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irishmammonagenda · 3 months

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Death is a Debatable Thing-Obey Me x Reader

Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as an angel, as per usual; chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Mention of Death, Cursing, Torture (mentioned, no torture happens) Michael is featured heavily in this, I just made up a personality for him, I don't play NB a lot (it makes me too sad) and I think he shows up there so if this is different to how he's portrayed there then L for me. Everyone except Luke was written as and can be read as Romantic(/platonic if you prefer)You can read Michael as Romantic, but I wrote him more Platonically.

post dividers from @saradika-graphics on tumblr (their dividers r really cool check them out if u havent fr (sorry for tagging you btw i just wanted to give credit)

"Absolutely not." You say, looking at your new found wings. "I did not die just to be reincarnated with the ugliest clothing I've ever seen."

"Would you have preferred to have been reincarnated as bare as Eve was in Eden?" The man you'd come to know as Michael. His dark skin shone in the blessed light of the celestial realm, his thick curly hair was pinned back in such a delicate fashion you wanted to unpin all the ornaments in it. Your fingers twitched at your sides.

"Isn't that against modesty rules or something...?" You paused, Simeon was an angel, he essentially had his ass out at all times anyway. Whore.

Michael stares at you weirdly, before playing with one of the loose strands of his hair, pulling the tight coil until it was completely straight before letting go and letting it spring back up again. Now you really wanted to mess up his hair. Just to annoy him.

"So anyway..." You start, sitting on a cloud that you fall through. For a moment you think you're about to pull a Lucifer and fall through the sky, but you manage to grab onto something and pull yourself up. That something is Michael's ankle and he's laughing at you, wiping a tear from ruby red eyes that shine just like that of his fallen brother.

"Stop laughing at me! Anyway, when can i go to the Devildom?" You inquire, watching Michael's face turn stern. He glares down at where you're lying, still gripping his ankle

"You're not returning to the Devildom anytime soon." He says sharply.

Your breath hitches. "Why not?! I have to let the brothers and Dia and Barbs and Sol and everyone else know I didn't die!"

"You did die. Why do you think you're an angel." Michael sighs, "and no. You're not letting them know you've returned."

"Why not?!" You repeat, outraged. "No offence though MC, but you´ve just died." "So?" You reply with indignation. "So," Michael says in a mocking tone, pitching his deep voice up high before letting it fall down the octaves once more. "You're barely able to walk on clouds or do anything yet. Letting you down to the Devildom is the equivalent of sending a baby bird into a den of lions."

"But...they'd protect me." You said softly, Michael's tone softens as well, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"They'd also over-protect you, they've just lost you. I don't think you're ready for that smothering just after your death."

You nod. Michael's soft expression turns devious, "Plus, this way, you have plenty of time to think about how youre going to scare my broth-...the brothers and everyone else whilst proving you're alive...well an angel..."

You grin too. "Amazing point Mr Michael."

He plays with his golden locks again, an idiosyncracy. "Anytime" He grins before beginning to walk again, you grab onto his ankle tighter. "Oh and Mc?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me Mr Michael again and I'm shaving all you hair off. And trust me. Angel hair does not grow back." He smiles evilly. You shudder.

Well it turns out Michael is a fucking liar.

After being a little bit too bored during your second month of being an angel and first month of learning not to fall through the clouds in Michael's private garden that consists purely of clouds and a singular harp he stole from some poor Irish Deity, you go bored and snipped your unnaturally long angel hair up to your waist. You didn't want to go too short just yet.

In the time frame of a week you learnt two things.

One: Angel hair does grow back, maybe a tiny bit faster than human hair, and Two, Michael was babysitting the harp. Turns out the Deity was called the Dagda and he was visiting France on holidays for some reason, poor man, having to go to France and deal with all the French People there. Turns out he left the harp in Michael's hands, something about Fomoranians not being smart enough to see this one coming.

You just nodded and slowly backed away. Michaels red eyes followed you. He and Lucifer had to be twins.

Another day passed. The more you thought about it, the more Michael and Lucifer had to be twins. After having cut your hair to just below your shoulders, you found a piece of unnecessarily fancy parchment paper and a quill on Michael's desk

Holding the black quill in your hands you felt a sense of familiarity wash over you. Was that?....

No fucking way.

Michael was using one of Lucifer's feathers as a quill. You cackled.

After much deliberation you'd realised you could not write with a quill, but also that you were very good at ripping paper and making blotches of ink on said paper with a quill.

You decided to snoop in Michael's desk for a pen, instead you found a drawer titled, 'LUKE ONLY' in cursive letters, the label was stuck to the drawer so obviously you opened it.

Colouring books, letters written by Luke from the Devildom, Report Cards, Crayons, Drawings, and a pack of stickers were left in the drawer, a notepad lay next to it, Michael's cursive handwriting all over it 'Activities to do', it had things like 'Bowling' and 'Baking' and 'Gardening' and 'Teach him how to knit' and 'Arts and Crafts' and 'Prank Jesus' and 'Take him to Human Realm Cinema' and and anything else really. You cooed, your ivory wings rustling happily.

You grabbed a crayon and began to write.

WHY MICHAEL AND LUCI ARE TWINS one; same eyes two; both evil three; both hot four; satan is basically luci's son if you think about it and michael has blond hair too, if luci and michael are twins that means that blond hair is in the gene pool and thats how satn has blond hair even though luci has black hair five; both like wearing dramatic cape coat things six; both of them baby luke seven; they ha

"What are you doing?" Michael asks, startling you, and ruining your next point of 'they have hands', "Why is my drawer open?" He grabs the parchment from you, reads it and bellows out in laughter.

"We are twins you could've asked." He smiled, "also put the crayon back thats Red and Luke likes colouring in Teddy Bears red."

"Yessir."

You were a master conspiracy theorist.

In the end, you and Michael had decided on visiting the Devildom for 'diplomatic' reasons, but upon seeing the glint in his eyes it was probably more for 'dicklomatic' reasons seeing as he's an utter dickhead.

You had a veil covering your face, seeing as you were still kind of legally and widely believed to be dead.

You know, the usual.

You walked behind Michael, attempting to kick at the back of his knees, it never worked sadly. You took a deep breath as you reached the RAD council room doors.

Michael grabs you by your shoulders whispering into your ear. "Now remember MC im going to use you as a bargaining tool, so keep that veil on till i say so, got it?" He grins.

You nod, knowing that 'bargaining tool' in Michaelish translates to 'im bored and want to see a dramatic reunion'

Michael opens the doors.

You walk in with him but stand at the door awkwardly, steeling yourself so you don't immediately run into any of your idiots' arms.

Luke apparently had the same idea, as when he saw Michael, he let out a happy 'yip!' kind of sound similar to a puppy's and then ran from where he stood beside Simeon and Solomon into the Archangel's arms.

Michael catches him happily, petting his head as the young angel nuzzles into his hair, blabbering on about who knows what. Asmo takes a photo of it, everyone else stares with varying levels of fondness, awkwardness and 'meh'.

Sadly for you however, once Simeon is done greeting Michael, and Michael is now distracted by Luke introducing him to Barbatos who is apparently the 'bestest baker in the world!' (you could agree with that sentiment), Simeon walked over to you, his serene smile on his face.

"Hello, I'm Simeon, forgive me for asking, but do I know you? You have a familiar aura."

You shake your head.

"Oh, never the matter" Simeon smiles, "What's your name then. my friend?"

You clear your throat and put on a deep american accent, "Rupert...Pleasure to meet you...Simeon.."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?"

"Certain." You say in the same ridiculous voice.

Simeon nods, he excuses himself after Solomon calls him over, you turn to glance at Michael who is carrying a now sleeping Luke in his arms and gently stroking the boy's golden hair while stressing out Lucifer with questions. Satan looks on with a smirk on his face.

Glancing around the room you see similar scenes, Mammon and Levi are playing a game on the latter's switch, Asmo, Solomon and Simeon are talking, sometimes glancing at you. Barbatos and Diavolo were watching Michael annoy Lucifer, with both sometimes adding their input, causing Michael to laugh loudly then stiffle it, so as not to wake up the sleeping baby in his arms. Beel and Belphie were near the others but still off in their own twin world, Belphie was awake and watching Michael bully Lucifer from where his head laying sleepily on his twin's leg.

Raphael, Thirteen and Mephisto had been sent out on a top secret mission the day before, Michael had said it was because he didnt want to die and also did not want his death to be put in the RAD Newspapers, especially a picture of him that was less than flattering.

Even though everyone seemed joyous, you noticed an air of sadness, like something was missing. Looking at your old seat in the student council you see the amount of flowers set on it.

Against your better judgement, you walk towards it. Not noticing a few pairs of eyes following you.

When you reach your former desk, you notice a photo of you framed, it was you and everyone, a family photo, everyone was either in their demon, angel or reaper forms, you wore really cheap red horns with a halo you shoved on one of them whilst also wearing an old reaper robe. It looked ridiculous, you loved it.

"Enjoying yourself? Rupert.~" a honeyed voice startles you. Asmo, although, somethings in his voice, maybe anger, maybe suspicion.

"Uhhh.." You say in your fake american accent.

"I'm Asmodeus, avatar of lust.~ Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Guess so." You shrug Americanly, thankful once more the veil covers your whole face.

Asmo's eyes have some hurt in them, he seems...catty, probably because you, who he thinks is a random stranger is just standing at his dead loved one's desk.

You open your mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, especially not when another familiar voice is added to the mix.

"Well hello. I don't believe we've met before. The name's Solomon. You must've heard of me."

Oh shit.

"Oh...I have, briefly! Hello Solomon, my name's Robert." You say in your fake deep american accent voice.

Asmo tilts his head, "I thought your name was Rupert?"

Shit.

"Oh. Yes" You quickly bullshit, "My name's got the hyphens, Robert-Rupert." You avoid eye contact despite the fact you have a veil covering your face that only lets you see out of it, so the sorcerer and demon can't even make eye contact with you, even if they wanted to.

This was getting awkward.

"You seem very familiar Robert-Rupert." Solomon says, you did not like that crafty smile.

"I get that a lot." You nod before walking away.

You walk towards Michael who, has a now awake but sleepy Luke in his arms, he sits on one of the sofas in the council room beside Simeon, with Barbatos, Diavolo and Lucifer facing them on the other sofa. Atleast you'll be safe from Solomon over here. As you walk, you notice Satan, Beel and Belphie have left. Either Lucifer was going to get pranked or Lucifer was going to get pranked but not as prankily because Beel unknowingly made puppy-eyes. Mammon and Levi were bickering quietly in a corner (shocking they could do it quietly) about who won the lat round of Devilio kart.

When Michael saw you approaching he waved you over, beckoning you to sit down in the empty space beside him, "This is an angel I'm currently training, their name is.....Steven."

Simeon tilts his head "I thought their name was Rupert?"

Michael clears his throat awkwardly.

You make your voice the deep horrible American accent, "My full name is Robert-Rupert-Steven...it's hyphenated."

Michael nods aggressively.

Lucifer, Simeon, and Barbatos side-eye eachother. Something was going on here.

"So, Robert-Rupert-Steven," Barbatos begins, his polite smile a little jagged at the edges, "I saw you at MC's desk earlier, how so?"

At the mention of your actual name, everyone there tenses up, Luke, thankfully is too sleepy to have realised, Michael quickly stands up with the small angel in his strong arms, knowing if he heard the conversation about to occur he would be upset, "I should probably go, give this one a walk around to wake him up a little. Simeon, would you like to come with me?"

Simeon nods, Michael and Him leave the council room, with Luke sleepily holding both of their hands and walking slowly along with them.

Now you were stuck with the Prince of the Devildom, the Scary Butler and the Scary Single-Dad. All of which haven't realised that it's you, and all of which thinking you are a random stranger.

"Well, Robert-Rupert-Steven?" Diavolo asks, his friendly demeanor the tiniest bit strange,"What captivated you to go towards MC's desk."

"Who's MC?" You decide to play it dumb. Bad decision, seeing as all three stiffen, Barbatos' being the most unnoticeable.

A very long 3 hour conversation went by, wherein, Diavolo, Lucifer, Barbatos as well as a certain Mammon and Levi who joined 10 minutes in, and an Asmo and Solomon who joined 12 minutes in talked about you, for 3 hours straight.

'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.' was an accurate reprenstation of your mental state actually.

The urge to just rip your veil off right there was almost stronger than the urge to dropkick Maddi anytime you remembered she existed. Keyword being almost.

You just about made it out of the council room with your life. Now for your master plan. Scare the absolute shit out of the Anti-Lucifer-League. That'll get them back for never listening to your amazing prank suggestion of leaving random origami swans around the house in random spots. It was genius!

Breaking into the House of Lamentation was always easy when you knew that Mammon hid his emergency house key behind the garden gnome that now you saw it....kind of looked like a really bad rendition of Michael. With its dark skin, A DnD-esque robe and, a horrible smiley face painted on it, and the worst crime of all, bright yellow, almost neon hair, and also a princess tiara.

You almost cackled.

Taking the key you slowly open the door to the kitchen and sneakily sneak in. Sadly for you, it was they key to the kitchen door to the outside of the back of the house, which meant it opened in the kitchen, and since it opened in the kitchen, you awkwardly waved at Beel, who was having a midnight feast.

Beel tilts his head. "You're the Angel from earlier. What are you doing here?"

You once more, fake your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice and say, "I have Materials for the Anti-Lucifer League as they've suggested."

You are such a good liar.

"Oh," Beel nods, normally he wouldn't let a stranger into the house, but something felt...familiar...and safe with you. "Okay then, do you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

Beel nods, and goes back to eating the pudding labelled 'MAMMONS: BEEL DONT TOUCH THESE'

After much searching, you do not find the Anti-Lucifer-League, but you do unfortunately, open the door to Lucifer's office. The place where Lucifer currently is.

He looks up immediately on guard. You are not prepared to die a second time,

"What are you-" He begins, in demon form and standing up.

You interrupt him, making 'woooooh!' sounds and waving your arms about, and in your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you say "Wooooh! I am the....ghost of christmas past!...Woooh! and I am..." You pause, not noticing your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice has began to slip away, and your natural one has taken its place. "I am here to tell youuuuu.....to woohhhh! Take breaks more! Woooh!....and not overwork yourself! Woooh!"

Lucifer pauses, the danger in his eyes fades into disbelief. He knows that voice. He's spent the better part of a year listening to recordings of that voice and praying to his Father for the first time since the celestial war for that voice to return to him.

"..MC?.."

You've been found out. Quickly you put your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice back on, except it's gone up 12 pitches. "Who's MC?! Haha! What a weird thing to sa-"

You don't get to finish, as Lucifer pulls your veil off. His breath hitches upon seeing your face.

Your covers been blown. All because you pretended to be the ghost of Christmas past. Great.

Lucifer immediately pulls you into a hug, arms tightening around you, as if he's afraid you'd disappear. He chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes, his frame shakes. "I thought-thought I'd lost you forever...I always thought your face was angelic...-...it's fitting."

You hug him just as tightly.

But ever the menace, after about an hour or so, you look up at the Avatar of Pride, "Say, Luci?"

"Yes, my dove?"

"Wanna help me prank the rest of them?"

"Perhaps...I might help with...some setups..." He pauses, "You are telling Barbatos outright though."

You shudder. "Of course I am. I don't have a second deathwish."

Lucifer's grip on you tightens slightly, you kiss his cheek in apology. "Sorry," You grin, "Too soon?"

"Try again in another century dear."

The next day, the first thing you and Lucifer do is travel to the Demon Lord´s Castle.

Barbatos greets you in the Entrance Hall, "Oh, Lucifer," He nods in greeting at the eldest of the brothers (second eldest actually, seeing as Michael enjoys bragging that he's older by a whopping total of 2 minutes) he turns to you, who put the veil back on, "And Robert-Rupert-Steven, Welcome to the Demon Lord's Castle, although, I must ask, why you have shown up today?"

In your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you accidentally, against your better judgement, and rather impulsively state; "I'm here to assassinate Dia-...volo."

A portal opens, dragging you through it, and you land in the feared rumoured dungeons. Barbatos follows gracefully, now in Demon Form. Leaving a sighing Lucifer in his wake in the Entrance Hall. He decides to just journey to Diavolo's office and discuss things related to work. Barbatos wouldn't hurt you when he found out it was you so he really had nothing to worry about. Maybe you'd finally learn to stop joking about assassinating Diavolo, especally when other Noble Demons were around at Balls.

Sadly for you, you were now alone in Barbatos' Dungeons. Now what's scarier than being alone in Barbatos' Dungeons? Being alone with Barbatos in Barbatos' dungeons.

Time to run away.

As it turns out, running away isn't very easy when magic chains pin you to the wall. In your panic, you blurt out, "You know, I'd rather you pin me to the wall haha!" in your normal voice. The fear forcing your horrible puns and jokes to slip out.

Barbatos, who had been approaching menacingly calmly with a torture device pauses so fast it gives you whiplash. (Better than getting whiplash from the whip he was previously holding.)

In some display akin to a cockroach kind of squirming about after you crush it, in your chained up state you manage to twitch enough that you were able to pinch a piece of your veil's fabric just enough that it falls to the ground.

Immediately, the magic chains fall away, strong arms catch you as you stumble. "Hi Barbs..." You say breathlessly.

Barbatos looks like he'd seen a ghost. (You were an Angel, thank you very much.) After your death he had tried and tried to pull a you from another dimension. It would never work, some force stopped him each time. (To be fair, it was probably your jealous ass. No way in Diavolo were you being replaced by yourself from another dimension.)

His bottom lip trembles, much like the rest of his body, as he leans in, "May I, my dear?" You nod, giving him your consent as he kisses you so gently, as if he feared you would break or fade away.

He murmurs apology upon apology for the fact he had no doubt frightened you, he couldn't risk a threat to Diavolo, your 'death' had left him a little...tethered and emotional.

You close your eyes and kiss him again, now noticing you're in the kitchens and not in the spooky scary dungeon.

"Wanna bake cookies? Like we always used to do?"

Barbatos nods softly. "You do have to tell Lord Diavolo you're actually alive though, little lamb."

Your eyes light up. "We could make a cake! And hide me inside it!"

Barbatos sighs, but looking at your puppy eyes, he agrees. Gently he picks a stray ivory feather from your wings, making them rustle at the touch. Devil...you looked angelic.

Baking with Barbatos was always fun, but sadly he did not agree with your attempt at throwing flour at him.

"MC?" He catches your attention, bringing an ungloved hand to caress your face, "Have I ever told you that you shine brighter than all the stars in the Devildom?"

You blush and try to cover your face when he turns away to add more eggs into your batter only to find flour on your face. That sneaky bastard! Psychological warfare is illegal. And that sure felt like it.

It was on.

Apparently it was only on for you though. Though you did get a speck of flour on Barbatos' apron. That was a win, especially if you ignore the fact that your face and apron were covered in the white powder, which you were ignoring! So take that Barbatos!

