink muscle before dipping them into your mouth. With swirling movements, you made sure to lick them clean, the light suction of your lips making his breath hitch undeniably as he relished the sight in front of him, your pretty doe eyes glistening with moisture as the flame of the fire flickered inside them. “My gorgeous girl, always so good for me.” 

“Wriothesley.” You croaked when he retracted his hand, a dribble of saliva running down the side of your mouth while the taste of your own arousal still lingered on your tongue. As you reached down between your bodies to take his cock in your palm, brushing it along your folds to cover him in your juices, you involuntarily sunk your teeth into your lip, gnawing at the raw kissed flesh. No matter how many times you took him, he always made sure you were nice and ready for him, wanting to make this as pleasurable for you as possible. Yet something about the brief burn when your walls stretched around him, the way it sent shivers down your spine and made your toes curl until your body accommodated to his size; you could never get enough of it. “Just fuck me already.” 

“Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” His chest vibrated with a deep airy chuckle when he witnessed your eagerness, his big hand taking a hold of yours to place it beside your head, fingers weaving through yours and giving it a tight squeeze when his free hand guided his leaking tip to your entrance. “Going to fuck my darling real’ good, yeah?” 

“Yeah, oh-” The warm mushroom tip entered you, as Wriothesley slowly started fucking himself deeper into you. Inch after inch, he sank deeper, stretching you further before pulling back out, and leaving you a whimpering mess. The hand he had placed on top of your stomach to keep you in place, involuntarily grounded you and you wondered whether he could feel himself in your guts. Because with each thrust that he sank deeper into your dripping wet hole, you swore you could feel him in your throat. “Baby-” 

“I know, I know.” He breathed heavily against your ear when he eventually buried himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your skin, and tight walls gripping him like a vice, constantly clenching and unclenching. “Taking me so well. Always so… fuck-” 

Wriothesley’s voice died down when he felt you fuck yourself against him as if you were in heat, moaning and gasping every time you lifted your hips off the floor. Your legs were shaking by the time he moved his hand to your sex, thumb quickly brushing back and forth over your clit and making you topper over the edge. Your entire body turned rigid when you came, the intensity of your orgasm would have scared you if it weren’t for Wriothesley’s roaming hands, caressing and reassuring you. You had not even realised the tears running down your temples until he kissed them away, letting you taste the salty liquid when he slotted his lips against yours. “That’s it, I’ve got you, love. Ha, squeezing me so fucking tight.” He mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t think I’ll last much longer like this.” 

“Then don’t.” Regaining some control over your body, you were finally able to speak up though with a hoarse voice, and weak legs which you desperately tried to wrap back around his waist. Clasping his neck with your arms and holding onto him as if he was your life line, you moved your hips against his with a frail push, wanting to spur him on. “Wanna see you cum too. Want you to fill me up.”

“W-what?” His own thrusts stuttered when he caught your last sentence, letting your words sink in like honey on a burning wound. 

“Want you to cum inside me.” By the expression on his face and slowed movements, you could clearly tell that Wriothesley probably thought that your words were stemming from a spur-of-the-moment decision. Brain fried by pleasure and oxytocin, all words that left your mouth should be taken by a grain of salt, though right now in this moment, there was not a single thing that you were more sure of than the thought and wish that had been occupying your mind for weeks. A small being incorporating the love that you and Wriothesley held for each other. Crawling and toddling around your house, filling it with sweet laughter and cries, while looking just like him. His eyes, his nose, his kind heart.. “Y/n, we can’t just-”

“Been meaning to tell you this for a while now.” The pads of your fingers brushed against his flushed cheeks as you cupped his face in the softness of your palms. His deep blue eyes had taken on a darker shade, staring right into your soul, and you swore that if there was a way to drown into that ocean of blue, you would do it instantly. “Wriothesley, I love you so much. I-I can’t imagine a life without you.” 

Another stream of tears followed that made his eyebrows furrow before he gently wiped them away. Of course he had already had similar thoughts. How could he not when you were everything he had ever wanted in his life. Images of a little girl with the same sweet smile as yours, same hair, same attitude-

“Wanna give you a baby.” 

“Are you sure about that?” His gaze zeroed in on you, looking for something, just anything that could tell him that you were not being serious, that all of this was nothing but an awful joke, some terrible dirty talk. Though all he could find while gazing into your eyes was nothing but pure love and warmth as you nodded at him. Warmth that seeped into the deepest parts of his body, spreading and filling his heart to the brim with affection for a woman he would always be ready to do anything for. “Sweetheart, you’re-” 

You choked with wide blown eyes when his hips all of a sudden snapped against yours, his cock diving into your deepest parts and about to make you fall apart again. “You’re going to be the death of me, ya know that?” His voice quivered the slightest bit as he buried his face in your neck, and with his chest flush against yours, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart as it pounded only for you. 

The fire had dimmed by now, the dark red flame covered by ash and residue parts of scorched wood fighting for its last ounce of oxygen, while the heavy snowfall outside had calmed. However, when you let your nails scrape down Wriothesley’s back, leaving red marks beside the already residing scars along his skin, while his body eventually tensed up, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and cock pulsing, coating the walls of your insides in white- You knew that your night had barely even started yet. 

“Shit- Can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my kid inside you, darling.”

[nepentheansea]

Better Unspoken

© nepentheansea all works are my own and contain mature content!

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ・𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑼𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆

premise: Theo isn't sure how much more he can take without telling you what you mean to him.

pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

warnings: angst, swearing... My type of Love Confession!!!

wc: 2.8K

a/n: I'm sorry. <3

His strides seemed to slow, the once steady pace that you had set, had fallen short. You were leading, blissfully unaware of the lack of companionship by your side in the moment. Theo had fallen victim to the very thoughts that plagued him, letting them dictate his every move as he watched you trudge forward, back up to the castle doors, happily. He watched as you laughed to yourself at the conversation you were seemingly having with him. He watched the snow fall onto your cheeks, instantly melting at your touch, or the way it coated your beanie and coat. He was mesmerised by you, every little thing that you did, he was mesmerised. You had been with one of his closest friends for some time now, and yet he couldn't seem to be happy for you, for Enzo, and it was simple really, he couldn’t because it wasn't him that you were happy with. 

“Crazy, righ- Theo?” You turned around, stopping in your tracks to face him. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and his body ridgid. “Are you okay?” You spoke so softly, your words so caring and delicate as you approached him. Theo made no move, no gesture towards you, it was only a numb look. His gaze fell to the imprinted snow beneath your feet, studying it as if it had the answer to his questions. It had been eating him alive. This past year tearing him apart little by little, and he wasn't sure that he could keep it to himself any longer. He felt as though he had to tell you, no matter the consequences, he just had to. Your voice, softly calling his name again, had him looking back up at you, his eyes soft and sorrowful, and it scared you. He took a step forward, leaning his head down slightly before he opened his mouth, taking a deep breath. 

“I have to tell you something, and I….” He was struggling to find the words, glancing around like he was waiting for someone to help him out. 

“What is it, Theo? Can it wait till we get to the cast-” you start, before he cuts you off, taking another step towards you in desperation. 

“y/n….please just listen to me…”

“Oka-what do you mea-” you started, a hint of panic in your tone. His suddenty was making you nervous, that is until realisation hit you. Standing there, staring up at him, the crazed look in his eyes, and you knew. Knew what he meant, what he wanted to say. You could see what was hiding behind that look, the soft yearning, and need for understanding, the pleading, far before it had even begun. There was no coming back from what he was about to say, nothing that could be done to stop it, but you had to try. You shook your head, your breath hitching the moment he took another step forward, mere inches from where you stood. You held your breath, staring at him, nearly frozen out of fear. 

“Theo, please. Don't do this, please don't do this-” It was barely a whisper that left you, and he heard it, you knew he had, but it didn’t stop him. He moved forward, frantically reaching out for you as if he would never get the chance to touch you again, as his hands met your arms, grabbing them as he lowered himself just enough to be level to you. 

“I have too, I have to tell you how I fee-” He started. You could hear the urgency dripping off of each word, the way he seemed to speak as if he was fearful that he would never get his chance to say it again. His eyes darted between your own, a glass like glaze over the soft shade of blue, as he searched for some type of understanding behind them.

“No Theo, no you don’ t, you don-” It was almost a whine, an involuntary beg on your part, as you pulled from his grasp, and yet made no movement to get away from him. 

“Y/n, please, you have to understand, I can’t help it, i can’t just stop it, you know that, you know I can’t-” 

“Theo think! Please! Think about Enzo..” you tried, tried to make him think about his lifelong friend, the one that stood between the pair of you and everything that Theo wanted. “He is your best friend, your best friend! Please, please think about that before you say what you are about to say. Theo pleas-”

“I know, I know he is, trust me I know-” there it was again, the shaky breath, the soft tones of imploration. 

“Enzo, Theo-” you pleaded, forcing back tears that were on the cusp of escaping.

“And I know that! I know that y/n, and I love him like a brother I promise you I do, but I can’t just sit by. I can’t! Not without telling you how I feel, y/n please-” he implored, his hands coming up to reach for you again, only to fall flat by his side when you shy away from him. He hated this, seeing the way you were fighting him, the way you were pleading with him to stop, but he couldn’t let you. Perhaps it came down to some diluted fantasy, one where you would allow him to tell you how he felt, one where you would see what he meant, see his desperation and the desire for you, that you would have some type of understanding and would chose him, and sure he knew that wasn't going to be the case, but he had to hope. 

“Theo…” you mutter, your heart breaking for him, for the wounded way he was looking at you, for the way his hands were nearly clasped together as if he were in prayer begging for forgiveness. “Theo ple-”

“Y/n I am in love with you, and I can't just make it go away…I can’t-I can’t, and I can’t by any means keep it to myself..not anymore, y/n. Not when it is killing me little by little..” he couldn’t seem to stop himself as he spoke. His voice hoarse and broken as the confession that he had been holding in for only merlin knows how long now, was pouring from him as if he had no control over it anymore in floods of pathetic desperation. Perhaps he didn’t have any control. Perhaps the lie that he had been living was tearing him apart piece by piece, and the only way to soothe it was to get it out to you, to explain and pray that you could understand, no matter the repercussions it was sure to have. It had begun to take its toll on him, watching you with Enzo, pretending that he was nothing but happy for the pair of you. It consumed him, driving him to mere madness and this felt like the only way to solve it, and he hated it. He hated himself for it, for thinking that it was okay, that maybe there was a chance he could steal you for himself, a chance that you would want him just as much as he wanted you. He hated himself for doing this behind his best friends back without so much as a care. It was so unbelievable selfish and he knew that, but he didn’t care, he couldn’t care not when he had spent all this time loving you, watching you, needing you. He knew what this could mean for his relationships with not only you, but Enzo too, and he was willing to throw it all away for that small sliver of hope that you would return his feelings. 

Theo took a deep shaky breath, trying his hardest to read your thoughts, to see if he could understand even the slightest bit of what you were feeling towards him, but the moment your lips parted, he panicked, fear consuming him. He couldn’t let you speak out towards his admission, he couldn’t let you stop him. 

Your hand reached up to silence him, to cover his mouth and cease the flow of the poison he was trying to spew, but it was of no use, he was faster. He reached out grabbing ahold of your hands, soothingly running his thumbs gently over the tops of them, appalled at how cold your touch was. Your hands were frozen, you were cold, and here he was, selfishly keeping you outside the castle walls, simply for his own greed. He couldn’t feel nature's effect, not anymore, not while fuelled with pure adrenaline, but you, a poor innocent bystander in this, could. He clamped your hands together, hoping that covered by his, could find some warmth in them. 

“Y/n…I can’t…I can’t go on like this, knowing that I feel this way.” He was breaking, and you could see it. He needed you to feel something other than an undeniable no. He needed reassurance that this, what he was confessing wasn’t for nothing, but you couldn’t give him that, not now. You wanted to reach out for him, to offer him some type of comfort no matter how small, but what would that fix? Nothing, and though you hated to admit it, you were afraid that it might not only give him some senses of hope, but also that it would do nothing more than confuse not only him, but you. You loved Theo, you always had, and perhaps not in the way that he did for you, or at least never to the degree that he was experiencing. There was a small sliver of you that once wanted him the way he wanted you now, and that small sliver was begging you on its own to let him continue to pour his heart out. But you loved Enzo, and you had for some time now. You loved him and who you were with him, and nothing was worth risking that over. All you could do was to shake your head, soft desperate ‘no’s escaping you, praying, no, pleading that he would stop, that he would give up, because it wasn’t fair, none of it was. You sunk your teeth, feebly into your quivering bottom lip, slowly shaking your head, your eyes flooded with unreleased tears. You weren’t breathing, holding onto that breath like a tether, as you waited. 

“I have to make you understand…I can’t spend another moment listening to the stories of you and Enzo, knowing that it should be by your side, that it should be me taking care of you, making you smile and laugh, making you happy every waking chance that I can… I can’t take more of pretending that it doesn't hurt me, or that I’m okay when I'm really not.  Y/n, please, I am begging you…make it stop, please for me…. Tell me you- tell me you love me or- no, just tell me you love m-….” he couldn’t finish his sentence, the words caught in the back of his throat as he looked down at you with those soft pleading eyes, that glass-like look to his eyes now one filled with tears of his own, but the tears that were beginning to fall from your eyes held him captive, they silenced him. 

He could feel his world shattering before him as he looked at you, could feel you pulling away in ways that he knew he couldn’t follow, couldn’t pull you back from. He had single handedly ruined the only thing in his life that had any meaning to him whatsoever. You were slipping from him, and knew that no matter what he did, there was no going back. Nothing was going to fix this, it had been ruined beyond repair, and it was killing him. He couldn’t stand to see that pitiful look reflected on your face, the one that confirmed everything he was thinking, the one that caused him to stop breathing in a moment of lasting heartbreak, the one that filled him with horror. It was over, he was certain of it.  He couldn’t be your friend, not after what he had just told you, not when he knew that you would go back and tell Enzo, not when he knew you hated him, and that he was sure of. 

It wasn’t the truth though, you didn’t hate him, you weren’t even sure that that was something that you were capable of even doing when it came to Theo, but you couldn’t lie, you hated what he had done. You hated it because it meant that no matter what he or you wanted, things were no longer going to be the same. You couldn’t give him what he needed, craved, and you hated that. Theo deserved the world, but a world that you couldn’t offer him. The tears were rolling freely from your eyes now, staining your blushed stained cheeks. All semblances of the cold were lost on you, you felt nothing but numb, and remorseful, even a little bit angry. He had ruined something that was so utterly good, and thought you were angry at him for that, you couldn’t really blame him. You felt as though your heart had sunk like a bag of stones into your gut, weighing heavy as you fought the urge to keep your gaze on him. It was over, and you didn’t know what to say. You wanted to lash out on him, shove him back and tell him to say it was all a cruel joke, because maybe then you could forgive him, forget it, but you knew that no matter how much you wanted that, it wouldn’t be the truth. He had said his piece, and what was done was done.

“That's-that's not fair.” you cried, holding onto your composure with a literal thread. You pulled your hands from him, using your index finger to shove it into his hard chest. “That is not fucking fair! That's bullshit, Theo!” you couldn’t hold back the tears, the aggression, the ache in your chest, and you wanted him to know. He groaned, exhaling that single breath that he was clinging too, as you repeatedly jabbed your finger into his chest. 

“You don’t! You don’t get to ask that of me! You dont get to say that, not now, not fucking now! You- you don't-..” you argued through clenched teeth, but your voice trailed off. It was as if you were at a loss for the right words. Nothing that you were going to say would really express how you felt, how torn you were, nor were they going to repair any of it. He took a step towards you, ready to reach for you, and you shuffled back, nearly tripping over your own blasted feet. “No. no you’re mean, and you're selfish…” you blurted. tears rolling down your face, your breathing coming out in jagged spurts.  

