#this month has been so so so endless with the tasks

[madaraservingcunt]

[thewickedjazzy]

‟𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓭, 𝓝𝓪𝓴𝓪𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪?”➵ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴍᴅɴɪ

➵𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Chuuya x f! reader.

➵𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Enemies to Fuckers Lovers? it's been two years since you joined the port mafia and chuuya still gives you the cold shoulder like you’re some sort of personal vendetta. confused, you finally mustered up the courage to ask him straight up why he’s been acting like a dick? What’s his deal with you?

➵𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : NSFW mdni 8.9k of pure filth, smut with plot, oral (both giving and receiving) kinky sex, profanity, taboo sex, hatesex, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, standing sex, public sex, impact play, dirty talk, sweaty sex, cum visuals, risky sex, hand bondage/restrains, face-fucking/both of you, reader begging, multiple positions, also small font, I guess that's it? *phew*.

You sat at your desk, arriving earlier than anyone else in the mafia, as was your habit. You needed the quiet, the solitude, to unwind before the day’s chaos began. You held your favourite coffee cup, inhaled the rich aroma, and sighed. How long has it been? Two years, four months, and six days... yeah. When would you ever stop counting the days you've been single?

There was a strange duality to it. You hated and loved being single, a paradox you couldn't escape. You despised how your body ached for physical touch for intimacy, yet you relished the freedom of not being tied down to anyone. Maybe it was the aftereffect of that toxic, possessive relationship you barely escaped. But, oh, how you longed for the warmth of another human’s touch.

You've had your share of one-night stands in the past, long before your first real relationship. They were empty, fleeting encounters that left you feeling hollow. So, you stopped, refusing to return to that endless cycle of meaningless desire. Yet, lately, the thought of going back crossed your mind. But the idea of being satisfied by just any random man no longer appealed to you. It was a dilemma you couldn’t seem to resolve—a yearning for connection that couldn't be fulfilled by just anyone.

As you sipped your coffee, lost in your thoughts, the door to your office creaked open. You glanced up, and there he was—Chuuya Nakahara, the one person whose presence you both dreaded yet expected. He walked in with that usual air of authority, his expression already bordering on annoyance.

He handed you a file, his eyes narrowing slightly as he did so. "Good morning," he muttered, his tone curt, before turning on his heel to leave.

You watched him with irritation and confusion bubbling up inside you. Chuuya was one of the few people in the mafia who didn’t seem to act normal around you. Everyone else kept their distance, thanks to Mori’s strict orders. Your attractiveness had made you untouchable, quite literally. No one dared to look your way, let alone flirt with you. But Chuuya? He was different.

"Why does he hate me so much?" You wondered, frustration gnawing at you. You couldn't recall a single interaction between you two that didn't end in some form of argument or cold standoff. Working with him was a nightmare, a constant clash of wills that left you drained.

You opened the file he handed you, trying to push thoughts of him out of your mind. But it was no use; the way he acted, the way he seemed to go out of his way to be difficult, it all kept nagging at you.

As you tried to focus on the task at hand, you couldn’t help but wonder—was it really hatred he felt toward you, or was there something more hidden beneath that tough exterior?

The day passed in a blur of paperwork and meetings, with no further interactions between you and Chuuya. You crossed paths once, briefly, neither of you saying a word, just a cold exchange of glances before moving on. The tension between you two was palpable, but neither of you made any effort to break it.

As the evening set in, you stepped out of the mafia headquarters and onto the pavement, waiting for your chauffeur. The city was settling into its usual nighttime rhythm, the hum of distant traffic filling the air. You absentmindedly watched the railway, your mind drifting as you pulled out a cigarette. But before you could light it, you felt a few drops of rain on your hand. You sighed as you opened your umbrella with one hand while continuing to fumble with the lighter in the other.

After several failed attempts, you cursed under your breath, frustration getting the best of you. Just then, a flicker of light appeared in front of your face. It wasn’t your lighter. You looked up, surprised to see Chuuya standing beside you, holding out his lighter. His expression was as unreadable as ever, though there was a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

You leaned in, the tip of your cigarette meeting the flame. Taking a slow drag, you felt the warmth of the smoke fill your lungs as you watched Chuuya put his lighter back into his pocket, rolling his eyes as if lighting your cigarette was the last thing he wanted to do. He turned his gaze away, clearly disinterested.

You slipped your useless lighter into your pocket, holding your cigarette between your burgundy lips.

“Thanks,” you muttered, your voice nonchalant before taking another drag.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the only sound being the soft patter of rain against the pavement. You wondered what had prompted him to offer you a light. Was it just a reflex, a simple act of decency? Or was there something more behind it? Whatever it was, you knew better than to dwell on it.

You stood there under your umbrella, cigarette in hand, your gaze drifted back to Chuuya. He was waiting for his chauffeur as well, standing just a few feet away under his own umbrella. You couldn’t help but admire his features—the sharpness of his azure fox-like eyes, the softness of his lips, the perfect angles of his cheekbones. There was no denying that he was attractive, irritatingly so.

But the admiration quickly turned into something else—annoyance, frustration. Ugh, you hated him. No matter how attractive he was, that didn’t change the fact that you despised everything about him. The way he always seemed to be annoyed with you, the way he acted as if you were a thorn in his side.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize how long you had been staring until Chuuya suddenly turned and caught you. His sharp eyes locked onto yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you moved. Then, his expression hardened, and he glared at you with that familiar look of irritation.

You rolled your eyes, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had caught you off guard. You took another drag of your cigarette, trying to act as if you hadn’t been caught staring. But you could feel the tension in the air, thick and almost palpable.

He didn’t say anything—just continued to glare at you, as if daring you to make the first move. But you refused to play his game. Instead, you looked away, focusing on the rain that continued to fall around you.

As the silence stretched on, you couldn’t help but break it with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “Something on your mind, Nakahara?” His persistent stare felt intrusive, and you were fed up with the unspoken tension between you two.

Chuuya shifted his gaze forward, ignoring your question. His expression remained set in a scowl, the kind that suggested he was as tired of the situation as you were. He didn't bother responding, choosing instead to focus on the approaching headlights of his own chauffeur's car.

The lack of response only fueled your irritation. “Seriously, you’re just going to stand there and glare at me without saying a word?”

He finally turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with an exasperated look. “I’m not in the mood for conversation,” he said tersely. “And clearly, neither are you.”

You bristled at his words, the tension between you both palpable. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Or at least stop making it so obvious you can’t stand being around me.”

Chuuya’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t respond immediately. The rain continued to fall, the noise around you becoming a backdrop to the uneasy silence that had settled between you. Finally, he gave a curt nod, his voice low. “Whatever you think, just… keep it to yourself.”

Before you could retort, his chauffeur's car pulled up beside him, and he turned away, his demeanor shutting down the conversation. “Good night,” he muttered, stepping into the car without a backward glance.

As Chuuya’s car pulled away, you were left standing in the rain, feeling irritated. The brief encounter had done nothing to resolve the tension between you two; if anything, it had only deepened it.

You took one last drag from your cigarette before tossing it onto the wet pavement, letting the rain extinguish its smoldering end. You huddled under your umbrella, watching the darkening cityscape with a sense of disillusionment.

Minutes later, your own chauffeur's car arrived. You slid into the backseat, your mood sour and your thoughts swirling. The car's interior was a stark contrast to the damp chill of the evening—warm, dry, and oddly comforting. But even as you settled into the plush seat, your mind was still fixed on Chuuya.

"Why did he always act like that?" You constantly wondered, replaying the conversation in your head. It was clear he had some sort of issue with you, but what was it? The unspoken animosity between you was as frustrating as it was inexplicable.

The days following your brief interaction with Chuuya fell back into the familiar routine of terse exchanges and cold silences. The only time you and Chuuya spoke was during the occasional meetings or when you had to pass on files or reports. Those interactions were always brief and professional, but the underlying tension remained an unspoken barrier between you two.

The afternoons were typically consumed by paperwork. As one of the most trusted executives in the mafia, you were no stranger to the piles of reports, updates, and various documents that demanded your attention. Yet, there were always certain documents that Mori seemed to insist you stay away from, and despite your best efforts, you never quite understood why. It was an irritation that lingered in the back of your mind, adding to the daily grind.

One afternoon, as you sifted through a particularly dense stack of paperwork, you heard a knock at your office door. Tachihara, one of the trusted members of the organization, stood there with a polite bow. His presence was a welcome break from the monotony.

You looked up from your paperwork, surprised by Tachihara's visit. You hadn’t expected to be summoned by Mori, especially given how preoccupied he seemed lately with various secretive matters.

“Boss is waiting for you in his office,” Tachihara informed you, his tone respectful but direct. You nodded, setting aside the papers and straightening up.

“Thank you, Tachihara-kun” you replied, rising from your desk. You adjusted your skirt and smoothed out your appearance before making your way to Mori’s grand office.

As you walked through the maze of corridors leading to the boss’s office, you couldn’t shake the sense of unease. Mori’s meetings were often shrouded in mystery, and you never quite knew what to expect. When you finally reached his office, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door and waiting for permission to enter.

“Come in,” Mori’s voice called from within, and you opened the door, stepping inside.

Mori sat behind his imposing desk, his demeanor calm and collected as always. The room was richly decorated, with dark wood furniture and a few select pieces of art that spoke to his refined tastes. He looked up as you entered, his expression unreadable.

“My dear, please, have a seat,” Mori said, gesturing to the chair across from him. You settled into the chair, maintaining a professional posture as you awaited his instructions.

“I have a special assignment for you. It’s both simple and complex, and I need someone with your skills and discretion.” he said casually.

You nodded, bracing yourself. “What’s the mission?”

Mori leaned forward slightly, his hands steepled in front of him. “There’s a rising criminal organization that’s been making waves. We need to infiltrate them and obtain some critical information. The task is straightforward—get the information and report back.”

You listened attentively, already mentally preparing for the infiltration process. But then Mori dropped a bombshell. “Your partner for this mission will be Chuuya Nakahara.”

Your heart sank. Chuuya was, without a doubt, the most difficult person to work with in the mafia. The constant friction between you two was practically irritating, and the thought of being paired with him on a covert mission was daunting.

“Chuuya?” you echoed, trying to keep the disbelief out of your voice. “Are you sure about this?”

Mori’s expression remained inscrutable. “Yes. He’s one of the best we have, and his skills will be invaluable for this mission. I trust you both to handle it.”

Before you could voice more objections, Mori continued, “There’s another aspect to this mission. You’ll need to deliver a copy of the information to Dazai.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Dazai? But he’s—”

“—with the agency, yes,” Mori interrupted. “However, the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency are temporarily joining forces for this mission. It’s a strategic alliance, and Dazai will be the point of contact on their end.”

The mention of Dazai brought a flood of questions to your mind. You had heard his name in passing but knew very little about him. The thought of meeting him, combined with the fact that you had to work with Chuuya, was overwhelming.

“Can you tell me more about Dazai?” you asked, hoping Mori might elaborate.

Mori’s gaze turned distant for a moment before he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. What you need to know will be provided as the mission progresses. Just focus on the task at hand and coordinate with Chuuya.”

You felt a surge of frustration. “What about Chuuya and me working together? How do you expect us to manage that?”

Mori’s lips curled into a faint smile. “You both have your skills and abilities. It’s time to put them to the test. Consider this a chance to prove yourselves.”

With that, Mori dismissed you, leaving you with a heavy sense of foreboding. You rose from your chair and made your way out of his office, your thoughts racing. The mission itself seemed manageable, but the prospect of working closely with Chuuya and the unknown variables involving Dazai was already making your head spin.

You headed back to your office to prepare for the mission, the prospect of your new partnership with Chuuya hanging over you like a dark cloud. The thought of dealing with him on top of everything else was more than a little unsettling.

The next day, you met with Chuuya at the designated briefing point. His usual stoic expression never left his face, and you braced yourself for the inevitable tension.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, barely acknowledging your presence. “The sooner we get in and out, the better.”

You sighed inwardly but kept your expression neutral. “Fine."

The mission went surprisingly smoothly. The criminal organization was unprepared for the level of infiltration and precision you and Chuuya brought. You moved efficiently, gathering the necessary intelligence and completing your objectives with minimal interaction. Chuuya’s demeanor remained as distant and curt as ever, his usual aloofness never wavering. It was almost as if he were a machine, functioning solely to execute the tasks at hand.

By the time you finished, you were both back at the car Mori had sent. It was an extravagant vehicle, a sleek black limousine with tinted windows and plush leather seats. The interior was adorned with rich wood paneling and ambient lighting, making it feel more like a mobile lounge than a mere car. The ride was comfortable, but the tension between you and Chuuya was palpable.

As you settled into the seat across from him, you tried to break the silence. “You did a good job, Nakahara,” you said, aiming for a tone of genuine appreciation despite the usual friction between you two.

Chuuya’s eyes remained fixed on the window, his posture rigid. “Whatever,” he replied curtly, barely sparing you a glance.

You frowned, the audacity!! “Seriously, you can’t even acknowledge a compliment? What’s your deal?”

He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a defensive glint. “I don’t need your praise. Just doing my job.”

You leaned forward, trying to gauge his reaction. “It’s not about needing praise. It’s about working together and showing a bit of respect. Why do you always act like this?”

Chuuya’s expression hardened, and he seemed to bristle at the question. “You think I’m just going to open up? Don’t flatter yourself.”

The defensiveness in his voice was unexpected, almost endearing in its own way. “I’m not asking you to spill your guts. I just want to understand why you’re so cold with me all the time.”

He shifted in his seat, his gaze still locked on the window but his voice softer. “I’ve got my reasons, alright? Maybe I don’t like dealing with people who make things complicated.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the hint of vulnerability in his words. “And you think I’m the one making things complicated? We’re both part of the same organization, Chuuya. We need to be able to work together without this constant friction.”

He looked at you, his eyes betraying a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or confusion. “It’s not that simple. I don’t know how to… change things.”

“Change things?” you muttered, and he did not respond but rather shifted his focus on the cityscape beyond the car window.

You watched him from across your seat, trying to decipher the complexity behind his cold exterior.

Despite his stoic demeanor, there was a certain magnetism about him. You couldn’t ignore the effect his presence had on you—irritating, frustrating, but undeniably compelling.

As for Chuuya? he certainly didn't hate you—he’d be a fool to think that! In reality, he was drawn to every part of you. The short black skirt and sheer tights that accentuated your plush thighs seemed to torment him, despite his efforts to ignore it. The struggle was evident in the way his fingers tensed and relaxed, and the subtle clenching of his jaw—it was all a clear sign of the internal conflict he was battling.

That day, when you bent down to pick up the paper that had slipped from your file. As you leaned forward, his eyes couldn't help but follow, and that's when he noticed—today, you weren’t wearing your usual sheer tights. Instead, the lace of your black thong was clearly visible, highlighting the soft, plush curve of your butt. The sight was enough to make his cock semi-hard aching for you, his breath catching as he quickly averted his gaze, struggling to rein in the sudden, intense desire that gripped him that day.

Chuuya had to muster every bit of self-control not to reach out, not to let his fingers trace the exposed skin that teased him so relentlessly. The image of your laced thong was burned into his mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else for the rest of that day. Every time he blinked, he saw you—bent over, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him. It was driving him nuts, how effortlessly you could push him to the brink without even realizing it.

That's why he had always kept his distance, his cold demeanour serving as a shield against both his growing desire for you and the need to comply with Mori's orders—after all, disobedience would mean his head on a silver platter. Yet, the more time he spent around you, the harder it became to resist the pull. Your effortless elegance and the way you leaned forward during conversations, with your shirt casually undone just enough to accentuate your perfect breasts, only deepened his torment, making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you, you—how breathtakingly beautiful you were.

The next leg of the mission was to meet with Dazai. As you arrived at the designated location, a chic café in a quieter part of town well, technically it was below the agency's base exactly, you tried to shake off the lingering tension from your interactions with Chuuya. You were greeted by Dazai, who was waiting with a relaxed yet attentive posture.

The moment you stepped in, Dazai's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration. He swiftly approached you, a charming smile on his face. “So, you’re the renowned beauty of the Port Mafia,” he said, taking your hand in his and pressing a light kiss to it.

Chuuya, who had followed closely behind, immediately scoffed, his irritation fairly noticable as he growled. “Back off, shitty Dazai.”

You offered a brief, polite smile but said little, your focus on the task at hand. With a practiced ease, you handed over the copy of the information to Dazai. There was no need for further pleasantries or small talk; the mission was complete, and your departure was already on your mind.

After a terse farewell, you left the café, yet you wanted to know more about him. Why did they call him the demon prodigy? He looked like an angel.

Back at the headquarters, you and Chuuya were debriefing with Mori. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension, and as usual, Chuuya was terse and uncooperative. You handed over the details of the mission, and Mori's response was as enigmatic as ever.

"Excellent work," Mori said, though his gaze lingered on you as if gauging your reaction to the assignment. "I trust you both performed to the best of your abilities."

You nodded, and once Mori dismissed you, you left his office and made your way back to your desk. The weight of the day's events still hung over you.

Over the next few days, you threw yourself into paperwork, using it as a distraction. But the nagging thoughts about Dazai grew harder to ignore. When you finally finished your backlog of documents, you decided to act on your impulsivity.

You made your way to the Archive Storage Room on the second floor of the building. It was an area that prohibited from visit, and you were confident that you wouldn’t be disturbed. You took extra precautions, ensuring that no one was following you before entering the room.

Inside, the dim lighting and the smell of old paper greeted you. The Archive Storage Room was filled with rows of filing cabinets and dusty boxes. You approached the computer in the corner, its screen flickering to life as you powered it up.

You typed in "𝙾𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞 𝙳𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒" and watched as the search results loaded. The information that appeared was both astonishing and unsettling. The screen displayed details about Dazai’s criminal history—records of his rise in the underworld, his notorious reputation, and an extensive list of crimes.

Youngest mafia executive in history. Counts of conspiracy to murder, extortion, and assorted fraud. The numbers were staggering: 138 counts of conspiracy to murder, 312 counts of extortion, and 625 counts of assorted fraud, among other serious offences.

As you absorbed the details, you felt a chill. The contrast between the man you had seen and the criminal profile on the screen was jarring. Was Dazai truly as enigmatic and multifaceted as he seemed? Or was there something more sinister beneath his charming exterior?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a noise outside the room. You quickly shut down the computer, your heart racing.

You froze for a moment, listening intently to the sounds outside. It was faint but persistent, suggesting someone was approaching.

Suddenly, you noticed a door to a nearby storage room that seemed to lead somewhere different. It was marked as a liquor store room and had a password lock. You hadn't known the combination, but lucky you, the door was slightly ajar. Without thinking twice, you slipped inside, hoping it would provide some temporary refuge.

The room was dimly lit, filled with rows of bottles and crates stacked haphazardly. You stood in the middle of the room, trying to steady your breathing and listen for any signs of movement. Just as you were about to move further into the room, you felt a firm hand grab your arm and yank you backward.

A hand was pressed over your mouth, muffling your gasp. You were pulled into a tight corner of the room, hidden behind a stack of crates. Panic surged through you as you struggled.

"Shhh, you're gonna get us caught," a familiar voice hissed.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the voice—Chuuya?

He kept his hand firmly over your mouth, his breath warm against your ear. You could feel the tension in his body as he pressed you back into the corner, his own form shadowy against the dim flickering light coming from the outside of the archive room.

"Don't make a sound," he murmured, keeping his voice low. His eyes darted towards the ajar door, watching for any sign of intrusion.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered fiercely, trying to keep your voice down. “And why are you hiding with me?”

Chuuya glanced around. His expression was clearly uneasy. “I was following you. I knew you’d be up to something. Mori has his eyes on you, and I didn’t want you getting into trouble. We need to get out of here before someone finds us.”

You stared at him, bewildered by his unexpected appearance and his protectiveness. “I didn’t ask for your help, Nakahara.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze scanning the room. “I didn’t ask to be put in this position either,” he muttered.

As you and Chuuya pressed against the tight corner, the proximity of your bodies intensified the tension. His breath was warm and rapid against your neck, carrying the distinct scent of alcohol—had he been drinking before following you? The dim flicker of light from outside illuminated his azure eyes, half-lidded and filled with a mixture of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. His hands rested beside your small frame, effectively trapping you in the confined space.

The close contact made your heart race. You could feel his heartbeat pounding in sync with your own, a rhythmic reminder of just how near you were to him. His hot breath against your neck and jawline was almost too much to bear. The sensation made your stomach sink with... pleasure?

It had been a long time since you were this close to anyone, let alone someone as fucking Chuuya Nakahara. The air between you was charged, every movement of his body against yours making your cunt clench around nothing dripping with arousal—fucking get a grip! Are you really that desperate for him?

As the footsteps continued to echo outside, you remained still, acutely aware of every sensation. Then, suddenly, it registered—you felt the unmistakable bulge press against your thighs. The realization hit you like a wave, and a surge of desire took over your whole body.

Your mind was suddenly consumed by a singular, overpowering urge. Despite the circumstances and the years of walls you had both built around yourselves hating each other's guts, the thought of pressing your lips against his beautiful pink ones was almost overwhelming. The attraction, once a mere undercurrent, had become an undeniable urge that you couldn’t ignore.

Chuuya’s eyes fell to your lips, a soft pink tint colouring his cheeks—whether from the alcohol or something more. A few strands of hair stuck to his temple and forehead, damp with sweat, as his breathing grew increasingly erratic. The closeness between you, along with how delicious and obedient you looked beneath him, made every second feel like an eternity. You both knew that one move, one breath too close, could change everything.

You swear to heavens that you tried desperately to focus on anything, but the overwhelming sensation of his twitching bulge against your thighs was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"Chuuya.." Your curiosity got the better of you, as you whispered, “Why are you protecting me?”

You shifted slightly, feeling the unmistakable pressure of his bulge growing with each passing second against your thighs.

“Shut up,” he snapped, his voice still low. Before you could react, he crushed his lips against yours, kissing you deeply and passionately, tasting every bit of you as if he wanted to savour the moment completely, to memorise how hot your lips felt between his wet ones.

His lips moved against yours with an intensity that took your breath away, his hand tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. The tension that had been simmering between you two finally erupted in this heated moment.

You could feel his body pressed firmly against yours, his heartbeat thudding wildly in sync with your own. His other hand slid down to your waist, pulling you against him. The sensation of his hard length pressed against your clothed aching core sent a shiver through you, making you beg for more, how much did you miss this? Not the touch from any other man, but a man like him.

His lips left yours only briefly, his breath ragged as he pulled back to gaze at you. His azure eyes were dark, filled with desire. His cheeks were flushed, and his usually composed demeanor had completely unraveled. “I fucking hate you so much,”

You stared at him, still breathless from the kiss, your mind reeling from the sudden turn of events. The desire that you kept buried for so long surged to the surface, impossible to ignore any longer. The way he looked at you, with such raw need despite his words, sent a jolt of heat straight to your now-dripping cunt.

“Oh...I can tell, but no matter how much you hate me, you still want this.” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but he heard you.