In the end, the cake was beautiful, Barbatos helped you into the cake, and cut out a you shaped hole out of the layers made.

He then helped you out again, and the Flour War began again only this time with icing.

Hiding in a cake is quite a fun experience. Especially when you can take bites of your hiding space. Yum yum.

You feel Barbatos' wheeling of you stop as he reaches Diavolo's office, he knocks on the door, and as you requested, begins to film on his DDD (you had to promise the video would never get out of your hands.)

Diavolo sat alone, Lucifer had had to leave an hour before, Beel had went on a rampage in Hell's Kitchen again apparently.

"My Lord, I feel you have been feeling down, so here is a treat." Barbatos says, "And as a special treat, I will allow you to cut it yourself." He nods at Diavolo who you can just picture has stars in his eyes as you hear the demon butler walk to a corner of the room, still filming.

Diavolo brings the knife to the cake, as it cuts into it, you grab the blade and pull it forward. Upon hearing Divaolo's confused murmurs, You peek through the tiny hole the knife made, seeing Diavolo distracted, tilting his head like a child and asking Barbatos what he should do now.

You however know what you should do now.

Quick as a flash, you shove your hands through the cake, reach for Diavolo's arms and pull him in face first.

You didn't even care if it was probably treason. Diavolo's suprised screaming and Barbatos' slight surprised chuckle was so worth it.

It was worth it for Diavolo even after 4 hours, as he held you in his big arms, whilst the both of you were still covered in cake. Barbatos, the traitor, snapped photos of this and sent them to Lucifer.

On a great note, Diavolo agreed to help prank the rest of the brothers with you, much to Barbatos' dismay. (The butler was definitely going to help you with a certain sorcerer, however)

After a night and day at the castle and a very extensive bath, you recollected your veil, and snuck out (read: Barbatos and Diavolo waved goodbye to you and gave you some left over cake for the journey home) of the castle, you began your walk to Purgatory Hall.

Michael was staying there, and you needed to tell him everyone's reactions so far.

It was also a Saturday, meaning that Solomon would be out in Sorcerer's society meetings all night and morning.

When you got there you made use of the tree there and climbed up it until you saw something in Luke's room. You paused your climbing and looked in through the window.

Two figures were in the Young Angel's room.

As Luke lay tucked in in his bed, cuddling the dog plushie that Mammon had given him at a carnival last year that he claims to have thrown away, Michael and Simeon sat on his bed, the nightlight on the boy's bedside table created a gentle glow that the two elder were using to read the storybook strew across both of their laps aloud, they appeared to be acting it out ever so slightly. When Luke finally drifted off. Both Angels kissed his forehead then dimmed the nightlight down slightly, dim enough where it wouldn't hurt the boy's eyes but bright enough that the dark wouldn't scare him if he woke up in the middle of the night, keeping the curtains open for added light.

You cooed silently, your white wings rustling.

Snapping out of it, you scale across the wall before finding the spare room Michael was staying in and breaking in.

"Hello Motherfucker." You greet the Archangel.

"You couldn't pay me to fuck your mother."

"Harsh. And here I was about to tell you my escapades..." You sigh dramatically. Michael immediately smiles sweetly. Buttering you up. You cave.

After about an hour of Michael laughing at you specifically, and then changing your contact to 'ghost of christmas past' the bastard finally fell asleep.

Feeling thirsty, you snuck downstairs into the kitchen to get a drink, and also a sharpie so you could draw a mustache on Michael's face. Not bothering to put your veil on seeing as no one would be awake anyway.

As you filled up a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter drinking it, lost in your own plans, mainly of who to prank nest and how to do it.

You don't hear the little pitter-patter of feet until it's too late.

"MC?" A sleepy Luke stands in the doorway in cat themed pajamas no doubt gifted to him by a certain someone, he holds his dog plush loosely as he rubs his eyes with a tiny fist.

He walks slowly towards the cupboard, pouting sleepily when he realises he can't reach it, you immediately grab his favourite mug,(the one with the red tractor on it) knowing to put milk and some sugar in it before placing it in the microwave for 2 minutes.

Luke walks over to you still half asleep, resting his face on your side, you bring him in for a hug. "Simeon said you went to a happy place after you left, he always got sad when I asked when you were coming home..."

You bite your lip and speak softly, "My flight got delayed for a little while," You lie. Luke didn't need to know you died, Simeon hadn't told him in the best of ways to shield the young boy, that worked out in your favour.

You catch the microwave before it beeps, taking the warm milk out and stirring the hot-spots out of it before handing it to Luke. With his teddy now in the crook of his elbow, he sleepily took the mug before putting his tiny hand in yours.

"C'mon Luke, let's get you back to bed." You say softly, he nods tiredly.

"Will you tuck me in? And read me a bedtime story?" He yawns quietly.

"Of course."

After closing his curtains and tucking Luke in, he snuggles up to you and you read him a bedtime story, after drinking his warm milk, he falls asleep quite quickly, so do you.

A mistake, really. Seeing as in the morning when Simeon comes in to wake the small angel up and sees you there he lets out a shriek very out-of-character for him.

A shriek which wakes both you and Luke up.

Luke smiles toothily, "Oh Simeon! MC came back last night! Did you not see?"

Simeon collects himself, "I must've been asleep Luke, why don't you get dressed then come down for breakfast? Michael and I made pancakes. M-MC, why don't you come downstairs now?"

Luke nods and gets up dutifully.

As soon as you leave the room and Simeon is sure you're both out of the earshot of Luke, he pulls you into a hug which you return.

"I thought I'd lost you.." He breathes out softly.

"Me? C'mon Simmy...you know I'd never let death keep me." You laugh, he laughs breathlessly.

"I suppose not...." He captures your lips in a soft innocent kiss before leading you downstairs, hand-in-hand.

When Michael sees the two of you he offers you a pancake, far too casually for Simeon's taste.

Simeon looks between the two of you and glares at Michael. "You knew about this."

"Haha! Funny story actually! I need to go help Jesus! He's gone and ventured into another desert!" Michael laughs nervously before booking it, only coming back when Luke appears, knowing then he's safe from Simeon's wrath....

....for now.

You took out your super serious napkin and crayon that you stole from Diavolo (read: Diavolo gave you) and crossed out Simeon's name.

Your list was now as follows:

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

For Satan and Belphie, you could knock out two Anti-Lucifer-League Birds with one stone. It felt a little mean to prank prank Levi and Beel...Mammon and Asmo were debatable, but you were going all out on Solomon. That'll teach him to turn you into a sheep that one time 2 years ago.

After careful deliberation and planning, (20 seconds of thinking.) You'd decided to sneak into the Sorceror's society and jokingly attempt to assassinate Solomon, and maybe fully assassinate Maddi if she was there. Not maybe, definitely.

Veil over your head, you walked in, when the sorcerer guards stopped you, you just pretended to be Michael then walked further in. Apparently they were terrified of the Archangel. Damn this society needs better sorcerers securitying it.

After stealing schedules you realised Solomon would be in a meeting right now with a bunch of no names. Oh well.

You crept into the meeting and attempted to plunge the butter knife Barbatos' gave you from the castle kitchens specifically for this in his neck, knowing he'd dodge. "This is for the Sheep Potion you Rat Bastard!" You screech like a Bean Sídhe. After half a millisecond of shock and slight anger, Solomon realises who it is behind the veil, laughing he grabs the arm you're holding the butter knife in and drags you into his lap, gently ripping the veil off of you and giving you a peck on the forehead, before he turns to the shocked and slack-jawed sorcerers that looked older than he did. "Sorry all, my adorable partner," He puncuates the word partner by pulling you closer to him, "missed me a little too much. and has-" He kisses you on the lips passionately for a moment, leaving you very much breathless and him very much chuckling, "-strange ways of showing their affection."

Bastard.

Some time into the meeting you whisper, "How are you not more shocked?"

"Well Robert-Rupert," He whispers teasingly back to you, "Remember that binding spell we did back when you were alive? It never broke. I knew the moment I saw you."

Your heart stops. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"I debated telling Asmo, but I suppose you wanted to on your own terms." He teases.

"I should've tried to stab you with a sharper knife."

Solomon laughs, "Oh and MC my love?"

"Hmm?"

His eyes glint predatorily, "You look absolutely ravishing as an angel. I can't help but want to corrupt you..."

You bury your face in his chest to hide your blush.

Bastard.

On the bright side, now a rumour that Solomon the Wise and Michael the Archangel are secret lovers has spread around the Devildom. You're counting that as a win.

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

After your encounter with Solomon, you'd decided learning to just hide your angel form was the best course of action. Luckily it was fucking easy and you could've done it ages ago. Strange how Simeon and Luke never mentioned it....meh. You're pretty sure Luke just thought Michael thought you were super cool so he made you an angel. You weren't telling him anything otherwise.

´Satan and Belphie watch your fucking backs.´ was the pedal note of all your thoughts currently, you´d snuck back into the House of Lamentation, thankfully Beel was not in the kitchen, he was at Fangol at this hour.

Walking through the halls stealthily, you heard whispers as two sets of feet seemed to enter the room at the farthest end of the hallway. Lucifer´s room.

You fucking caught them.

No time to be caught in Lucifer´s room, seeing as if you were there long enough and Lucifer caught you, you would not be leaving for a good while.

So you crept up to the attic, the official Anti-Lucifer-League headquarters, you climbed the pillars to get on the roof and you waited.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, snickering could be heard coming up to the attic. Satan opens the door, letting Belphie in, both brothers in various fits of sniggering as they walk into the room.

"He'll never see this one coming!" "This is our best one yet."

From your place on the attic ceiling, you spot Lucifer filming on his DDD from the shadows of the doorway. Of course he found out about this.

"Of course it's our best one yet!"

You swing down off of the ceiling beam, swinging lightly upside down. "And you didn't invite me?" You pout.

Satan and Belphie scream, clutching onto eachother, before noticing that it's you and running to pull you down and clutch onto you instead. You notice Lucifer chuckle and put his DDD in his pocket before leaving. Traitor.

You cuddle into your two Anti-Lucifer League Brethren, maybe this wasn't so bad. (Of course it wasn't, you loved your idiots.)

Safe to say, you didn't leave the attic for a long time. Apparently people need time to process that you're not actually dead. What madness.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

You had long unentangled yourself with a sleeping Belphie and Satan, making sure to leave a:

it wasnt a dream dont worry lads im alive.

note on their chests just in case.

Sitting in the attic with your napkin and crayon in hand, you ripped the Purgatory Hall part off of it and used the back of it for that note, you scanned through the list. You should save your First Man for last, so your next options were Beel, Asmo and Levi.

Seeing as you've shown yourself to Belphie, it's only natural your gentle giant is next.

Watch your fucking back Beel. Literally

Speaking of, it's been a few hours, Beel should be coming back from Fangol practice any moment now.

As was routine at this point, you crept through the House of Lamentation's halls and quickly ran into Beel and Belphie's shared bedroom.

As Beel walked into the room, his Fangol bag slung across his chest and a pile of after Fangol snacks in his hands, you braced yourself, made a run for it, anf landed right square on his back, arms around his neck to keep from falling.

"Oh hi MC!" Beel hummed cheerfully, before his eyes widened and he dropped his snacks. "MC?!"

"Hi!"

Quick as a flash, Beel maneuvers himself in 'dying cockroach you in Barbatos' dungeons part two' and grabs you into his arms.

"I thought you died..." He said, smelling your hair as he cuddled you.

"I did. I just came back as an angel."

"Really?" His breath hitches, "Can I see?.."

You take a deep breath and your wings and halo pop out, he strokes them gently.

"You're beautiful..." He whispers, enraptured...."I think...out of all of Father's creations over the years since the celestial war...you're the most precious...."

He speaks softly, always the gentle giant, the moment lasts for just a moment, before the moment, like all moments do, has passed. Beel's stomach rumbles and you giggle.

"You should eat your snacks, Beelie.."

"They always taste better when we share." He nods seriously.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

Levi or Asmo? You bit your crayon in thought then immediately made a face. Crayons did not taste nice.

Speaking of things that did not taste nice, you remembered that one time you tried to eat Levi's controller because you were bored.

Levi it was!

You had to time this perfectly, waiting in the shadows until Levi went down to get a snack, you snuck into his room, saying the answer to his password out of pure habit, before sitting on his gamer chair and maneuvering it in such a way he would not be able to see anyone on it from the door.

When Levi walked into his room, a bag of crisps in hand, he took a few steps before you swung around "Boo!" and he screamed. Dropping his crisps.

After convincing him you were infact not a ghost (Unlike Lucifer's), you sat with him in your arms, watching anime, and getting caught up on the new episodes released.

You cuddled up to him in his bathtub that night. You grinned evilly. This gave you an idea.

House of Lamentation Mammon LeviSatan Asmo Beel Belphie

It was no secret that Asmo bathed a lot. Funfact, Angels can hold their breath for 30 minutes!

As Asmo was busy picking out which pajamas he wanted to wear after his bath, you tiptoed behind him and slowly got in his bath, hiding under the bubbles.

It took a total of five minutes before Asmo closed the door to his bathroom and got into his bath, this was your chance! Reaching out, you grabbed his foot and pulled him under.

He screeched, when got back above the surface of the water, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over.

He squealed this time, hugging you tightly.

"Oh MC darling!~ I thought you were...well never the matter~...." He punctuated each word by kissing your face all over, leaving you squirming in his grasp out of embarassment. "How naughty!~ Sneaking into my bath like that...~...not that you arent always welcome my lovely!~"

"A-asmo," You say, your clothes soaked, though you couldn't find yourself caring. "Asmo, I love you..." your voice is soft and the Avatar of Lust coos.

It was a nice night.

Time for your final victim. Your First Man. Feeling nice, you decided not to do something too mean.

Painstakingly, you made a trial of grimm from the front door to your First Man's room, more specifically; to his bed. The plan was to hide behind the door and jumpscare him while he was busy collecting the grimm.

Unfortunately for you, seeing as you weren't sure when Mammon got off his modelling shift, you'd finished far too early, and since you and Asmo were up the entire night, you were quite sleepy.

Surely a little 5 minute nap wouldnt hurt?

You woke up hours later to a sobbing Mammon on top of you, cuddling you in his arms like his life depended on it. It seems you'd falled asleep on his bed, more specifically in his nest.

In the nest you would normally sleep in while alive. (While Human technically, seeing as you are alive, just not human.)

You bring a hand to his snowy locks, he sobs harder. Like his brother, kissing all over your face softly, "Thought I lost ye' forever Hum'n" he gasps for air, his sobs quieting down, "Though' you were gone....I prayed ev'ry nigh'...." he says, voice barely above a whisper as he strokes your cheek, looking into your eyes. "I prayed ta Fath'r ev'ry nigh' since ye' died...that he'd bring ye' back te me...."

"And he did..." You say just as softly, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes, sharing a soft kiss with him. As always, your greedy lovable bastard would want more, and you'd want nothing more than to give them to him.

And the next day when you told Michael you'd be staying in the Devildom he cheered, then told you to include him in this 'Anti-Lucifer League business' because it 'seemed fun'.

Wow. Now you knew where Satan got it from. Poor Lucifer, he just barely got away from Michael in the Celestial realm, and now he has to deal with Michael 2.0 in the Devildom.

Satan and Michael really were kind of similar....maybe it's a good thing they've only met in passing.

Moral of the story kids. Death sucks, don't do it. If you do do it, reincarnate. Bam! Problem Solved.

This is the longest ever fic I've ever wrote and probably does not make a lot of sense so I apologise for that. I also apologise for any ooc behaviour i'm still learning how to write characterisation😔✊

also i love thinking of Michael being a father figure to Luke and its very obvious

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Text

(y/n) comforting her husband Gojo after he was forced to kill his best friend

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1k

Synopsis: The man who seems goofy all day, who never takes anything serious breaks down in his wife's arms after he killed his best friend.

Warning: hurt/comfort, death of Suguru, just a lil oneshot from that anon request I received yesterday, like/comment/reblog if you enjoy <3

„Satoru“, you whisper softly into the night, his frame standing in the door of your shared apartment.

You weren’t able to get there on time, to be there for him when he needed you the most. While you were out there fighting curses, Satoru was forced to kill his best friend. Why? Why does he have to endure this never-ending pain, the torture of being the strongest? Wasn’t it enough that he lost his best friend? Why on earth did all of this happen? You can't even imagine how horrible he must feel.

“Oh, hey babe! Hope you’re doing fine!”, he greets you with a wide smile, his blindfold hiding the pain in his bright blue orbs from the world.

You can feel your heart shatter inside your chest. He is never able to be sad, never able to show how he truly feels. Not even when he’s alone with you, his wife, he lets go of his façade. And while you were always able to accept the stinging fact that he’ll never let you see everything, this doesn’t seem to be enough tonight.

“How are you feeling?”

He simply shrugs his shoulders while letting himself drop onto the couch next to you casually.

“Definitely better than the rest. Damn, have you seen how beat up the kids were? Oh, do you remember that one curse who-“

“Satoru”, you interrupt him softly.

Gently, you caress his cheek the way he always loves, watching as the wide grin on his face disappears with every skilled stroke of your hand.

“You know that this wasn’t what I meant.”

He lets out his breath, body suddenly so firm against your touch that he seems to tense every muscle in his body.

“So there’s really no way out of this conversation, huh?”, he mumbles.

The man right in front of you isn’t the Gojo Satoru everyone loves and curses at the same time. No, at the moment he isn’t the strongest, the teacher, the savior.

At the moment he’s just Satoru.

“Come on, take that mask off.”

Gradually, your fingers open the knot of his blindfold. You wait a second, give him the chance to protest against your actions. But when he stays silent, you slide his blindfold off his gorgeous face, revealing the heaviest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I’m tired, (y/n). I’m so damn tired”, he finally gives in with low voice.

You have to swallow hard, concentrate all your composure on not breaking down and cry. His eyes don’t shine as bright as they usual do, the dark circles showing more than urgently that Satoru is far beyond being exhausted.

“I still don’t get why he did all that shit, why he had to die today”, he continues, resting his head against the couch while plainly staring at the ceiling.

“And that I’m the one who finished him. He’s my best friend, (y/n). The one and only…”

“None of this is your fault-“

“Is it really, though? I should have been more attentive back then, should have been there for him, I-“

“This is not your fault”, you insist.

No, you simply can't allow him to talk about himself like this, to load even more responsibitly on his very own shoulders.

“Who says he wouldn’t have chosen this path even with you by his side? Who says you would have been able to stop him? Suguru was surrounded by friends and horror, had multiple chances to change his mind. He knew that this would happen someday, he was ready to die for this. None of this will ever be your fault, Satoru.”

