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https-florals · 1 year

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thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me - j.m.

summary: if there was a contest for the world’s stupidest teenagers, you and jj would take first place.

word count: 3.1k??? i got a little carried away

warnings: a little language.

a/n: childhood best friends to lovers, a little argument, tiniest bit of angst. WHOLEEE lotta fluff. reading it back, im starting to wonder if it really flows together or if it even makes sense, but i think its cute and i liked writing it!! as always, likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. i adore you all!!

“Can I crash at your place tonight?” JJ blurts out the question, almost like he’s scared of the answer.

The two of you are headed away from a long day of surfing, your hair tangled and a little crunchy from the saltwater. You probably would have stayed out later, if it weren’t for how nasty the waves were getting. JJ had gotten pushed under and scraped against a reef, and you had slipped and landed facefirst into the side of your board, both of your accidents resulting in some pretty nasty cuts. Some old 2000s playlist is playing through the aux, and you’re driving while JJ holds a can of beer to your busted lip.

“Or..” he swallows. “Maybe until your parents get back? They’re outta town for like another three days, right?

You give him a sidelong glance and push the can away, your lip numb from the coldness. JJ isn’t the type to ask favors, so you’re a little taken aback. You don’t ask questions though; you just nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.” You pause, and then grin, saying, “You scared my daddy would run you off with a shotgun if he was home?”

He huffs and shoves the corner of a towel into your face. “Your lip’s bleeding again, dumbass. And no. He just scares me a little.”

Swatting him away and laughing, you go back to the subject of him staying at your house. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can stay as long as you need. Plus, that gives me a chance to make sure you don’t let those cuts get infected.” You gesture to the raw skin on his torso.

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” he scoffs, but the way he runs his hand over his side and winces isn’t lost on you.

By the time you pull into your driveway, it’s started to rain. Beams from the sunset hit the droplets just perfectly, and a rainbow stretches over the cut. It’s so pretty, and if your neck wasn’t so sore and if JJ wasn’t so cut up you would’ve taken the opportunity to pull him out in the rain and force him to dance with you. But he is trying to pick up the cooler and the towels and take it all inside himself, so you run around to the trunk and nudge him away. “Stop! Just grab the towels, you’re too bruised up to lift that.” Wedging yourself between him and the trunk, you set the cooler down on the gravel.

“C’mon,” he sighs, saying your name entreatingly. “No bruise is gonna mess with these.” JJ flexes and grins, and you glare at him.

“Never do that again. If you want to keep me as a friend, you will never flex in front of me again.” You’re only half-joking.

He fake-yawns and stretches, making sure to flex again when you look back up at him. “I know, you can’t even stand to be around a sex god like me.”

You look at him, jaw dropped in faux horror, and shake your head. “That’s it. Maybank, you can go stay at the Chateau.”

“I’ll tell John B you just couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he teases, leaning against you and making kissy noises into your ear.

You are giggling between fake gags, pushing him away gently. “Get your shit and go inside, freak,” you laugh as you tug the cooler into the garage.

Kicking your sandals off by the door,you grab some antibacterial soap, and then check under the sink for peroxide and bandages.

When JJ comes inside, you’re diluting a little cup of the peroxide with water. Pushing that and the soap towards him, you say, “Go shower and flush the cuts out with that-” you tap the cup- “then scrub with the soap. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch, but it’ll get worse if it gets infected.”

He frowns, and takes them. “Okay, nurse.”

You both take fast showers, and soon the two of you are back in the living room. You’re wearing borrowed boxers and a big tshirt, and JJ has on the clothes he left last time he came over. Your mother always insists on doing your friends’ laundry, and thank God she does.

“Sit on the couch,” you instruct JJ, pouring some antiseptic onto cotton pads.

“I can do it myself,” he huffs, but he doesn’t make any more complaints when you climb over him and straddle one of his legs. In fact, he’s staring at you with a kind of awe in his expression.

“Lift your shirt up,” you command, looking at him with a stony expression.

He rolls his eyes, but obeys, hands a little shaky as he pulls up the fabric and you begin to clean the wound.

JJ hisses at the stinging, his muscles contracting and shifting under your fingertips.

You shush him and readjust so you’re sitting a little higher on his thigh rather than his knee. “Breathe, JJ.” Mentally, you’re telling yourself to breathe too. You’re just helping your best friend. Your heart shouldn’t be racing like it is.

One of his hands balls into a fist, and the other lands on your waist, grasping the worn fabric of your tee. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his lips are parted as he tilts his head back and groans.

You’re shameless in the way you’re staring at him. Maybe you shouldn’t find him in pain so very attractive, but- you’re just observing. You’re not even paying attention to what you're doing anymore as you wipe the cotton haphazardly over his cuts; you just watch the way his jaw tenses and relaxes. He opens one eye, and you jump slightly, heat infusing into your cheeks.

“Distracted?” he teases.

You scoff in response, bandaging up his cuts and climbing off of him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

JJ doesn’t press it any further; he just smirks and leans back onto the couch.

It’s getting late, the cloudy sky turning deep, dusky amber with the setting sun. It’s still raining, harder now, and JJ has the weatherman on TV as you throw together a quick dinner. It’s a three course meal of pizza pockets, some sliced up cucumber and ranch, and a pack of oreos split between the two of you. After some bickering, you settle on a movie to watch together. It’s some old rom-com JJ is obsessed with it, and you have never even heard of it.

You’re still whining through the first twenty minutes; saying, “A Christmas movie? It’s not even Christmas!”

He shushes you, putting his arm around your shoulders and giving you a playful thump on the head. “It’s got John Cusack in it. Everybody loves John Cusack.”

Sure enough, by the end of Serendipity, you decide you love John Cusack. “I feel a little bad for his fiancée,” you yawn, slumped against the blond boy beside you. There’s no point where you aren’t touching: shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. “I still don’t understand why he’d just leave her.”

You do understand actually, but you would listen to JJ explain the plot a thousand times if it meant you could stay this close. His hand is on your shoulder, fingers playing with the collar of your t-shirt as he talks about fate. It’s a little poetic, in fact, it’s the most serious you’ve heard him in a while.

“The whole idea about having someone destined for you is just really beautiful, you know. Like someone out there is supposed to love you no matter what. Like, the universe doesn’t give a shit about what you’ve done or where you come from. It’s just in total agreement that you deserve to be loved.”

You’re resting your head on his bicep, watching his expressions as he talks. His blue eyes are like lights across the water, his mouth serious.

“That just seems so… I dunno, fair. Like that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“J, you know that the universe doesn’t have a say in whether or not you’re worthy of love, right?”

He’s a bit caught off guard, looking you in the eyes now. “What?”

You adjust so you're facing him, legs criss-crossed on the couch. Hands in your lap, you wring your fingers as you begin to speak. “I just want to make sure that you know you…” you pause, and breathe. “You’re worthy of love, JJ. Destiny doesn’t determine that.”

His gaze softens for a split second, and he unconsciously rubs his side, the one bruised. But, then the mask is back up quicker than you can snap. He scoffs, moving his arm away from where you're leaning against it. “I know that. None of the Pogues are getting more love than me,” he smirks, but its a little half-hearted.

“I’m serious, JJ. I’’n not talking about fucking around,” you sigh.

He says your name a little rough, a little annoyed. A plea for you to stop. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have with you. Especially not right now. “Don’t start with the mushy shit,” he coaxes, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

You stand up, your temper a little hotter. “It’s not mushy shit! It’s the truth, and I’m not gonna sit here while you feel sorry for yourself, acting like you don’t deserve every single good thing.”

“I’m not acting sorry for myself!”

You’re on a roll now, and JJ can’t stop you now. “You so are! You won’t let anyone get close, cause you’re so scared that they’re gonna hurt you.”

He stands up quick, almost knocking you back. You stare up at him, his face a mere handbreadth away, but you don’t back down. “I’m not gonna bet on a race that I know I’m gonna lose,” he says, voice low.

“Love isn’t- it’s not- you can’t win if you’re more afraid of losing!” You’re not even sure if you’re making sense at this point. You don’t really know what sparked this little flame in you. Maybe it’s your PMS, or maybe it’s the rain making you antsy.. Maybe it’s the years or worrying, all the times he has done something reckless and stupid and kept you and your friends up all night. Maybe it’s the blatant disregard for his own wellbeing, or the way he ignores your questions about new cuts or bruises. Now, everything is spilling out, in words, in tears. “You never even give it the chance!”

“It’s just not in the cards for me, okay?”

You start to hit his chest, but he grabs your wrists and holds you steady. “It’s just how it is, and I’m okay with that,” he says, trying to infuse a brightness into his voice.

You snatch your wrists away, and yank your blanket up off the couch. “I don’t know if you’re- I don’t know, blind or just plain fucking stupid.”

His eyebrows furrow as you walk away from him. “What?”

“I’m going to bed.”

He says your name quick and a little strained, but you don’t turn to look at him. You disappear down the hallway, leaving JJ to slump on the couch, alone.

It takes no more than twenty minutes for the blond to come slinking into your bedroom. JJ whispers your name as he cracks open the door, but you don’t answer. He can't tell if you’re really asleep yet, so he just slides under the covers next to you, like he used to when you were kids. You still have the same full bed, and your sheets still smell like salt water and coconut shampoo. When your breath hitches as his hand comes to rest right by your back, he knows that you’re awake.

“Do you really think I’m stupid?”

“Yeah.” You don’t move, voice muffled against your pillow.

JJ lays parallel to you, almost painfully close, but not touching. “Come on, talk to me.”

You huff and roll over to face him. “Why aren’t you sleeping on the couch?”

“It’s scary as hell out there alone. Y’all got too many windows.”

Just like that, any animosity dissipates. “You’re supposed to be the man, JJ. S’posed to protect me.” You’re clutching a stuffed animal to your chest, and you push it into JJ’s. It’s an old battered dolphin pillow pet, and his hands close instinctively around it. It’s sat on your bed since fourth grade, and the stuffing isn’t as fluffy as it used to be. He remembers when you first got it. “Mr. Melon’s feeling a little flat,” he comments.

You nod, but are silent, watching the tendons in his hands and the bones of his knuckles. In fact, you’re a little shocked that he remembers the stuffed animal’s name.

“Remember when we used to have sleepovers like, every night?” JJ asks, a little laughter in his voice. “I never understood why your mom was so happy to have me over on school nights.”

There’s a twinge in your chest. You understood. Even during the worst of you and JJ’s childhood arguments, your mom would coax you to invite him over, and she’d patch up his cuts and wash the dirt and blood stains out of his clothes.

“I miss our sleepovers,” you sigh. The two of you have scooted closer together subconsciously, the only barrier being Mr. Melon.

JJ nods, and asks, “Why’d we ever stop?”

You smile. “We got old, J.”

He sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry.”Who cares? We’re old now, and look at us. Having the time of our lives. We could be ninety and still be the funnest people in the OBX.”

“Most fun,” you correct with a grin.

“Hey, y’know I have a shitty English grade,” he answers, playfully punching your upper arm.

“My mom was scared I’d fall in love with you,” you comment, a little off-subject with a shaky smile plastered across your face. “She always said I’d fall head over heels, and that you’d be the biggest heartbreaker in the county.”

JJ’s face gets serious quick, faux solemnity all in his eyes. “A real concern,” he says, deadpan, “For mothers everywhere.”

“She was right about you being a heartbreaker! Remember that poor touron from the other weekend?”

He scowls and shakes his head. “I made it very clear that it was a one night type of thing.”

It makes you think of your argument from less than a hour ago. If love was in the cards for any of the Pogues, it had to be JJ. Girls tripped over themselves just so he would notice them. But, you laugh, shove him in the arm, and switch the subject. “Remember when you fought John B in here and broke my lamp?”

“Wasn’t that like, what, fifth grade?”

“Yeah. It was my favorite fairy lamp, and you bumped into it and her head broke off!”

You're both giggling, the tiredness setting in. “He called you a bitch! That was a big bad word back then,” JJ laughs, blond hair tangled and messy as it falls across his pillow.

Your eyebrows quirk up. “You call me a bitch all the time now.”

“That’s different,” he waves his hand to cut you off. “But then? I couldn't let him mess with my girl.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you kick yourself mentally for being so damn cliche when you feel it.

The two of you keep exchanging stories, thunder rolling and the lightning lighting up your room every few minutes.

“So, old-fashioned slumber party with the whole gang tomorrow night?” JJ proposes, his goodnight, his eyes barely open.

You nod and smile, then you do your best Pogue handshake the two of you can manage while lying on your sides.

Your eyes drift close, and after a few minutes of silence filled with JJ’s breathing and the sound of your heart, you say, “My mom was right about another thing.” JJ takes a moment to process, cracking his eyes back open to look at you. Yours are still squeezed shut because you're scared to look at him. “About me falling in love with you. It was inevitable.” You’re shaking, but it has to be said. You have to at least get it out there.

His mouth goes dry.

The silence is killing you, but you don’t dare look at him.

“Like destiny,” he finally says, tripping over the first word.

A warmth spreads through you, heat in your cheeks and heart. “Exactly like destiny.”

When you finally get the courage to look at him, he’s staring at you like you’ve peeled back your skin and revealed solid diamond underneath. Awestruck, maybe a little fear in that deep blue.

You can hear your own heartbeat, and your breath is shallow and short. His, in contrast, is deep and slow.

“She was wrong about one thing though.”

You wait for his answer, lips parted as you watch his gaze go from your eyes, to your lips, and back to your eyes, down to your lips again…

“I could never break your heart.”

Your cheeks heat when he traces a line from the end of your eyebrow, down your cheek and jawline. It’s a ghost of a caress, almost like you’re some holy relic that he thinks will heal him.

You start to backtrack, feeling a little embarrassed, a little scared “J, you don’t- don’t have to say something you don’t mean.”

JJ draws his hand back so fast you jump, and he sits up and scoffs. “You think I’m bullshitting you?”

Your stomach drops as the sudden shift in emotion, and you nod hesitantly.

His jaw clenches as he turns his face away from you, and when he looks back at you his lips are pressed into a firm line. You’ve seen this expression only a couple of times, and only when JJ is on the brink of tears. In fact, his eyes seem a little glassy when he starts to speak. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” he snaps.

“J-”

JJ waves his hand to cut you off. “No. It’s my turn to talk.” His voice does that thing where it gets a little higher, stress peeking through the cracks in his pitch. “Y’know how you called me blind earlier? You’re the blindest person ever! Everybody else sees the way I look at you except you!” he cries. His hands push anxiously through his hair. “It’s been you. Always you. As long as I can remember.” The way he’s looking at you practically sets you on fire. You can see it now. All those years of childhood crushes, pining and overthinking are evident in his eyes, like a storm at sea. “You-” his voice breaks fully now, and he covers his mouth with his fist before breathing and continuing. “You were the first person who made me feel like I was someone. Like, loved. You really made me feel loved.”

“Always have, always will,” you blurt out.

That’s when the dam bursts, and JJ begins to cry. You sit up and throw your arms around him, and his hands grasp your shirt like you’re a lifeline. He’s murmuring your name like a prayer, over and over like he’s trying to do penance. Before you can even begin to console him, he kisses you quick and soft.

“Is that okay?” It’s so sweet, a side of JJ you hadn’t seen since you were little kids. Since before you had burdens and before the world got scary.

“More than okay,” you whisper back, utterly melting against him. When he kisses you again, you can feel him smile, and feel the dampness from his eyes on your cheeks.

JJ can’t believe that you’re kissing him back, and he wonders if he’s dreaming. When your hands shift into his hair, he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. It has to be fake.

Almost like you can read his mind, you pull back. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you assure.

His smile is so wide, you think it’ll get stuck like that. “You’re gonna have me around forever,” he says. “That’s a promise.”

“It better be, Maybank. I kinda like you.” You cuddle up against him, head on his chest, grinning profusely.

“I guess I really do have to tell John B you couldn’t keep your hands off me,” he jokes.

“Shush! You’re gonna ruin the moment!”

#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj obx fic #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut

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princekeerys · 29 days

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i had this idea pop into my head a couple nights ago and i finally put it into words! hope u all enjoy <33

wc 662

☾. °. ࿐ ` , •

yet another meeting.

charlie had gathered everyone in the hotel’s lounge area for a rundown of new team building exercises that she wanted to explain to everyone. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested in helping out, you were.

it was just the fact that the couch cushions you were currently sat on were providing the utmost comfort and it also wasn’t helping that you were trying not to nod off in between sentences — you swear you closed your eyes at “trust fall exercises” and opened them back up at “writing out your feelings is also important”

and then there was the red radio demon you were sat beside.

alastor.

everyone feared his presence, wouldn’t dare to even look in his direction. but the way he was with everyone else, he wasn’t the same way towards you. you didn’t know how to describe it; sitting beside him right now, you felt a sort of… warmth. and of course with that usual smile he has plastered on his face, you don’t know which emotion he’s feeling.

but it doesn’t make you wanna run away and hide. instead, you feel contentment. you feel safe next to him, even though you know that he could have you dead in cold blood within seconds.

and this is perhaps the fifth time he’s watched you, out of the corners of his eyes, nod off for what seems like five seconds, only to almost jolt awake again in what seems like… panic? oh you poor little thing.