Merlin, he would do anything to go back and hold onto what he had said, to pretend like he wasn’t being destroyed by his feelings for you. Back to pretending that whenever he heard the latest of your relationship with his best friend, it didn't wound him more than any physical ailment he could ever experience. Anything to see you smile, and drone on about this and that, rather than to have your cold, accusatory finger being shoved into his heart. Quite literally anything and he would do it, no matter the costs. That's when it hit him. Shoving his hand into the depths of his coat pocket, his fingers carefully wrapped around his wand, looking at you with such a shattering look of sorrow. He was sorry, so unbelievably sorry. Sorry he hurt you, sorry that it confused you, sorry that he ruined his relationship with you, and even more so, sorry that he had told you. 

“I’m so sorry..” was all he could offer in respite. 

You huffed, brushing him off as you staggered back, as he repeated soft ‘i’m sorry’s. You sighed, fighting ever urge to tell him to fuck off.

“Fuck you, Theo..” you sighed, turning your back to him for a brief moment, wiping the tears from your eyes with your sleeve, trying desperately to get them to stop.

“Obliviate,” he muttered, and you didn't even have the time to react, to turn around and deflect, before a soft haze set over you. He watched as the silver glow at the end of his wand faded, before slowly lowering it to his side. He wasn’t sure that he could do this again, to be your friend after what he had done. Being so close to you, but not being able to have you, or to tell you what you meant to him, because after all was said and done, you weren’t his, you never were, and he knew now, that you never would be.

[thesummerestsolstice]

Beleriand is gone and Tol Himling remains. No one lives there, few dare to venture close. Even years later, the fortress feels like bitter grief and pained endurance.

The remaining Noldor– and there aren't many of them by the Second Age– start sailing there. It's not far from the shore; an easy enough journey, even for someone with little seafaring experience.

One day, someone– no one is sure who– takes one of the broken pieces of Himling's walls, carves Maedhros's name into it, and sets it as a tombstone. After that, more graves appear, slowly at first, then more quickly. Old battle-songs and tributes to the dead are carved and painted into the walls. Soon, the meadow around the old fortress is full of memorials, some made from the ruins, others lovingly crafted and brought from the mainland. For all the Noldor fought amongst themselves in the First Age, now their headstoens stand together. In the cemetery, the House of Finwe is united in death as it never was in life. Graves for Feanor and Fingolfin sit side-by-side in a sorrowful peace neither lived to see.

Himring stood on an icy mountaintop where the snow never melted, but Tol Himling does not. One spring the barren meadow blooms, red poppies and blue forget-me-nots. It flowers every year after, new hues and blossoms appearing annurally until the graves are surrounded by a colorful sea of flowers.

Not many Noldor choose to sail west– most that go back to Valinor go in death– but those that do leave tokens on Himling before they leave, broken weapons and battered armor. Maybe they do it to leave something with the dead who may never return from Mandos. Maybe they do it because like the dead, their fight in Middle-Earth has ended.

Men who sail by the island– always by, never to– are very sure that there are ghosts there. To them, the place seems strange and misted, and every figure there looks like a shade. They speak of a golden-haired warrior who spends hours talking to some of the graves, a king who dutifully cares for the tombstones, wiping away dust and moss, the strange dark-haired figure who comes every year to sow wildflower seeds. But those aren't the spirits of the Noldor dead. Only those who would remember them.

[animeyanderelover]

I did something like this before with Dazai but I just sort of redid it again because I was in the mood.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, touchiness, stalking, paranoia, controlling behavior, manipulation, guilt-tripping, isolation, abduction, pregnancy, C-section, mentions of non-con, Stockholm syndrome, baby-trapping, afab s/o

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @shumidehiro @izanami78

Pregnancy Hc’s

Pluto

🐺​You've always wondered if Pluto due to being a Demon Hound would go into rut as well now that apparently he has chosen you as his mate. You remember having done a lot of research on wolves. Now that you are permanently stuck with him in a den filled with clothes and blankets he has stolen from villages to keep you warm, you can't help but feel scared when you see the worst fits of winter slowly passing by and the snow melting. Breeding season is from February to March as you can recall and so you watch with growing caution and worry Pluto's behavior. He's recently acted strange. He always rubs his scent all over you, growls as soon as you dare to leave his vision and has been getting a lot more aggressive and irritated with every living being around his den. You fear the worst as he grows clingier and clingier until one day your worst fears are confirmed when sharp nails rip your old and worn-out clothes from your body as red pupils dilate and you feel his erection rutting against your entrance, irritated that he can't get in before he finally slips into you. He barely separates from you during his rut as he spends his time either breeding you or cuddling next to you protectively.

🐺​You know that he would be the one who would notice your potential pregnancy first due to his enhanced senses and when he soon starts nudging your tummy with a satisfied rumble coming from deep within his chest and starts licking it, you take it as a confirmation that he succeeded in breeding you. You don't take the news well because you know that you have no doctor to visit and no midwife to help you when you'll eventually give birth. You only have Pluto with you who resembles from behavior and intelligence a wolf. You can't help but sob a bit when you realise that you'll have to essentially go through pregnancy and birth all by yourself. Pluto, distressed by your sorrow and stress, starts whining and tries to ease your distress by cuddling himself physically close to you. Obviously he doesn't understand what you are thinking right now or why you are so stressed in the first place. He only knows that he doesn't like to see you so panicked and sad, especially now that you carry pups.

🐺​As the male wolf who sired the offspring developing in your tummy, he grows exponentially more protective as his instincts remind him that he is protector and provider for the mother of his children as well as the babies themselves. He starts hunting animals and even buries them for later. You do your best to light up a fire in here to cook the raw meat or just command Pluto to breathe fire for you, a useful trick you've taught him ever since he abducted you. A part of his brain also recalls occasionally what food you consumed when you were still living in a town and since food is now more important than ever with you gestating his young, he raids towns in his Hound form for food and brings it to you. You don't want to touch food that has been directly touched by his saliva when he spits it out in front of you but you accept canned food which Pluto remembers for his next hunt. Besides his hunt for food and his pursuit of everything that dares to get too close to his den, he spends all of his time wrapped around you. Either in his human or hound form.

🐺​You notice that Pluto is confused when you don't give birth within spring and you assume it's because his kind usually gestates young quicker than a human. He whimpers as he presses his nose and ears confused against your swelling stomach as he looks up at you with concerned eyes. You assume that he can sense that the babies are developing fine inside of you as well as that you are healthy which only leaves him majorly confused. You can't help but wonder if you are still growing faster than a normal pregnant human would or if you are actually expecting more than one because you could swear that your stomach looks bigger than it should be already. The only thing you can do for now is wait though. Pluto grows more protective and anxious the more time passes by as his confusion and unease only grow as you don't give birth as well as seeing you starting to struggle as your belly swells and starts hindering you from moving around as much.

🐺​As soon as you can confirm first movement and you realise how much movement it is, you can only silently confirm that you are definitely carrying more than one baby. When Pluto sees and feels the movement in your belly too, he lets out a few excited howls and starts licking your belly more from that day on to show you as well as the pups inside more affection. You really wish that he could talk like a normal human whenever he presses his ears against your stomach because you think that with his enhanced senses he might even be able to hear the heartbeat of the babies and can count them. You can only leave the den when he is with you and the more pronounced and rounded your stomach becomes, the more he insists that you ride on his hound form so that you don't tire yourself. He ususally remains in hound form as he watches you cleaning yourself in the river, his ears twitching and turning around with every small rustle and sound.

🐺​When autumn arrives and the babies are still not born, his anxiety increases. He frantically starts stealing more food as well as clothes and blankets for you to prepare for winter. He's often wrapping himself around you in his hound form nowadays to keep you and your big belly all the time warm. You expect to give birth soon as you have done the basic calculation and at this rate you can't wait as your stomach has gotten so huge. Your labor starts and your water breaks in early winter as you spend hours upon hours with contractions. Pluto is emotionally just as distraught as you are as he cries and whimpers, licking your sweaty head as he tries to comfort and encourage you as you birth his kids. Nearly a day filled with pain later, you've given birth to three boys, all with his silver hair. If he'd have a tail right now, it would wag like crazy as he lets out what you assume are excited barks as he tenderly chews off their umbilical cord and licks them clean before he carefully pushes all of them against your chest. He pulls a few stolen blankets over his new family before turning into his hound form and wrapping himself protectively around his mate and freshly born litter.

Snake

⚕️​Snake is a hybrid himself so chances of him experiencing something akin to mating season aren't unlikely. It will probably not be as strong with Snake who is normally always a more shy and insecure around you but there is an intense need for him during such periods to mate with you and breed. He is conscious of his sexual urges though and generally tries to avoid you during such times. He doesn't want to force the sexual act on you even if all of his snakes try to coax him into believing that he shouldn't resist his nature. Snake refuses though even if temptation is sometimes very strong when he feels the warmth of your body on his skin as his pupils go from their ususal slits to growing, black orbs as he feels his desire flaring up hotly inside his body. Sex during this period of time is rougher as the normally more submissive male becomes more dominate, although he tries to be more careful with you despite essentially being in heat.

⚕️​As he eventually calms down from his heat and returns to his normal self, although highly ashamed and apologetic afterwards, his snakes and him soon sense that he has succeeded in what his heat-addled brain wanted to do. You're pregnant. He doesn't know how he should tell you and hesitates for a while. Snake is terrified that you'll be angry with him for impregnating you and also worries that you might reject the child to whom he seems to already form an attachment to. His golden eyes often focus on your stomach as he grows more protective and starts following you around more often. His snakes seem to try to tell you what Snake hesitates to speak out as they wrap themselves around your stomach protectively to protect the precious life inside. You can tell that something is going on but Snake still can't speak up. So far no one besides Sebastian seems to have caught on, the butler telling Snake in an amused tone that he should tell you soon as you are already suspicious.

⚕️​He apologizes as soon as he has told you and you can see that he is visibly anxious and nervous for your reaction. At this point you've had your own suspicions already as your period has been late and you've started to experience some typical symptoms like a change of smell. You are a bit unsure because this pregnancy wasn't fully planned even if you were aware of Snake's intentions when you agreed to have sex with him during his heat but you also don't hate the baby and just decide to raise it together with him. Snake is visibly relieved when he hears your answer as his eyes water a bit. He's shaking a bit when he hugs you because he is excited, nervous and anxious all at the same time. Snake seems to be a bit unwilling to share the news initially with Ciel and all the other human servants as he is quite protective but he knows that it's necessary so he soon tells the Earl of Phantomhive about the fact that you're expecting. When Mey-Rin, Bardroy and Finny find out, they're busily congratulating him as well as suggesting names for the baby, even arguing over it.

⚕️​Snake feels increasingly more uneasy and worried whenever he has to leave you alone so to not feel as anxious, he always leaves a few of his snakes in your company. All of his animal friends gladly do him the favor of looking out and guarding you and there is always at least one poisonous among those who stay with you. Just to be completely sure that nothing happens to you whilst you are pregnant. So you end up always having one snake gently wrapped around your neck whilst the other one is wrapped around your stomach for as long as it is still possible. Snake gets all flustered when you slowly start developing a baby bump, his hands trembling slightly when he touches your tummy with his hands carefully as if afraid that even the slightest touch could harm the precious life inside. He's more warily than ever when he brings you over to the mansion because all other servants, besides Sebastian, have been kind of asking him if he could let you visit. His snakes have been against it, it's only because you wanted to come over that he yields. He's still cautious and stays alerted because he knows that the servants in this mansion can be quite clumsy and he wouldn't want anything to harm you.

⚕️​He has been sensing it for kind of a while now and his snakes have been too but Snake waits for a while to confirm his suspicion as your stomach swells with new life until the first kicks eventually happen. It's then that he can confirm that he has been sensing two lives within you and all of his snakes have done so too. He looks anxious when he tells you this because one child is already such a big responsibility. Two at once is even bigger of a responsibility though and he can't help but worry even if he is also equally as excited. At one point your stomach gets too big for some of his snakes to comfortably wrap around so instead they curl themselves over your stomach comfortably as soon as you sit down or lay in bed. You notice that they are often hissing, their tongue flipping out as their head moves closer to your stretched skin. Snake informs you that they're communicating with the babies inside your stomach and often translates to you what they're saying. Both of you actually wonder if the babies will also be able to understand snakes like he does and judging from the increased movements whenever a snake is talking to them, you like to imagine that they do.

⚕️​As happy as Snake is, he's also more prone to insecurities. He's worried that his children might also be made anomalies due to him being their father. He manages to convince Ciel with the huge support of the other free human servants to be given some time off when you approach your due date. He rejects the offer that you could come over to his mansion and give birth in his room as he wants his solitude with you when your water breaks as he prefers to stay in your house. He does accept the offer of letting a midwife stay with you now that you're so incredibly close. He definitely reaches the peak of his protective behavior in those final days when him and his snakes can all sense that it could happen anyday now as he barely leaves you out of his sight. He's not leaving your sight, clutching your hand tightly in his own as soon as your contractions start as if he's the one in need of support, golden eyes observing sharply the midwife from time to time too. You give birth to one boy and one girl and they're surrounded by all of his snakes instantly, the animals determined to protect both of those children. They have some scales littering a few parts of their body but he doesn't care as he tears up when he sees how cute they are.

Dazai Osamu

🤎Dazai wants to start a family with his darling at one point and he has always been hinting at this. Whenever he sees a young family when he’s walking around with you, he jokingly asks you how your children would be if you would have a few. As soon as he sees a pregnant person walking around, he tells you that you’d probably look very cute with a pronounced baby bump that would make you waddle wherever you go and would force you to rely on him for a lot of things. He says all of those things with a harmless and teasing smile on his face yet he also gauges your reaction to his words very closely, brown eyes observing every twitch of your mouth and eyes. Perhaps it would be best for you to have nothing against the thought of children because otherwise you might be succumbed to his manipulation and gaslighting. Jokes eventually turn serious as Dazai makes it clear to you that he desires a child with you, his own hands gently grasping your own as he presses his forehead against your own. Don't you want it too? Leaving a physical trace of your love and adoration on this earth even after your death in form of a sweet child?

🤎​Perhaps you should have expected this outcome even if you yourself never desired a child to begin with. As your period doesn't come and as you slowly start experiencing symptoms such as cravings, a suden change in smell as well as nausea you can feel his eyes trailing after you. It's like he has been waiting for signs of pregnancy from you and now that you experience those changes, Dazai starts feeling extremely giddy. He soon goes out to run an errand and asks you to wait for him at home before he leaves, giving you a quick kiss before he does so. When he returns, he has bought a few pregnancy tests and asks you excitedly to take them. He waits in front of the bathroom, although he knocks on the door every few seconds to ask if he can come inside now. As soon as you allow him, both of you wait for the results. When two red lines appear on all of them and confirm that you are indeed expecting, he starts to let out a genuinely happy and excited laugh. Arms wrap gently around your waist and you feel warm lips travel all over your face before he starts spinning and swaying you around whilst humming happily.

🤎​Dazai decides to keep it a secret from everyone in his workplace for now and is especially more careful to keep the news away from the Port Mafia. He is no fool, he is aware that at one point they will find out. For now though he just wants to enjoy this special time with you whilst also preparing for the baby. For the first time in a while he seems to become conscious of his own life lifestyle and suddenly he does a 180 now that he knows that a baby will soon live here. Dazai starts cleaning everything, clothes and other stuff that used to lay everywhere randomly is sorted away because he doesn't want you to trip over it. He even makes a list what he needs to buy but he still likes to make spontanous decisions as he goes out with you, a hand always wrapped around you as the both of you buy a crib, diapers and choose babyclothes together. He discovers his fervor as he buys everything even if it threatens to tear a hole in his wallet. Both of you find quickly out during an appointment with a doctor that you are actually having twins and he couldn't be more happy as he showers you in kisses as soon as the news are out. So that means that he can name one child and you can name one too.