“And what about all the others? Yuta, Maki, Toge and Panda almost getting killed, Haibara, the countless sorcerers who lost their lives. All these non-jujutsu sorcerers who died because of me. How long will it go on like this? And what if I’ll snap just like Suguru did? I…I can’t do this anymore.”

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes on the brink of overflowing with tears. Never in your life have you seen your husband this vulnerable, brought down by life itself. And the worst is that you can’t help him. No, there are no word that could take away his pain. There are no words to comfort him over his best friends’ death, over the countless other people who died because he’s alive.

“There is nothing I can say to cheer you up”, you finally admit.

Gently, you sit on your knees and bend over him, hands cupping his cheeks.

“But even though you don’t deserve this, even though you feel like you’re worthless I want you to remember that you are loved. Haibara loved you, Suguru loved you until the very end and I do. I will love through no matter what, I’ll stay right here by your side through it all. You don’t have to hide your tears from me, you don’t have to pretend that you’re fine when you’re far away from being fine.”

“I’m not, (y/n). I’m so far away from fine that I feel like I’ll never be happy again”, he mutters with trembling lips.

Just before a tear falls down his cheek you catch it with your finger.

“And it is more than natural to feel this way”, you reply softly.

“Do you think…Do you think he was my friend until the end?”

“Oh, he definitely was. Even though you didn’t have the same opinion, Suguru will always be your friend.”

He gifts you a small smile when another wave of tears haunts him.

“Can you hold me please?”

Your husband doesn’t have to ask twice. You let yourself fall against his chest, caress the back of his head while he swallows you with his arms, presses you firmly against his body while crying his heart out.

“I love you, (y/n). God, I love you so much”, he mutters against your neck, covers you with tiny kisses until you don’t know how to breathe anymore.

“I love you too, babe. Let’s just stay here for a while.”

“Yeah. Staying here sounds good…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo #geto #satoru #jjk fanfic

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happilyhertale · 1 year

Text

Destiny is all - Osferth x female!reader, Part 1

Summary: You are Finan's sister. You live in a village in Scotland, near the border with Northumbria. You lead a quiet life until your brother decides to visit you with his boys and your life changes completely.

Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader

Author’s note: Hey you (:

Now I am finally sharing my little Osferth story with you. The events are a little different from the story in the series. (No, Osferth will not die either). I hope you will enjoy it! English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.2 k

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Other stories of mine

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The sun, which has been high in the sky all day, is slowly tilting towards the earth. Four men ride silently side by side. Every now and then an exhausted grunt can be heard. As soon as the grunt is silenced, it is usually answered with another grunt. They have been riding like this for days now. Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric and Osferth are on their way from the northernmost point in Scotland back to Wessex.

The men are exhausted by the long distance they have already covered on horseback. The not very restful nights they have already spent in various forests do not diminish their exhaustion.

"Lord. We could spend the night in a village today," Finan says after another grunt.

Uhtred turns slightly in Finan's direction, "If we ride through the night, we should be in Northumbria by tomorrow"

"But Lord… We should stop and rest. I'm tired of the sight of my horse's head... his ears in particular," Osferth chimes in.

Sihtric turns to Uhtred as well, "I wouldn't say no either"

Osferth continues to nod in agreement.

Uhtred sighs, "Very well… The next village is headed for"

"We would have a place to sleep there for sure too," Finan says to Uhtred with a grin. Uhtred sees Finan's grin and becomes curious.

"Do you have a sweetheart up here?" asks Uhtred with raised eyebrows.

"Not exactly. My family lives there and we could sleep and eat there"

"What? I thought you were from Ireland," Osferth looks at him questioningly.

Finan nods, "We're originally from Ireland. But my parents moved over with me and my sister"

Uhtred just shakes his head with a smile.

The men rode on again in silence. Every now and then a grunt can be heard. But it was a done deal, they were on their way to Finan's family.

You stand in front of your little house. The evening sun shines on your face and you enjoy it. You close your eyes for a moment. Your little house is located on the edge of a village, near the forest. You enjoy the peace and quiet that the location offers you, and that you can let your gaze wander into the forest at any time as soon as the hustle and bustle of the village becomes too much for you. Slowly you open your eyes again and take a deep breath. You still want to water the flower bed before you retire for the evening. As you put the bucket down, you hear noises in the forest behind you. You turn around, but in the twilight you can't really see if anyone is there. Out of habit, you reach for the dagger tucked under the skirt of your dress.

"Who is there?" you ask in a firm voice.

But instead of an answer, you only hear the rustling of the bushes at the edge of the forest.

Suddenly a Dane steps out of the forest and you instinctively hold up your dagger. You are ready to defend yourself. Your breath catches in your throat, but the Dane just grins at you. "Finan! I didn't know that your parents can also produce something beautiful", the Dane says.

Finan? How does he know your brother...?

"Aye! Lord! Shut up!", Finan suddenly stands next to the Dane. Your lungs fill with air again as you see your brother smiling at you from a short distance away.

You don't hesitate for long. "Finan!" you shout and run towards him. You throw your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms tightly around you.

"Heey... my little one," he says softly and presses you closer to him.

You sob a little. He loosens the embrace and takes your face in his hands, "Ey... y/n.... If I had known ya missed me so much, I would have stopped by sooner," he smiles at you. You wipe tears from your face and have to laugh for a moment.

"What are ya doing here?" you finally ask your brother.

"We're just passing through and I thought we were due for a visit"

Only now do you become aware and remember the Dane. But when you look behind Finan, you see two other men standing there. But your gaze immediately falls on the blond monk. However, he immediately averts his gaze from you when he realises that he has been caught staring. Now you notice another Dane. Somehow you seem to like this mixture of the troupe. Finan turns around as well, "Sorry y/n. This is Uhtred, Sihtric and our baby Monk, Osferth"

You notice the monk giving Finan a warning look. The Danes, on the other hand, give you a friendly nod. Finan turns back to you, "Where are mother and father? Are they in the house? We are starving!" Finan is all euphoric.

You gently touch his forearm, "Finan...", you speak softly. He looks at you, but you only shake your head slightly.

"What...?" he whispers, sadness crossing his face.

"The fever took them last winter... First mother, then father..." you whisper.

He shakes his head slightly now too and you wrap your arms around him. After a short silence, you hear Finan murmur into your hair, "You're here all alone?"

You nod, "That must be enough for you now"

He just nods slowly and you can still see the sadness in his face.

You smile up at him, "Come, let's go into the house... I've put on some soup"

Together you go into the house. The men sit down at the table and you serve them the soup. There is not much talking at first, as they simply enjoy the warm meal. When they have finished, you prepare ale for everyone. Light conversation now fills the room. Osferth tries to comfort Finan, to say something nice about your parents. But Finan doesn't want to hear about it at the moment. After a while you take the dagger, which is again under your skirt and presses uncomfortably against your thigh, and put it on the table.

"Feisty... You always carry a dagger with you?", the Dane, Uhtred asks you. You look at him a little amused, "Men sometimes don't understand what 'no' means. So it can't hurt to have something with you to back up your opinion"

Uhtred grins and raises his cup "I'm afraid that's true"

You grin at him and join him in a toast.

When there is a knock at the door, you get up and go over. You open the door and your good mood is immediately dampened.

"Edward... what do ya want here?" you ask, a little annoyed. Alarmed by your tone, Finan looks at the door. From the door, there is no view of the table and so Edward does not notice that he is now being overheard by four guys.

"Y/n... I thought... maybe you'd like some company tonight...?"

He is visibly drunk and grinning at you.

"No, Edward. I told you the other day that it wasn't going to happen again"

Finan's expression darkens.

"Oh come on... Don't you miss it...?" he winks at you.

"What would she miss?"

You startle a little as Finan suddenly stands behind you. Edward looks startled too and just stammers around. Words like "nothing" and "just making sure everything is okay" leave his mouth.

"Good. And do not worry, everything is fine here," Finan lets Edward know as he closes the door.

You look at him indignantly, "Finan! I can handle it myself!"

He just walks back to the table and takes a big gulp of ale. You stand in the room a little speechless. You look at Finan and shoot daggers at him. But Finan continues to stand with his back to you and does not look at you.

Sihtric and Uhtred just grin and look at each other. But you notice Osferth looking at you again. He is probably shocked that a woman would seek the company of a man even though she is not married. You sigh softly and go back to the table. You sit down and shake your head slightly.

Finan looks at you again, "What...? You're my sister. I'll always look out for ya. And... the last time I was here, ya liked Edward, didn't ya?"

"I did," you emphasise, "Until I found him between another woman's thighs"

Osferth chokes on his ale and you look at him somewhat amused. He has to grin now, too, and he wipes the ale running down his chin with his hand. You have to chuckle a little, but somehow you like the sight.

But Finan turns your attention back to himself, "He did what? That bastard... Let me go to him..." Finan is about to get up, but you pull him down by his arm.

"No... There's no need for that. That's done and in the past. Really," you smile at him, but Finan doesn't really look convinced.

He just grumbles something to himself and drinks from his ale. You stroke his arm gently.

The later the hour gets, the louder the conversations become. You laugh a lot and talk to each other across the table. You enjoy having your brother and his friends with you. At some point, Uhtred has persuaded you to show him how you can defend yourself against men with your hands if you don't have your dagger with you. But it always ends up with Uhtred putting his arm around your neck from behind or you just giggle and somehow try to bring Uhtred down.

Eventually you sit down at the table again. You are still a little out of breath when Osferth, who is now sitting next to you, addresses you directly, "Lady... isn't it dangerous for a woman to live here alone?"

Uhtred interjects, "Well... if the possible attacker just stands still and doesn't fight back, then y/n has a chance to defend herself," Uhtred grins at you.

But you do not answer Uhtred, instead you kick him under the table.

Uhtred laughs as you turn back to Osferth, smiling.

You look at him curiously now, "Would it be safer for a woman somewhere else?"

He scratches the back of his neck, "Well... if you were at least in company... and there was no Edward lurking outside your door"

You have to chuckle a little and notice a smile forming around his lips too as it dawns on you. "Ooh yes! I'll come with ya"

Now Finan chokes on his ale and Uhtred grins again. As he calms down, he looks at you, "No way. You're safer here than being out with us"

"Finan!" you utter indignantly, but he just shakes his head.

When Sihtric speaks up, "Honestly, she's probably safer with the four of us. There's no one here to look after her"

Uhtred nods slowly in conviction.

"And if we go into battle?", Finan looks slightly overwhelmed.

"Then of course I won't be there. Then I'll cook you dinner in the meantime... Or keep the bed warm," you answer with a grin. As a sister, you know what drives Finan up the wall.

He gives you a warning look and continues to shake his head, "That's not funny... and that's out of the question"

He stands up and goes outside to pee.

Now you shake your head and stand up.

"Guys... It's late... I'm going to sleep now. This will not end well here otherwise"

Sihtric and Uhtred nod at you. Osferth smiles slightly at you, "Good night lady y/n" and you return his smile.

When Finan returns, he sees that you have gone to bed. He sighs and sits back down at the table with the boys. Uhtred's gaze is on Finan, "You know it would be the right decision. She's here all alone, and I'm sure Edward's not the only one knocking on her door"

Finan gives him a warning look.

"I'm just saying. Your parents aren't here anymore, she has no one here to look after her. And with us, she'd have four men by her side looking after her", Uhtred continues

Silence now reigns at the table as the boys continue to drink their ale. Until Finan just nods and gets up from the table again. "Okay... But if even one of ya tries to hit on my sister..." he adds warningly before disappearing into an adjacent room.

The next morning you come out of your chamber. Three men lie on furs on the floor. Light snoring fills the room. You leave the house and go into the garden behind it. Everything is still quiet, a few birds are chirping. You watch as the sun slowly rises and makes the shadows of the forest look less threatening.

Suddenly Finan is standing next to you. You are startled and flinch briefly.

"Holy Lord! Finan!", you lightly punch his arm. He says nothing, but smiles slightly. He also looks in the direction of the sunrise.

"Ya can come with us. Although I know it's dangerous for ya to accompany us... But I also have to admit that it's probably more dangerous for ya to stay here alone..."

You smile at him.

Slowly he looks in your direction, "Ya have to listen to me though"

You grin at him, "I never have Finan"

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Tag list

@aemonds-wifey @hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemond-targaryenx @praline357 @chainsawsangel

#osferth #osferth x y/n #osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth smut #osferth tlk #baby monk #the last kingdom #seven kings must die #osferth imagine #osferth the last kingdom #osferth fanfic #uhtred of bebbanburg #finan tlk #sihtric #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #ettore #tom bennett

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loveinhawkins · 10 months

Text

There isn’t a strike of lightning, no grand epiphany that clues Steve in.

It just comes down to this: he knows Dustin Henderson.

Knows how he looks when confronted with a problem he desperately wants to solve.

“Fuck this,” he’s saying through gritted teeth, pushing down hard on the gaping wound across Steve’s abdomen; he’s doing everything right, Steve thinks with pride, but it’s not enough.

It’s not his fault.

Steve says as much.

But Dustin isn’t listening; he’s just muttering to himself, “Not again,” over and over.

And Steve suddenly feels like he did when dropping the quarter into The Indiana Flyer—the moment just before the song played, already knowing what he would hear.

“Not again?” Steve asks very quietly.

Dustin’s mouth snaps shut. His face is chalk white, and there’s more than just fear in his eyes; there’s guilt too, guilt and a responsibility he should never have to bear.

Steve wants to take it from him.

He lifts his hand, grunting with the effort, and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Oh, bud,” he murmurs, “you’ve kept trying, huh?”

Dustin’s eyes fill with tears.

Steve tries to hush him, breathing turning shallow from the pain.

“Hey, you—you’ve g-gotta hand it to me, man,” Steve says through a faint smile. “Was… on the right track, y’know? O-obsessed with clocks.”

Dustin gasps out a laugh. It ends on a sob.

“Shut up,” he says, and that’s all—no clever comeback, nothing, even though he always has one.

Steve’s heart breaks for him.

“How many times?” Steve says, but he doesn’t need a reply; he knows enough just from the way Dustin is shaking.

“I—” Dustin swallows, shakes his head. “I don’t…” Oh, Steve thinks, his kid is tired.

“C’mere.” He cups the back of Dustin’s head. “Everyone… everyone else make it?”

Dustin starts to cry.

It’s an answer of its own.

“Shh. Hey. That’s… you can stop now.” Steve pats the back of Dustin’s hand, stills the pressure on his wound. “Listen. Just… just let it run this time. Hey, it’s okay, Dustin. It’s okay.”

“It’s n-not okay, Steve, how can you—”

“Shh,” Steve says again, and maybe this is as much for him as it is for Dustin; he doesn’t want their last conversation to be a fight. He looks into Dustin’s eyes. Smiles. “Christ, I’m so proud of you.”

It doesn’t cover everything he wants to say; there’s not enough time.

I loved growing up with you. I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you forever.

“Fuck you,” Dustin says, young and angry and so afraid. “Don’t say you’re proud of me, asshole, just don’t—”

Don’t go.

“Okay, fine. You’re a smartass,” Steve drawls, and Dustin lets out a choked giggle before grief takes over again.

“God,” he says, “this isn’t fucking fair. I sh-shouldn’t have to choose—this is—”

“Bullshit,” Steve agrees. “That’s not on you, man. Not your fault if the game’s rigged.”

Dustin closes his eyes.

It’s not so bad, Steve tells himself. He can just… rest for a couple seconds, tell Dustin to get outta here, then…

A faint chime.

Dustin’s eyes open. There’s a sudden gleam to them, shining through the fatigue. Determination.

Hope, despite everything.

“Well then,” Dustin says, “s’a good thing I’m a smartass.”

And then he’s running.

Steve manages to lift his head up with a cry, gets to see Dustin reach a grandfather clock ensnared with vines, because of course he’s not gonna listen to him, he’s such a little shit, and Steve loves him so much—

Dustin reaches up to the glass in front of the clock face, smashes it with his hand.

The world turns white.

The last thing Steve sees is Dustin turning to him with a shaky grin, mouthing, “One more.”

And Steve’s still terrified, but he also thinks of the world’s most stubborn, brilliant kid with a wonky compass, of how many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me?

It’s a walk along the railroad tracks, stumbling into each other’s lives; it’s just get ready, and you die, I die; it’s being trapped under Starcourt, and Steve left with the one thing that all the drugs, all the pain in the world could not take away from him.

The absolute faith that Dustin would figure something out.

#a kinda concept thing got its hooks in me. they are a family and would do anything for each other ❤️#steve and dustin #steve and dustin fic #dustin henderson fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #dustin henderson #steve harrington ficlet #dustin henderson ficlet

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

I've been dreaming of the Ambitious King.

Long live the King of Beasts, he who shines like the sun.

He stands atop the heap, clutching victory in his righteous grasp.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

"We've come to finals of the interschool Spelldrive tournament!" an announcer blares over the stadium. "It's down to the wire, and this will be the deciding round. With the scores tied, it’s anyone’s game!!"

A crowd chomps at the bit for a winner to emerge from the field. They lean forward in their seats, clutch onto hope, stuff their mouths with soda and popcorn. This is a show, the players, actors, and they, the audience.

Leona allows himself a smirk.

We’ll give’m a real show-stopper then. That crown is as good as mine.

“What should our strategy be this time, sir?” a teammate—a Scarabia student—asks.

They’re huddled shoulder to shoulder, one student contributed from each of the seven dorms. Their allegiances may lie in different places, but they all wear the same black and violet uniform. They are all Night Ravens, united under one banner: his.

“We’ll finish this in a single decisive blow,” Leona replies, snapping his goggles on. “I’ll take the disc and score us that final point. The rest of you, cover me.”

“You heard the boss,” the smallest player says. It’s Epel, tiny but feisty—a contrast to his big blue eyes and lilac waves of hair. “Don’t worry, Leona-senpai! I’ll fer sure keep’m offa yer tail!”

“That’s what I like to hear, kid.” He raises his head and calls, “Clear!”

And with that, the players peel off into their own positions. The other team, uniforms pristine white and hemmed in royal blue, are patiently waiting. Leona pulls up to the center of the field where the referee and the opposing team’s leader await.

When he looks, he falters.

It’s a face that is frighteningly similar to his own.

The same skin color, the same lion ears and tail, the same construction of the features—if not softer and more friendly. His mane is held up in a ponytail, bright red-orange that fades into a golden yellow. He’s younger than he should be, missing the slight creases under his warm brown eyes and the lines that flank his perpetually smiling mouth.

“Falena?”

An icy dread creeps up from his core. The world around him seems to slow and come to a complete stop.

But this can’t be. My brother is 10 years older than me. He’s no longer a student, he’s—

“Leona? Is something wrong?” Falena inquires with a cheeky grin. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to play against family.”

Annoyance flares up.

Brother or not, Leona detests that smile. The smile of a man that has robbed him of everything.

“Dream on,” he snarls back. “I’m overthrowing Royal Sword Academy and you."