“you know, cher” he’s not even focused on charlie’s tangent anymore, instead on you, the tired little doe that can barely keep her eyes open. he still keeps his eyes trained forward. “if you’re feeling so out of sorts, i could provide you with a tad bit more comfort, if you truly desired” his voice is a low whisper, careful not to disturb the other hotel stayers as he’d rather not bring attention to the fact that he maybe cares about someone. how preposterous.

you look up at alastor through your tired eyes. he has one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on his kneecap — you think he looks so handsome sitting this close to you. he meets your gaze with a turn of his head, careful not to cause such a commotion as he glances between you and his shoulder.

oh?

it’s a very sweet gesture. especially coming from the radio demon himself because you know he hates when people invade his privacy. and even though you’ve always wondered what it’s like to fully be in his touch…

you’re scared, shy, all of the above.

and you think the dust of pink on your cheeks gives it all away.

“no need to get so bashful on me, sweetheart, it’s just a simple gesture. besides i can’t have a belle like you being exhausted all day, now can i, hm?”

alastor trains his focus back towards charlie as you shyly take his offer, slowly laying your head down on his suit-clad shoulder and it’s… very cozy, you decide. the small amount of contact feels very serene as you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. and god forbid anyone looks in your direction, otherwise you probably wouldn’t hear the end of it. especially angel dust who’s been bugging you about your little crush on the radio demon.

you decide to go a bit further and link your arm around his, only for a bit more warmth your mind declares is the perfect excuse while your heart fluttering in your tummy, watching for any disapproval alastor has. but he shows none. it’s the greatest feeling in the world to be this close to him. you shouldn’t get used to this… but god, do you want to, so bad.

“you gonna put me to bed too after this?” you whisper jokingly in alastor’s ear, seeing his ear twitch just the slightest. how can an overlord be this adorable?

“don’t push your luck, cher”

please reblog/comment if you enjoyed my work, it’s greatly appreciated ♡

#❥ lexi’s daydreams #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #alastor imagine #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff

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verstappen-cult · 17 days

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WAVE OF YOU, C. LECLERC.

PROLOGUE — NEXT CHAPTER. [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

PAIRING. charles leclerc x female reader.

CHAPTER ONE SUMMARY — It looks like any other shift at the coffee shop until the presence of a brown haired boy with dimples changes everything. The same boy you meet at the beach several days ago — the one who stood you up.

CONTENT WARNINGS. female reader, use of Y/N, alcohol use, fluff & friends being a menace.

GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. OH MY GOD! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i was in the worst writers block of all times and couldn't get out of it :( but i forced myself to finish this today and ta-dah! i really hope you like it, your comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. remember that if you want to be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box!

“Come on, girl! We can’t be late today.” You groan in frustration, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watch Daisy shake the sand out of her fur. She sits and looks up at you with her tongue out, head slightly tilted to the side. “Good girl.” You say, giving her one of her favorite dog treats. You put the collar on her and she happily starts walking by your side.

It’s a short walk, around ten minutes, from the beach to the coffee shop you started working at just two months ago. You like it so much that you probably spend more time there than in your own apartment. It’s cozy and family owned, and there is always a pleasant atmosphere even though there are always people coming in and out, one of the perks of having the shop so close to the beach.

And everyone loves Daisy too, so you’re allowed to bring her with you. While you work behind the counter, she chills by the door in her bed with her favorite bunny plushie. She brings joy and bright smiles to every single person that visits the coffee shop.

You can’t believe this is your life.

It wasn’t easy at first but making the decision to drop out of school and travel around the world wasn’t as difficult as breaking the news to your parents. And after everything you went through in these two years you deserve the good things and peace that is coming your way.

It was all worth it, missing your family, waking up in the middle of the night wondering if you made the right decision, the good and the bad… it was all worth it. You wouldn’t change a thing because it brought you to this; to Australia and to the wonderful people you’ve met.

“Good morning, Fred.” You say to the owner of the flower shop right next door to where you work. He smiles, waving goodbye to a client, before walking out to meet you.

“Hello, sweetheart.” His smile is contagious. You like to pass by him before going to work everyday because seeing someone be so happy and positive every single day is exactly what you need. “How was the beach today?”

“I had to drag her out of there before she got into the water.” He laughs, crouching down to pet Daisy and, in return, she licks his face.

Fred laughs and stands up, grabbing a bouquet of tulips. “These are for the shop,” He says before turning around and grabbing a single sunflower. “and this for you.”

Fred is a French man in his fifties that came to Australia following the love of his life. He didn’t have a plan, he just left everything behind; they’ve been married for thirty years.

“Always so sweet, Fred.” You place a kiss on his cheek, waving goodbye with the promise to bring some coffee for him later. He watches you walk away with that same big smile on his face.

You open the door of Brew’d Awakening, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries welcoming you, as well as the bulldog resting next to the door.

“Hello to you too, Roscoe.” He huffs like telling you to hurry up. You let Daisy go and she immediately finds comfort next to Roscoe.

There aren’t many people — it is still pretty early — just a couple of regulars that like to grab their first cup of coffee before heading to work or the beach.

As you make your way to the counter, you find Kika sitting at one of the tables enjoying a cup of coffee while typing away on her laptop.

“What are you doing here so early?” You ask, plopping down on a chair next to her.

“Lewis wanted to discuss some things about the social media content,” She leans slightly to give your cheek a kiss. “and you’re meeting my boyfriend today.”

You gasp, turning to look at her with wide and surprised eyes. “What do you mean I’m meeting him?”

“I told you he’s gonna spend the summer here.”

“Yes, but I also remember you telling me that he had to go back?” Daisy nudges your leg with her nose, and you immediately know what she wants. “So, he’s back then?” Kika hums while you look for Daisy’s plushie in your bag.

“He’s coming because I left some things at his apartment.”

“So that’s why you didn’t come home last night.” She blushes, sticking her tongue out. “Whore.” Kika gasps, hitting you in the arm.

“Hello, pretty ladies.” Your co-worker, who practically lives in your apartment now, leaves an iced latte in front of you.

You take a sip of the drink, looking directly into his eyes. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you sneak out this morning.”

“What do you mean? I wasn’t there this morning.”

“Alex, I literally heard you and Lily laughing at three in the morning,” Alex groans, sitting in front of you.

“In my defense,” He points a finger at you and really tries to think of something, but comes out with nothing. “Whatever, you like me too much to kick me out.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.” You stand up when the door opens and a new customer enters.

“Good morning, kid.” Lewis gives you a pat on the back when you join him behind the counter, you kiss his cheek in return.

You spend the morning taking care of the customers while Alex and Lewis are responsible of preparing and serving the orders. It is a quiet and nice morning, like most Saturdays are, and you love it. You owe Kika everything, because if it weren’t for her you wouldn’t have found the coffee shop in the first place. She recommended you and it was all Lewis and Nico needed to hire you.

Lewis and Nico are a gay couple that, just like you, decided to settle down in Australia after traveling to different parts of the world. They opened Brew’d Awakening just five years ago but it’s going so well they have the opportunity to expand, but refuse to do it, knowing that the warmth and coziness of the Brew’d will be lost. You respect them for that.

You’re about to swap shifts with Alex when Kika shows up in front of you, a shy smile on her face.

“He’s here. I like him, okay? So, be nice.”

“I’m always nice!” You exclaim a little offended.

“I know, sorry. It’s just — I’m nervous.” She looks around before leaning closer. “He brought his friends because apparently we’re doing this ‘trade’ thing where I meet his friends and he meets mine.”

You hold your laugh, “Cute.”

“Stop making fun of me and come here or I’ll go mad.”

“I’m taking my break, is that okay?” You ask your boss, at which he nods, giving you a thumbs up.

You take off your apron as you walk around the counter. Kika is waiting for you in the middle of the shop, looking like a nervous wreck.

“I’ve never seen you so nervous before.” You place a hand on her shoulder, massaging to help her relax a little.

“Meeting the friends is a big deal.”

Well, she is right. You just didn’t realize how serious her relationship actually was until now.

Daisy wags her tail as she makes her way to you. And you immediately lean forward to scratch behind her ears.

You’re too busy to pay attention to the guy wrapping his arms around your friend and kissing her lips as a greeting. It is only when Kika clears her throat, kicking your leg to draw your attention, that you force yourself to let Daisy go.

“This is Pierre.” She says as you straighten back up. “Pierre, this is my friend Y/N.”

You look at the guy in front of you for a couple of seconds. His blue eyes are a little too familiar, but the more you try to remember from where you know him, the more you think that is probably just a coincidence.

“Oh my God, you’re Y/N!” Pierre laughs, making you and Kika frown. “This is fantastic.”

“What is fantastic?” A voice draws your attention, making you look behind Pierre.

Your heart skips a beat the second you see a pair of green eyes.

The green eyes of the surfer boy you met a few weeks ago at the beach.

Charles; who you never saw again.

It turns out that Charles wasn’t at the beach the next morning. You sat on the sand longer than necessary, thinking that maybe he was running late. But he never came. You didn’t see his friends either, so you simply picked up what was left of your dignity and walked back to your apartment with Daisy by your side.

The morning after that you decided to confront him, but he wasn’t there.

He never showed up at the beach again. And for a minute you thought it was all in your head, but that option was discarded when you bumped into the group of teenage girls sitting on the sand, wondering why the hot guys weren’t there.

At least you weren’t the only one looking for them.

You hadn’t thought about Charles in several days.

And now he’s standing in front of you with a big smile on his handsome face.

Ugh, you had forgotten the dimples.

“Y/N?” He asks, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here.” You mutter bitterly, not wanting to engage in a conversation with him.

It’s childish, you have to admit it, but why is he gonna ask to see you just to not show up? And, okay, you were going to the beach the next day either way but you got all excited for nothing. You really wanted to get to know him, maybe even ask for his number. He seemed like a nice guy and his accent made butterflies erupt in your belly. But that was before he stood you up.

Kika looks between you and Charles with a confused expression on her face. You make the mistake of making eye contact with her because the next moment she’s gasping, her eyes wide as she finally puts the pieces together.

“Charles is the boy you met at the beach?!” You want to cover her mouth with your hand but you can barely move. You love her, you really do, but right now you want her to shut up.

Even from a distance, you can see the way his blush spreads over his cheeks. Charles runs a hand through his hair. You would pay a million dollars just to tangle your fingers in it to see if it is as soft as it looks.

You’re dragged back to the present when the doors open and Charles’ friends walk inside.

“Oi look who’s here!” One of his friends says — the curly-haired one — and they wave in your direction before walking to a nearby table. Daisy recognizes them, even though they were barely a few minutes in her presence, and she walks over to them.

“Nice to meet you, Pierre.” You plaster on a smile, turning to face him and Kika. “I wish I could stay and get to know you better, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Pierre smirks, nodding along. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

You walk back to the counter without looking at Charles again. Lewis looks at you with a raised brow and you shrug, that must have been the shortest break of all times.

You’re putting on your apron in front of the cash register, a line of customers ready to order, when you see Charles joining the line and waiting for his turn.

“Is that Kika’s boyfriend?” Alex whispers next to you while making an order. You look at where they’re sitting, the same table where all of Pierre and Charles’ friends are. They’re actually cute, unable to keep their hands to themselves.

You nod, busy writing the last order. “Hi, welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you?” When you look up you’re met with Charles' blushed face, a small smile directed at you.

“Can we talk?” He looks genuinely nervous, and you feel a little guilty for making him feel that way. He’s the last one in line, so you nod. “I’m really sorry,” Charles breathes, closing his eyes. “I really wanted to be there the next morning but Pierre had to fly back to France and I couldn’t leave him alone.”

Your expression softens. He didn’t mean to stand you up then.

“We came back literally two days ago.”

You feel really bad now.

“Oh my God,” You let out a laugh, feeling embarrassed and so, so guilty. “I’m sorry. I guess I was a little hurt because I thought you stood me up — not that it was a date and we explicitly agreed to see each other.” You feel blood rushing to your face.

“I wanted to text you but I didn’t have your number,” Charles frowns, a nervous smile dancing on his lips. “and I couldn’t find you on Instagram.”

Your entire body shivers and the corners of your mouth curl up. “You really looked me up on Instagram?”

“Yea’,” He chuckles, shrugging. “I wanted—no, I want to know you. You are really pretty—cool, I mean.”

“So you don’t think I’m pretty?” You lean forward, hands resting on the counter and supporting your weight.

Charles' cheeks heat up as he tries to think of something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

You take him out of his misery by giving him a little push on the shoulder.

“I’m joking.”

Charles looks at you for a second, and then says, “You are. Pretty, I mean.”

It is your turn to blush furiously. You have to look away if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him.

“Are you gonna order or not?”

You both turn to look at the person standing behind Charles, clearly annoyed for having to wait too long. He apologizes before turning back to you.

“I’m gonna,” He points to the table where his friends are, and you nod, disappointed for being interrupted.

It’s a little awkward because he stands there for a whole minute just looking at you before waving goodbye and walking away.

The customer clears his throat and you’re dragged back to the present one more time.

You hear Alex and Lewis laughing behind you.

“Hey, we’re going to the club tonight.” Kika says as you clock out.

“Who is we?” You ask, grabbing your purse and the iced latte you made for the ride home.

“Pierre and a couple of his friends,” She takes a sip of her own matcha latte and sits on the counter. “You, Lily, Alex.” Kika pokes Alex’s ribs, who’s cleaning the counter next to her.

You chew on your bottom lip, the question is hanging from your tongue but you’re not able to voice it out. Kika must see the struggle on your face.

“Charles is coming too.” She has a knowing look on her face, but doesn’t make fun of you or ask what is going on with his boyfriend’s best friend. “So, are you coming?” She knows you’re going even before you nod your approval. “Someone left this for you.”

Kika hands you a napkin with a number written on it, a “Charles x” underneath a phone number.

Your heart starts hammering in your chest and you waste no time in pulling your phone out of your pocket to save his contact. You hesitate whether to message him or not when, suddenly, your screen lights up with a new message.

If you can’t stop smiling on the way home from the coffee shop and while you get ready for a night out, nobody (besides Kika) needs to know.

On the way to the club you think about every little moment and decision that has led you here, to this uber with your friends ready to spend a good night with new friends, and a pretty guy who’s clearly very interested in you. If someone would’ve told you two years ago that this was going to be your life, you would’ve laughed.

You feel nervous, getting out of the car and walking into one of your favorite clubs in the city.

The first thing you notice is the mass of people dancing along to the loud music. You think you’re gonna make your way to the bar as you always do the minute you walk inside but, instead, Kika guides you to where all the VIP booths are, near the back of the club and the DJ.

“Baby!” Pierre shouts over the music, drink in one hand. “And baby’s friends!”

“Oh my God, I think he’s already drunk.” Kika groans, making her way to her boyfriend and kissing his cheek before whispering something in his ear that makes Pierre blush. Okay, gross.

There are a lot of people in the booth. You recognize some of Charles’ friends and a few other people you’ve never seen before. Everyone’s talking with everyone and you’re wondering what to do when someone places a hand on your back.

“I was waiting for you.” Charles whispers with a low voice, and you feel weak in the knees immediately.

You turn around to face him and are blinded by his bright dimpled-smile.

“Hi.” You say, looking into those two green orbs you’ve missed. Just a little. “All my friends dumped me,” Looking behind Charles’ shoulder, you see Lily and Alex making out in the middle of the dancefloor, while Kika is sitting next to her boyfriend and talking with some of his friends. “so you’re stuck with me for the whole night.”

“Ugh,” Charles says, bringing his hand to his heart and pretending to be affected. “that’s horrible. Stuck with a pretty girl all night? I’ll just have to deal with it.”

You lean your shoulder into Charles’ side playfully and he moves a little closer, his hand still on your back. Apparently, blushing comes like a second nature to you ever since you met Charles.

“Wanna grab a drink?”

He doesn’t need to ask twice.

Charles guides you to the bar, keeping you close with his hand that has dropped from your back to your waist. His closeness is intoxicating and you can’t help but lean closer. Charles seems comfortable with the proximity, so you stay glued to his side as you walk to the bar, where you’re forced to pull away.

He asks the bartender for your drinks — after asking, very politely, what you’d like to drink — and leans against the counter with you by his side.

You tilt your head and observe him for a little while, Charles too busy grabbing your drinks to notice the attention. It is only when he turns to hand you the glass that he notices your gaze on him, his cheeks heating up immediately but his eye contact doesn’t waver. He just stands there with two drinks and people bumping into him, looking at you as if you’re the only person in the world.

You shake your head, grabbing your drink. “Thank you.”

You don’t really know how much time you spend at the bar chatting with Charles, but you don’t want it to end. Charles tells you about his life back in Monaco, you learn that he came very close to the racing world before his father passed away and he decided to quit — not his younger brother though, who is currently racing in Formula 1 — and dedicate his life to his other passion: architecture. And in return you tell Charles more about your decision to travel the world and not going to college, he shares some of your opinions and you’re surprised how easily you’re able to share things about your life with him.

“I don’t know where life would take me,” You take a sip of your second drink, resting your elbows on the counter. “but I’m happy where I am right now.”

“You should think about visiting Monaco, I’m sure you’ll fall in love with it.” Charles has a strange glint in his eyes that forces you to look away.

“Hey, lovebirds!” A guy throws his arms around yours and Charles’ shoulder. You recognize him as one of his beach friends.

“Dani.” Charles groans, but relaxes against his friend’s chest. “Where are Max and Lando?”

