#Oh Hello you! (Returning characters/Anons)

[cecesslesswatcher]

"I refuse to become another damn mystery."

Caoimhe [Redacted]

Assigned Female at Birth

They/Them, 13-16 years old, 5'2 (157.48 cm), About 120 pounds

Born June 3rd

Physical Appearance: Wears slightly ripped and tattered overalls and long sleeved turtleneck, a space themed necklace they constantly wear and an eye tattoo on their forehead, and eyes similar to a spider's with two large blue eyes and two smaller eyes that shift from green to blue to purple. Blonde hair with faded dye, making the hair look a dirty brown with the ends being black.

Notes: Has a slight accent (it's hard to tell know which one as of currently, likely American with some British influence), has some recollection of before they formed, being forcibly ripped into reality, though no longer malnourished they are underweight and still decently weak, along with paranoid. Can be easily manipulated by people who pose as trustworthy or people who assist them when in need. Has a slight dislike/fear of adults who are bigger than them (ex. Being twice their size or are able to easily loom over them.)

Additional: Caoimhe has an entity known as "Watcher" or "The Watcher" following them. Acting as a sort of guide/guard dog to the child. Xe is a shapeshifting being seemingly made of shadows with green and purple eyes covering its body except for when acting as a part of Caoimhe's shadow. It is only about to communicate with Caoimhe through what is likely a telepathic link as xe has no mouth.

Text guides:

*{Terminus}* (main narration)

~Puppeteer~ (controlled narration)

*Watcher* (narrates itself)

Caoimhe/Caoimhe (speaking/muttered)

Mod 🪣 (will use parentheses or slashes, occasionally in tags)

Reference under cut.

[baldval]

heyy! You dont have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable it is a little darker…

can i request overlords finding out that reader selfharms? Like they knew she was unstable but they didnt think that much

thank you!!!

BEING COMFORTED BY HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡

characters: alastor, vox, velvette, valentino, lucifer, adam

warnings: sad reader, slightly ooc adam (that man is so hard to write omg)

a/n: ik i said i'm comfortable w darker asks, i just don't really feel ok w writing about such heavy/negative topics (especially sh), but don't worry anon, should've added that mb. anyways, i give you hazbin characters comforting reader in return 🫶🫶

ALASTOR:

ᯓ he’s not exactly a ‘sit down and talk about feelings’ type of person

ᯓ but he can tell when something’s wrong

ᯓ and he wants nothing more but to make you feel like you’re on top of the world

ᯓ he sees your pouty face when you get home

ᯓ “hey, darling, come look,” he says

ᯓ he’d been at work when you’d left

ᯓ so he’s had some time to figure out what to do for you without making it seem like he’s prying

ᯓ he’ll ask you about what’s bothering you once you’ve relaxed

ᯓ he plops down on the couch, dragging you with him

ᯓ your favorite movie is paused on the tv, waiting to be played

ᯓ “i found an extended version. with bloopers and deleted scenes and everything,” he murmurs

ᯓ the entire movie, his hand is rubbing up and down your back

ᯓ his fingers sometimes creep up your neck, playing gently with your hair

ᯓ the entire thing is extremely soothing

ᯓ you know he knows something’s wrong

ᯓ and you also know he’s going to do everything in his power to fix it

ᯓ and you’re so grateful he just loves you

VOX:

ᯓ he doesn’t need you to say anything, ever

ᯓ he just knows what you need

ᯓ when he comes home and finds you in bed early, he knows you’ve had a difficult day

ᯓ he doesn’t know what happened, but he won’t ask until you’re feeling better

ᯓ he changes out of his work clothes and just gets into bed with you

ᯓ when you don’t say anything either, he pulls you into a cuddle, one hand pressing your head to his chest and the other cupping your hip

ᯓ “hi, vox.”

ᯓ he peppers your face in kisses

ᯓ “feeling off?” he asks

ᯓ you nod

ᯓ his fingers go to stroke your jaw

ᯓ “you can talk to me, you know. i want to make it better,” he tells you

ᯓ so you tell him everything

ᯓ whatever the issue was, the next day, he’s found some way to solve it

ᯓ just for you

ᯓ anything for you

VELVETTE:

ᯓ the minute you come home from work, exhaustion and misery rolling off of you in waves, she demands to know what’s wrong

ᯓ “is someone bothering you? is it your boss again? because i can get him fired.”

ᯓ you tell her everything

ᯓ she promises to help you with whatever it is that’s causing you trouble

ᯓ she’d tip the earth off it’s axis if you asked

ᯓ “come here, i want a kiss,” she tells you

ᯓ you very happily oblige

ᯓ she spends the entire night just spoiling (and worshiping) you

ᯓ the sheets of your bed are tangled between both your legs

ᯓ you’ve never felt more loved

ᯓ she murmurs about how your aniversary is coming up

ᯓ and tells you to get your nails done and dress pretty

ᯓ you don’t really know how you got here

ᯓ but you’re not upset

ᯓ you smile up at the ceiling, delightedly dazed

ᯓ you don’t even remember why you were upset

VALENTINO:

ᯓ he feels what you feel

ᯓ and at this point he can never leave you alone

ᯓ he NEEDS to be with you 24/7

ᯓ so naturally it’s like he’s dying when you come home looking upset

ᯓ “hey, no kiss hello?” he whines

ᯓ that manages to get you to laugh

ᯓ he smiles at your smiling

ᯓ you go over to kiss him and he catches your wrist before you walk off

ᯓ “no, c’mere,” he insists

ᯓ he tugs you into his lap and winds his arms around your waist

ᯓ he sets his chin on your shoulder

ᯓ “why’re you upset?”

ᯓ “oh, it’s nothing, val.”

ᯓ “bullshit.”

ᯓ you spill

ᯓ he rubs circles into your hip bone

ᯓ “i’d be upset, too,” he admits

ᯓ he kisses all up your neck

ᯓ “but we don’t have to think about that at all now. can we just spend some time together? i promise, though, if you’re still having problems i’ll gladly fuck up as many lives as you need.”

ᯓ you laugh, making him laugh

ᯓ you spend the rest of the night just sitting there talking to him

LUCIFER:

ᯓ the two of you are watching your current show, as you do every night, and he notices you’re zoning out

ᯓ he pauses it and looks down at you

ᯓ he dots a couple kisses over your brow

ᯓ “everything okay?”

ᯓ “rough day…”

ᯓ “why didn’t you tell me?”

ᯓ his expression is one of concern now, yet still absolutely laden with affection

ᯓ “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to keeping things from you or anything. i just don’t want to bother you.”

ᯓ “i want you to bother me. say everything that comes into your brain, i want to hear it.”

ᯓ he pulls you closer, palm smoothing over the back of your neck as he sets your head against his chest

ᯓ you tell him about your day, and how you were getting so frustrated

ᯓ frustrated everything was going wrong today, frustrated that the entire week was going wrong

ᯓ he listens intently, stroking your hair the entire time

ᯓ he gives soft “mhms” and “of courses” at your words

ᯓ he peppers warm kisses all over your face

ᯓ he does his best to give you a solution

ᯓ even if what he suggested doesn’t work, he’s sending you flowers to your house for the next week

ADAM:

ᯓ he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit

ᯓ he’s a little nervous to ask what’s wrong

ᯓ he’s afraid he won’t know what to do to make you feel better

ᯓ “hey, uh, everything okay?”

ᯓ you shrug

ᯓ “wanna talk about it?”

ᯓ you tell him everything

ᯓ he nods the entire time, his eyes never leaving your face

ᯓ he’s trying to memorize everything you’re saying

ᯓ he doesn’t really have any great solutions

ᯓ and he kind of hates himself for it

ᯓ he wants to help you, even if he doesn't make it obvious

ᯓ “hey, how about we go out tonight? take your mind off things.”

ᯓ you spend the night at dinner then wandering through a night market

ᯓ you both talk nonstop

ᯓ he gets you a bunch of trinkets

ᯓ just things that remind him of you

ᯓ and a bracelet, too

ᯓ he spends a bit of time fiddling with the clasp, eventually hooking it together and letting it sit on your wrist

ᯓ you don’t take the bracelet off

ᯓ ever

ᯓ at home, he’s worried you’re still upset

ᯓ but you’re not

ᯓ you fall asleep curled up against him, your worries now nonexistent

[godslino]

IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway. 

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges. 

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned. 

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip. 

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron. 

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind. 

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched. 

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.” 

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.” 

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?” 

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant. 

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find. 

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful. 

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.” 

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain. 

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf. 

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all. 

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun. 

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way. 

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season. 

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.” 

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones. 

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs. 

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today. 

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted. 

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later. 

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach. 

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears. 

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung. 

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat. 

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.” 

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember. 

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong. 

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides. 

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. 

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them. 

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family. 

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake. 

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. 

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep. 

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own. 

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.” 

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world. 

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.” 

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own. 

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning. 

“But I can’t.” you choked. 

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you. 

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair. 

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend. 

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night. 

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles. 

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?” 

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you. 

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.” 

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.” 

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?” 

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going. 

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking. 

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?” 

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater. 

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder. 

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin. 

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others. 

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it. 

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub. 

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear. 

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias. 

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by. 

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm. 

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this. 

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting. 

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view. 

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers. 

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance. 

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything. 

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does. 

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible. 

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused. 

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away. 

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes. 

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust. 

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile. 

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench. 

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul. 

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?” 

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!” 

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back. 