The referee lets the disc drop and blows into his whistle. “BEGIN!!”

"Aaand it's started!!" the announcer declares.

His body instinctively kicks into action. He swipes the frisbee, keeping it afloat in a blaze of blood-red magic.

RSA swarm him, magical pens at the ready.

“Protect him…!” he hears Epel shout. “Protect the king!!”

His team charges, each of them trained on their target. NRC and RSA, reflecting the other, copying movements as they bound around on the field, seeking an opening or cutting it off.

Leona blows into enemy territory, furiously racing to the goal post.

"What's this?! It looks like Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team has already devised a plan to secure victory. They're closing off any aid the RSA team can offer to each other!"

The crowd revs up like an engine coming alive, a slumbering city waking. Blood thunders in his ears, louder than his audience.

"Oh no, you don't!"

"Oooh, and here comes the upset! It's Captain Kingscholar of the RSA team, come to interfere with the game plan!"

Leona swerves, and a stream of fire narrowly misses him. "Tsk!"

A flash of red and gold, and there's his brother at his side. "Sorry, Leona. It won't be that easy."

"Knock it off. I don't have time to play games with you!"

He dives, trying to shake Falena off--but he pursues, relentless in the chase. They thread each other in the sky, trading spells.

Explosions of heat and color. Shards of ice whizzing by, columns of water. Windy whips lashing at them. All-consuming light and darkness.

"This is amazing, folks! We are witnessing a brotherly quarrel the likes of which we've never seen before... Look at that dazzling display of flight technique and spellwork!"

Through it all, Falena' laughs.

So carefree, so cheerful. A knife twists in his chest, and the anger spikes again.

"That's enough...! I'm ending this," Leona snarls.

His magic collects in a single sphere. There is no body to it, no true shape--only a contained vortex of gales. They violently churn in an endless cycle, raising a storm in a jar.

He sends it hurtling at Falena, who moves to conjure a barrier--

Too late.

The ball expands, releasing its energy in one deep sigh. The audience is slammed back into their seats, the players blown to the ground or sent crashing into the bounds of the stadium. They're dazed, confused, scrambling to rebalance on their brooms.

The path, he sees, is clear.

Now...!

He lets out a monstrous roar and blitzes for the goal post. The disc sparkles, charging with power for the final blow as he gallops toward his prize.

The announcer hops back on, his voice frantic. "Could this be it?! Can Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team reclaim the throne from his brother?!"

Noise builds around him. RSA players calling out to each other, NRC players changing his name, the crowd cheering.

It's now or never.

Leona spikes the disc with all his might. It clears, the winning shot like a shooting star. Some golden object encapsulated in a blaze of fire.

The adrenaline in his blood sings with triumph. His tired muscles, his heavy breathing, the sweat upon his brow--badges of honor.

The sound intensifies, joined by whistles and shrieks. Feet stomping, hands clapping. People standing and hugging their neighbors. (Leona thinks he sees Crowley among them, sobbing uncontrollably.)

“This is incredible, ladies and gentlemen! You’ve just witnessed history being made today…! Night Raven College has snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, breaking Royal Sword Academy’s 99 year win streak!!"

Leona slowly returns to the ground, dismounting from his broom. He lands beside Falena, who is sprawled on his back and wearing the usual smile.

"Ahahah, looks like you beat me," he says casually.

"... Fool. Get up, you look ridiculous. The acting king of the Sunset Savanna shouldn't be rolling around in the dirt." Leona looks away, but awkwardly offers a hand.

Falena laughs and accepts it, hauling himself up. "That's a funny joke. When did you get a sense of humor?"

He scowled. "I didn't make one."

"Are you still half asleep? And you still beat me?" Falena punches him in the bicep. "That's my talented big bro."

"What... big bro?"

There it is again: something cold and sinister inside of him. The lingering feeling of wrongness.

Suddenly, the adrenaline in him turns toxic, and he feels as though his flesh and bones are burning. Leona seizes Falena by the shoulders and shakes him.

"What the hell is going on... Gaaah!"

A metallic screech fills the stadium. Pain blossoms in his ears, and Leona rushes to guard them, hands dropping away from Falena.

"Oops, sorry! Technical difficulties, folks!" the announcer apologizes. "It looks like even our equipment wants to cheer for Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team, the star player of today! Let's give him a round of applause!!"

They explode with excitement, Clapping and calling out louder than he can think.

"What a judicious young man!"

"He controls such powerful magic with ease...!"

He stands there, shocked, at the rain of adoration. Him, recognized? Respected, saluted, and seen as the wonder he is? Him?

His mind clouds.

What is this,,,?

"Leona-saaaan!!"

He turns, finding his teammates jogging over, Epel at the head. There are members of his own dorm with them--Ruggie, Jack.

"We gotcha now, Leona-san! Thought you could get away without getting your fur ruffled, huh?" Ruggie snickers, then gives Jack a thumbs-up. "Alright, fellas. You know what to do!"

"Hah, the hell is this? I didn't ask for a surprise after working my tail off."

"Sorry, Leona-senpai! Ruggie-senpai's orders!" Jack says very seriously. "This is the only way to give you a proper sendoff for carrying us to victory... You've earned it!"

"1, 2, 3...!"

"Wha...?!"

Leona is seized and hoisted into the air with a collective whoop of excitement. Tossed up, up, up. The stadium lights glaring, sound blasting.

He returns back to his peer's arms, and heaved up again. Down and up, down and up. Each pass makes him more nauseous, blinded and deafened by the dizzying joy.

"Long live the king! Long live the king!!" they chant.

The king... me? Leona fights against it, pushing as hard as he can.

But his body is tired, his mental capacities drained, his emotions worn. The situation, too sweet, too cloying.

I'm... the king... I won. This is my prize.

He closes his eyes and lets himself fall.

This time, for good.

When he opens them again, he swears he sees a dark figure flying high above the stadium. Not on a broom, but floating of his own accord. A pair of horns protrudes him his head, and he glimpses a pair of ghostly white hands clapping.

One additional spectator with glowing green eyes.

"Congratulations, Kingscholar."

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month

Note

Lucien who now lives full time in the Day Court knowing the truth (think white robes and cold crown and makeup omg) and who has been in love with IC reader since getting to know her while he was there.

She's now visiting on some Night Court business (research, negotiation, etc.), and he's decided to put on his full Lucien teasing charm to woo her.

Sunlight in a Bowl.

Summary: Did he just... no. Of course not.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: I didnt realise how much i loved this idea until i wrote it 😭 thank you soo much my darling anon for sending in this request, i had soo much fun writing it lol, it was like it took no effort, came to me soo easy 🥹

also, posting this an hour early for funsies 🤭

i promised no angst so theres no angst @milswrites

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

The day court was beautiful.

That was all Y/n could think of as a sentry led her towards Helion's private receiving chambers, all other adjectives having flown out of her head the moment Azriel had dropped her on the border of Day court, from where she'd winnowed herself to the palace.

The white houses, the red and gold roofs, the sunlight shining from above and reflecting from pools of water and the Palace right in the center of it all, the colourful market in the town square...

It was safe to say Y/n was ready to move to Day court, already having forgotten that she was here on a mission from Rhysand.

She was ready, bags packed, no questions asked.

So busy was she gaping at the beautiful architecture of the palace, the artwork reigning her in like some trick of hypnotism, she didn't realise the sentry had come to a stop outside two large oak doors.

Unfortunately, that meant she smacked right into his back before she realised.

Her cheeks blazing, Y/n stumbled back as she glanced up at the male, who had an amused smile on his face.

"I merely stumbled. My dress is a little long."

He nodded. "Never said you did not stumble. I believe it must be hard to walk around in your too long knee length dress."

Blood rushed into Y/n's ears as she looked down at the dress that... only reached her knees, realising he was right.

Fuck.

She cleared her throat, standing at attention, avoiding his eyes.

From her peripherals, she could see him grinning as he knocked on the door, waiting until a voice called out to let them in.

The male opened the door, holding it open for Y/n. She hurried in, resisting the urge to just die as he closed the door behind her.

So much for making a good first impression.

Y/n shook her head, trying to dislodge the lump now forming in her throat at the upcoming conversation.

Being an introvert and shy was a hard job, one Y/n was very good at.

But being introverted and shy while being an emissary? Now that was the job of someone that Y/n would consider god.

And exactly why Y/n had been so against the idea of her becoming an emissary when Rhysand suggested it, knowing she would rather live a life alone in the middle of nowhere and probably become the next Weaver than become an emissary.

Alas, she was the only researcher Rhysand had at his disposal, so now she had been sent to read through as many libraries and books in day court as possible to aid in Feyre's second pregnancy.

It hadn't been confirmed yet whether the babe was winged, but Rhysand and the inner circle thought it best to start researching in advance just in case the babe did have wings and to prevent the second pregnancy ending up the same way the first did, and this time with no one to save them.

"Y/n! Always a pleasure to see you!" Y/n met the warm honey eyes that belonged to Helion, a smile spreading on her face unprompted.

"Helion." She greeted, walking forward and directly into his open and inviting arms, squeezing him back when he wrapped his arms around her.

"I hope the journey was not too hard?"

Y/n laughed, pulling away. "All I had to do was winnow, Helion, why would it be hard?"

Helion grinned, then turned to glance at something behind him.

With horror, Y/n realised that it was not something, it was someone.

Her panicked eyes shot to Helion, remembering that Rhys said Y/n wouldn't have to interact with anyone other than the day court high lord.

"Ah Y/n, meet my son, Lucien. Though I'm sure you've met before."

Y/n swallowed, then let her eyes wander to Lucien. Which, definitely not a good idea, considering Y/n was suddenly drooling and looking away like he had burned her eyes.

She had only looked at him for a moment, but that moment was enough for Y/n to have taken note of how ravishing he looked.

Ravishing?!? Get a grip Y/n.

Y/n attempted to calm her racing heartbeat by taking deep breaths, trying not to think of all the golden skin on display that was not covered by the white robe, the gold crown adorning the head of fiery red.

Trying especially hard not to think about the way his skin glowed with happiness and the beautiful, flirtatious smile adorning those plush, soft lips.

"We- we have met before."

"That's amazing! So if introductions are not needed, I'll take my leave."

Y/n knew her eyes were bulging out of her head at this point, but she did not really care as she gaped at Helion's retreating back. She continued to stare until he reached the doors, then turned to wink at her like he was in on a secret she was not.

Bastard.

Y/n, not knowing what to do, glanced at Lucien, who, in the perfect son-of-bastard way, sent her a cocky grin.

Y/n glared at him at that, pretending like the blush on her face was because of anger and not because she was shy.

"I don't know if Rhys informed you, but I will be helping you out today with the research."

Y/n's eyes widened, staring at him like he'd claimed to have met the Mother herself.

Which, Y/n would have been less surprised to hear, but that was the talk for another day.

"I- no one told me."

Lucien shrugged, that infuriating smile still on his face. "It came up last moment when my father had to leave to handle some important matters."

Y/n nodded sadly, mentally encouraging herself that she could do this.

With a sigh, she gestured at him. "Lead the way."

•○🌑○•

"Are you hungry yet?"

Y/n reigned in her sigh of exasperation.

For the past hour, Lucien had been hovering around Y/n, bothering her with stupid questions and trying to get her to go somewhere else. Where, Y/n could not for the life of her figure out.

She glanced up at him, finding his arms crossed over his chest, a careless grin on his face as he leaned against the desk she sat at.

She also noticed how he stood a little too close to just be acting like a caring host, but she ignored it, just like she ignored the bulging, mouth watering muscles in his arms.

"I am sorry Lucien, but my stomach does not consider me worthy of food at the moment. I will let you know once it decides I deserve to eat."

He laughed at that, his head thrown back, his chest vibrating with how genuine the sound was.

Y/n's eyes dropped to the strong column of his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he glanced back down to her, grinning. Y/n noticed the dimple that made an appearance in his cheeks, but she pretended she was still mad at his constant nagging and turned back to the thick bound tomes she had open in front of her.

Y/n got a moment of reprieve before he drew her attention again.

But this time he did not ask her if she was hungry or if she was thirsty.

No, he pushed off from the table, and Y/n watched him from the corner of her eyes as he walked to the back of her chair.

She was curious, of course she was, but also glad that he would let her do her studies.

Also sad that he was leaving, but no one needed to know that.

But suddenly, two arms were caging her in against the table, and Y/n startled at the sudden heat of being caged against the wood by someone who quite literally had the heat of autumn court fire in his blood and the warmth of day court sun in his blood.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n yelped, trying to keep quiet in the library.

His breath tickled the hair at the side of her neck as he leaned in.

"I am just wanting to inquire when your stomach will deem you worthy of eating."

"Oh my god." Y/n mumbled, her blood tinting her face red. "Stop it Lucien!"

"Not until you tell me you will go out to eat with me. Tell me, will giving you the sun in a bowl convince you?"

Y/n only kept getting redder in the face, and to try to cover it up, she slapped her hands over her face.

He tsked. "That sounded like it hurt."

Y/n paused for a moment, then mumbled out- "It did."

He laughed again, and something about having him so close to her, so free and vulnerable did things to Y/n. She spread her fingers, peeking out to find his eyes closed, his teeth glinting softly in the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows.

She stared at him, slowly letting her hands fall into her lap, not realising she was staring.

Or maybe not caring.

His laughter slowly died down, the sound still ringing softly in Y/n's ears until it faded away.

He met her eyes, happier than Y/n had ever seen, and gave her a soft smile.

"So?"

Y/n sighed, the sound so exaggerated she would have laughed any other time.

"Fine."

For good measure, Y/n rolled her eyes at him before she turned back to the dusty tomes sitting on the rich wood desk.

She could practically feel his grin as he dipped closer, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Y/n's eyes flew wide, turning to gape at him as he straightened.

"So, a bowl of sunlight. In the receiving room before sunset?"

Y/n choked out an okay.

The bastard had the audacity to wink at her as he turned and strutted away, his careless demeanour already enchanting Y/n's malfunctioning brain.

She watched his retreating back until she couldn't anymore, then straightened to stare at the words that now made no sense to Y/n because she was so busy trying not to think about the plans she now had for the evening.

Did he just...

Y/n blinked, glancing once to the archway he'd just disappeared into.

Did he just ask me out on a date?

Y/n shook her head.

No, it was just not possible.

Lucien? Asking Y/n out on date?

Y/n wanted to laugh at herself for even thinking that. Lucien would never...

Fuck.

Despite herself, Y/n began to smile, and hope.

What have I gotten myself into?

It was going to be hurting her brain to think so much about it, but she couldn't care less about it.

Still smiling, Y/n returned to her work, now trying to stop focusing on him and start doing the thing she was actually here for.

It's going to be a long day.

•○🌑○•

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs @tele86

whore hive: @clairebear08 @readychilledwine @riddlesb1tch @berryzxx @thehighladywrites @artists-ally

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lewisvinga · 2 months

Text

pretty when you cry | pierre gasly x fem! reader

summary; y/n will always wait for pierre, no matter how many times he leaves her crying, she will always wait.

warnings; toxic! pierre, cheating, cursing

word count; 640

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

notes; this song reminds me sm of priscilla but lowk not proof read lollll

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

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“Mon amour, I’ll be back in 3 weeks. I promise.”

“3 weeks too long.” Y/n voice cracked, her eyes glued onto the large suitcase Pierre had in his hand. The triple header was coming up and she wasn’t ready for him to leave yet.

He had only been in Monaco for a few days. There were 2 races 2 weeks in a row, and the week off he had in between races was spent in France for some work within the factory.

He was gone for over a month and Y/n had only been with him for 2 days before he had to rush off to Texas to start the triple header. But due to a recent shortage of workers in the hospital, she couldn’t have taken any days off.

It didn’t help the fact she was on her period and more emotional either.

Pierre lets go of his suitcase and walks over to her. He gently cups her cheeks, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “At night, when you stare at the stars, just know I’m staring at the same stars and thinking of you. All the pretty stars shine just for you, my love.”

He leans down to kiss the top of her head, “You’re my girl. You’re the girl that I dream of and that I’ll always dream of. I’ll be back in 3 weeks. Don’t you worry. Just gotta be patient and wait.” He whispers against her hair.

Y/n sniffled as she nodded. “I’ll wait for you, babe.”

“As much as I think you look pretty even when you cry,” Pierre sighed and wiped away more of her tears, “I don’t like to see you hurt. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Y/n takes a deep breath and nods again. “I’ll wait for you, babe.” He smiled down at her, leaving a kiss on her lips. He gently caressed her cheek, making her feel like she was his whole world in just that moment.

Maybe the 3 weeks will pass by quickly. Maybe it’ll be alright.

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“You’re fucking unbelievable, Pierre Gasly!” Y/n exclaimed the moment he walked through the front door of their shared home. His smile immediately faltered in confusion at her sudden harsh tone.

“What-“

“You’re a bitch.” She scoffed as she held up her phone, revealing a picture of him making out with a girl in some club in Brazil after the Brazilian Grand Prix.

He had to cover up the smirk that was threatening to appear on his lips with widened eyes and an open mouth. “Y/n, look-“

“What? Let you explain?” Y/n quickly interrupted him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “Fuck, Pierre, again? What is it this time? Were you too drunk? You thought she was me? Tell me your excuse this time!”

“Amour, it was a stupid fucking mistake, please.” Pierre pleaded, slightly hating how he liked the way her round eyes filled with tears sparkled. “And I was black-out drunk. I had no idea what was going on!”

That was a lie but she didn’t need to know that.

“Pierre, no. I can’t do this.”

“Amour, please, I need you. I can’t live without you. You’re the one for me. Please, don’t leave me.”

She takes a deep shaky breath, looking at everywhere but his eyes. Her nails dug into the palms of her hands as she finally let the tears go. Usually, whenever her exes screwed up, she was always able to leave them no matter how much they begged.

Her friends would tell her that she was always stronger than all of her men. However, Y/n couldn’t be stronger than Pierre. No matter how many times he’d leave her in tears from going away to races and making out with a model, she couldn’t leave him.

“Y/n, say something. Anything! I’ll do anything. Just don’t leave me again.”

“Pierre, I can’t.” She let out a sob, her hands finding its way to cover her eyes.

Pierre immediately took Y/n into his arms, holding her close to his chest. She tried to fight back and pull away but the comforting scent of his cologne, the softness of his shirt, and his arms keeping her closed caused her to give up.

He pressed a kiss against her hair and mumbled, “I’m sorry. Forgive me, please. I need you.”

She glanced up at him. Her eyes filled with tears as mascara ran down her cheeks. The French driver let out a sigh, admiring how pretty she looked when she cried. He knew cheating just to purposely see her cry was something cruel.

Charles and Yuki always tell him that. He knew he was in the wrong but somehow he loved these types of moments. He loved how she’d suddenly act way more clingy after. He loved how she’d do anything for him. He hated that he loved it but he couldn’t help it.