🤎​He always keeps a picture of the ultrasound pictures in his wallet and whenever he has the time, he just stares fondly at the two little babies in your womb. This is what he'll soon protect and have in his life. He has had his hands on your stomach and even talked to the babies before you were showing but as soon as you start developing a baby bump, he glues himself even more to your side. Hands are always rubbing over your swelling tummy as he all but dotes on you and his two babies. As soon as you are in your second trimester he becomes especially touchy as he eagerly awaits the first kicks of his precious children. It's probably around this time that the other members of the ADA find out about your pregnancy. It's either that they caught him staring at the ultrasound pictures or that Yosano caught sight of the two of you during her shopping trips and connected the dots quickly when she saw your growing belly. Initially his reactions are more careful when all members find out and congratulate him but eventually he becomes more open and starts gushing about how precious and adorable you are with your baby bump and how he can't wait for the babies to be born.

🤎​Dazai starts taking pictures of you at one point too because he wants to capture how beautiful and motherly you start looking the bigger you start to grow and is all but cooing and doting on you during this time as you slowly start struggling with the size of your belly. Dazai on the other hand truly starts blossoming as your situation as well as his babies motivate him to take better care of himself because you and the babies need him to take care of them. He helps you with all tasks that start to become more straining for you, he cleans the house, does the laundry and even starts to pick up some meals to cook so that he can prepare them for you as well as for the babies at one point. He always insists to spoonfeed you whenever he cooks something for you, all excited for you to try them. He does keep you on a diet appropriate for your pregnancy but at one time he starts to become so putty in your hands the further along you are that he starts stocking the food that you start craving a lot whilst you are carrying his twins.

🤎​He is constantly torn apart between wanting to know the gender of his babies and wanting to keep it a surprise. There were multiple times during appointments with the doctor where he wanted to ask or even at home when he already had his phone in his hands and was about to call them only to change his mind in the last moment. He takes some time off from his work in your last weeks as he yearns to spend those last few weeks with you. It'll be the last time for a long time that both of you will be alone after all. He savors the last bit of your pregnancy, his hands and lips cherishing your big tummy as he spends every waking hour with you. When your labor starts, he decides to wait as he packs everything he thinks you two might need for the hospital all whilst giving you soft kisses in between whenever you feel a contraction. When your contractions come in certain time intervals, he drives with you to the hospital and then he stays there with you, his hand rubbing over your stomach as he asks the twins to not give you too much of a hard time and that he can't wait to meet them. His eyes are filled with nothing but love as soon as you give birth to his daughter and his son as he admires his new family.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

🍎​Fyodor has never mentioned anything about children to you for as long as you can remember. And honestly, with the situation you are in with him you have never had the time nor the care to ask him what his opinion of children is. Until Fyodor succeeds in invading your heart and mind and you stop caring about about everything else that isn't him either. Your days from that day on are spend with Fyodor being much more gentle and affectionate with you although sometimes he just needs to ignite the sadistic spark inside of him and see you in pain only to kiss the pain better afterwards whilst uttering sweet nothings to you. You've completely forgotten about thoughts of a child until one day he suddenly brings it up to you whilst you are placed on his lap, his lips brushing against your ear as he asks you how you'd feel about a child. You're a bit surprised but eventually you tell him that you wouldn't mind having a child with him. He gives you a small smile as he replies that he's glad to hear this as you feel one of his cold hands resting on your stomach.

🍎​You realise a few weeks later that he must have already known at that time that you were expecting as you are hunched over the toilet again, Fyodor behind you as he caresses your back and your shoulders whilst you throw up. He's sure that it must be uncomfortable but he hopes that you'll get used to it since this might happen more often now that you carry his child. You've already asked him a couple of times before if the child was intended from his side or if it was an accident. All you always get from him is this mysterious smile and a gentle kiss somewhere on your head as he tells you in a low tone that he's happy and that is all that matters. He quickly arranges everything for you and the child. Fyodor can't risk anyone tracking you back to him and possibly go after you now that you are carrying his baby but he is generous enough to know that it would be wiser to have medics assisting you and helping you, especially once you'll give birth to his baby. He's very picky though as he chooses a selected few doctors and midwives to do the ultrasounds and to cater to your and your baby's needs as soon as he has to drive you to the hospital.

🍎​His hands caress your stomach gingerly as soon as you start showing as he even starts occasionally talking to the baby, mainly in Russian. He's given you already a nickname in Russian and he gives one to the child inside of you too and always addresses the baby by his chosen pet name when he talks to your stomach. Fyodor wants to find out the gender of the baby soon though so as soon as it is possible to find the sex of the baby out through the ultrasound, he asks the doctor to tell the both of you. A small smile appears on his face when he hears that he'll have a little daughter, his eyes twinkling with pride and fondness whenever he touches your stomach from that point on and talks gently with his litte girl. His sadistic desires completely vanish during your pregnancy because he would never be so cruel to hurt you whilst you carry something so small and pure inside of you. This little girl is a gift from god after all, physical proof that both of you are bound together.

🍎​The whole nursery is colored in white and light blue and you don't get much of a say in it. White is the color of purity after all and his daughter will be born pure. She'll be a precious and innocent child, born without any sin tainting her. And light blue to symbolize the clear and blue sky on a day without any clouds hiding it from the human's eyes. The further along you are, the more Fyodor tries to make more time for you instead of spending it scheming and planning his crimes or wasting hours in front of multiple screens. Even whilst he is working, he always has one screen showing him live footage of a camera he has set up in your room for safety. Sometimes he forgets about his work as he instead admires you through the screen. His admiration for his darling definitely grows during the pregnancy. It's so beautiful to see how your body adjusts and prepares for his daughter you grow and nurture inside of you. You are so breathtaking as your belly swells with child and your breasts slowly inflate with milk to nurse the baby as soon as she is born.

🍎​The man finds himself low-key starting to worship you and your body as you grow with his child and he admits to you so as he whispers words of affirmation and praises into your ears whenever his arms are wrapped around you gingerly and his hands rub over your stomach soothingly. He has a smug and content grin on his face whenever you tell him that the little girl starts kicking and moving around inside of you whenever he starts talking Russion to her as if she reacts to his voice and his words as his hands instantly rest on your bump to feel her little feet and hands. He always tells you in an almost teasing voice that he's just starting very early to teach her his mother tongue, glad that she seems to react so strongly to him speaking in Russian to her. He chooses a couple of different names for his daughter, all in Russian as well and all of them have some meaning including purity or God in it. He tells you about those names he has chosen so far and asks you which name sounds prettiest to you. You tell him your honest answer although you don't know if he'll actually consider your answer.

🍎​He removes himself completely from all of his work when your due date is getting close as he spends all of his time from that point on with you. His purple eyes are always on you as he watches for any sign that you might experience the first signs of early labor. Similar to Dazai, Fyodor decides to wait for a while until your contractions are coming within a certain time. You spend early labor with him as both of you pack everything he thinks you might need whilst in the hospital whilst he softly assures you that even if what is to come might be scary and will be painful, it's the last and ultimate act you have to do in order to bring your beautiful daughter into this world. He has booked a private room for you as soon as he brings you to the hospital because he doesn't want too many people around you and his newborn daughter as soon as she is born. There's only the midwife occasionally checking how far you are dilated, otherwise you are left alone with Fyodor who soothes you as good as he can until they tell you that it's time to push. Fyodor tells them to leave as soon as the baby is safely delivered and cleaned, his eyes focused on his daughter as he tenderly caresses her head.

Jouno Saigiku

♦️​Here you are, permanently imprisoned as the government has taken you under special protectionall because Jouno has asked them to do him a favor. You know that this is in reality just a more civilized abduction but no one gives you any help as you are stuck as Saigiku's lover, a doll who can do nothing but wait for him to return from any missions or other business he had to attend to and hope that he won't be in any sadistic mood. You never even thought of any children and you honestly get chills when you think about Saigiku being father to a child, especially if it should be your own. You don't even think that he would want any children if you would have to make a guess based on his possessive behavior he exhibits around you. You barely take notice when your period is a bit late because it wouldn't be your first time that you've missed your menstruation due to the stress you've felt ever since you've been taken. You don't assume anything, not until you see Saigiku's frown as his head tilts into the direction of your stomach.

♦️​You can only freeze in shock and confusion when he suddenly leans down and presses his ear against your stomach and before you can even attempt to ask what has suddenly gotten into him, he hushes you as he starts focusing on something. You see his normally smug and composed exterior fading as you see surprise, then shock and eventually unease all appearing on his face before he pulls away. He furrows, appears conflicted before he asks you when you've last had your period and it's his question that makes you realise that you've been quite late by now. You want to ask him why he wants to know before your breath gets caught in your throat as you connect the dots and Jouno can hear that you've caught onto why he asked this. He instantly makes an appointment with the doctor and not too long after he gets the confirmation of what he already knew. You're pregnant, the embryo already having a heartbeat which he is able to detect now. There is a thick silence as soon as the news are out and you look anxiously at Jouno who seems to contemplate the situation right now.

♦️​You're surprised when he actually asks you of your opinion on the pregnancy and since he would be able to tell if you would have lied or not anyways, you decide to give him an honest answer. You aren't sure how to feel about this. He seems to think the situation through for the next few days, the second heartbeat he can pick up when he is around you a constant reminder of what is going on inside of you. Eventually he makes the decision to keep the child. You don't know if he would force you to keep the baby even if you were against it but you are still unsure to make up your mind about the situation so whilst you aren't distraught when he announces his decision to you, you also aren't thrilled. Saigiku lets out a sigh when he picks up on your hesitance, one of his hands ruffling your hair gently. He knows that this wasn't the plan but now that this surprise happened you two might as well just make the best of it. He takes your hesitance over any hatred directed against your child though. Jouno just hopes that you'll have made up your mind by the time the child is born. He trusts you to make the right decision.

♦️​He would like for this to remain a secret but the other Hunting Dogs find out far too soon for his taste. Fukuchi congratulates him as he pats Saigiku on his shoulder, Teruko is having a laugh imagining Jouno with a toddler whilst Tetchou and Tachibana fret for the way the baby will be raised by Saigiku. Whilst Tachibana at least keeps quiet about it even if Jouno can still pick up clearly on his emotions, Tetchou is a bit more blunt as he openly admits that he is a bit concerned for how Jouno plans to raise his child. Saigiku can only feel his temper rising as this is the precise reason why he wanted to keep your pregnancy hidden for a while longer. How dare he to question his abilities to take care and look out for his own child? Fukuchi stops the two of them before anything grand might happen as Jouno leaves, fuming on the inside. What is probably even worse is that he knows exactly that you think the same way Tetchou does so when he visits you shortly after his argument with Tetchou, he feels the need to make it very clear to you that he wouldn't harm his own child. Honestly, for what kind of sociopath do you take him to even consider such a thing?

♦️​You have regular appointments with the doctor to make sure that the baby as well as you yourself are both fine. Truthfully though, Jouno is playing partially a medic too. His enhanced senses to cancel out his blindness cause him to pay very close attention to everything he can pick up. He listens closely to the heartbeat of the baby as it grows stronger and stronger each week and seems a lot more concerned as soon as he notices that you're stressed or anxious. Whenever he notices that your emotions go a bit haywire he quickly walks to you, asking you with a frown on his face if something is wrong. He wouldn't want you to stress yourself too much since it might be bad for the baby as he starts refraining from hurting or scaring you during your pregnancy. He becomes very touchy with you because of his blindness. He can't see you growing round and looking all adorable and he would lie if he would say that he isn't a bit upset about it so instead he feels your pregnancy. His hands are often on your stomach, slowly running over the surface to feel how much you've grown since last week and to imagine what you might look like now.

♦️Since the pregnancy was already a surprise he decides the sex might as well be a surprise until birth as well. He gets some time off before your due date as requested by him and Fukuchi who insists that he gets some time with his new family. Everything is ready by now. From the nursery to the people who will assist you the moment your water breaks as he tells you that you can't just go into a public hospital like this now that you're under his protection and carry his child. You'll have your own special room just for yourself and your own team. Your little daughter isn't born the natural way though as you experience stalled labor throughout the process and suddenly stop progressing as you stop dilating. You decide to wait for a while yet as you still experience contractions without dilating further, the doctor advices that a C-section might be an option and Jouno agrees as he's worried for you and his child. She's still born healthy though as Jouno gets to hold her first, listening to her gentle breath and the sound of her heartbeat. His fingers trace tenderly over her face, trying to imagine what she looks like before he hands her over to you and asks you to describe her to him.

Sigma

☁️​Sigma is a person who just came like this into existence by being written into the Book without any way to ever find a reason why he came into existence anyways. He has found his purpose ever since then in you as he has made it his whole point to exist to look after you and to protect you. You are his purpose in life so he can't allow you under any circumstances to leave him which has led you to be permanently stuck in the Sky Casino and even all the gifts and riches he gets you don't do any good yet he still does his best to appease and please you in any way he can. Sigma as the one who has dedicated his entire existence to you will be relatively quick to notice the small changes occuring in you. He notices how you suddenly crave food you've never particularly liked before, he notices how you're suddenly more sensitive around certain smells as well as some headaches. He frets about your health as he wonders what might be wrong with you but it is you who one day approaches him to tell him in a serious tone that you're quite late for your period and that is when he realises what is wrong. It's something he didn't really want to consider.

☁️​You can't help but wonder that it should be the other way around as you can see Sigma's whole face twist in fear, anxiety and stress as his eyes widen, his heart starts beating out of his chest and his breath quickening. He looks like he is about to have a meltdown and a panic attack so you try to calm him down as he clutches onto you as soon as he feels your warmth, his palms and forehead covered in cold sweat as you help him to regulate his breathing. As soon as he has regained some semblance of composure he apologizes frantically to you. He-he had no intention to get you pregnant! He's so sorry he should have been more careful with protection! You try to put a stop to his anxious rambling as you inform him that you aren't angry with him or anything. He still apologizes as he informs you that he'll arrange you an abortion if you desire one. You tilt your head at him as you ask him what he actually wants and he insists that he'll do whatever you want him to do in this situation. You fall silent as you consider everything before you tell him that you'd like to keep the child. You see him swallowing nervously as he purses his lips but he eventually gives you a nod.

☁️​He spends entire nights reading through every file and online article he can find about pregnancy and memorizes everything in there. From development of the child to the changes your body will undergo to what he can do to make this pregnancy as easy as possible for you. Honestly, he knew before all of this very loosely that unprotected sex would lead to pregnancy but he can't help but be shocked and even slightly disturbed as he reads through everything. The thought of growing an entire life within your womb is so strange but he wasn't exactly created the normal way so perhaps that's why he finds this all so foreign. He insists on knowing the sex of the baby as early as possible as he assigns a few medics to monitor your pregnancy. He needs to order and prepare a nursery after all and instead of constantly second-guessing everything he wants to have delivered, he just wants to know the sex of the baby as early as possible. He still second-guesses everything though because he wants it to be perfect for you and the child so you end up helping him to choose, literally meaning that you say what you like and he buys it without giving his own opinion. Your opinion matters after all.

☁️​It's kind of cute when he randomly tells you how big your son is right now if he would be a fruit and what he is already capable of doing within your womb. He's been still somewhat in denial and disbelief up until a certain point that he has gotten you pregnant yet the reality of the situation crashes down onto Sigma when he notices that you start developing a baby bump. He just stares and stares and stares as you start to grow bigger as if still thinking that he is hallucinating yet he can't deny that he's curious. How does your stomach feel now that you're carrying a baby inside of you? He always wonders but never asks. Not until you yourself take it upon yourself to invite him to touch your belly as you have noticed those curious eyes on your belly for a while now. He asks you if he really can before he carefully touches your tummy, amazed by it's roundness and firmess. You find his fascination with your belly cute though. Sigma is perhaps a bit strict with your diet and activity though as he has only the advice of the doctor and the advice online to trust so he is a tad bit controlling because he really doesn't want anything to happen to you whilst you're pregnant.