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?” 

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with. 

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate. 

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him. 

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt. 

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest. 

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.” 

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set. 

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays. 

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets. 

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat. 

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh. 

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face. 

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further. 

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine. 

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out. 

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything. 

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat.. 

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him. 

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm. 

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.  

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics. 

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot. 

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.” 

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points. 

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?” 

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home. 

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. 

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true. 

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin. 

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick. 

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours. 

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life. 

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles. 

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him. 

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home. 

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways. 

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover. 

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. 

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip. 

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand. 

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual. 

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet. 

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass. 

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon. 

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no–  I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment. 

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.” 

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair. 

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“I love you.” you say first this time. 

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony. 

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless. 

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs. 

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter. 

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?” 

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin. 

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room. 

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks. 

You nod, slowly. 

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds. 

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.” 

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock. 

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving. 

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around. 

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded. 

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked. 

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle. 

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving. 

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere. 

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored. 

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks. 

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say. 

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.” 

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals. 

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place. 

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips. 

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

[ryusuisloveinterest]

Hello! Are your requests still open? If so, then may I ask a Stanley x reader where reader is an international student and xeno's fam is their host family? (you can toss in sum platonic xeno hcs too or smth) 😔😔😔

(YES THIS IS SPECIFIC THIS SCENARHAS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR AGESSS. No I'm not an in this situation I'm just curious on the take of an xreader where instead of being an actual sibling of another character they're a host sibling or sibling figure CAUSE I ALMOST NEVER SEE THOSE IM SORRY FOR DUMPINGG AHHHH)

ALSO IF REQUESTS ARE CLOSED THEN PLS IGNOREE

-🐝

hello🐝 anon! I tried to make it for whatever country or place they came from so I hope you enjoy!🫶🫶

Stanley x Xeno’s Exchange student Sibling💘

Let’s talk your relationship with Xeno first 

He literally decided to be part of the program because he wanted extra help with his work without complaint

But when a very energetic, loud, hyper student came to the door he wanted to throw you in a box and put a return to sender sticker on it 

Surprisingly though, he gets use to the loudness, and even finds it hard to work without it

His once boring office gets turned into a museum of things and pictures you made, consisting of the custom made picture frame of the two of you at a conference he took you to, the random sticky notes saying motivational words like, “keep up the good work bro :D” to a little less motivation with, “if you leave the toilet seat up again I’m gonna smash all of your equipment >:(”, and even a nice green couch you can just come and sit on if you’re ever bored or need help with your homework 

It honestly doesn’t take him long to start seeing you less as a helper and more of an actual sibling

As I’ve said before, I think Xeno has a fine line between his work life and his actual life, so since you were just supposed to be his apprentice he didn’t introduce you to Stanley

But as he’s built a relationship with you, he’d be thinking of ways to introduce the two of you

He decides to do something a little out of the ordinary for himself and you… A GOOD OLD AMERICAN FOOTBALL GAME

I headcanon that Stanley really likes football and is one of those guys with the jersey and yells at the tv

You go to a game with Xeno and you see Stanley sitting and scrolling on his phone 

Xeno introduces you two, explaining who each of you are

“Nice to meet you, Stanley! Xeno talks highly of you!”

“I can say the same for you Ms y/n.”

Ofc Stanley just gets super loud and obnoxious about the game and starts cheering, screaming, and cussing lol

Ofc if you’re foreign or don’t understand football that well you’ll have questions that Stanley’s more than happy to answer

He notices you just randomly cheering with him and getting mad when he gets mad

Then he notices your face, your laugh, and ofc your smile 

After that he starts asking Xeno about you more

“What’s y/n doing today?”

“Is y/n at school right now?”

“Is y/n gonna stop by the lab?”

The same could be said about you too

“How long have you and Stanley known each other?”

“Is Stanley coming over?”

“Do you think Stanley would want some food? I’ll pack extra just in case!”

He really doesn’t think much about it at first

He’s just happy that the two people he cares about like each other 

But he started noticing something when the two of you start hanging out with each other…without him

“Stanley what’re you doing here?”

“Oh y/n said that they wanted to pick strawberries so I thought I’d take them.”

Or

“Where’re you going y/n?”

“There’s this rock band I’ve always wanted to see so Stanley’s taking me!”

That’s when it clicks to him

Xeno goes to you first

“Are you and Stanley in a relationship?”

“Pfft I wish”

Que you making him sit there and letting you rant on how much you like Stanley while you’re kicking your feet and twirling your hair

Then he asks Stanley

“Y/n? I mean they are very beautiful, not in a weird way ofc, but we aren’t together. Why? Did they say something?”

He’ll take that as a yes

Xeno literally just puts you two together one day and just spills the beans for you two

All he asks is that you both take care of each other and if Stanley does anything bad he swears he’ll never breathe again-

Your relationship didn’t really change much when you became a couple 

He definitely gets more touchy feely though 

You’ll be standing there literally just minding your own business and you’ll feel an arm sneak across your waist

Or you’ll be chilling on the couch together and he’ll do the cheese yawn and wrap his arm around you but he makes it seem like the hottest thing ever

He tries to take you out every week or every other week

When you come home, standing on your porch and you and Stanley are tryna say bye to each other, one kiss normally leads to two which normally leads to a small make out session 

This queues Xeno flicking on and off the porch lights, still irritated that he has to continue to pull you two off of each other 

You, Xeno, and Stanley still have your little hang outs though and Xeno doesn’t have to scrape you and Stanley apart

You and Stanley do feel bad cause he has 3rd wheeled sometimes, you two have even thought about making a plan for him to go out with someone

Stanley loves your voice, whether you’re gossiping with him or just talking about your day he can listen to you days on end

[jam3sacaster]

“Don’t waste your time with him.” PT2

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by my sweet heart anon 🫶🏽 / Your uncle, Freddie Jones, introduces you to his new business partners, and you end up wishing he didn’t…

18+ FANFIC / SMUT, angsty, all the love triangle goodness. Direct continuation of PT1! This is not the end 💋 Reader character aged at 21. Enjoy! 🥰🫶🏽

The refulgent, white morning sun crept in through the dusty blinds of the Jones’ guest room. The four-poster bed was comprised of Jacobean oak, and embellished in a putrid oche bedspread. “Good mornin’, sweet’art.” Freddie whispered, prising open the bedroom door and suppressing a snigger at your just-awake appearance. Your mountain of hazelnut hair was tangled, and sleep crusted in the corner of your eyes. “Morning.” You groan wincing as your uncle twists open the blinds, releasing the blinding sunlight into the bedroom. “I just wanted to have a word.” He spoke softly, sitting on the edge of your bed as you shuffle to rest on your elbows. “I noticed Rupert and Declan taking an interest in ya’ yesterday. I know you’re a good girl n’ all that, but just be careful. I don’t wanna see you gettin’ hurt. They’re both popping’ over later to go over some expenses, just so ya’ know .” Freddie speaks calmly, rubbing his hand on your shoulder and shooting you a wry smile. Without responding, you nod and wait for him to exit the room, leaving you in a pile of duvets.

When you had sufficiently washed your thick sleep from your body, you trudged down the stairs — giant curled ringlets of hair falling down your shoulders and dressed in a soft white blouse adorned in intricate in aquamarine flowers, neckline exposing an amount of cleavage that would make your aunt Valerie seethe with embarrassment, and a matching blue corduroy skirt, legs bare and shaven. Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you just about manage to pour yourself a glass of orange juice before noticing your uncle Freddie sat at the table, brows furrowed and eyes scanning a piece of paper, Rupert on his left, Declan on his right. “Oh, hello angel.” Rupert spoke before Freddie could, using his leather brogue to pull out the chair next to him.

Taking a seat beside him and slamming your glass onto the table, Declan looked up at you, smiling awkwardly in a way that made his moustache curl pleasantly. “Your uncle is going through expenses. Very boring. Cigarette?” Rupert muttered, offering you a cigarette. Graciously, you accepted and allowed the sculpted man to light it. Taking an elongated drag, you sat back in your chair and attempted to disregard the utterly tedious chat of men. “…Right, Declan, let me show you.” You managed to hear as your ears attuned, watching as your uncle led Declan O’Hara out of the room.

Unwelcomely, your mind returned to the last time you and Rupert Campbell-Black were left alone. His thumb in your mouth, running soft laps around your tongue. The primal look of desire in his eyes. The burning heat in your thighs. “Terribly sorry about the last time I saw you.” He spoke gently, eyes affixed firmly on the inebriating sight of your cleavage. “Are you saying that because you mean it, or because Freddie told you to?” You questioned, puffing on your cigarette and straightening out your blouse. “Freddie told me to. I’m afraid the old boy caught us. I have been firmly warned to stay away.” He chuckles as he speaks, gaze following you as you bring your cigarette to your lips. “And are you going to?” You ask. “Oh darling, where’s the fun in doing what you’re told?” Rupert replies, smirk painted across his lips and his face inching closer towards you. Clasping his fingers through your tangled curls, Rupert kissed you, gently at first, but subsequently growing furiously in passion. His laboured breathing reverberated against your mouth as his hand rested on your thigh, snaking slowly to the clothed heat of your cunt. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are already.” He breathlessly spoke. “Feel me properly.” You muttered, and barely finished before Rupert was parting your pants to the side, rubbing his finger over your swollen clit and promptly entering you with ease. Simultaneously, you gasped — him in delight, you in shock. “You’re so tight.” He reaffirmed, lust overcoming his body in violent waves.