“With the DJ,” You both turn to look at the DJ booth, and right there next to him is Lando and, to his other side, the blonde guy you remember as Max. Both of them look very drunk. “Oscar wants to take them home but I said that as long as neither of them throws up, we’re good.”

Dani asks for a couple of drinks and makes small talk. He’s absolutely hilarious and doesn’t stop making fun of Charles.

“He kept asking us if we’d seen you. Every. Single. Day.” Charles pushes him away but that doesn’t stop him. “And sent like a thousand selfies pouting and trying to bribe us to look for you around the city.”

“Daniel!” Charles exclaims, mortified. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head forward.

Dani just laughs and, once his drinks are ready, walks away. Still making fun of his friend.

“It’s cute.” You confess, feeling brave enough to lift his chin up with your hand. “I’m glad you were trying to find me, even though I thought you had forgotten about me.”

“How could I?” He smiles, his dimples on full display. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath, I’m gonna confess that the only thing on my mind while I was away was our interaction at the beach.” His cheeks are blushed as he plays with the buttons of his shirt. “And how sorry I was for not asking for your number.”

You’re one second away from falling to the floor and melting onto it.

Charles is definitely not helping with the racing of your heart and the need to be a normal and a functional person.

“I’m sorry,” Charles’ voice is gentle.

“Don’t be,” You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze softly before letting go. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath,” You repeat his exact same words which makes him laugh, his whole face lighting up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Well, until I was beginning to get angry at myself for thinking about it even after you stood me up.”

Charles groans, putting his face in his hands.

“I’ve a lot to make up for.”

He looks back up and you make eye contact until Charles glances down at your lips, then back up at your eyes. And the room suddenly feels too crowded and too hot.

“You’ll have plenty of time for that.”

𓇼 — WAVE OF YOU, TAGLIST: @lovrsm @itsjustkhaos @evie-119 @sadbeautifuleva @c4tc0re @sargeantdumbass @brune77e @arian-directioner @lavisenri @starsnxva @a1leexxa @therealcap @anniee-mr @kakorrhaphiophobia @madd1115 @toxicdreamer296 @coffeebae0 @tempo-rary-fix @luca-is-a-pengu @charleslover24 @vettelsbees @iienstein @mehrmonga @ferraridepartment @fictional-l0v3r. 𓇼 [cursive means i couldn't tag you]

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#𓇼 — series: wave of you.#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #f1 grid x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc smau

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0strawberrysorbet0 · 24 days

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𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟..

𝐿𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑟 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

Currently writing this at 2am (so it's gonna be shit probs) while listening to the Sweeney Todd soundtrack so this is HEAVILY based on 'Ah, Miss', enjoy!!

Please do not use/steal my work on this site or any other! Resposts and likes are appreciated greatly!!

Summary: Lucifer spots a gorgeous person singing at one of the windows in the Vees tower and is enamored. He will steal you.

Warnings: Yandere-ish??, No Y/N usage, not many other things, my shitty writing, no uses of gender (not really a warning but whatever)

Lucifer had seen every corner and crack of both hell and heaven, he had seen the world form and had helped in creating the creatures and earth, he had seen the beauties of earth and the heavens. But never the beauties of the people.

After all, he was punished with ruling hell for all eternity, so he only saw the worst in people, so it's quite apparent that he did not like sinners. Well until he saw a stunning sinner staring longingly out of a window.

A window of the Vees tower. He didn't care for the Vees, they were below him after all but they had you? Suddenly the Vees tower was the most gorgeous building to stare at, especially a particular window

They were... Singing? A beautiful melody floated down from the window to the cracked pavement. He couldn't even hear the lyrics but was enamoured... He hadn't heard such a beautiful voice since Lilith. Yours might even be better. He stood standing, head fully tilted to see the figure who was releasing the tune.

"Look at me, favour me with your glance" he muttered under his breath, a toothy smile spread across his pale face. The sinner looked sad?.. He wanted nothing more to be able to hold them, the complete stranger.

It had been a few weeks since he first saw you but he kept coming back, he had made himself a bench as he sat and listened to the warm song he could hear, singing about wanting out.

If only you noticed him, he'd have you out with a blink. As he continued to listen to the melody he sat carving a duck of you as he watched you sing, stroking a bird that sat in a cage next to you.

He had been staring for a bit now, forgetting about the sinners near him, the ones bleeding out near him, the ones doing worse. They didn't matter. Not when a gorgeous person like you was up there.

How he wished he was with you.

As he stared you glanced at him, turning then taking a second glance, your hand giving a small wave. A slight smile across their plush lips.

He was sure if he was alive his heart would've stopped, the blood rushed to his face as he sat like a deer in headlights, how embarrassing...

As he finally snapped out of it you had turned away, dammit. His 𝘰𝘯𝘦 chance. It didn't matter. He could easily get you out of their. He was 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 afterall.

Don't worry. He'd steal you.

#hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #reader #y/n #singer!reader #singer #sweeney todd #the vees #hazbin hotel vees

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ozzgin · 26 days

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BNHA Headcanons: Pro-Hero AU! Todoroki Shoto x Reader

A/N: Posting this separately for @eudonyx so people don't get confused by the Christmas greetings in the ask (I am that slow for some things unfortunately). 😭

Featuring Shoto as a loving husband to Reader. (Gender Neutral, fluff)

If there's one thing Todoroki greatly appreciates, it's routine. But not the kind of routine you'd expect, such as mere morning habits. You see, his life as a pro-hero is quite erratic and unpredictable. You never know when disaster will hit. Or when a villain needs to be defeated. But among this chaos, there's one thing that always stands true, one aspect that never changes: at the end of the day, he comes home to you.

In fact, he'd go as far as to say you're his little corner of peace. The world may burn; as long as his (Y/N) is by his side, there's still hope to cling onto. It's just the way it's always been: You are his greatest source of comfort. And so, after a long, busy day, he cannot wait to open the door and see your welcoming smile and hear your soothing voice.

It's the little things in life that matter. This is the philosophy Todoroki adheres to. He has a fantastic reputation, and the masses adore him. He's frequently interviewed and invited to events. Yet, for him, nothing compares to an evening spent hanging out with you. No amount of fame can ever compare to the love and understanding he receives from his one and only spouse.

Such thoughts are naturally matched by gestures to prove it. Todoroki is an incredibly thoughtful husband. Mind you, he's not the type to impress you with gestures of grandeur. He's one of the top heroes and could easily arrange extravagant proposals if you so desired. He prefers, however, to show he cares in quieter ways. Randomly returning with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Stopping by your favorite bakery to surprise you with sweets. Handing you tickets to an upcoming concert of your favorite singer (yes, he took the time off from the moment he heard about it).

He is also not one to parade you around, but he will be very firm about his relationship. From an awkward, easily flustered boy, to a tactful, confident man. It's not uncommon for Shouto to be approached by fans with flirtatious intents. In that case, he will smile and keep his distance, adjusting his suit with the same hand that bears his ring. "I hope you find someone who loves you as much as I love my spouse", he'll confess cheerfully. "I can understand your feelings, I am the same as you when it comes to (Y/N)", he'll relate empathetically.

Shouto strives for peace and justice, like any other hero, though he'd be lying if he said it's his main motivation. In reality, his driving force is you. He will do his best again today, so that he can return into your arms once everything is done.

#gn reader #gender neutral reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha au #pro hero au #pro hero shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader

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oepionie · 1 year

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—"IT WAS JUST TWO LOVERS" various

💭masterlist

⊹ [ tags ] — hurt/comfort fluff, insecurities, mentions of overthinking, past relationship, they are down bad◞

HE LEISURELY PEPPERS KISSES against your cheek, hands dragging up and down your sides as you giggle at his saccharine affections. Both of you were entangled in bed, legs and arms drawn together as you had fleeting conversations about whatever came to mind.

"First love? Is that a term back in your world?" He murmurs, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck. Your lover wraps his arms tight around you, pulling your body flush against his.

A tender laugh leaves your lips as you thread your fingers through his hair. "Yes, that's a term. It's the first person you've ever loved. That one person that you will never forget. It's special since their love will leave an imprint on your heart, which will be there for all of eternity."

"I see." He hums, a forthright tone settling onto his tongue. "Well, in all honesty, you certainly wouldn't be my first love."

Oh.

Hand halting its ministrations in his hair, a bitter and agonizing feeling creeps up your chest as you force out a laugh. "I-Is that so?"

Well...perhaps you should have expected this. It was a thought you didn't want to admit to for the longest time. It only fueled your insecurities and left you feeling vulnerable, spiralling into a dishevelled mess of crying and overthinking.

Perhaps it was not so surprising, you lament.

He was a prince straight out of a fairy tale. Surely he has loved and has been loved by many other before? An uncomfortable silence followed soon after as you tried to muster up a response but couldn't. Your voice lodged itself in your throat, words failing you.

"I think the term has no merit to it, anyway." He murmurs, a soft smile gracing his lips. Your lover gazed at you affectionately as you blinked down at him and tilted your head in confusion. His love tinted stare pours over every detail of your face, observing how strands of hair fell over your cheeks, how your eyebrows drew together or how your lips pulled itself into a frown—he delighted in all of it.

"If I had love so impactful and grand as the first, why would I need another love?" Brushing his thumb against the corners of your lips, he eased your frown away. "First love, hm? That would be you then, dearest. Though, it would be far more fitting to say that you're my only one true love."

✩— MALLEUS, JADE, Lilia, VIL, ROOK, Jamil

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiyn @mayaaaeo @rainybeebs

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aguacatetoast · 2 months

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Cowboy

Female Reader x Portgas D Ace

Warnings: minors DNI! 18+, possessiveness, unprotected sex, a bit of sub Ace, oral female receiving, praising, teasing, riding, and probably more pls lmk!

Word count:2,548

(Likes and reposts are greatly appreciated!<3)

You decide to go out with your girls to the club when you see Ace the guy you had a fling with starts being possessive and sets his hat on your head. You know the cowboy hat rule.

yes this is inspired by the ace edit by @ mr.sanjivk on tiktok!

It was a Saturday night and you and your girls, Nami and Robin, had been pregaming and getting ready together on the thousand sunny. The plan was to go to a club at the next island you stopped at, which you guys were approaching rather quickly according to your navigator. "Girls! We're almost at the island, are you guys ready?" asked Nami. Robin said a soft 'yes'. "I'm almost ready, just need to put on my heels," you said. Nami as always started stressing out "Come on y/n hurry up! I heard in this town there's a drinking competition and I want my berries" she yelled out as she left the room. As soon as she did you could hear the chef swoon over her and loudly compliment her.

Robin let out a soft laugh and said "Y/n I'll meet you outside, I'll calm our navigator down." You gave her a soft smile of acknowledgement as she left the room and you finished putting on your heels. You went to a mirror to check yourself out and you were satisfied with the way you looked so you made your way outside. You were the last victim of the cook as he had been waiting for you to come out, thankfully as soon as you got onto the deck, you arrived on the island. "Took you long enough, let's go," said nami, you said quick goodbyes to everyone that was on the deck and made your way to the island.

The club was crowded and sweaty as expected, Nami went off to her competition, and Robin went to a mysterious corner to read her book, and that left you in the middle of the dance floor, with sweaty bodies all around you. It wasn't your idea for the night, but you made the most out of it (with the help of a couple of rounds of tequila shots in your system.) You had fully unwinded and danced with anyone that was around. You noticed a muscular man had taken interest in you as he kept on glaring at you and would dance extremely close to you touching your curves. Normally you would've pushed him off in 0.2 seconds, but it had been a while since you had gone clubbing and you were touch-deprived. So you simply didn't care as you were grinding onto his attractive body. You were in your own world dancing with this strange man when suddenly you felt a hat plop on your head. You started to look around and see who would do such a thing when you noticed a certain athletic man with familiar dark raven hair.

You instantly lose interest in the random guy you were dancing with and head towards Ace. Your heart was racing, and you saw he was missing his hat, which could only mean… "Hey beautiful," Ace said with a smirk as he leaned down close to your ear, "Like your hat" You look at him with an annoyed face and rolled your eyes "Hey Ace, what's up and what's with the hat?" you say trying to take the hat off, he let out a cocky chuckle and put his big hand over yours and pushed the hat back down, "I'm just claiming what's mine, that's all" You were taken aback by his actions, sure you and he had a fling, and it was more than a fling to you but he never seemed to have taken it as serious as you did. After things ended with him you thought of him every single day, he always crossed your mind. But you had to move on because you knew he didn't feel the same way, although he never said it. You also ended up joining his younger brother's crew, it was inevitable.

"Excuse me? What makes you think I'm yours, last time I checked I was never your girlfriend" you told Ace with an ache in your heart. His expression changed, and his eyes softened with sadness to them. "I'm sorry I never made you my girlfriend y/n… I was a dumbass and didn't feel like I deserved you" You just gave him a disappointed look when he said "Can I get another chance? I promise this time will be different…I really miss you" Now you don't know whether it was the alcohol or his puppy eyes pleading with you to give him another chance but you said yes. His eyes lit up and he smiled brightly "Thank you y/n I promise to treat you like a queen" he said as he brought you into a tight hug, as he rested his head on top of yours. You lightly punched his arm saying "Yeah you better…idiot" He laughed enjoying your presence and jokes that he missed so much.

Ace danced with you the entire night, keeping his warm hands tight around your waist and occasionally traveling down your ass. You had a tight grip on his buff shoulders and biceps, enjoying every inch of him not wanting the night to end. He stopped dancing for a moment which made you stop and just look at him, you two were making intense eye contact in this crowded room but in your mind, it was just the two of you. The eye contact was making your heart race again until he leaned down to kiss you, giving you the most desperate passionate kiss you've ever had, as he let go he whispered in your "You don't know how much I missed you" you smiled, happy that he missed you that much but you wanted to tease him "Show me how much you missed me" you stated close up in his ear with a sensual tone. He pulled back to face you with a shocked face and then a smirk "Are you sure you want to know?" you gave him an arrogant smile "Dying to know."

He ended up dragging you out of that club, you saw Robin on your way out as you waved goodbye to her. Ace was holding your hand so tight and almost sprinting out of there you didn't even get to see Robin's face. You and Ace managed to escape the club and made your way to his ship and then raced to his room. "y/n you don't know how long I've been waiting for this" You felt your cheeks go warm at his sincerity "I also missed you a lot Ace… thought about you every day…." you admitted to him. You see him get flustered and see his freckled cheeks go red, he kisses you again but this time with hunger. He starts off with slow passionate kisses and suddenly bites your bottom lip gently, you then feel him slip his hot tongue and you allow him access to your mouth. You missed the way he tastes, no matter what Ace always tasted the same and god did you miss it. Meanwhile, he's grabbing your ass making you grind on him and you let out a soft moan as you felt how hard he was through his shorts. He lets out a groan "Fuck I missed your beautiful noises" You smiled softly "Yeah? What else did you miss about me…"

His eyes were full of lust, different from before "Let me show you…please" he says begging. You give a small nod and he moves you towards his bed, you feel comfortable in this familiar space, it feels almost natural being there on his bed as Ace takes off your heels and lifts up your dress. He manages to get it off quickly and admires your figure in your matching lace bra and underwear. You had planned on getting some action tonight, just not with Ace (but you were glad it was him) Ace was looking at you as if you were his prey and he was the predator, you felt flustered under his intense gazing when he interrupted your thoughts "Fuck…baby you're so beautiful" his hand grazing your thighs as you laid down on his bed, back against his bed frame. You felt a fluttering when he slid your panties down, his eyes staying put on your core admiring every single second. It had been a while since you had gotten any action, you were extremely lustful and sensitive.

You let out a small gasp when he immediately digs in and licks you up from the bottom of your pussy to your clit. Ace is fully focused on your intoxicating taste, savoring every second he teases your clit and feeling as you twitch under his strong grip. You were so sensitive and turned on that if he kept on licking at your bundle of nerves you were surely going to cum right then and there. Your legs were twitching uncontrollably as you moaned, not caring how loud you were because he just made you feel so good. "F-fuck Ace if you keep on going…" Before you could finish your sentence he took his head out "Sorry princess, not yet" he said with a stupid smile "Want you to cum on my cock" he leaned in to kiss you, tasting yourself in the kiss. You were disappointed, especially knowing how close you were but you were immediately relieved by the feeling of his dripping tip rubbing along your clit and then down to your slit. "You're so pretty, baby… I can't wait to feel you" As he finished that sentence he thrusted full force into you. You moaned loudly digging your nails onto his back as he hovered over you, length fully in you.

He hissed at how tight you were "Damn sweetheart, real tight for me.." you couldn't even speak with how full you felt, he started thrusting into you slowly, your nails digging deeper. The room was full of explicit noises, your skin slapping, moans from the both of you, your wetness. While Ace fucks you, he maintains eye contact not wanting to miss your pretty face as you moaned, and making sure his hat was still placed on your head. He puts one of his thumbs in your mouth making you suck it and letting out a small good girl. He uses that thumb to rub on your clit, as he starts thrusting into you even faster "No one has ever fucked you as good as me huh baby" you moaned at the combination of sensations, your cunt being destroyed feeling the bulge in your lower stomach, and now your clit being perfectly played with as he ran circle over it, you weren't able to answer him. He makes you look at him by taking his hand away from your clit and pulling the string of his hat that was under your chin to turn your head over to where he was, making you guys meet eye to eye. "Answer me, baby, no one has ever made you feel as good as me hm?" he said in an assertive tone, as you gained a bit of awareness and shook your head yes, his thumb went back to your clit as he said "Use your words babe" You were cock drunk but managed to say "Only you make me feel so good…Ace"

He started pounding into your pussy, making you feel so full but you couldn't stop moaning and gasping, you were to think he was going to split you in half. Your legs were extremely wide open as he was pounding on you and running circles onto your clit your legs were numb at this point. The heat in your belly started blazing and you knew you were close "Ace.. I'm c-close" he starts sucking on your nipples as your boobs had spilled out of your bra and he whispered in your ear "Cum on my cock beautiful" That was your last straw. The heat in your stomach poured out of you as he took this as an opportunity to thrust even faster. You were overstimulated and tears started to flow, but he made you feel so good. Your moans were so loud if anyone was on that ship they would think Ace was torturing someone. But before you were officially done he flipped you on top of him and now he was under you.