☁️​He's initially bewildered but then quickly intrigued when the baby starts kicking around inside of you. Honestly, he is admiring you for growing another human being inside of you whilst enduring the changes that come with it and the further you are along, the more protective and paranoid he becomes. He's constantly checking the cameras in your room to see how you're doing only to pause and always get so fascinated when he sees how big you have grown already. The more you start swelling and the less foreign and strange the concept of you being pregnant with his child becomes, the more another feeling starts blossoming inside of Sigma. He starts feeling an attachment to his son you're carrying as he starts feeling responsible. Responsible to protect him, cherish him and raise him well. He's going to be a father to your child and as much as this knowledge stresses him, it also makes his heart pound in excitement as he realises that his son will be one more reason and justification for his existence. Sigma will have another purpose to exist as soon as his child gets born.

☁️​Besides a few chosen people who Sigma closely monitors, no one else finds out about your pregnancy though. Sigma is too anxious to let anyone else know about it. He's counting days and hours the closer your due date gets as he simultanously worries and marvels over how much you've swollen and changed with his baby developing inside of you and he tries his best to alleviate you of any pressure and pain you might feel by giving you a massage or doing anything you want him to do. He tries and fails to keep his composure the moment your water breaks as he instantly cancels all of his work to instead spend it with you and tells all guards to not let anyone get close to your room. He's sweating, he's hyperventilating and he feels like he's about to suffer a mental breakdown as he watches you going through labor. He's constantly fearing for the worst yet luckily he is disappointed when his boy is born healthy. You fall asleep soon after you've given birth which leaves him pacing back and forth in the room with his son in his arms as he is unable to sit still. His eyes constantly go back and forth between you and the baby, hoping that you'll soon wake up before glancing down amazed at the baby he created.

[cinnamostar]

blankets and kisses

pairing : chan x gn!reader

summary : the bitter iciness of winter wore you down, yet your boyfriend knew how to melt away your sorrows

wc : 913

cw : alludes to seasonal depression, established relationship, comforting bf chan, fluffy, not proof read

a/n : this was entirely self indulgent LMAO sorry if formatting is bad though, im on my phone and wrote this kinda quickly bc i felt inspired hehe . also im floridian so i know nothing abt snow or winter so i did my best

in the hushed whispers of the night, you found yourself yearning his comforting embrace, a closeness you always craved and yearned for. the chilling zephyrs brushing against your skin, your hair bellowing in response as you shiver under the icy winds the harsh winter always brought in its company.

you couldn’t bear this season alone, it was taxing to repeat the same mundanity and solitude adulthood had introduced you to. daylight was always so fleeting and witnessing it had become a luxury during these cold months.

it was always the same deep blue morning sky that greeted you as you made your way to work, and after eight grueling hours, the same sky would be waiting to be welcome you once more, except this time with the sun rays barely peeking out from the edge of the sky. you hated this time of year, and you could never understand the holiday joy and excitement everyone seemed to buzzing with around you. what was there to enjoy?

the weather was unpleasant, the low temperatures of the world pricking the tip of your nose as you briskly made your way home, trudging your way through the light sheets of snow that covered the sidewalks. the glacial breeze never relented its attacks on you, always piercing through the layers of warmth you adorned yourself with.

the lack of sunlight allowed dreary, dark clouds take over your mind as you surrendered yourself to exhaustion. how much longer would your days be like this? how much longer would the wintry season plague your mind with somber thoughts?

you crack for the door open to your shared apartment, basking in its inviting warmth that provided you refuge from the world you had just shut behind you. the comforting smell of fresh linen making its presence known as a grateful smile graces your features. you gently place your bag on the small side table, shedding the layers of coats you had worn to endure freezing winds, not caring that they’d remain on the floor.

your mind was too focused on finding solace and reprieve to worry about your belongings as your feet dragged you to your living room. your own personal source sunshine that kept your afloat during these difficult times was waiting for you on the sofa, his head turning to your direction once he heard the pitter patter of your steps.

a smile stretches across his face, his eyes becoming crescents as he lifts himself off the couch to meet you half way.

“hi baby,” chan whispers as his arms envelope you, a chaste kiss landing on your forehead, melting away the restricting stiffness the icy winds had diseased you with. the tension in your muscles loosen under his summery touch, your mind relaxing knowing you had found safety in his arms once again.

“hi,” was all you could muster out, your sleepiness catching up to you as your heavy eyelids flutter shut, snuggling your head into his chest, taking in the comforting thumping of his heartbeat.

chan’s hand found itself resting atop your head, his other drawing gentle circles on your back, “i warmed up some blankets for us to cuddle up in,” he spoke, “i think you deserve some rest.” he knew this time of year was suffocating for you and without fail, he found ways to bring light and warmth into your gloomy world, whether it was through gentle words or acts of love, he was the healing your ailing mind needed.

his words were soothing to your worn-down soul, a small smile appearing on your face as you peer into his eyes, chin resting on his chest. “that sounds so nice, thank you, chan,” you feebly mutter.

without skipping a beat, chan swiftly lifts you up, carrying you to your bedroom as a hearty giggle escapes him, you squealing at the unexpected action. he softly drops you atop the bed, the sheets rippling under the sudden weight as you lost yourself to a fit a giggles, blood rushing to your face as you succumbed to the bustling butterflies that made themselves home in your stomach. chan lays himself next to you, hastily pulling a toasty blanket over your bodies. his arms pull you into him, your body fitting snuggly into his as his leg rests over yours. he cups your face with one hand as his lovingly gazes into your eyes, his eyes sparkling with adoration as he drank in every detail before peppering your face with kisses.

airy laughs continue to leave both of you, overwhelming you as each kiss tickles your flustered skin, leaving burning warmth and desire behind each kiss as your eyes squeeze shut. after bearing his feverish affection, he then places one last, languid kiss on your lips, lingering for a few moments before pulling away, beaming at your dazed state.

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too, chan.”

despite the brutal winter season that sapped the happiness out of you, as long as you had chan by your side, you knew you’d be able to uncover the joyful glee everyone else seemed to have. his very presence shooed away the heavy snow clouds that darkened your thoughts, rays of sunshine peaking out to thaw out the icy shell that encased your heart, reminding you that this too shall pass. somehow, in the midst of harsh snowstorms, he was a blooming flower that emanated infectious jubilation, and you were blessed to be able to bask underneath it.

[strvberrydoll]

A scenario I often imagine is Arthur drawing you while you show him your favorite music. Him simply worshiping your body, making you his muse and capturing it in his journal forever ♡⁠˖

thank you so much for your request !

You’re my first request im super super excited !! I hope you like it and that I met your expectations even though it’s a quick read <3

highhonor!arthur morgan x f!reader

warnings: maybe a bit suggestive but mostly fluff, wrote this on my notes app so grammar errors for sure sorry :(

wc: 1.2k

“Wanna put some music on f’me sweetheart ?”

The deep rumble of Arthur’s voice muffled in the crook of your neck broke the silent shared bubble of intimacy that surrounded both your naked bodies.

His hands holding you close to him, tracing abstract shapes on your back as you both came down from your highs, a very well-deserved peace after the events of the past month.

The mood around your fellow camp members was slowly starting to get better after escaping the cold claws of Colter’s harsh climate, which trapped the gang in an endless white desert of snow for several weeks with little to no food and an abundance of regret regarding the failed robbery and the miraculous escape from Blackwater.

Although the evening air was still a bit chilly in Horseshoe Overlook camp, being only the early start of spring, one could sense hope warming all your hearts, melting away some of the sorrow and disappointment that the failed robbery and the loss of young Jenny and the Callander brothers left you.

Dutch, more than anyone else, clinging to this glimmer of hope, trying to keep everyone’s faith in the gang.

The wind whistling through the flaps of your and Arthur’s shared tent made a shiver run up your naked body as you made your way from your shared cot where you two were laying, to Dutch’s gramophone, which was opposite the bed, kindly lent to Arthur for a few days.

A small thin cloud of dust and dirt rose up from where your hands flipped through Dutch’s records, eyes scanning meticulously trying to find some of your favourite ones.

Behind you, you could hear the shifting sound of the thick cotton sheets as Arthur moved into a sitting position, his eyes automatically glued to your seductive form like a moth to a flame.

“A ha ! Here it is” you softly exclaimed as you finally found the record you were looking for, the one that never failed to put your mind at ease whenever Dutch would play it around camp.

Sliding it out of the wooden box, careful not to scratch it, you put it on.

As the soft melody of ‘The Flower Duet’ filled the rather small space of your tent you started to sway to the rhythm of the song.

“Sous le dôme épais, où le blanc jasmin à la rose s'assemble”

Turning back to look at Arthur, you found him already looking at you, his aqua irises mixing with yours for a second before quickly looking down his lap and scribbling in his worn leather journal, his face relaxed and a small hint of a smile making its way into his chapped lips.

“What you writing in there ?” you asked softly, body still swaying to the sweet rhythm of your favorite song, a shy smile creeping up your face.

“Nothin’, just some quick…” he took a moment to finish his sentence as he looked back at you, eyes flying to catch every single inch and detail of you.

How the light from the small lamp on the night table made your skin glow and your curves even more defined with the contrast from the darkness of the night sky outside, your french braids, all untidy from the intimacy shared before, shifting with every move you made.

In this moment in his eyes, you were the definition of a goddess, his poor mortal heart struggling to keep an even pace near you.

“…thoughts.” he exhaled the last word, licking his chapped lips before flipping through some pages of his journal seemingly filled with various sketches.

“Ah! Glissons en suivant doucement glissons, de son flot charmant”

As a comfortable silence fell between the two of you with only the soft melodic sound floating in the air and the scraping of Arthur’s pencil on paper you continue to sway, your mind floating away carried by the suave voice of the singer, unaware that the man sitting on your bed is engraving this peaceful and intimate moment forever on paper for his eyes and his heart only to see.

“Dans l'onde frémissante, d’une main nonchalante, gagnons le bord”

His eyes were bright and focused on how to draw your mesmerizing face, afraid of not portraying your unworldly beauty right on paper, so focused that he was slightly surprised when your soft arms wrapped around his torso as you climbed back to your cot, planting a small kiss on his bearded cheek making his heart skip a few beats.

As you rested your head on his shoulder you looked down on his lap expecting to find a doodle or a quick thought scribbled away in his perfect cursive handwriting, but instead, your eyes were met with a full sketched page of you dancing near the gramophone.

With cheeks of a deep red and wide eyes, you looked at Arthur, trying to say something but failing as your heart filled with even more adoration for the not so cold hearted outlaw beside you.

“Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin, ah !Descendons, ensemble!”

Your relationship with Arthur was relatively new, barely six months, and in those six months of relationship you would often catch Arthur sitting somewhere quiet and isolated with his journal, sometimes writing stuff down or sometimes moving his pencil in quick strokes which you guessed were doodles of stuff he would see every day, but you would have never guessed how talented he was in his art.

“Well it ain’t much of a picture” he murmured, a faint, almost imperceptible blush covering the apple of his cheeks, feeling self conscious of his skills under your attentive gaze.

“Oh you silly man, it’s beautiful, Arthur” you quickly reprimanded him with an awestruck tone, your index finger gently caressing the drawing careful not to put much pressure and smudge the graphite version of you.

“Can I see more of your drawings ?” you asked him, meeting his unsure gaze which was already on you, with your hopeful lovesick one. After a quick internal struggle, he fully put his journal in your hands, giving you full permission to explore this new side of him.

As you flipped through the pages you started to see fewer drawings of plants, animals and views and more drawings of you, from portraits to full body.

He carefully captured in each drawing every single detail of you, your beauty stuck graphite to paper, making you look like a lady every painter would fight for the opportunity to draw.

With each passing page, you also noticed how some drawings featured you in more intimate moments, some when you were asleep or braiding your hair, but one in particular made you stop your flipping, heart racing as a deep blush rushed to your whole face.

On a rather empty page, on the left bottom corner there was a drawing of you naked, splayed on the bed, your expression one of pleasure with your hands seemingly caressing your body.

You stared at the drawing for a full five seconds before Arthur noticed what you were looking at and snatched closed his journal in embarrassment his eyes avoiding yours.

“Well, that’s for another time sweetheart.”

[otterneuvillette]

✧ HER HIGHNESS, MY DIVINE ! ✧

⋆⚡️— Pairings: jing yuan x fem! reader

⋆⚡️— Sypnosis: You are the oldest heir to the throne of the Xianzhou Luofu and as per tradition, you needed to find a spouse to rule the kingdom with, for diplomatic reasons. Jing Yuan seemed to oppose that.

⋆⚡️ — content: fem! reader, jealous jing yuan, and angst (slight Dan Feng x reader.)

⋆⚡️ — A/N: You and jing yuan had grown up together, he was assigned to you when the two of you were 17.

Also life has been very busy rn, so part two will happen but it'll take a while.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

“I will dispose of him for you,” Jing Yuan says, on his knees in front of you. His hands are rough, but so gentle as they clasp your hand.

“Your Highness, please, it is of little consequence to me. I would rot in prison if you asked me to.”

He doesn’t care that he’s been reduced to begging. He cannot stand to let you marry that man. You’re the heir of the Xianzhou Luofu, you should deserve someone better. As your knight, Jing Yuan only wants the best for you.

"There's no reason for you to do so, This is only marriage for the benefit of the kingdom, it is my duty. I will be fine, my dear knight."

Your silk-gloved hands covered his in a soothing manner.

"It will be okay." You whispered softly.

"As you wish, Your Highness,” Jing Yuan said, but he was clearly not at ease with your decision. He keeps his mouth shut and his hands at his sides.

You can't see the tension in his shoulders. He knows it’s not his place to interfere in the affairs of the empire, but he wants nothing more than to protect you from your impending marriage to the Imbibitor Lunae.

Jing Yuan would do anything for you.

You only have to ask.

"I may be blind to some things, my knight. But I'm not blind to the fact that you are concerned about this matter. Be at ease, my knight, there is no need for you to worry."

Your hand ruffled through his soft snowy hair at his kneeled position. Jing Yuan's whole being relaxes. Any tension he held within himself melts away like sunlight melting fresh snow in spring. Your touch is pure magic.

His knighthood is both an honor and his entire world. He has dedicated his life to your service... but your touch makes him forget about that for a moment. He is your best friend, first and foremost.

Your eyes crinkled as your eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, My knight, My Jing Yuan. Please do not feel anguish, There's still a chance for you to serve another princess...maybe one of my sisters?"

Sighing softly, your gloved hands retract from his hair and rest on your lap.

Jing Yuan shakes his head firmly.

"I...I cannot serve any princess like I serve you," he tells you. "To serve anyone else would be an insult, Your Highness."

It is his duty to be a knight, you see, but it is more than that for Jing Yuan. You are his world. He cannot imagine spending the rest of his life serving another.

"I only want to serve you," he tells you softly.

"Now, don't be like that, my knight. I will not let you wallow in your sorrow because of me."

"I cannot help but feel sorrow, Your Highness," He explains. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.

"But you are right… I cannot let that get in the way of my duty to you. No matter what comes next, I will remain faithful to you."

He stands up, finally, and offers you a slight bow.

"My sword is yours to command, Your Highness."

Jing Yuan's expression is resolute.

"But, If I cannot serve you, I will serve no one," he says. "There is no other princess whose life matters to me. I am your loyal knight, and your loyal knight you will always have."