Freddie and Declan’s re-entrance to the kitchen cut the tension, like someone snipping at an outstretched elastic band, you both sprung back into reality. Rupert frantically removed his finger, skin itching with irritation. “Whiskey, anybody?” You huffed, and jumped out of your seat. Rupert stayed where he was, turned towards your empty seat, and closed his eyes momentarily in exasperation. “Yes. Let’s. There’s a nice bottle in the attic larder, I’ll ask Val to get it.” Freddie chuckled in his usual friendly way. “Oh, don’t bother her. I’ll get it.” You beam, and hurriedly exit the kitchen and make your way to the downstairs attic.

Shuddering as you fought your way through thick sheets of cob webs, you opened the larder door down in the attic, scanning for whiskey as slow as you possibly could. Your heartbeat thumped melodiously as you thought about Rupert — there was something about those cerulean eyes that made you weak at the knees. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about ‘ya.” A soft, Irish voice spoke from behind you. Jumping slightly, you turn on your heels and become face to face with Declan. “What are you doing? Freddie will know you’ve followed me.” You chastise. “Don’t care. Do ya’ know how fuckin’ crazy it drives me to see Rupert lookin’ atcha like that?” He grunts, backing you against the cold brick wall. At least he thought he was just looking, you thought to yourself. His sheer brazenness sent shivers down your spine as he kept his arm outstretched by your head, keeping you enclosed.

“Oh yeah? Does it piss you off?” You goad, and see the corner of Declan’s lips twitching with fury. “Yes, it fuckin’ does. You have no idea what you do to me, girl. Sittin’ there with your tits on show.” He spits, pulling at the neckline of your blouse, exposing your perky tits held up by the most spectacular neon pink bra. The carnal sigh that left his mouth made you quiver — and his chocolate orbs washing over you made you want to kneel before him in a sacrilegious way. “I want to do things to you that Maud couldn’t have dreamed of.” You vocalise, touching a rather vulnerable nerve slightly. Declan’s body rippled, he wasn’t quite sure how to react. “Oh yeah?” He manages, but was quite disrupted by Valerie’s presence at the larder. “What on Earth are you doing?” Her squealing voice grated through you. Pulling your blouse swiftly back up over your bra, you wriggled from under Declan’s arm and pulled the first bottle from the cooler that you could reach.

“Sorry, Auntie Val. I’m so sorry.” You howled, speeding out of the room and suppressing an emergence of embarrassed tears. Declan, similarly ashamed, straightened his beige shirt and smiled sheepishly towards the tiny blonde. Valerie pointed a finger at him, indigo-painted fingernail almost touching the tip of his nose. “I know Fred-Fred has warned you and Rupert about staying away from our niece. I don’t think he’d be pleased to see… whatever this is. You should be ashamed of yourself, Mr O’Hara.”

-

Banishing yourself to your bedroom as their meeting droned on downstairs, you plunged your head into your pillow, sobbing silently to yourself. You didn’t know how or why these two men were having such a great effect on you, but your entanglements have to stop. Don’t waste your time on them.

[heizlut]

Jealousy (part 1)

"Can you write about Aether, Gorou, Kazuha and Albedo getting jealous because the reader is not paying attention to them (like is busy that day and didn’t have time to be with them)?" (anon ask/answer)

a/n: so i kind of added a little twist to the prompt... i hope you don't mind, anon! (any extra character mentioned has a purely platonic relationship with reader with no hidden agenda, i promise!!)

cw: none! this drabble is sfw but is suggestive

tags: multiple chars x reader (separate), possessive!aether (he gets his own tag b/c he gets a lil mean with it), gn!reader, no specific pronouns used (just they/them), use of y/n (plz forgive me), not really proofread (r.i.p)

read part 2 here!

check out my masterlist here!

Aether~

You and Aether almost always took commissions together, but today was different. Kaeya had approached you personally with the hope that you would accompany him on his business trip Sumeru that he took on to help relieve Jean of some of her workload. What fully convinced you to accept was that Kaeya had told you to consider it more as a vacation with just a touch of business on the side. You happily accepted, excited to have a break and being able to spend it with someone you considered a close friend. Caught up in the excitement, you failed to let Katheryne know to tell Aether that you would be gone for awhile.

Imagine Aether's surprise when he ends up on a commission in Sumeru a day later and sees you with Kaeya at one of the taverns. Your laughter rings in his ears as though Kaeya had just said the funniest thing in the world. Aether finds himself becoming frustrated... no, jealous. Not only had you failed to let him know you would be travelling to Sumeru for who knows how long, you were also there with Kaeya. He made his way over to where you both sat, taking the seat right next to before even greeting either of you. Your eyes widen as you realize the mistake you had made when you had forgotten to inform him of where you were going and with who.

Before you can even apologize, Aether has a fake smile plastered on his face, but you're quick to notice how his jaw is tensed as he places a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a harsh squeeze to let you know how he really felt, "Y/n and Kaeya, funny seeing you two here." The tone of his voice was saccharine and you shift a little nervously in your seat, only making Aether dig his fingers into the plushness of your thigh even more. Kaeya is quick to notice but chooses not to say anything about it, "Well hello, traveller. What brings you all the way here to Sumeru?" Aether holds that fake smile on his face as he tells Kaeya about the commission he was on and how it was oh so interesting that he couldn't find his lover who would normally accompany him. You look at Aether, a glint of possessiveness in his eyes as he steals a glance at you before looking back to Kaeya. "Apologies for whisking them away for a day. I simply wanted some familiar company around as I completed some business here", Kaeya offers a small smile. Aether hums in response, "Well then apologies for cutting this trip a bit short. I'm sure any remaining business you have here can be done without y/n" Kaeya nods in understanding, "You're quite right. Well then, I suppose I'll see you two when I return back to Mondstadt. Safe travels!" He stands up, excusing himself as he walks off toward the docks of Port Ormos. You seem to let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding as you turn to look at your jealous lover, "Aether... I'm so sorry." Aether simply tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Don't worry. You can always make it up to me."

Gorou~

Gorou was already not the biggest fan of Heizou, especially now that you were spending the day with him, having stated that you were helping him with a new case that had caught your own personal interest. It was already nearing sundown when you still had yet to return and Gorou excuses himself from the other soldiers chatting with him, now on a mission to find you and bring you back home, away from that sneaky detective. As soon as he makes his way towards the entrance of the camp, Gorou hears the sweet sound of your voice. He almost breathes out a sigh of relief only for it to get caught in his throat when he hears his own name fall from Heizou's lips in a comment that Gorou couldn't quite pick up from this distance. His ears press flat against his head as he makes his way towards both of you, moving as if he's about to enter into a battle. You smile sweetly when you finally spot your lover, beginning to raise your hand up in a wave. But your smile flaters slightly when you see a look of anger and.. was that jealousy in his eyes? Heizou pays no mind to the demeanor of the approaching general, offering his typical sly smile, "Why hello there, General Gorou~"

Gorou fights back the growl that's trying to claw its way from deep in his chest as finally stands in front of you both. He grabs your chin, turning your head at various angles as if he was inspecting you for anything amiss. When he sees that you're perfectly fine, he tilts your head up to look at him, a stern expression on his face, "I think your time spent with that detective is over." Heizou dramatically feins offense, "Oh, so now I'm just 'that detective'? I'm wounded." Gorou shoots him a glare but your sweet voice draws his attention back to you. You reach up to gently caress his cheek, looking at him so sweetly, "Gorou, I'm fine. There's no need to be so hostile. I'm sorry I was away all day. We just got caught up on so many new leads we both lost track of the time." Gorou's expression softens slightly at your words, realizing that he's gotten all worked up over something that really shouldn't bother him as much as it does. He lets go of your chin, letting out a heavy sigh as he wraps on arm around your waist, pulling you away from the detective, "S-sorry... Let's just head back to the tent now, yeah?" You let him pull you alongside him as Heizou watches you both walk away with a shit-eating grin on his face, having been quite entertained by Gorou's antics.

Kazuha~

Kazuha doesn't get jealous easily. He has always been such a laid back lover and felt secure with his relationship with you. However, you had spent almost your entire day with Thoma making sweaters for the cute little strays around Inazuma. He knows it's really such a silly thing to be jealous over, especially when you were simply helping Thoma care for the animals that most definitely deserved the love and care you both showed them. But what truly drove him to jealousy was that you seemed to have forgotten that you two had previously made plans to spend the next couple of days together before he had to board Beidou's ship that was heading for Liyue.

Kazuha did not want to interrupt you two, but the moment that Thoma had offered to knit you both matching sweaters, he felt the need to butt in. Neither you nor Thoma noticed Kazuha approaching, so of course you let out a small gasp when he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Hello, my dove. Have you been having fun today?" Kazuha was definitely making it well known that you were his and his alone. "Kazuha! I-", you stop yourself, your mouth falling open slightly when you realize that you had forgotten about your previously made plans with him. "Oh archons, Kaz, I am so so sorry. I completely forgot-", Kazuha cuts you off this time as he puts his fingers under your chin, tilting your head back just enough for him to press a deep kiss to your lips. Thoma stands there a bit dumbfounded as he watches the scene before him, a blush creeping onto his cheeks when he quickly clears his throat awkwardly, "I-i'll just get going now. I'll see you around, y/n." Kazuha hides his satisfied smirk by nuzzling into your neck.