You were distraught as you were still recovering from what just happened, with a lustful look on his face he says "Since you're wearing my hat, I think it's only right if you ride me like a true cowgirl" you scoffed but decided to do as he said. You open your legs in between him and pop in his cock back sighing at how he felt at this angle. He laid down with a smug face watching as you jumped up and down on his cock. "You take me so well sweetheart," he said and moaned right after once you started going at a faster rate. You can feel his now burning palms grip your waist moving you up and down even faster. Your pussy gripped onto him making him moan "Mm-hm I'm gonna cum" and you felt his hot liquid shooting up inside you. You moaned softly as you felt his seed inside you and spill out of you as you sat on top of him. He moved you next to him now.

He went to the bathroom cleaned himself up a bit and went with a warm towel and he cleaned up the mess he made in you. You stared at him mind racing with thoughts. You couldn't believe that this man cleaning you up gently was the same one that was railing you a couple of seconds ago. Ace catches you staring and gives you one of his big smiles, with a sweaty face and rosy freckled cheeks. You can't help but smile at him, he sets down the towel somewhere as he goes to lie down with you. Somehow after all of that, you were still wearing his hat which he seemed to appreciate. "I guess you didn't miss me much huh Ace" you said with a giggle as he brought you under the covers to cuddle him. He laughs with an almost bashful look on his face "I never slept with anyone else after you y/n, I knew no one could compare to you and how you make me feel…" He said looking at your eyes lovingly "Plus no other girl would look as good in my hat except for you." You laughed and gave him a quick kiss "Yeah I think I'm gonna keep it now it suits me much better" he smiled "How about I keep my hat and keep you by my side, that suits me best" as he reached to get his hat back you stopped him "One thing at a time ok… but yes I will be your girlfriend" He instantly pulled you into a kiss and hugged you tightly "Thank you, baby, I promise it will be nothing like last time" he squeezed you in reassurance. Your face was against his smooth chest as you confessed to him "Ace… I love you" You heard his heartbeat start racing as he ran a hand through your hair "I love you too y/n…" and then the two of you dozed off to sleep.

#one piece #one piece smut #portgas d ace #portgas ace x you #portgas ace smut #portgas ace x reader #fire fist ace #ace one piece #one piece ace #whitebeard pirate

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invisiblestringmm · 6 months

Text

chapter two

cut open my heart, right at the scar

chapter index

author: thank you for staying. feedback will be greatly appreciated!

warnings: soft smut, alcohol mention, drinking, anxiety mention.

word count: 2.571k

Some people call it faith, a few others call it manifestation. It could be a mix of both — after all, what could be more powerful than an innocent child wishing for something every night as if her life hangs on it?

You didn’t know if the stars and the whole cosmos were aligned precisely to make your daughter happy, but you felt wretched knowing that her happiness meant some tough times ahead for you; all this time, she never had what she wanted the most because you’ve been keeping it from her.

For a good motive, though.

Knowing you so well, practically as if you shared the same brain, it didn’t take much for Willow to discover what was wrong when she was determined to investigate a little. It began when you called up the office to inform them you’d be working from home due to a sudden heavy cold, then Willow found out that Lily was staying at your parent’s for the next two days; usually, the time she stayed when something was up and you needed time isolated. Then, you ignored her text messages, and also her calls when she decided to insist a bit more, knowing you’d shut off from everyone.

But you couldn’t ignore the banging on your front door.

Willow groaned when she found you still in your pyjamas, dark circles around your usually sparkly eyes, and your hair up in a messy bun. She had her brows furrowed and a large paper bag from your favourite bakery in her hand, you sighed knowing what was probably in it and how much you needed it along with a bottle of red wine - once you were done with work.

“I’ve stalked a little,” she confessed, stepping into your flat once you opened the door a bit more, giving her space. “What are the odds?”

“There aren’t any, it’s called karma and I fully accept my punishment,” you went straight to the point as you threw yourself on the sofa after grabbing the paper bag from Willow’s hands; the freshly baked chocolate muffins and croissants inside relieved your nerves only for a second.

“Don’t say that, Y/n. We both know you had your reasons,” she rubbed your back, making an effort to reassure you the minute she noticed your eyes glistening with tears. Willow had been there through it all, from the night you met Mason.

FOUR YEARS AGO

The loud music and the bright lights were annoying, to say the least. Still, you were in such a great mood that you couldn’t stop your hips from perfectly moving right and left, to the sound of every beat, and you were having fun. It was Willow’s birthday and, as a sucker for birthdays, your mission was to have the greatest time and make sure your group of friends had a blast too. In your little world, you poured champagne into your best friend’s mouth and allowed her to pour it into yours too, but you knew Willow’s reflexes weren’t the best when sober so why would they be when she was already wasted?

“Fuuuuck!” The black slipper dress was glued to your body, but you couldn’t hold a loud laugh as Willow followed you. “Fuck, fuck! Whatever, fuck! Let’s go get another drink.”

The thin line between carefree and careless was already there, even more so when you were bold enough to ask for tequila, after shamelessly flirting with the bartender and a few other guys around, and returned to your booth with one bottle in each hand, knowing the group would want some shots. Almost stumbling on the last step that gave you access to the booth, sitting on the burgundy leather sofa, you frowned when a towel was given to you. Looking up, you found that cute guy who you’d been staring at, holding it for you and that big smile that made the corner of his eyes wrinkle flashing at you.

“I thought you might need this, Miss Champagne.”

“How thoughtful of you to help me with my champagne problems…?”

“Mason.” He winked and your heart skipped a beat. How pathetic, swooning for a guy you just met. At a club, and completely drunk.

Mason was a cute name, but right now you could only think of how it’d sound if he made you moan it. You didn’t know, but he thought about that multiple times since you walked into the booth next to the one he shared with his friends and watched you, he thought of how those hips would move on top of his instead of moving to the beat of each song that filled the place. He thought how badly he wanted to just hold it and make you help move them for him. You were fun, your energy matched his and he was looking for an escape. And, on top of that, you were breathtakingly gorgeous and couldn’t care less for who he was when he told you, and you stated that the only athletes you cared about were swimmers-Italians, to be more specific.

As the night went on and Willow was now forming a line of boys to kiss - twenty, to match her age - you wanted to go and stop her but you knew you wouldn’t be able. Instead, you switched the first guy for one of Mason’s friends and begged him to kiss your friend so good she wouldn’t want any other. Declan was on for the mission and they disappeared together after the kiss.

You danced together, shared a few more shots of tequila and when Mason asked if you wanted to go to his place, there was no point playing difficult, you both wanted the same thing: fuck each other senseless. He got you all naked before you could even reach the stairs.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Masey.” You pouted, making him giggle at the nickname. Mentally, he was already fucking you and you could tell that by the way he looked at you. “And you’re perfect just like that, I don’t want you wearing nothing but the adorable flush on your cheeks while you’re here or I might have to punish you.”

“Hm? I think I’ll put my clothes back on, then.” On your tiptoes, you reached for his lips and brushed them with yours, his warm minted breath making you close your eyes and let out a low and hoarse moan that only worked as an incentive for Mason to grab your thighs and carry you into the living room, straight to his large dark sofa. “Too many clothes, Mason.”

He nodded and quickly got rid of the navy blue Nike hoodie and the basic white shirt at once, leaving his bare chest exposed. Your mouth watered as your eyes wandered through his body, noticing how beautifully sculpted it was, all in the right places. But what caught your attention, innocently for the first time of the night, was the bulge under his faded blue jeans. You gulped.

“Like what you see?” Mason grinned and you quickly nodded, reaching out to unbutton his jeans. He softly slapped your hand. “Why so eager, baby?” The pet name made you moan, along with the tip of his fingers touching your nipples, then between your boobs and making the dangerous way to your lower stomach.

“Mason…” You felt your pussy clench around nothing and he gave you another grin as he made himself comfortable on the sofa and you watched his head disappear between your legs.

You felt his breath against your pussy, making your eyes roll and your back arch. “Such a beautiful pussy, I bet it tastes so good.” Mason pressed his lips against your inner thigh as his fingers now played with your juices, teasing you, making your whole body shiver and crave his touch. It felt like you were about to lose your fucking mind when he circled your clit with his thumb and his warm tongue played with your folds. Mason’s moans while eating your pussy were heavenly, he knew what he was doing and enjoyed it, but you craved for more.

“Mason, please,” You whimpered and your eyes met. Those big, brown eyes met yours and he lifted his hea, the sight of his lips wet from your juices making you bite your lower lip as hard as you could.

“Say it.”

“I need your cock inside me, now. I need you to fuck me.”

And he did, each thrust harder and deeper than the previous as Mason devoured you. Your sweat mixed with his, your moans, and the way he fucked you was something else. When his thrusts started to become sloppy and his breathing heavier, Mason quickly flipped you so you could ride him and your only goal was to make that man cum so hard he’d forget his name.

“You take me so well, Y/n. Such a good girl.” You felt your pussy clench around him when he praised you. Leaning your body forward, you held his jaw with your hand and let it slowly slip to his throat. Mason just nodded and you grinned, finally squeezing it softly, making him moan louder.

“You gonna cum for me, Mason?” He nodded again, holding your hips steady as he now moved his hips up again at his own clumsy pace. “Then look at me when you do it and while I cum all over your cock.”

He repeatedly moaned your name, his grunts only encouraging you to squeeze his throat a bit harder, letting it go when a final loud grunt parted his lips and he came, followed by you, with your body finally crashing onto his.

“That was fucking great.” Mason giggled and you nodded in return, giggling too as you rolled to the side.

“For drunk sex, it was.” Looking down at his body once again, to appreciate the view next to you, you instantly frowned when you noticed his uncovered and still-hard cock. “Mason, I thought you were wearing a condom?”

PRESENT DAY

The streetlights softly brightened your living room in the most soothing yet nearly depressing way; Willow was gone for a few hours, leaving you and your memories to yourself. During the day, you didn’t talk much about your current situation and what you’d do - if you’d do anything or just let things happen, and go with the flow, but still with some sort of control over the whole thing. Your thoughts were everywhere but also focused on two people: Lily and Mason. You knew that, eventually, you’d find yourself in this situation - it was painful, it made it hard to even breathe, and you never really prepared for it because deep down you spent four years hoping it would take lots and lots of years for Mason to be in your life again, as unfair as it was to Lily. And being unfair to your own daughter was, by far, the most disgusting thing you could do in life. She brought you nothing but love and joy.

Willow would often say that before being a mum, you were a human being. A woman who had been hurt by a man, and then you had to raise this man’s child. But you knew you couldn’t use this excuse anymore, it was time to face the consequences of keeping Lily hidden from her father and his family, and above all, stop punishing your daughter for your poor choices in life.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Jaz asking if the plans you had for Saturday were still up, and you apologised saying that you had the flu, but that Lily was more than allowed to go and you’d talk to your mum to arrange everything. After another lie to protect yourself, since there was no flu, you thought that maybe opening a bottle of white wine would help you through what it would be a long night awake, alone with your own thoughts and desperate attempts to minimise all the collateral damage that would find its way into your life once you revealed the truth. First to your daughter, then you’d have to hunt Mason Mount again.

His reaction was what frightened you the most. What would he do? What would he say?

Would he take Lily from you?

Would he hate Lily and reject her?

Every question that crossed your mind blurred your sight, made your heart clench and felt like a stab right through your heart.

You would never let him take Lily from you, but the thought of him rejecting her was just as painful, because that little girl was something else and she deserved the whole world. She deserved a daddy that would be entirely devoted to her, just like yours had been since the day you were born.

Already feeling your body welcoming the familiar floating sensation caused by the wine, you allowed yourself to stalk Mason a little - something you hadn’t done in the longest time. It didn’t surprise you that he still looked pretty much the same. Everytime you caught his face on TV, you avoided looking too much because it hurt and bothered you deeply, but now, scrolling through his pictures you noticed that his smile was still the same and the wrinkles around his eyes was something Lily had inherited. The soft redness on his nose too. Lily had a lot of him, even if you knew so little about Mason, despite sharing a life with him.

The Instagram “message” button burned under your finger, but you went back to scrolling through his pictures, because what exactly would you say?

“Hi, remember me? That day I went to your house and you shoved me off, I was going to tell you I was carrying your child so I’ve decided to hide her from you for a period of four years”.

Gosh, what a fucked up situation you were in. Besides, what was the chance he’d actually reply?

Liking one of his pictures was subtle, he wouldn’t notice. One like amongst the millions he was getting post World Cup. You’d let the universe decide if things should run its natural course or you’d have to put yourself in a situation you’ve lived before: ringing his doorbell and telling him the biggest news of his life, but four years later, and pray for the best outcome there could be of this situation. You wondered what your family would say, what his family would say, how everyone would treat you after but you couldn’t expect much. You were hiding a child from her own right to have both sides of her family whilst growing up, despite your personal reasons.

What would the media say, if it ever came to that?

“Heavens, I think I’m gonna vomit…” You mumbled, the combination of alcohol and thoughts of your daughter’s precious face in the media, on gossip websites, made some tears fall freely down your cheeks. You still forced a large gulp of wine, to ease the anxiety that was creeping in. Half of the bottle was gone.

You fucked up, greatly and badly.

With tears still wetting your cheeks, looking absolutely pathetic, you frowned at the notification that popped on your screen.

Mason Mount was officially back into your life.

In fact, he never really left. You had the most special part of him with you, and you could only hope he’d see it the exact same way.

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount series #invisible string mm | chapter two

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intoxicated-chan · 3 months

Text

𝐀 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐜𝐞 & 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 ⚘ 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘

Summary ➳ Thorin’s heart swears to despise each and every dragon, but how could he come to hate its rider who longs for a home as he does?

Extra Information ➳ (Y/n) appeared in Mirkwood twenty three years ago with a baby dragon perched on her shoulder. Thranduil took her in to keep a promise to an old friend.

(A/n) ➳ I started writing this mid November of last year back when I started the Hobbit. I plan to upload this series either Spring or Winter. Feedback is greatly appreciated. I feel like this is more of my better works considering I wanted it to feel like the Hobbit/LOTR.

Word Count ➳ 610

Content Warnings ➳ Female Targaryen Reader, 3rd P.O.V, mentions the Doom of Valyria, mentions of death…

Series Masterlist || Chapter 1

(Y/n) watched from the corner, watching as each dwarf was pushed into a cell. Their complaints were falling on death’s ears.

She stepped out from the shadows and towards Legolas’s direction, wanting to know where the dwarves came from.

“What do you know of dragons, girl?” The dwarf’s voice was gruff, laced with bitterness as he eyed the dragon sigils embroidered into her clothing. “You wear it like a badge of honor.”

(Y/n) eyed him as well, realizing who the dwarf in the cell was. “You’re Thorin Oakenshield? Heir to the throne of Erebor.”

Thorin’s fists clenched around the iron bars. “You have yet to answer my question.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in amazement. “I cannot believe it. I’ve-”

“(Y/n)! Dina!” Legolas commanded her to come. “Get away from the dwarf.”

With that, she walked away, leaving no room for Thorin or (Y/n) to say anything.

“Must you speak to them?” Legolas sneered, following you down the steps. “What reason do you have?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the infamous Thorin Oakenshield. It was not disappointing.”

“...Is it?”

(Y/n) nodded, a smile on her lips. “Yes. If what they say is true… If they reclaim the mountain, I would love to see the glory of Erebor.”

Legolas froze in his steps. “I am beginning to wonder where your allegiance lies.”

“What makes you wonder that?”

“...Go, I need to report to the King.”

She rolled her eyes, asking herself if her curiosity made Legolas or anyone else question her loyalty.

Of course, her loyalty lies with Thranduil, he saved her and took a human and a dragon in. A human not from this world.

The sun had begun to set when (Y/n) stood at Thorin’s cell. “Might I ask you something?” She began, breaking the silence.

He looked up at her, eyes wary. “What is it? Dragon rider?”

“If you had no memories of the kingdom or its riches, would you still fight to reclaim it?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “For it is not the gold or treasures that drive me, but the honor and memory of my kin who were lost. To reclaim Erebor is to honor their memory, to give those who wish for their home.”

He stepped closer to the bars as he spoke his words, loudly enough for the rest of the Company to hear. He spoke with bravery and pride, not a single once of shame in them.

(Y/n) listened to his words closely. It made her think of her own home, the writing of the book could not describe the doom correctly.

Only a dream, unsure if it came true…

(Y/n) became lost in her thoughts, she began to speak aloud. “I wonder…” She uttered. “What it would be to see Valyria, to walk the streets, see the dragons fly into the sky with my people on its back. I wonder if any Targaryens remain.”