Jing Yuan will not be swayed by your wishes. He will not leave your side and serve some other princess.

You sighed, your frame shivering by the coldness of the royal hall, cold and empty.

"Stand, my knight." You whispered.

JIng Yuan stands up quickly.

"Yes, Your Highness."

He is standing at attention, ready to hear your next wish. Anything you want. He will follow all your orders, even if you wish to marry another, he will stand by your side.

It is his life's purpose. His raison d'etre.

"Please call upon my lady-in-waiting. I must prepare for dinner with Lord Dan Feng tonight."

You leaned against the armrest of the throne for support as you stood, the thick fur coat weighed heavily on your shoulders.

"And please....be on your best behavior, Jing Yuan."

"At once."

He left, and after a few moments, he returned.

Jing Yuan bowed deeply as he stepped in front of you.

"Is there anything else Your Highness requires?" He asks.

"I'll be heading to my chambers."

Your steps were light and quiet against the floor. The sleeves and the ends of your hanfu brushed against the smooth marble floor.

"Oh, and please tell the maids and chefs to get the dining hall ready for dinner at once."

You adjust the fur coat over yourself to protect your body from the cold and you let out a sigh.

You walk towards the doors of the throne room, feeling a heavy weight on your shoulder.

"It will be done, Your Highness," Jing Yuan replies. His voice is formal, but there is a clear pride and reverence in it. He serves you and is happy to be your knight.

Jing Yuan watches you as you walk down the length of the hall. Even as you leave his line of sight, your back is still straight, your steps proud, your beauty… unmatched.

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Your maid and chefs have quickly turned the dining hall into a place worthy of Lord Dan Feng.

You are seated at the head of the grand table. With Jing Yuan lingering near the door, but still close to you. Servants bustle around the room in preparation for the main course of the evening, but your head chef serves you and Lord Dan Feng a meal of various dishes of meats, vegetables, seasonal desserts, and sweet rice wine.

"Lord Dan Feng, I hope you enjoy the meal."

With elegant movements and a well-mannered way of talking, You started the conversation.

Dan Feng, known as Imbibitor Lunae was a feared emperor in his kingdom. Rumors spread across nations, for his strict and slightly unjust way of ruling.

He had sharp ears, as well as teal horns. A son of a Vidyadhara indeed. But he was beautiful, with a tall, slender figure with black hair, fair skin, and agate green eyes, enhanced by the red eyeliner that underlined them.

He was draped in a green and gold hanfu, paired the the black fur that was once from a magnificent beast that was a disturbance from his kingdom the Scalegorge Waterscape.

"Your Royal Highness, the food in your kingdom is as exquisite as I remembered."

The two of you make polite small talk as you eat your meal. Dan Feng is the first to return to the main topic.

"Your Royal Highness," he asks, as your servants fill the two of you’s glasses. "What is your impression of our latest round of negotiations with your neighboring kingdom?"

"It has been well executed. Our kingdom's affairs will be settled at a much faster and smoother pace now."

Dan Feng nods, accepting your response.

"Indeed. Our kingdom's harmony will only advance from here onwards."

Dan Feng's face becomes serious. He puts his glass down.

"It is a great honor to be invited to your table." His voice is low and measured.

"But I would be a fool to not think about what this dinner could mean for the future." He takes a sip of his wine.

"We have talked business. Now, I would like to talk of union."

Jing Yuan's grip on the sheath of his blade tightened.

"Yes, I've been wanting to talk about that."

Your frame sat straighter, as you examined Dan Feng's expression, he had a sly smirk on his lips and his vibrant eyes looking into yours.

Your rose-colored lips curled into a soft smile after you took a sip from your wine.

"A marriage between our kingdoms would secure a political alliance the likes of which has not been seen by our nation in decades."

He leans closer towards you.

"I wish to have an empress, who is as radiant and wise as you. If our kingdom joined together, the entire world will tremble."

He reaches out to your hand and takes it into his own with a gentle touch.

Jing Yuan felt his jealousy coiling around his heart like a serpent.

Dan Feng has made a direct and deliberate show of his intentions. Not only is this dinner a display of his political strengths, it is also a declaration of his intent to marry you.

Jing Yuan watches this exchange from his station by the door. He cannot hide his jealousy… or his anger.

His eyes are fixed upon you, his princess, his every sense alert to any threats that may come your way.

"I am flattered, Your Grace. Thank you for your sweet words." You were flustered, trying to keep composure.

Dan Feng leans in closer. He seems to be studying you, but it does not feel like an inspection as he looks over your face, your hair, your hands. It feels like you may be the most important, most beautiful thing in the room.

Finally, he leans closer, your breath catches in your throat.

All you can hear are the quiet whispers of the servants, the crackling of the fire....

And Jing Yuan's armor clinking as he moves.

You notice Dan Feng's gaze on you, studying your face like someone who has already decided what they wants to do. He is direct and leaves no room for uncertainty. His words are simple, yet his message is made clear: he wants you to be his wife.

"Lord Dan Feng, I believe this would be inappropriate to do before marriage." You whispered, breathing quite heavily.

It was clear that you were put off by the close distance. The smell of the sickly sweet wine and the scent that Dan Feng had, made your head spin.

"My apologies for my forwardness, Your Highness," Dan Feng replies quickly. Jing Yuan can practically feel in insincerity of Dan Feng's words as his temper boils within him.

"I meant nothing by it."

Dan Feng is a gentleman when he wants to be. He pulls away, leaving the smallest bit of space between you. He is no longer trying to make physical contact.

He has learned to control his emotions and is once again calm and collected.

"The marriage is to be arranged soon," Dan Feng adds, "It will be of benefit to our people."

You nodded.

"It will, I hope this will bring prosperity to our kingdoms."

A small smile plays across Dan Feng's lips. His eyes remain on you.

"I see what my advisors have said is true. You are beautiful and wise."

His words are like poison to Jing Yuan's ears.

"Our unions will be fruitful. Together, we will lead this world into a new age."

His words are laced with honey. His gaze never breaks from yours.

Jing Yuan's jaw clenches.

The two of you continued eating in silence, enjoying the atmosphere as the royal bards were singing a tune. A few cups of wine later, Jing Yuan could see the color spreading across your cheeks, you were never a heavy drinker.

Dan Feng was eyeing you from across the table, like a prize that he needed to grab and keep for himself. The fact that you failed to notice it made Jing Yuan even more possessive.

Dan Feng leaned closer yet again, seemingly wanting to kiss you.

Jing Yuan couldn't stand it anymore. He stood next to you, a gentle and possessive gesture.

"Your Grace," His voice is gentle yet firm, "I believe that Her Highness said that close contact is not appropriate before marriage."

He said that with a mocking tone.

His eyes are focused on the man beside you, who has taken such liberties in his conduct with you, His princess. Dan Feng seems unfazed as he meets your knight's gaze. Jing Yuan wants to strangle this man for his audacity.

"Please refrain from doing anything to Her Highness, or I will-"

"Jing Yuan."

You said in a warning tone.

"At ease."

Jing Yuan snaps to attention immediately upon hearing your voice.

"Your Highness," he bows his head deeply.

He will not let a single thought in his mind or emotion escape his body unless you, his princess allow it.

He stares daggers at Dan Feng, but his expression remains neutral…. but any outside could see the burning, lethal gaze in his eyes. Jing Yuan will not dare say a single word out of turn again.

A servant refills Dan Feng's wine.

Dan Feng drinks deeply and grins wolfishly at your knight.

"I see that you care deeply for the Princess," he says with a sneer, looking over at Jing Yuan. "Your service to her is admirable."

Your Knight stares right back, expressionless.

"I hope you do not mind me being so close." Dan Feng leans towards you again, his green eyes fixed on your face. His voice is sweet, like honey, but the threat in his words is clear.

Jing Yuan does not answer.

He is clearly upset, angry, and jealous at the sight of this man. This man, who is trying to steal you from him.

He stands by your side, unmoving, trying his best to hide his emotions… not only from you but from himself.

His loyalty will never falter, but he wants this man to go away, Jing Yuan gets the impression that Dan Feng doesn't like him either.

The glint in Dan Feng's eyes irked him.

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"It's getting late, Lord Dan Feng. Would you like for my maids to prepare a room for you?"

Dan Feng smiles, and puts his glass down.

"Why, thank you, your Highness."

He rises from the table, and bows his head.

"Please, allow me to spend one more night as a guest of the Xianzhou Luofu. I will be on my way tomorrow before dawn."

He gives you a little wink, which you notice, and so does Jing Yuan, who can only give Dan Feng a death glare.

"Then, I'll let my maids see you to it."

Dan Feng is taken away to a guest bedroom.

Your knight stands next to you, looking out the large window into the darkness.

Finally, he clears his throat.

"Your Highness." He whispers. His body language is stiff, almost as if he wants his jealousy to be noticed. It is difficult for him to contain his emotions, but he cannot allow himself to say words that may bring harm to you.

"Could we speak in private?" He says quickly.

But that made you even more agitated.

"What happened back there?!"

Jing Yuan was surprised by the tone of your voice.

"He's trying to seduce you, Your Highness."

Jing Yuan is angry, his arms crossed, his body tense.

He's not sure how to process what has happened. His mind is spinning as he tries to remain calm and professional for your sake.

"He was being…inappropriate. If it were anyone else, I would have removed them from your presence myself."

He is talking as little as he can, in calming his anger.

"That doesn't mean you have to threaten him like that! Did you forget who he is?!" You whisper-shouted.

"His Grace is a guest, Your Highness."

Jing Yuan's face is full of conflicting emotions. He is worried for you, angry at Dan Feng, but even so, he does not want to risk harm upon to you or your kingdom by acting against Dan Feng.

He is used to keeping his emotions in check. But it's almost painful for him not to go over to Dan Feng and throw him out of your palace with his own two hands.

"I cannot allow some foreign prince to touch you so freely, to gaze at you with such lust and hunger…"

Jing Yuan's voice trails off.

"And he is going to be my wedded husband by contract! Do you know the consequences if you harmed him, our nations would go to war !" You exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm aware, Your Highness."

His face is blank, but his heart is full of turmoil.

He hates having to stand by as some foreign prince takes such liberties with the woman he loves.

But he cannot betray your trust. He will not defy your orders.

The knight turns back to you, eyes darting between your face, the floor, and the windows… anything to avoid looking at your face directly.

"Your Highness," Jing Yuan's voice is tense and formal. "May I ask why you are… entertaining his advances?

You sighed, your body seemed to deflate like a balloon.

"Because I thought that maybe, it would assure me that he wouldn't back out from this agreement."

Jing Yuan's face twitches in confusion.

"Your Highness, are you saying you… do not want this marriage?"

His tone and face are utterly blank, but you can tell that he is surprised by your admission.

He clears his throat, hoping to move this subject of conversation into more acceptable terrain.

"Why would he back out of this arrangement? This marriage would benefit both kingdoms, this is simply a political decision. You have no intention of… becoming close with him?"

"The kingdoms' safety is paramount and my hands are tied politically. But you must understand that… I need this marriage to happen. I cannot let the sacrifices of my parents go in vain."

You swiftly avoided his question.

There is a deep conflict in your heart. "I have to marry him. It's the only way this kingdom would survive."

"Little finch," you feel Jing Yuan's eyes burning into you. Your knight yearns to touch you, to kiss you, to hug you. His desire becomes more and more apparent. But he knows this is not the way. He is to be your knight, your protector, nothing more.

But the way you put it so clearly. Your marriage is necessary to keep your kingdom safe. He understands the importance of your duty… but even more so than that… He wants you to be happy and he knows this marriage is the opposite of happiness.

You chuckled sadly. "You haven't called me that in years."

"Just please, Jing Yuan. You have been my best friend since we were 17. Please understand how this means so much to me and this kingdom. It's my responsibility as the oldest heir."

You've never seen Jing Yuan so… sad before.

He's always been disciplined and has never let his emotions get the better of him. But this… this is hurting him greatly.

He takes a deep breath and then looks up at you.

"I will not stand in the way of your marriage, Your Princess."

He kneels before you and puts his head down, letting his hair fall forward. His expression was steady but his voice wasn't.

"The interests of the Kingdom come before my personal affairs."

"Personal affairs? Jing Yuan, what do you mean by that?"

Jing Yuan remains focused on looking at the ground, his voice clear as he answers.

"Little finch, I have fallen in love with you," he says, the words falling from his lips as if it were no big deal, and yet, he feels it weigh upon him like the heaviest burden.

"The thought of you… marrying Dan Feng hurts me greatly. It pains me that I cannot offer you my love and honor in place of his."

There is a slight pause before he continues.

"And yet, I will not interfere."

"Jing Yuan, I— How long have you felt like this?" You stuttered.

"It started as a childish crush," Jing Yuan answers promptly, not bothering to look up from the ground.

You have never seen him show this much emotion around you before. You didn't think he knew how.

"But as time went on, these feelings… this love has only ever grown stronger. I can't put it into words, Your Highness!"

He shakes his head slightly, ashamed of his emotions.

"I will always protect you, to care for you as your best friend, and yet…my love for you is too much to ignore."

"When I saw him touch you... when he took your hand and stared at you... when he winked at you," Jing Yuan takes a deep breath.

"It made my blood boil."

"I wish I could give you everything. I wish I could give you my heart."

This statement rings in your ears louder than anything else before.

It's an admission of love and an admission of how painful it is for him not to be your lover.

"A knight has no reason to fall in love with his Princess. It is a betrayal of everything I am. But I cannot deny it," his voice drops to almost a whisper, but the sheer amount of emotion behind them carries the words far.

"My divine princess, I love you." He whispered.

Your gaze shot up to look at him as those words escaped his mouth,

"You probably will not see me as anything more than your knight, but I cannot deny my feelings. I want you to be happy, and I will continue my duty, but... I wanted to confess my love for you before you married Dan Feng."

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Love.

The words burn in your ears as more and more emotion pours out of his words

He is not ashamed of his words. He does not hide his love from your eyes. He holds nothing back and tells you the truth.

Jing Yuan, your best friend loves you. He loves you so much.

And he will never be yours.

Your mind is spinning.

Does he think he has no chance with you? Or does he already know and is merely professing his love before it is too late?

"Jing Yuan." You let out a choked sob.

"I can't-"

Jing Yuan's heart breaks as you sob. He cannot help but place a hand on your shoulder.

The movement is gentle and careful, but you can feel his hand tremble slightly. His voice is soft, gentle even.

Pleading.

"My princess, you do not have to say anything. I just wanted… I just wanted to tell you how I felt before you married Dan Feng. That is all."

He looks down at the ground.

"I will not… I cannot be anything more, I know this. But I had to tell you…"

"…you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen…the most wonderful person I have ever met," Jing Yuan whispers.

"I will cherish my time as your knight, as your best friend, until you no longer need my protection."

He bows his head deeply, looking at the floor.

"Your happiness…is my happiness. For as long as you allow my services, I will offer them gladly. Even if you marry Dan Feng and have heirs, I will still guard you," The sliver-haired man says, his voice still filled with emotion.

"Jing Yuan…." You were devastated, you couldn't process this, everything was happening so fast.

He seems to brace himself for the worst— for an outcry from you, for a scream or a slap, anything negative.

But you simply take his hand.

You take your knight's hand without a word.

"I understand…" Jing Yuan says quietly.

"It was selfish of me to tell you this when it will only hurt you, but I do not regret my words. Your happiness is my mission… your joy is my joy, and your sorrows are my sorrows."

He is utterly loyal to you, and you alone.

"You should go, I need a moment to myself." You said quietly.

He stares at you… looking into your eyes. It's impossible for him to look away.

"As you wish," he whispers, releasing your hand.

He stands, turning to walk out—but he takes a second before he leaves.