Albedo~

Albedo hadn't seen you all day and after one of his most prized theories ended up falling apart, all he wanted to do was hold you and let his frustrations melt away. When he got back to his lab up in Dragonspine after being at the Knights of Favonius HQ all day, he expected you to be curled up reading a book with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you usually would. His soft smile faltered when he realizes that you are not there. He pauses for a moment when he sees a note left on one of his alchemy tables. Picking it up, he recognizes your handwriting instantly, 'Albedo, I am out helping Aether and Diluc over at Angel's Share. I am unsure of when I'll return, but I will do my best to be back before it gets to be too late in the evening♡'

Albedo has never quite understood human emotions, so when this strange feeling emerged and made his chest tighten, he wasn't exactly sure what it meant. Why did you have to spend the day with those two, especially the traveller? While he considered Aether to be a friend, Aether was still a traveller from another world with a mysterious aura about him, leading Albedo to wonder if he could be completely trusted. He found himself making his way back down Dragonspine and into Angel's Share. There he found you happily chatting away with the two men as you helped them organize the various crates of wine in the back. Diluc was the first to notice Albedo's presence, "Albedo, I never expected to see you here in Angel's Share. What brings you here this evening?" Albedo forces a slight polite smile onto his face, "Y/n, here left a note to tell me they were here with you and the traveller" His eyes meet yours, but there is a darker glint to them that you had never seen in your lover's eyes before especially when Aether's hand brushed against yours as he helped you set down a particularly heavy crate of wine.

Aether can't help the blush on his face as he mutters an apology to which you smile sweetly in return, letting him know it was okay. No, it most certainly wasn't okay, Albedo thinks to himself as the feeling in his chest begins to nag at him even more. He swiftly moves to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding your hand in his free one, moving it up to his lips as he presses a kiss to the top of it, "Love, I think it is time for us both to head back. It is quite late after all." His tone sounded sincere but had a hint of bitterness to it. You simply nod your head, letting your lover lead you out, but you don't fail to notice the cheeky smile he flashes back at the other two men as he raises his hand in a wave, "Have a nice evening."

a/n: i went a little feral writing these… clearly

[blindmagdalena]

The Cuckoo's Nest

18+ 6.3k siren!homelander x f!reader. dub/noncon, infidelity, mind/emotional manipulation, gaslighting, voice kink, masturbation, penetrative sex, fingering, blood, gore, cannibalism? creampie, stalking, minor character death, praise kink, good girl/pretty girl.

The gentle and pleasing voice of the cuckoo bird has made it a renowned herald of spring, and perhaps one of the most famous of songbirds. One would never guess merely by looking at it that it is a predatory parasite.

What you thought would be a dream job working for Vought as Homelander's very own secretary turns into a surreal waking nightmare as reality and dreams converge in a confusing mess. The only coherent thread that strings it all together is the alluring pull of Homelander's unnatural voice.

written for Monsterlander Mania. fair warning, this fic is fairly dark! thank you so much @anon-nee for this amazing banner art. 🖤

When you were hired as Homelander’s secretary, the gig had been pitched as a cushy desk job. Now that he’s the new face of Vought, and Ashley the company CEO, he needs someone who will keep his day to day affairs in order. Apparently, you’re just the person for that job.

“You probably won’t see much of him,” Ashley tells you distractedly. She rarely ever looks away from her phone for long.

“There are two landlines on your desk. The left one is for general business, and the one on the right, the red one, is exclusively for him. Don’t make calls on it. He has the number memorized, he’s the only one who’ll ever call it, so make sure you always answer it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say diligently.

Glancing over, Ashley does a double take. “Aren’t you married? Where’s your ring?”

You falter, looking down at your hands. “Oh,” you say, taking said ring out of your pocket. “I put hand cream on earlier, I just forgot to put it back on.”

“Make sure you keep that on,” she says, giving you a critical look before returning her gaze to her phone. “He’s particular.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Nevertheless, you make sure to always keep your wedding ring on while you’re at work.

True to Ashley’s word, you see neither hide nor hair of Homelander during your first three days. You make his appointments, you take calls on his behalf, and you organize his bookings.

In your office, directly across from your desk, hangs a borderline comically oversized portrait of him that stares relentlessly at you as you work. You often find yourself staring back at it, the back of your neck prickling with the irrational feeling of being watched.

You know that it’s just in your head, but you can’t help but be put off by the feeling. Sometimes you consider covering the portrait, but the last thing you want is for the man to appear out of the blue and see a blanket thrown over his likeness.

Your instinct proves correct.

“Hey you,” comes a voice like silk. You startle, looking up from your desk to find a shock of red, white and blue standing in your doorway, his arms folded casually behind his back.

“Homelander,” you say, nearly choking on the name. “Sir, hello. I’m–”

“I know,” he interjects smoothly, cape swaying behind him as he passes the threshold, making his way over to your desk. That voice. He’s not even said five words to you yet, but it lingers in your ears like warm honey, causing a flush of warmth to roll through you. You convince yourself that you’re just embarrassed to have been caught so thoroughly off guard. “My new secretary. Sorry I couldn’t stop by sooner.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize, sir. I know better than most how–” you hesitate, watching as he takes a turn and begins walking directly towards you, circling behind your desk. “–busy you are,” you finish, looking up at him as he looms over you. You wonder if you should stand, but he’s so close to you now, you’d just knock right into him.

He smells good. Earthy and slightly sweet, like vetiver.

“That’s pretty,” he remarks, gesturing to your ring finger. “Sapphire, huh? Unusual choice.”

You swallow, trying desperately to reign in the cadence of your breath. Your heart is pattering as wildly as rain drops. “Thank you. My husband chose it, it’s his birthstone.”

To which Homelander giggles. It’s a delighted, slightly off-putting little noise. “P’wow, he gave you a ring with his birthstone, huh? Really staking his claim,” he says, reaching down to take your hand. He looks at you just before he makes contact. His eyes are even bluer than the stone in your ring. “May I?”

Dumbstruck, you nod, lifting your hand and placing it in his upturned palm. He sits on your desk and turns your hand this way and that, watching the way your ring catches the light. Eventually, his gaze slips back to yours. “Happily married?”

“Very,” you say immediately, your throat suddenly dry.

He smiles, and only then do you notice how unusually sharp his canines are.

“Good. Glad to hear it,” he says, giving your hand a gentle pat before he lets it go. You immediately drop your hand into your lap, touching your ring. You feel strangely lightheaded all of a sudden, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. Even when he isn’t speaking, you can still hear the warmth of his tone echoing all around you.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he says, standing from your desk with preternatural elegance, as if he’d floated more than lifted himself.

“Please, the pleasure was all mine,” you say with a smile, somewhat dazed. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

He looks pleased as punch at that. “I’ll try not to be such a stranger, hmm?” he purrs, reaching out to give your shoulder a friendly squeeze. You feel the rumble of his voice roll all the way down your spine and into the core of you, leaving a light throb nestled between your thighs.

“I’d like that. Thank you, sir,” you say, your voice sounding dreamy and distant in your own ears.

Flashing that same toothy grin, he shoots you a wink before he turns face with a slight flourish of his cape, the fabric billowing in his wake as he takes his leave, disappearing down the hall.

The second he’s gone, it’s like the spell of his presence breaks and you come crashing back to yourself, eyes wide. A hot broil of shame rolls through you when you realize how aroused you are, that throb lingering. You’re equal parts shocked and disgusted with yourself, sickened by the hot prickle lingering on every inch of your skin.

Holy shit. What the fuck was that?

You wind up leaving an hour early, eager to be home. The shame makes you desperate to see your husband, as if touching him will erase the residual traces of the effect that Homelander had on your body.

It doesn’t. In fact, that feeling of being watched follows you all the way home, the feel of it becoming a specter haunting your house. When your husband seeks intimacy from you in your bed later that night, you push his hands away.

“Sorry,” you say softly, shaken. “Not tonight.”

Your body still remembers him too viscerally.

That night, you dream of songbirds.

Two days later, the right landline rings for the first time. You stare blankly at it, your stomach immediately twisting into knots. It rings, once, twice, nearly a third time before you hurriedly snatch it up off the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” comes Homelander’s familiar drawl. His voice falls over you like a wash of sunlight, warm and heavy. “Thought you might be ignoring me for a second there.”

“No, no, never. Sorry, sir,” you say, reaching for your water. You take a quick sip. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing too dire, just a little shuffling. Can you bump tomorrow’s 4pm to Thursday for me?” He asks, voice slipping around your throat like a noose. The press of it makes you slightly breathless.

“Of course,” you say, balancing the phone on your shoulder while you manipulate your tablet. “That’s no problem at all, done.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, the phone turning his voice into an intimate rumble in your ear.

You blink, feeling like your mouth is full of cotton. You can’t seem to form a response.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He asks, and you swear up and down you can hear a smile in his voice. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Was there anything else, sir?” You manage to blurt out, words leaving you in a clumsy spill. You’re breathing shallowly, mouth parched. You snatch up your water and take another quick sip. There’s a long pause on the line, the silence so deafening you think for a moment you must have missed something. “Sir?”

“Touch yourself.”

Your heart falls into your stomach, but that feeling is nothing compared to the unbidden liquid heat that those words erupt throughout your body.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says patiently. Amused, even. “Touch yourself. Take your hand–no, no, the left one,” he says in response to your right hand drifting down. You weren’t even aware you’d started moving. You swap the phone from your left hand to your right, and grab hold of your thigh with your left hand.