His lips crashed onto yours with a fervent, insatiable hunger. His kisses were wild and demanding, each one more fervent than the last, making your stomach crumble in desire, the way he sucked on your lips, titling your head to deepen the kiss, tongue darting inside your hot mouth and dancing with your own, hot saliva dripping from your lips as he continues his open-mouthed kissing, hot breaths mixed together with low whimpers.

He suddenly pulled away, breaking the intense kiss. He held up a hand, signaling for you to stay quiet as he focused on the sounds outside the liquor store room. The muffled footsteps that had been approaching earlier now moved away, growing fainter with each passing second. He strained to listen, his sharp senses alert. After what felt like an eternity, a distinct thud echoed through the room as the door to the archive storage slammed shut. Whoever had been snooping around was now gone.

“They’re gone,” Chuuya whispered, more to himself than to you, as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Without missing a beat, you lowered yourself to your knees before him, your eyes never leaving his. Chuuya tensed, watching your every move, he frowned his eyebrows, eyes half-lidded with desire. His usual confidence wavered for a split second, and he mumbled, “This… this is a bad idea.”

But you didn’t care. The heat between you was too much to resist, and the thrill of what you were about to do only fueled your desire. Ignoring his words, you pressed your face against his clothed cock, feeling its hardness through the fabric. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his as he stared down at you, his expression a betraying an overwhelming lust.

"Just let me taste you... please." Wait—did you just beg him? What is wrong with you!

“Fuck…” he cursed under his breath, his voice strained as he clenched his fists, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But the way you looked at him, your lips so close to his aching cock, the heat of your breath making him shiver, combined with your desperate, pleading tone, was more than he could bear, he just couldn't hold back.

His hips jerked slightly, a reflexive response to the heat of your breath seeping through the fabric.

You could feel his length twitch beneath the cloth, and a thrill ran through you at the power you held over him in this moment. Your fingers trailed up his thighs, brushing over the firm muscles hidden beneath his clothes, before finding the button of his trousers. You deftly undid it, feeling the tremor that ran through his body at the simple motion.

“Hmm doll..” he rasped, his voice hoarse with need. His hands twitched at his sides as if fighting the urge to reach out and grab you, to pull you even closer. “Mori would have my head on a platter. Do you really want that? You should stop—mm, fuck…”

But the way his cock strained against the fabric, begging for release, told a different story. You ignored his half-hearted protests, slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers and boxers to free him. The moment his thick, throbbing length sprang free, you couldn’t help but admire the sight before you—his flushed cock, already slick at the tip with precum, practically pulsing with the need for your touch.

Your lips brushed against the head, tasting the salty sweetness of his arousal. Chuuya groaned above you, the sound vibrating through the small room and setting your nerves on fire. His hand finally found its way into your hair, tangling in the strands as he fought to keep control of himself.

“Argh… doll,” he groaned again, but there was no longer any resistance in his tone. Only raw, unfiltered need.

You licked a slow, deliberate line from the base of his cock to the tip, savoring the way his breath hitched, his grip tightening in your hair. Then, without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him as you sank down, taking him as deep as you could.

“Fuck! Hmmph” Chuuya cursed, his hips bucking involuntarily as you began to move, your head bobbing in a steady rhythm. The gloved hand in your hair tightened, not to push you away, but to hold you in place, as if he couldn’t bear to lose the sensation of your warm, wet mouth around him.

You could feel him trembling above you, the tension in his body coiling tighter with each passing second. His other hand came to rest against the wall, steadying himself as his control slipped further away.

Every time you glanced up at him, you saw the struggle on his face, the way his normally composed expression had completely unraveled into one of pure, desperate desire. His azure eyes, usually so sharp and focused, were now dark and heavy-lidded, consumed by the pleasure you were giving him.

“Doll…,” he gasped, his voice rough as he looked down at you, eyes blazing with more lust. “Stop looking at me like that.”

But you didn’t slow down, didn’t stop. Instead, you doubled your efforts, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head with every upward stroke. You could feel him twitching in your mouth, the telltale sign that he was close, so close.

“Shit… Haah— doll, I—” Chuuya’s mere warning came out in a choked groan as his hips jerked forward, his control finally snapping. He tried to pull away, but you didn’t let him, keeping him locked in place as you took him to the hilt, swallowing around him as his cock twitched spilling out ropes of hot cum into your mouth with a ragged cry.

The taste of him flooded your senses, hot and salty, and you swallowed every drop, your tongue working to coax every last bit of pleasure from him. Chuuya’s body shuddered with the force of his release, his hand loosening in your hair as he struggled to catch his breath.

Finally, when you were sure he had nothing left to give, you pulled back, licking your lips as you looked up at him. His eyes were half-lidded, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he stared down at you, still breathless and trembling.

You grinned up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest as you savored the sight of him, thoroughly undone and utterly at your mercy. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before following me,” you teased, your voice laced with playful defiance.

He scoffed as he pulled you up to your feet, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, almost desperate kiss. His hands gripped your hips, holding you close as if he couldn’t bear to let you go. He could feel the remnants of his release still on your tongue, the taste of him mingling with the intensity of the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, his breath ragged and heavy, you thought that might be the end of it. But then his eyes darkened with renewed hunger, and you realized he wasn’t nearly done with you.

“You think I’m finished doll... hmm?” he rasped.

Before you could respond, his hand, now fully beneath your skirt, slid higher, tracing the curve of your inner thigh as he pushed your legs apart with his perfectly toned ones. The rough pads of his fingers met the delicate lace of your panties, and he tugged them down with a swift, impatient movement, letting them drop to the floor.

You gasped as his hand moved back up, fingers brushing over your aching core, slick with need. The sensation was too much, each touch sending sparks of pleasure in your stomach. His breath hitched as he felt how wet you were, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Fuck, doll... already s‘ wet from just sucking my cock?” he muttered against your lips as he lets out a shaky chuckle. His fingers circled your clit, teasing, before slipping between your folds, one finger then two and now three? You arched into him, your back pressing against the cold wall. His long neat bare fingers curling inside you expertly to find that spot that made your knees weak—when did he manage take off his gloves?

You bit your lip to keep from crying out, the sensation overwhelming, but he wasn't having any of it. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me hear you, doll face.” he whispered, his fingers moving faster, slipping inside you with a sudden, rough thrusts. The sensation ripped a moan from your throat, and you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself, your nails digging into his white dress shirt shirt.

Chuuya chuckled, his lips brushing against the side of your neck "You smell s‘ delicious. Did you wear that perfume just to tease me, hmm?" His fingers deftly unbuttoned your shirt with one hand, his other hand continued its relentless, fast thrusts inside you. When he finally exposed your laced bra, he paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing with appreciation as he took in the sight of the perfect curve of your soft breasts. "Matching bra and panties—it's as if you're begging for it. Were you scheming something nasty in that pretty head of yours?"

He yanked the cups of your bra down, exposing your breasts to his hungry eyes. His hands were quick to follow, kneading and squeezing as his hot mouth closed around your hard nipples, sucking and nibbling with a soft whimpers indicating that he's enjoying it as well. He continued to finger you, his pace growing more insistent.

You were lost in the sensation, your head falling back as he played with your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers slipped in and out of you, curling just right to hit that perfect spot that made your vision blur with pleasure.

“Chuuya... please,” you gasped, not even sure what you were begging for, but desperate for more. The heat between you was unbearable, the air thick with tension and the scent of sex.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

Without warning, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and desperate for more. You barely had time to protest before he spun you around, pushing you against the cold wall causing you to gasp from the surprise switch.

His hands gripped your hips, as he positioned himself between your legs and lining himself up with your entrance, his tip pressing against your slick folds.

With one swift thrust, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely. The sudden stretch made you cry out, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the sensation overwhelmed you. He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he began to move, each thrust deep and hard, driving you closer to the edge with every stroke.

“Fuck, you feel s‘ good, s‘ fucking tight fuck fuck-” he growled as he kissed and sucked on you exposed neck.

The sound of skin against skin echoed in the small, dimly lit room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and his ragged breathing.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Fuck! I hate you ah— so fucking much.”

His words sent a thrill of something dark and intoxicating through you, the blend of pleasure and pain blurring the line between hate and desire. You could feel him everywhere—his cock driving into you with relentless force, his breath hot against your skin, his hands roaming over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You were losing yourself to him, the pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, every whispered curse and growl pulling you further into the abyss of raw, unfiltered lust.

“I hate how much I want you,” Chuuya hissed, his voice ragged with need. “I hate how fucking good you feel… how your walls tighten around my cock—ahh fuckkk.”

His pace quickened, his hips slamming into you with desperate intensity as he chased his own release, dragging you along with him. You could feel the tension building in your core, your body coiling tighter and tighter until you thought you might snap.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, you did. The orgasm surged through you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and gasping for air.

Chuuya wasn't far behind, his own release following seconds later as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot ribbons of cum shots. He held you close, his body shuddering against yours as he rode out the last waves of his orgasm.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the harsh, ragged breathing of the two of you, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Chuuya stayed inside you for a moment longer, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

When he finally pulled out, you both were left panting and spent, your bodies trembling with the aftermath of your intense orgasm.

he didn't waste a moment. With a swift motion, he lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and placed you onto one of the crates. The cold metal pressed against your hot bare skin.

Before you could catch your breath, he reached up to his neck, unfastening the choker that adorned his neck. Without a word, he grabbed your wrists and wrapped the choker around them, securing it tightly before locking you against another one of the crates behind you.

A wicked grin spread across his face as he dropped to his knees, his eyes dark with hunger while he looked up at you. He spread your thighs wider, his gaze fixed on your glistening core. The sight of you, flushed and dripping with the evidence of your shared passion, seemed to drive him wild. He leaned in, and just as his lips brushed your sensitive skin, he muttered, "Give me another one, I'm not letting you leave without drawing every tiny bit of you sweet cum."

Then, his mouth was on you, hot and relentless. You gasped as his tongue traced a path along your plush folds, teasing, tasting, savouring the mix of you and him. His hands slid up your thighs, holding you in place as he delved deeper, his tongue flicking and swirling in a way that made your head spin.

“Chuuya…t‘ much” you moaned as your hips bucked against his mouth despite your overstimulation. The sound of your own voice, desperate and breathless, echoed in the small room, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the incredible sensation of Chuuya’s tongue, expertly working you towards another peak.

He hummed in delight, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core. His tongue moved with precision now, alternating between soft, teasing licks and deep, penetrating thrusts that left you a trembling mess. He knew exactly how to push you to the brink, then pull back just enough to leave you aching for more.

“Fuck, you taste even better like this,” he growled against your flesh, his voice low and rough, filled with raw desire. He licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, before capturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching off the crate as you cried out in pleasure.

“please Chuu—ahh…” you let out a lewd moan, your voice hitching with every flick of his tongue. The need for release was a burning ache in your core, your body trembling as the pressure built higher and higher.

Chuuya’s grip tightened on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh as he held you in place. “I want to taste every drop of you. I'm not stopping until you come all over my face.”

His words, coupled with the relentless attention he lavished on your clit as you gasped, your body arching against the restraint as you instinctively pushed yourself against his hot tongue. The crate you were bound to groaned under the pressure, and with a sharp pull, it slid forward, causing a cascade of bottles to crash to the ground. The noise was loud, shattering the stillness of the room as glass broke all around you.

The impact sent you both tumbling to the floor, your body landing hard against the cold concrete. The crate you were tied to was now stuck between the wall and a stack of other crates, trapping your stretched arms above your head in a makeshift prison. For a brief moment, panic flashed through you, but Chuuya didn’t pause. It was as if the crash had only fueled his desire.

He growled, as you flinched and tried to push yourself upward, worried that you might have hurt him or that the situation was getting out of control. But he had none of it. His grip on your hips was iron-tight, and with a fierce pull, he dragged you back down to meet his hot wet mouth once again.

“Don’t even fuckin’ think about moving away,” he hissed roughly. His breath was hot against your sensitive clit as he resumed his assault, his tongue thrusting deep inside you, tasting every inch of your dripping core.

You were helpless to do anything but succumb to the overwhelming sensation. The position was awkward, your wrists still bound to the crate, but it only seemed to heighten the intensity of the moment. The cold floor pressed against your bare legs as Chuuya feasted on you like a man starved, completely pussy drunk, lost in the taste and feel of you.

Your body trembled with each flick of his tongue, and despite the crash and the chaos around you, all you could focus on was the incredible pleasure he was giving you. Your moans filled the room, echoing off the walls as you tugged against your restraints, needing to touch him, to feel his soft ginger locks between your fingers, to touch his utterly hot body.

Your vision blurred, your body straining as the coil of pleasure tightened in your core. “Chuu… please d-don't stop… ” you begged, your voice trembling with need.

Chuuya pulled you up slightly, roughly guiding you to straddle his lap. You were positioned over him, your knees planted on the floor as you faced him. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady. Without missing a beat, too overwhelming by your approaching orgasm you roughly sank onto his hard cock with a moan, feeling the intensity of his renewed desire. His cock was impossibly hard again—his third time getting erect tonight, as if he hadn't felt this kind of craving in years.

“Yess haah fuck yes doll... hmm take it, just like that,” he growled, his voice a low rasp. You began to move, riding him with a fervor, squeezing the life out of his thick cock with every thrust.

His cock pulsed inside you, and you could feel every throb as you moved with the crate still precariously lodged above your head and your hands bound, you were completely at his mercy.

"Fuck— I can't get enough of this" he gasped.

His words were a mere backdrop to the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you. Each grind was powerful, driving you to the brink of madness. His grip on your hips was possessive, pulling you down onto him with a force that made every motion even more intense.

Your legs trembled, muscles aching from the effort, as if you'd just finished a strenuous leg workout. He let out a shaky chuckle, feeling the quiver of your legs against his skin.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he lifted up a bit thrusting fast enough to make the crates shake, the remaining bottles crashing to the floor. The chaos around you seemed to enhance the wild energy between you. His hands moving to pull you down harder onto him, continuing his relentless assault on your now sore and overstimulated cunt.

You could feel the pressure building within you. The room was filled with the sounds of your desperate moans and Chuuya’s heavy breaths and lewd moans, the chaotic noise of broken bottles and the groaning crate only adding to the fevered atmosphere.

“Chuu—aaah fuck fuck fuck-” you gasped, your voice cracking as you struggled to keep control.

his hands tightening on your hips as he forced you down harder onto him. “Come all over fuckin’ my cock doll ah-,” he demanded roughly with his raspy voice cracking.

The combination of his unrelenting thrusts and the intense friction made your vision blur. You could feel the coiling pressure in your core reaching its peak once again, your body straining and trembling with need. The final push came when Chuuya’s movements grew more erratic, his grip on you tightening as he thrust into you with a force.

“Fuck fuck yes yes fuck me hard like that— don't stop please” you cried out, your voice breaking as the wave of orgasm crashed over you. Your body shuddered violently, the intense pleasure overwhelming every sense. The sensation of release seemed to go on forever, each pulse of your orgasm made your ears muffle with intense.

Chuuya wasn’t far behind. The moment he felt your juicies coat his rock-hard cock and drip onto the concrete beneath you both, he let out a loud lewd moan. His cock pulsed and throbbed inside you, each powerful spasm forcing him into an explosive climax. His grip on your hips tightened as he filled you with a forceful bursts of his cum, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

Chuuya, breath still heavy, fixed you with a wicked grin. “Seems like you could use a bit of help,” he said, his voice raspy from the intensity.

With a casual flick of his hand, he activated his gravity ability, and you felt the familiar shift in weightlessness and the red glow blinding your blurry eyes as your body was lifted off the ground. You gasped in surprise, feeling a thrill of anticipation as he gently guided you back onto the crate.

He carefully manoeuvred you into a sitting position on the crate. His touch is probably the best thing you've ever experienced in your entire life. As he adjusted you. His choker, which had been used to bind your wrists, was now in his hands. He unfastened it with deliberate, methodical movements, freeing you from the constraints.

“Better?” he asked, his tone a playful tease.

You nodded, catching your breath as you settled back onto the crate. The initial shock of the gravity shift had left you momentarily disoriented, but Chuuya’s presence was surprisingly comforting. He looked at you with a soft gaze, taking in your fuck-out appearance and the satisfied glow in your half-lidded eyes.

Chuuya’s smirk softened into a rare, genuine smile as he helped you off the crate, guiding you as you clambered down, the aftershocks of your climax still making your legs tremble slightly. His eyes remained locked on you, full of a possessive warmth.

"Careful now," he said, his voice soft but tinged with a lingering edge of command. "Don't want you falling over after all that."

You managed a shaky smile, feeling the rush of adrenaline and pleasure slowly ebbing away. Chuuya's hands were gentle as he helped you steady yourself, his touch tender despite the fierce passion that had just unfolded.

"Thanks," you breathed, finally finding your footing. "I didn't expect... well, this."

He chucked moving with a practiced ease as he pulled his pants up. He adjusted his belt, fastening it with a flick of his wrist and adjusting his choker around his neck.

You carefully buttoned up your shirt smoothing out any wrinkles trying to regain some semblance of composure, Chuuya leaned in one last time, his lips brushing against your ear. “This changes nothing,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “I still hate you.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, trying to stifle a smile. There was no heat in his voice, only a lingering tension that promised this wouldn’t be the last time you found yourselves in such a situation.

Despite his dismissive tone, Chuuya moved with surprising gentleness as he helped you out of the cramped storage room. His hands, wrapped around your waist guiding you carefully, ensuring you didn’t stumble as you both made your way back into the dimly lit corridor.

As you approached the elevator, you whispered, “Never doing this again.”

Chuuya chuckled, a low, amused sound that echoed in the quiet space. “Yeah, never,” he agreed, his tone laced with irony.

But deep down, both of you knew the truth. The words were merely a facade, a way to mask the undeniable reality that this—whatever this was—would indeed happen again. And again. And again.

NOTE: Hi, hi, my lovely pookies!! Since this fic won the poll voting, I started by publishing it first. The next one will be published *finger crossed* maybe by next Friday? if not before then, also I wanted to take a moment to thank you for all of your lovely comments and sweet feedbacks Xx. P.s : chuuya’s photo credit to @pigon_51 on Twitter / X.

➵Want more of Chuuya Nakahara?

©2024 @thewickedjazzy ─── please do not copy, translate, or post on any platform.

[milswrites]

Failed Dates and Fated Mates

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel had finally asked you on the date he has longed for ever since he met you. Only now the day has arrived, everything seems to be going wrong. Can Azriel still make this a night to remember or will his failed attempts of romance be enough to drive you away?

Warnings: None? (Ok maybe like one mention of snapping necks…and one mention of jumping someone)

The first thing that went wrong was that Azriel was late. Horribly late. In hindsight, planning a date on the same day that Rhysand had asked him to go and check on a rebelling war camp in Illyria was a terrible idea. Azriel had spent the latter part of his day glaring at the sinking sun, willing it to stay glowing in the sky for just a little while longer. Praying to the cauldron that the tedious meeting he had found himself trapped in would soon draw to an end, enabling him to promptly take his leave and fly back to Velaris as swiftly as his wings would allow.

But Azriel wasn’t so fortunate, the dull arguments still ongoing without an end in sight, the traitorous sun now beginning to softly kiss the horizon. The disgruntled shadowsinger sat and listened to the endless disagreements with a clenched jaw, resisting the urge to snap the camp leaders neck in order to put an abrupt end to this fruitless task Rhysand had assigned him.

Foot tapping impatiently against the floor, Azriel restlessly shifted in his uncomfortable seat as the final few words were spoken. The monotonous tone of the male speaking finally came to a blissful halt. Launching from his chair the very moment the meeting was finally over, Azriel flared his wings as he exited the dull tent, shooting up into the now night sky. The sight of the twinkling stars illuminating the swirling black canvas was usually a picture Azriel admired, yet now he found himself swearing at their appearance, their beaming light mocking his tardiness.

The cold bite of the wind numbed his reddened cheeks as he sped through the grey clouds. Cursing himself, Azriel wished he had never taken the mission. Anger building in his chest for being stupid enough to plan a date on the one day this month he was away from his home. Bitter that he had been too cowardly to ask Rhysand to move the meeting once he realized his mistake. So here he was, wings beating forcefully to carry him back to Velaris in as little time as possible, hoping that you would still be waiting for him. Praying that he hadn't spent months working up the courage to ask you on a date only to ruin it by not being there.

~~~~~

His heart never failed to cease its incessant pounding, even as he circled over Velaris in search of a florist where he could buy you some apology flowers in hope they’d make up for his tardiness. He practically threw his money at the startled vendor, snatching the first bouquet he laid his hands on, before once more furiously taking flight, this time in the direction of your home.

He landed roughly, knees buckling with the force at which he had landed. Anxiously stepping over the blooming plants he had crushed during his descent into your garden. Speeding to your door, he raised his shaky hand to knock against the wood. But before he even had the chance to do so, you opened the door as if you had been waiting there for him.

Azriel took the opportunity to admire you as he struggled to catch his breath after the exhaustion that had washed over him during his frantic flight. Allowing himself to take in your beautiful features he had spent the past few months admiring from a distance, noticing the extra effort you had put into your appearance for the date. The light dusting of rosy blush across your rounded cheeks and the deep rouge carefully painted onto your lips. Azriel was captivated, amazed at the skilled way you had highlighted your already perfect features. Trying to resist the hypnotizing urge to lean in and place a testing kiss against your plush lips. Wondering if the rouge would transfer onto his own, marking him as yours.

Chest still heaving, he pulled his arm from behind his back. Revealing the bouquet he had hurriedly bought you as an afterthought. Only, once he pulled them out to hand them to you, he was met with the sight of tangled stems, the violet petals having dropped from the flowers due to the hasty speed at which he had traveled.

Expletives rolled from his tongue at the disastrous direction this evening was already heading in. The date hadn't even begun and everything was already going wrong. But you, sensing his increasing frustration, happily grabbed the mangled stalks from his shaking hands, a teasing grin on your face as you spoke in an attempt to calm the male, “Looks like someone was desperate to see me! Surprisingly not the worst gift someone has given me on a date, I once got a half eaten bar of chocolate.”

“I’m so sorry,” he explained feverishly, beginning to ramble about the horrendous day he had endured, “Rhys sent me to some camp in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and I’ve been in meetings since dawn and I never thought they’d end and I tried to get here on time, I really did and-”

You interrupted his panicked explanation, “It’s ok Azriel, truly. We still have all night ahead of us. Unless you’d prefer to rest after the day you’ve had, in which case I don’t mind if you want to come in for a tea and we can just rearrange it.”

His nerves lessened at your gracious understanding, pounding heart beginning to settle in his chest. “I’d still like that date if I haven't messed up my chances?” he asked hopefully.

Flashing him a pleased smile, you lifted a hand to his hair and plucked out a rogue violet petal from your bouquet, laughing as you said, “you may want to prune yourself before we head off though.”

Azriel raised a scarred hand to his hair, attempting to shake out any of the petals which had found their home in his windswept locks, “better?”

“Almost” you hummed, carefully picking out the last few leaves from his unruly hair. “There,” you said, satisfied at a job well done, “back to your usual handsome self. Although I must admit purple is a good colour on you.” He blushed a deep shade of red at your words, shyly breaking eye contact before he offered a tentative arm for you to take, nervously mumbling as he did so, “shall we?”