She sighed, sitting down on the steps. “I wonder if the dream was true and the doom of my home was correct.”

Thorin, still irate from the encounter from earlier but genuinely curious about her side of dragons, sat as well. “Was it taken?”

“It was destroyed. A Targaryen had a dream, D… Daenys had a dream. She had foresaw the destruction. But I have no way to know if it was true, I do not know if Valyria still stands or if any Targaryens remain to rule the skies.”

(Y/n) looked up to the ceiling, closing her eyes to remember how Valyria was described. “To be home. I would give my life just to see it.”

“…May you find your way home, dragon rider… And safely.”

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wexhappyxfew · 6 days

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SHUT THE FRONT FUCKING DOOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH

(but in a GOOOOOOD way)

that's it, that's the message

My babiesssss 😍😍😍

I can't send GIFs or pics on anon, and that's as pity, because my feelings would be conveyed really well though one

- Carrie Anon

LMFAOOOOOO IM SCREAMINGGGGG. so so glad that this is the reaction that has come about, i have done my duty 🫡🫡🫡 THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!! 🥹🥹🥹 it was an utter joy to write that piece, and i have since gone back, freaked out, and reread so please know that even as the writer, i have my moments 🤣🤣

ITS OK!!!!! i can absolutely feel the excitement through the screen and it is BEYOND appreciated! i can promise that judy tries to navigate herself out of whatever she has put herself into and well….you’ll have to see how that goes haha!! ☺️

THANK YOU AGAIN CARRIE ANON :))))

#carrie anon #u are a gem #the gift that keeps on giving #coming on here after a long day and WHEEZED #absolutely eating up the reactions 🤣🤣🤣#thank you lovely!!!!#greatly appreciated as always in my corner of the world 🥹✨🫶#THANK YOUUUUU (goes to help judy figure wtf is going on out)#judy rybinski #judy x rosie #<- these two goons #i love #obsessed #silver bullets #mota writings

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yaut-jaknowit · 2 months

Text

He Who Shows His Real Side

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 4003

Summary: After searching, We'ar-ow cannot find who has attacked you. Without any evidence of the attacker, he finally reveals himself smugly. He belittles the Monarch, saying he bested her. Nearly going ballistic, Reader calms We'ar-ow with a touch. We'ar-ow doesn't allow him to make a fool of her.

Author Note: Now comes the time we have learned of who this mysterious attacker is. I know I don't respond to everyone's comment but I greatly appreciate all of your kind and amazing words to me! They mean the world to me and help me stay motivated as well!

Masterlist

Ao3

Besides your form pressed the tense body of We’ar-ow, you timidly laid a hand on her thigh. The massive Yautja didn’t jolt at the touch. Instead, her own hand engulfed yours and cradled it. No words were needed in the moment. You wanted to stay at the safety of her side. The only place you’ve found refuge while on this cursed ship that’s given you suffering in the end.

Dark bruises still painted the area of your neck, easily showing the print of someone’s large hand, attempting to take your life. You bowed your head at the thought and shuttered. Death was so close, right there. But the lights… they were your only saving grace in that moment. Or else… nothing. You would be nothing.

Tears prickled the corner of your eyes. Your hand in her palm clenched. We’ar-ow firmed her grasp and even tugged the limb up closer to her torso. An action that helped you pull away from your thoughts and glance up at her.

Her alien features have grown on you over the last year being here. The way the Yautjas looked didn’t bother you anymore. Just like any other human. She was… pretty to look out. Definitely a creature that could kill you with a single move, but she didn’t.

No, here she is. With you cradled to her side and holding your hand as she worked away at the device before her. You still hadn’t figured why she wanted you in the first place or why she still has you. Shouldn’t the novelty worn off already? Shouldn’t she already dumped you to the side?

A simple sigh passed your lips. You nuzzled deeper into her side for the comfort. You jolted when a growl vibrated almost your skin and caused the hairs on your arms to rise.

The moment you tried to pull away from her, fearful you pushed the relationship too far, We’ar-ow tugged you back. Her hand squeezing yours. “Calm, my ooman,” she spoke, tone soft and nearly sweet. “That wasn’t meant for you.” You didn’t take the growl to heart afterwards and nodded your head.

You take a chance to peek at her features again. We’ar-ow was already looking at you with her bright eyes that could find every little detail on your face. You instantly looked away to find the ground an easier sight to observe.

Pink entered your vision. Rough fingertips pinched your chin and tilted your head back towards We’ar-ow. Your eyes were wide as you looked at her again. “What is the matter, little ooman?” she asked with teasing, mocking tone in her gruff voice. Honeyed, trying to draw you in.

Hook. Your brows were pinched together and up. A look of sweet innocence on your face. Heat rushed to warm your cheeks, now frozen to only peer into her blazing gaze.

Alien but notable as a smirk graces her face. You felt small, minuscule under her gaze. Something you could tell she wanted by the look she held. She leaned in closer, well as much as her torso could allow her in the position she sat in. “Oh, little pet, you make it hard…” she trailed off and ran her thumb along the softness of your lips.

As sweet as the moment was, We’ar-ow broke it off. Her shoulders slightly sagged. She, herself, pulled away but kept her hand wrapped firmly around yours. Work is to be done. No time to get distracted.

It was hard to ignore the burning in your face or the racing of your heart that she had to hear. Yet, your heart also quivered, terrified on why you were feeling this way. You curled into yourself, still lodged against the pink Yautja’s side. A side you would have to be torn from for the time being despite the embarrassment filling your veins.

Movement roused you from a nap. We’ar-ow looked down at your lack form and tightened her mandibles. She crouched down to your level and brushed a stray lock of hair out of the way. Your eyes were still closed but fluttered at the touch. A smile gracing her face at the sight before she stood up and collected her items.

She’s delayed the start of the day long enough while mulling over the lack of information she’s been given. None of the cameras were working in the sector. Whoever disabled them was sneaky and smart, able to cover up their digital footprints and leave no trace.

From the depths of her hunters instinct, she knew it had to be Dwainet. The prick would not stay down after the embarrassing fight he endured. But he’s profession was hunter. He wasn’t part of security or knowledgeable enough to know about technology to do what had been done. We’ar-ow knew it had to be him who hurt you. Who else would care you that much to kill you. There was peace within the clan that We’ar-ow strived for since her first day as Monarch. Her only enemy would be Dwainet.

Unless he had help.

The throne didn’t offer any relief. The walls of the grand room echoed her thoughts back to her. She settled down for the day and pulled up the camera feed for her quarters. There you laid, on the comfort of the couch. Even floors away, she’ll keep a watchful, protective eye on you while doing her job as Monarch.

The device was set to the side, within sight. Only a single flick of her eyes to see the screen clearly. Her gaze was drawn away when the doors slid open and revealed the first Yautja of the day to deal with. It wasn’t the most exciting thing but it was her job. She rather be back in her quarters, holding you close and making sure her pet was safe.

Throughout the dragging hours of the day, she kept vigilance over your form. Wherever you went in her quarters, she watched and ensured your safety. No matter what room. She wouldn’t lose sight of you. The last time she let her eyes off of you, someone dared to try to take your life. We’ar-ow picks up on things swiftly, this was no different. Maybe it made her even more vigilant due to the fact you were far more fragile than what she’s used to. Glass ready to shatter if you even looked at it wrong.

When the room was cleared once more of anyone, We’ar-ow locked her gaze on the screen. On the other side, you were padding into the kitchen and sifting through the refrigerator. That reminds her to pick up some more ooman friendly foods on the way back. You were allowed to eat anything you wanted, if it was safe of course. Ooman’s eating times were different than Yautjas. We’ar-ow also picked up on the usual times your kind eats at, even with the hours difference. The snacks you also munched on between the main meals.

Though, your first few days under her care, We’ar-ow observed everything she could about you. She also scoured your ooman’s internet to find out what was normal within your society.

Now, that it’s been about two months with her, she has everything down to a T.

You plucked something from the refrigerator before spinning on your heel and finding a spot in the main room to plop down on. Though, We’ar-ow would prefer you to stay in her room, she couldn’t control what you did. Pet or not, you were your own person. Your personality wasn’t something she would take away. The fire in your eyes burning bright in her presence yet the timidity not allowing you to act out.

The soft pitter-patter of feet drew her gaze to an incoming Yautja. With a hesitate sigh, she pulled her gaze from the screen to find one of her councilmembers entering the chamber. We’ar-ow sat up higher and watched the female Yautja draw to a stop at the steps of her throne. A simple, respectful bow was given before eye contact was made.

Throughout the entire discussion, We’ar-ow continued to flicker her gaze over to the screen to check up on you. The bouncing of your knee while sitting on the couch was the first sign.

While on your tablet she gave for you entertainment, you started to chew at your nails and reading at the page. Your eyes flicked between the screen before you and to the exit of her quarters. Your fear of what was on the other side was a well known terror We’ar-ow knew about. Nearly two weeks of healing and recuperating has given her the clear details.

There were two things running through your mind right now. Either the want to have her with you again for protection or the terror of the unknown. The unknown being someone busting down the door and killing you. An action We’ar-ow would not allow to happen. You are hers after all.

In her position, she couldn’t go back and hold you close. We’ar-ow had been gone long enough and had to return to her job as Monarch. The ship couldn’t last long without a mighty fist to rein in the unruly Yautjas that would run rampant. That’s why she won all the tests thrown at her and bested all the other worthy opponents.

Yet, you needed comfort, the knowledge of her being close by, ready to defend you when the time came. This was no longer a game of chance. Now, it was of when and where. You can bet your life she’ll be there.

Forcing the video to minimize to the side, We’ar-ow pulled up a messaging system and sent a short text demanding you come to her. On the camera, you had jumped at the minute ding from the device before sagging at the message.

From the pits of her stomach, she hoped it was from relief.

You stood from the couch, put away the fruit you were snacking on, and stood at the door that blocked you from the rest of the ship. Out into the place full of predators. And you were the prey. In the lions den where they weren’t hungry but turning their noses up at the sight of you.

A deep breath of air not fully designed for your lungs filled them to the brim. You raised a timid hand then pressed the necessary button to open up the hatch.

Nothing came launching out at you. That was taken as a good sign. Courage brewing inside your chest. You took the needed steps to find your way to end of the hall, trying to built up the strength needed to go to We’ar-ow.

Vigilant as ever, you peered slowly around every corner before continuing. Your head was built on top of a swivel. Not only were you paying close attention to what lied ahead of you, but also behind your slinking form. Any Yautja you came across, you scampered past them, nearly on the verge of sprinting away at full speed. Anything to get you to safety of your Yautja.

It took about half the time it usually took to find yourself panting at the open throne room doors. There in her glory was the Monarch of the ship, sitting upon her throne like the royalty she was. You patted your way in and ignored the looks the random three Yautjas gave you.

Without hesitation, you climbed the stairs and ready to sit down at the feet of We’ar-ow, in your normal spot. A firm hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged into the pink body of her. You jolted the touch at first then raised a brow at her in question. A simple jerk of her head downwards had surprise boiling in your mind. Her lap.

Another tug had you following through her silent instructions. You could care less on who stood at the foot of the stairs. The warmth and protection that radiated off of her was what you needed. No one would or could hurt you within her presence. A guardian angel on a ship full of demons that despised your guts.

You wiggled into a more comfortable position for the moment. Strewn across her lap, two legs propped up one of the arm rests. Your back to the other one. All while the tablet still was clung tightly in your digits. You finally settled down.

We’ar-ow gave you a singular look after you stopped moving then returned her attention to trio at the base. This position is something you stayed in for awhile, to afraid to disturb the inner discussions of the mothership.

Now, under the watchful eye of We’ar-ow, literally in her lap, you focus on your tablet but for different reasons. Instead of studying your route for escape, the last attack only forcing your hand more, you played a few different games downloaded.

To be honest, when you found out they had digital games, that surprised you. Their culture, their entire species seems to revolve around primitive ways while working with powerful technology that allows for space travel. It’s shocking. Some of the rules and regulations of their culture don’t always make sense. But, if you want to live, you keep to those as if it was deity telling you so.

A species that actively hunts for their food while living on this massive ships that harbor at least hundreds, if not thousands of Yautjas with incredible technology. You never thought you would ever leave earth’s atmosphere, yet here you were. The farthest a human has ever gone, at least alive. Probably.

The current game of the day was raising breeding hounds… for hunting. So, not straying off their mark too much. It is enough to keep your mind stimulated without listening to droning words of Yautjas and the translator embedded to your skin.

Despite hating the fact you were out in the open, where whoever attacked you could just come and finish the job, you hoped We’ar-ow wouldn’t easily let that happen. She’s cared about you for this long. She even allows you, more like forces, to sleep in her bed with her. Not skin to skin but close enough to hear her breathing, feel her warmth, to know she’s there. Anything to chase off the terror of meeting Death for real this time.

While the day rolled along, you were content where you were perched upon. Despite knowing you should’ve been flushed with heat and wide eyed the entire time, it was the safest place for you to be.

More Yautjas began to file into the expansive room and took up the offered space as they waited for their turn. You, on the other hand, didn’t like the influx of bodies. You tensed up and watched from the corner of your eye of the growing crowd, heart beginning to thud in its bony cage. Your breath growing quicker at each passing second.

We’ar-ow only moved an arm and rested across your lap. The weight gave you a comforting feeling and grounded you back to floor of the mothership. Your heart and breath started to slow down but you didn’t dare take your eyes away from the crowd. Who knows who lies in there?

Any of those faces could’ve been the one, shrouded in darkness.

In the sea of people of varying heights and colors, out stepped a form that had you looking longing at. Memories of the past flooded you at the sight of him. Both sides of the coin; good and bad. But that’s how life was… until he threw you off to the side.

Your chin lifted up, upturning your nose at him. You did not care about him anymore, or at least that’s what your mind supplied in the moment. He was nothing but trash at your feet, groveling after the beat down he endured. We’ar-ow has given you more care and a strange type of love than you thought possible in this weird relationship between the two of you.

To him, you were a burden, nothing more than wasted space.

To her, you may be a pet, but decorated with expensive clothing and jewelry designed for you. You have your own room, though no longer used. You are fed three times a day, snacks are always provided. You have a tablet for entertainment.

This difference is staggering.

Even with your nose upturned, you kept a piercing gaze on him encase he dared to do anything. Yet, the Yautja filed into line, nonchalant and lax. His eyes never met yours, but you knew he knew you were there, on We’ar-ow’s lap. Your hand finds We’ar-ow’s and clamp your hand on it. To keep you grounded in reality and knowledge of your safety.

She gave you a subtle squeeze back. “Dwainet step forward. Do not hide,” We’ar-ow demanded, voice booming in the chambers and echoing back at everyone.

Dwainet snorted and made his way to the edge of the steps where he stopped. As a male, he was already short but with the steps, he was forced to tilt his head up to peered at the two of you. A position that exposed his throat any incoming attacks.

“Hide? You act like I have something to hide,” he snarked. Gone was the scared, shamed male of the past. Now, stood a male who thought himself as top of the food chain. You gripped her hand tighter.

The powerful thighs of the pink Yautja twitched under you. For a fleeting moment, they tensed but instantly relaxed. “State your business then scamper off like the dishonorable male that you are,” she snapped back and pulled on her full Monarch façade. She looked down at him over the bridge of her inner mouth and mandibles.

Those words didn’t discourage him. Instead, a full smirk grew on his face. He crossed his arms. We’ar-ow growled deep in her chest and sent vibrations crawling across your skin.

He cocked his head to the side all the while still looking up at her. “I heard about that attack on your pet’s life. Such a shame that the big powerful Monarch couldn’t protect something so feeble.” You inwardly flinch at his words. Your brows burrowing down with hurt etched into your features.

How could someone you once loved say such nasty words?

We’ar-ow was ready to launch out of her throne and give the punk another beat down of his life by the way she held herself. You peered up at her cracking stoic façade. Something had to be done.

Your hand shifted from gripping the side of her palm to intertwining your fingers together. The pride that flooded your veins when she relaxed back into her seat was astonishing. It nearly gave you the power to march down these steps and gut Dwainet like the coward he was.

“My pet is free to roam the halls of my ship. There is no need for constant vigilance.” Roaming is something you wouldn’t do, unless it is for your escape.

“You should keep a tight leash on the damn thing… or else I might get my hands on it again,” he sneered with a prideful look on his once handsome face. A face you once enjoyed looking at. Now though, he taunted We’ar-ow, as if asking for her to sign his death wish.

Her digits clutched yours threading between the open spaces of them. He could never have you again, over your dead body. “Stop playing coy. Say it!” she demanded and held onto your hand in a near crushing grip. You took the shocks of pain racing up your hand, anything to keep her from leaping up and tearing the male apart. You’ve never… seen her so riled up and easily showing her cards.

The calm and collected Yautja wasn’t what you saw now.

He turned his head to look the Yautja straight in the eye. “I attacked your pet. I want it dead.”

Your lips parted. The only thing you could do in spilt second given to you was stare at him, tears welling up in your eyes. You thought he was talking about the day had abandoned you at first… but Dwainet had attempted to take your life. The person you shared a bed with, your body with, your love with.

Like the hammer of gun being released, We’ar-ow coiled her muscles to launch herself at the Yautja who just admitted to the crime. You were the safety. You reached up instantly and place a palm against her chest as if you, a feeble thing, could hold back a raging female.