“I don’t understand,” you say, the words feeling as thick as molasses on your tongue. “Why are you–”

“That’s good. Now, move those pretty fingers in. Just like that,” he directs, and to your own distant horror, your hand moves, sliding between your legs and lifting up your skirt, your sparkling ring disappearing beneath it. You press your middle finger directly to your beating clit and let go a shuddering breath, massaging it through your panties.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how you like it, mm? Bet your husband still doesn’t know the first fuckin’ thing about how to make you feel good. He ever watch you do this to yourself, ever bother to learn how you like to be touched?”

Disoriented, you shake your head. Your hips reflexively lift to meet the smooth figure-eights you rub yourself with. You’re sure you’d agree to anything he said so long as he keeps talking.

“Didn’t think so. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need.”

The heat of his voice envelops you, makes your whole body feel aflame. You’ve never been so sensitive in your life, already shuddering and squirming in your seat from the intensity of sensation building beneath your fingers.

“Slow down. There’s no rush. You’re as good as mine now.”

His voice is like velvet but his words sting, needling something inside you that squirms. You screw your eyes shut and shake your head more fervently. “No, no, m’not… I don’t…”

“Shhhhh,” he hushes, the hiss of it like a serpent in your ear. “Give it up for me, sweetheart.”

A whimper escapes your throat, the noise all but choked out of you. You can’t move, save for the increasingly frantic stroke of your fingers. His voice is a physical caress that slips down the line of your throat, between your breasts, slinking in serpentine patterns until it spills over your fingers and–

You gasp awake, staring wide-eyed at your blurry ceiling as wave after wave of pure euphoria crashes over you, stealing your capacity for breath. You ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm in a state of delirium, the shadows on your ceiling dancing like a voyeuristic crowd. You’re not sure if it takes seconds, minutes or hours to end, your perception of time distorted by the sheer intensity of sensation.

Looking to your side, panting, you see your husband sleeping soundly beside you. His snores are faint and peaceful. The curtains of your balcony door billow softly with the night’s breeze.

Your day comes back to you in a slow blur. The phone call was real, you’re sure of it… Aren’t you? Reaching for your phone, you hurriedly log into your Vought calendar and check the schedule. Sure enough, in your history, you can see that you bumped his next day R&D meeting to Thursday. That was real.

You wrack your brain for the details of your day, trying to piece together how you got from there to here, and whether or not any of Homelander’s voice cooing lewd commands in your ear was real. 

It couldn’t have been. 

The more the dream fades from your mind, the more you remember the rest of your day. You remember hanging up the phone, finishing your work day as per usual, and going home to your husband. Though it’s all something of a strange blur, the memories are there.

Even so, the dream somehow feels more real than any of it.

It’s 5am and you doubt you’ll be sleeping again. You get up early, shower, and make breakfast all before your husband even makes it to the kitchen. Your dreams and the haze of yesterday fade with the rising sun, as all dreams and memories often do.

You’re in the process of putting your dishes away when he walks in, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You got an early start today?” He asks, biting back a yawn.

It’s cute. He’s cute. You feel an irrational spike of guilt.

It was just a dream.

“Didn’t sleep well,” you admit, kissing him on the cheek. You wrinkle your nose. “Oof, morning breath,” you say playfully, but there’s an edge of truth to it. You can’t explain it, but there’s something off about the way your husband smells this morning.

Your mind drifts wistfully to the pleasant memory of sweet vetiver.

By the time you make it to work, your morning is nothing but a distant recollection at the peripheral of your consciousness. 

Nonetheless, the sight of that bright red landline still makes you blush. 

You don’t see Homelander again for another three days. At least, not at work. In reality, you’re more aware of him than you’ve ever been in your life. His face is everywhere, be it TV or billboards. You see him in the grocery store, the post office, and even the goddamn DMV. You never really noticed until now how inescapable Homelander truly is.

It’s no wonder he continues to appear in your dreams, too. You can’t seem to remember any of them very well, but you know without a doubt each time you wake that you were haunted by sapphire blue eyes and a voice as decadent as sin.

Sometimes you recall a gorgeous view of the city hundreds of feet in the air. Other times you recall a blue bed, but the thing you remember most is mirrors. You see yourself clearly in them. You see him with you.

All the while a budding friction between you and your husband continues to grow. You find yourself telling him more often to brush his teeth, shower, anything to combat this bizarre stink he’s taken on. Some days it’s so bad, you swear you smell rotting meat before you realize it’s him. Even the sound of his voice grates on you, both rough and shrill in a way that agitates you further and further into isolation in the house you once happily shared.

On that third day at work, you’re penciling in a meeting regarding a potential collaboration with Superplastic when a rhythmic knock at the door jostles you from focus. You look up to call them in, but Homelander is already striding inside, stealing the words right off the tip of your tongue. 

“Goooood afternoon,” he drawls, the door falling shut behind him. For as much as you’ve continued to see and hear of him, you had forgotten how different he sounds in person, the force of his presence instantly a weight upon your body.

Your brain completely malfunctions. Night after night of erotic whispers suddenly crashes down upon you in visceral detail, how multiple times you woke to the throes of an orgasm with his voice still echoing in your ears. Humiliation and arousal flood you in equal measure, turning your skin hot.

Homelander smiles at you from the other side of your desk all the while. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks slyly. The question hurdles you backwards in time to the moment you were seated in this exact spot with him whispering downright pornographic filth into your ear, coaxing you into touching yourself into a frenzy.

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was a dream.

“Good afternoon, sir,” you finally manage to say, wincing internally at the sound of your own voice.

“Don’t be so formal,” he says, giving a dismissive little wave. “C’mon, call me Homelander,” he says, once again circling around behind your desk. Your eyes widen slightly, mouth bone dry when you try to swallow. He sweeps his cape out of the way before taking a leisurely seat on your desk. He lifts his brows, pinning you with an expectant stare. “Go on, try again.”

“Uh, good afternoon, Homelander,” you correct yourself. His proximity to you is making it hard to focus–there it is again, the scent of vetiver. He smells like summer grass warmed by the hot sun, and he has a gravitational pull to him that has you leaning subconsciously towards him.

His smile widens. “Much better.” His eyes narrow a touch, flickering down briefly before snapping back up to meet your gaze. 

“So! How’s the office, everything nice and cozy?” He asks, one hand braced next to him on your desk, the other gesturing vaguely about. Before you can even answer, he points to your lap. 

“Chair good? I know how important lumbar support is when you’re sitting all day.”

Discussing your lumbar support needs with Homelander certainly had not been on your bingo sheet.

“Uhm, yes, it’s–” Again, before you can get a real answer in, he’s sitting up and making sweeping motions with his hand.

“Let’s see, up, up, lemme take this bad boy for a spin,” he says, making your heart leap up into your throat when he catches you by your waist and effortlessly lifts you up out of your office chair, turning to set you on your feet. With a flourish of his cape, he drops down into your chair, legs spread wide.

You gawk momentarily, watching him spin side to side.

“Oop, there’s that lumbar,” he says, leaning back into it. He’s grinning at you all the while, the moment entirely surreal. You huff an incredulous little laugh, crossing your arms. He’s a little ridiculous, you realize, but personable. 

Have you been the problem this whole time, turning him into something he’s not? You’re starting to lose yourself in your thoughts as you watch him.  

“How about we test the suspension? C’mere,” he says, giving his thigh a pat. “Sit.”

You snap back to attention, your smile falling away. “Pardon?”

“Sit,” he says again, his smile a predatory curve of his lips. He pats his thigh again “Right here.”

You look down at his lap and then back up, your ears buzzing with the timbre of his voice. Logically, you know that what he’s just demanded is wildly inappropriate, yet the silken tone he said it in leaves you utterly agreeable. Slowly, you lower yourself into his lap, uncertain of why you wouldn’t abide by such a request.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he coos, bracketing your waist with his arms.

 ”That’s better, isn’t it?” He asks, his hands moving up and down your thighs. You shiver, a chill running down your spine despite the fervid heat of his body pressed along the back of yours.

A distant voice in the back of your mind whispers it wasn’t a dream, though you can barely hear it over the pounding of your own blood in your ears.

“Relax,” he murmurs, the word a warm huff on your neck. 

Like a marionette whose strings have been cut, your body goes slack against him. Your heart continues to race even as a wave of calm sweeps through you, the two sensations frantically battling one another. Eventually, however, your pulse succumbs to the warmth seeping from him, and you begin to calm, soothed by the slow sweeps of his palms and the way he’s muttering sweet nothings into your ear. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, the smile audible in his voice. “That’s it. Feels good, hmm?” His hands move more firmly on your thighs, closer to a massage.

You make a thin noise of pleasure, tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“When I tell you… that I have been looking forward to this,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck. 

“But I had to be sure you were the one. Most people start to go insane after the first night, maybe the second, but not you.” His teeth, sharp as razors, delicately graze your throat. “You’ve been… perfect.”

“What’re you talking about?” You ask, feeling slightly slow and disoriented.

Homelander chuckles, the rumble of it moving from his chest through your back. 

“My voice. It tears apart people's minds… But not yours. Why is that?” His lips are warm on your skin, trailing lower. He lifts a hand to pull your collar askew and kiss at the exposed crook of your neck.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, eyes flickering shut. His mouth feels incredible, the slight dampness that his lips leave behind making you especially sensitive to the air as he exposes you to it. It’s difficult to focus on anything other than the drag of his mouth. 

You don’t even realize he’s unbuttoned your shirt and slipped it off of your shoulders until he’s kissing that newly revealed skin, nipping playfully at your bra strap.