~~~~~

The two of you walked contentedly through the cobbled streets of Velaris, Azriel helping to keep you steady as the thin points of your heels kept getting stuck between the uneven stones. He was leading you towards a fancy restaurant he had booked specially for the occasion, remembering how Cassian had raved about the good food and romantic atmosphere after he had taken Nesta there one evening. Swearing that his mate had never shown her appreciation of him more than after she was satisfyingly filled with their delectable food. Azriel hoping that you would enjoy it just as much as Nesta had.

You approached the hostess stand placed outside the heaving restaurant. Walking past a large, winding queue of people who hadn’t booked, eagerly waiting to see if there was a spare table available. Azriel, having walked here a week prior to make the reservation, ignored the line as he went to speak to the staff at the door, “Uh, a booking for Azriel please, party of two.”

The stern-faced hostess checked her books, haughtily flicking through the pages as her brows furrowed, stopping as she finally found the male’s name. “I’m sorry,” she said sharply, no remorse in her voice, “your reservation was for over an hour ago, we gave the table away to someone else.”

Azriel blanched, his face going deathly pale in his flustered panic. You tightened your grip on his arm in hope of easing his worry, opting to speak to the hostess for him before he sank into the shadows in embarrassment, “Is there any chance we could get another table? His work kept him for longer than expected. It was an unforeseen circumstance, we would have sent a message your way if we knew.”

The stone faced woman directed your attention to the long line of people which ran all the way down the street until it curled around the corner, flooding onto the next, “you can join the line like everybody else. Or get this, don’t miss your booking next time.” A miserable Azriel had to hold you back to prevent you from jumping the woman, showing her just what would happen if she continued speaking to you with her sour attitude.

“Fine. Fine!” You huffed, “we’ll find somewhere better. Come on Az.” With that it was your turn to lead the male, dragging him as far away from the restaurant and its insufferably rude staff as you could. The male groaned despairingly at the situation, “Cauldron I’m so sorry. I’ve really made a mess of things.” Brushed his negative words away you scoffed, “I think it’s for the best, wouldn’t want to eat at that snobby place anyway.”

Azriel’s sorrow-filled eyes landed on yours, “maybe we should call it a night? We can try again another day if you’d still want to? this night is a total failure.”

Rolling your eyes at Azriel's pessimistic attitude, you disagreed with the males intentions of ending the night early, “What? Azriel it’s fine! Come on we’ll find somewhere else, there's bound to be hundreds of better restaurants.”

~~~~~

Determined to find a better place than Azriel had booked, which by the look of things wouldn’t be difficult to do, you moved together through the winding streets. Azriel relaxing little by little as you worked to clear his memory of the bad day he’s been having as you talked animatedly with him, hungrily eyeing up every restaurant you passed.

The more and more you walked, locked deeply in an enthralling conversation, the further away you headed from the bustling streets which were full of life. Instead, finding yourselves in the remote backstreets of Velaris, the narrow winding streets home to a different type of breathtaking beauty than the rest of the swarming City.

You passed an empty restaurant, the sign bearing its name hanging on by a single rusted nail. Crooked wooden tables set outside, laden with slightly grubby checkered tablecloths. Anyone would have walked past this, opting to instead go and find a busier, better looking place to eat. But to you, the small restaurant was the perfect place for your date. “This one!” You enthusiastically declared, pulling slightly on Azriel’s hand to stop him from walking past the quaint building.

“Are you sure?” Azriel sounded unsure, having assumed that you would have wanted to be taken to somewhere nicer for your date than a hidden, grubby hole in the wall. “This one’s perfect,” you confirmed with a grin, leaning into the open door to speak to the elderly waiter who was sat in boredom at the counter. Gesturing to the table outside, you stirred him from his daydream, “Are you open? Do you mind if we sit here?”

The man startled to life, disbelief crossing his face that there were actually willing customers before him, ones he didn't have to drag in from the street. “Yes…Yes! Of course! Please, do sit down" he cheered, jumping to his feet before scurrying away to grab some menus.

Azriel helped you take a seat at the wobbly table before moving to sit himself. You closed your eyes in bliss, appreciating the cooling breeze which made the humid night air slightly more bearable. The exited waiter returned with a candle for the table and a cold bottle of wine which he poured into the two glasses for you, “On the house for such a beautiful couple.” The pair of you blushed, thanking the kind man for his generosity, ordering your food from the menu before he scurried off into the kitchen, undoubtedly going to make the food himself.

“I think this is much better than my choice” Azriel mused, eyes now seeing the hidden beauty of the place, smiling at the twinkling fairy lights above you which cast a warm yellow glow over the silent street. It was quiet enough that you could both enjoy a pleasant conversation together, not needing to shout at each other to be heard, nor needing to whisper lowly to avoid annoying any other customers. No, the two of you were free to fall into your own little world, loosing yourselves in a stimulating conversation.

~~~~~

The words flowed easily, never fading into an awkward silence. No, you could talk to Azriel forever and he would be all too happy to listen, so long as it meant getting to spend time with your magnetizing presence. His anxiety now forgotten, he allowed himself to enjoy what had turned out to be a perfect date, the two of you already able to joke about the previous events of the evening.

The food was divine, portions large enough that you could eat your fill until you were satisfied. Stomachs happily full as you continued to sit and drink at the rickety table as you talked for what must have hours.

Testing the waters, Azriel stretched out a tentative hand, hoping to connect it with your own which was resting on the table. Warm eyes never leaving your face as he slowly moved his hand along the top of the table, failing to notice the glass full of wine which was placed before you. Clumsily, he knocked over the glass. His shadows stirred to life, catching the glass before it completely fell over, yet failing to be quick enough to prevent the liquid from spilling all over your lap. The cold temperature of it causing you to squeal in shock.

“Shit!” Azriel cursed as he jumped from his seat, grabbing napkins to come and help pat the wine from your dress, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that! Cauldron I'm such an idiot.”

You placed a gentle hand on his wrist, stilling his panicked wiping which was making the damp stain on your dress worse. “Don’t worry Az,” you smiled sweetly, “it’s just some wine. It will wash out.”

The male sighed deeply, pinching his brow in exasperation, “this night really isn't going the way I wanted it to.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, smile never faltering for a minute, even when you were faced with the sullen male, “and how did you want it to go?”

Roughly plonking himself back into his seat, Azriel inhaled a deep breath before speaking, “well I would have been on time for starters. Then we would have eaten that nice meal, I definitely wouldn’t have spilled your drink all over you. And I booked us tickets for the theatre…which we have definitely missed by now. I just...I wanted to impress you."

“I’ve never really cared for theatre” you dismissed, “it usually puts me to sleep. And Az we did share a nice meal! You don't need to try and impress me, you already do that every day.” You lay your hand upon his, smoothly completing the move he had attempted to do to you, thumb lovingly caressing the scarred skin of his hand, not put off by the uneven skin that made Azriel feel self-conscious.

You sat in thought, thumb still absentmindedly brushing his skin, “you know what? Come on, this nights not over yet.”