“Y/n?”

“You suck.” She mumbled, pressing her cheek against her chest. “Swear to God, Pierre, you’re going to need to do a lot of shit to make up for this.”

“I promise, I will.” Pierre’s lips curled into a smile as he cupped her rosy cheeks. His thumb wiped away the streaks of mascara, “Have I ever told you that you look pretty when you cry? You’re always so pretty, no matter what you do, mon amour.”

Y/n let out a chuckle as she nodded. Deep down she knew what he was doing and she knew it’d happen again but she just couldn’t get enough of him. She smiled at him and before leaning up to kiss him, she replied, “You always do.”

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #pierre gasly scenarios #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine

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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months

Text

The Last Ride Chapter Two (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

series masterlist

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

a/n: ok remember when i said this chapter wasn't gonna be that long? i lied. but i love y'all if that helps. also thx so much for 500 followers. that's unreal.

contains: arguing, general ranch activities, cussing, not really anything crazy, 2.6k words

“Rise and shine, city girl!”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I peel open my eyes and squint at the annoying figure in my doorway who’s flicking the lights on and off.

“Chris. Please fuck off.” I mumble, rolling over and yanking the covers over my head. I don’t even know what time it is but from the lack of sun pouring in through the curtains, I know it’s too damn early.

“C’mon now. Get up. You’re gonna wanna get a good breakfast in before we start.” He urges but I just reach out from under the blanket and shoo him away.

“Yes! I was hoping it would come to this.” Chris says, sounding way too excited for my liking. I scramble up in suspicion just in time to see him lifting a bucket of water over where my head was.

“Do it and die!” I yell and he grins in response, lowering the bucket.

“Thought you’d see it my way.” He pauses for a second squinting. “Are you wearing fuckin’ Gucci pjs?” He asks, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Why don’t you mind the business that pays you?” I grumble, throwing my legs off the bed and into my house shoes so he will leave.

“Unfortunately, I am.” He deadpans. “Get dressed. And I swear before the lord, if I see anything designer, I’ma push you into the pig sty.”

“I’m not an idiot, you know!” I call before he can close the door. He looks over his shoulder, eyes catching on my fuzzy slippers before he answers.

“We’ll see.”

He clicks the door shut and I get out of bed, heading to my suitcase in a bit of a panic. I throw it open, hoping that I managed to pack at least one outfit that will work but cursing under my breath when I find I didn’t. I’m about to admit defeat, mourning my Rick Owens, when I turn and look at the duffle bag my dad handed me before we left home.

He’d placed it alongside my other luggage in the foyer and I’d been so angry at him I didn’t bother to ask what it was. I unzip it and sigh with relief when I find several sets of overalls, cheap denim, and basic tees. He even added a pair of the ugliest work boots I’ve ever seen. It makes my heart lurch to think of him being this thoughtful when he was so mad at me and I almost want to call him. Almost.

I mean he did ship me off to bum-fuck Louisiana. The least he could do is give me a wardrobe. I huff in renewed indignation before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

When I’m finally dressed, I head into the kitchen where my aunt and uncle are laughing with Chris at the table.

“Good morning,” I say quietly, heading over to where Aunt Birdie has left me a plate. Chris looks me up and down before shooting me a taunting thumbs up and I glare back.

“You excited for your first day, bunny?” My aunt asks, standing to collect my uncle and Chris’ plates. I give her a look over my fork full of eggs and she laughs. “I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.”

Uncle Buck cuts in with a curt laugh, grunting as he stands up. “Now don’t you go lyin’ to the girl.” He looks at me with an apologetic smile. “Not to scare ya down the road or nothing, honey. But the first couple days are gonna be rough.” He claps a hand on Chris' shoulder, who’s been watching the interaction with a knowing smirk. “But I’m sure our boy here will take it easy on you today.”

“Of course I will.” Chris lies, nodding down at my plate. “But maybe you should eat up, darlin’. You might need it.”

***************

“Not like that!” Chris snaps, leaning over my head to run a calming hand over the cow I’m desperately trying to milk. “Don’t tug on her. Just squeeze. Firm but gentle.”

“Well, that’s how they do it in the cartoons so-” I cut myself off and roll my eyes as Chris gives me a look like I have two brain cells. “Why can’t you do it then? And I’ll watch.”

“Because then you won’t won’t learn… obviously.” He says, talking slowly as if I’m a toddler.

He walks around the front of the cow and nuzzles her nose. “Hey, Daisy girl. It’s okay. Sorry about her.”

“How do you know it’s a girl?” I ask as he comes back over and squats down next to me. Chris’ jaw drops and he blinks at me slowly.

“Holy shit. There’s no fuckin’ way-”

“Nevermind-”

“How the fuck would a male pro-”

“Let it go-”

“You think we’re out here milking a bull’s ball-”

“Chris! Just help me!” I cut in, frustration clear in my tone. He sighs and leans forward, readjusting my hand placement and showing me how to squeeze. When milk finally comes out, I squeal in excitement and look over at him. He meets my eye with an amused grin before his face drops and he pulls away.

He clears his throat and stands, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Yeah, just keep doing that. That’s good.” He comments as I continue following his guidance.

When the cow is all milked I stand, pouring my bucket into the larger one Chris points at and give him a cocky smile. “See. I’m not so stupid after all.”

He rolls his eyes and claps sarcastically. “Mhm. Great job.” He comes over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and turning me to the left. “Now for the other eight.”

I groan in defeat, leaning down to pick my bucket back up. Wonderful.

************

“Okay. For whatever reason, some of the hens don’t like to lay their eggs in the nesting box. We don’t sell those, we just keep them for ourselves and Birdie cooks with ‘em.” He hands me a plastic bucket half filled with hay. “Go walk around and find ‘em all.”

I smile despite myself at this. “Like Easter?”

Chris chuckles and dusts off his hands. “Sure, city girl. Like Easter.”

I roll my eyes as I start looking around the coop, spotting a few eggs in the corner. “Stop calling me city girl.”

“Oh, that’s right. You like bunny better, huh?” He teases, heading over to the nesting box and coaxing the hens out his way.

I toss a glare at his back as I continue my egg hunt. “Or you could just call me my damn name.”

“What’s the fun in that?” He walks over to me and holds up a cracked egg for me to see. “You ever get a defective one like that, you throw it out, you hear? I don’t wanna see it in my pile.”

I scoff at his bossy attitude and I throw him a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He grins, going back to the box. “Why do they call you that anyway? Bunny. Are you really as sweet as all that?”

“Try me and find out,” I reply, scooping up the last of the eggs. I turn and find Chris staring at me with his eyebrows raised, realizing my mistake. “I didn’t mean it like-”

He turns back to the box, cutting me off. “Nah. I think I’ma need to think of something new. Name you somethin’ that fits you better. Let me think.”

“Sure, bud,” I say, stepping closer to him as he explains the difference between the white and brown eggs.

************

“When do we get to go see the horses?” I ask as we load up the pickup truck with more food and water.

He looks over at me in surprise. “You a horse girl? Makes sense. Thought you were weird.”

I glare at him and he chuckles. “Shut up. I just liked to ride a bit when I used to come here.”

He nods and pulls up the tailgate. “It was somebody else’s day to fed ‘em.” He says before he notices the disappointment on my face. “But we can swing by. We’re going that way anyway.”

I give him a small grateful smile and he gestures for me to hop in the truck.

When we pull up to the stables, I’m almost overwhelmed by the memories that flood me. Me standing on a stool to brush my childhood horse, Pinkie Pie. My first time riding, my grandpa stuck like glue to the side of the horse and holding the reins.

I shake it off, not wanting to get emotional and head in behind Chris. He shows me around, pointing to a few of the horses and telling me their names before handing me some oat treats to feed them. I look around at their beautiful faces before I spot one that catches my attention.

She looks almost identical to Pinkie, with chestnut coloring that fades a bit darker around her neck and face. I walk up to her and extend my hand for her to eat from, keeping my palm flat.

“Hold on!” Chris starts but he drops his sentence as she gently begins to eat. I bring up my other hand and stroke her face gently.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

Chris walks up beside me, clearly dumbfounded. “I can’t believe she’s letting you feed her by hand let alone touch her. Cinnamon’s a mean ole girl. Ain’t that right.” He reaches over the fence and scratches her neck. “She only likes me and your uncle.”

I tut and Cinnamon nuzzles her face close to mine, dropping her ears and closing her eyes.

“Well, I guess she has a new favorite,” I say with satisfaction. I play with her for a few more minutes, giving her love and some more treats before I remember Chris is there.

He’s leaning against the fence staring at us with his arms crossed, a strange dopey look on his face. I raise my eyebrows at him and he clears his throat and pushes up.

“C’mon. Let’s get back to work.”

************

“Lift with your legs and your core, woman. You’re gonna throw your damn back out.” Chris nags as I attempt to pour the pig feed into their container.

“Well, you could be a manly man and lift it for me!” I say breathlessly, grunting with effort. He comes over and snatches the bag from me, lifting it like it was a stick of gum.

“What are you gonna do when I’m not with you?” He says when he’s done, dropping the bag between his feet.

“Oh, I get the feeling you’ll always be over my shoulder so I’m not worried,” I say looking down sadly at my ruined nails. Chris notices and taps his foot for my attention. He's got his evil ass smirk on when I look up at his face and I know I’m in trouble.

“Y’know. I was gonna wait till tomorrow but I reckon it’s about time to weigh a couple of the piglets.”

My eyes widen to saucers at the idea of picking one of those dirty things up. “Chris-”

“Why don’t you go grab us one, huh? Just swing over the fence.” He’s cheesing, seeming the most entertained I’ve seen him yet; and that’s saying something.

I stomp around to the front of the pin, not wanting to let him win. There’s no way I’m sliding over a fence and picking up a pig in the same breath so I unhook the gate and swing it open.

“Wait! Y/N! Don’t-” Chris calls out but it’s too late. A piglet jets his ass out the gate and takes off across the field. I cuss loudly then slam the gate shut before another one can Houdini their way out. Turning on my heel, I take off after the little pig, listening to the laughter of the other workers behind me.

He’s fast, I’ll give him that, and I chase him all the way to the horse stables. He runs in but gets spooked when they neigh and turns back allowing me to scoop him up. He squeals and squirms in protest but I hold on tight.

“Got you. You little trackstar.” I say, out of breath. I turn around and start to head back, stopping in my tracks when I see Chris coming around the corner with a cage.

He takes the piglet from me and I hunch over, trying to stabilize my breathing.

“Bet you listen to me, next time.” He says after he’s got Wilber Jr. secured. But I don’t respond. I just stay bent over exhausted, feeling tears pricking my eyes. Chris notices and comes over, placing a hand on my back and rubbing in circles.

“Hey. I think it’s time for a break. How’s lunch sound?”

*************

We sit on the bed of the truck eating the lunches Aunt Birdie packed for us quietly. I scrunch my nose up when I notice him sipping out of a Pepsi can.

“Does Coke not bother sending their product to this fuck ass state?” I say teasingly.

He screws his face up at me and shakes his head. “Not gonna lie. I’m not even surprised when you’re wrong anymore.”

I laugh lightly, taking another bite of my sandwich.

“So…” Chris starts, reaching back, tossing his trash in the bag. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know about you, Scotch. Got any siblings?”

“Scotch?” I question, raising my eyebrow at the nickname.

“Yeah. Scotch. Cus people always like to say it has all this kick to it… but, uh, it goes down smoother than you’d think.” Chris maintains eye contact with me for a second and then looks away, stretching.

I smile to myself and clear my throat before answering. “Well… anyway. No to the sibling question. I always wanted one though.”

He snaps pointing at me like he’s having a breakthrough. “There it goes. You’re proving my only kid theory.”

I roll my eyes and push his shoulder playfully. “Shut up.”

He grins at me and cracks his fingers. “Okay give me some more. What else?”

“I’m from Los Ang-”

He cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Duh. I asked about you. Not where you’re from.”

I furrow my brows in thought. Those two things have always been one and the same to me. “Um.. okay. Well, how about you go first? Do you just have your sister or are there more of you?” I shudder dramatically.

He raises a brow at the jab but answers anyway. “Just me and her. She’s my everything.” He smiles lightly and then nudges me with his shoulder. “You’re not off the hook. What do you wanna do when you grow up?” He asks, his tone taking on a mock childish quality. I laugh and rest my face on my cheek, thinking.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out but it’s hard,” I say, drumming my fingers against my face.

He scoffs and I look over at him in confusion. “What?”

“Nothin’. It’s just…I don’t get what’s hard about it.” He says simply.

I sit up, my guard snapping back into place. “I don’t understand what you don’t understand. I mean it’s the rest of my life we’re talking about.”

He rubs a hand over his face and shrugs. “I mean not really. If you don’t like it, you’ll just call up mommy and daddy to fix it for you.” I blink at him and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“No, you’re just being an fucking asshole. As usual.” I snap, sliding off the truck, and storming off toward the goats. I don’t know why his judgment is suddenly affecting me at all but it doesn’t matter. The quicker I get this day over, the quicker I can get away from Chris fucking Sturniolo.

🏷️@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable

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tojisangrylittlething · 10 months

Text

12:15 AM - Megumi Fushiguro

summary: two teens who are in stupid love with each other.

wc: 1.2k words

you were laying in your dorm, just staring at the ceiling. glancing toward the clock on your nightstand, the time read 12:15 AM. sighing, you turned your gaze back to the ceiling. resuming your count of every divet and memorizing each cobweb. the only noise you could hear was your fan that was oscillating in the room. closing your eyes, you tried to fall asleep once more.

a few minutes go by and all of a sudden, you hear your phone buzzing. leaning over to grab it off your nightstand, you squint at the bright light, trying to read the caller ID.

megumi is calling...

answer or decline

you debated on letting it ring, telling yourself that sleep is more important. you do have that quiz tomorrow that you studied your evening away for.

you continued to look at your phone, trying to make a decision. tapping the green button, you raise the phone up to your ear, answering with a groggy hello.

"did i wake you?" his voice rang deep as it came through the receiver.

you rolled onto your back, "no, you didn't. i couldn't sleep anyways."

you hear shuffling at the other end. "neither could i."

there was a pause.

"i miss you."

you giggled. "megumi, you just saw me at dinner." he huffs out air "and? am i not allowed to miss my girlfriend?"

you smiled at the way he said it. the term still sounding so different coming from his mouth. so matter-o-fact. you two haven't been dating long, only a few months. the pining started way before that though. you both agreed to take it at your own pace, deciding to tell the others at a later date. until you were both ready to share the other with the world, as a couple. it's been so tranquil, just you and him basking in each other's energy. nobody putting their nose in your business. slowly knowing every detail about the other, becoming one.

"you are, i just wasn't expecting you to be this dramatic about it. maybe gojo rubbed off on you more than you thought" you teased him.

he could hear that smirk in your voice. hell, he can picture it in his mind right now. that smirk that seems to pull him in. a simple tilt of your head and he's captivated by whatever you will say or do next. how you hold yourself, the way you treat others, the way you treat him. he doesn't know what he did to ever deserve a shining light like you.

"don't ever insult me like that again."

you laughed at the sarcasm dripping from his voice. "i miss you too, honey."

he smiled big at that. you turn his heart into a roaring fire. filling his chest with an indescribable warmth. you are the only one able to turn his blank expression into a readable one. you make him feel things that he didn't think he would ever feel.

being a sorcerer, not every day is guaranteed. when you both discovered the crush you harbored for each other, it was different. how do you even approach that? you thought nobody would want to be with someone whose life seemed so...temporary. megumi was always certain he would die young simply because that's part of the job description. death was always an inevitable possibility. he believed that he would never experience true love or happiness or whatever it is they talk about in the media. yet here you were, in the flesh right before him. your smile so bright it was blinding, and the way your eyes looked at him with complete adoration? for the first time in megumi's life, he decided to be selfish with his own wants. he chose the security that you provided him. when he got one small taste of you, he wasn't letting you go.

"can i come over?"

this had become a habit. megumi coming to your dorm in the late hours of the night, only to sneak back at dawn. you worried what would happen if he was caught, but every time you said yes to him. you were addicted to his presence. he was so gentle with you and you felt safe with him. forgetting the everyday horrors of being a sorcerer just long enough while you lay in his arms. when it's you and him, the outside world ceases to exist.

"of course. it's unlocked for you."

"i'll see you soon." and with that, he hung up.

you smiled to yourself and put your phone back on the nightstand. just waiting on your lovely boyfriend to make his entrance.

it was just minutes later that you heard your door softly creak open, then shut with the click of the lock. you turn to see the dark silhouette of your boyfriend at the end of your bed. lifting your blankets back, you softly say come on. the bed dips with the weight of megumi climbing into it.

immediately your arms go for each other. needing skin to skin contact. your bodies entwine, with the type of physical touch only the other could provide.

one of megumi's hands was rubbing up and down your back while the other went for the back of your head. your arms were wrapped around his neck, playing with the wispy ends of his hair.

megumi lays feather-light kisses along the conjunction of your neck and shoulder. you let out a sigh, enjoying the feeling.

the more you become entranced by the rhythmic movement on your back, the more your mind wanders off. how long do we have? how much longer of this bliss until the cursed and the dead come knocking for us? you know deep in your soul that you would protect megumi no matter the cost. he had to be the one to make it. not you. the possibility of having to live this life without him...just that thought feels like a part of you died.

"losing you is not an option for me."

megumi pulls away from your neck, movements stilling completely. he is looking directly into your eyes, but with how dark the room is, you can't quite read the expression on his face.

"i can bear losing anyone else, but not you. it can, and will, never be you."

the hand that was on your back moves up to cup the side of your face, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. megumi leans in and presses a small kiss to the tip of your nose.

"i'm not going anywhere. you are the reason i am still alive. every breath i take, i take for you. do you have any idea what i would do for you?'' megumi presses his forehead against yours. "for you, i'd steal the stars. you want the moon? i'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down for you. i never thought i'd fall so hard for you."

all you could see in this moment was megumi. the soft smile he wore and those gentle eyes that you could float around in. you could feel your eyes begin to sting with fresh tears. your chest felt tight, all the butterflies fluttering their way to the top. you snapped out of your haze and smiled at him. a big, beaming smile full of love.

such a foreign feeling, love. in a world where the odds were always stacked, something was looking out for the two teenagers hopelessly in love.

#fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year

Text

Wildflower

What should Ghost give during Valentine's Day to Jade when she's an actual florist who sees flowers literally every day?

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC) Word Count : ~ 6.4k words Warning : Full on fluff-fest, a slight angst, and the good o'l cursings.

Title and story inspired by the song 'Wildflower' by Clay Finnesand and 'La Vie en Rose' by Louis Armstrong.

February 14th.

Fucking Valentine’s day - a day full of love, they said.

He never really celebrated or cared about any of those kinds of days where people commemorate shit like love. For him, it's just like any other day. He woke up today and did his workout before he went on jogging.