She stopped.

She settled fully into her chair and took a breath. “You attacked another’s pet? That is a crime. You are continuously racking up charges. Are you wanting to be exiled, marked as a Bad Blood?” We’ar-ow turned to her more logical side rather than acting out on impulse.

The pet status, though the lowest thing in the clan, still offered your protection from any harm. Unless those who would want to be marked as a Bad Blood. You are to have read up on some things about the inner workings of a Yautja clan.

Despite being told of his crimes and a punishment worse than death, Dwainet doesn’t falter. He only peeks behind him and jerks his head up to the two of you.

From the crowd, thirteen Yautjas step out of the line and stand behind Dwainet, siding with him. “We have grown weary of this, Monarch,” he spat out the words with disgust. “You were once thought to be what we needed after the last reign. But you’ve grown soft, weak with this ooman around. If an ooman can cause our leader, our guiding hand to falter like this, we seek out a new Monarch. One who won’t take such things as pets.”

A cold terror flooded your veins, freezing you from the inside out. The thing he was implying had you terrified of what this could mean. You only know so much about the politics of Yautjas as it can differ from clan to clan.

Was he challenging her to a fight again? Did he seriously want to die? He only survived last time because you begged We’ar-ow not to kill him.

And that seemed to come back to bite you in the butt.

“Your words mean little in the eyes of the crimes that would deem you as a Bad Blood,” We’ar-ow is quick witted to put down Dwainet. She shifted in her seat and pushed her hips out a little more, showing off a laxer posed. She was no scared of him or those who side with him. A one v. thirteen that she believed she could best.

After the throw down she gave to Dwainet, you saw her power. But even she had her limitations.

“A meeting will be called to discuss your crimes, Dwainet. You are barred from leaving this ship until your fate has been decided. Your days numbered. Count them.” With a flick of her hand, she dismissed the group from the chambers.

You saw the fire in Dwainet’s eyes. He had wanted a bigger reaction from her by the looks of it. With a crowd to witness an explosive reaction would’ve added fuel to his fire. What did he want from this? What was his goal in the end?

The male you once loved snarled his annoyance before spinning on his heel and pushing his way through his crowd. They followed him, quieter about their leave. An air of unsure left in their wake.

Everyone else who wasn’t part of the revolution, began to murmur to each other before We’ar-ow ordered for the next to step up. As if nothing had occurred, the pink Yautja returned to work. You, on the other hand, fretted over what this could mean for the two of you and your safety and security on this ship.

Once believing you were safe, you questioned it all.

You had to get off this ship.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #We'ar-ow

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mint-yooxgi · 10 months

Text

{14} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang and Yunho)

Words: 8,901

Warnings: Allusion to assault/boundaries not being respected. Violence/Fighting. Brief moments of fatphobia and homophobia near the end (not done by any of the guys). I think that's all, honestly. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Oof, it's really been forever since I've updated this series... my apologies for that! Honestly, I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I might focus a bit of my attention to getting out a few more parts of this series over the next few weeks or so, but that's still to be decided. Anyways, a bit of a nicer, longer chapter update for you guys. I really hope you all like it! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Mini Masterlist

“Good morning.” A soft smile tugs at your lips as you greet the two males already waiting for you at the entrance to your village.

As soon as they hear your voice, they’re both turning to face you. A satchel is slung over your one shoulder, the material a deep green in colour as you adjust the strap lightly.

“Morning.” The corner of Yunho’s lips twitch upwards.

All you receive from Yeosang in a stiff nod in response.

Perhaps he’s not a morning person.

“Ready to go?” You inquire, looking between them both.

A grunt is all you receive from the shorter male as the taller of the two nods in response. You quirk a brow.

The first few steps down the path and out of the village are silent, each male settling in on either side of you.

“Have you both eaten this morning?” You inquire casually.

“Joong wouldn’t let us leave unless we had something.” Yunho hums in acknowledgement. “He’s always looking out for us in that way.”

The corners of your lips twitch upwards as you nod faintly, “He’s a good clan leader.”

Little do you see the way Yeosang’s one eye twitches at your words.

“Have you eaten?” Yunho’s tone is light, sparing a glance at you out of the corner of his eyes as you continue down the path.

“I’m not much of a breakfast person.” You reply, a simple shrug to your shoulders.

“You should eat something.” Yeosang’s first words to you this morning are terse, the male staring straight ahead.

“I will. When I’m hungry.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards in amusement.

“How far is it to Rose Village?” Yunho asks, keeping pace with you as he spares a glance over at his brother on your opposite side.

“About a forty minute walk,” you hum. “Five, if we were to fly.”

“So, we’re walking because…?” Yeosang’s brow furrows, finally turning to you for the first time today.

“You should learn to not always rely on your wings,” You reply, somewhat stiffly. This time, it’s you who doesn’t meet either of their gazes as you stare straight ahead. “You may not always be able to use them.”

“Well, I think utilizing our legs will be good for us.” Yunho grins, purposefully stretching his arms above his head. “It’s nice to get out of the house every now and then.”

“Yes, the world is quite beautiful, if you’re brave enough to explore it.” You hum in agreement. “It has much to both offer and to teach us.”

You see understanding pass over both male’s features.

“Hwa told Joong that you said you’re willing to begin training us?” Yunho attempts not to look too eager, but there’s a certain gleam in his eyes that you still pick up on.

“If you are all still willing to be taught-“

“Yes.” Yeosang clears his throat, noting the way both you and Yunho immediately turn to look at him. “Please.”

“Very well.” You smile faintly. “When would you like to begin?”

“As soon as possible, if that’s alright with you.” Yunho responds, a sudden giddiness to his steps.

“That can be arranged.” You nod once, firmly. “We can start now, if you’d like?”

“While we’re walking?” Yunho’s brow furrows.

“While we’re walking.” You confirm. “Though, I must say, learning is a collaboration, so you shouldn’t hoard what I teach you to yourselves. You’ll never grow as a clan that way.”

Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat. “We understand.”

“No wonder San and Wooyoung have been so eager to share your teachings with us,” Yunho mumbles.

“My rule of thumb is: if you can teach someone else what you’ve learned after you’ve learnt it, then you understand the lesson being taught.” You say, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder lightly. “Everyone learns differently, and of course you can cater specifics to your own needs, but the base is usually the same.”

“You’ve been saying this whole time that you wouldn’t teach us, but you have been.” Yeosang observes. “Through them.”

“I take no credit for what you’ve learned from your brothers.” You shake your head. “That’s all from them.”

“Hwa’s got some catching up to do…” Yunho sighs, an amused quirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Something tells me that both him and Canary Man are getting the rundown on everything while we’re gone today.” You hum, somewhat knowingly.

“I don’t know how you did it, but there seems to have been a shift in Seonghwa over the past few days. Ever since he came back home from seeing you, it seems as if he’s calmer.” Yunho states, his gaze darting to you once more.

“All it takes is one moment of kindness to show you a new perspective on life,” you smile softly. “I simply extended a hand out to him, just as I wish someone did for me when I was in that situation. He was the one that accepted the offer.”

“When you were in that situation?” Yeosang is quick to catch on to your words.

“Your eldest and I are a lot more alike than you think.” You tell them. “I was in the exact same place as he was, once. I almost lost myself, and he could have, too. I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone go through what I went through without helping them.”

“You’re wise beyond your years.” Yunho praises.

“You make me sound so old,” your nose scrunches in distaste.

Yeosang actually lets out a puff of laughter at the way Yunho begins sputtering out apologies.

“I’m just teasing you, Young One.” You chuckle. “I appreciate the compliment, all the same.”

The tips of his ears begin to turn red as he clamps his mouth shut.

Yeosang clears his throat. “Our training?”

“Ah, yes,” you nod. “How would you like to begin?”

“Shouldn’t you decide that for us?” Yunho quirks a brow, managing to get his bashfulness under control for the moment.

“I don’t want to be teaching you stuff you already know.” You shrug. “I’ve never seen you in a fight, nor do I know how strong your senses have become since the first time we met.”

“I thought you knew everything.” Yeosang blinks, almost innocently at you.

You laugh, “Not everything, Yeosang.”

You swear you see a shiver caress his spine as you say his name.

“Well, what do you know of our powers?” Yunho asks, nothing but curiosity shining in his eyes.

“If you’re incurring whether or not I know what type of dragon you are, Yunho, then you should be specific.” You shoot him a small look. “Speak of your own desires before you assume to know someone else’s.”

He swallows thickly. “Then, do you?”

“Do I, what?” You press, quirking a brow all the while.

“Know what type of powers I possess?”

“I do.” You hum.

He frowns, “How?”

You smile, almost tenderly. “Your youngest seems to enjoy talking about all of you to me as much as he enjoys talking about me to you.”

You hear Yeosang take in a deep breath beside you, almost exasperatedly.

“So, Jongho told you.” Yunho nods his understanding.

“For the most part,” you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag. “I can sense more than presences if I focus, you know.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Yunho breathes, a wondrous look shining in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeosang lets out another puff of air.

“Quite a few things, actually,” you confirm with an amused grin. “But that’s not important right now.”

“So, then,” Yunho hums, his body half turning more towards you in eagerness, “What’s my power?”

Nothing but mirth dances within your gaze as you see Yunho practically vibrating with excitement as he continues to walk alongside you. Yeosang seems to have slowed slightly, his shoulders curling in on himself as he crosses his arms over his chest. A small frown pulls at his features, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks irritated.

You meet Yunho’s gaze.

“Earth.” You state. “Rather, the minerals that fill the ground.”

Yunho smiles, nodding quite enthusiastically along with your words.

“It’s very fitting,” you add. “From what some of your brothers tell me, you are quite a stable rock in their lives.”

His blush returns, Yunho suddenly wiping his palms on the sides of his thighs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” you chuckle. “Thank your brothers.”

Yunho spares a brief glance at Yeosang, noticing how the aforementioned male looks so irate.

“What’s the matter, Yeo?” Yunho’s head tilts slightly in worry. “You were probably the second most excited after San when we learned she would teach us.”

At this, your brow quirks.

Heat immediately flares to Yeosang’s cheeks, the male avoiding your gaze as he mumbles out a ‘just tired.’

“Well, it is quite early,” you hum in agreement. “We’ll be at Rose Village soon, anyways.”

“Is there anything we can practice while we walk?” Yunho inquires eagerly.

“Hone your senses.” You reply, almost instantly. At the way they both spare a curious look at you, you’re quick to continue, “You’ve been doing so already, that much I can tell. However, it isn’t enough. You,” turning your sharp gaze to the side, you meet Yeosang’s eyes, “should be able to sense things with the breeze for miles. It should get to the point where you don’t even need to expel any excess energy to do so; it should become second nature.”

He nods, eyes sharpening as he focusses on sensing the wind almost immediately after you stop talking.

“And you,” you turn your pointed stare to Yunho who straightens almost immediately, “should be able to sense the vibrations in the earth as to where your enemies are. Know your surroundings; hone your senses.”

“How do we know if we’re doing it properly?” Yeosang questions, his lips slightly pursed in concentration.

“You will feel as if you’ve become one with your surroundings.” You reply. “Having the powers you do helps tremendously, for when the time is right, such elements will feel as if they are speaking to you. Train your ears to notice the slightest of sounds. Train yourself to notice every scent in an area, and pick up on when they shift even the faintest bit. Trust your senses, and rely on your instincts. You’ll soon begin to notice things that were never there before.”

“And we’re supposed to do this while walking?” Yeosang frowns.

“The constant sound of our feet crunching the gravel is a good practice for a monotonous sound.” You go on to say. “It is repetitive, so you should be able to drown it out. You won’t always have time to gather your bearings while standing still. Search for the abnormalities within the constant, and you’ll master your senses much quicker.”

“I think I get it,” Yunho nods, almost absentmindedly.

“I know you’ve both already been expanding your sensory reach.” You comment. “It’s time to take it a step further. I have faith in the both of you. Don’t just think,” your eyes flash briefly as your head whips to the side, a bird taking off from a branch in the next second, “feel.”

Two nods are all you receive in response as the males begin to thoroughly concentrate on their surroundings. You can tell how intently they’re focussing, for they stare straight ahead, standing to their full heights as they continue down the path with you.

A small breeze picks up, and you can feel the ground beneath your feet beginning to hum with life.

“Good,” you nod casually. “Once you both feel as if you have a better understanding of our surroundings, let me know. I’ll test you.”

“Test us?” Yeosang’s head tilts curiously.

“I’ll start easy on you,” you grin, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “For example, there’s a squirrel somewhere close by. Find it.”

Both of their heads whip off to the right, a brow squirrel running down the side of a tree in the next second.

“Good.” You nod approvingly. “This is exactly what I mean. Everything is interconnected, and by the time you hone your sense, nothing will escape you.”

They both nod, soft smiles pulling at their features.

“This is also a good way to discern what you need to work on to hide yourselves better.” You continue. “Scent, sound, sight: everything can both work for you, or against you.”

“Now that you mention it, I can smell you a lot more, Yeo.” Yunho’s nose scrunches.

A small laugh escapes you, and you see the aforementioned male’s cheeks dusting red.

“Yeah, well, the sound of your footfalls are like a giant upon the earth.” Yeosang snaps back.

Again, you chuckle, noticing how Yunho’s ears begin to turn red once more.

“See, these are things you both can work on to hide yourselves better.” You spare a glance at both of them. “If you really want to test yourselves, ask Jaemin to track you. He’s the best of our clan.”

You do not fail to miss the way they both stiffen at your words.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang grimaces slightly, shooting a pointed look towards Yunho. “Wouldn’t want to stink him out.”

“If you’re worried if you smell or not, you don’t.” You reply, noticing how he falters slightly in his steps. “You actually have quite a pleasant musk, like fresh juniper and oak.”

Instantly, Yeosang’s spine straightens, puffing his chest out slightly as the corner of his lips tug upwards smugly.

Yunho, on the other hand, begins to pout.

“We’re almost there,” you comment, motioning ahead on the path with your chin.

Glancing forward, the two males can just make out the entranceway of Rose Village. Flowers surround the grand archway, and faintly, they can both begin to smell the pungent aromas drifting through the air.

“Who’s a better tracker, then? You, or Jaemin?” Yunho attempts to change the subject, if only slightly.

Your knowing smile says it all. “Do not forget that I was the one who taught him everything he knows.”

“Then, we should just ask you to track us.” Yeosang replies.

You shake your head. “You’ll never learn that way, and I won’t always be around to train you. My Neos are your best options if you even want to attempt to best me at anything.”

“Which is why you sent Woo and San to Ten and Taeil to start.” Yeosang hums in understanding.

“Exactly.” You nod in confirmation. “You should partner up with them if you want to learn how to better utilize your powers. If you want to hone your strength, ask Jeno to train you. He’s our strongest fighter.”

“Something tells me we’ll have to go through them before we can even get to you.” Yunho spares a look at you out of the corner of his eyes.

You meet his gaze, the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

“We’re here,” you pause just before the archway, observing the village with such a fond look in your eyes as you see people milling about just through the entrance. “Continue to hone your sense, you never know what you might learn.”

Without saying another word, you enter the village.

A smile pulls onto your features as you take in your surroundings. Many different stalls have been set up, lining the paths with different vendors selling their wares. There’s a fruit stand off to the side, a few different herb sellers, and multiple florists all chatting with potential customers.

Walking through the main road, you cannot help the wondrous shine in your eyes as you observe the daily lives of the townsfolk. That feeling of nostalgia that floods your senses almost serves to overwhelm you, your one hand tightening its grip on the strap of your satchel.

Little do you see the fond looks either dragon send your way.

“This way.” You voice lowly, shifting almost wistfully through the throngs of people towards the very back of the street.

Reaching the end of the row, the area opens up into a large square with a beautiful trickling fountain in the centre. Vines creep up the sides of the buildings, more flowers blooming from every angle and filling the space with vibrant colours of pink, purple, red, and orange.

There’s almost a renewed giddiness to your steps as you round a corner, more vendors lining the street. Your steps are precise and steady, heading directly to a specific counter right at the end of the row.

Silently, the two males follow but a step behind.

Two females can be seen conversing behind the stall counter. Both are quite tall in stature with dark skin. One wears her hair in tight braids, the tips resting just below her shoulders. The other has shorter hair, tight curls adorning the strands. Around their stand, three rambunctious children - two girls, one male - can be seen running around, hitting each other with different flower stalks.

Stopping in her tracks, one of the children seems to take notice of you approaching the stand. A large, dramatic gasp escapes her, causing her siblings and mothers to turn their heads in your direction.

“Auntie!” The little girl squeals, immediately running over to you with her arms outstretched.

The two males share a look as you wrap the little girl in your arms, picking her up and hugging her tightly as she giggles loudly.

“My goodness, you’ve gotten so big!” You grin, holding her against your hip as she rests her hands on your shoulders.

“What about me!” The other little girl says, tugging at your shirt lightly as she stands beside you.

“Yeah!” The little boy adds, standing tall with his hands on his hips. “It’s not fair you always pick up Delilah first!”

“Well, I do have two arms, Marcus,” you chuckle, shifting Delilah over slightly so you can pat his head affectionately.

Just as you go to reach for him, he runs away.

“No, wait! I’m too old for you to be picking me up!” He whines, hiding behind the stall counter with his parents.