You excitedly pulled the Illyrian to his feet, thanking the generous waiter as you tipped him nicely before taking your leave. This time walking through the streets of Velaris with a destination in mind.

~~~~~

Hand in hand, you and Azriel walked along the Sidra, admiring the way the water glistened underneath the moonlight, Approaching a small empty beach, comprised of small rounded pebbles rather than sand, you removed your shoes so you could walk along it. Holding them in your free hand, the one which wasn't locked in Azriel's warm hold, the two of you made your way onto the beach. Walking towards the Sidra, you released Azriel's hand, allowing your bare feet to be submerged by the chilling waters of the river.

“Do you come here a lot?” Azriel asked, appreciating the way you seemed at home here, feet happily kicking through the flowing water as it soaked through the bottom hem of your dress. You looked like a nymph, wandering the shores of a City that appeared alien compared to the natural beauty of this small hidden piece of paradise.

“Sometimes,” you shrugged, “it’s a good place to think. Nobody ever really comes here.”

“It’s beautiful” he concluded, eyes not straying from your angelic form, the moon perfectly placed behind your head like a halo.

“The perfect way to end an incredible date don’t you think?” You grinned, leaving the water to come and walk by his side, his wing moving to curl around you to protect you from the wind which was steadily getting cooler as the night progressed.

Azriel snorted, shoulder bumping against yours playfully, “I’d say it’s been far from perfect. You deserved a better night I’m sorry.”

“Will you stop saying sorry?” You begged, eyes rolling at how pathetic he was making this pleasant evening seem, “I didn’t say yes to a date because I wanted to go to a fancy restaurant or the theatre. I said yes, Azriel, because I wanted to spend time with you. I never cared about what we were going to do. I still don’t! I just wanted to be with you.”

Azriel suddenly stopped in his tracks, you turned around in order to face where he was stood. The male looked like a god. His large winged form illuminated by the soft, warming light of the City which was now far behind, his tangled mane of hair blowing lightly in the wind, as his well-structured face held a picture of surprise due to your words.

“But isn’t that what you’re supposed to do to get someone to like you?” He asked in confusion, Cassian had always told him how you had to treat a woman like a princess. That if you took her out and spoiled her there was absolutely no way in hell they would be able to resist your charm. But what you were saying, that you didn’t need to be spoiled because you just genuinely wanted to spend time with him, had Azriel questioning everything he thought he knew about women.

“You don’t need to do anything to make me like you Azriel. I already do, I always have. From the very moment I first laid eyes on you" you shrugged, unafraid to reveal your emotions for the male who made it all too easy to love him, "you’ve had my heart for longer than you realize, and one - admittedly slightly failed but not completely terrible date - isn’t going to convince me otherwise.”

"But why" Azriel questioned, still not quite understanding how you were so willing to look past everything that hand gone wrong, all caused by his own wrongdoing.

"Azriel I would sit through a million failed dates with you, it doesn't matter! Not if it means we're doing it together." You sighed as you took in his still bewildered expression. Were you really going to have to spell it out for him?

"Cauldron Azriel, you're my mate!" you revealed, trying not to laugh as the males face contorted from confusion to a catatonic stupor, his eyes widening in alarm at your confession. Grinning at his reaction you continued, "If being your mate means I have to love your tardiness, ruined gifts and incredibly poor taste in restaurants then Azriel I would happily sit through every failed date we have. Nothing is going to change how much I long to be with you."

"Mates?" he replied, a crooked smile forming on his face at the realization. Liking the way it sounded on his lips. "Yes!" you beamed, stepping towards his relaxing body so you could throw your arms around him. "So I didn't blow my chance?" he whispered into your ear as the two of you hugged tightly.

"For my mate? I'd give him all the chances in the world!" you answered truthfully, "Although hopefully on the next date you won't freak out as much if things don't go as planned."

"Honestly?" he shyly spoke, "I think there's going to be even more pressure on the next one now I know we're mates. I'm talking major freak outs." You laughed at his words, making a move before he could say anything else, pulling Azriel closer towards you and sealing your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

Lightning struck, and the heavens opened. Torrents of rain falling from the dark clouds which had suddenly blown in from the mountains. It took less than a minute for the rain to soak through your clothes and a minute more for the male to reluctantly pull away from the kiss with a groan. Raging eyes glaring up at the sky as if his anger could cease the heavy fall of water.

Giggling you pulled his chin down so he would face you once more, the rain flowing down your face aiding in cooling your warm skin, which had heated up from the burning desire that was birthed from the lustful kiss you had exchanged.

"Don't" you whispered through swollen lips, admiring the claiming way your lipstick had smudged against his skin, "It's perfect. You're perfect". The uncomfortable way his sodden clothes were clinging to his skin forgotten, Azriel connected his lips with yours once more. The storm that raged around you not enough to deter him from deepening the kiss, tongue meeting yours as you allowed yourselves to get lost in the moment, hidden away on the desolate beach.

And as your lips sensually worked together as one, Azriel finally came to the same conclusion you had. It wasn't how well a date goes that determines whether or not it's perfect. It's the person who’s with you. The kind of person who can find the humor and beauty of a moment whether it’s good or bad. Azriel had found that person, his other half. His mate. And perhaps, he mused to himself as the searing kiss continued, perhaps tonight wasn’t a complete and total failure. Something good did come from it after all.

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

Notes: My first time writing on my laptop and boy what a difference it makes lol. The half eaten bar of chocolate given as a gift on a date unfortunately actually happened 🙃

[reasonsforhope]

Note: Reasons to Be Cheerful has had weirdly huge formatting issues for the past six or so months, so if that version is a mess, this link should work better.

"Florida Power & Light Company (FPL), the Sunshine State’s largest power utility, employs all the people you might expect: electricians, lineworkers, mechanical engineers — and a few you might not. For over 40 years, the company has kept a team of wildlife biologists on staff. Their task? Monitoring the giant carnivorous reptiles that reside in one of the state’s nuclear power plants. 

Saving the American Crocodile

What sounds like a low-budget creature feature is actually a wildly successful conservation story. It goes like this: In 1975, the shy and reclusive American crocodile was facing extinction. Over-hunting and habitat decline caused by encroaching development had pushed its numbers to a record low. By 1975, when it was listed as endangered under the Endangered Species Act, there were only 200 to 300 left. 

Three years later, in 1978, workers at the Turkey Point nuclear power plant in Homestead, Florida happened upon something that must have made them gasp: a crocodile nest along one of the plant’s 5,900-acre “cooling canals.” Rather than drive the crocs away — perhaps the easiest solution — FPL hired a team of biologists and implemented a Crocodile Management Plan. Its goal was unconventional: provide a suitable habitat for the crocs within the workings of the nuclear power plant, allowing both to coexist.  

Over the course of the next 30 years, FPL’s wildlife biologists monitored nests, tagged hatchlings and generally created a hospitable environment for the reptiles. As it turned out, the plant’s cooling canals provided an ideal habitat: drained earth that never floods on which to lay eggs directly adjacent to water. Over the years, more and more crocs made the cooling canals home. By 1985, the nests at Turkey Point were responsible for 10 percent of American crocodile hatchlings in South Florida. In 2007, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service downgraded the American crocodile’s status from endangered to threatened, singling out FPL for its efforts. 

The program continues to this day. To date, biologists have tagged some 7,000 babies born at the plant. In 2021, there were a record-setting 565 crocodile hatchlings at the Turkey Point facility. 

"Reconciliation Ecology"

Turkey Point’s efforts are an example of what is known in the conservation world as “reconciliation ecology.” Rather than create separate areas where nature or animals can thrive in isolation from humans, reconciliation ecology suggests that we can blend the rich natural world with the world of human activity. Michael Rosenzweig, an emeritus professor of ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of Arizona, was a leading force in establishing this concept. The author of Win-Win Ecology: How the Earth’s Species can Survive in the Midst of Human Enterprise, Rosenzweig has pointed out that although human encroachment has typically been considered a threat to biodiversity, the notion that the world must be either “holy” or “profane,” ecologically speaking, is simply not true.  

“In addition to its primary value as a conservation tool, reconciliation ecology offers a valuable social byproduct,” writes Rosenzweig in his first chapter. “It promises to reduce the endless bickering and legal wrangling that characterize environmental issues today.”

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, May 5, 2022. Article continues below. All headings added by me for added readability.

Dr. Madhusudan Katti, an associate professor in the Department of Forestry and Environmental Resources at North Carolina State University, was inspired by Rosenzweig when he did his postdoc at Arizona State. Katti has now been in the field of reconciliation ecology for two decades and teaches classes on the subject. “To me it’s finding solutions to reconciling human development with biodiversity conservation,” Katti says.

This common ground between development and conservation can be consciously planned, like FPL managing a crocodile habitat at a nuclear power plant or the state-sponsored vertical gardens and commercial farms on high-rise buildings in Singapore. Other examples include the restoration of the coral reef around an undersea restaurant in Eilat, Israel, or recent legislation in New York City requiring patterned glass on high-rise buildings, making windows more visible to migratory birds. Other planned examples of reconciliation ecology can be more individually scaled: a rooftop garden in an urban setting, modifying your garden to earn a “backyard bird habitat” certification from the Audubon Society, or even just mowing your lawn less often...

Reconciliation Ecology: Nature's Already Doing It Without Us

But there are countless examples of “accidental” incidents of reconciliation ecology, as well. One of Katti’s favorites is the kit fox of California’s San Joaquin Valley. “The kit fox was one of the very first species listed on the Endangered Species Act,” Katti says. Its decline was caused by habitat loss through agricultural and industrial development, as well as the extermination of the gray wolf population, which led to an increase in coyotes. So kit foxes adapted and moved to new habitats. One of these was the city of Bakersfield, California.

“Bakersfield, surrounded by oil pumps, would be the last place you’d expect to find an endangered species,” Katti says. But researchers think kit foxes have migrated to Bakersfield because they actually have more protection there from predators like coyotes and bobcats. “The kit foxes have figured out that if they can tolerate the human disturbance and live with people, then they are safer from all these other predators,” he says. 

Living in the city has led to some interesting behavioral changes. In the wild, for instance, a female kit fox gives birth to her young and raises them by herself in a den. But in the city, researchers have observed multiple females raising their litters together in the same den. “It’s like a form of cooperative breeding,” Katti says. “That wouldn’t happen in the wild.” ...

The Big Picture: How We Think about Conservation

Reconciliation Ecology isn’t just we humans welcoming animals like crocodiles and foxes into our environments, though. It’s also living with nature in a way that most Western societies haven’t done since the Enlightenment. “In recent years, there’s been a recognition that the ‘fortress conservation’ model — keeping nature separated from humans and not thinking of or valuing human-inhabited landscapes — those ideas are outdated,” says Katti.

In fact, in Katti’s classes on reconciliation ecology, he embraces the notion of reconnecting people with their land if they have been unjustly separated from it. “The term reconciliation also applies to all the colonial legacies where both nature and people have been harmed,” Katti says. “For Indigenous communities, the harm done to ecosystems, it’s happened together. So you can talk about addressing both. That’s where a lot of my thinking is at the moment.” 

A hopeful version of this sort of reconciliation is happening in California where colleagues of Katti’s who are tribal members are re-introducing “tribal burns” in some areas. Controlled burns have been a part of many Indigenous cultures for millenia, both as a way to prevent devastating forest fires, but also to encourage the growth of certain plants like hazel that are used for basket-weaving and other crafts. 

“The notion that people don’t belong there and ‘let nature take care of itself’ doesn’t really work,” Katti says. “That’s the legacy of Western European Enlightenment thinking — a divide between human and nature. That is a real faulty view of nature. People have been part of the ecosystem forever.”

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, May 5, 2022

[barbiiecams]

rafe asking u to be his girlfriend would surprisingly be adorable!

you guys would have been talking for a good 5 months now, because of course he’s the ‘i’m not ready for a relationship’ king. but one day, he’d text you “be ready at 6 i have a surprise.”

you’d think it’s just another cute date he’s taking you out on, but you were completely wrong. he brings you back to his empty house after he kicked everyone out (except sarah cus who else was gonna help a boy out with this) to do this lil special thing for you.

the house was gorgeous. dim lights, candles, and rose petals trailing to the back yard where a beautiful set up table had a vase, and two plates of delicious food on each side which was definitely catered, his ass can’t cook.

“wow rafe.. this is amazing.” you looked around in shock as you kept walking outside.

he doesn’t say anything but he smiles a little bit, proud that you’re already loving this.

he pulled your chair out for you when you had made it to the table, then as soon as you sat down you guys started eating. but, you could tell rafe’s focus wasn’t on the food, or the endless conversation you were having.

eventually the conversing stopped, and for the first time in his life he seemed, nervous?

“i really appreciate spending time with you, y’know that?” he starts.

internally, you get all smushy cus he’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be!!

“i really appreciate spending time with you too,” you smile.

“yea. and i know we’ve been doing this for a while and i don’t know, something’s just missing.” he says.

“what do you mean?” you were genuinely confused. although he was dumb as hell sometimes, you were satisfied for the most part cus you were constantly spoiled.

he doesn’t respond tho. he just lets out a breath of air, then looks at the sky.

“wow..” he says.

when you looked up, you notice how gorgeous the stars were. he wasn’t saying wow about the stars tho. it was a skywriting that was up there.

in big bold letters said: “will you be my girlfriend?”

something about this really shook you. it was just so perfect, almost like a fairytale theme. a minute had passed by and you finally looked down to see rafe’s hopeful face.

“so?” he asks while standing up.

“i’ve been waiting!” you got up as well and immediately embraces him. it sounded like he let out a sigh of relief, happy to know he wouldn’t be rejected after almost half a year of only talking.

his arms are wrapped around your waist, while yours wrapped around his neck. he pulls away from the hug just to give you a nice, deep kiss.

the whole time, you really couldn’t help but wonder how long this could’ve possible taken. duh, he has money. but this couldn’t have been an easy task for him whatsoever.

you pull away, “how long did this take?”

“don’t worry about it.” he mumbles then goes straight to kissing you again. maybe the 5 months might’ve been worth it.

[atinysunbaby]

Request from : @ateezluvv

⌛Ateez Maknae line having a crush on you⌛

Hyung line

🖤Choi San🖤

You have been working at KQ for a few months now, as a songwriter and you were assigned a personal space with a desk, computer and everything needed for the process of your job. During the first few weeks, the manager wanted to test your capacities and see how well you work in a group project. He sent you through days of endless work and you managed all the pressure quite well.

Your coworkers helped in making your integration easier by being nice and friendly and you adapted better than you would've expected, and the atmosphere in the workplace is always pleasant. Up till now you've participated in the writing of a few songs and small projects for both ateez and xikers, meeting ateez only briefly during a meeting.

You're first impression is that they are polite and hardworking boys and although you were aware of their beauty, you weren't ready to be hit by such powerful visuals.

Later, you were told about a project coming up and you were proposed to work with San on his solo. You meet for the first time in your studio, San's dimple popping out and greeting you early in the morning and it instantly warms your insides.

"Good morning~ I brought you a coffee, I don't know if that's alright?" He asks, sleep lingering in his voice, you can tell by the deep and raspy tone that makes goosebumps rise on your skin the moment it hits your eardrums. "Oh yes that's perfect! Thank you, really."

Your answer seems to please him, as his teeth make an appearance and his eyes almost close from the strain. He sits next to you on the extra chair you bought a few days beforehand, preparing for this day and maybe future tasks. "Let's begin!"

Now over two weeks working together with San and you can't help but feel a bit sad that the song is almost ready, having spent a lot of alone time with him made you grow attached to the kind hearted and endlessly charming man. "I think we might be done."

Those words hit you harder than you thought, it feels like a train ran you over. You don't like the way your heart aches, but it is what it is. "I enjoyed working with you San, thank you."

He smiles for the nth time, but something's different about this one, it doesn't reach ihs eyes and the dimples aren't as defined. "Yeah, uhm.. me too! I hope we can do this again in the future."

The next few minutes are filled with a tense atmosphere, the only sound heard being the shuffling around as you both clean up and gather your things. "Actually."

You almost jump at the unpredicted sound of his voice, turning your full attention to him and it shocks you to find him fumbling with his lyrics sheets, ears and cheeks red, lips pressing together making his cute dimple face unresistible. "I was wondering if you'd be interested t-to go on a date with.. me?"

You freeze for a second, being surprised and absolutely pleased from the unexpected request. "I'd be happy to, of course San."

💚Song Mingi💚

The boys decided to go out tonight and blow off some steam, drinking and dancing through the night. Mingi wasn't really up for it at first, his perfect night would have consisted of reading mangas or watching animes while eating some snacks before going to bed early, but the others convinced him and he ended up not regretting listening to them.

He's been watching you for a while now, having caught his eye almost immediately after he sat down in one of the booths, telling the others he would start the night by staying back for a bit. Now he has the perfect excuse to analyse every single details about you and he finds you absolutely stunning, you might just be the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

He notices your smile first, so bright and full of grace, it makes his heart flutter uncontrollably and he loves it. Then his gaze trails over all of your features, your lightly made-up eyes sparkling under the dimmed lights and the way they hold so many emotions at the same time, your adorable button nose that moves whenever you talk and your lips, round and plumpy with a coat of rosy gloss for an even more seducing appearance.

He swears your hair probably smells like heaven and he wants to run his fingers through it, massaging your scalp to feel you relax under is touch. "Yo Mingi! Min- Guys we lost him, poor dude."

Your black lacy bustier, revealing just the right amount of skin to leave more to the imagination, your cropped blazer hugging your frame perfectly, the short leather skirt with a small slit on the left side, tight around your juicy thighs making him lose his mind and cute little boots to contradict the rest of your sexy look.

"What the hell dude, what even is this?" Wooyoung shrieks in disgust, elbowing San in the ribs while watching one of his best friend drooling over some bartender he's never met before. "I don't know, might wanna wake him out of his fantasies though."

"Yeah, that shit's on another level of creepiness." Yeosang states while bitting his nails in concern, his eyebrows scrunched and a judgy stare directed at Mingi. "You troublemakers leave Mingi alone, it looks like he just fell in love."

"Seonghwa. If Mingi wasn't handsome, everybody would find it creepy and don't try to deny it." Seonghwa looks at Yeosang, defeated. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Ok enough of this." Yunho grabs his friend by the shoulders and briskly shakes him out of his daze. Said boy looks puzzled for a minute, no clue as to why he's being disturbed. "What?"

"Are you serious? You have no idea why I had to intervene from whatever delusion was going on inside your head, like you haven't been checking that girl out for the last hour?" Mingi instantly flushes red, his thoughts having cut out most of his rationality and he had no idea it had been that long. "Just go talk to her."

"No. I can't." Mingi refuses without a second thought, feeling anxiety creep up inside of him and being powerless against it, his limbs paralyzed with fear. There's nothing he wants more than to run over to you and strike a conversation to hear your most likely angelic voice and be blessed by your beauty up close, but unfortunately for him, his body had another plan. "Hello there~ Did you guys need anything?"

"Oh yes! I think my friend here had something he wanted to ask you?" Said friend being Mingi, is ogling you and seems to have lost all of his brain cells. You're even more perfect than he imagined, your features are enhanced and the aura that surrounds you is enough to enlight his senses. The distance between you both is so short that he can smell your sweet, fruity perfume and it calms his nerves a little bit. "Umm yeah. Hi I'm Mingi."

"Y/N~" You say with a smile, waiting for him to continue with intrigue. With a sudden boost of confidence, Mingi speaks up in hopes to be rewarded for his effort. "You're absolutely gorgeous and seem nice so I'd like to take you out on a date sometime- if you want to of course! Would you mind if I gave you my number?"

❤️Jung Wooyoung❤️

"I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but I think this step is wrong." Wooyoung speaks up with uncertainty in his voice, it looks like he doesn't want to offend you, which is not the case. You've been teaching him a choreography for a new dance cover and have been at it all day, somehow you're tiredness must have taken control over your body, because you're usually fully focused. "Yeah you're right sorry."

"No that's ok, don't worry about it. Hey do you need a break- or we can stop for the day?" He's genuinely so sweet, you're supposed to be the one taking care of him, but he's taken that part very seriously. Making sure you stay hydrated every once in a while, getting you some snacks in order for you to have enough energy, checking the time to make sure you take breaks over the span of a few hours and whenever there's a slightly sudden movement in the routine, he checks up on you through the mirror, making sure you didn't hurt yourself. "No need, all good- Well, do you want us to stop though?"

You turn around, facing away from your reflexion to look at the boy, only to find his concerned stare already on you, searching for any sign of discomfort through your features. "We can keep going for a bit, but let's finish up soon."

"Alright then, let's start from here." You press play on your phone, the music coming through the speakers and you immediately get to dancing, Wooyoung following suit.

He did notice how exhausted you look and it doesn't help that he 'accidentally' heard the conversation you had with your best friend over the phone while on your lunch pause. You were whispering, but he couldn't help being nosy as usual and found out that you've had a bad recent break up, barely sleeping and eating, your nerves hard to control at times.

For the rest of the day, he felt a foreign sentiment in the pit of his stomach, there's also a familiar anger. One thing he's sure of, it's that he wants to pay a visit to the person who hurt you this badly and do much worse to them. "Wooyoung? Hey, are you ok?"

You wave your hand in front of his face, heart beating rapidly because of fear and worry, he's been standing still for over a minute, eyes fixed on the floor and filled with an emotion you can't quite make out. "Wooyoung!"

You try to step back, as he suddenly grabs your wrist. You seen to have woken him up, out of his weird trance, but you end up almost bringing the both of you on the hard ground as a result. "Shit! Are you alright?"

You can't focus on any word he's saying, the muscular arm that's wrapped around your waist and the feeling of his strong fingers squeezing your hip making you feel a bit dizzy. "Y/N?"

You look up at the soft call of your name, liking the way it came out of his mouth. For the following moment, you just look into each other's eyes, no words needing to be said, until Wooyoung breaks the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

🧡Choi Jongho🧡

"Cut! Jongho you need to look into her eyes, got it?" Jongho nods his head in agreement, saying a soft 'understood' to further show his understanding, but from next to him you can easily make out the faint blush spreading from the tip of his nose, all the way to his ears and the side of his neck.

For this scene, his character has to gaze into your eyes while confessing and keep a confident front, but Jongho keeps failing, not being able to keep eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. "Don't be nervous, just look at me and you'll be fine."

You try reassuring him, ignorant to the fact that you just made him even more of a nervous wreck and no matter how much he wants to be able to calm down from the sound of your voice, he can't. The truth is that he's started to develop the biggest crush on you and it's the first time he can't hide his feelings.

Everybody knows how good of an actor Jongho is, ense the reason why the staff and even you, are pretty surprise at his lack of self-control. "Why don't you guys take a ten minutes break? Maybe, go over a few lines together."

"Thank you!" You bow to the director and grab your co-actor's hand, unconsciously interlacing your fingers and the boy follows without fussing. With no doubts, he cherishes the moment, especially as you're the one who initiated the skin contact. Although he knows there isn't any another motive behind it, other than bringing him with you to a specific destination.

You find a quiet and slightly closed space, in hopes to make him feel more comfortable, but he actually appears to have the opposite reaction. Having for mission to keep a big distance between you two, Jongho almost rams into the wall behind him when you step forward to start a conversation.

His heart aches the moment he has a glimpse of the hurt expression on your face, you're quick to mask it, but it's already too late. You glance at him through your lashes when you hear a deep sigh coming out of him, followed by a nervous laugh with a hint of pain in it.

You watch curiously as he runs his hands over his face and he straight up looks at you without flinching away this time. "I like you. I did for a while now, but it's too much for me to keep hiding my feeling anymore."

"Wow you did it! I knew you could, but you know that's not exactly your line right? You're supposed-" He gasps like a fish out of water, trying to comprehend the situation. Only to painfully realise that you thought this was him acting and he suddenly feels like throwing himself off a building. "N- No wait that's not- I wasn't practicing.."

"Oh.." You immediately shut your rambling mouth, confused more than anything, but eventually, grasping the seriousness in his demeanor and hoping to make the poor guy's life a little easier, you speak up. And he's almost on the verge of imploding at the time your voice rings in his awaiting ears. "Well then, you probably wouldn't mind practicing the kiss scene?"

[lendeah]

Happy Memories

Also on AO3

Summary: Based on this line from the epilogue- One night he tells you that these six months of happy memories are the counterweight to two hundred years of misery.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags:  Fluff and Smut, 6 months post-finale, Lovemaking, Domestic Fluff, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Love Confessions, it's so soft really, Soft Astarion, they have just been through so much, Tooth-Rotting Fluff.

WARNING: +18, minors DNI

The past few months had been a trying time, both of you struggling to come to terms with the events that had transpired. The weight of it all hung heavy in the air, leaving you to navigate through nightmares and Astarion's bouts of dissociation. Yet, somehow, you were making progress. Together.

You had taken it upon yourself to find a cure for Astarion's condition, a challenging task made even more difficult by his returned aversion to sunlight. But it gave you both a purpose, something to look forward to - a brighter tomorrow. The greatest source of joy in your present life was the simple act of lying down next to him every night, enveloped in each other's arms with the comforting knowledge that tomorrow you would once again wake up without the constant fear of losing him.

Together, you had found solace in a serene cottage by Riverbend, settling into a comfortable routine. You delighted in gardening and cooking, while he took care of household chores and lovingly mended and sewed your clothes. On lazy afternoons, you would paint alongside him as he engrossed himself in endless books. It was pure bliss, and you were content with your perfectly imperfect life together.

As the two of you prepared for bed, Astarion wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. In the past, such an intimate gesture would have caught you off guard, but he has since learned to let his guard down and embrace moments of tenderness. Though he still struggles at times, he relishes in this display of affection.

"Everything alright, my love?" you asked, resting your head against his.

Astarion's arms tightened around you as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. "Alright would be an understatement," he murmured, his voice low and warm against your skin. "I am absolutely enchanted, my dear."

You turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'm glad to hear that, because I am enchanted too," you said softly.

Astarion leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a delicate kiss. You hummed against his mouth, savoring the familiar feeling of his soft lips moving against yours. He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against yours as he whispered, "I have something I want to show you."