However, that day is different as he saw countless red and pink decorations in every store in his apartment neighbourhood, offering Valentine's day discount for couples. He swore he saw more couples walking down the street than usual, that he even saw a man propose to his girlfriend when he was jogging.

Looking at them, Ghost remembered,

He already confessed to Jade during the New Years.

Yep. He did.

Across the London Eye, when the fireworks painted the infinite black, the chimes of Big Ben rang throughout the Thames River, he said it to her,

‘I think I’m falling in love with you.’

Only to disappoint her again by saying, ‘But I don’t think I’m ready yet.’

Had he been a coward for not being ready to commit yet? Jade was a shining light in his life. She knew of his struggles, and she treated him with kindness and fondness no woman ever did to him. All his life he never thought to fall in love with someone, yet here he was.

He wanted to be in a relationship with her. Fuck, he wanted to. But she deserved the world. She deserved certainty and stability while his job was nothing but that. He could get deployed out of the blue anytime – die anytime. He had a lot of things to sort out first.

He saw tears in her green eyes despite the smile. She only hugged him in response, saying,

‘I love you, so I’ll stay right here.’ Jade muttered shakily while pressing her body to his in a tight hug, her fingers grasping the back of Ghost’s jacket.

‘When you’re ready, I’ll be here.’

‘Let’s be friends, yeah?’ She had added, to which he answered with a smile. “Yeah. We'll always be friends.”

That was New Years.

It'd been two months since then. Ghost and Jade had been texting each other regularly all the while continuing their lives. They met occasionally for a food tour as Ghost was a food enthusiast. Their chat was full of ‘Let’s try the new Korean BBQ around the street’, ‘You ever tried a fried ice cream?’, ‘There’s a new movie about a lady becoming a superhero across multiple universes’, and more casual stuff like those. Meanwhile Jade would take him to physical activities such as take him to a zoo, hiking, and even go to arcades.

Johnny had been such a tease on it. He’d been bothering Ghost the whole time in the base as the Lieutenant looked at his phone and typing away on it more frequently than ever. ‘Yer’ lookin’ very happy these days, Sir.’ , ‘How’s Jade doin’?’, ‘Another ‘meet-up’ with Jade?’,

‘Yer’ so full of rubbish. That’s called a date.’ Soap had said.

'Shut your gob. We’re just friends, Johnny.’

‘Friends who go on dates together.’

Soap ran away before Ghost could smack the shit out of him.

But was it really? Ghost and Jade frequently walk together, as friends, Eating at places together, as friends. Watch movies together, as friends.

But seeing that one guy propose to his girlfriend lit up a spark in him.

That's when Ghost texted her for a meet-up somewhere, Jade replied back with,

‘I would LOVE to if it's not the busiest time of the year T_T and every Valentines we'd open from early morning to midnight, so I'm really sorry. We have all our employees working, but it doesn't seem to make any difference.’

He forgot that Valentine’s day is literally the most important day for a florist. Fucking idiot.

Ghost sighed as he looked up from his phone, right in front of the Le Jardin floristry. He wore a black hoodie and a face mask, the black face paint absent from around his eyes as he was on leave, a rare occurrence from his line of work. Inside the garden was an organised chaos, to say the least. Ghost saw at least 6 customers inside the garden, around 4 employees going around the shop to accompany them. Even as one person went out after buying a flower, two people would enter the shop to replace them. The place was positively crowded.

He looked far and wide for Jade inside among the sea of people, until a woman with ginger hair came out of a room with a big rose bouquet, giving it to a man in an expensive suit that was tailored to perfection for his figure. The man paid for the humongous flowers and left the shop with a nervous face, meanwhile Jade instantly attended to another customer. He could tell that she's a leader based on how she commanded her employees with such confidence and authority, yet still had that kindness and gentleness in her way of talking. Her legs brought her around the shop with utmost speed and precision, not a single step was wasted on her feet.

He could only smile proudly beneath the mask.

For about 15 minutes he observed the shop, until a truck pulled up in front of an alleyway right beside the floristry. Didn't have to wait long to understand that the vehicle was meant to pick up flower decorations for a wedding as an old man came out from the alleyway (presumably connected to the backdoor of the shop) brought out a very big, white bouquet in his arms, which size was so big it concealed his head - surely he couldn't see where he was stepping. Ghost noticed that he was struggling to lift the giant decoration onto the truck, his knees looked like it was about to tumble, until his prediction turned into reality.

The old man's knees failed him, and the big white flower decoration would turn into a mess on the ground, if not for Ghost, who quickly leaped in and held the flowers from falling. Ghost huffed in relief that he jumped just in time.

The man leaned to the side of the decoration to see who had just saved him, and saw a big, tall man dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, whose face was concealed by another black face mask.

Regardless, the elder smiled wide, "Oh good heavens! Thank you so much for the assist! My knees aren't as strong as they used to." The old man said as they both put the white decorations into the truck box. "Ah~ being young is so much easier innit?"

Ghost only nodded, avoiding eye contact to hide his identity. Why'd he help him? probably just from reflex, but then again, how could he just leave an old man stumbling to his fall?

"I'm really sorry for the trouble. I wish I could repay you." The old man's expression was so kind it's almost blinding. He wasn't that short or frail for a man with entirely white hair, probably a 5'9". Judging by his quite muscular arms from his rolled sleeves, he could tell that he's not weak, his knees just betrayed him at a bad time.

Ghost didn't say anything to the man as he was about to walk away to avoid more interaction, before a familiar feminine voice called.

"Papa! Are you okay!? I saw you trip!"

Both men turned their attention to the shop, where a woman with braided red hair and dark blue apron was talking from the main doorway.

"Don't worry, Lottie Dear. I got it, but only thanks to this young lad right here." He gestured to Ghost, where he stood right on the elder's left. "If not for him, we'd have to replace all the flowers."

Fuck.

The old man is her father.

It's Mister Le Jardin.

Her green eyes caught the sight of a man whose built and sense of fashion she would recognize from a mile away. "Wait... Ghost??" Jade exclaimed, her face filled with surprise, "What are you doin' here??"

The SAS lieutenant looked up to her with a tinge of panic on his concealed face, while Mr. Le Jardin observed him up and down. "Oh? You know him?"

Jade nodded slowly, still shocked, "Yes... he's uh… he's a friend from work."

He never intended to be noticed by Jade, afraid of disturbing her work, let alone meet her father out of all people.

The father noticed that word. 'From work'.

"Really now? What's your name, young man?" Mr. Le Jardin asked, his voice went higher in delight.

He lowered his head to bow a little, before answering, "Simon... Sir."

"Ah. Nice to meet you, Simon! I'm Eli, owner of Le Jardin along with my wife Gracie – she's inside dealing with the clients." He introduced himself with a handshake, which Ghost reluctantly accepted.

"Sir! Where're the rest of the flowers?!" The truck driver shouted as he got off his vehicle, prompting Eli to walk to the back door through the alleyway, leaving Ghost and Jade at the front of the shop, her face still painted with shock. A lady walked in front of Jade to enter the shop, so she made some way for her and approached Ghost.

"Hey Ghost." The red-head started, happiness filling her voice.

"Hey."

"So… What brings you here?" She surely knew that he wasn't there just because he 'happened to be in the area', so he deleted that reply in his mind.

"I wanted to see you."

Jade's eyes widened, surprised at his straight-forward answer. "Oh."

"Your old man lost his balance loading this decoration into the truck, so I helped him."

"Oh." Still with the same answer, Jade couldn't tell him how fast her heartbeat was, as her father just came in contact with Ghost, the man she fell in love with.

He looked inside the shop, observing the clients and employees walking around. "Busy day innit?"

"Yeah, it is. To be honest we've been busy since the last 3 days. Had to pick up tons of fresh flowers from our fields back in Norfolk, then arrange them for this day. Today's the busiest day, so it's an all-hands-on-deck situation. Also a big wedding is coming up tonight, and we have to transport these humongous flowers to a hotel ballroom for decorations. Biiig money. This is the third truck." Jade explained as her father and the truck driver walked out with two exact copies of the same white flower decor, lifting them up into the truck before immediately running back in. Third truck? The client must've had too much money on their wallets.

Seeing the scene that's happening in front of him, Ghost took a deep breath and blew it out.

"Seems like your Da can use an extra pair of arms and younger knees." His deep voice suggested, making Jade's eyebrow rise.

"Oh? Are you willing to help us out?"

A nod was all she needed as a confirmation. "Got nothin' else to do or to be."

A wide grin fell on her lips as she grabbed Ghost's right hand and pulled him into the alleyway and to the back door of the shop, where a vast storage room was packed full of flower decorations similar to the ones that were being lifted to the truck. There were only flowers where the eye could see, save for the door that led to the front shop. There were huge boxes and boxes of flowers that had big 'Ian & Gia 14/02's written on them.

Ghost turned to the woman beside her. "Big money, eh?"

"Suuuuper big. Businessman and a big shot pianist. Wanted all the jasmines of blue white and red, and we gotta lift them all to the truck." She explained smiling to him, "Think you're up for this?"

"Won't even break a sweat." Ghost began stepping into the storage room, lifting three big boxes at once in his arms. Jade was left impressed by his show of strength as he ran to the truck at an impressive speed, before coming back and picking up more boxes like a machine, his hoodie still up and his mask still on.

Jade scoffed at his feat, as her father came to pat her shoulder from behind, "A soldier huh?"

"...Yeah."

"It's basically written on his whole figure and posture. Is he any special in his regiment?"

The daughter could only let out a light laugh, "Very, very much so."

"Get out of here." His father looked at her in disbelief, "SAS?"

"Yep. One of the strongest, and I'm not even exaggerating."

His loud laugh filled the alleyway as Ghost ran back and forth lifting the flower boxes without a second wasted and tiredness showing. Jade smiled before heading into the shop to aid her mother and her co-workers with the regular customers.

------

“Chacha, the pink wrapping paper and white 2.5 is out! We need more from the storage, please!” shouted Fiona, her co-worker and best friend of southeast asian descent, who mainly works in the front counter, preparing the flowers right in front of the visitors (which worked as an added value to attract more people). Her wrapping skills were second to none in the shop, even to Gracie, Jade’s mother, who sat right beside her counting the incoming revenues and accepting orders by call.

“One minute!” Jade shouted back from the studio room, which was right behind the wall of the main display room while her hands also swiftly moved to arrange roses inside a heart-shaped box. The order had come in pretty fast; she had to make three of them at a time, and now she had to go up to the second floor to get the items Fiona requested.

“Let me get it.” A deep voice came from behind her, making Jade flinch and look back to the source of the voice, where Ghost stood.

“A-Are you done with the loading?” Jade asked him with a start, as it was not even 20 minutes since he started to help her father lift all the flowers inside the truck.

“Just finished. Truck left just now with your dad to arrange the decorations in the ballroom.”

“Oh.” Jade leaned back to take a glimpse of the back storage room, and true to his words, it was empty. “Wow.”

“Where are these… pink wrappings and the ‘white 2.5’s’?” Asked Ghost with a tone of confusion in his words. Jade could only giggle as she never thought she’d hear the word ‘pink’ out of his mouth.

“Okay, so go to the second floor. On your 3, duck down and the pink wrapping is on the 3rd shelf from the bottom - take 4 rolls of ‘em. ‘White 2.5’s’ means the white-coloured satin ribbon with a 2.5 centimetres width. Don’t mistake them for the rest as there are the .5, 1.2, 4, and 5 centimetres as well. From the shelf go to your left and there should be a high rack and you can find the thingy there. Take two rolls. Don’t forget to close the door before you go down.”

Ghost stood in silence as he processed the information.

Before Jade could ask him if he remembered all that, he answered: “Affirmative.”

The man walked to the side stairs and stepped over 2 stairs, disappearing from her sight to the upper floor. Jade scoffed at the sight before going back to her handiwork. When else can you command an SAS officer like this?

----------

“Chachaaa~ Where're the pink wrappings and white 2.5s?! I need ‘em no–” Fiona noticed the new pink wrappings and white ribbons on the table as she worked. That was fast.

She then looked up, expecting to find her red-headed best friend who was shorter than her, only to find a big, tall man dressed in a black hoodie and a face mask instead, who exudes danger in the way he stands. Fiona, Gracie, and the clients looked him up and down with mouths agape, as they never saw this giant man around, ever. The scene looked too damn comical for his liking.

“...Is this correct?” Ghost started with a voice lower than the depths of hell, which surprised the whole room. Fuck. Being looked at by people was the one thing he wanted to avoid, but here he was.

“Lottie dear, Who’s this?” the old lady beside Fiona asked Jade with a quite high volume, who was still inside the studio arranging the heart-shaped roses.

Judging by the nickname and those braids in her gray hair similar to Jade's, this lady could only be Gracie, her mother.

Mrs. Le Jardin.

“H-He’s a friend from work! I called him up here to lend a hand!” Jade shouted back from the studio. Even with the answer, all the people were still staring at him, especially Jade’s mum, and it felt like having ten laser sights aiming at him.

He swore he saw a smirk from Gracie.

So before he attracted more attention, Ghost repeated, “Is this correct?”

“Y—yeah.” Fiona answered nervously, meanwhile her mother was still eyeballing him like she found a leprechaun. Upon hearing that confirmation, Ghost left the items in the counters and fast-walked back to the studio where Jade was, disappearing from sight.

-----------

“Chacha, are you serious? ‘A friend from work’?” Fiona asked her best friend as she threw a piece of french fries into her mouth. The Le Jardin floristry was currently having a lunch break, and most of the employees went out to get their own meals, while the two stayed inside to talk about the man who was currently sweeping the floor of the studio alone, silently.

Fiona stared at his back from where they were eating at a counter, chewing at her fries. “Are you saying that you have a friend built like that with a voice like that working as a volunteer in the orphanage dealing with kids???”

“Nooo no no, that’s not it–!” That was where Jade messed up. She forgot that neither her best friend, nor any one of their employees know that the Le Jardins used to be MI6 black agents, except the fact that Jade was adopted. They both started to become friends when Fiona applied for the job 3 years ago, right when Jade just retired from MI6. All that she knew was the fact that Jade only had two jobs: Floristry on weekdays and in the orphanage for weekends. She never mentioned the other work that she did for the last two decades of her life. “I didn’t mean from work, I mean I met him when I was at work.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“When and how did you meet him? Heck what is his name?” Shit. She needed to make up stories about him at this point. But what?! Jade hated lying. Sure it’s super easy to manipulate people by changing reality, but she didn’t want to lie to her best friend! Fiona’s the one who’s been helping her adjust to the life of being a florist and a normal life for the last three years (after saying that she’d been living abroad).

However, how can Jade just say, ‘oh so actually I was an MI6 agent. Both of your bosses were too, actually. Not only agents – we were black agents who were trained since we were not old enough to make our own decisions to do the illegal stuff! I retired three years ago and that's when I met you, but they called me back again, and that’s when I met that guy who happened to be an officer of one the most elite task forces in the world!'

That’s just absurd!

How did she meet him? How did she meet him?!

"Ja– I mean Midg– I mean Lottie, where do I put these–"

The two women turned their heads to Ghost, who came out of the studio with the broom and dustpan in his hands. Looking at the two women's expression, he knew he fucked up. He didn't know what to call her outside of work. Her call sign 'Jade' was directly tied to her work as an MI6 and he couldn't know for sure if Fiona knew about that name. 'Midget' was the name he called her regularly, but he thought it was too harsh in front of her best friend, while 'Lottie' was…

"Why did you call her that?" Fiona asked him while chewing her fries, suspicion painting het face, while Jade sucked her lips and widened her eyes in shock.

Fuck. He thought right. It's a pet name used exclusively by her parents.

"Wait. No way." She turned to Jade and Ghost back and forth before standing up abruptly, startling Jade, meanwhile Ghost stood calmly, still holding the cleaning tools in his hands.

"Chacha… is he your secret boyfriend?!?"

That sentence shocked both of them as Jade quickly denied in panic, "No! No, he's not!! Just– sit down will you?"

"That name is exclusively used by the bosses, ya know." She started walking towards Ghost slowly.

Jade followed her from behind, trying to hold her friend back. "Fiona, he isn't! I swear!"

"No, seriously. How did you meet her? When?" She started closing in on Ghost excitedly, looking up at him. "What’s your name, by the way?"

“Simon.” Ghost answered deadpanly, as the last question was literally the only question he can answer casually. As long as he didn’t give out his last name, it’d be fine. “Name’s Simon.”

"Ooooooh so he's the reason why you've been going out a lot after closin' up! You've been on dates!!"

"NO!! We haven't–"

"Yes."

Ghost's deep voice interrupted the two girls' argument, making them look at the man.

"We've been on dates."

Jade's face turned as red as her hair, and her heart beat so fast and so hard she swore Fiona and Ghost could hear it. Why was he suddenly doing this??? All the while, Fiona's jaw dropped to the floor, eyes glaring at her best friend in shock.

Jade glanced at Ghost, but that damned hoodie and face mask did not help her at all. "I KNEW IT!!! I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU'VE BEEN DATING BEHIND MY BACK??? I mean– I am happy for you, Chacha, but WHY ARE YOU HIDING IT FROM ME???" Fiona excitingly chimed to her best friend, grabbing Jade's shoulders before shaking them like she's a ragdoll.

"Wait– Fiona I can explain–"

"Okay! Explain then! Tell me everything! And don't you dare try to hide anything from me." That's right. She deserved to know. Fiona had been with her for the past three years. She's her first best friend ever. Jade knew she could trust her.

Jade relented with a big sigh and glanced at Ghost with a questioning look. He caught her cue before he himself took a deep breath. "As long as she can keep her mouth shut."

Fiona turned to Ghost, "Wh-what? What is this about?"

"Fiona. My dear best friend. My very beautiful friend that I trust. I love you, so, so much, so I will tell you the truth." Jade started before Ghost cut her again.

"Jade where do I put the broom and the dustpan."

"Owh just put it on the side there yeah. Thanks."

"Who's Jade?"

—------------

"Okay. So let me get this straight." Fiona clapped her hands together in front of Ghost and Jade, who were sitting on the chairs behind the counter together while Fiona was standing up. Jade sat like she was being interrogated, while Ghost folded his arms in front of his chest.

"You, Chacha, had been working as an MI6 black agent for the last twenty years, since you were a wee kid, and then retired three years ago." Jade nodded.

"But two years ago, they called you back to this city called… Verdansk, and that's where you meet… Simon." She gestured to Ghost, who nodded.

"You only met briefly, until last October, you got called back from retirement again, and that's when you met him for the second time. But this one was special, as you guys started to develop feelings for each other, am I right?" Both of them nodded.

"GOD this sounds like a Wattpad type of shite!!" Fiona grasped her hair from frustration, "And you're an MI6 BLACK AGENT??? REALLY???"