"Please know that… regardless of how this marriage pans out," Jing Yuan's voice drops to a whisper, "I will always be here for you. Whenever you need me, a whisper of my name is enough."

With this, your knight leaves, allowing you to collect your thoughts.

He just hoped that you wouldn't hate him after this.

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[i-am-hungry-24-7]

List (Sorted by Characters)

list sorted by story content

fics rec 1

status update: life’s super hectic, not sure when I’ll start updating fics again (but I hope I can finish 🐬 anon’s request first)

Hello, I’m HalloHello. Thanks for reading!

This is a side blog so I can’t leave likes or follow others with this blog I’m so stupid I’m sorry :(

Simon "Ghost" Riley

New Year Fireworks + We Both Broke Our Promise (F)

Invincible (F)

My Heart Can Sleep When I'm with You (F)

Daisy Dukes - 1 2 (F)

His Only Asylum + Bring Me to Heaven (F, 18+, gore and knife)

Bed All Day (GN) (18+)

Inhale Our Sorrow, Exhale Our Future (GN)

Bedtime Story (F)

Unexpected Encounter (F)

Ghost*Reader with Scars and Hide Their Face (GN)

Smut Challenge - Neighbor!Reader (F) (18+)

Husband!Simon with Car Crash Wife!Reader (F)

Simon Got a Flu (GN)

Nine things Simon Riley Might Annoy (intentionally or not) His Shorter Partner (GN)

Sleeping (truly) with Simon (GN)

Domestic Life with Retired Husband!Simon (GN)

Simon with A Gammy Reader (GN)

Perv!Simon Riley with Yandere!Reader (GN)

It Isn’t Fate Bringing Us Together (It’s Me) - 1 2 (Dark Fiction, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat)(GN)

Palette (F)

Ex-bf!Simon Riley*F!Reader (F)

End This Repeating Dance (GN)

Silly Moments between Simon and Reader (F)

Simon Taking Care of You When You Accidentally Injured Yourself (F)

Simon Riley, Will You Marry Me? (F)

Soulmate AU - Separate Endings (GN)

How To Remember? (F)

Voicemails (F)

Your Inviting Lips (GN)(anon ask)

Remember-me-not (GN)

The Last Dance (GN)

Two-way Trap (F)

Simon Exploring Your Cute Reactions (GN)(evil 🐼 anon)

Simon Loves Your Chubby and Adorable Face (GN)(🦈 anon)

A Day of A Cute (and Silly) Couple (GN)(req)

Hey, how are you? (F)

Grim Reaper!Ghost*Reader That’s Always Alone (GN)

Shower with Simon Riley (GN)(anon req)

Watch You From Afar (GN)

Till It Blooms Again (F)(🐬anon)

John “Soap” MacTavish

Smut Challenge - Neighbor!Reader (F) (18+)

Regret Devouring Me (GN)

John Price

How To Remember? (F)

The True Me (GN)

Watch You From Afar (GN)

König

Spider Webs - 1 2 3 bonus chapter 1 (F) (18+)

His Only Asylum (F, 18+, gore and knife)

NSFW Alphabet (F, 18+)

Vampire AU Headcanons (GN)

Cat Café AU Headcanons 1 2 (GN)

Cat Reader Headcanons (GN)

TF141

In Pairs - Price Soap Gaz Ghost (GN)

What Makes You Unique (GN)

Cream Puffs (GN)

Sweet Flavor of Your Lips (F)

Vampire AU Headcanons (GN)

Cat Café AU Headcanons 1 2 (GN)

Cat Reader Headcanons (GN)

Wild Pets - 1 1.5 (F)

Tf141 with a Fragile Reader (GN)

Tf141 with a Reader Who Sucks at Baking but Wants to Bake Them a Valentine’s Day Dessert (F)

Tf141 with gap moe (contradictory-characteristic cuteness) reader (GN)

Melt Down The Snow (GN) (🦈 anon)

Some Thoughts about Demon!TF141 (GN)

More About Demon!TF141 (F) (18+) (anon req)

Demon!TF141 but Reader Becomes Demon Too (F) (anon req)

No Tolerance!! + It's Nice To Come Back Home (F) (🦈 Anon)

TF141 men seeing you wearing face chain for party (F) (🦈 Anon)

TF141*Reader Angst in Few Sentences (GN)

Always By Your Side (GN)

TF141*Reader Fluff in Few Sentences (GN)

Not Dying Alone (GN)

Counting Down To Heaven (GN)

Each Other’s Shelter (F)

TF141 with A Reader That Can Fall Asleep Anywhere and Anytime (GN)

Spine Chill (GN)

Mafia!Tf141*F!Reader ch1 ch2 ch3

[hereforreadandwrite]

Abandoned Part 2

Masterlist

Your mother always knew what was best for you.

She always saw through the intentions of others, warning you against people who were malicious or who simply wanted to take advantage of you, and she encouraged you to go towards those she liked. When you told him about Kratos and he came to give you your wedding ring. Your mother disapproved of him as soon as he walked through the door, but you were too in love to actually listen.

Your mother knew better, you wish you would have listened to her and stayed away, but no. You listened to your heart and went with Kratos, becoming his "wife."

Why did you think he loved you?

“One way or another, something is going to go wrong,” she said. "He's only here because you're young and he's lonely. As soon as he finds a woman he's interested in, he won't stay. All he does is lie and fool you 'illusion. A man like him has an ego. You deserve much more (Y/N)."

Your mother tried to protect you from this pain, but you didn't listen to her. You were so happy that a man like Kratos was interested in you.

You left your mother.

You left your loving home for a man who didn't care about you.

Now you stood in front of your childhood home. You were terrified of facing your mother. You were sure and certain that she wouldn't want you anymore, especially when you told her that you were pregnant. Speki and Svanna moaned beside you, licking your hands. You smile at the wolves, finally gathering your courage to go and knock on the door. When the door opened, your courage melted like snow in the sun. Your mother looked at you in surprise. You jabbered incomprehensible words. To your surprise, your mother hugged you.

“I missed you so much,” she said, hugging you.

You cried with all the tears in your body, of relief, of anger, of sorrow. It was probably the hormones that were causing you to have this whirlwind of emotions, but you were happy to be back home.

Your mother allowed you and the two she-wolves to go inside. You explained to her what had happened and why you were back home. Your mother had listened to you patiently without interrupting you or judging you. When you told her about your pregnancy, she hugged you, reassuring you, saying that she would do everything to help you with your child.

A weight lifted from your shoulders.

You finally felt welcome and loved.

Your mother also loved Speki and Svanna.

She has always loved animals.

Your pregnancy was going wonderfully. Your belly grew bigger day after day. Six moons had just passed and in all that time, Kratos never came. You would have thought he would have come, at least to pick up Speki and Svanna, but no. He probably never bothered to look for you. Had he even returned? It wouldn't surprise you if that wasn't the case.

Even during Ragnarok, Kratos was always out of the house.

At first, you understood that he had to train Atreus and hunt. There were times when you were alone for days at a time, taking care of Fenri when he was sick. When Kratos came home, he barely spoke to you. He preferred to take care of his weapons and other tasks. Whenever you tried to approach him, he pushed you away.

The only reasons that kept you going were Mimir and Atreus. The two had welcomed you into the home with open arms. Then Atreus left. Mimir was still with Kratos.

You have always been alone.

“I’m sorry mother,” you say, stroking your belly.

“Why are you apologizing?” your mother asked, looking at you perplexed.

"Because... I didn't listen to you... and I left with this man who never cared about me. I was stupid."

"Child. You're not stupid," she said, leaving her work to come and sit next to you. "You were in love. How could I blame you for that? I also had this bad judgment when I fell in love with the man I dreamed of spending the rest of my life with."

“Were you in love before you met father?”

"Yes, I found this man kind and caring. But... he loved me just for my beauty. He didn't hesitate to dump me when he found a more beautiful woman. Then I met your father. He helped me. He consoled me and I agreed to marry him. And before he died, he gave me the greatest gift. You."

You would never have believed your mother had the same experience. That was why he was so harsh towards Kratos. You hugged your mother, crying your eyes out. Your mother always knew what was best for you.

Why did you think Kratos loved you?

He who said he hated the Gods. He was worse than Odin.

Three new moons passed, the baby was ready to come into the world. The day he was born had become the longest day you had to live. The pain that tore through your stomach was horrible. You screamed, cried, begged your mother for this pain to finally stop. Your mother helped you as best she could, telling you to take deep breaths and push. The pain will stop when the baby is out. Speki and Svanna squealed as they heard you scream in pure pain.

Your mother couldn't help but be worried. The birth was long. Too long even. The baby should already be out. But it wasn't just that. You were bleeding profusely. She tried to stop the bleeding, without success. It didn't bode well. After one last painful push, your child finally came out of your body, finally coming into the world. Her tears invaded the little cabin. Strangely, your mother was silent, staring at the horrified child.

"How...what is that?"

"Mother... my baby..."

Your mother showed you your child. You understood why she was so horrified when she saw the baby, her left side was perfectly formed, but her right side was devoid of skin, revealing her muscles and bones as black as darkness.

“It’s a girl,” you said under your breath.

“(Y/N)…”

“She’s perfect,” you said, sobbing and hugging your daughter to your chest. “My daugther... you are the best thing that ever happened to me!!”

Your mother looked at you without knowing what to think about this situation. This child should be dead. It was impossible for her to survive with such a deformation. She was brought out of her thoughts by feeling a warm liquid spilling onto her knees. Her gaze rested on the bed. The furs were soaked with your blood. The bleeding had become more severe. Your mother tried to stop the bleeding as best she could, but her attempts were in vain.

“(Y/N)!”

Your mother's throat tightened as she noticed that you had just taken your last breath, holding your daughter to your chest.

“No…,” she whispered, shaking you. "(Y/N)! No! Daugther! Open your eyes!"

From outside the cabin, anyone could hear Speki, Svanna, the baby and your mother crying over your death.

It was only at sunrise that your mother had the courage to prepare your pyre. She wrapped the baby in thick furs, placing her granddaughter in a basket. She placed the basket on the table as she went outside to take from her supply of logs. You were never going to be able to see your child grow up, become a woman. You were never going to be able to know all his joys and sorrows. You should never have left first. You should never have died this way. You didn't have time to give your daughter a name. She was going to have to decide for you. It wasn't her role to name your daughter and raise her.

The sun was now high in the sky when your mother placed your body on your pyre and set it on fire. She will be your daughter in her arms, watching your body turn to ash.

How could things have gotten so bad for you?

Why were the Gods so cruel to you?

But now you could finally be at peace. Your mother looked intently at your daughter, her granddaughter.

Neither alive nor dead.

Your mother didn't know how that was possible, but the facts were before her. The night had passed and the child was perfectly well. She slept peacefully in her arms.

"We need to find a name for you, little one. What do you think of Hel? This name suits you perfectly."

Your mother went back inside her house. The Gods have truly been cruel to you. Your mother knew she couldn't allow your daughter to see the outside world. Your mother placed Hel in her basket to close the windows and the front door. Your mother knew she had to hide her granddaughter from the outside world. Other mortals were not going to welcome a different child with open arms.

Your mother didn't know how to protect you as she wanted to do.

She was going to protect Hel as best she could.

tag: @pookiesnatcher

[adore-laur]

COME HOME TO MY HEART

— an angsty continuation of home is a feeling that takes place months after ☕️

——

Standing under a bleak sky copious with death, Harry is just another person in a black ensemble of mourning that rivals the white winter scene. Snowdrifts heap over inscribed gravestones, and willow trees weep frigid tears along with everyone else at the street-corner cemetery. It's a sorrowful evening; not even the pastel pink wisps of a brumal sunset are able to lift spirits. 

As the coffin is lowered into the ground, its sleek wood collecting flurries from above, the surrounding air grows colder in lamentation. 

A departure from life is impossible to prepare for, isn't it? 

Harry hangs back from the crowd by a bare maple tree. He wears a long black coat with deep pockets for his hands. To anyone else, he's an intruding spectator, but in actuality, you personally invited him to be a crutch of support since your parents can't be that right now. 

He promised you he would be here, yet the way you've been gazing up at him with indecipherable eyes every now and then tells him you didn't quite believe him. 

When you had called him out of the blue and relayed the upsetting news about your grandfather's passing, his heart had ached in a way it hadn't ever before. It ached for you, his grief-stricken girl, and also for your family, who were always generous throughout the years. In the week since he arrived back in his hometown, he gave you time to deal with the initial grief independently. There was no need to barge into his ex-girlfriend's life and attempt to be your saving grace. If you needed a shoulder to cry on, he'd wait for you to ask and then lend it to you without a second thought. Your level of comfort with him isn't something to be presumed. 

Nonetheless, it's an unfortunate circumstance just to be able to see your face again. 

The crowd disperses once the loose dirt is shoveled back into the ground. Crumpled tissues in hands and hushed chatter signify the end of the funeral burial. It didn't feel right for Harry to attend the service, as it was for close family and friends only. Even now, a nagging feeling inside his gut tells him he doesn't belong in such a sensitive area. 

He pushes himself off the tree trunk and searches for your familiar figure that has suddenly disappeared. He mentally prepares what he'll say to you and is highly aware that there's no right way to go about condolences. He just needs to be as gentle as possible. 

Eventually, you emerge from a huddled group and lock eyes with him again, with a slight smile that mends his aching heart for the time being. 

"You look like a spy," you say, your boots crunching in the snow as you walk toward him. 

He laughs softly but doesn't say anything. Instead, his empathetic side takes in every part of your face, looking for an emotion to pinpoint so he can comfort you in the most chivalrous way possible. He notices your dissociative eyes with prominent bags under them, your tinted nose from the cold, and your chapped lips that make him yearn to kiss the rawness away. 

He's so close to you again. Has your hair gotten darker due to the seasons changing? Why do you have such beautiful eyes, even on a dreary day? Does the eyeliner you have on come from the pencil stub you've owned since high school? 

Knowing his own boundaries, Harry thumbs a quick swipe across your shivering chin and then wraps you in a tight hug. You instantly melt into him, your arms looping around his torso—just like that one night on the rooftop. 

"Your hair is so long," you mumble into his coat. 

He releases you before the intimacy starts to hurt too much, but he keeps a protective hold on your upper arms. "Do you hate it?" 

"No, it suits you." You swallow and look at him, your teeth chattering a bit. "Thank you for coming." 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replies sincerely. "Gramps was a great man." 

"He liked you a lot." 

"Did he?" 

You give him an almost scolding expression and say, "Of course he did. When I brought you home for Christmas the year we started dating, he took me into the kitchen and told me you were a keeper." 

Harry's posture stiffens. "I didn't know that." 

"It was our little secret," you say quietly, snowflakes falling onto your eyelashes. "Um, have you had a chance to talk to my parents yet?" 

"I don't think they'd want to see me," he says while removing his hands from you. He tucks them back into his pockets since they're becoming numb. 

"Why not?" 

"I just have a feeling." He's been having a lot of those lately. "Not often that an ex-boyfriend shows up at a funeral, you know?" 

Frowning, you glance around and say, "It's not like they hate you or anything." 

God, he hopes not. Yet he wouldn't necessarily blame them, considering he broke their precious daughter's heart. 

"Where are you going after this?" he asks, not wanting to delve into his regrets. 

"My parents' house," you reply, your breath visible in the frosty air. "To my childhood bedroom. Hopefully, I'll get some sleep for once." 

You haven't been sleeping? He could've guessed, but he didn't want to assume. He wonders if you still light vanilla candles and turn on salt lamps to rejuvenate your energy, according to you. 

"Did you drive here?" 

"No, I rode with my mom and dad." 

Harry shifts his footing and clears his throat. "Would they mind if I stole you for a bit?" 

You blink quickly. "What do you mean?" 

"I just want to talk," he elaborates, scratching under his nose. "Catch up. That's all." 