Curiosity sparked within you, but you simply nodded and followed him as he led you outside. The moon was high in the sky, casting its soft glow over everything. Astarion took your hand and led you toward the nearby meadow. And that's when you see it: he has prepared the scenery around to look like the one from the first night you shared together, back at the Grove.

"What is this?" You say, with a huge grin decorating your face.

Astarion's crimson eyes shone with excitement as he turned to you. "This, my love, is a recreation of the night we first shared at the Grove," he said proudly.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you took in the scene before you. The soft grass beneath your feet, the gentle rustling of trees in the distance, and a small basket filled with wine and various snacks, right next to a small blanket.

"I thought we could relive that enchanted evening, but this time we'll make it truly unforgettable." His fingers caressed your cheek, gently wiping away a stray tear, as he added with a cheeky smile, "Because let's be honest, the first time was... underwhelming."

You smiled at him, grateful beyond words for his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, my love, this is incredible," you said, your voice thick with emotion.

Astarion's smile widened and he pulled you into a tight embrace. "Anything for you," he whispered into your ear.

You stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while, just enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Eventually, Astarion led you over to the basket and poured some wine for both of you. As the night went on, the two of you talked and laughed, reminiscing about your early days together and all the adventures you had been on since then. And with each passing moment, it felt as if the world had paused just for the two of you, as if all the events of the previous months were leading up to this one perfect moment.

As midnight approached, Astarion stood and held out his hand. "Shall we dance under the moonlight?" he asked with a playful glint in his eyes.

You raised a teasing eyebrow, "Has the spirit of Wyll possessed you?"

Astarion chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, my dear, you wound me! I assure you, this idea is entirely my own. Besides, who needs Wyll's spirit when I have enough charisma to ignite the heavens themselves?" He flourished a grand gesture, pretending to adjust an imaginary top hat atop his head.

You couldn't help but giggle at his theatrics. "How could I resist such an offer from the ever-enchanting Astarion?" you teased, accepting his outstretched hand.

He pulled you close, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back as he led you in a slow and graceful waltz beneath the soft glow of the moon. The world around you seemed to fade away as you slowly swayed in each other's arms.

"I don't remember this happening on our first night," you murmured against his ear, remembering how different that moment had been compared to this one.

A low, seductive chuckle escaped Astarion's lips as they brushed against your skin. "And pray tell, darling, what do you recall?"

"I remember you trying to seduce me and then almost draining me dry," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Astarion let out a dramatic gasp. "Such slander! I would never do such a thing!" He pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense.

You both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet night. It was a stark contrast to the fake seducing words and lack of feelings of that first night. Now, he was completely at ease, his true self shining through without any pretense or hunger clouding his mind.

"But it was still special," Astarion whispered, stopping the dance to pull you closer to him. "It's what brought us to be here now, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

You smiled up at him, your heart fluttering at his words, as you leaned in to kiss him. It was a gentle and sweet kiss at first but soon turned more passionate as Astarion deepened it. His hands grabbed your thighs and picked you up to press you up against a nearby tree, lips trailing down your neck.

"This is bringing back memories," You say breathlessly.

You could feel him smirk against your skin "Do you really think so? Perhaps I should refresh them even more."

His declaration sent a wave of warmth through your body and you leaned in to kiss him again, eager to lose yourself in the moment. His hands were now unbuttoning your shirt and you gasped as they reached your bare skin. You looked at his hooded eyes, and with a playful smile, offered your neck to him.

However, Astarion pulled away slightly and looked into your eyes, with something like doubt swimming in them. "I want this to be real," he said earnestly. "Not like last time."

You nodded in understanding and smiled softly at him. "It already is," you reassured him, cupping his cheek with your hand.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to kiss you again, but this time it was slow and tender – an exchange of affection rather than something laced with hunger or deception. Astarion picked you up again and gently set you down on the soft blanket that he had laid out earlier. He leaned in to kiss you once more, his body hovering over yours.

As you entwined your fingers in his soft, white locks, you pulled him towards you, deepening the kiss. His hands explored every curve and dip of your body, sending pleasurable shivers down your spine with each touch.

As his lips trailed from yours, they left a tingling sensation in their wake. Your hands eagerly reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Astarion's hungry gaze followed every movement as you unbuttoned your jeans and let them fall to the ground. With a grin, he helped you out of your remaining clothes before stepping back to fully appreciate your naked form glistening under the moonlight. His eyes traced every curve and dip of your body before meeting your gaze once again, a hunger evident in his expression.

"You are breathtaking," he murmured, and then pulled you into another passionate kiss. Your fingers traced the lines of his bare chest, feeling the softness of his skin. You tugged at his shirt, silently urging him to remove it, and he obliged with a sly smile. His pants soon followed, revealing the chiseled contours of his body. Your hands traced over every ridge and dip of his body, feeling the coolness of his skin against your fingertips.

"I want you to bite me," you whispered urgently.

Astarion leaned down to press his lips against the nape of your neck, making you gasp and arch into him as he traced his fangs along your pulse point. Your skin tingled with excitement as his hands eagerly explored your body before gripping your hips, sending shivers of desire through you.

"Tell me if it becomes too much," he whispered against your skin before sinking his teeth into your neck gently.

You gasped at the sensation – a mix of pleasure and pain that sent sparks flying through your body. Astarion's grip on your hips tightened as he drank from you, his other hand reaching up to cup one of your breasts. You moaned as he continued to drink from you, feeling the pleasure building up inside of you.

After a few minutes, Astarion pulled away and licked the wound on your neck before kissing it gently. His red eyes met yours and they were glowing with a mix of emotions – desire, love, and something else that you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"I'll never grow weary of that," he murmurs, before leaning in for another kiss. Astarion's lips trailed down your neck and onto your chest, leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way towards your breasts, taking a nipple between his lips. Every touch of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure through your body and you arched your back in response.

"Astarion..." you panted.

The sound of his name on your lips only spurred him on, and he began to suckle harder, moving to tease the other nipple with his fingers. His hand moved from your breast to between your legs, and you gasped as his fingers found your wetness. He slipped his fingers between your soaking folds, skillfully rubbing and circling your clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers sent waves of pleasure through you, making you whimper and writhe beneath him.

"Please," you whimpered, unable to hold back any longer.

Astarion smirked against your skin before moving down your body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses until he reached the apex of your thighs. He looked up at you with hunger in his eyes before diving in with his tongue, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

His tongue flicked against your clit, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him on as he continued to please you.

"Astarion...oh gods..." you cried out, your voice thick with need. His fingers thrusted into you relentlessly, syncing perfectly with the skilled movements of his tongue on your swollen clit. Your body arched and trembled with each wave of pleasure, every muscle tensed in anticipation.

"Inside...now..." you begged, unable to find the words to express the ache for him to fill you completely.

Astarion looked up at you from between your legs, his eyes filled with lust and desire, "Whatever you wish, dearest."

With a swift movement, he withdrew his fingers from your slick entrance and aligned himself at your dripping core. He pushed in slowly, savoring the tightness and heat engulfing him. A moan escaped your lips as you were filled to the hilt, waves of pleasure washing over you. Your bodies melted together, panting and trembling with pleasure. He then leaned in close, and gently rested his forehead against yours, breaths mingling as you held each other.

"I never envisioned discovering someone like you," Astarion said softly, "You have made these six months of happy memories counterweight two hundred years of misery."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes at his words. The weight of his words, the realization that you have brought true joy to someone who has known nothing but misery, crushes you in the most beautiful way.

"I...I love you," you managed to choke out, your heart overflowing with emotion as you reached up to touch his face, tracing the lines of his cheekbone with trembling fingers. "More than anything."

Astarion's eyes softened at your words, a small smile tugging at his lips. He leaned down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his emotions into it. You both stayed like that for a few moments, just lost in each other.

"I love you more than my own existence," he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. "You are my everything."

Without hesitation, he leaned down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss, and you savored the feeling of his lips against yours. Eventually, he starts slowly moving inside of you, each thrust calculated and precise as he intertwines his fingers with yours. You moaned and wrapped your legs around his waist, still lazily kissing him. Astarion continued to move inside of you with slow, deliberate strokes, making love to you in the most intimate way. Every movement is filled with intense desire and tenderness, eliciting uncontrollable moans of pleasure from your lips.

"You feel so good," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with adoration.

Your legs wrapped around his toned waist, your fingers tightly gripping his as he moved inside you. Each thrust was met with a moan from your lips, the heat and friction between your bodies igniting a passionate fire within you. He held you close, his lips eagerly finding yours in between each deepening thrust. The intensity and intimacy of the moment had you lost in a sea of pleasure, feeling every inch of him as he poured his love into every movement. Your body trembled as you neared your climax, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation any longer. Sensing this, he shifted his hand between your bodies, his fingers finding their way to your clit once again.

"Oh gods," you cried out as the pleasure intensified. Your body trembled and your breath quickened as Astarion's fingers moved expertly over your skin. You dug your nails into his back, desperately trying to hold on as he brought you closer to the edge.

"I'm close," Astarion grunted, his own body trembling with need.

"I am too," you whimpered.

Astarion's movements became faster and more urgent, his own moans mixing with yours in the stillness of the night.

"Look at me when you come," he demanded, and you obeyed.

Your eyes locked with Astarion's, the intensity of his gaze sending chills down your spine. As you reached the peak of pleasure, your body trembled and your walls pulsed around him. You couldn't hold back any longer and cried out his name, drowning in waves of pure ecstasy, and Astarion followed suit with a guttural moan. As you both lay there, breathless and entwined, every cell in your body buzzed with contentment and fulfillment.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice raw with emotion.

"I love you too," Astarion replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off of you and pulling you close to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content and complete in his arms.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, until eventually, Astarion spoke up.

"Even if we don't find the cure, being here with you is enough," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. He paused for a moment, his eyes on yours, searching for the right words. "This is all I ever wanted," he says softly, placing his hand on your cheek.

You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips as you traced your fingers along his chest.

"I feel the same way," you replied, resting your head back on his chest. "But we can't give up hope just yet."

Astarion nodded, his arms tightening around you. "We won't" Astarion replies. He pulls you in close to him, squeezing you tightly. "We'll find the cure. I know we will." A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "And I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you."

[astrolynnworld]

Can I have a Chris fluff where he lifts the readers bump?

baby bump

pairings: chris x reader

summary: your back has been killing your active pregnancy. chris does whatever he can to relive that ache

warnings: fluff, pregnancy, sad thoughts, reassurance, comfort, love

a/n: in this fic, you and chris are already married

word count: 662

it’s been almost 8 months since i found out that chris & i were having a baby girl.

i wanted to do the whole gender reveal theatrics but chris and i both agreed that we did not want to wait.

when we revealed the pregnancy to our family and friends, it was like endless masses of support.

everyone congratulated us, gave us money, sent gifts, and offered endless hours of help.

there are still gifts coming into this day.

although the pregnancy is starting to overwhelm me.

The cravings, the nausea, the headaches, and the pain that finds itself everywhere, especially my back.

it’s so hard for me to do the tasks that I once enjoyed.

I feel bad for chris because a once active wife had probably just become a burden to him.

I hated this thought, but I was left with no other choice when I would see Chris pick up everything that I used to do.

he was switched to start working at home so he could take care of me, our baby, and our home.

tonight I thought I would surprise him by making dinner to reward him for all his generosity and support with our new lifestyle that I was trying to adjusted too.

he had went to the store to go pick up a few items for the house that we have been needing, so i took this moment as an opportunity.

half an hour into cooking, my back starts to ache really badly. i decide to sit because i realize that i had been standing for a while

I take a five minute break, but this does not stop the ache.

I get back up to finish dinner since i had only had a few more steps left to complete in the recipe.

but, as im finishing up i hear keys start to unlock the door along with bags tussling as footsteps enter the house.

“babe?” chris calls out

“im in the kitchen” i respond

he follows the sound of my voice

“babe what are you doing? you’re supposed to be resting.” his voice says laced with concern

“i just wanted to surprise you with someone special. you’ve been doing a lot for me and i want to show you my gratitude” i say back in a soft tone

“baby.. you’re pregnant with our kid right now. do you really think you’re the one that needs to be showing gratitude to me?” he asks with a soft smirk

i smile at his rhetorical question

“i will never be able to show you enough gratitude for how much you mean to me and how lucky i am that you stick beside me everyday” he says while wrapping his hands around my back to give me a tight hug

i coo at the added pressure

“im sorry, did that hurt?” he asks with concern

“no, you’re fine. my back has just been aching all day.” i complain

“can i try something?” he asks

i nod my head yes with a bit of confusion.

he gently puts his hands under my belly and lifts its slowly.

the released pressure on my back and pelvis felt like heaven.

i drop my head on his shoulder as a sign of relief.

“i did not know about this relief tactic” i state with shock laced in my tone

“yeah. i did my research about the do’s and don’t’s with a pregnancy wife!” chris replies

i laugh at his humor

“i love you so much christopher.” i say as i lift my head up and look into his eyes

“i love you so much much y/n” he responds back.

he bends his head down to give me a kiss on the lips.

“now lets turn off this stove and get you into bed. you did enough for tonight.” he says while switching off the stove letting the, now cooked, food shimmer down.

he grabs my hand and guides me back to our bedroom.

———————————————————————

a/n: this was so cute to write, i loved it! hope you guys love as well

[lucidfallacy]

Shame (Stalker Ghost x Reader 18+)

You have always been the type to let curiosity get the best of you. A certified button pusher as your comrades would say. You thrive in gossip and high tensions. But little do they really know about your dire urge to consume their dark secrets. That urge quickly ate away at you, evolving until nothing was off-limits. You want access to their social media accounts, camera rolls, and most of all: their search history. Over time, you acquired the means to do so with simple spyware. And the best part is that there's absolutely no paper trail.

Your hobby originally started with a seemingly harmless prank. Still, they granted you no mercy. Months ago, your fellow soldiers took it upon themselves to drunkenly raid your room one night, stringing up your lacy underwear and bras flag-style along the boot camp's pole. The colorful fabrics waved around in the wind as you rubbed your eyes in disbelief.

Lieutenant Ghost wouldn't even give you the chance to take them down before training. So, the already cold morning run that followed was tainted by occasional snickers and vulgar comments. Your least favorite emotion is embarrassment, and they had no problem wringing it out of you. Embarrassment leaves a mental scar you'll lie awake cringing about into the wee hours of the night. It's a memory that'll haunt you until you die, and surely won't live down as long as you're enlisted.

The men on base love fronting with these indomitable personas. But oh, the humiliating shit you've seen. You remember that very first adrenaline high you got after snooping through a colleague's emails. The average person could never guess that he's secretly a pay pig. Thousands of dollars had been routed to random camgirls, demanding him to address them as mistresses. And he gladly obliged. You contemplated forwarding the exchanges to the man's girlfriend back home, but you decided to save it for a special occasion. 'Maybe, right before Christmas', you thought. Instead, you uttered just one random girl's username in his ear on an early morning before training, making his eyes go wide and lips pale. And so, your barracks chores have been spotlessly completed for you ever since.

Usually, the victims you choose from consist of the men on your task force, but sometimes other people are dumb enough to air themselves out anyway. However, there's one man you haven't quite figured out yet and he has done a proper job of pissing you off today. His nitpicking seems endless like making you run extra laps or having to stay late and help him complete paperwork. Needless bullshit basically. When you first joined the force, you hated to admit it but you had an unwelcome attraction to him. Your ranks would never allow that sort of relationship anyway, and you consider him to be more of a cocky prick now. Even if you still find yourself giving into your pitiful desires when you turn in almost every night. So what? Never will you forget how amused he looked as your very specific black lingerie set saluted him on the flagpole. For all you know, the whole charade could've been his idea. That's why you've just been waiting for Ghost to fuck up for a while now.

After finishing an early dinner at the mess hall, intuition sparked your senses as you see the man himself rushing into the Corporal's office and slamming the doors behind him. Perfect timing. You decide to take a scenic route back to our room, sauntering over to Ghost's neck of the woods. The hall is long, coated in a hospital-like dim blue flickering light. The far-off conversations of the other diners fizzle out until there's only a deafening silence accompanying you. Reaching the end of the hall you glance around, a light sweat glistening on your temple. You wrap your hand in your shirt, slightly pulling on his door handle. Creak. Bingo. Your fingers slip in between the Lieutenant's ajar dorm door, a very rare occurrence for him to leave something unlocked. Whatever the circumstance, it's your lucky day.

So you slink in, sliding your back against the door to close it gently. You swallow hard, having trouble focusing because of the admittedly mouthwatering musk of his room. Like cedar and rain. And just as you thought, 3 monitors glow from across the room on his cluttered desk. Each one is unlocked and just sitting on the desktop's homepage. Dumbass. A sea of yellow file boxes line the screens making you itch in anticipation. The light illuminates a path, urging you to explore his uncharted territory. Sitting in his gaming chair of a throne, you contemplate what to do first. 'I wonder what kind of vanilla shit this guy watches... Or maybe not,' you unabashedly thought, smirking as your hand finds the mouse.

You scan around each file, joking to yourself about finding some top-secret folder for the nuclear launch codes. But your wrist seems to freeze over a file, smack dab in the middle of the first monitor. (First initial/Last Initial Cameras) is spelled out in small bolded letters. Your brows furrow in confusion. 'Maybe that's short for...' *double click* Your thoughts escape you as all three screens cut to black. You didn't know quite what to expect out of this man, but shit... The nausea sets in as you realize precisely why curious cats always end up dead. 6 boxes stretch across each of the screens. The first is your room, a direct shot of your perfectly tucked-in sheets and not-so-secret plushie laid across your pillows. A perfect view of your pajamas from this morning is still pooled on the floor.

The next box is a shot of your closet door, hung wide open and... Oh my God. A tall dark figure wades at the opening, hand outstretched and filtering through your abundance of non-military clothes. Their hand settles on the backend of the rack, thumbing over the fabric of your skimpy silk nightdresses. Every passing moment sends you into a deeper spiral of second guesses and excuses. 'Everyone must have cameras in their room. Yeah. Random bed checks must be happening now and...' your thoughts trail off, other shaking hand covering your mouth as the figure pulls out a buzzing phone from their back pocket. As they turn to face you, the cell's white light exposes the intruder's identity.

Ghost's unmistakable dark eyes meet yours through the screen, the half skull masking his face already being a dead enough giveaway. He's always been hard to read, but in this moment, he dawns the expression of a panther who has just locked onto its prey. 'It's like he knows-' you think to yourself as the Lieutenant's finger smashes against his phone screen. The cameras cut out, leaving an eerie TV static across the monitors. Panicked is too calm of a descriptor to explain what you are feeling right now. You're fucked. But you have to try and hide at least. You look around frantically for an answer. 'Okay, this hall is a dead end, the room has no windows... what about under the bed?' Boots begin to echo from down the hall. Each step is like the ticking countdown of a clock, building onto your already heightened anxiety.

Well, it's a long shot, but it's all you can think of. You rush behind the door, attempting to calm your labored breathing while sucking in your body to fit flush against the wall. 'I'm dead, I'm fucking dead. My last meal was potato soup and I didn't even get to call my mom like I said-' The heavy boots come to a halt, your eyes clench so tightly that colors begin to dance around behind your lids. In a sudden motion, the handle twists. With a light kick, Ghost opens the door. It swings just short of your turned head, body still desperately trying to fit. You could hear a pin drop in the next continent over from how devastatingly quiet it is. Your core is on fire from keeping your body stiff and barely having any air support. But still, Ghost remains on the other side, scanning the room as he once again wrestles his phone from his pocket. You hear the clicking of his passcode, the screen light hugging the around doorframe as if it's trying to give you away. Then it goes blue... just like the screens were before. You hear something like a recording. It mimics the way you clamored out of the rolling chair, how it screeched to slide across the linoleum flooring.

The phone turns off with a click, just before he tosses it, landing with a loud thud on his desk. You avert your eyes for just a moment flinching at the noise, so startled you didn't notice the way his gloved fingers slowly wrapped around the door just above your unknowing head. Ghost slams the door shut, the impact sounding like a gunshot was fired right by your head. You yelp, ducking to dodge his grasp and run away, but you aren't quite quick enough. No matter where you run, or how hard you fight back, his grip on your wrists as you're pinned against the concrete wall is a reminder that he will always be one step ahead. His shadow envelops you as your jaw cranes upward to meet his intense gaze. And there is no denying how different the atmosphere is between you two. Your jugular beats faster and his pupils dilate as they study yours fervently. You've been caught, finally ensnared by the consequences of your dumb little hobby.

"Oh? Not gonna run that loose fuckin' mouth, huh?" he teases, his voice a delicious gravelly whisper.

"N- No sir, Lieutenant sir!" you stammer out, high-pitched and attempting to stand at attention. But he has complete control of your every movement, every sinful thought. Your brows knit together as you try and regain your sense of self, putting together the serrated pieces connecting who this man is and what he's capable of. But your rationality is quickly depleting as you squirm in his embrace.

"I'll-" you begin.

Ghost hooks a thumb into your cheek like a fish, exploring your cavity and cutting your opposing thoughts short.

"You'll what? Kill me, love? Go on, fight me then," Ghost taunts. Without hesitation, you bite the meat of his palm, making him hiss out. But he only presses into you further, his hard cock stretching across the length of your hip and begging to be released. "Just a love bite, yeah? Gonna give up and let me fuck you? Just like that?"

"You're fucking insane," you spit, trying your damnedest to seem menacing.

"And who's fault is that?" he cuts, forcing your hands higher in a single crushing fist. "Cut the shit- You think yer so cute, trampsin' 'round 'ere in those tight ass fatigues. Bitchin' at me every chance you get." He leans closer into the crook of your neck, taking in the scent. "Comin' undone with yer fingers every single god damned night," he says frustratingly through gritted teeth.

You suck in a sharp breath.

"I wasn't- how was I-" you whine, skin flushed a peony pink.

"You've been so good to me (Y/N)," he praises. His other arm locks around your waist, thigh pushing up under your already throbbing pussy. You groan from the contact. "Remind me, who's name has been rolling off that pretty little tongue of yours?" he questions.

"I'm sorry-" you apologize, almost tearful.

"Say it love- just like you did when I was fistin' my cock to ya last night," he urges, grinding up against your clothed clit and eliciting a moan.

"Ghost!" you whimper hoarsely. You're in a feverish dream state, unsure of when or how your relationship took such a deviant turn. But hell, somehow within all of the secrets you've uncovered in the past couple of months the biggest one was under your nose all along. His obsession. He catches you off guard, pinching your nipple through the material that separates you.

"No, no" he laughs. "Not that one, you little fuckin' creep."

'Oh, I'm the creep?,' your thought simmers. It may be true that you did some digging to find his real name. Why? You couldn't explain it. But it felt so good in your mouth, that it's made itself at home in your nightly vocabulary. And now your pussy clenches as he twists harder. 'Maybe we are both fuckin' creeps.'

"Simon..." you quiver with shame and arousal.

Ghost hoists you over his shoulder without warning, letting you kick your legs about in defense as he squeezes you close. He throws you into his unmade sheets, not giving you a single moment to catch your bearings. In a flash, his gloved hands are wrapped around your ankles flipping you every which way. He rips and tears at the fabrics that clothe you. Your black tank top, and the khaki camouflaged pants, both laying in tatters on the floor. Now you lay only two garments away from naked, nipples already perked up under your bra from the chilled temperature of his dark room. And what do you know, it's that pretty little black set he's been dying to catch you in. The faint grey of the monitors cast a sultry backlight on his imposing stature.

"Holy shit love'," he groans as he guides your ankles to his shoulders, nuzzling against them. Ghost palms over the soaked center of your panties, admiring how hopeless you've become. "I'll buy ya' lots more, promise," he claims, wanting to support the pretty little secrets hiding under your uniforms.

Your body stiffens when his fingers dip into your panty line. He toys with you, rubbing back and forth with his knuckles underneath your navel. Your abs tremble, back arching into his gentle but suggestive touch.

"Pick a number," he finally says, filling in the silence.

But you think you know this game. You think you know what he's playing at. But you don't.

"One...I- just one," you say swallowing nervously. But your nerves aren't settled as a grumbling laugh builds in his chest.

"How sweet- givin' me a whole hour to do whatever I want," he tells you, grabbing the fat of your hips and flipping you onto your stomach.

You swear you can hear the inflection in his voice as he bears a shit-eating grin under that fucking mask. But your thoughts about his face are whisked away when he yanks your ass up into a high arch. He slides your laced panties to the side and parts your folds, sliding your slick around to flick over your sensitive bud. And the friction of his gloves is driving you insane. Insane enough that you're a slack-jawed pathetic moaning mess, wobbly legs pressing back against his hold. And then just as you become a bit comfortable, Ghost plants a stinging slap across your pussy, making you rigid.

"I've seen how you like it doll," he says laying another firm slap across your ass and dripping cunt. "Like a fuckin' whore." Hot tears well up in your eyes as your face is pressed into the mattress, muffling your cries. "Don' cry, you still have 3 more, 'kay?" he reassures. His hand travels from the side of your ass cheek and begins to fumble with his belt. He exhales a strained breath as he frees himself, his silky hot cock slapping against the back of your thigh. Ghost's precum is already smeared around his head, painting across your bare skin.

His next hit is personal, surely strong enough to leave a slight bruise as his fingers dig into your cheek to hold you in place. But this kind of twisted intimacy is what makes you feel alive.

"That's fer goin' through my shit," he barks, wasting no time delivering an equally intense strike across your opposite cheek. "That's for torturin' me for months, slut," Ghost admits.