“I’m not!” The other little girl says, running right into your arms so you can pick her up.

A moment later, and you’ve hoisted her into your free arm, giggles falling from her lips as she places a big kiss onto your cheek.

“It’s good to see you again,” the woman with the braids smiles kindly, an overtly affectionate look shining in her eyes as she stares at the scene before her.

“We’ve all missed you.” The other woman says, standing just a smidge taller than her wife beside her.

“I’ve missed you all, too.” You return their fond looks, nuzzling your forehead affectionately against the girl’s own.

They giggle in response, Delilah leaning into you further.

“Auntie, did you bring us anything?” She inquires innocently, blinking at you all the while.

“You know I always do.” You chuckle fondly, placing both girls back on their feet for the time being. “Jungwoo was very adamant about me giving these to you.”

“Oh, they’re from Uncle Jungwoo?” Marcus’ eyes instantly light up, coming back around the counter to stand before you.

Sliding the strap of the bag off your shoulder, you open the satchel. Reaching inside, you pull out three small wooden figurines. The deer you hand to Delilah, the eagle to Marcus, and the little dragon figurine you hand to the final little girl.

“Wow,” she gasps, nothing but pure awe in her eyes as she turns the figure around and around in her hands.

“Minnie, what do we say to your Auntie?” The woman with the braids smiles knowingly.

Immediately, the girl looks up into your eyes, a bright smile on her lips, “Thank you, Auntie!”

You chuckle, “Don’t thank me, thank your Uncle Jungwoo.”

“Auntie,” Marcus begins lowly, leaning into you as if discussing something secret. His eyes briefly dart past you to the two males still standing silently behind you. “Are you cheating on Uncle Jungwoo?”

A boisterous laugh escapes both you and the two females still standing behind the counter.

“Oh, no, Marcus,” you pat his arm assuringly. “Your Uncle Jungwoo and I are not together.”

“So, then, are these your new boyfriends?” Minnies ask, walking up to Yunho and tugging on the side of his pants. “Are you married to my Auntie now?”

You swear Yunho’s eyes nearly bulge right out of his head as he splutters over his own words.

“No, Minnie,” you chuckle, “We’re not married.”

“Why not?” Minnie turns back to you, blinking almost owlishly.

“Minnie, relationships don’t work like that,” the taller of the two ladies shakes her head endearingly.

“But you and mommy are married!” She scurries over to the both of them.

“That’s because we’ve known each other for a very long time.” The woman answers.

“Uncle Jungwoo and Auntie have known each other for a very long time.” Marcus voices.

“Not as long as Uncle Renjun, or Uncle Taeyong, though.” Delilah adds, matter-of-factly.

“My Neos are like family to me,” you explain softly. “Like my brothers.”

“What about Uncle Kun?” Minnie asks innocently.

“Children, that’s enough.” A sharp look is given to the three of them by the woman with the braids.

“It’s alright, Kamille.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You crouch down so you’re eye level with Minnie. “Uncle Kun finally found his special someone, and I’m happy for him. We agreed to just stay friends.”

“His loss,” the taller of the two mumbles.

“Trisha,” a sharp look is sent her way by you.

She shrugs, “Just saying.”

“Auntie! We have something for you!” Delilah exclaims excitedly, scurrying into the house behind the stall with the other two children in tow as they all remember their gifts for you.

You stand back to your full height, a curious quirk to your one brow.

The two women offer you knowing looks in response. Except, once they see what each of the children hold on their way back out of the house, they attempt to stop them. Only, they don’t manage to catch them.

“Mommy said these were your favourites, once.” Minnie extends a few flowers out to you, both Marcus and Delilah standing on either side of her doing the same.

Your breath catches in your throat as you see the children each holding out a few stems of bluebells to you with smiles on their faces.

A soft call of your name from Kamille sounds from behind the children. “We’re so sorry, we told them-“

“Did you grow these yourselves?” You cut her off, not even sparing her a look as your eyes begin to water.

Three proud nods greet your blurry vision, and your first tear falls. Softly, you grab the flowers from their hands.

“Look at you three!” You smile through the pain in your heart which suffocates you from the inside out. “You’ll be giving your mother’s a run for their money pretty soon. These flowers are beautiful!”

Happy giggles reach your ears, the girls twirling eagerly from side to side as Marcus avoids your gaze.

“Okay, children, why don’t you go grab some snacks for all of us at the bakery.” Trisha grabs a few coins and hands then to Marcus. “We have some things to talk about with your Aunt, here.”

“Okay!” Three cheers are heard as they all rush off down the street, disappearing into the crowd.

“I’ll go with them.” Yunho offers, already following after the three children.

Kamille simply raises an eyebrow.

“He heard the word ‘bakery,’ and now that’s all he can think about.” Yeosang sighs.

“I don’t blame him,” you wipe your tears from your cheeks, gazing almost longingly down at the bouquet of bluebells in your hand. “Rose Village bakery is one of the best around for miles. Seeing as he bakes, he probably wants to check it out.”

“Ah, found yourself a baker this time, have you?” Trisha jokes.

“I haven’t found myself anything.” You shake your head, a slight huff escaping you.

Both women finally step out from behind their little stall.

“It’s good to see you again,” Kamille says as she wraps her arms around you, making sure to avoid your back all the while.

“We weren’t lying when we said we’ve missed you,” this time, it’s Trisha’s turn to wrap you in her arms, hugging you tightly as you do the same back.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You pat her back affectionately.

“I thought you said you were going to come visit more often,” Kamille shoots you a playfully accusatory look.

“Yes, well,” you chuckle, motioning to Yeosang with your eyes, “Some things came up.”

“Oh, where are our manners?” Kamille immediately turns to the single dragon by your side. “I’m Kamille, and this is Trisha. We’re the Delaris’. Those three you saw earlier are our kids, Marcus, Delilah, and Minnie.”

Yeosang bows respectfully, introducing himself and his brother in the next moment.

“Yes, we’ve heard whispers about you Halas.” Trisha crosses her arms over her chest, a minor quirk to her brow.

“How did you-“

“The forest speaks in many tongues.” Kamille replies easily, moving behind her stall and rummaging around in a bin.

“You’re dragons?” Yeosang sounds more surprised than he figures he should be at this point.

“Not quite.” Trisha grins knowingly.

“They’re my oldest caster friends.” You explain, placing the flowers onto the counter before you.

Understanding passes across his features.

“Seriously, we cannot apologize enough about the flowers,” Trisha grimaces, her arms falling back to her sides.

“It’s alright,” you smile weakly. “At least they weren’t daisies.”

“But these were meant to replace daisies with-“

“Trisha!” Kamille’s sharp voice cuts her wife off as she pops back up behind the stand.

Both women spare a worried look in your direction, only serving to make Yeosang even more confused than he already is. At the pained expression you wear, nothing but concern pulls at his features, stepping the slightest bit closer to you. All he wants to do is ease your distress in whatever ways he can, his earlier irritation long since forgotten now.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received bluebells from anyone.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. Gently, one of your fingers traces over a bloom. “They don’t grow on this side of the fjord. Naturally, at least.”

“We haven’t sensed any of them crossing over in quite a long time.” Kamille comments.

“They shouldn’t.” You meet her gaze, your eyes flashing. “Nor will they ever again.”

“What about Bokkie?” Trisha’s brow furrows slightly.

You simply shake your head in response.

Yeosang frowns.

“Anyways,” Kamille clears her throat. “I take it you’re here for your usual order?”

“I can’t come to see my old friends?” You tease.

“Hey!” Trisha protests. “We’re not that old!”

“You’re almost as old as I am.” You chuckle, your eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Give or take about a hundred years.” Kamille mumbles, a playful roll to her eyes.

Yeosang’s eyes widen in shock.

“Oh, you’ve gone and stunned the poor baby dragon.” Trisha tuts, turning to meet Yeosang’s gaze in the next second. “Us witches know quite a few tricks to staying youthful, you know.”

“Of course, it helps to keep your nose out of trouble.” Kamille adds.

“You two, staying out of trouble?” You quirk a brow. “Unlikely.”

The two women share a look.

“Guilty.” Trisha chuckles, shooting a wink in your direction. “Now, come with me and I’ll help you get those herbs you like so much.”

A simple nod is all you offer her in response, following her into the house and chatting idly as you leave Yeosang with Kamille.

“Are you sure the kid is going to be okay with Kami by himself?” Trisha asks from over her shoulder.

“I heard that!” Kamille calls after you both.

You chuckle, “I’m quite certain Yeosang can handle himself.

Little do you see how the aforementioned male straightens slightly, the corner of his lip twitching upwards faintly.

“Alright,” Trisha chuckles, guiding you into the back room of the house where their rarer herbs reside. “Well, as always, you’re welcome to anything and everything you’d like.”

“I literally cannot thank you enough,” you smile, already harvesting some thistle wart from its pot. “Oh, actually, before I forget, I brought something for the two of you, as well.”

Pausing in your movements, you reach into your satchel once more and pull out two leather-bound books, and two small carved crystals.

“I finished compiling that tome you asked me the last time, and I think you’ll enjoy the other one, too. The crystals are a gift from me to you, as a thank you for everything you two have done.” You place each item carefully into her own hands. “They’re also good luck charms.”

Trisha places both books onto a side table before carefully examining the carved crystals. One is in the shape of an obelisk, symbols carved along its side. The other is smooth like a river stone, perfectly oval in shaped. Both are milky white in colour, and her eyes flash with understanding.

“Thank you,” she bows deeply before wrapping you in another hug. “You’ve always done more for this family than we deserve.”

“Nonsense,” you shake your head, holding her at arms length once she pulls away. “You guys are my family, not just My Neos.”

“Then, you know if you ever need anything, all you need to do is ask, right?” She quirks a brow at you.

“Of course.” You nod, quite firmly at her. “Know that the same is true of me with you.”

Trisha returns your smile.

A moment later, and you return to harvesting the plants scattered around the room.

“So, are you going to tell us about you and those Hala dragons of yours?” She inquires, somewhat knowingly.

“There’s nothing major, really.” You shrug, placing some herbs into your satchel. “I consider them my friends, for my part.”

“There hasn’t been a raid from them since they attempted to harm your village.” She observes, and at your mildly surprised look, she clarifies, “Renjun’s been by a few times with Johnny.”

“Has he, now?” Understanding crosses your features. “Well, they’ve certainly calmed themselves since I’ve met them.”

“Any of which your doing?” She leans against the side table, tilting her head in your direction.

“I do not control other’s actions.” Comes your quick reply, but even she can tell you’re now avoiding her gaze.

“Normally Taeyong joins you on a day like today.” She observes. “Yet, two Halas are here instead. Either he knows something we don’t, or he’s currently on his deathbed.”

“If you’re suggesting Taeyong set me up, you’d sadly be mistaken.” You reply, glancing up at her from the plant you’re currently harvesting. “The two of them simply convinced him to let them take his place. Which reminds me… Yongie said he wanted some more of your roses, if you’d be so kind.”

“I’ll let Kamille know,” Trisha hums, watching you carefully.

A moment of silence.

“I’m going to train them.”

Trisha blinks at you in shock. She clears her throat, “Are you sure?”

“I said I would.” Comes your resolute answer.

“You haven’t offered to train anyone since the Wolves-“

“I know.” You cut her off, exhaling a deep sigh as you stand back to your full height. “I can’t keep living my life in the shadow of his betrayal, Trish. I’m tired of letting it control me.”

“This is about more than just training, isn’t it?” Her tone is soft as she takes a step towards you, placing a gentle hand onto the side of your arm in comfort.

“It’s been over fifty years, Trish-“ your voice catches in your throat as she begins rubbing your arm soothingly. Tears begin to gather once more in your eyes, your own hands clinging desperately to the strap of your satchel. “I don’t want to watch my life pass by from the outside anymore. I want to start living again, and maybe-“ you swallow thickly, “maybe even learn to love again.”

She smiles softly at you, giving your arm a light squeeze.

“And honestly, Trisha,” you suck in a sharp breath, “I’m terrified. I want to believe him- I want to believe in him so badly, it hurts, but I don’t know if I can. And then what happened with Kun…” You trail off. “I can’t go through another-“ you choke on a sob, “I can’t-“

“I know, sweetie,” she coos, shushing you all the while as she wraps you in her embrace. “I know.”

“The most terrifying thought, though, is that I am.” You whisper lowly. “I am starting to believe him.”

“The one outside?” Her brow furrows slightly.

“No, his brother.” You shake your head.

“The baker?”

“No, their youngest.” You clarify.

A noise of understanding echoes in her throat.

“Why do you-“

“I think it’s more than just the youngest that’s making you believe.” She observes. “Sure, he may have been the catalyst, but I know you. Even you would have had a difficult time agreeing to let anyone but Taeyong come with you to see us today. Hell, even bringing them to this festival is something you would have denied to anyone whom you didn’t trust.”

You take a moment to consider her words. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you should do. Only you can decide that for yourself.” She says, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “What I can tell you is this: you are not the same person you were all those years ago. You know both Kami and I strongly believe in things always happening for a reason, and perhaps what happened with Kun was meant to happen so you could find them. Perhaps letting yourself believe won’t be such a bad thing.”

You nod lightly.

“Besides, I can sense the magic of this youngest’s Drygg Promise all over you.” She tilts her head knowingly. “It’s the strongest, most sincere form of magic I’ve ever seen from anybody. Even from you.”

“He is quite convincing.” You chuckle fondly.

“Convincing, or sincere?” She squeezes your arm once more. “Come on, the kids should be back by now.”

“I’ll be out in a minute, I just have a few more herbs to get.” You tell her, noticing how she begins to head towards the front.

A call of her name from you stops her.

“Thank you.” You meet her gaze, clearing your throat lightly as you compose yourself. “For everything.”

Trisha smiles. “You know we’re always here for you. I think it’s time you let some new people in, as well.”

Without another word, or waiting for a response from you for that matter, she leaves back out through the front door.

Perhaps she’s right. Maybe it is time for you to allow yourself to grow and let go of your past.

Finally, you think you’re ready to move on.

Stepping back out of the house a few minutes later, you see both women conversing with Yeosang. The tips of his ears are dusted a faint red, and even you can see the way he seemingly lights up as soon as he sees you.

“There you are,” Kamille nudges your side gently as you come to stand beside her. “Yeosang was worried you got lost.”

“I was not!” His eyes widen, greatly scandalized by Kamille’s words.

“Right.” Trisha laughs. “And you weren’t just thinking about storming past us to make sure she was still alive.”

The way he begins to splutter says it all.

“It’s okay,” Trisha pats him affectionately on his arm. “We know the signs all too well.”

“What signs?” Yeosang shifts his gaze between them, a confused, almost defensive furrow to his brow.

The two women share a look. “Denial.”

“The kids aren’t back yet?” You cut in, glancing around the area briefly and not seeing them, or a much taller male in sight.

“Not yet,” Kamille shakes her head, a worried pull to her lips downwards.

“Not that we don’t trust your brother,” Trisha adds, sparing a brief look at Yeosang, “but they should have been back by now.”

Your head tilts, and you notice Yeosang’s does, too.

“Mommy!” A cry is heard just through the crowd, and you see both Delilah and Marcus pushing their way through the throngs of people.

Immediately, you intercept the two children, their parents at your side.

“What’s wrong?” A frown is prominent on Kamille’s face as she picks Delilah up.

“Where’s Minnie?” Trisha is quick to grab ahold of Marcus who clings onto her side.

“That new bakery lady won’t leave Yuyu alone.” Delilah pouts.

“She’s worse than when you and mom start making kissey faces at one another.” Marcus’ nose scrunches in distaste.

“Minnie’s trying to save him, but it’s not working.” Delilah adds.

“I thought Rylie was married.” Kamille says, more to herself than anything.

“I’m sure Yunho can handle a few flirtatious comments sent his way.” Yeosang chuckles. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

“He popular like that, or something?” Trisha quirks a brow, somewhat teasingly.

“Or something.” Yeosang grumbles.

“Didn’t take you to be one to get jealous,” you hum, and you notice how his cheeks begin to dust pink for the nth time today.

“I’m not jealous.” He grumbles, gaze flicking over to you every now and then.

“Mom!” Delilah whines. “This is serious! Yuyu is in big trouble!”

“We’ll go check it out. Don’t worry.” You assure them.

“Hurry!” Marcus begins to tug Trisha down the street. “There’s bad energy coming from him.”

The three of you share a look.

Almost instantly, you and the two witches take off down the row, pushing your way through the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Yeosang manages to just keep pace with you.

“Marcus can sense shifts in energies, it’s his specialty ever since he was small. If he gets a bad feeling, almost always something bad will happen.” You explain quickly. “Your brother may be in danger.”

Rounding a street corner, the crowd thins slightly. You can see the awning of the bakery in sight, and you hurry your pace, the others following behind.

The bell above the shop door jingles as you six enter the shop. The owner, Nina, sends you a warm smile from her chair behind the counter. Once she adjusts her glasses, she’s offering you a friendly wave in recognition. Age, it seems, is catching up with her.

You have just enough time to wave back before your attention is drawn to the side where you see Yunho backed into a corner, the new girl - Rylie - holding him hostage with her arm beside his shoulder. The way she’s leaning into him, and his stiff demeanour, says it all.

“Mommy!” Winnie scoots out from between them, panic clear on her features.

Kamille is quick to embrace the girl, cooing at her to calm her down.