"Was. Papa and Mama were, too, actually."

"Oh my Dear Lord in Heavens. THE BOSSES WERE BLACK AGENTS TOO?????" Jade nodded again. Clearly she didn't have any single clue of the burden that came with the words 'MI6', 'agent', especially with the added word 'black' in front of it.

"And you, Simon. So you're a soldier. Which one are you from? Navy? Is it the Royal Artillery? Or is it Life Guards like James Blunt?" Fiona asked with her very limited military knowledge.

"You promised to keep your mouth shut so keep your promise." That voice came out harsher than he intended it to be, prompting Fiona to be taken aback.

"SAS."

The black-haired woman gasped so hard, covering her mouth in shock. "...like Bear Grylls?"

Jade couldn't help the giggle, as Ghost was utterly flabbergasted at her reaction as that was the first thing that came to her mind from the revelation. "...Yeah. Like Bear Grylls. And no I don't know him."

"Wow. Okay. So why the face mask? Does this have anything to do with secrecy and stuff?" Fiona asked him again as Ghost still had the hoodie up and face mask. She hadn't seen his face at all. "Am I not allowed to see his face? Wait Chacha you have seen his face right?"

"Of course I have! What do you mean by that!?" Jade countered, clearly overwhelmed by the barrage of questions. "Ghost. it's up to you."

Ghost huffed, lifting up one hand to the upper hem of his face mask. Fiona observed as Ghost pulled down the mask for a good 3 seconds, catching a glimpse of his strong jaw, his light brown stubble, the faint scars on his face, before putting the face mask back into place again. "Happy now?"

"Oh. Wow. Okay. I am happy." Fiona confirmed with start, turning to look at Jade again, "Chacha you hit a jackpot on this one – so you guys are a couple, right?"

The man and woman looked at each other for a long time, Jade bit her lower lip as her expression fell. Ghost could only close his eyes in regret.

"Wait, no way you guys aren't a thing already. Whaaaatttt?" Fiona expressed her confusion because, for the last two months, Jade had started to buy more makeup and clothes, and the sudden interest in her looks had made Fiona suspicious. She really thought her best friend was dating a man secretly, but now that he's right here, both of them could not say that they're in a relationship?

"Look, Fiona… it's complicated, okay? We're just taking things slow right now. Our… jobs have their own risks, and we're just trying to enjoy things as they are now." Jade tried to explain with a bit of a sad tone to her voice.

"So… you guys are friends, who happen to go on dates occasionally?" Fuckin' hell. Ghost thought. How could she say the exact same thing as Soap? Was it really weird? For two friends to just go together doing whatever they liked?

After both of them nodded for the hundredth time that day, Fiona sighed in acceptance. "Chacha, Luv, I might not understand what you guys are going through right now, but Simon," she turned to Ghost, who lifted his head to see her clearly. "You better not make her cry."

The man glanced to his side, where Jade silently sat on the chair. He knew she'd already hurt her feelings by saying he wasn't ready for a relationship yet, but if he wanted to be honest with himself, was ‘scared’ and ‘afraid’ the right word for it? As Soap and Fiona said, they’re literally doing what couples do.

He’s just afraid to put a name on it.

“I’ll try.”

—------------

Jade had texted him earlier that during Valentine’s, Le Jardin’s floristry would open until midnight. Ghost wondered why as it had been a while since the employees had gone home, including Fiona (who told her that they were going to have a long chat on the phone) who had to go home and have dinner with her family. The sun had long drowned, replaced by the moon that accompanied the cold winter of London. Warm lights from the shops and a few street lights were the only thing lighting up the streets - one of them coming from the floristry.

The sales peaked around 6 PM to 9 PM when people finished their work to be with their loved ones. Ghost had absolutely no skills in flower arranging or wrapping, so he did all he could to help the other employees to pick tools or items from high shelves, and even change the lightbulb when one of them died. Ghost didn’t mind it one bit as he found simple domestic things like this relaxing compared to what he did in the military - full of pressure, stress, and blood.

Meanwhile, the utmost form of stress in Le Jardin’s (at least what he saw today), was a customer who kept changing the flowers that he wanted, and then lashing out at Fiona when his bouquet wasn’t tied the way he wanted to. Ghost almost wanted to step in, drag him out of the store, and throw him out to the streets, but Jade stepped in and calmly asked the customer for references, dealing with the situation one at a time, and finally, the man stomped out. Ghost knew that there were more variety of problems in retail, but at least he got to experience one today. To be honest that was probably the least angry person in London.

That was 3 hours ago. Now, there’s only the Le Jardins and Ghost; the father had come home at around 4 PM after finishing the decorations. He took a photo of the ballroom and showed it to his family and Ghost, who was quite amazed at the old man’s sense of composition and aesthetic.

The four of them were all in the front room, Gracie counting the revenues, Jade tidying up the display flowers, Eli wiping the windows, and Ghost sweeping the floors (again). The clock showed 00.23, the shop was empty, and even the cafe opposite them was already closed. As Ghost finished his chore, he put the cleaning tools to the side before approaching Jade.

“Are you not closin’? It’s past midnight.” He muttered to her, who was tidying up the edelweiss display.

Jade smiled, “We usually extend about an hour.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Just as he was about to question it, the phone rang besides Gracie, who picked up the call immediately,

“Le Jardin Floristry. Yes, we are still open. You might be our last client, Sir. We do have tulips available. What colour? Red and pink, got it. The bouquet will be here when you arrive. Yes. We’ll be here, Sir, don’t worry. Thank you!” After confirming the order, Gracie smiled towards Ghost as she put the phone back. “That’s why, Simon Dear.”

About twenty minutes later, a man entered the shop in a hurry, dressed in a dirty fire brigade jacket. He clearly just finished his work and then drove to the floristry immediately after he extinguished whatever fire broke out somewhere. The moustached man approached the counter, where Jade had his order ready. “I’m here for my tulips?” He muttered, clearly tired from the way he panted.

“Here it is, Sir. That’ll be 18 pounds.”

“Thank you so much. You guys were the only shop open at this time. I’m forever grateful. I already told my wife and children that I’ll be late, but I truly felt bad.” He pulled out his wallet before putting a 20-pound note on the counter.

“A pleasure for us, Sir. Have a good night!” Gracie chimed as he took the tulips in his hands, exited the shop and finally drove off. With that, Eli flipped the ‘Open’ tag to the ‘Closed’ tag.

“Delightful! Now.” Mr. Le Jardin put his hands on his hips, “Let’s have dinner.” Once Ghost heard that, he immediately planned his escape from the floristry like he needed to escape an enemy’s vicinity.

“Simon Dear, you’re joining us, aren’t you?” But after hearing the gentle yet commanding tone coming out of Gracie, he decided against it, as what he heard in his ear was, ‘We’re going to have a conversation about you and my daughter’.

—-------

Fuck. There’s the question. “No, Ma’am." He replied slowly, "Not yet."

“So, Simon Dear.” Gracie's voice startled Ghost as he was cutting the carrots for the chicken soup they're making, all the while Gracie was stirring the ladle on the pot. His hood was still up on his head, but he's taken off his mask to smell the chicken broth in front of him. He figured that if there's a civilian he'd let see his face, it's an ex-MI6 whose daughter he loved.

It was only the two of them in the kitchen on the third floor as Eli and his daughter were still tidying up the first floor. “Are you Lottie’s boyfriend?”

Ghost expected a questioning look followed by a 'why', but instead she gave him a light nod. “She’s very fond of you, I think you should know." That one caught Ghost's attention, briefly slowing down his slices. Did Jade talk to her mother about him?

"The way she talks about you, I know how deeply she really cared for you. She saw her future with no man, at all, until she met you. Had to do with 'understanding one another' she said." Gracie put in more black pepper into the pot.

“May I know, what stopped you from committing to her?”

More questions to answer, but this one, he didn't know how to answer.

“...I don’t know, Ma'am."

Not long, Gracie muttered with a tone he almost forgot. Motherly. “...Are you afraid?”

And that's when he found himself so vulnerable, so open. And the weird thing was, he only felt like this when he's with Jade. He thought Gracie's her adoptive mother, but this magical familial trait where people could instantly open up to them was almost scary.

He expected judgement, but what came was a light smile. “You remind me of Eli and me, back when we were still with MI6."

Was it a yes? No, he's not afraid. He just thought that if they started dating, she might be wasting her time with him. Well, he's afraid that all this love that he's feeling and all these moments with be for naught if he's just dead after a deployment gone wrong. He can't promise anything to her. Ghost knew how serious Jade was about a relationship. She wanted a long-lasting one.

Ghost didn't mutter a word out of his mouth. Only continuing his work. He could feel her gaze on him, but he still chose to stay silent.

"He was afraid of the life we’ll lead. Constantly running, followed by death everywhere we go. Stability and domesticity was a dream impossible to achieve.” As Ghost listened and wondered how the fuck did she read his mind, he lifted the cutting board and poured the cube-cut carrot into the pot.

“However, I can tell him anything, he can tell me anything.” Gracie continued, looking up at him. Her gaze was as soft as Jade's, grey eyes softly gazing into his soul. “Eli had his own problems, I had my own, but what mattered was the fact that we both tried to be better, for my own sake, and for his sake.”

“He was my best friend, and I was his. It was a leap of faith to be together.” She said as her palm tapped his shoulder firmly.

“I’m saying this as her mother. If you love her, then go all in. She deserves all of you.”

---

Dinner was eventful, to say the least. The Le Jardins, plus Ghost, ate their dinner together in their house on the third floor. Chicken and vegetable soup accompanied by warm cups of tea was enough to fill their stomachs. Ghost, of course, had to take his hood down and took off his face mask to eat with the three of them.

It felt odd.

When was the last time he had a family dinner like this? Eating a delicious meal without having to find a place where there's no other people? A place where he could freely show his face to others, the warmth of a family?

It didn't take long for Eli to finish his meal, as he stood up and put on 'La Vie en Rose' by Louis Armstrong on the classic gramophone. Gracie scoffed loudly, stood up, and took Eli's hand in hers.

"Heeeere we go." Jade rolled her eyes, seeming like she had to watch this for the thousandth time.

As Louis Armstrong started to sing, the two old couple put out an amazing slow dancing show in front of Ghost and Jade. Seeing them so unashamedly happy, and the fact that both of their eyes only stared at each other with so much love, Ghost unconsciously smiled.

And when he turned to look at Jade, there was she, two hands holding her phone horizontally, taking a video of her parents, grinning ear to ear while her eyes gleamed with joy.

It's such a warm scene to witness.

He only hoped it was him and her in place of Eli and Gracie.

—------------

The time showed 02.13. Ghost and Jade were standing in front of the shop, a long scarf wrapped around Ghost's neck as the cold was harsh that time of the day. Jade insisted that he wore them, or she said he would catch a cold.

"Thank you, Ghost. For today. My dad had been having regular trouble with his knee, so thank you so so much." Jade started, cheeks blushing that was certainly not because of the February winter.

"Well, I doubt that, considering how well he danced with your mum." Ghost replied, making Jade laugh. Her smile was a sight he'd never get tired of seeing. “Are you going anywhere tomorrow?”

That question quite surprised her. “Well… Tomorrow my shift starts at 3 PM. So I'm free in the morning. Why?"

“I want to make do for today. We haven’t had a proper… date. Yet. I honestly had wanted to bring you flowers, but I remembered you're a florist. So I felt like a prat.”

Her face turned as red as tulips at that. “Honestly, you helping out in the shop was more romantic than anything you could ever give."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! So… what are you thinkin’ for tomorrow? What do you wanna do, Ghost?”

“What do you wanna do?” He asked back.

“Oh? W-well… Hmmm." Jade contemplated, pouting her lips, glancing at the moon high in the sky. "Ice skating. And then Korean barbecue after.”

“I-Ice skating?” Ghost stuttered, not expecting that answer.

“Yeah. What, you afraid you’re gonna fall?”

“I have no clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold you if you do.”

He wanted to say something along the lines of 'fuck-off' or 'sod you'. But he deleted that reply before it came out of his mouth, instead saying, "Please do."

Jade grinned ear-to-ear at that response. She was anticipating a clap back from him, but it was such an unusually warm reply that she couldn't help the blush in her cheeks.

No matter how much she wanted him to stay close to her, he had to go, and Jade said her goodbye. "Thank you for today. See you tomorrow, Simon."

Still standing still, Ghost muttered, "It was fun."

She thought he was going to start walking away towards his apartment, but instead, a glimmer of light reflected on his brown irises, still gazing at hers with such hopeful and wistful eyes.

And before she knew it, Ghost leaned in closer to her face, and placed a soft peck on her cheek.

As he stood back, Jade saw that his face burnt red, seeming like what he just did took great courage and resolution. His face still so close to hers, Ghost left her speechless.

And before she could say anything, he said his last words to her that night,

"See you tomorrow, Lottie."

----------------------

Hope you like it! (❁´◡`❁)

#WHEEEEEEEWWWW #if I can draw more scenes I would #but I'm just so PACKED #might draw more and add them to this post in the future #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #charlotte jade le jardin #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #art #ghost x oc #ghost x jade #valentine fic #valentines day fic

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onepiece-writer · 9 months

Text

His awakening in Wano Kuni

Pairings: gear 5 luffy x gn! Reader

This day is the Gear 5 day! The most epic episodes ever! Got that looney tune vibes in it. To celebrate, i made this just for you. So fasten your sealtbelt and get ready for Luffy to be alive again!

..........

You have just won the fight with a Tobi Roppo, and arrives to the middle of the castle. The castle itself was too confusing for you, and you met Nami, Otama, and Marco waiting for Luffy's victory.

You then saw Otama fill her eyes with tears. How long would Wano be in slavery? She couldn't take it all as a child, and cries on the spot. You saw Nami challenging the Emperor face to face. You agreed with Nami, that must be a lie. Your captain already promised to make a feast on your winning and Jinbe's arrival to the crew.

But when Kaido arrives on the floor saying that Luffy died, you were in denial. After breaking into the enemy's base, and being the only one that could defeat Kaido, how could he die?

Marco blocked Kaido's attack, saying that no matter what, we must survive at all cost. You didn't hear Luffy's voice either, did he die already? After what he's done to Arlong Park, Arabasta, Skypiea, Enies Lobby, Sabaody, Impel Down, Marineford, Fishman Island, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa, Whole Cake Island, and survived all that? You'd be bursting into tears right now, if not suddenly you saw a hand grabbing Kaido.

You feel the strong conqueror Haki coming from the rooftop. It wasn't Kaido, nor the CP-0 agent you saw. It was much stronger than ever. When a rubber hand grabbed Kaido, you saw something magnificent.

A white warrior was seen from up the sky, smiling and shining from the lights of the moon. He wears a white cardigan, outfit like Luffy. You doubted that it was him at first, but were assured when you heard his voice. He's alive at all.

The castle was burning in flames when your gaze was stuck on him. The straw hat he always wears was put on his back, hanging from the rope Nami sewed in Alabasta. He brings back the hope of the samurai below that almost lost hope, and within beats Kaido's ass to the fullest.

Yamato picks him up from below. He must have been so exhausted that he almost died not once, but twice. He then woke up two days later, to found you worried about him

"Shishishi! Did you see me turning all white?" He lunges himself towards you, smiling as always. "That was so cool, right?"

You nodded, and you couldn't help but gaze at him. Even though he died, with luck he rose from death and beat Kaido. He then eats all the meat that was served. Luffy still shares your food with him, though he still bites it a bit.

hope you enjoy. Im gonna wait for him to come back alive🔥🔥🔥🔥🤭🤭🤭

#one piece x reader #straw hat x reader #straw hat crew #monster trio x y/n #straw hat pirates #gear 5 luffy #gear 5th #gear 5 luffy x reader #one piece writingz

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 12

Part 1 Part 11

Steve’s starting to like Eddie the Freak Munson. It would be a problem if he thought they’d ever get out of here. He can almost hear Carol’s derision and Tommy’s violence should Eddie deign to speak to him in front of witnesses. They’d snicker into their milk cartons about torrid love affairs and queerness being communicable, as if there was no other reason for Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson to be seen together.

It would take minutes for Carol’s whispers to grow sharp, teeth bared into listening ears until Steve joins Eddie as person non grata to the Hawkins populace. Tommy would find Eddie opening his locker and slam his head into it, using fists and nails and slurs to make his opinion known.

Steve misses them.

But, he has Eddie now. Eddie, who says what he means. Who’s bandaged Steve up, pulled him off bathroom floors and grocery store aisles, and vine-filled alleyways. And he’s so goddamn distracting, Steve sometimes forgets how scared he is.

“Dungeons and dragons is like, for the creme de le creme, Harrington,” he says, pacing the length of his shoebox living room, gesturing wildly with one hand while the other throws his fucked-up dice up and down with surprising dexterity. “While you jocks are playing your sports ball, the rest of us are learning the ways of the blade.”

Steve laughs. “No, fucking way, man.��

Eddie spins, waggling his finger condescendingly in Steve’s face, towering over him where he’s seated on the Munson’s springy couch. “The blade is metaphorical, my liege, but the mettle we test and the bonds we strengthen are not!”

Steve leans back in his seat, slouching away from Eddie’s closeness. “You’re such a nerd.” He means it as a joke, but the way Eddie’s mouth twists makes regret curdle in his intestines. “So how does this work?” he asks, gesturing to the die now clutched in Eddie’s palm.

Eddie smiles, still leaning over him, dimples popping, before dropping to sit crisscross in front of Steve with alarming speed. He holds his hand out, throwing the die into Steve’s lap.

“Now, we’re talking Stevie,” Eddie says, flapping his hands, before shoving them beneath his butt and letting his bent knees flap instead. “It’s easy.”

Steve looks down at the die. It’s white and translucent, the red of the light from the windows turning it a soft pink. The edges feel almost sharp as he turns it over in his fingers, counting the sides. The numbers aren’t like normal dice, with the dots. They’re just numbers, slowly counting up, 1, 2, 3, all the way to twenty.

“There’s a dungeon master, moi,” he says, gesturing with grandiosity toward himself, “who spins a tale for the rest of the party.” Steve nods along, like he knows what a party means, or what a dungeon master is. “Alright, you ready, Stevie?”

“What? Munson, I didn’t agree to–”

Eddie jumps up, making Steve startle back, barely keeping hold of the die. “Sir Steven, arrives at the front of a castle. It’s covered in vines, they’re trailing up the windows, making it impossible to see the glass that covers them.”

Steve glances at the windows of the Munson trailer, the way the vines have blocked out more of the light, leaving trailing shadows like vines to cast shapes across the stained carpet.

“Sir Steven unmounts his horse,” Eddie says, miming lifting his leg off an imaginary beast and jumping down to the ground. Steve can almost picture it. “What do you do?”