As you brace yourself, you arch further, legs spread to accept it. But instead, Ghost lines up his head with your entrance. Violently splitting you open with a grunt, so forcefully that your body goes lax into the mattress from his weight. He gathers a fistful of your hair as if they are reigns. His lips graze the cartilage of your ear as he wrenches back, making you shudder.

"And that's for makin' me fuckin' crazy."

He's relentless. Ghost holds you up with one veiny forearm underneath your stomach, reaching around to find your clit and rub you in rhythm with his brutal fucking. Ghost's cock stretches and fills, it dominates and complicates. You'll forever remember how it curves, how the veins pulse inside you. His hips collide into the flesh of your ass like another form of a brutal spanking. It's the only sound you can hear other than the rush of blood ringing in your ears.

Ghost pinches your bud, rolling it around before rubbing small circles with two gloved fingers. Your voice has trouble escaping you as you lay contorted at his will on the verge of orgasm. He sounds heavenly deranged, blessing you with filthy curses and compliments on how tight you squeeze around him. He begins panting even louder as he ruts into you, like a desperate dying man.

"I should take you out- fuck you on the dining table," he grunts out between thrusts. "Yeah. You'd like that, huh? Making them watch you cum on my cock."

All you can do is scream into his fingers as his other hand clamps around your nose and mouth, stealing your oxygen. The truth is, now that he has you, he'll ruin you. He's planning on fucking you day in and day out, making it almost impossible to sit or walk. Hell, you won't even look at another man the same way after the way he's altered your chemistry.

You get an unfamiliar sensation in your core, but it's no use trying to stop it. Ghost applies just enough kneading pressure, like he's carefully studied the way your body responds when you touched yourself all those times before. Your mind goes numb as you drench each other, knees buckling in a full-body burnout. As you scream into the mattress, your cunt chaotically spasms. You grip around him tighter, making each of his ragged thrusts more difficult.

Ghost suddenly pulls out, leaving you empty and needy for his warmth. He just snickers as you whine, your pussy desperately trying to guide its way back onto him. You need him to flood your cervix, to deeply take his cock as it convulses. You want to revel in the mess as the cum drips out of you, uncaring of the oncoming consequences. He strategically flips over your limp sweat sweat-covered body, flicking his index finger across your oversensitive bundle of nerves. Your eyes go wide as you cry out, excited from the shock and fear of what he plans to do next. Ghost's chest heaves up and down, a sinister look glittering in his void-like pupils. He turns his wrist, tongue clicking as he registers the time on his watch.

"Would you look at that... Still got thirty more minutes~"

[holidayinhell]

The Laundry Room

Characters: creepy/intimate Whumper, captive Whumpee CWs: captivity, noncon (mostly implied but eh), sexual/noncon nudity, food denial, discussion of amputation, classic whump shiz

In the early days of his captivity, Whumpee was allowed to sleep on the couch in the basement. Now he spent his days chained up on the floor of the wash room, tethered to the column in the center of the laundry room with a radius of no more than twenty feet to roam about. The cold of the cellar was inescapable. Sometimes, late at night, he would secretly turn on the dryer on its lowest setting and press his face to its warmth. It was one of the only good things left in his life anymore. Now all he had to look forward to was the sweet release of sleep and laundry day once a week.

“Whuuuum-peeeee!” Called a singsong voice from the top of the steps.

Whumpee swallowed. No matter how many times this happened, he was never prepared for it.

The wooden steps creaked in protest under Whumper’s heavy boots. The tall man rounded the corner of the basement into the subterranean laundry room, where he found his favorite captive chained to the central support beam, exactly where he’d left him.

“Got a little something to keep you busy.” Whumper grinned, dumping the contents of the laundry basket he was holding onto the floor. “Turn around.”

Before he finished giving the command, Whumpee had already presented his captor with the zip ties securing his wrists behind his back. Normally Whumper would remove the binds the moment he got home, but he'd had already been back for hours. Maybe he was busy with something else. Or maybe he did it on purpose.

Whumper retrieved his switchblade from his pocked and flipped it open.

“So I saw something on the news again today.” Whumper informed his captive, snapping the plastic ties with his knife.

“Apparently someone found an old hat in the woods. They think that it’s one of yours. It started another search for you, if you can goddamn believe it, and it’s even bigger than before. There’s helicopters and scent tracing dogs and all.”

Whumper unbuckled his belt, sliding the leather strap through the loops of his pants. “That’s some crazy persistence, all for one person. Like, move on with your lives, people. What’s it been, a whole year now?”

“Ten months.” Whumpee replied weakly, rubbing the red marks on his wrists.

“Shietttt, has it really been that long? I was just kidding.” Whumper said playfully, his voice laced with something sinister. “Well, you know what they say: time flies when you’re having fun.”

Fun. Is that what this was?

“I’m just glad they haven’t given up hope yet.”

Whumpee knew he’d misspoke the second the words left his mouth.

“Wrong, Whumpee.” The air went heavy. Whumper shot a disdainful glance at Whumpee, his eyes narrowing with contempt. “People need to stop searching. They need to give up already.”

Whumper was still clutching his leather belt in his hands. For the sake of his physical wellbeing, Whumpee decided to ignore the comment completely.

“Uh, so separate these by color, then?” Whumpee asked as he pawed through the dirty laundry on the floor, desperate to change the subject.

Whumper’s mind was still on the search. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, like usual. Remember to run the sheets—“

“On delicate mode?” Whumpee finished his thought. “Mhmm. Got it.”

Whumpee busied himself by sorting through the dirty laundry pile while Whumper loomed by the room’s entrance. Whumpee watched him cautiously from the corner of his eye. The sociopath was silently brooding, his eyes fixed on Whumpee’s form.

He wished Whumper would fuck off and go back upstairs.

Doing laundry once a week was one of the only tasks he was allowed to do, and as depressing as it was, he actually looked forward to it. It was one of the only things he had to keep himself entertained with. 

In the early days of his captivity, Whumper had allowed him to watch the small tv in the basement living room and provided him with an endless supply of magazines and books. And to think, Whumpee thought he was a prisoner back then. Like most everything in Whumpee’s life, his privileges had been taken away one by one. 

Whumper removed the tv within the first month. He never gave Whumpee a reason why. Next were the books. Then the couch. And soon enough, Whumpee found himself chained to a pole with his wrists zip-tied behind him for ten hours at a time, praying that his captor would at least remember to feed him that day.

Whumpee started a pile of lights, darks, and colors, sorting each garment into its designated pile. Whumper remained in the doorway and watching his captive intently, his presence entirely unwelcome.

“So, um. Did you make something good for dinner?” Whumpee piped up, breaking the tension of the silence.

Ever since he’d been captured all his brain would fixate on was food, and the only thing he could think about currently was the sumptuous meaty smell that had been tantalizing his tastebuds for the past hour.

“Mmm.” Whumper nodded, crossing his arms and stepping into the room. “Roast chicken and mashed potatoes. Garlic bread too, just from the store.”

Whumpee’s eyes widened hungrily.

“No leftovers I’m afraid.” He added.

“Oh.” 

Whumpee crumbled in on himself. That meant no dinner tonight.

Whumpee opened the cabinet above the sink to retrieve a box of detergent. He popped off the lid and scooped the plastic measuring cup into the powder, leveling the mountain of excess with a swipe of his finger.

“You should wash your clothes as well, Whumpee.” The tall man remarked from across the room.

“Uh, yeah. I will.” Whumpee agreed, continuing to avoid eye contact. He placed the pre-measured cup of detergent on the counter, turning to gather up the sorted pile of white clothes from the floor. He chucked them into the washing machine, sprinkled the soap crystals on top, and closed the lid.

He really wished Whumper would go away now, but the tall man stood firmly in place. Whumpee knew where this was going.

“I said you should wash them, Whumpee. That means to take them off.” 

Whumpee stiffened. God fucking damn it. 

Not right now. Not that he wanted to go through this shit ever, but Whumper seemed to be in an especially odd mood this evening.

Whumpee did as he was commanded. It wasn’t worth the fight. He lifted his pale blue button-up over his head, not bothering to unclasp the buttons, and tossed it into the pile of colors. He removed his socks and pants and did the same. Finally he stood in nothing but his white boxer-briefs, awkwardly shimmying them down his thighs until they slid down his legs and hung at his ankles. Blushing, he stepped out of them and walked over to the washing machine, chucking the underwear into the load of whites as it filled with water. 

A chill rocked his body when Whumper approached from behind.

The larger man pushed his hips into Whumpee’s back, pinning him squarely against the machine as it hummed to life. “Mmm. I should make you walk around naked all the time. Don’t you think?”

“It, uh… it gets really cold down here.”

“Psht.” Whumper draped his arms around Whumpee’s neck. “So I’ll buy you an electric blanket. That’d be nice, right?”

“Sure. But, please, I really do need my clothes.”

Whumper’s arms traveled down the sides of Whumpee’s torso and trailed inwards to find his ass. One hand delivered a crisp smack, which immediately left behind a glowing red mark. He smiled, scooping a buttcheek into each palm, jiggling what little flesh was there.

“Your ass is so tiny.” Whumpee quipped.

Yeah, that’s what happens when you average 400 calories a day for nearly a year.

“Yeah. I’m pretty skinny now.”

“You look good like this.” Whumper purred into his ear as he delicately stroked the length of Whumpee’s back. “But I do miss the ass.”

Time to go away now, Whumpee thought. Please, please just go the fuck away.

Whumper smacked Whumpee’s ass again, scooping it up and grinding the denim fabric on his crotch against the thin man’s perfect, bare skin while caressing his neck with his hot, wet tongue. He took Whumpee’s earlobe into his mouth and suckled it lightly, biting down on the soft flesh with only a tiny amount of pressure.

“Mm, you have goosebumps.” Whumper murmured with a self-satisfied grin. “Did that turn you on?”

Two of Whumper’s fingers traced the curvature of his ass and found Whumpee’s entrance. The digits dabbed at the hole gently, teasing and prodding the skin but never pushing inside. The firm touch sent an involuntary shiver up Whumpee’s spine. Whumper smirked at his reaction and nibbled at the side of Whumpee’s neck.

He was so cold, the warmth on his neck felt good. But nothing else did.

“I keep thinking,” Whumper cooed, Whumpee melting into him for heat. “Maybe it’s finally time to give your friends closure. Feels cruel to keep dragging things out like this. They need to stop looking for you.”

For the first time in months, Whumpee felt a vague twinge of hope. 

“What? You mean that you’ll--?”

“What I mean is, they’ll be looking for a body.”

Oh. Oh no.

“W-what?” Whumpee stammered. He twisted out from under Whumper, his chain rattling against the floor as he side-stepped his captor. “What does that mean?”

“I feel a little guilty about it. The search for you has been going on for ages, and now they’re bringing out helicopters and shit? That’s a waste of taxpayer money. The cops could be out there doing real good.”

“No. What did you mean by ‘body’?”

“I was thinking we could chop off one of your legs or something. Maybe just a foot.” 

“No!” Whumpee shrieked. “You can’t!” He delivered a feeble push against Whumper’s chest, pivoting out from underneath him. His heart was pounding in his ears so loud, he pressed his hands to cover them and doubled over in fear.

The reaction took Whumper by surprise. “Bad joke.” he offered, placing a calming hand on the other’s shoulders. 

It wasn’t a joke.

The tall man rubbed his captive’s back until Whumpee’s breath finally evened out. It felt like a betrayal, the way his body responded so well to Whumper’s comforting touch. He jerked away from the sociopath’s reach.

Whumpee blinked incredulously at the man, his cheeks burning with anger. “Don’t.” he spat.

“What?”

“Don’t you fucking dare--”

“Excuse me? Don’t I fucking dare do what?”

“Don’t fucking joke about mutilating me!” Whumpee shouted.

“Hey.” Whumper cautioned. “You’re being too goddamn loud right now.”

Whumpee was frenzied, his chain skittered around as he paced around in a tight circle, pulling at chunks of his hair.

“How long are you going to keep me here?!” Whumpee demanded. “How much fucking longer!?”

“As long as I goddamn like.”

“Just let me go. Just please…” Whumpee pled tearfully, his emotions see-sawing violently between anger and complete despair. “You got what you wanted from me. Why won’t you let me leave…?”

Whumper shrugged. “It never was a part of the plan.”

“Fuck you!” The captive yelled. “I fucking hate you!”

“Whumpee.” Whumper warned with a stern finger, “it’s time to shut the fuck up.”

“I HATE Y—!”

Whumper grabbed a length of chain from the floor and yanked it towards him, forcing Whumpee to the ground by the shackle around his ankle.

Whumper continued pulling the chain into himself, dragging Whumpee’s body across the cold cement floor with every tug. It all happened too quickly for Whumpee to process.

“I should bash your face into the concrete again.” He growled, standing over his collapsed body. Whumpee could taste blood in his mouth. “But I’ll give you one last chance. I guess I didn’t say it explicitly enough last time, so hopefully this time it fucking sinks in: you are here to stay. There will be no more talk of kidnapping, or rescue, or freedom, or fucking escaping. No more of that. You’re here. You’re mine. This house--no--this room, is your whole fucking world, and I am your god. Get used to it.”

Whumpee lifted his head slightly and shot a fiery glance in Whumper’s direction.

“You better wipe that look off your pathetic face while you’ve still got one.” Whumper flicked his switchblade open.

He lifted one of his boots and rested its rubber sole on Whumpee’s back, pressing him into the floor. Brandishing the knife overhead, he commanded Whumpee: “Show me why I choose to keep you around. Remind me that you haven’t fucking forgotten your sole purpose in life, or I’ll saw your leg off right fucking now.”

Face-down on the floor, Whumpee let out a sigh so small only he could hear it.

He knew what he had to do. He didn’t have any other options. Silent tears rushed down his cheeks and fell soundlessly to the floor.

And so out of self-preservation, Whumpee thrust his hips into the air and pushed his face to the floor, his bare ass on full display. He shifted weight into his palms and spread his legs out, his dick and balls tumbled forward, swaying slightly while he found his balance. His hands reached back behind him, blindly tracing the outsides of his thighs, following a line up and over to the round cleft of his butt cheeks.

Choking down a sob, he forced his ass apart. He disgracefully presented his hole before Whumper’s shining, ravenous eyes.

The captor’s jeans fell to the ground. The man dropped to his knees, settling himself in the space between Whumpee’s open legs. 

“When I’m done with you, you are going to fucking thank me like your life depends on it.”

The sudden, high-pitched beep of the washing machine pierced the quiet of the room, signalling that the washing was done. 

Whumpee didn’t dare move an inch.

“And after I’ve filled you up,” Whumper’s hot breath hit his ear. 

“You’re going to tell me exactly which limb to cut off.”

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // epilogue

summary: a few years later...

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

here it is :) the epilogue :)

(i'm crying, could you tell??) i figured it was time to post this now that we've officially entered the overlapping requiem/michigan cherry era. tbh i was just afraid to let these two go bc i love them so much.

thank you all again SO so much for all the love on this fic. it has truly meant everything to me that so many people came on this actual JOURNEY with me, i never intended this to be so long but here we are.

anyway, stick around for requiem!! and i hope you loved this if you made it this far!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

You were all dressed up in one of your finest gowns, attending the gala that preceded the presidential election.

Coriolanus was running, of course, and you were so incredibly proud. He's worked toward this for years, and you had been there every step of the way since the tenth annual Hunger Games, all those years ago. It felt like a distant memory- albeit one that still haunted you regularly.

You were a whole new person. A Capitol citizen most of the year, and you were happy most of the time. You and Coryo had always gone home in the summers, though, to spend your days surrounded by friends and family under the District Twelve sun. You always looked forward to it, but three months never felt like quite enough time. You missed your old life, but that's all it could be now.

While some Capitol elite was talking your ear off about the upcoming games, that's all you can think about. Well, how after the election that your boyfriend would most certainly win, those summers of peace would be a thing of the past. It was hard to think about, which is why you focussed on how you could work around it. Perhaps you would make smaller visits throughout the year- although Coryo was prepping you for the endless tasks that would even be put onto you as the First Lady of Panem. Once he wins the election, he would propose- and it would be followed by the wedding of the century. You didn't know if you dreaded it or if the pressure of it all just scared you beyond what excitement could repair.

"Miss Y/L/N?" Your train of thought is abruptly interrupted and you hum in response, bringing the champagne glass to your lips, acting like you were paying attention the whole time.

"Yes?" You respond as you lower your glass. "My apologies, I just spaced out for a moment there. It's a big day, after all..." You chuckle to recover, tilting your head slightly at them.

"I was just asking if you had any input in the arena for the next Games, if you could give us any hints." The man asks, seemingly impatient with you getting distracted.

"Oh," You reply, smile fading softly. "No, I- I really try to stay out of all of that." You laugh nervously, gripping tighter onto the glass as you take another sip, relieved when you feel someone's hand on your arm.

"Y/N, come sit. Coriolanus's speech is about to start, he got me to save you a seat at my table." Sejanus says, linking his arm with yours.

You politely excuse yourself from the conversation and allow him to pull you away. "Many thanks." You whisper to him, chuckling slightly as you glance back over your shoulder at the older man you were speaking to. "Some people are so tone-deaf, aren't they?"

"Most definitely." He sighs, shaking his head as he guides you toward his table at the front of the banquet hall, close to the stage. "Apparently that will never change."

Sejanus Plinth was your saving grace all these years, that, however, had never changed. You didn't see him as much anymore, with you being locked up in your office in the Snow penthouse focused on writing book after book until you were burnt out. His role as a doctor in and out of the Districts certainly didn't help either, but you knew he was partial to working back home in Twelve so he could spend more time with Lucy Gray. You were glad he was much more fulfilled in his adult life than you were; you always knew he would do well and you were proud. You had to take moments every so often to remind yourself that when you first met him and Coryo, you had been sad that you wouldn't get to see the men they would become but you had wondered. Now, you had your answers.

"Is that not the truth." You scoff under your breath, smiling and giving a quick wave to a few familiar faces as you pass. You had become somewhat of a people-pleasing expert, the same way Coriolanus had.

You sit down at the table at the front of the room just as the lights slightly dim, and the spotlight hits the stage. You gently cross one leg over the other, careful not to wrinkle your dress and clap in just the perfect polite way you had learned how to over the years, smiling as you see Coryo walk up onto the stage.

He waves, and people whistle and clap, and the smile on his face seems a little more genuine than it normally is during these speeches. Of course, though, this is his final address before he no doubt gets voted in as president, and you know that he is excited.

"Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for coming out tonight..." He says, in a subtle cue to get people to quiet down so he could speak, a drink still in his hand that he delicately hovers above the podium next to him. "This has been such an incredible opportunity for both of us running, and I must say, it's been fun." He tips the glass toward the other table at the front, and your eyes follow the movement to the other candidate, your friend and former classmate, Hilarius Heavensbee. They've never gotten along, and you know Hilarius wants nothing to do with this job. Not really. It makes you sad, a little bit, that his family would push him this far when he had confided in you in his freshman year that it wasn't what he wanted.

The man just gives Coryo a polite but nervous smile, taking another sip out of his own champagne glass. From where you were, you could see his hand trembling. You knew he would have to go next, and Coriolanus Snow was always a tough act to follow.

"Now, I am very happy about this turnout, because I have two important announcements to make." He continues, and whispers fill the room. You look over at Sejanus, a slight look of shock on your face. You didn't know he had anything special to announce, and he always kept you in the loop on everything. Sejanus just shrugs, looking back up at Coryo again. It must not actually be a big deal- it was probably just thanking some more people who have donated to his campaign.

"Firstly," He clears his throat, taking a step to the side as the screen behind him lights up. "For just a moment, see me as your head game maker and forget all about me running for president. Or don't, actually, maybe keep that in mind, but at the back of your mind." He chuckles, the little joke making the audience laugh. He was much more personable now than he once was, you smile a little as you remember helping him write his earlier speeches in a way that would make him more likable. "With the help of my fellow candidate and personal good friend, we are trying something new when it comes to The Hunger Games."

When he speaks, your heart drops and you sit up a little straighter- feeling all eyes on you as you just focus on him. For the first time, he looks down at you and gives you a small smile, the slightest nod in an effort to reassure you that it wasn't as scary as it sounded. You swallow and just keep your smile on as best as you can, ignoring all the stares.

"So, we all love The Games. They're exciting, the stakes are high, and I know every year we all pick our favourite tributes to root for and it's hard to watch them fall but, god, do I know better than anyone how good it feels when they win." Your cheeks burn intensely as Coryo sends a smile and a wink your way, and the screen behind him flashes to a picture of the two of you, taken after your shared university graduation just a couple of years ago. You were both smiling, but he was looking at you as he held you tight around your waist, and you looked into the camera and held up a three-finger salute. People are laughing and awe-ing at the photo of the two of you, and you laugh nervously, looking over at Sejanus with slightly panicked eyes.

You would be absolutely fine with this if he had just run it by you before, and you knew that whether you liked it or not, the Games were an integral part of who you were now, and always would be- but you certainly didn't want your name on anything to do with these new changes they're making. But, he wouldn't be talking about you at all if he knew you would hate it. You had to remind yourself of that.

"So, you all know my beautiful Y/N, of course, we're all big fans of hers here," Coryo says, gesturing to where you were sitting and you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head at him in a way that would appear teasing to everyone else while he waits for everyone to finish clapping for you. "Don't get embarrassed already, darling, I've got a bit more to say about you so just sit tight, okay? Nothing bad, I promise." He says to you, looking into your eyes even as he stands up on the stage, everyone's laughter echoing in the background.

"So, I have known Y/N and her outstanding mind for years now. The Games are what brought us together when we were both just kids, but you all already know that story so I'll spare you the details. The bottom line is, I am so proud of the woman she has become. She's written two books that will soon become three, she graduated in the top three percent of our class with only a District education to build on, and she is the single most well-spoken, well-mannered, beautiful, and caring woman I have ever met. Truly, she has changed my entire outlook on life." He says, talking more so to the audience than to you, knowing that you're so embarrassed by this. And he would be correct. "It has truly been a privilege to know her, and to love her."

"But that was a long journey for us both, and a seemingly endless uphill battle for her recovery, despite her strength. The Games can be scary, let's be totally honest. It's life or death, and winning will change you, but Y/N came out the other side and wanted to make a difference for her family and that inspired me. And she continues to inspire me every day." Coryo says, pausing to take a sip of his champagne again. "So, all of this is to say, I'd like to thank her for all her support through my education, this campaign, and through the life we're building together. She inspired this idea in me and with the help of my fellow game makers as well as the Plinth family..." You look over at Sejanus as he continues, suddenly realizing he must have known about what was happening. He keeps a small smile on his lips as he watches, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"This," Coryo says, turning to look up at the screen while a picture comes up of a small cul-de-sac of beautiful homes. "Is just the beginning of the Victor's Rehabilitation Initiative."

You tilt your head, a shocked and confused smile on your face as you take in the photo and try to decipher what he's talking about.

"So, recently, Y/N has been more open with everyone about the struggles that came with being crowned a victor in our Games. Yes, they get to walk away with their lives, but what if winning meant something more? What if it meant security for them and their families, so they're not returning to their Districts with no sense of what to do next? That, everyone, is what this program is for. To help the strongest of them find a purpose again, and to encourage the bravest of Panem's children to get back on their feet after such an impressive feat as winning the Games."

You have to very consciously force your jaw to stay shut when you realize what he is saying, clapping along with everyone else while your smile relaxes into something more genuine. You knew that he wanted to abolish the Games altogether, and you knew that no matter who won the election, they wouldn't proceed for much longer. This was the first step in that direction, and you were flooded with emotions. Pride, excitement, relief.

"For ten years, until the beginning of the mentorship program, our victors were cast aside. Never to be heard from again after their win, I, for one, became curious as to what happened to them after the Games as soon as I met Y/N, and I have heard that question from many of you as well since we were all given the pleasure of getting to know her." Coryo's smile is one of pride and excitement, sparing a glance at you as he allows the audience to have their responses. So far, all seemingly positive despite the present undertones of him caring about the people in the Districts. He was a smooth talker, he knew exactly how to command a space and get people to believe what he wanted. And he was using it for good. "I mean, how many other victors have something extraordinary, just like her, that won't be utilized or nurtured? We never knew."

"From now on," He continues, the crowd quieting down. "Our victors will be given homes in what we've decided to call Victor's Villages in each of the Twelve Districts. They'll have ensured security for themselves and their families, and a generous sum of prize money to help them with whatever they need. Whether that's medical attention, both physical and emotional, or, if they so choose, when they reach the appropriate age, they could apply at our university to further their education. Though, between you and I, admittance is not guaranteed." He winks at the end and it's accompanied by laughter, which you try and go along with, but you're too close to tears to even process fully what was going on. This was a huge step in the right direction, even if like he said, acceptance was not guaranteed. "What I mean, is that it will be up to them. They can live their lives to the fullest, just like our gem, Y/N."

He looks at you again, and you can really only see his blurry form through your tears until someone is handing you a handkerchief to dry your eyes while people clap and cheer over the idea.

This was something you couldn't have imagined years ago. This was everything you've wanted since the Games- to make a difference, for people to care. And it was happening right before your eyes. Thanks to him. Thanks to you.

"And with that," Coryo says after a few moments, waiting for the crowd to quiet down after taking in your reaction. "We can move on to my second announcement, which is my formal withdrawal from the presidential campaign."

Gasps fill the room and your smile disappears, a hand coming up to your mouth as you look up at him, shocked and confused with the announcement that blindsided even you.

"Are you happy here?" You ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the evening as you walk from your parent's house back to your own in the Victor's Village.

"I couldn't be happier." Coryo replies through a soft sigh, swinging your hand gently as it's clasped between you.

"Are you sure?" You say again, feeling a little uncertain despite weeks of his endless reassurance that this was, in fact, what he wanted.

To him, this scenario was perfect. He could keep his job as head gamemaker, planning to only return to the Capitol for a few months or so every year for the Games. He knew that wouldn't last much longer, though, not with Hilarius Heavensbee in office. Coryo gives it a few years and a few major "accidental" mistakes on his part for the viewership of the annual event to die out and open the door for the president to call them off, just like he had always wanted to.

And every day Coryo would wake up to see you in your happy place, the only place you'd ever felt truly at home. He was more than happy to give it all up for the greatest sake of seeing you smile.

"Of course." He smiles, never growing tired of telling you the same thing over and over again if it meant he could ease your mind.

The moonlight bounces off his in a way that makes you think it could be glowing if you didn't know any better.

"I told you that I would be. Years ago. You remember?"

"Of course I remember."

He lets out a breathy laugh at your reply, shaking his head. "That was a foolish question. I don't think you've ever forgotten a single word anyone has ever spoken to you."

"Sure I have." You say, tilting your head as you look up at him, trying to catch the same moonlight reflect in the blue of his eyes as you walk down the path. "I just don't forget... the important bits."

"I will try my best to take care of you while you're here."

"My honest, best advice? Figure out a way to escape."