“Here I was thinking you were just a pretty, tasty little thing… Turns out you’re so much more,” he purrs between kisses. A jolt of pain makes you gasp and then whimper, the sting of it soothed by the way his tongue drags over the spot afterwards.

It takes you a beat to comprehend that he’s just bitten the junction between your neck and shoulder, sunk his sharp teeth in so deep you smell the faint tang of blood.

“Turns out you were meant for me all along,” he says between slow drags of his tongue, lapping at your soft skin. He moans for the taste of it. “Watching you writhe in your bed, wanting me, touching yourself while your useless husband slept. I thought I was the one going fucking insane.”

Comprehension is a slow, creeping thing to your addled mind.  “You were watching me. The dreams, you–”

“Whispered them into your ear while you slept,” he interjects, kissing at the shell of your ear. “You took to ‘em like gasoline takes to a spark,” he says, that voice of his wrapping around your body and limbs like a dozen slithery tendrils. 

The touch of his voice is just as tangible as his hands sliding up your thighs, your stomach, cupping your breasts through your bra. You let out a shuddering moan.

“Every night, I was so sure you’d break. But you didn’t. You won’t.”

His confession brings back images in a flood, untangling dreams from memories. You remember a silhouette standing over you, you remember piercing red eyes glowing in the dark, and you remember the filth he spoke over you that made your body twist and sweat and come harder than you ever have.

All of it intertwines with this very moment, with his hands on you, his body against yours. It has you moaning, writhing back against him the same way you did in your bed beneath his gaze.

“Call your husband,” he tells you, hand slipping between your legs, hooking under your skirt.

“What?” You rasp, clutching at his wrists. You shiver at the hot slide of his tongue just behind your ear.

“Call your husband,” he repeats, thick gloved finger rubbing sparks between your thighs. “Tell him you’re coming home early. Tell him to wait for you in the bedroom.” 

Leaning forward, Homelander snatches the left landline off the desk and pulls it into your lap, resting it atop his hand while he fingers you in slow, precise circles.

You pick up the receiver and dial unsteadily. It doesn’t sound like something you shouldn’t do. Even as it rings, you feel no dread or apprehension. Just the drive to obey the voice cradling your mind and body so very sweetly.

“Hi,” you exhale when he answers the phone, screwing your eyes shut. It takes everything in you just to focus on speaking. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m coming–” your breath catches as Homelander pushes your panties aside and breaches you with a single finger, sliding into your soaked pussy in one slow, continuous slide. 

“I’m coming home early today,” you say, holding both the receiver and Homelander’s wrist in a white-knuckle grip. “Can you wait in the bedroom for me?”

He’s thoroughly confused, but all that does is frustrate you. His voice comes through ugly and nasally over the phone, grating through your nerves instantly. You feel the urge to yell at him, but the breath is stolen from your lungs by the sweet press of Homelander’s thick gloved finger crooking inside you, stroking exactly the right spot to make you see stars.

“Just–just do it, please? Wait in the bedroom, I’ll be–I’ll be home soon.”

You slam down the phone just in time, letting out a cry, lurching forward. The phone tumbles from your lap with a clatter and Homelander catches you with an arm across your chest, pinning you back against his chest.

“Good girl, that’s it. Give it up for me. Lemme feel that pretty pussy come,” he moans, grinding up against you, the sound of his finger pumping into you obscenely loud and wet. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. Whet my appetite. Gimme something before it’s time to fucking eat.”

You come loudly, clenching your legs tightly around his hand. He stops just to feel you tighten and convulse through his glove, his lips and teeth and tongue all wreaking havoc at your throat.

“Fuck,” he sighs, followed by the low rumble of a chuckle. Your thighs shake as he pulls his hand away. You can smell the heady smell of your own slick when he brings his finger to his mouth and sucks the taste of you from it, the sound lewd in your ear.

“You even taste pretty,” he hums, voice frayed like a growl. There’s an inhuman split to his voice, like there’s three of them layered over top of each other.

The whole world feels like it’s spinning. You have no center of gravity, just the sensation of movement as Homelander effortlessly maneuvers you up into his arms. Your head lolls against his chest, vision swimming.

Warm lips press sweetly to your forehead. “Rest up, pretty girl,” he murmurs. The words instantly make you drowsy. “I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”

The world slips into darkness. The last thing you’re aware of is the feeling of flying.

When you come back to consciousness, the darkness remains. You recognize your bedroom ceiling above you, familiar shadows dancing across it, beckoning you awake. 

A dream…?

Your limbs are leaden, weighed down to the bed. You try desperately to untangle the fantastical from what is real, walking backwards through what you remember. Touch, smell, sound, and pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. You remember Homelander’s hands on you, in you, his body and voice all around you, the sound of–

Sound. What is that sound? It’s close to you, but you can’t move your head to see. It’s a series of wet, soft squelching noises akin to someone manipulating piles of drenched laundry. Then you hear a crunch like a tree branch snapping, and you start to recognize another sound; panting breaths followed by an erotic moan of pure indulgence.

You open your mouth to speak, but your throat is too tight, and nothing escapes it. As you come back to yourself more and more, you realize the bed beneath you is warm and wet.

You manage to force a noise from the back of your throat, a strained sound born of the effort to move. Next to you, something shifts. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” coos Homelander’s familiar voice. Your heart crashes against your ribcage, the only part of you that can freely move expressing the shock of hearing his voice here in your bed.

“Shhhshhhh, no need for that,” he murmurs, moving into your line of sight, hovering over you. His face is spattered in something dark, but when he smiles his sharp teeth are white and bright, even in the dim moonlight of your bedroom. His voice soothes your frayed nerves almost instantly.

“Take a deep breath,” he says. You do so easily, as if you were never paralyzed. “Good. Perfect timing,” he tells you, his tongue sliding along his teeth, his lips, threads of saliva stretched between his teeth snapping. “I’m still plenty hungry for you.”

He kisses you, swinging his leg over to envelop your body with his. All at once you can move again, your bones no longer weighed down. You relax beneath the press of his lips and the weight of him, exhaling a breath through your nose. 

“Kiss me,” he mumbles fervently. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him with everything you have, your lips sliding slickly against one another. He licks the taste of copper into your mouth.

Blood, a distant part of you realizes. Whatever horror you should feel is replaced by building excitement, his touch reigniting heat throughout your body. Like gasoline takes to a spark.

His lips move to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, trailing bloodied kisses down your throat. He has less patience for your clothes now than he did in your office, tearing your shirt and bra from your body with a feral noise. His hands are upon you instantly, spreading the blood on his hands down your chest, massaging your breasts until he works a needy moan out of you.

“Can’t believe I almost ate you, too,” he says with a smile.  Before you can respond, he leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth, hands sliding lower. You gasp and push your hands into his hair, slicking it back with what sprayed into it. His mouth is inferno hot on your skin, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you. His tongue is a devilish thing, working your nipple in circles, but it’s the light pinch of his teeth that make your whole body lurch.

He makes quick work of your clothing from the waist down, too, stripping you until there’s nothing left between you and the blood soaked fabric of his suit. His hand disappears from you, and you hear a metallic click followed by the hiss of a zipper. He nudges your legs apart to settle properly between them, pulling off of your breast with a satisfied pop. He licks his lips of the blood he had spread to your breast, eyes wild and glowing faintly red.

“Let’s get rid of this while we’re at it,” he says, lifting your hand. He kisses the tip of your ring finger before taking it into his mouth, gaze flickering up to meet yours as he takes it all the way down past your knuckle, your ring disappearing past his lips. He catches the metal band with his teeth and drags it slowly off, sucking your finger clean of it. A chill runs down your spine at the crunch the metal gives as he effortlessly chews and swallows it.

You stare in numb, abject shock, but even that rapidly fades to the fires rolling through you. 

Hands on your thighs, he easily pulls your ass into his lap. You look down to see his cock freed from his suit pants, thick and nicely curved. He bends over you, hitching your legs up over his shoulder, and you feel the flat curve of the bottom of his cock press against your cunt. He grins down at you, rocking his hips to grind through the slick mess he’s made of you.

“Let’s see if you feel as good as you taste,” he says, claiming your lips once more. He pulls his hips back, and you feel the head of his cock drooling precome as it slides over your clit, down to your soaked cunt. The dull stretch of it splitting you open burns, has you keening against his lips. He kisses you again and again and again.

“That’s it, baby. Open up for me. Lemme feel that perfect pussy,” he grits out, voice frayed at the edges like he’s finally beginning to lose that cocky composure of his. Even still, his voice retains that otherworldly aspect to it. He bottoms out with a low moan, hips flush to your body.

“Oh fffffuck,” he groans, cock throbbing against the velvety walls of your cunt. You can feel the pulse of him, even more so when you squeeze. It gives you an unexpected and intoxicating shot of power when doing that makes him gasp. “Perfect. My perfect fuckin’ match, fuck. I knew you would be, I knew you were made for me,” he babbles, bordering on incoherence as he starts to thrust, gripping your ass with one hand while the other goes to the headboard, slamming it against the wall with each snap of his hips.

“H-Homelander,” you moan, tangling both hands in his hair, dragging your nails harshly down his scalp, the back of his neck, throwing your head back against your pillow. 

He gives your ass a sharp slap just to feel the way your cunt clenches with it, a growl rolling from his throat.

“Come with me,” he demands, instantly sending the pressure building in you into a soar. He moves faster, deeper, each slam punching out pitchy noises from you. Every drag of his cock feels like a spark inside you, like the strike of a match igniting stars in your peripheral vision. You come with a near scream, nails biting fruitlessly into Homelander’s skin. 