There's an apparent hesitance when you nibble on your bottom lip. "What do you want to talk about?" 

"Anything you want." Truthfully, he just misses hearing your voice. "I'm staying here with my mom for a while since my winter break starts soon. And, well, you're the only person in this town I enjoy talking to." 

"Are you kidnapping me from a funeral?" 

"Maybe don't put it like that." 

A genuine laugh escapes you, and Harry's knees almost give out. "Sure, let's go," you say with a smile and a lighthearted shrug. "Being here is making me sad." 

"Okay. Let me say hello to your parents really quick." 

You scan the cemetery, then ask, "Do you need me to come with you?" 

He scrunches his nose and toes the snowy ground with the front of his boot. "Please?" 

After he politely shakes hands with your dad and gives your mom a long hug, he walks you to his black Jeep parked on the side of the road by the first row of graves, his elbow hooked with yours so you don't slip on the pavement slush. The first thing he sees is that his windshield has iced over from the bitter cold. 

He sighs and fishes for his keys, then unlocks the doors. "Here, start it for me and turn the heat on. I need to scrape the ice off." 

You take his keys and slide into the passenger seat. Harry makes sure you're situated and then grabs his ice scraper from under the backseat. After a few minutes of manual labor, he gets behind the wheel and shakes snow flurries out of his hair. 

"Where on earth are your mittens?" he asks when he notices your hands are tucked under your legs. 

"I didn't bring any," you reply defensively. 

"Love," he stresses as he pushes his hair back. "It's bloody freezing out. Give me your hands." 

"Maybe if your stupid Jeep didn't take forever to warm up." 

Harry doesn't make a snarky remark since he knows you're sensitive right now. He just cups your hands between his and blows warm air on them to increase your circulation. They're soft and fit so well between his palms, like they were molded to be held by only him. 

"Ready to go?" he asks between blowing breaths, focusing his gaze on you. 

You study the snowflakes sticking on the windshield. "Where?" 

He gently sets your hands in your lap and then reaches across to buckle your seatbelt before fastening his own. "Is Edge of Town still your favorite café?" 

"Yeah," you say bemusedly, turning toward him with widened eyes of innocence. "Why?" 

Putting his car in reverse, he places one hand on your headrest and smiles at you. "Let's get some coffee there, yeah? For old times' sake." 

——

Sitting across from Harry at a corner table in the dimly lit café, you can't believe you almost forgot how handsome he is as you both sip from cinnamon lattes, careful not to disrupt the intricate art made from steamed milk on the surface. 

All the slight changes since you last saw him have become your focal point, his hair being the most staggering. It's now tied up into a bun, and you're not sure why, but it makes him look different. His facial features have gotten slightly older; the high school baby face you fell in love with now showcases physical maturity. 

He's different, but somehow all the same. 

You've spent the last half hour catching up with him, which has proved easy since college is a relevant topic in both of your lives. You learned that he's getting his degree in the spring of next year, and then he's going to find a job somewhere in Europe to start the next chapter of his life. You're proud of him. He's always had a good head on his shoulders. 

"Have you ever had marshmallows in your coffee?" Harry asks, tapping his foot against yours under the table. 

You set your cup down and blankly stare at him. "No, you freak." 

"It's good," he claims, wiping his lips with a napkin. "You should try it." 

"You know, your taste in beverages hasn't improved over the years. Don't even think for a second that I forgot about the ginger ale." 

"Excuse me," he says offendedly, "it helps fight the common cold and digestion problems. It's the perfect drink to have in the wintertime." 

"Absolutely rancid," you mutter, taking another sip of your coffee. 

As you continue your subtle ogling, your eyes catch brown leather peeking out of his coat pocket. The familiar journal of his catapults you back in time, flashbacks playing in your head from all the vivid occasions you've seen him carry it around or write in it. He had never let you look at his entries, always making a show of hiding his secret words from you. Looking at it now, you see that a page toward the end has some sort of bookmark sticking out. 

"You still have that?"

Harry looks confused. "What, digestion problems?" 

"No, oh my God," you say with a burst of laughter. "I meant your journal. You've had that thing for ages." 

"Ah." He pulls it out and sets it next to his coffee cup. "Yeah, I still have it." 

You admire how worn the cover is, decorated with permanent marker scribbles on the cracked material. "Are my terrible drawings still in there?" 

Nodding, he smirks and leans back into the booth, stretching his arms over his head. "I'll show you later. They're quite abstract." 

The space fills with comfortable silence for a while, and before you know it, you're walking out the door with him and into the night. You don't remember ever getting up, but the numbness in your brain might have caused it. The past week has felt like a fuzzy dream you've been stuck in. Grief is a peculiar thing.

Under the snowy sky, hometown nostalgia in the dead of winter creeps under your skin. When you look around at the sidewalks you used to walk with your grandpa, everything suddenly hits you hard. Your lips wobble as you try to blink back the tears, but they fall without warning. 

Harry quickly wraps both arms around your shoulders, resting his cheek on top of your head. "It's okay to cry," he whispers, kissing your hair. "I promise you it's okay." 

You sniffle and say, "Whenever we see each other, I always end up crying." 

He hums. "Sorry. I don't mean to." 

"No, it's not you this time." You bury your nose in his coat and let the woodsy scent of his cologne distract you. "I just always realize how lonely I am when winter comes around. It gets harder as I get older." Swallowing and shaking your head, you continue, "I used to adore winter as a kid. I would play outside in the snow for hours and then come inside to drink hot chocolate. I wouldn't care if the sky was gray or if my fingers would freeze. Nowadays, I just stay in my room when it's gloomy, unless I need to go to work. Growing up isn't as fun as I thought it'd be." 

"You still have my number," Harry replies softly, pulling you closer. "You can always call or text me when you're feeling lonely." 

"I had to pay by the minute when I called you about my grandpa since you were in the Netherlands." 

"And is that so bad?" 

You smile and sniffle again. "No, it isn't. To be here on an empty street in the freezing cold, crying and joking around with you—I've missed it. Not the crying, but you know what I mean." 

"I know," he murmurs. "I've missed it too." 

"Will you be celebrating Christmas with your mom?" you ask, hearing a car drive by. "She's still living here, right?" 

"Yeah, I'll be at her house." He cradles the back of your head and gently pulls it away from his coat. "You should stop by. She always thinks of you." 

You look at him and say, "All good things, I hope." 

"Always." Taking your hand, he starts walking further down the sidewalk. "Follow me." 

Harry stops at a streetlight and releases his hand to pull his journal out again. He flips through the pages until he gets to one toward the end. "When we said goodbye in the summer," he says, "I walked around town and wrote about all the places we used to go—places where we had good memories. You can read what I wrote if you want." 

"Really?" you ask. Harry nods, so you take his journal from him and read the black ink that fills half the page. 

The streetlight on the corner of Lawton Avenue. I kissed you under it on New Year's when the clock on my phone turned to midnight. Your lips were cold, but they lit a fire inside of me. What I would give to feel them again, even if they just pressed against my cheek like you did when we said goodbye. 

"Lawton Avenue..." you trail off, your eyes dancing around the area where you stand. "Isn't that—" 

"This is the same streetlight," Harry interrupts quietly. 

You exhale incredulously, gazing up at the familiar light. "It is. I remember now." 

"This feels right, doesn't it?" He steps closer until his boots touch the tip of yours. "Me and you being here. It's like something keeps bringing us back to one another. Does that sound crazy?" 

"Gramps," you choke out. 

He tilts your chin up with his knuckle. "Hmm?" 

You take a deep, shaky breath. "I almost wasn't going to tell you that he passed, but then I thought about how much he liked you. He always went on and on about how nice of a boy you were. How he saw the love in your eyes." 

"He loved you. I only saw him a few times, but I know that he loved you so much." 

"I know. I think he brought us back together." 

"Well, he was right about the love in my eyes," he says, his gaze piercing your soul. "I don't think it's ever completely gone away." 

Logical thinking goes out the window when you tell him, "I love you. I shouldn't anymore, but I do. 

Harry cups your cold cheeks. "Stop. You don't get to say that." 

"I love you," you repeat, your voice becoming thick with emotion. "You still mean so much to me. Just like what you said to me back in July." 

"Right person, wrong time. That's what we decided on the rooftop." 

"But I didn't mean what I said." 

That night was five months ago. It's wild how one day and one look at him can change all your feelings. The love you thought you lost with him is coming back as an unraveling epiphany. 

Sighing, Harry looks down at the sidewalk blanketed in snow. "You told me it would never work," he says. 

"I didn't know what I was saying," you reply hastily. "It was so overwhelming seeing you again after two years." 

"I don't understand," he says, slightly frustrated. "You made it seem like we were better off never seeing each other again." 

You wipe your tears that are either from the brisk air or your own misery. "I'll be your friend, I'll be a one-night stand, I'll be anything. I just want to be someone to you again." 

He glimpses at your lips. "You are. You're everything to me." 

"But the distance—" 

"Fuck the distance." 

It was the only thing that broke the relationship. 

"You were so good, Harry." Resting your forehead against his, you breathe out a landslide of emotions. "Such a good boyfriend. You loved me better than anyone." 

"I still love you," he says, placing both palms on your neck. "Years ago, it was high school love that I didn't fully understand. This... hey, look at me." Your chin is tilted back up with his thumb. "This right here is even more real to me. This is why I asked if we could try again." 

"So, what now?" you ask, looking into his eyes. "Do we try again?" 

"We try again." 

"How?" 

"If the distance fucks everything up," he says with his warm breath hitting your lips, "then we know we aren't right for each other. But I'll go through that possibility if it means I don't have to love you from afar anymore." 

"Just come home," you plead desperately. 

"I am home. Technically, right?" 

"No, you don't get it." You grip his shoulders. "Come home to me. To my heart." 

He kisses your cheek twice, the first quick and the second longer. "I'm right here, baby. I'll stay for as long as you need me to." 

"I want you to stay here." Your own voice sounds distant. "I miss you all the time." 

"I will," he affirms, his eyes fluttering shut and his voice fading. "I'll come home to you." 

Just as you're about to kiss his lips, something taps the back of your hand. The streetlight you're under goes dark, and the vision in front of you fizzles out as you blink rapidly to find yourself back in the café, staring at your latte. 

"Hey," Harry says tentatively, squeezing your fingers with his. "You all right?" 

Snapping your head up to him, you blurt, "Sorry. I zoned out for a bit." You shake your head and repeat, "Sorry."

"That's okay." He looks out the window—the snow is falling harder than it has been all day. "I was just saying that your parents will probably want you to get home soon since the roads will be getting bad. I can drop you off." 

Your throat tightens. "Um, sure. Yeah, I'm ready to head out if you are." 

"Okay," he says while standing. "Stay here. I'll start my car since it takes forever to heat up." 

You just weakly smile as he walks out of the glass doors. Sinking in your seat, you try not to think about where your mind has drifted. It felt so real, so wildly vivid. His voice, his words, his touch—all of it made sense. In your head, you do everything right. You let him in, not push him away. You talk it through, not avoid the burden you carry. You keep your chin up and do not give up at the first sign of doubt. 

After lightly slapping your cheeks, you sigh and put your coat back on. When you get up to shove your arms in the sleeves, you see that Harry left his journal on the table. It sits vulnerably next to his empty coffee cup, the string tied loosely around the cover. 

You shouldn't, but you do. 

Quickly opening it and flipping to the page with the bookmark, you skim the messy ink on the damp page. It looks fresh. Dried dots from snow darken the paper in various places, but you only focus on what the words spell out. 

She's under the willow tree, more beautiful than the weeping branches crystallized with icicles. I sit here in my car, wishing there was a way to let her know that I would do anything she wanted me to. 

My love for her warmly courses through my blood, protecting me from the brutal winter. If she opened her heart to me, I could make her my home again. Light those vanilla candles and kiss her like I used to. Tell her all about how she makes me a lovesick fool with no cure. Give her my time and apologize for ever walking away from the best thing that slipped through my fingers. 

Where she goes, I follow. There's some powerful force that refuses to keep us apart. Why can't she see it? I can't be with her if she doesn't yearn for me like I do for her. I understand the distance and why, in retrospect, she sees the potential downfall. However, I see the beauty that could flourish from it if we just tried. 

I want to come home to her every day, but how do I even begin to tell that to a girl who doesn't feel the same? 

Fuck the distance. 

The café door suddenly opens with a chime, making you slam his journal shut. Thankfully, Harry doesn't notice since he's too busy looking down and stomping his snow-covered boots on the welcome mat. 

You pretend you're picking up his journal for the first time and say, "Don't forget this." 

He glances up, eyeing what you hold. "Shit, thank you." He walks over and takes it. "Wait, I never got to show you your drawings." 

"It's fine," you tell him. "They're probably really embarrassing." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive. I'm pretty tired." 

His gaze dances around your face, then falls to your hands, fidgeting with the zipper on your coat. "Let's get you home," he says softly. "You can try to sleep on the way there." 

You end up doing just that until he pulls into your parents' driveway. Opening your eyes, you squint at the bright beams of the headlights reflecting off the house's windows. You look over at Harry and find him staring at you, his face barely visible in the dark. 

"We're here," he whispers. 

You nod sleepily and unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thank you for… making today a little easier." 

"Of course." He rubs the back of his neck, not knowing where to look. "I hope you get some sleep tonight." 

A chasmic pang. A searing sting. A residual twinge. 

Why? 

Because the words you tearily whispered to him before shutting the car door cause you to fall into bed and clutch the blanket until sleep overtakes your heartache. 

You're a good man, Harry. 

——

[inamagicalhallucination]

The air was cool as Atsushi walked side by side with Ryuunosuke. It was a lovely day to be outside, that was what Atsushi had told Ryuunosuke to convince him to leave. Not that he'd need much convincing, for all that he pouted, Ryuunosuke was always willing to do the things Atsushi fancied.

It was getting colder now, but not enough for it to be uncomfortable. Perhaps there was a time where Atsushi would enjoy getting to live through the seasons, getting to feel them around him.

He looked at Ryuunosuke. He was wearing a warmer jacket, his hair was moving slightly in the wind. His face was serious, concentrated on making sure they walked the best trail. He was very lovely. Atsushi was so lucky to be loved by him, to love him. Even if this was all tentative and new.

Atsushi should feel elated, he did feel elated.

He reached over, just barely, but Ryuunosuke grabbed his hand anyway.

/

Atsushi buried his face into Ryuunosuke's neck as the two swayed to the music. They'd had dinner at Ryuunosuke's apartment and ended up like this, floating through the living room. Ryuunosuke didn't like to dance, but he liked to hold Atsushi.

How lovely. How beautiful it was to be loved by him Atsushi thought. He held on tighter wishing he could somehow melt into him so that they could be one. So that when Ryuunosuke was hurt, Atsushi would hurt too, when he was sad Atsushi would cry too.

Atsushi loved Ryuunosuke, far more than he thought it was possible to love anything or anyone. He loved him with each steady beat of his heart. He loved him in the way he knew he'd never love anyone again.

Ryuunosuke's hands on his waist, his breath on his shoulder. Concentrate. Concentrate. On him, alive, heart beating -- Atsushi could hear it.

For a second, Atsushi could pretend this was forever.

RYuunosuke pulled back enough to dip him and laughed at his surprised expression.

/

There were a lot of things Atsushi shared with Ryuunosuke he did not know were shareable before. Like baths, like now, with his back to Ryuunosuke's chest, the bubbly water around them.

Ryuunosuke used to hate baths. Or at least the vulnerability he felt without his ability. He trusted Atsushi though. Opened up that part of him, every part of him, and let Atsushi step inside, safe and warm. Trusted him to keep him safe like Atsushi did with him.

Atsushi wished he could take every burden, every sad thought away from him.