“Rylie.” Trisha’s stern call of her name has the women sighing dramatically before turning her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Still, she does not move from her position.

“What?” Nothing but irritation lines her voice as her gaze flicks over to your little group.

“Tell her to stop bothering Uncle Yuyu!” Winnie crosses her arms, frown prominent on her features.

Your eyebrows raise slightly at the name she calls him, mirth dancing on your features.

“You heard the little lady.” You address the woman before you, noticing how she purposefully trails her gaze over you in disgust.

“If he wanted me to stop, he would have pushed me away by now.” She retorts, rather pointedly.

“Actually, I’ve been asking you to give me space this whole time-“

“Shhh,” she turns quickly, placing a finger over his lips as she leans into him. “You don’t have to lie to save her pride. I know I’m a better match for you than she is.”

You blink, not being able to keep the appalled expression off of your features. Honestly, you’re more amused than anything, but you contain your laugh of disbelief for now.

You share a look with both Kamille and Trisha. You smirk.

If this is how this woman wants to play, then you’ll gladly succumb to her games.

“What makes you think I enjoy the company of men?” You quirk a brow, beginning to slowly step towards this woman. The way your suddenly hooded gaze remains locked on her has her faltering for a moment. “You caught my eye since I first stepped foot in this little bakery, here.”

“What are you doing?” Her brow furrows, and she takes a step back and away from Yunho as you creep closer.

“It seems to me you enjoy assertive people.” You continue to approach, backing her into the corner and away from Yunho. “I’m just emanating you.”

“Don’t come near me.” She pushes herself against the wall.

You stop in your tracks, leaving a good two feet of distance between your body and hers. You blink at her in curiosity, tilting your head all the same.

“If you wanted me to stop, you would push me away.” You throw her words back at her, making sure never to lay a single finger on her the whole while.

“Just leave me alone.” She spits.

“To be clear, you’re asking me to stop?” You inquire, staring straight into her eyes expectantly.

“Yes!” She hisses. “Do you not understand the word ‘no’?”

Your eyebrows raise, but you remain silent. Your expression says it all.

A scowl is pulling at her features in the next moment as she pushes past you, knocking into your shoulder quite harshly. “Fucking bitch.”

The sound of the bell jingling above the door is the only indication you have that she’s left.

“Oh, I suppose it is time for her break.” Nina hums, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Seriously, Nina,” Kamille sighs. “You should find better employees.”

The old woman either doesn’t hear her, or chooses not to answer as she begins humming a soft tune to herself.

You shake you head, turning to face Yunho in the next second. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” his reply is somewhat breathless as he stares at you, blinking to clear his vision soon after. He clears his throat, seemingly coming back to reality. “Yeah.”

Winnie immediately runs over to Yunho, grabbing his hand in hers.

“Uncle Yuyu, you promised to buy us flowers!” She begins tugging him towards the entrance.

You quirk a brow, “Upgraded to Uncle now, are you?”

He grins, a red creeping onto his ears. “It was all them.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Yeosang pouting.

“Hey kids, why don’t you drag Uncle Yeo along with you, too.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards knowingly.

“Okay!” Delilah immediately rushes over to Yeosang, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door now, too.

“Have fun!” You wave them off, seeing as Marcus now holds the door open for them all.

The moment the door swings shut, the three of you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Crisis averted.” Kamille sighs, sitting herself down in one of the chairs nearest to her.

“Rylie has been a piece of work since she started here last month.” Trisha sits opposite Kamille, you joining them quickly.

“She new to town?” You inquire, noting how quiet the bakery is for a day like today.

“Yeah, her and her husband moved here about two months ago. She’s stirring up trouble wherever she goes, and we usually have to clean up the mess.” Trisha frowns. “Flirts with every male she sees, then usually her husband steps in to ‘defend what’s his’.”

You grimace, “Sounds like they’re both a piece of work.”

“You’re telling us.” Kamille nods. “We’ve had to step in a number of times before things get too out of hand. He’s already received two major warnings.”

“One more and we kick them out of here for good.” Trisha says. “Perks of being the heads of council.”

“You two run this village flawlessly,” you comment. “Of course you have final say. I’m honestly surprised you still let them live here.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ve become too lenient in our old age.” Kamille hums, the three of you sharing a laugh.

A few minutes later, the three of you are sharing a pastry, talking idly as you wait for the kids and the two males to return. The more you converse with your friends, the more your shoulders relax. Though, with the sound of the bell chiming above the door, and the ominous presence you feel entering the bakery, that happiness soon plummets into unease.

“That’s her.” You hear a harsh whisper behind you. “That’s the bitch that touched me.”

You nearly roll your eyes, but at the way the two women in front of you stiffen, you opt to sigh instead.

“Oi, you!” A loud voice draws your attention to the front of the bakery to see a burly man standing there. His arms are crossed as Rylie practically clings to his side, sneering in your direction. “You think you can just go around laying your grubby paws on my wife?”

“Actually, Sir, I never touched your wife.” You reply calmly, resting an arm over the back of your chair as you turn to face him. “It was your wife who continuously threw herself at one of my own friends, even after he repeatedly asked her kindly to stop.”

“So, you’re a fucking bitch and a liar?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Should have expected that from a fat queer such as yourself.”

Your head tilts slowly in understanding. “Do you have more of an issue with me because I’m fat, or because I’m queer?”

“A smartass, too? Damn, I’m going to enjoy knocking your teeth in.” He cracks his knuckles. “No, I have an issue with you. You came onto my wife, and now you’re going to regret it.”

“I have no desire to shatter your already fragile masculinity any further, Sir.” You reply. “I’m sorry you seem to be stuck playing your wife’s desperate, attention seeking games. The two of you should strive to do better.”

“How dare you!” Rylie seethes, but is soon consoled by her husband.

“Shh, Honey, I’ve got this.” He pats her shoulder before rounding on you. His furious expression says it all. “How dare you!”

“Oh, I think we’ve got a pair of parrots on our hands.” Trisha remarks. “Too bad they can’t remember any of the important lessons.”

“Yeah, like ‘final strike and you’re out.’” Kamille hums, shooting the two of them a pointed look.

“Like hell you can kick us out of this town.” The male spits, brow creased as his face begins to turn bright red in anger.

“We can, and we will.” Trisha replies almost instantly, no remorse at all in her tone. “We’ve already warned you sufficiently. Please do not make us mad. You will not like what happens.”

“Are you threatening me?” He straightens, hands balling into fists at his sides.

You stand calmly to your feet, returning the plate to the counter where you see Nina has managed to doze off. Soft snores fall from her lips, and you spare her a small smile before turning to the couple fuming at the doorway.

“Depends,” you hum, leaning back on the counter as your cross your arms over your chest. “Do you feel threatened?”

“By you?” The man scoffs. “Not likely.”

“You should be.” You smile, and you notice them grimace slightly at how unnerving you suddenly look. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my nieces and nephew are waiting for us to return to the festival.”

Just then, the bell above the door chimes and in walk both Yunho and Yeosang with the children in tow. A white pansy is tucked into Yeosang’s hair, just behind his ear. It seems to have been placed there very carefully so as to display his birthmark, and you just know Minnie probably had something to do with that, seeing as he holds her against his hip. Marcus holds onto Yeosang’s free hand, a yellow daffodil, a pink rose, and a sprig of lilac held in Marcus’ opposite hand. On Yunho’s back rests Delilah, her giggling suddenly cut short as she peeks over his shoulder to observe the tense scene before them.

“Auntie…” Winnie’s worried gaze is suddenly on you, and you notice how Marcus begins to tremble as he looks at the man before him.

“It’s okay, Winnie,” you smile assuringly. “We were just on our way out to meet you when Rylie returned with this fine gentleman here.”

The couple stiffens.

“Bad man.” Marcus begins mumbling, taking a wary step backwards. “You’re a bad man.”

“Don’t worry, Marcus.” You begin to usher both Kamille and Trisha out, you following close behind. “We’re finished here, anyways.”

Marcus immediately clings onto Kamille as she walks passed, Trisha taking Winnie from Yeosang’s hold instantly. You don’t even spare another look at the couple as you exit the bakery, both Yeosang and Yunho observing you carefully.

Only, you don’t manage to get very far outside of the shop.

“Don’t you walk away from me, you bitch.” The man grabs your arm, quite harshly at that.

Two low growls get muffled by the bustling sounds of the festival around you.

“Sir, I recommend you release my arm before you come to regret it.” You state calmly, angling your body away from him as a crowd begins to form around you.

“The only thing I’ll come to regret is not putting your smartass in your place.” He spits, tightening his hold over your arm.

You sigh, shaking your head as you slide you bag off of your opposite arm. “Trish, be a dear and hold my bag.”

Wordlessly, she grabs it from you.

You turn your full attention back to the man in front of you.

“This is your last warning,” you meet his gaze with a dark look of your own and you notice how he falters slightly. “Release me before you lose this hand of yours.”

“Like you could ever harm me.” He guffaws, purposely raising his voice for the now growing crowd.

At the side, both Yunho and Yeosang stand, tense. They can barely keep their eyes from flashing, both males beginning to tremble in rage the longer they observe this scene going on before them.

Faintly, you begin to hear whispers around you, all in defence and worry of you and how often this man seems to pick fights with absolutely anybody.

“I don’t think you’ll enjoy it very much when I knock you flat on your ass.” You comment.

He scoffs, “I’d like to see you try!”

The moment those words are out of his mouth you have him pinned on the ground, a light cloud of dust floating in the air. Your knee digs harshly into the man’s back, his arm twisted unnaturally behind him as you shove his face into the dirt.

Rylie’s hands come up to cover her mouth in shock, a silence settling around the crowd.

“I warned you.” You hum, almost condescendingly at the male beneath you.

A scowl is all you receive in response.

“Normally, I would have broken your hand for touching me, but I think the fact that you’re being kicked out of this village is punishment enough.” You spit quite harshly. “After all, you’ll need all the strength you can get in order to vacate the premises as quickly as possible.”

A moment of silence before a small cheer is erupting from the crowd, murmurs of glee reaching your ears. Many even go so far as to exclaim that this couple’s reign of terror is over.

“You bitch!” Rylie shrieks, running over to attempt to tackle you off of her husband.

Easily, you dodge her, watching as she trips over her husband’s legs and lands in the dirt beside him. Not even a second later, you stand, dusting off your knees all the while.

“Be grateful this is all that you’ve received from me.” You crack your neck, grabbing your bag back from Trisha in one fluid motion. “Now, I don’t want to hear you’ve bothered anyone else ever again, and you better hope I never see your faces around here again. You won’t like what becomes of it, then.”

Slowly, the man pushes himself to his feet, Rylie helping him stand all the while.

“Get back here, cunt!” He bellows, closing the distance between the both of you in a few great bounds and swinging for the back of your head with his fist.

A sickening crunch sounds around the area, followed by a pained filled cry and a high pitched shriek of horror.

Turning reveals Yeosang crushing the man’s fist in his grip, his eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them before turning their natural gold. A snarl paints his lips as the man desperately attempts to break free from Yeosang’s grip, blood beginning to drip slowly into the dirt at the male’s feet.

“If you ever lay a hand on My Fated again,” Yeosang growls, voice ringing out loud and clear through the deadly silence that now surrounds the area. His eyes flash. “I’ll kill you.”

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spdrvyn · 3 months

Text

7 days until valentines

as compensation for my lack of posts, here's a short blurb of miguel with an autistic reader! i'm projecting really hard though

Miguel didn't know where the transition from his to 'our' workspace had begun. It was the little things, you'd leave a small cup with pens in it at his desk without bothering to pick it up after you leave his office. Eventually, that cup became a real pencil holder now you had journals, notebooks, and basically everything that wasn't work related neatly cornered into one part of his desk home with the scattered papers and unfinished gadgets Miguel has.

You also make home at his desk, efficiency was one of your strengths, but your productivity reached maximum capacity whenever you were with him. No words were spoken while the two of you worked, Miguel greatly appreciated it.

Not that he'd mind a little bit of small talk, but he enjoyed silence without feeling like the loneliness was clawing at his insides.

Though normally you (almost inhumanely) finished your work way earlier than he did, but you didn't leave. No, you didn't.

This habit of maintaining his presence while you're off doing something kept even when you were pursuing your own personal interests, Miguel would catch you on your laptop chatting to your friends whenever he had to check something on one of his monitors.

Other times, you'd have headphones on. Listening to music or catching up on one of your shows, your reactions are as muddled as they can be to not disturb. But one moment, he'll look away with you completely deadpan then look back to see your jaw widely agape and pupils blown wide from devastation.

Tonight was no different, if anything more convenient for you because a new episode of this unnamed media just dropped. Admittedly, your expressions and small noises entertained him as he worked. You did try to be discreet, but that super hearing of his could pick up on your small gasps and 'aww's on opposite sides of a workspace.

His concentration is broken when you practically slam your laptop shut, packing your earbuds into their case with an audible snap. You hop off of your place and solemnly walk over to where Miguel is standing, he quirks a brow at you.

Uncharacteristically, you slump your head against his shoulder with the biggest frown he's ever seen you in. "They're not getting back together, Miguel."

"Oh?" maybe feeding into your theatrics wasn't a smart decisions, but analytics dulled in comparison to whatever was going on inside your head. "Who?" he continued to interrogate.

"My only reason for light and happiness, my true inspiration for spreading love and joy across every corner of the multiverse." Miguel rolls his eyes. "Do not give me sass right now, I am so upset."

He genuinely can't tell if you're joking or not, perhaps a mix of both. "I don't get how I'm supposed to sympathize with this ex-couple when I don't even know the title of their story?"

"It's a cartoon. You'll laugh."

"Cartoon or animated?"

You quirk your eyebrow this time. "Huh?"

"I'm asking you, cartoon or animated? There's a difference, animated features aren't always classified as cartoons. Cartoon is more of a term for animated medias directed towards children. Aren't you the one more adept at this topic?"

He looks at you with an almost-smirk. It's teasing at his lips, full and plump. There are many sensations that you hold resentment for, but one you've always wanted experience is Miguel's lips against yours. The ultimate sensory triumph, all you've been waiting for.

God, you want to kiss him.

"Yeah, I- uh, animated. I mean, animated."

"Tell me about it when I'm not trying to keep the world from ending, please?" he grumbles, and you raise your head off of his shoulder. Damn right you'll tell him about it, and probably kiss him after too.

#projecting soo hard #yes i want to be an animation student #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #autistic reader #fluff #romance

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mikareo · 2 months

Text

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ lover, please stay . . . gojo satoru x gn reader

⊹ ⠀⠀ how do you move on, when he never said goodbye? (0.3k)

there's a concept that isn't talked about enough.

the concept of desperately missing someone who likely hasn't thought about you in days...weeks...maybe even months.

it seems silly to miss this kind of person— who disappeared and left you alone to contemplate everything you ever did during your relationship, and let you believe that you were the reason why they walked away. the easiest thing in the world, is to blame yourself for the desolation of love. the easiest thing in the world, is to revisit the good times and analyze every single second. the easiest thing in the world, is to feel your heart reach out for him whilst knowing his arms will never try to hold yours again.

the easiest thing in the world, is to fall in love with satoru gojo...

...and the hardest thing to do, is to let him go.

'i made it into my program!'

the message sits in the text bar. you can't seem to let yourself press that tiny little arrow button, perhaps out of embarrassment or perhaps out of pride. satoru never even replied to your last text. it'd be pathetic to send another, right? desperate. clingy. psychotic. obsessive. no. you won't send it.

you can't.

satoru doesn't want to hear from you. he doesn't want to talk to you. he doesn't want to acknowledge your existence; so why would he want to receive another notification from a phone number that he likely deleted the contact of? stop humiliating yourself.

you wish you could. you really wish you could; but there's no way to erase the memories of him from that deep corner of your heart whose grip is so strong, you can't rip him out. you can't burn the itch in your brain that goes off every afternoon at one o'clock, urging you to dial his number and greet him with a smile. you can't demolish the attachment in your fingertips that wish they could type at a record speed to tell him the smallest details of your day. you can't erase the longing in your body to feel his touch. to hold him. to hug him. to kiss him. to tell him just how much he means to you— even though you mean absolutely nothing to him...

...because if you had meant something...

...he wouldn't have left.

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading, reblogs are greatly appreciated

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blackcoffeeofmelancholy · 7 months

Text

the brothers comfort you during a panic attack

words: 4121

warnings: depictions of anxiety and panic attacks

notes: I'm reuploading my previous work from my old blog, so I have everything in one place. I'm starting with the first piece I wrote for Obey Me. I have a part two with the dateables in my WIPs that I hope to finish one day.

As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Thank you to those who take the time to read and comment on my work; it’s greatly appreciated ♥

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worse. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however, the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your well-being is of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice is low and soothing as he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, provided you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf.

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist at this moment, his gaze never leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers' faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders; one he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the facade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. You even lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue on multiple occasions; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stings. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best efforts to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort no matter how small. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay and know he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies are not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core and make his blood run cold. He should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him. He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffered through hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side than know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin flushed, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy.

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look so miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely breathless, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out an apology. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to.

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced by worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means staying by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together.

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden, he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan grateful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your eyes light up in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground, and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dared to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go unpunished either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has leveled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself, he loves his brothers, but loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices traveling down the hall, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest.

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries around the corner and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed apology, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him.

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable enough to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what; even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

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