He rides your orgasm fiercely, fucking you into the bloody mess of your bed until he, too, succumbs to the clench of your cunt. He lets out a guttural cry, the wood of your headboard snapping in his grasp as his release floods you, so hot that it nearly burns.

You’re both panting into each other's mouths, lips occasionally brushing. There’s a possessive growl to the edge of Homelander’s breaths, as if warning anything that might hear of the danger of approaching.

“You’re mine now, you understand?” He says lowly, his velveteen voice hoarse, almost animalistic. “My match, my mate, mine.”

Deliriously, you nod, mind still lost to the aftershocks of your climax, your pussy quivering around the girth of his cock. It’s not enough for Homelander, who gives another sharp thrust, knocking an overstimulated moan out of you. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you gasp, meeting his gaze. His harsh expression softens at that, the crimson glow fading from his eyes, leaving only that familiar ocean blue in its wake. He kisses you leisurely, but with no less hunger. He lets your legs slip carefully from his shoulders, but remains buried deep inside you, staking his claim as thoroughly as possible. He kisses your neck, makes you wince when he sucks at the mark he bit into your skin.

“You got no idea how long I’ve been looking for you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You stroke your fingers through his hair, soaking in the feeling of his superhuman body thrumming against yours. You tighten your grip in his hair and lift his head, bringing his gaze up to meet yours. He looks curiously at you until that curiosity flips to surprise as you kiss him, earning a pleased little hum from him. 

When you part, his surprise has melted away into something dazed and soft. Something like love, or maybe satiation. The two look so very similar.

Homelander kisses you a while longer before he nestles down against you.

Your head lolls to the side for the first time, and only then do you see the full scope of the horror resting next to you; bones jut out from the mess of viscera and meat, shredded clothing thick with blood and innards. It looks like the work of a rabid animal, something vicious and hungry.

You know instantly that the mess is all that remains of your former husband. 

It occurs to you that you should feel a dozen different awful things about the pile of gore splayed out on your bed, but ultimately, the only thought that lingers is how he finally suits that rotten meat smell.

Looking back to the ceiling, you continue to comb your fingers through Homelander’s hair. His weight is a comfortable thing upon you, and beneath the smell of gore, you’re soothed by the gentle, warm scent of vetiver. Your eyelids grow heavy, and within minutes, you drift to sleep.

When you wake, there is no tang of blood heavy in the air. You sit up in a bed that is both alien and familiar. It isn’t until you see the mirrors around you that you realize that this is the bed from your dreams.

You feel warm, despite the early morning chill beyond the blankets. You feel a tug, and as you look down, Homelander pulls you back down into his arms.

“Mornin’, pretty girl.”

“Morning,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him. He hums pleasantly as you touch him, your hands roaming the naked scape of his body, testing that he’s real. You draw back, brows furrowed.

“Everything alright?” He asks, his voice as rich and creamy as ever.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, a touch uncertain. “Weird dreams.”

He smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss. “Well, you’re awake now.”

Somehow, you’re not so certain. 

Regardless, you huff a little laugh and snuggle back into his arms. 

“Love you,” you say, losing yourself to the familiar comfort of a partner in your arms, in your bed, in your heart. The longer you’re there, the more the dreams fade away, replaced with the reality of your waking world and the sweet smell of vetiver.

Homelander squeezes you to his chest, stroking idly up and down your back with his knuckles. You can hear the smile in his voice as he returns, “I love you, too.”

[hihomeghere]

Hello my new favorite creator! I just saw your response to my last request (the soft y/n dom one) and I'm deffo going to formally request you turn it into a story (if you're not doing that already) I've been reading more of your content and it's quickly becoming an addiction 😅 any way I'll be a big supporter from the shadows <333 -🧛 anon (Naming myself lol)

Routine | Five Hargreeves / F!Reader

Part of the Tesoro series (Can be read as a one shot)

Word Count : 2.3k Summary : After the confession, Five and reader head back to a hotel room. Soft dom y/n. Aged up!Five Warnings/Tags : Smut, handjob, masturbation, piv, cursing, fluff at the end, this is filth enjoy <3 ( I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters )

If Five was anything, he was a creature of habit. His father had ingrained that in him from a young age. Chores, training, studies, hell even his meal times were scheduled. His entire life was based on routine. 

Then he was stuck in the apocalypse, and even though there were millions of things Five could be mad at his father about, he had to appreciate his sense for routine. It kept him alive, he still had a set time to eat (if he had anything to eat), but instead of training he was scavenging. Picking through a wasteland for anything edible, along with trying to find a sustainable source of clean water. While picking through for food, he would also collect anything to help conserve his energy. Things like his bike or wagon, etc. His definition of ‘resting’ was mainly anytime he could sit down. During those periods he would work on equations, trying to find a way out of there and back to his family. And although it wasn’t strictly in his routine, mental breakdowns always seemed to weasel their way into his day. 

Thankfully, both of those routines were a thing of the past. Now his routine consisted of reading up on case files before going into the field. He’d kill whoever he had to and afterwards he’d reward himself with fucking his fist until he fell asleep. Did it make him feel a bit disgusted with himself, yes, but masturbation had been the only stress relief he’d ever had. Again, just another one of his constants throughout the years. What he hadn’t accounted for was you. At first he had marked you off as a nuisance. Like the cockroaches that somehow managed to survive alongside Five, although you were much nicer to look at. 

Five knew he was in trouble when he started subconsciously adding your routines into his. You would start getting hungry around 11:30 every day, like clockwork. So he had started planning his lunches for around 11:30, not because the thought of you eating alone made his heart seize in his chest, just to make his work more efficient. It aggravated him to have to wait for you to be finished with your lunch, only for him to get hungry once you returned. So out of convenience, he started eating lunch with you. Little things like that.

He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised. You were always one to throw wrenches in the works. Although he didn’t account for a deviation of this size into his plan. When he kissed you, a silent confession on his feelings, he knew there would be no going back. You were it for him. He loved you and you seemed to share those feelings. Your lips crashed against his as he fumbled with the key to the hotel room. You giggled into the kiss, something so sickly sweet. His hands were back on you as soon as the door swung open. Pulling the key out of the lock and throwing it onto a side table as he kicked the door close behind you. His hands were everywhere, touching and squeezing. Your breasts, oh god, your tits. He couldn’t get enough of them, his hand flew under your blouse, pinching your nipple through your  bra. You gasped softly, your hands threading through his hair. He stopped, admiring your flushed face as he kicked off his shoes. Your lips parted slightly, hot breath fanning across his face, a light splattering of blood across your cheek. 

You pulled away, and he almost whined at the loss of contact. What was happening to him? Did you really have such a hold on him? He was taken back to his younger years, when his father would read from Homer’s Odyssey. He had never paid much attention to the sirens, that was more of Diegos and Luthers interest. He wished he had listened to Circe’s warnings like Odysseus, now he was sure he had met a siren in person. He was bewitched by you, drawn to you like iron to a magnet. Five was sure you were more beautiful than Helen of Troy, hell even Aphrodite would be jealous of your beauty. 

“I’m going to take a shower.” You smiled, pushing him back onto the bed before kissing his cheek. Another one of your routines, always showering after a mission. You made a show of undressing yourself, slowly unbuttoning your blouse. Then shimmying out of your trousers. You hooked your fingers under your bra strap, pulling them down at an agonizing pace. You unhooked your bra, throwing it onto the chair. Five’s eyes never left your body until you were behind the bathroom door. He gulped, his cock painfully pressed against the crotch of his slacks. He hurried to pull himself free, the buckle of his belt clinking metal against metal. He started to get frantic in his movements, unzipping his pants and kicking them off along with his underwear. His cock sprung up against his stomach. He let out a sigh, spitting into his hand. He grabbed himself, lubricating his dick with his spit. At times like this he wondered if was seriously fucked in the head. But normally once he ran his thumb over the slit on his head any negative thoughts would be tucked away. He arched his neck, letting out a shaky breath as he started to stroke himself. His mind wandering to you, always you. “Fuck,” he sighed squeezing the base of his cock. Your flushed face, a blush painting your cheeks. That slutty fucking skirt you wore, tight around your hips, he didn’t know how you got that little thing over your ass. He groaned, his eyes rolling back as he picked up the pace. How your lips felt against his throat as you ordered him to cum, your tits bouncing with each of his thrusts. His hips jolted up into his hand, he craved more, his other hand gently cupped his balls. He was close, his breath getting caught in his throat. “Y/n.” He whined, his eyes fluttering close.

“Starting without me?” You asked leaning on the doorway to the bathroom. Clad in only a towel, tightly wrapped around your body. He froze, caught red handed with his pants down. Fuck he was so close. He tugged on himself, chasing after his high as it slowly slipped away. You stopped him, swatting his hand away from his dick. “Excuse me?” You scoffed, your arms crossed above him. You stared down at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together. You grabbed his face, your fingers pressing his lips together, his skin dimpling under your grip. His breath hitched, his eyes going wide. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He said through squished lips.

“You started without me.” You repeated, a wolfish grin spreading across your face. He scoffed, rolling his eyes. You turned his face so he was looking at you, his green eyes wide. He let out a surprised sound, “Now, would you like to finish?” You asked with a commanding voice. His eyes flicked all over your face. 

“Y-yes.” He stuttered, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. You let go of his face, walking backwards until the back of your knees hit the plush chair. You sank down onto the chair, slowly undoing your towel, letting it pool around your body. 