"I can't have killed them all for nothing."

"You are not a beast."

"Please, don't walk away again."

"I survived because I had to learn to love you."

"Like in your books?" His voice interrupts the swirling of speech from years past, and you shrug.

"Not exactly... it feels different. Because I can hear it, still." You explain, voice dropping into something more quiet as the remnants of your fear eats away at the back of your mind, the cold night breeze imprinting your skin.

"God, the way your mind works, love." He says, and as you look up at him to be met with an expression of pride that always changes everything. "You amaze me every day."

You stay quiet, cheeks getting hot as you look back down at the path.

"Are you happy?" Coryo asks after a moment, eyes never daring to leave your profile as you walk next to him, hardly more than a silhouette in the dark. But certainly more than a ghost, now.

"I am." You reply, the smile creeping back onto your lips. "Such hours are beautiful to live, but hard to describe..."

He hums softly in response. That was a yes, but also a no in the most you fashion possible. His heart remains heavy in his chest knowing that there is nothing more he can do for you to help you heal besides be present. "Is there anything more I can do?" He asks anyway, hoping that maybe you would come up with something.

You shake your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile laced with reassurance.

"Well, then..." He sighs, rather dramatically. "I did have an idea, you know, something that might make you happy. Even just for this one beautiful hour."

You let out a laugh, squeezing his hand a bit. "If that was you asking me if we could-"

"I would like to marry you." He says, for the first time ever, not feeling guilty about interrupting you.

You stop in your tracks, and he stops with you instantly as if he were waiting for it, his hold on your hand not faltering for a second.

"I... you-"

"Darling," He starts, stepping in front of you now, blocking out the moon but hardly putting a dent in the presence of the stars over his shoulders, their soft light reflecting off his blonde curls. "I do love nothing in the world so well as you."

Your shock and confusion begins to wear off as he speaks the familiar words, and you laugh softly. "In your own words, Coryo."

He tilts his head at you, clearly not having expected that kind of response. He expected a lot of things. He planned for everything that could go wrong, he prepared for rejection, for tears, panic, even, but he did not expect that. "I, uh..." He chuckles nervously, giving his head a quick shake to get himself back on track.

He had read that play just for you. Just for this- because he knew how much you loved it, and he remembered the joy it brought you. The smile on your face when you told him about it that day at the lake had never left his mind.

"If you ask me in your own words, I shall say yes." You assure him, hands gripping tighter onto his despite your surprisingly calm demeanor.

"I thought you would like that... You know, knowing you..."

He's quick to defend himself, and your eyes almost sparkle as you look up into his own. "We should have learned by now that our story is our own, yes?" You ask. "We are not Beatrice and Benedick, or Laurie and Amy, or even Romeo and Juliet, just like I used to think we were supposed to be when my days were numbered. I thought I wanted one of those stories to be mine at least once before I died, but I was wrong." You say, taking in the embarrassed flush of his cheeks even in the dim lighting. "You are you, and I am me. No matter what you say I will be happy to marry you, so long as you ask me yourself, and not as someone else."

"Alright then." He gives you a curt nod, a smile on his face as he lowers himself in front of you, careless of the dirt that would no doubt cake into the knee of his pants. "You're everything to me, Y/N/N. My world... my heart, my soul. I didn't know what love was until I met you. I've spent the entirety of my adult life learning to love you, and I never intend to stop. Not even for a moment, so please, let me marry you, love."

"A Coryo indeed." You say softly, recalling the first day you had met him- when you only knew him as Coriolanus, and how far you both had come since then. The growing smile on your lips twitches and you nod, holding his hand a little tighter and attempting to pull Coryo back to his feet. "Of course I will. Nothing would make me happier."

He stands again and very quickly his arms are around you, holding you just as tight as they always had.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

if you want to join the taglist for future fics (requiem, michigan cherry, etc.) as well as the bonus content for this fic, follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on post notifs! all i do over there is reblog my own writing, so it's effectively a taglist :)

thanks again for being here.

xx, raye

[hyperactively-me]

ask from @redzscare

(king!ghost x princess!reader au) -- anger

i just wanna say oh my god, thank you for your inbox message with those two amazing and well thought out ideas!!!! i would also love to know your other ideas if you still have any :) and i know its been over a month since you requested, but i wanted to do your ideas justice! i decided to split them up into two separate pieces so that it can flow better in the story, but i have your first request in my "to be written" notes, and it will be posted in the future!!!! i hope you like it! the angst is immaculate and heart-wrenching. anyway, here is #2!!!

word count: ~3.6k

warnings: fighting/yelling, angst lots of angst/hurt (like A LOT, A TON, he's so mean, you've been warned), hurt/comfort, happy ending!!!

The past few weeks have been nothing but stressful for Kastron. A southern kingdom, for no clear reason, has been trying to infiltrate the borders of Kastron. As the tension between the two realms escalated, King Simon found himself ensnared in the web of political turmoil and military strategies, his every waking moment consumed by the threat looming at the kingdom's doorstep.

As the southern kingdom persisted in its attempts to breach Kastron’s defenses, Simon’s frustration grew. Kastron’s forces have been able to hold off the enemy for the past few weeks, but the battle was proving to get more difficult by the day. His days were spent in council meetings, devising counterstrategies, and restless nights plagued by the knowledge of impending conflict.

Throughout the past few weeks as Simon was extremely busy, you had taken to caring for more things around the castle. By no means was it an easy task. Your already busy schedules were now packed with more mundane, tedious tasks. You had to step into a few roles that Simon usually took care of, thrown into uncharted territory that you now had to know like the back of your hand. 

To say you were stressed was an understatement. To say that you felt secure in this new position would be a lie. Hell, even with your lessons, you were still slightly insecure about helping run a whole kingdom. The lessons were truly helpful, and you really were learning useful information, but to actually put this knowledge into practice proved to be more difficult than you thought; a learning curve, if you will. 

Every evening before you went to bed, you watched Simon with a heavy heart. Stress etched lines on his face, and the once affectionate bond between you strained under the weight of your responsibilities. 

The command room now had countless maps, scrolls, and military reports scattered across the tables, and you found yourself poring over them, trying to decipher strategies that seemed more like cryptic codes than plans for defense. The language of war was harsh, and its intricacies were not easily grasped. You also had to take care of more civilian matters, tending to disputes and other technicalities that arose when handling such matters. Managing the palace as well proved to be more difficult, although it was not as prioritized as other duties you had to upkeep. 

Simon, in his stress and preoccupation, had not noticed the added weight on your shoulders. The castle, usually filled with warmth, now echoed with the sounds of strategizing military personnel and the tension that gripped every corner.

One day, as you were immersed in the endless paperwork, a knock on the chamber door interrupted your thoughts. Simon, looking more fatigued than ever, stood at the threshold.

“I need these reports on the southern borders done by tomorrow morning. Make sure they’re accurate,” he said, his voice clipped and devoid of the usual tenderness. It echoed the commanding voice he reserved for his soldiers.

You take a breath. “I’m not sure I can have those ready for you by tomorrow Simon. Can’t you ask someone else to do them for me? I’m sure Price can—”

“Price is extremely busy devising strategies. He doesn’t have time for paperwork.” 

Simon's curt response echoed through the room, leaving you with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. The weight of the responsibilities, the unrelenting pressure, and now Simon's growing impatience were pushing you to the brink.

“Simon, I'm doing my best,” you pleaded, looking up from the parchment strewn across the table. “I'm still learning, and there's just so much to handle.”

Simon's eyes flashed with frustration. “We don't have the luxury of time for you to ‘learn.’ We need results, and we need them now.”

The exhaustion etched on his face mirrored your own weariness. The kingdom's issues had taken its toll on both of you, driving a wedge between you.

“I’m just asking for your patience,” you implored, hoping for a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

His gaze remained unyielding. “I ask you to take care of things in my absence, to support me. And it seems even that is too much.”

“I'm sorry, but I'm trying my best,” you scoff.

Simon scoffs back, his expression a stern resolve. 

“I don't have time for apologies. I need solutions. Figure it out,” he said, turning on his heel and leaving the room without a backward glance.

Left alone, burdened by the weight of your responsibilities, an angry tear escapes the corner of your eye. The castle walls seem to close in on you, and with a swift motion, you brush the tear away, forcing your attention back to the task at hand.

. . .

It was an innocent mistake, a forgotten task that finally ignited Simon's brewing anger like a firecracker on the brink of explosion. 

As you stood before him, explaining the oversight, his eyes darkened with frustration.

“Are you even paying attention?" Simon's voice rose with frustration.

The storm within him erupted, and hurtful words spilled from his lips like daggers. "How could you be so careless?" he bellowed. "This is important, and you can't even handle the simplest tasks!"

"I'm sorry, Simon. I’ve been busy, but I'll fix it," you pleaded, trying to diffuse the growing storm.

"Fix it?" Simon scoffed, his anger unabated. "You're always making mistakes, aren't you? I don't know why I expected anything different from you. You’re just a fuckin’ spoiled little princess, just complaining about all the work she has to do. You’ve never seen a day of real work in your whole life, and the moment you have to do anything remotely helpful, you become useless.” 

You’re stunned into silence. It feels like your heart has fallen out of your chest, your throat constricting with anxiety. This isn’t the Simon you knew. 

"You can't possibly understand the pressure I'm under!” Simon's voice carried a harsh edge as he spoke, the strain evident in every word.

"I tried my best, Simon. I'm not used to this," you replied, hurt laced through your voice. The word useless echoes through your mind. How could he? 

"Your best isn't good enough. We can't afford mistakes," he snapped.

“We’re supposed to be a team," you responded gently, trying to bridge the growing chasm between you.

But Simon's patience had worn thin. “You can't even manage the affairs within the castle! How am I supposed to rely on you when you can't even handle the simplest tasks?”

"I'm sorry, Simon. I never wanted to let you down," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the tension.

"Let me down?" Simon laughed bitterly. "You were never lifting me up in the first place. Just a burden I have to carry alongside everythin’ else I have to worry about."

His words pierced through you like a million iron swords. The once warm and loving connection between you and Simon now felt frayed, hanging by the thinnest of threads. Your attempts to support him had become ammunition for his anger.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm not cut out for this,” you admitted shortly, your shoulders slumping under the weight of defeat.

Simon's expression twisted with a mixture of frustration and exasperation. “That's the first sensible thing you've said.”

His cruel words struck a nerve, tearing down the foundations of trust and understanding that had defined your relationship. His words hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste. Hurt and frustration welled up within you, but you swallowed them and bottled them up, unwilling to add to Simon's burden.

The pain in your eyes did not escape Simon, but his frustration blinded him to the depth of his own words. In that moment, the man you loved seemed like a stranger, his anger, frustrations, and impatience casting a shadow over you.

With a heavy heart, you walk away, desperately holding back tears. It took everything within you to not let out an audible sob, clasping your hand over your mouth. You push open the door hastily, stumbling out into the hallway. You wipe your now falling tears off your cheeks with the back of your hand as you make your way to your old bedroom. 

The echoes of Simon's bitter words lingered in the corridor as you escaped into the dimly lit hallway. Desperation clawed at your chest, and with each step, the weight of his accusations pressed harder. Holding back sobs, you fumbled your way to the shared bedroom, seeking solace in the sanctuary you once knew.

Once inside, the room felt emptier than before, its warmth replaced by an icy chill. Closing the door behind you, you allowed a few silent tears to fall, the pain of Simon's harsh words cutting deep. As you glanced around the room, the memories of happier times haunted the corners. A sense of isolation settled in, and you felt like a stranger in the very place that used to bring comfort. Swallowing hard, you allow yourself to let it all out, crying into the empty bedroom. The resilient facade you had built over the weeks seemed to crumble in the face of his words.

The weight of the crown, both figuratively and literally, felt heavier than ever. With a shudder, you begin to remove the regalia that symbolized your responsibility as queen, a responsibility that had become increasingly difficult.

The empty now seemed like a cold, unwelcoming space. You curled up, hugging a pillow close to your chest, seeking any source of comfort. The room held a somber silence, a silence you haven’t heard since you were last in this room, before you had fallen in love with Simon. 

As sleep finally overcame you, the hope for a better tomorrow mingled with the ache of your strained relationship. 

. . .

Sleep had been elusive, and the echoes of Simon's bitter words reverberated in your mind. With a sigh, you rose from the solitude of your old bedroom, still haunted by the sense of isolation that clung to you.

He hadn’t even come looking for you. 

You had called a maid to help you get dressed in your room, but made her swear to not say anything about you being back in this room to the rest of the staff. You purposefully waited until after your usual breakfast time with Simon to get something to eat, strolling into the kitchen to request a small breakfast. 

After breakfast, you read through your schedule for the day. Today you were supposed to have defense lessons with Simon. Not going to happen. Taking a pen, you scratch it off your to-do list. 

With a sigh, you run through the rest of your plan for the day, mostly consisting of busy work and advising. 

The day unfolded in a haze of responsibilities, each task demanding your focus. Advising on matters of governance and managing the affairs of the kingdom became a refuge, a temporary escape from the emotional turmoil that threatened to swallow you whole.

Dinner that night came and went, and again you had refused to sit at the table with him. Instead, you chose to wait until after he was gone to eat. Sitting at the expansive table, you picked around at your food, taking small bites before you became nauseous with unease. 

This was the longest you’ve gone without Simon the whole time you’ve proclaimed your love for him, and it’s only been a day. After finishing your solitary meal, you made your way to your old bedroom yet again. The night pressed on, silent and unwavering, wrapping the castle in a cocoon of quiet melancholy. And so, you retired to your old bedroom, bracing yourself for another night of sleepless contemplation in the face of a relationship that seemed to be slipping through your fingers.

. . . 

Another agonizingly painful day had gone by of you avoiding Simon. The same evening, he had come to knock on your door.

He called your name from behind the door. His voice sounded gentle, yet strained. 

You stayed silent, unmoving from your curled up position on the bed. 

He persisted, knocking louder this time. 

“Go away,” you yell, fighting back more tears as your heartstrings were being tugged with every time he called your name. 

“‘M not going away until you come out,” his muffled voice filtered through from under the door.

“Yeah, well, I may as well rot away in here. Leave me alone, Ghost.” 

That shut him up immediately. You could hear his footsteps fade away in the distance. 

You sob into your pillow, burying your face in the fabric to muffle your cries. 

. . .

The next morning was rough. You were groggy, two nights of restless sleep taking a toll on you. Right before you entered the kitchen for breakfast you were stopped by Ghost. He had jumped in front of you out of nowhere, blocking you from entering the kitchen. 

“Dove, please—” he began. 

“Don’t call me that, get away from me–”

You try to sidestep him, looking at the ground as you attempt to move past him. 

“Just listen to me–” he grabs your shoulders firmly, forcing you to stay in place.

“Let go of me–” you shrug his hands off, yanking his wrists off your shoulders with a vice grip. He lets you shake him off you, but still moves to block you from entering the kitchen.

You sigh angrily, finally looking up at him with a death glare. 

“Oh, you finally need me for something, right? Is this what this is all about?” 

Simon's eyes held a mixture of concern and frustration. “I need to talk to you. Please, just listen to me.”

The coldness in your expression didn't waver. “Talk? Is this about another mistake I made, or perhaps you've found another fault in your ‘spoiled princess’?”

Simon winced at the reference to his hurtful words. “No, it's not about that. It's about us. I... I overreacted, and I said things I shouldn't have. I need you to understand the pressure I'm under.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Pressure? Yes, I understand. I've been picking up work and dealing with responsibilities I’m not prepared for. I understand pressure very well.”

Simon's jaw tightened, regret flashing in his eyes. "I know I've been distant, and I've let this problem consume me for the past few weeks. But, dove, we can work through this. I need you.”

Your anger flared. “Now you need me? When everything is falling apart? What about when I needed you? You were too busy berating me.” 

The word berating came out stressed, and a flare of emotions bubbled in your chest. You fought against tears threatening to spring from your eyes. 

Simon's expression softened, nothing but remorse in his eyes. "I fucked up. I should’ve never said those things to you. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. Please, let me make it right.”

You shake your head, taking a step back. 

“You can't just apologize and expect everything to go back to normal. Words have consequences.” A fat tear rolls down your cheek. “I’m not one of your soldiers you can order around.” 

The moment Simon sees the tear, knowing that he’s the cause of it, he comes crashing down. 

He drops to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading with a desperate intensity. “I never meant to hurt you. I can't bear to see you cry, especially because of me. Please, give me a chance to make things right.”

You sniffle, wiping the tear away quickly. The raw vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heart, but you held onto the shards of your wounded pride. 

He reaches for you, holding your hips tightly in his grasp as he looks up at you from the floor. His hands on your hips sought reassurance, his eyes pleading for a chance at redemption. You fold your arms over your chest, hugging yourself tightly. 

“Please, love, please, I will do anything, I’ll prove to you every single day for the rest of my life that I can treat you the way you deserve. I don’t want to turn into my father.” 

His thumbs press into the flesh of your hips, his usual stoic demeanor crumbles, and in this moment of vulnerability, he’s laying bare his regrets. 

His father. His terrible, disgusting, abusive father. 

"You’re not turning into your father, Simon," you whispered, your voice carrying reassurance. "But you also can't treat me like that ever again. We're a team. But it's also not just about the words. It's about trust and understanding.”

He nods, swallowing thickly. 

"Please, dove," he implored, his voice choking with emotion. “I never meant to hurt you like this. I'm begging you, give me a chance to make things right. I can't stand to see you in pain.”

“I miss you,” he whispers, and you spot a few tears in the corners of his eyes. You’ve never seen him cry before. “I miss you, and I don’t deserve you. Not after what I did to you.” 

Your heart wavered, torn between the hurt he caused and the raw vulnerability he now displayed. The sight of Simon, a powerful and composed ruler, reduced to tears, spoke volumes about the depth of his regret.

As you looked down at him, a swirl of conflicting emotions clouded you. Part of you wanted to pull him into an embrace, to reassure him that things could get better. Yet, the wounds were still fresh, and trust can’t be easily mended. You swipe his tears away with the pad of your thumb. 

“Simon,” you began, your voice gentle but firm, "this isn't something that can be fixed overnight. It's going to take time."

He nodded vigorously, his tear-streaked face desperate for any glimmer of hope. "I'll do anything, dove. Anything to make it right.”

The sincerity in his voice resonated, and for a moment, you softened. “Simon, I need you to understand that we're in this together. We need to communicate and support each other.”

Simon nodded, a genuine determination in his eyes. "I promise you, I'll be there for you. No more takin’ out my frustrations on you, it will never happen again, so long as I live.” 

You sighed, the weight of the situation still heavy on your shoulders. “Actions speak louder than words.”

He nodded again, his gaze unwavering. "I'll prove it to you, every day."

Releasing your hips, Simon stood up, his eyes never leaving yours. The air between you held a mix of tension and tentative hope. 

“I love you, dove. I love you.”

He wipes his face clear of the tears, and you stand there, twisting your hands together. His hands brush over your upper arms, causing you to shiver slightly, but this time you don’t back away. You let him ever so slowly pull you in for a hug, and you reluctantly grasp on to his tunic. His arms pull you in tighter now, and he strokes your hair in reassurance. 

You breathe out the quietest, “I love you.”

. . .

A few weeks passed, and the castle, once shrouded in tension, began to regain its warmth. The scars of those horrendous three days were healing, and your relationship with Simon has strengthened more than ever. The air was lighter and you felt like a significant change had occurred between you and Simon. 

Simon had indeed lived up to his promise. He consistently showed effort in rebuilding trust. Small, thoughtful gestures became the norm—unexpected flowers, shared quiet moments, and the tenderness in his voice returned. The voice he has reserved only for you. You had moved back into his room after a while, sharing a bed again has never felt so good for you. Honestly, you were relieved. You didn’t have any doubt that Simon wouldn’t live up to his promises. 

The castle had transformed back into a sanctuary. The sounds of strategizing military personnel were replaced with the hum of everyday life. The warmth returned, and the tension that once gripped every corner dissipated like a distant memory.

The conflict in the south had been resolved after Kastron’s forces were successfully able to defend the border. Their motives were still unclear, but Simon had put it behind him. 

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself in the garden. The air was crisp, and the fragrance of blooming flowers filled the space. Simon joined you, and together you strolled through the gardens, hand in hand.

“I missed this,” you smile, leaning into Simon’s side. 

Simon tightened his grip around you, his eyes softening as he looked at the vibrant hues of the sunset. "I missed this too."

The weight that once burdened your relationship had lifted, replaced by a renewed sense of connection and trust. The garden echoed with the shared laughter and whispered promises of your love, and it always will. 

Simon glanced down at you, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. “Do you remember the first time we walked through these gardens together?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You giggled, the memory surfacing in your mind. "How could I forget? You were trying to plant the most random assortment of seeds during the off-season.”

Simon laughed, a genuine sound that warmed your heart. “I was nervous. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“And look at us now,” you said, gazing up at him. “Perfectly imperfect.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “I love you, darlin.’”

The sincerity in his words made your heart flutter. “I promise to always be with you.”

The sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow over the castle and the garden. As you continued your leisurely stroll, the castle loomed in the distance, its turrets illuminated by the fading sunlight. 

The stars began to twinkle in the evening sky, and Simon pulled you closer. “Let's stay out a bit longer, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nod, nuzzling against him. 

You take a beat.

“I love you, too,” you whisper. 

He strokes your waist, squeezing your flesh in his grip.

“I love you.”

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[lovezbrownies]

Office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia offOffice lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia Office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia Office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia Office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia office lady Nia..

Making this made me blush don't ask why

The office's Monarch. (Yandere Queen?Boss? x GN!Reader.)

Nia's Masterlist - General Masterlist

Synopsis: You're overworked, and your bachelorette of a boss has the remedy.

Nia Bloodwen x GN!Reader

Warnings: Big bad boss Nia, the office not liking darling, overworked darling, kinda suggestive? But that's a given with Nia tbh

Today, you couldn’t afford to do anything but work. The prospect of a lunch break was nothing more than a distant dream, as you stared at the seemingly endless rows of emails and stacks of paperwork that had been cruelly dropped onto your desk. All courtesy of a coworker who was probably basking in the sun on a beach somewhere, enjoying their paid vacation. The memory of their smug grin as they left only fueled your growing frustration. Damned rat.

The gnawing hunger in your stomach was easier to ignore than the heavy weight of responsibility pressing down on you. There was simply no time to stop and eat. Deadlines loomed large, and your priority was getting through the mountain of tasks in front of you before they became an avalanche.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair for a moment of respite. Most of the office didn’t like you anyway—no one would even notice if you disappeared for a few minutes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d earned their disdain without ever meaning to, and truth be told, you couldn’t entirely blame them.

From the moment you had been hired, Nia Bloodwen, your boss, had taken a particular interest in you. She had carved out a special place for you in the company that no one else seemed to occupy. Whether it was extending your lunch hours, giving you extra time off, or offering extensions on projects without a second thought, Nia was always there to make sure you were treated differently. Far better than the rest of the staff, to be precise.

And everyone had noticed. There was no hiding it—Nia didn’t even try to be subtle. Her favoritism was as blatant as the sky was blue, and you’d been given the unfortunate title of “Boss’ Pet,” a nickname that followed you through the halls like a shadow. The bitterness of your coworkers was palpable. WenBlood & Co. didn’t have an “Employee of the Month” program until you arrived, but since your first week, your photo had been plastered up on the wall every single month. It was as if Nia had created the title just for you, a constant reminder to the others that you were different. Special. Untouchable.

It didn’t help that whenever someone tried to strike up a casual conversation with you, Nia would appear out of nowhere, ready to defend her favorite.

“Mister Bajaj! What are you doing loitering by L/N’s desk? Get back to work!”

Or, with an icy glare at Mrs. Alotaibi, “I expect better from you. Don’t distract L/N with idle chatter. I won’t tolerate it.”

Even minor offenses like a friendly email exchange would end in a scolding that echoed across the office. People learned quickly to avoid you, preferring to keep their distance rather than risk being humiliated by the boss. The few who still dared to interact with you did so cautiously, sending projects to your personal email just to avoid Nia’s wrath. She monitored everyone’s work emails like a hawk, and no one wanted to be the next victim of one of her public takedowns.

“Mister Bajaj, another non-work-related email and you’re done. L/N has real work to do, not time for your cat gifs.”

And it wasn’t just a casual comment. Her voice would cut through the air like a blade, sharp and cold, as she openly threatened anyone who dared waste your time. Nia’s “minions,” as she liked to call the rest of the office, were left walking on eggshells whenever you were involved.

For them, Nia was terrifying. She ruled with an iron fist, barking orders, threatening layoffs, and keeping everyone in a constant state of anxiety. But with you? She was different. For reasons you couldn’t quite grasp, Nia was always soft and gentle, as if she were a completely different person when she was around you. Her cold demeanor would melt, replaced with warmth and compassion that bordered on obsessive. She listened to your complaints, accommodated your requests—even when you didn’t ask for anything. One day, you had casually mentioned that you liked coffee, and by the next morning, a brand-new coffee machine had been installed on your desk.

That’s when you learned to stop admitting to liking things. Nia took every word you said as gospel, going to great lengths to cater to your needs—even when you didn’t need it.

Normally, you could tolerate it. You even found it amusing at times, though you were always careful to never push Nia too far. She was your boss, after all, and your job was on the line if she ever decided you weren’t worth the trouble. But today was different. Today, the sheer volume of work in front of you left no room for her theatrics.

Emails kept pouring into your inbox faster than you could respond, and the paperwork—God, the paperwork—had only grown worse by the hour. Your own tasks were still manageable, but your coworker’s load, due tomorrow, was like a ticking time bomb. You cursed yourself for agreeing to take it on. You’d wanted to be helpful, to show your coworkers that you weren’t just Nia’s little pet. But now? Now you were paying for that decision, drowning in work that wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You exhaled slowly, your hands shaking slightly from the stress. Why did you care if your coworkers liked you anyway? Half of them probably didn’t deserve your time. You barely knew them, and what little you did know wasn’t exactly flattering. Yet here you were, breaking your back for them, hoping in vain that maybe, just maybe, they’d see you as more than Nia’s golden child.