Eddie’s making an almost uncomfortable amount of eye contact, eye’s shining with more life than he’s shown in what has to be days. “I go into the castle,” Steve replies, voice lilting in question. Is there a right answer?

Eddie claps his hands three times, quick and quiet, grinning as he drops back down, this time on the coffee table, leaning toward Steve. “Roll the die.”

Steve looks down at the die in his hand. He leans to the side, rolling it on the table by Eddie’s side. The clatter it makes as it bounces sounds loud in the absence of this world. It stops. Steve leans over at the same time as Eddie, Eddie’s hair tickling the back of his neck with the way it trails down.

“A nineteen!” Eddie says excitedly. “The door knob turns easily, both unlocked and well-oiled enough not to make a sound despite its apparent age. You walk into the castle. It’s dark in the foyer, but there’s a candle inexplicably lit, beckoning you up the stairs. Your armored feet clack loudly on the worn-down wooden floors as you walk up them. You reach the candle, what do you do?”

“I pick up the candle?” Steve asks.

Eddie picks up the die, putting it back into Steve’s hands. He rolls it. “Three?”

Eddie clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Just as you pick up the candle, it’s as if a breeze rolls through the whole castle. You keep a hold on the candlestick, but the flame goes out. You freeze. Sir Steven, you’re practically shaking in your boots! And then, a voice, dark and grating snarls out of the darkness in front of you, ‘who dares disturb my slumber??”

Steve looks down at the die, that damning three staring back at him. “So, low numbers make bad things happen, and high numbers make something good?” he asks.

Eddie waffles his hand back and forth, “sorta,” he says, pickup the die up off the coffee table and throwing it in the air again. “It’s more like, whether or not you complete that one action you list correctly. Like, a one is going to make you miss your target if you’re firing at something, yeah, but it doesn’t say anything about whether you should’ve been firing the gun in the first place.”

Steve digests this. “It’s kind of like sports stats,” he says, thinking aloud. “A high number of assists means you’re helping get the ball in the hoop, but it doesn’t say anything about how the game’s gonna go.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Eddie replies.

SIlence falls between them, the only sound the quiet slap of the die hitting Eddie’s palm. Steve waits. And waits. And waits. His impatience grows, “Well?”

Eddie snaps his eyes to Steve’s face, brow furrowed. “Well, what?”

“What happens with the sleeping dude?”

Eddie’s eyes open wide, more whites than pupil, as his mouth drops open, seemingly shocked by something Steve doesn’t understand. It takes him a second to continue, but he does.

Steve fights off some old magical wizard dude, destroying the castle and breaking the wizard’s curse in the process. He crumbles to dust. It’s kind of sad. He tells Eddie as much, only to get laughed at.

“He was tired, man,” he says. “All he wanted was for his nightmare to end, and someone to help him rest.”

Steve looks back at the vines crawling up the windows, and can’t help but empathize.

“I don’t know man,” he says. “Sports seem easier.”

Eddie laughs. “Sports are boring, Harrington. What’s there even to like about throwing a ball through a hoop like a bunch of cavemen?”

“It’s like,” Steve starts, before stalling out. Staring down at his knees. He’s still thinking about the wizard and how sad and tired he must’ve been. There’s something to be said about a game that doesn’t leave you in a moral quandary, wondering if assisted suicide is okay if the dude is tired and old enough.

“It’s like, when I’m swimming, or running the ball up the court, I’m so in my body that I’m out of it, you know?” Steve asks. “I don’t have to think about anything but the next step. Does that make sense?”

When he looks up from his knees, Eddie’s cheeks are rosy, and he’s holding a piece of hair in front of his mouth again. “Sure,” he says, voice almost squeaking out before he clears it, dropping it past his normal register, “That makes sense.”

Steve laughs. “Whatever, man.”

There are two feelings warring in Steve’s stomach. He’s more comfortable, here on a ratty couch playing a nerd game with Eddie Munson than he can ever remember being. He’s terrified of getting out, terrified of staying here, terrified of what waits for them outside these walls.

The feelings coalesce in his stomach, making him queasy. Or maybe he’s just hungry. He can almost smell the bacon frying on the griddle, can almost see Eddie in the booth across from him.

Maybe they can play his nerd game while they wait for a coffee refill. Steve sighs, not thinking of Tommy and Carol at all.

Part 13

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #my fic #psa that i dont know anything about d&d #so we're headcannoning that eddie dumbed it down a LOT for steve it's really because wtf do i know

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spideystevie · 2 years

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i knew

summary: 4 times you knew steve loved you + 1 time you knew you loved him

word count: 3.3k

a/n: title from the lizzy song where i got the idea from. i truly didn’t plan on this being as long as it is but i got carried away. takes place leading up to volume one. there’s a small amount of angst at the end but it’s mostly just lovesick idiots.

masterlist!

1. when he gets you a card

The day is slow at the bookstore but you don’t mind. It had been a week from hell as far as you were concerned and you felt like the universe owed you at least a small semblance of peace in the form of a quiet, late morning shift. When noon rolls around, the bell above the door rings.

“Welcome in,” you call out without looking towards the door. Your customer service voice sounds nothing like you and you subconsciously wrinkle your nose at the sound of it. You’ve made yourself busy behind the counter, still not looking up even when there’s no response, and hope whoever it is doesn’t need any immediate help.

Your back is turned for a moment and someone clears their throat behind you. You let out a small huff through your nose. “Can I help you?”

The words die in your throat when you turn around and lock eyes with Steve who’s all sly smiles and shining eyes. Your own smile slides across your face at the sight of him. He nods at your question. “Yeah, I was wondering if you knew where I could drop this off to make sure my girlfriend gets it?”

He holds up a small white envelope, your name etched across the back of it in blue ink. Your smile grows as you lean against the counter and hold out your hand. “What’s this for?”

Steve sets it into your open palm, watching carefully as you set it down on the counter. Your fingertips trace over the writing on the back and you feel an eager anticipation to rip into it and read what’s inside.

“Just because. I know you’ve been having a bit of a rough week so I thought I'd surprise you at work but then I got the idea on the way over to get a little something to surprise you with,” he says and the sound of your giggle floats through the air.

“A bit, is putting it lightly, but consider me surprised,” you joke, though it’s mostly true. He smiles softly.

“I thought maybe a card would help cheer you up or something. There’s a dinner date invitation for tonight included with it,” he says, reaching out across the counter to brush the back of his knuckles against your cheek. A warm trail follows in their wake.

“Stevie..” your voice is soft, caught between awe and disbelief. He’s rambling, over-explaining in hopes that you like it.

“I was worried for a second because when I got to the car, I realized I didn’t have a pen to write in it so I had to run back inside and ask for one and this little old lady gave me one from, like, the bottom of her purse and-” he pauses when he notices you swipe your finger underneath your eye with a sniffle. “Hey, woah, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, sniffling and letting out a wet laugh. The built up tension from the week mixed with the sudden swoop of emotion from Steve’s loving gesture brings tears to your eyes and you wipe at your wet cheeks. “Yeah I’m okay. This is just really sweet, I love it. I love you.”

His concerned frown morphs into a giddy smile and his eyes light up. You step around the checkout counter of the bookstore you work at to wrap your arms around his middle. His arms instinctively wrap themselves around you, holding you against him. He presses a kiss to your head. “I love you, too.”

And you feel it melting off of him and onto you as you hug him. A deep radiating warmth that makes your skin tingle and your heart jump against your ribcage. You feel it again later when you get home, finally opening the sealed envelope and reading the note he put inside before you get ready for dinner.

A whole mini love letter specifically designed for you, and signed by Steve in a messy scrawl of his handwriting.

2. when he walks you to your door

There’s a magic that comes to Steve Harrington loving you, you’re convinced. It’s the sole explanation you can come up with for the way everything seems to click into place, anything bad slipping into the shadows as you sit across from him at Enzo’s. Or when he makes you laugh just that much harder, the sweetness of the message in the card still stuck in a loop in your brain, as he drives you home.

He insists on walking you to your door when he drops you off after dinner that night, ignoring your protests about your front door being only a few feet away and that nothing was going to get you. He holds your hand under the yellow porch light and somehow he still looks heavenly underneath it.

You feel sixteen again standing on your porch waiting for a kiss goodnight after a first date. A warm feeling buzzes in your chest as you stare at him, his eyes regarding you like you just sewed the stars into the sky above you.

“Thank you,” you say, soft tone of voice blending in with the hum of electricity and crickets in the yard. There’s a gentle smile on his face but a question lurking behind his eyes.

“For what?” it's a small murmur, thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands extended in between the both of you. You glance down at them, lifting your shoulder in a brief shrug.

“For…everything, I dunno,” you look back up at him, eyes almost doe like in their softness. “Specifically the card and dinner. And just for being you.”

Steve squeezes your hands three times, a silent I love you, a gentle reminder. His smile widens and he takes a step forward, closing the already limited space between you. Two moths flutter under the porch light just above his head and he takes a second to swat them away.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you,” his cadence is like a melody to your ears, the warmth in your chest swelling until it spills over into the rest of your body. You take a small step forward this time, joined hands falling to make room for your chest to brush his.

One of his hands comes up to brush against your cheek, palm pressing flat against it and tilting your head to press his lips to yours. Your heart flutters like the moths above, body caving into his like a moth drawn to a flame. That teenage feeling hits again and you can’t help the smile you let slip into the kiss.

You pull back a hair, nose bumping his and the taste of his smile still on your tongue. “Something tells me you might have a crush on me, Harrington.”

You can feel the breath from his laugh against your face, giggling as his nose brushes yours and he shakes his head. He mutters a soft shut up, swallowing your giggles as he kisses you again and again, until you’re breathless and a little dizzy. You step back with a smile that’s a little shy.

When you say goodnight, he squeezes your hands again and leaves a lingering kiss on your cheek instead. You watch him walk back to his car, waving from the door until he’s turning the ignition. And when the door shuts, you’re pressing your back against it, listening to the hum of the engine as he drives off, a giddy smile taking up permanent residence on your face.

3. when he ties your shoe for you

It’s snowing when the two of you come out of the movie theater and there’s a harsh nip in the wind that rushes by. You’re shoving your free hand and the one connected to Steve’s into the pockets of your coat. He’s talking with his one hand, voice animated as he shares his opinions about the movie you had just watched.

You nod along, laughing a little under your breath. It’s not a long walk to where his car is parked but it feels like an eternity for how cold it is. Snowflakes land in your eyelashes and you blink them away, eyes landing on one that rests on the slope of Steve’s nose. He subconsciously wrinkles his nose, the movement melting it into his skin.

As you walk, the laces of your right shoe unravel from their bow. The ends hitting against the sliver of exposed ankle from your jeans alert you and you look down. He’s mid-sentence and you feel a little bad when you interrupt him. “Oh! Hold that thought, my shoe’s untied.”

You pause, Steve stopping in sync with you in the middle of the deserted sidewalk. He lets go of your hand but as you start to bend down, he stops you. He’s already stepping in front of you and dropping to the ground when he says, “Here, let me.”

You watch with an enamored smile as his fingers work the laces into a double knot. The snow on the ground makes his hair look a darker brown and you wonder if his fingers are aching from the cold. The snow falling from the sky is starting to turn into sleet, wet when it lands against your cheek and in his hair.

“There,” he taps the inside of your shoe. Steve looks up, a small grin on his face. You feel it again as he’s looking at you. That all encompassing warmth, a tingling serenity that comes from the certainty that he loves you. So much so that he’d drop down to tie your shoe for you. “All done.”

The tip of his nose is pink from the frost bitten air outside and you can’t feel your cheeks all that much any more, but you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. You grin, offering your hand to help pull him up from the low squat he’s in.

“My Prince Charming,” you tease, shoulder nudging his side as you relace your fingers together. He shakes his head, pressing a searing kiss to your rather cold cheek.

When you reach his car, he doesn’t open your door right away. Instead, he cradles your face in his hands. His hands are somehow warm despite the weather but maybe your cheeks are just cold. You don’t get much time to think about it as he brings his face down to yours, catching your lips in a searing kiss that warms the both of you up just fine.

You look a little dazed when he pulls back, blinking slowly with stars in your eyes. The kiss had taken you a little by surprise and your voice comes out quiet and a little shy when you ask, “What was that for?”

“Just love you,” he kisses the tip of your chill-bitten nose and reaches around you to open your door. You can’t bite back the giddy love sick smile that spreads while you sit in the car and watch him cross in front to get to the driver’s side.

4. when he learns your favorite song

The weather starts to ease later in the week with the days growing slightly warmer and the lingering patches of snow lining the roads melting into the ground. Even still, you layer one of your heavier jackets over top a sweatshirt of Steve’s before heading out to see him.

When you pull into the parking lot of Family Video, it’s nearly deserted save for the all too familiar red BMW. The interior is even more deserted when you step inside, the bell over the door barely heard from the music being played from the old boombox on the counter.

You briefly notice Robin restocking towards the back but your attention is pulled entirely to your boyfriend, swaying a little to the mixtape playing and singing along just barely. He doesn’t see you come in, and he definitely didn’t hear you either.

Whitney Houston’s, How Will I Know, plays through the speakers and as you step closer, Steve finally turns around and nearly jumps at the sight of you. His cheeks start to burn and you grin at the soft red that stretches from cheek to cheek. He turns the volume down enough to hear you when you speak as you lean against the counter.

“Since when do you listen to Whitney Houston?” you’re half teasing, half genuinely curious. Your smile twists into something a little bit confused and Steve thinks the way your eyebrows furrow a little as you tilt your head has to be the cutest thing he’s seen all day. He shrugs, leaning across until your forearms are touching.

“Since you mentioned this being your favorite song,” he says it in a way that’s nonchalant but the way you react is anything but. Your whole body warms making it almost entirely too hot for your layers. You flip one of your hands palm up, watching as Steve’s fingers dance across the skin before sliding easily into place between yours.

Until now, you hadn’t thought Steve had heard you when you turned his radio on driving home from the movie theater. You had tuned through the channels, landing on the one that was playing How Will I Know and increasing the volume while softly remarking, “Oh! I love this song.”

“I hadn’t thought you heard me,” your voice is soft again, an enamored look in your eyes as you make eye contact with Steve. There’s something like thick honey, something more intensely tender and affectionate than normal in his gaze and you can feel yourself sinking deep into it.

“I always hear you,” you can feel that same warmth again, sitting deep in your chest and making your face feverish to the touch. Your emotions are on cloud nine and in a blink you’re pushing forward on your toes over the counter, to kiss your boyfriend. One of your palms lays flat on his cheek, holding him to you.

“Oh gross, guys, really?” Robin says, though her voice holds no real disgust. You break apart from Steve with a laugh, feet falling flat back onto the ground. Your smile is love sick and it matches the look in Steve’s eyes as he rolls them at his best friend.

You squeeze his hand three times, quick, almost fleeting and let yourself get carried away by the feeling of his all-consuming love for you when he squeezes back.

5. when you can’t fall asleep at night

When you had walked in on Steve singing along to your favorite song a month earlier, you never thought the sweetness of the memory would’ve held the weight it does now. Now, you have How Will I Know on a looping tape sitting in the glovebox of his car as a precautionary.

A twinge of guilt is quick to bite when you let yourself feel an ounce of relief that you haven’t needed to use it because every moment you’re not using yours, Max is using hers. Beneath it all is a deep feeling of unease, one that hasn’t left since you were in the Creel House.

Steve’s hand finds yours beneath the sheets, squeezing three times saying both I love you and I’m here for you all at once. It makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst and you smile weakly at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

Your body feels tired, limbs heavy with exhaustion and the weight of your never-ending worry. His bed is as cozy as ever and his sheets smell like him, the scent of his shampoo joining the mix from the damp hair on both of your heads. It’s grounding and for a minute you think you might actually be able to get some sleep tonight.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve says, deep hints of concern swirling in his eyes. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Just thinking,” you say, voice a little muffled from your cheek being squished against the pillow. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you follow the movement with your eyes.

“About..?” he muses, slowly trying to work it out of you. You know what he’s doing, almost hate that he knows you as well as he does.

“How I never would’ve imagined my favorite song leading us to this moment,” you say and Steve gives you a minute in case you have more to say. “I’m so scared, Steve. And I know we’ve done this whole monster fighting before but it feels…different this time.”

It’s hard to really read his expression in the dim light of his bedside lamp, the lightbulb is dying and you had jumped earlier when it flickered. His thumb rubs soothing circles across the back of your hand.

“You know I won’t let anything happen to you, right?” he asks after a minute and you nod.

“I know that,” it’s a barely there whisper. You don’t say anything else.

“Besides, we’ve got Whitney Houston on speed dial if anything happens,” he means it as a joke but there’s no denying the seriousness lingering in the background. Regardless, it gets a smile out of you albeit small.

“Wish we could have one more normal moment with it,” you confess and Steve’s lips quirk up a little.

“What I wouldn’t give to hear Henderson beg me to turn it off just so he doesn’t have to hear us sing along anymore,” the memory causes you to giggle, making the worries plaguing your mind slip away momentarily into the shadows. He can’t help the grin that rises at the sound.

“He was so mad at us,” you agree, the pit in your chest being replaced with the fire of fond memories. Your giggles fade into a silence.

“We’ll have more normal moments with it,” Steve says. He moves to share your pillow, your noses touching and his breath warm against your face. He tilts his head up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead and murmurs against your skin, “I promise.”

He kisses you once, reassuring and soft and it feels like home. After a promise from you that it was okay, he lets go of your hand and turns over to click the bedside lamp off. The darkness takes your eyes a second to get used to but you can still feel Steve pressed close to you. Your legs are a mess of limbs, bodies interwoven so you’re not sure where you start and he ends.

You’re so familiar with the feeling you get when you’re reminded how much Steve loves you and as you listen to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you feel it tenfold with how much you love him. He’s falling asleep in front of you and suddenly you feel overwhelmed he even exists.

Steve who always steps first into the battle. Steve who worries so much about everyone else, he barely has time to worry about himself. Steve who doesn’t think twice before protecting the people he loves, even if it leaves him with a busted lip and a black eye. Steve who lets you sleep in his bed whenever the nightmares resurface and you can’t sleep alone.

Through the moonlight filtering in through his curtains, you can make out the fluttering of his eyelids. You chew on your bottom lip, rolling over the constant stream of thoughts in your head. After a minute, you give in.

“Steve?” your voice sounds so small.

“Hm?”

It’s muffled and barely audible but your hesitancy bleeds into relief when you hear him.

“I love you. I love you so much,” your chest tightens in the best way when a sleepy grin slides onto his face, his eyes still closed.

“”M’love you, too,” his words are slurred, thick with sleep.

This time, you smooth the, now dry, hair back from his forehead and press a soft kiss to the space revealed. You settle back against the pillow, smiling when he finds your hand in his sleep driven state and squeezes. Your Steve, who even in sleep, makes sure you know how much he loves you.

#am actually loving this one #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #📝: a writes!

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