I love you, he whispered. Ryuunosuke smiled as he kissed the top of his head.

/

The clock kept on ticking, time kept on moving. Atsushi wanted more time. He wanted to be with Ryuunosuke as they grew old. Wanted them to have other summers, other falls, other winters and many springs together.

He wished he'd met him earlier, wished he'd had more time. Wished he could focus on the now and be satisfied that he got to be loved and got to love him. But all he wanted was more time. A month more, a day more, a year more. Just a little.

How unfair that Ryuunosuke was meant to be lost by him, right when he found him.

Ryuunosuke smiled that sad smile, wiped Atsushi's tears and pulled him close. Atsushi took a deep breath and let himself love with all the sorrow in his heart.

Ryuunosuke had told him it would be better for Atsushi to move on. But Atsushi knew he'd regret every second he didn't have with him and wanted to love him as much as he could. He didn't regret that. Didn't regret any moment between them, even with Ryuunosuke's illness hanging over them.

But he wished it could be longer. He wished that when Ryuunosuke died, he'd take him with him.

But Ryuunosuke would go with the winter snow, and Atsushi would be left behind.

[meownotgood]

imagine desperate, super soft sex with aki after he almost died at a mission and you both need to just feel each other and be close :(( and maybe both of you cry :( 💕

high to death. / hayakawa aki x gn!reader, angst, tender sex, established relationship

I'm ill anon...... I'm so sick............

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

Aki's hand seeks out yours in the dim light, and when he finds it, he holds it tightly. Your fingers intertwine; his fit perfectly in the crooks of your own, as if they were made to be there, as if this is what his hands have been waiting to grasp for far, far too long. Not the rough hilt of his sword, not the chunk of gun devil matter held deft between two of his fingers, just your hand in his. 

And it scares him half to death — His fingers tremble, his whole body softly tremors, his hot breath on your ear comes out shaky and heavy with sorrow. It terrifies him to imagine an outcome where things happened differently, where he never returned home, where he never got to have you, ever again. 

Aki is used to this, or so he thought. Aki has become accustomed to the grueling missions, to just barely making it home within an inch of his life. It's part of the territory that comes with being a devil hunter, and with this path he's chosen to walk down. He comes home weak and weary, covered in bruises, deep wounds on his flesh bound to leave him with more scars than before. Vivid red blood paints the crisp white fabric of his dress shirt, soaked deep into his fingertips — And at this point, he doesn't know if the blood is his own, or if it belonged to the devils. 

This time is different, though. This time isn't like the others because this time, he has you, and it's the first time the reality he's been living in truly begins to take shape. 

You, who he loves so dearly, who is the reason why he's so scared to die. The reason why each of these days have begun to feel a little less lonely, and a little more meaningful. The incentive behind why he's been smoking less, and why he's trying to quit — If it means a few more minutes with you, just a bit longer in this oh-so short life that he gets to spend right here beside you, he'd do anything, and he'd do it without a single question. 

Because he very well could die; he could lose you forever, just as easily as he found you, and he almost did. The thought alone is enough to make him want to — No, need to feel you, to make love to you like this time will be the last. 

When he slowly eases inside, you hear his breath hitch, his arms around you holding your body closer to himself. You embrace him tightly, safely, like he'll disappear if you let go. Warm, like the cozy rays of dying sunlight that drift through the window pane, to melt the fresh snow of his dying heart. In this moment, everything begins to feel alright again.

Gradually, Aki feels his heartbeat start to calm. His palms are cold when they glide up and down your soft, bare skin, sending tingles twisting up your spine. You feel his touch trail over each curve and dip of your body, feeling the outline of your spine, the shape of your hips, as if he wishes to memorize the very construction of your form. He never wants to forget it. 

One hand comes to settle on your waist, and once he's all the way in, his hips flush with yours, soft skin against soft skin, the other rests carefully on your jaw. Aki drags you in, eyes fluttering shut as his lips press to your own; he holds it, draws out the time like a thin, stretched line, holding onto a secret hope that this kiss will last forever. That this moment and the pure devotion he feels, that all of it will never, ever end. 

Your lips on his ignite a fire in his chest, an ache in his heart — Perhaps his last mission didn't kill him on the outside, but he thinks it might have on the inside, and kissing you, your tongue tasting the blood that lingers in his mouth, is exactly what he needs to feel alive again. 

His head tilts so he can kiss you deeper. You hold the back of his neck, pulling him in. Your body curls into his touch instinctively. When he pulls away from your lips, his gaze settles on yours: eyelids heavy, pupils blown, eyes blue like the depths of the ocean, deep enough to drown inside.

There's a certain sort of look in your own, something between adoration and hurt. A look that makes him think that nothing in this world could ever matter more than you in his bed, your bodies tangled under the velvet sheets, foamy white waves washing over. Your soul and his, connected. 

Aki makes love to you deeply, desperately, shallow rolls of his hips accompanied by his quickened breaths and quiet moans of your name into your ear. It feels so amazing, so perfect, so right. You make him feel high, his mind a dizzy haze, everything exactly where it belongs.

Over the gentle echo of skin hitting skin, you hear his smooth voice, the soft utterances of his thoughts, of everything he's needed to tell you so badly — I missed you, I missed you so much. I thought…. I thought I wasn't coming home. Oh, God, I thought I'd never see you again, I'm so sorry. 

He nestles his head into the nape of your neck, peppering your skin with delicate kisses. With little bites and impressions of his teeth, marks that prove he was there, tangible proof of his existence, of how he was here with you. Your fingers thread through his soft, long hair, tenderly holding the back of his head, lips pressing idly to his shoulder, fingertips tracing the outlines of his scars — Your touch mends his skin anew. 

And when he hears your voice, soft and shaky and beautiful, sounding on the edge of falling apart, his heart breaks. The words resonate so deep within his chest, inside his skull — I don't want to lose you, I can't lose you. Please, don't die, Aki. His arms hold you tighter, he presses himself in even deeper, and the pace of his hips grows clumsy as tears well in his eyes, wet drops falling to bloom over your skin. 

Don't die. God, for you, he'll try, even though he knows it's useless, because destiny has already fated him to. He'll fight against it, as best he can, until the day he takes his final breath. For you.

He can't stop himself from crying then, from speaking through his sobs and quiet sniffles, promises he's not sure he can keep: I'm not gonna leave you, I'm not, I won't. Please, I don't want you to cry. I love you, oh, sweetheart. I love you more than anything. 

His voice sounds weak, breaking at the edges, and when he looks at you, grasping your chin between his fingers, his eyes are puffy, his cheeks are tear-stained. His thumb swipes over your quivering lips, a warm knot coils in the pit of his stomach. When he reaches his peak, you're falling from the edge alongside him not too long after. Aki holds you as close to himself as he can manage, riding his high with you, forgetting about the world as you take him to heaven, just as he wished.

As he catches his breath, he rests his forehead against yours, soft bangs brushing over your skin. His hand grips yours tightly, fingertips caressing your knuckles. He brings your hand to his chest, places it over his heart, lets you feel where it's beating. Thrumming to a gentle rhythm, soft and warm and real. 

I'm right here, my love, I'm right here. I'll crawl home, even from the depths of hell, just to return to your arms. I promise.

[bidisastersanji]

Someone please write a Mr. Brightside ZoSan fic please listen

listen

It started out with a kiss- they’ve been skirting around each other for so long and one day they finally snap, coming together for a hungry, desperate kiss in the galley after a particularly close battle, the adrenalin still pumping in their veins, the desperation overriding all their fears and all the thousands of reasons they’ve built up as to why this is bad, this is a bad idea but oh it feels so good, so right and they never want this to stop

How did it end up like this? As was to be expected the haze doesn’t last, the next day they’ve already fallen back into their normal routine of bickering and fighting, and it’s like nothing ever happened. Zoro surmises that it meant nothing to the cook after all. It’s all been one sided for so long, he shouldn’t even have been hanging on to that last sliver of hope at this point, how absolutely stupid of him to think Sanji would want him, it was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.

Now I’m falling asleep and she’s calling a cab while he’s having a smoke and she’s taking a drag Now they’re going to bed and my stomach is sick and it’s all in my head but she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now - they’re at a party and Zoro has been drowning his sorrow in sake, but is snapped out of his sleepy drunkenness when he notices an inebriated, distractingly smoking Sanji and a young woman chatting in the corner, the woman obviously flirting with the perverted cook and his blood boils, he can’t tear his eyes away as they discreetly tuck themselves into a corner and she’s touching him, dragging him away by his hands to somewhere more private and he can’t stop his mind from imagining what they’re about to do- can practically hear the rustling of clothes as they’re being hastily removed, the little noises the cook would make, whines from the back of his throat, and his stomach feels sick, and it’s all in his head …

Let me go, I just can’t look, it’s killing me and taking control- Zoro’s anger has turned cold, he knows if he gripped just a little tighter his glass would shatter, and it’s taking so much effort not to let this take him over, to just be the demon that people think he is, and lose control. This was the last, bloody nail in the coffin he’s built around his heart and he doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to keep feeling this way, wants to purge himself of this weakness, this childish jealousy, of the twisted images of the cook and that woman swimming in his head

Destiny, open up my eager eyes - Zoro’s body is so tense, barely held together from sheer willpower and he’s thankful for the party’s boisterousness because he’s sure someone would’ve noticed the pulse of bloodlust he accidentally let slip earlier. Years of training kick in as he deepens his breathing, looking for other things to occupy his thoughts, distractions, something to lull him into a meditative state, anything to dissociate from the pain drowning his chest. That’s when he hears it.

“Zoro?”

He looks up, surprised he didn’t even notice someone walking up to him, and his eye meets blue. Breathtaking, beautiful blue, looking at him with all the concern and tenderness in the world. The tension melts off him like snow on a bright summer day. Traitorously he feels that eager, stupid sliver of hope bloom in his chest again. He never learns.

“Cook.” The word comes out rougher than he meant to. He clears his throat. “What are you doing here?”

His curly brow raises. “I’m celebrating,”

A beat.

“You’re not with that woman?” fuck. He can’t turn back now.

“-woman? Oh. Didn’t know you cared so much, silly marimo. What, you’re jealous or something?” Sanji jokes.

And Zoro is tired. So, so tired.

“Yeah. I am.”

[nanamikentoseyebags]

i'm nightcrawling to you

how come that every night he finds himself at your doorstep? why do all the ways lead him to you? how is it that in the pounding heart of this bustling metropolis, you are the only person he can come to?

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

content: extremely satoru-centric, hurt/comfort, just satoru turning up at your door every night in an attempt to feel something again

a/n: i love him so much i need to get inside his head and sweep all the bad thoughts out :(

At night Tokyo is mired in the noise of cars, loud voices of people who fill its streets at this late hour and argue about their trivial, insignificant problems, irrelevant to what is now happening in the heart of this metropolis. The city is suffocating in smog and soot, writhing, riddled with road lines, silently crying out for help, flashing muffled blueberry-colored store signs that are scattered across the map like sores on the body of a sick man. People rush home, causing it to itch and make it squirm. The city waits. It waits for all the commotion to die down, for the streets to sink into darkness and emptiness, for only then can it breathe. One more hour and...

A frantic inhale.

The multicolored night lights, the countless illuminations, a myriad of car headlights fade, melt into a kind of haze, like under a misty veil, and again as if from the depths of a deep blue ocean, emerges a mass of thousands of people, who believe that this place is the root of all their misfortunes. They move swiftly toward their dwellings, cursing their jobs that leave them unsatisfied and exhausted, but which allow them to live a relatively normal life. Need to last another hour…

A frustrated exhale.

The eerie shadows cast by the houses and the feet of the passersby slowly turn into a lingering inky darkness of the night that swallows up the entire city. The last person stranded on the road crosses the threshold of their house, closing the door behind them with a rattling thud. The motley signs, once pulsating in the center of the city, darken, revealing the faint glow of stars floating in the sky. The golden iridescence of random car headlights no longer makes it squint. The tired city takes that much-needed greedy breath of air...

A sharp inhale.

The harsh chilly air burns Satoru Gojo's lungs, as he slowly strides through the now empty streets of the weary city. His hands, stuffed into the pockets of his black jacket, involuntarily clench into fists in an attempt to warm his freezing fingertips. He shivers, pressing his head into his shoulders, trying to hide from the piercing wind that so mercilessly ruffles and tangles his snow-white hair and uneasy thoughts. Left all alone, he muses with a slight melancholy about his fate, written by someone's ruthless hand in the book of life…

An exhausted exhale.

"So strange," he thinks to himself, looking with unfathomable sadness at the soft inviting light coming from the windows of the little apartments in these big anthills of the concrete jungle, "in all my life I've never had a place I could call home. Where am I going? Where are my feet leading me? Is someone waiting for me?" A sad smile appears on his face as memories, like the pages of an album, begin to turn over in his head. Moments when he lost his home in the form of his best friend. Moments when he found it again in the form of his students. The moments when you helped him rebuild it from the scratch, replacing the burned out pieces with the solid foundation of your care. Moments when, for fear of destroying everything, he left again, leaving you there, safe, because with him coming, the chances of losing everything in an instant seemed to be infinite...

A sorrowful inhale.

Light slanting rain begins to fall from the dense clouds floating in the sky, beating on the curtained windows and blanketing the shivering city like a thin cloth of invisible threads with pearls dangling on them. Satoru let the occasional drop land first on his disheveled hair, and then drip in small trickles from his glasses, covering his already frozen face with chilling moisture. He does not turn on his infinity, allowing himself that rare weakness of feeling human. Heavy droplets come down from the roofs, drumming on the iron awnings, water grumbling angrily in the rusted gutters. Wet, gloomy houses stare at the lonely and lost man with their weeping windows.

…

A new gust of wind whips another batch of memories into his face, the irrepressible longing reverberating in his heart when he thinks about them for too long. The scraps of conversation brought by the raging weather play a faint melody in his ears. Satoru chuckles bitterly, as if right now he can hear the students calling him a bizarre, annoying, lanky sensei, who used to insert his ridiculous comments here and there. He never takes offense; on the contrary, he does everything he can to be one, the odd teacher who would do anything to make his students' youth look like the spring of their lives. Even though it makes him seem like the biggest fool on the planet. Somewhere within himself, he hopes they'll never have to find out how utterly tattered his soul is. And now, convinced that all of his students were sleeping soundly, he goes outside in an effort to find the way to his own sanctuary.

…

The weeping sky brushes away the leaden clouds from its blanket as if they keep preventing it from observing the unfolding of a story that has long been written. With a sinking heart, soaked to the skin and chilled to the bone, Satoru Gojo reaches for your door, stopping for a moment, unsure whether you should be bothered at this late hour. At the last moment, allowing himself to be a little selfish, he makes a few quiet knocks on the door and awkwardly hides his hands behind his back. For a few seconds, nothing happens. He heeds, not knowing for sure what he's hoping for: that you've been asleep for a long time and won't catch him in this miserable state, or that you were waiting for him after all, feeling this strange connection between the two of you. Suddenly the door swings open, revealing your small figure. The bright light emanating from your apartment on this dark night does not dazzle him, but rather cradles him with its invisible hands, trying to give him its warmth. The smell of homemade food fills his nose, beckoning him to peak in. Satoru stands motionless, looking at you with a fluttering heart. So familiar, so homely, with a smile stepping away from the door, inviting him to go inside. And he thinks, "It's so strange, in all my life I haven't had a place I could call home, it seems... it's always been here."

A relieved exhale.

thank you so much for reading! comments and reblogs are very appreciated <3

tags: @shamelessperfectionhideout @margumis @vagabond-umlaut @4sat0ruu @a-nuisance-called-sam @strawberrystepmom @rossithepixie @suckonlimes @jazminetoad @nikokopuffs 💛

art and dividers aren't mine <3