While you sat stewing in frustration, Nia had been hovering at the edge of your desk, trying to coax you into joining her for lunch. For the last five minutes, she had been relentless, her voice soft yet insistent, like a melody you couldn’t get out of your head.

“I’ll give you an extension if you’re so worried about your work. Just leave it for now and come with me. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

Her low-cut top and open blouse were impossible to ignore as she leaned forward, making her presence all the more unavoidable. Nia had never been shy about her appearance, and no one dared to say anything about it. Her last name ensured that. Even HR wouldn’t touch her, not with her father, the CEO, pulling the strings. And while Nia had always dressed fashionably, you couldn’t help but notice that she had amped it up since you started working at WenBlood. Whether you were shallow enough to care didn’t matter—she knew how to get your attention, and today was no different.

But today, you were too tired. Too worn down. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying across the keyboard as you tried to finish one last email. “No, Nia,” you muttered. “I’ve got too much to do. This can’t wait. I’ve got snacks in my drawer if I need them.” You pulled open the drawer to reveal an overstuffed collection of snacks, though you didn’t even glance at it. “Go ahead without me.”

Nia wasn’t pleased with that answer. Her lips pursed slightly as she walked around the desk, her eyes flicking to your monitor. It didn’t take her long to figure out what was going on. “Wait a minute,” she said, narrowing her eyes at the project label on your screen. “I assigned these to Miss Smith. Why are you doing them?”

You hesitated for a split second, unsure of how to respond. “She’s on vacation,” you finally said. “I told her I’d handle it while she’s gone.”

Nia’s expression darkened, her irritation evident in the way her eyes flashed. Without warning, Nia walked around the desk, now right behind you as she reached down and powered off your monitor, effectively halting your work. You let out a surprised gasp, but before you could even begin to protest, Nia spun your chair around to face her.

Her manicured nails tapped against the backrest of your chair, just inches from your head. She was so close you could smell the faint traces of her expensive perfume—something floral, with a hint of spice. The scent wrapped around you, making it impossible to think straight.

“You,” she said, her voice dangerously low, “are going to take a well-deserved break with me. We are going to enjoy lunch together, and that’s final.”

Her presence was overwhelming, her beauty almost hypnotic as she stood over you, her eyes locking onto yours. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as her words sunk in. She wasn’t asking. She was telling.

Before you could muster a response, Nia’s hand slipped into yours, pulling you to your feet with surprising ease. She wasted no time looping her arm through yours, guiding you toward the door like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your legs felt shaky beneath you, your mind racing as you tried to process the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

The sudden proximity made you stiffen. Her perfume—something floral and impossibly expensive—lingered in the air between you. Your heart thudded in your chest as she pulled you along, completely ignoring the confused stares of your coworkers.

You could feel their eyes on you as Nia led you through the office, her heels clicking confidently on the tiled floor. Most of your coworkers either shrank back or quickly pretended to be busy, not wanting to draw her ire.

Outside, the heat of the midday sun hit you like a wall, and you stumbled slightly as Nia led you toward her car. It wasn’t the sleek black sports car she usually drove—it was something far more extravagant today. A silver Rolls-Royce, polished to perfection.

“Really?” you muttered under your breath, but Nia just laughed as she opened the door for you, gesturing for you to get in. “Come on, darling. You deserve to be spoiled today.”

You hesitated, glancing between her and the car. But there was no way out of this, not without making a scene. You slid into the plush leather seat with a resigned sigh, and Nia slipped in beside you, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

The restaurant she took you to was even more ridiculous than you’d imagined. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the walls were lined with gold-framed mirrors. The entire place screamed luxury, and as soon as you entered, the staff treated Nia like royalty, ushering you both to a private table.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you muttered, glancing around in disbelief. Nia just smiled, unfazed. “Nothing but the best for you, my dear. Can you even think of anyone else who can do it like me? Hah, of course not!”

The restaurant buzzed with life, the soft hum of conversation and clinking silverware creating an atmosphere that should’ve been relaxing. But with Nia sitting across from you, calm and poised, you couldn’t quite shake the sense that this wasn’t just lunch—it was something else entirely. Something orchestrated. Nia always had a way of making situations bend to her will, and today, it felt like you were the focus of her attention in a way that left you on edge.

"Relax," Nia said, her voice warm, noticing the stiffness in your posture. She slid into the seat across from you, her eyes shining with that same playful glint. "I promise, I’m not going to bite. Unless you want me to." Nia giggles, blush overcoming her cheeks.

Her tone was light, but there was a careful precision to her words, as if each one was chosen with intent. The waiter appeared and took your orders without even bothering to ask if you wanted a menu. Nia, it seemed, had already decided what would be best for you—an assumption that only deepened the quiet unease growing inside you.

You didn’t argue. It never seemed worth it.

The conversation began as usual, with Nia recounting bits of office gossip and teasing remarks about your coworkers, her voice lilting with amusement. But there was something else woven into her words, a subtle shift in the way she spoke about them—diminishing their roles, highlighting how little they mattered compared to you. It was easy to laugh along, but you couldn’t ignore the lingering sense that you were being nudged into a certain way of thinking.

And then, as the food arrived, Nia’s tone changed again, softening, becoming almost... intimate.

"I don’t like seeing you stressed," she murmured, her voice quiet and soothing. "You’re always doing so much for other people, taking on more than you should. And for what? People who don’t appreciate you?" Her gaze locked onto yours, her expression all concern, but her words dripped with something more. A subtle pressure.

You shifted in your seat, caught off guard by her intensity. "I’m fine," you replied, forcing a smile, though the weight of everything you had been dealing with was beginning to press down on you.

"Are you?" Nia asked, her voice soft but pointed, like she already knew the answer. "You’re too kind, too generous. It’s admirable, but it’s not fair. I don’t want to see you burning out just because you can’t say no." She paused, letting her words sink in, then leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice even further. "You don’t have to be that person for everyone. You don’t have to be that person for them. Not when I’m here."

The way she said it made it sound like a favor, a gift—like she was the only one who truly understood you. Before you could respond, she reached across the table, her fingers grazing the back of your hand in a gesture that seemed gentle, but there was a possessiveness to it. A subtle claim.

"L/N," she continued, her thumb tracing a slow circle on your skin, her eyes never leaving yours, "let me help you. You don’t need to carry everything on your own. I can make things easier for you." Her smile was soft, sweet even, but there was an unmistakable hint of satisfaction in her eyes, as if she knew she was pulling you closer, bit by bit.

There it was again—the sense that her kindness wasn’t without strings. But the way she said it, the way she looked at you, made it hard to resist. It was as though she was offering you exactly what you needed, exactly when you needed it. A lifeline, wrapped in velvet.

"You trust me, don’t you?" Nia asked, her voice now barely above a whisper. It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement—an expectation.

As you looked at her, you could feel the weight of her words settling around you, a promise mixed with something much heavier. And yet, there was a part of you that couldn’t help but lean into it, just a little.

"Let me take care of you, like I always do," she added, her smile widening ever so slightly, her tone light and playful again, though the undercurrent was unmistakable. You were hers, whether you realized it or not.

[adventuringblind]

Hi, I hope you are doing good 🧡

Could you do a Lando x gf where she isn't used to feel loved (for example she isn't used to hearing compliments, receiving thoughtful gifts or affectionate gestures) and when he does one of those things she doesn't know how to react and gets emotional? Like an overwhelming feeling of being loved. Thank you!

Nothing but Love

Lando Norris x Reader

Genre: fluff

Reguest: yes and I'm taking hurt/comfort and angst prompts. I'm actually looking to do specifically mental health prompts because I think it's comforting to read things like that 🤷🏻‍♀️

Summary: Read the request. I'm so proud to have followed it because I was wanting to make it angsty and I stopped myself.

Notes: This is a 4+1 thing.

Masterlist

Gift Giving

Affection had never been something she got much of. It's something her parents struggled with to the point that it seemed like they were always distant. Both with each other and her.

She is affection starved. It's a fact Lando knew about before they even started dating.

He knew it was going to be difficult to warm her up to it at first. He just needs to find her love language and use that to his advantage.

First on the list: gifts.

Lando, in all honesty, does not think this is her favorite thing. He's seen her at Christmas almost die at the thought of people spending money on her.

But he has money, and he wants to use it on her.

He starts out small with things she needs and doesn't make a big deal out of it. She mentions a snack she's craving, and he has it for her the next day. If she complains all her socks are starting to get holes in them, there are new socks in her drawer the next morning.

He keeps it small, and she appreciates it.

Acts of service

Lando isn't expecting her reaction to this one to be so overwhelming. He purposely makes it a point to do small things like clean up around the house and check of tasks on her to-do list.

She doesn't know how to act at first. It's like she's a robot with no programming or direction. Eventually she warms up to the idea and she learns she can just thank him, be grateful, and move on with the day.

It takes a while to get there, and he has to remind her several times that she doesn't need to try and do everything on her own.

Plus, Lando finds it nice doing mundane tasks when his world is so chaotic and crazy most the time.

Quality time

This one is something they both do on the regular anyways. It's one of Lando's major love languages. He himself needs quality time. The difference here is that Lando makes it a point to do her favorite things that she struggles asking him to do with her.

He takes her to see movies she's been talking about for months. They go to the concerts of her favorite bands that maybe he doesn't like as much. He plays her favorite games with her that he sucks at and watches her smile when she wins.

In a way, it's like watching a child get to do all the things she never got to. Always too busy trying to take care of herself growing up. It's one of his favorite things to see.

Her childish smile makes him fall deeper every time.

Physical touch

Everyone knows Lando is clingy. Every moment of everyday he is touching somebody. Not in a weird way, mind you. Simply hugging, holding, cuddling, shoulder patting, anything that keeps him in close proximity to the people he cares about.

It was something she wasn't used to at first. His touch starved human had no idea how to reciprocate his endless bouts of physical needs.

She caught on quick. A fast study. Now she may even be as clingy as him.

People are so disgusted by their constant public displays of affection. It's a never ending well of tight hugs and stolen kisses.

If she goes to him for affection, he never turns her away. It doesn't matter what he's doing. He could be streaming, and he will not hesitate to either turn it off or if she's comfortable will let her cuddle him while he's gaming.

Words of affirmation

This is the one that got her. He wasn't expecting her to be so shocked when he said he was proud of her for eating three meals that day. Or stutter and blush when he said she's the most gorgeous person he has ever placed eyes on.

He makes it a point to remind himself to say things like that to her. Even the littles compliments.

Sometimes she cries and tries to tell him he's wrong. How he's the only one who has ever said such things about her. Oh, how he wishes he could go back and meet her sooner and tell her all the things she deserves too here.

He is constantly showering her in compliments and reassurance. He reminds her she is worthy of praise and affection. She cries about it sometimes and he just holds her and tells her that she's worthy.

He does it daily and as often as he can. He would start every sentence about her with a compliment if he could.

Her parents may not have given her the affection she deserves. But he will, and he'll make sure she gets all the affection he can give because she deserves it.

[dragonsholygrail]

So, today was my birthday, and I can't help but feel monsters REALLY know how to celebrate birthdays. Especially a human's!

Oh my gosh, happy (belated?) birthday!!!

I do think I would have to disagree with you though. I feel like birthdays would be another one of those cultural differences between humans and monsters that would be a funny incident when revealed. But a Monster would definitely try their hardest to give you the best birthday possible when they find out!

Imagine your Monster bf has been going over and planning your birthday in secret for months. He has everything planned out and he really wanted to go the full nine yards given that it’s your first birthday together as a couple.

But you just so happen to stumble upon him at the table, not knowing what he’s up to. And your eyes widen as you see what he has written down.

“Pin the eel in the eagles mouth. What do you need all that for?” You ask, brows furrowing in concern for the state of your bf’s mind.

Your bf whips around and scrambles to cover up all the paper and research he has scattered across the table. His monstrous form makes that quite an easy task. But he still looks adorably flustered anyway.

“Hey, you weren’t supposed to see any of that!”

You only grow more confused. With the look on your face your words finally start to sink in. Which has your bf becoming just as confused as you are.

“But, uh, what’s wrong? Are eels and eagles not common in your human cele— lives? Your human lives,” your bf asks, trying to appear as calm and casual as possible.

And he fails at it spectacularly. You wince and shake your head at him, wondering what’s going on with him.

“No, love, that sounds terrifying.”

Your bf’s face drops and luckily you at least manage to catch that very obvious signal he accidentally sends you. A frown pulls at your lips until realization dawns on you and you immediately begin cooing at him.

“Aw, baby, are you planning me a birthday party?”

He melts into you, his arms wrapping around you and clinging onto you. Turning into a huge baby at the first sight of your affection. You try to swallow down your laughter as he pouts and nuzzles in your neck.

“Well I’m apparently planning the worst human birthday party ever.” You try and comfort him as best you can.

“Don’t say that. Whatever you planned is going to be amazing because it’s coming from you,” you assure him gently.

But as you leave to head off back to what you were doing, your bf only grows determined to give you the best birthday party in the history of birthday parties.

For the next few weeks he does a ton of research. Looking up the best birthday traditions that humans have had, looking across all generations and cultures. And when he thinks about it, he decides to add in some monster traditions as well. Because you love him with all your heart for exactly who he is so he wants to share this aspect of his life with you too. But he makes sure to only include the humanly-safe ones.

He puts his whole heart and soul into planning it and when your birthday finally comes around, it all turns out even better than expected. You’ve never felt so loved and cherished before and you love getting to experience so many wonderful traditions with the monster who means the most to you.

All in all it would be a lovely day where he makes sure to shower you in endless love.

[lovesick-feelings]

UPDATE: This is just a repost for the tags. The original reblog will be kept up! Original AU made by @soleilxe please go check out their blog they are a genius (๑♡ ⌓♡๑)

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I had to get this one out in case the DLC mysteriously dropped out of nowhere! (ʘᗩʘ’)

I absolutely love this AU so much! I am telling you rn that when I first read this I couldn't stop thinking about it and i was so sad that it was never expanded! So I ended up drawing a small comic (this is like my first time doing something like this so sorry if its messy! ) and that was supposed to be it but I ended up writing a short fic as well (⌒_⌒;) Btw this is just my spin on things so sorry if I made any errors!

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"Irreparable," the company claimed. It made no sense to Sun and Moon. From what they know the incident occurred the night an unexpected visitor came by. On the morning management came in, they were met with their main star missing, busted animatronics, and a disheveled mall. To think that the boy they met that fateful night caused all this was… strange, to say the least. At least they were perfectly fine! Yeah, they had a bit of trouble avoiding the flames resulting in slight damage but they were working! With a few repairs and replacements, everything would be right as rain! However, that didn't stop Fazbear Mall from permanently shutting its doors. 

Even after conversations they overheard between co-workers, workers leaving as soon as they arrived with salvaged valuables, and the final click of the lock shutting the doors permanently, Sun was in denial. 

"They'll come back for us! We'll just have to wait till then!" Although Moon was still troubled by the events that night, he still held onto hope.

"Yes, yes you're right. In the meantime, we should clean up~" 

"That's the spirit!" Sun cheered.

The first few months played out like this: waiting and cleaning up whatever they could in anticipation that the company or someone would return. However, those beliefs slowly slipped away with each passing month. Sun tried so hard to keep them distracted from their situation but it’s difficult when you wake up in the same hell every day. Nowadays when he tries to comfort Moon every word comes out unsteady. If only he could make them more believable.

Moon couldn't handle it. It was all his fault. If he'd just fought back none of this would have happened. But how could you fight against something you didn’t know was coming? The night he became corrupted haunted him endlessly. It didn’t help that they also became more beat-up after several failed escapes he made. Though he was grateful for his brother's support, it felt more like lies and empty promises as time passed. Failure after failure, shame, and guilt built up. It was always at his lowest when he felt the same corrupt urges he had that fateful night back.  

"SHUT IT! JUST SHUT IT! IT'S THE SAME THING EVERY SINGLE DAY! NO ONE IS COMING FOR US!!" 

"...sorry" Sun whimpered. 

It was always too late by the time he snapped back to his senses. It was like he was stuck in an endless loop of mistakes. All he could do was apologize and blame himself again.

With no business and no people to tend to days have been spent pacing and cleaning the decrepit daycare. Today was no different. Sun wiped his hands in the desk cabinet causing thick layers of dust to fly in every direction. Every item out of place has already been put back in its original spot long ago. All there was left was the tedious task of wiping away dust.

Moon never understood why he was so keen on getting into the smallest crevices. He couldn’t deny he had his fastidious tendencies but Sun always went above him. He always claimed it was a good way to pass time but Moon knew better. Even with the new body allowing both of them to be present at once Sun still was never the biggest fan of shutting down for long periods. Normally, Moon would push him into resting but Sun seemed to be in a better mood today and he didn't want to disturb him.

The crash of crumbling rubble made them jump from their spot. It was loud enough to hear across the daycare. Their eyes were drawn to the ceiling and they noticed a huge hole. Sun frowned. Was the building finally caving down?

"Must've been a rat"

"whAT?-" Sun choked out.

"What do you mean by a rat? A rat does not cause a hole in the ceiling to collapse!" Moon's only response was a shrug. From where they were it looked like it was around the ball pit area.

"Let’s check it to see-"

"NO"

"WhaT WHy?" Sun’s voice glitched from surprise. He didn’t expect such a sudden response.

"Because it's most likely nothing. The building is just deteriorating again…" He stated plain and simple.

"Well yes but-” Sun paused for a moment, “B-but we may as well check to make sure nothing is wrong!" Moon didn't respond. It’s going to be nothing again and he really wasn’t up for disappointment. Knowing Sun, they were bound to end up there regardless.

"Okay," he grumbled. Moon could feel Sun slightly bounce up. He sighed as they walked around the desk and towards the ball pit. As they continue their journey, Sun can sense Moon slowing down.

"Moon, what's wrong?-"

"Shhh listen" Sun paused. He didn't know what he was trying to listen to but he did so anyway. There was something in the distance. Were those… footsteps? The bots trudged closer to the sound quietly. For the first time in ages, their sensors picked up someone.

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"Dammit..."

This was your fifth time wiping your clothes off debris. You knew buildings like this had weak floors but you didn't expect it to give in that easily! You would say you’ve been through worse but you’ve never been through something like this. You’re honestly not sure if watching Youtube videos of failed urban exploring counts as an experience. 

This was supposed to be your biggest project yet. Entering the abandoned Pizzaplex had been done before but nobody had ever explored past the ground floor. You had one goal: Record as much exploration as your camera storage will allow, upload all footage to your channel, and satisfy the hungry viewers with the possibility of getting that sweet YouTube money. What you hadn’t anticipated was falling through the floor and being trapped in one of the areas 30 minutes into your exploration. Now you have to find a way out.

 You looked back at the ball pit and shuddered, thinking of what might have happened if it hadn't stopped your fall. Walking over the chipped rainbow bridge you pulled out your flashlight and observed what was in front of you. You had to admit the place didn’t age as badly as you thought! It has its flaws from the fire but you were surprised by how much stuff still survived.

The bright cheery colors that once painted this daycare have dulled to darker hues. Somehow the kid's chairs were neatly pushed into the tables and toy barrels were still stacked on top of each other. You looked over the massive play structure. They were still standing strong and tall beside some large dark spots in some areas which you assumed was also caused by the fire. A few of the giant mascot cutouts were hanging on the sides while others that had fallen were carefully propped up against the walls. When you shined your light on one of the aisles, the light didn't reach much distance.

"Geez this place is huge..."

You took a few steps before hearing a scuffle. For a second, you assumed it was some small animal. At least that's what you hoped it was. You were about to turn back when you heard it again. You whipped your flashlight in the sound’s direction.

"Hello!?" You kinda cringed at how hoarse your voice came out. You darted your flashlight for a bit until you caught it. You froze. How long was it standing there? You pointed your light at the animatronic.

Even from a distance, you could tell how huge the animatronic were. A split separated the two sides, which gave the appearance of two heads. Among them, one half had dark yellow skin and a crown that resembled rays from the sun, while the other half had darker blue skin with a nightcap resembling a moon. Each had two pairs of arms. Their clothes or at least what remained of them were tattered. Parts of their endoskeleton are exposed most noticeably on their face. Their glowing eyes pierced your soul. What felt like hours of silence were finally broken when their soft chuckles turned into hysterical laughter.

"NEW FRIEND!!"

"NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! NOPE!" You bolted in the opposite direction of the playground. As you ran you tried dodging as much debris as you could without falling over. As you approached the wall you could see large wooden doors. That's the exit! You weren't able to slow down your speed in time causing you to slam your arm against the door. Thanks to your adrenaline pumping you couldn't feel a thing. You tried pulling open the door only to hear clicking noises. IT’S FUCKING LOCKED!!!

“New friend!”

“New friend~”

“New friend!”

Their calls were growing closer.

You looked around until you crawled into one of the kiddie slides. You climbed your way up, lying flat on your stomach. You were pretty high up. There was no way they could see you as long as you didn't lean against the bars. The metal grating grows louder as the robot approaches where you once stood.

"N-new friend please cOME BaCK!!" He wailed in distress like a mother trying to find her lost infant.

“Shhh you’re going to scare them~” You gritted your teeth. Yeah, like they hadn’t scared you to death already. Unlike the other voice, this one was hushed and calm. As if it was a situation he knew all too well. The other voice gasped and quietly apologized. 

"Where are you, new friend?~" There was intense silence. They let out what sounded like a disgruntled sigh before the scraping faded away. Once you were sure they were gone you took a breath of relief. You didn't realize you were holding your breath the whole time. Your heartbeat was so loud you were afraid they would hear it. 'What even was that…?' You tried to recollect your thoughts. Everything happened so fast that you couldn't comprehend what was happening. When you tried thinking back about what happened all your mind could replay was the moment you stared into their ghostly irises.

'Okay, that's enough…’ You sat up. Another deep breath calmed your heart. There has to be another way out of here. You peer through the cage. From your vantage point, you couldn’t get much. There were only two things you could see from where you were: the front desk and the children's pit in front of it. You had to get a better view but how? You sure as hell wasn’t about to sneak down again. You looked towards the bridge connecting the two playgrounds. Despite its aging, it still looked sturdy enough to cross. Maybe this was your chance? You didn’t want to risk getting caught but you also didn’t want to die either. Well, there's only one way to find out… 

A small knock made you recoil back. You turned your head to the slide you came from. No. There’s no way they could get in here. With how big and clunky the animatronic look, they’d probably fall apart the moment you hit them. 

Upon getting up, you were met with jelly legs. You're gonna have to crawl this one out. You navigated carefully through the colorful maze. The number of dead ends you ran into got ridiculous. Sometimes you felt like you were crawling in circles until you finally found it. You silently cheered for yourself. The bridge was only a turn away!

Something wrapped around your ankle before you took another step. Your head spins to see several pairs of hands gripping your ankle. You couldn't scream before those hands brutally dragged your body down the slide. The suddenness of it all caused your head to bang against a turn. You hit the floor with a loud thud holding your head. All you could do was lay limp on the foam flooring. What even happened? You could feel your head throbbing from the pain. A giant shadow loomed over your figure. Rough, metal arms wrap themselves around you in a cold embrace. 

“Found you, friend, ~” The two laughed together making a strange combination of a cackle and a giggle. You wish you could fight back but you feel so nauseous and weak. All you could do was stand there awkwardly as you got crushed. Dread overwhelms your body.

“We were so worried about you, friend! You shouldn’t run away like that! I-I mean what if you got lost or h-URT!?” Their grasp on you was tightened as he spoke. The voice coming from what you assumed was the sun’s side made you tense up. His voice made your ears start ringing. Was he always this panicky?

���Now, now there’s no need for that anymore.” His hand cupped your cheek tilting it so you could face them.

“It won’t happen again~” The drop in his voice made it sound like a death threat.

“Besides-" He resumed back to himself.

"Think of all the fun we'll have together~!” Sun’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh, you’re right! We have so many activities we could do now that we’re together!” They easily pull you up and swing your body around. 

“We’ll have soooooo much fun~!” Moon chuckled

“We could play charades!” 

“And tell stories~!” 

“Oh oh, we could finger paint too! I haven’t done that in so long!!” The two exchanged enthusiastic opinions about everything they planned. 

You honestly felt like you would puke. It was too loud. Your head was throbbed and your whole body was aching. Everything felt so overwhelming. You didn’t care about exploring anymore, you just wanted to go back to the comfort of your home. You tried holding back the tears brimming in your eyes. The robots tensed when they heard soft hiccups. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks. Your body was lowered, bringing you closer together. Moon’s eyes widened while Sun’s eyelids drooped when they realized you were crying. 

“Friend, what's wrong?” Your cry turned into a full-blown sob. Sun and Moon quickly sat down. Laying you on their lap, they gently rocked you back and forth with their arms propping you up. Your sobbing could be heard throughout the whole daycare all the while Sun and Moon tried calming you down. They rubbed circles around your back whispering reassurances. 

“It’s alright~” 

“You’re safe now!”

“There’s no need to cry~” Their hands whipped your tears away. Your body becomes less tense.

“Did we do this?” You opened your eyes realizing they were looking at your head. Their concern was evident. You flinched when their fingers grazed the area you hit.

“Oh sorry! I-I-I didn't meAn tO do THat! WE-”

“Sun.” Moon interrupted

“We can fix this. As long as we follow instructed procedures they will be fine~”

“Oh right right! Sorry about that, friend” You could feel their fingers tenderly stroking your hair. They cradled your body while whispering soothing words.

You could’ve easily pushed them away and made a run for them, but you didn’t have the motivation to do so. You were beyond tired to fight back. It was getting harder to hold up heavy eyelids and the animatronic also seemed to realize this.

“Shhh rest~ You will feel better after a good sleep~” You had to admit their voice was comforting. This couldn’t be so bad right? They seemed nice enough. So it was okay to shut your eyes for a bit. You lifted your eyes one more time to see theirs. If only you were more awake you would’ve caught their lovesickness plastered on their faces gazing at you. Maybe then you’d realized sooner the situation you were now trapped in. You felt two soft taps on your forehead, mocking a kiss before slipping into darkness.

“Goodnight, Starlight~”

“Goodnight, Sunshine!”

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