He stared at you, his eyebrows still furrowed. You chuckled to yourself, his expression taking you back to the first night you spent together. So unsure of himself, his hands twitched against the sheets. His dick stood at attention, brushing against his white shirt. His angry red tip made a wet spot on his shirt. 

“Take off your shirt first,” you said, leaning back in the chair, spreading your legs. It was like he had been frozen until your command. His eager fingers moved to his shirt, unbuttoning the buttons quickly. He tore it off of him, throwing it onto the floor. He turned to you for his next instructions, a newfound glint in his eye. “You can touch yourself.” You cooed, immediately his hand wrapped around his cock. Stroking himself with fever, he wet his bottom lip, his hips jolting against his fist. Five was so pretty like this, not that he wasn’t a gorgeous man, but he was so vulnerable. Pride bloomed in your chest knowing that you were the only one allowed to see Five like this. His head fell back, giving you a gorgeous view of his neck. He let out a strangled whine, his lips parting. You sat up, unable to help yourself. You stalked towards him, your hands holding his shoulders. Your lips attacked his neck, nipping and sucking on his neck. Dark spots adorning his pale skin.

“Fuck,” he moaned, leaning into your touch. You reached down, pulling his hand away. He let out a frustrated whine, biting his lip as he stared into your eyes. You smiled sweetly, kissing his cheek over his two freckles, before squeezing his shaft. You began to pump him harshly, sucking a deep mark on his collarbone. His hands flew to your hips, holding them with a vice like grip. “I’m gonna cum.” He said through his gritted teeth, “please let me cum.” He squeezed your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin.

“You can cum baby,” You chuckled, licking a stripe up his neck. He cried out his hips jolting against your hand as ropes of cum shot out onto your fist. You grinned, working him through his orgasm. A pained expression painting his features. As he came down from his high, he softly rubbed circles onto your hips. 

“That was…” He trailed off clearing his throat, his hands drifting upwards on his body. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against your body.

“Never would have guessed Mr. Five Hargreeves would be so obedient.” You laughed, kissing him. He pulled away from the kiss.

“Are you trying to get a rise out of me y/n?” He said, cocking his head slightly. A smug smile spread across his face, his eyes darkened. You felt like the prey instead of the predator under his gaze.

“I would never dream of it.” You smirked, feeling him get hard against your stomach. “Already?” You chuckled, rolling your eyes. 

“I can’t help that I have the most gorgeous girl in front of me, naked.” He mused, raising his eyebrows. You pushed him back, his back hitting the mattress with a soft thud. He smirked, propping himself up on his elbows. You crawled on top of him, setting yourself over his waist. He leaned his head forward, his lips covering your right breast. You lowered yourself onto him, moaning as he pushed through your opening. He let out a pained cry against your breast. 

“Are you alright?” You asked, stalling your movement.

“Mmm,” he hummed, his eyes shut tight, his hands gripping your hips, stilling any movements you would make. “Just sensitive, tesoro.” He chuckled looking up at you through his heavy eyelashes. You grinned, you wanted nothing more than to have Five under you a blubbering mess. And you were gonna have it. 

You rolled your hips against him, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. He let out a choked gasp, his head falling back against the bed.

“You like that baby?” You asked, dragging your hips up and down against him. 

“Fuck yes.” He whined, arching his back off the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into your chest. You rocked back and forth, Five’s fingernails dragging down your back. You moaned, pushing him back against the bed. You leaned back, propping yourself up on his thighs as you jutted your hips forward again and again. That familiar coil tightening in your stomach. “F-fuck.” He cried, his hips jolting against your pelvis, his pubic hair rubbing at your clit. His eyes shone with unshed tears as he bit his lip, his hands gripping the sheets beneath you. 

“You feel so good, you make me feel so good Five.” You huffed, struggling to keep up your pace. He whimpered a tear falling down his cheek. Suddenly his body jolted, his hands gripping your waist holding you down onto his hips as he came with a cry. You grinned against him, reaching your own orgasm. You moaned, high pitched and breathy as his cock twitched inside you. His cum painting your walls as you clenched down on him

“Christ woman.” He sighed, his arm covering his eyes. You pulled away his arm, wiping away a stray tear.

“Glad to be of service.” You asked sweetly, kissing his cheek before pecking his lips. You slowly got off of his lap, his softened cock slipping out of you. You laid down beside him, lightly trailing your fingers over his chest. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. Your head laying on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear. 

“I love you.” He says, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Are you thinking of someone else?” You tease, staring up at him through your lashes. 

“No.” He says, rolling his eyes feigning annoyance. He sits up, you prop yourself up on your arm. “I’m serious,” he cups your face, “I love you so goddamn much.” He says kissing you. You were sure you had died and gone to heaven. His hand against your face, with his soft slightly bruised lips against yours. You sighed into the kiss, feeling like a love sick teenager.

“I love you.” You giggled wrapping your arms around his neck, “I love you, I love you.” You kissed the corner of his lips, his cheek, his forehead. He chuckled softly, as you met his eyes. “I love you Five Hargreeves.” You whispered, resting your forehead against his.

“And I you.” He smiled. Five would happily add anything pertaining to you into his routine any day. 

[little-one-eyed-monsters]

Hello!! Seeing as we are so deep in branded pair culture and looking like it is getting more lucrative being in a CP, do you think the things will cool down in the future how far it may be? Like lakorns in thai will we ever get to a point where the people get to play in different BLs with different partners? I'm asking about CPs not being such an ingrained part of thai BL industry like Japan, Korea etc., What's your thoughts on this?

Oh bless you anon for giving me a fresh new ask that's far away from the BL meta circus of 2025. I could kiss you (but only if you want to). I swear I'm not creepily flirting with you 😅, I'm just so happy to get asks that doesn't mention WeTV or GIR in any capacity.

And the answer is Yes, 100%. GMMTV is experimenting with this already. And what a full circle moment for the company that pioneered branded pairing in BLs to also slowly shift away from this concept in 2025.

They experimented with this risky new concept in the bromance series I'm Tee, Me Too, starring all three of their BL pillars (KristSingto, OffGun and Taynew). Here, they resolutely refused to link the established ships romantically (giving Tay and New female love interests, and building the connection between Gun and Krist's characters more than their actual branded partners). They wanted to see if fans would be reciprocal to a show that didn't feature these established pairs as a brand, even though they were all acting in the same project.

Look at their poster. The branded pair partners are DELIBERATELY placed away from each other to highlight the show's concept.

It proved to be a minor hit, so I reckon GMMTV wanted to experiment a bit more but in shorter bursts. Their second test was in the BL series Only Friends, which combined established pairs (FirstKhaotung and ForceBook) with an outlier: Mark and Neo, with red herring partners for both Mark and Neo's characters throughout the series. The show was also a minor hit, but it seems OF didn't make the numbers GMMTV wanted it to make, because not only did they eschew the idea of non-pair branding by putting Mark Pakin in a BL ship of his own (after years of being independent), but their season 2 for the show, OF: Dream On, will ONLY feature branded pairs:

They even replaced Ohm Pawat and Leng Thanapon with another pair-- AouBoom-- after the dissolution of that ship, showing that GMMTV *may* be backtracking a bit with the mix-and-match partners concept. However, they ARE slowly trying. We'll see these baby steps in the upcoming OffGun vehicle Burnout Syndrome, which will give Gun a concurrent romance with another actor who isn't Off, in the same show:

Thus, GMMTV is more than willing to do it if enough fans clamored for it.

To be clear, ALL of their BL actors have already featured in other shows absent of their branded pair partners (the pillars often had male AND female love interests in other shows. Singto even had a male love interest in two seasons of the GMMTV het-mix show Friend Zone that ISN'T Krist). But they ALWAYS return to the pair branding for events, activities, and yes, the all-important fandom. GMMTV has NOT done a BL show starring two actors who do not belong in the same branded pair (gosh imagine an honest to God OffTay romcom? It would be sweet AND hilarious, why is no one making that? And First has MAD chemistry with Mix, why is no one considering a Moonlight Chicken spinoff?)

I honestly thought Be On Cloud would be brave enough to launch BL shows with non-pair branding, as they also experimented with the ship TaBarcode in Dead Friend Forever (Barcode is *technically* pair branded with Jeff Satur) and BasFuaiz in 4 Minutes (altho Fuaiz was running his actual pair brand JJFuaiz concurrently in that show). With DFF and 4 Minutes not turning in the returns they had hoped for, and with the departure of Ta, Barcode, and Bas, it seems Be On Cloud may be more hesitant to push forward with the mix-and-match concept now. But they'll need to experiment again eventually.

The thing is, though pair branding is a common occurence in most Asian countries (for het pairs in particular), it isn't actually a stable industry technique due to its short shelf life. Excluding paired actors who fell in love IRL and got married/engaged (like Yaya and Nadech in Thailand), branded pairs only have a career lifespan of 10-15 years on average. Here's a published research study of pair branding longevity in Philippine pop culture, which shares techniques and trends from its Asian neighbors. The 10-15 average lifespan is mentioned here:

Even Hollywood has learned to move on from pair branding, DESPITE originating the whole concept in the 1930s and bringing it to their Asian colonies.

This is primarily because audiences are actually very fickle-- they tire of the same faces, materials and dynamics fairly quickly. Branded pairs are usually typecasted, because their roles are often blended in with the dynamic of the ship in real life. If you're bright and spunky, chances are you'll be playing that same character and all its iterations for many years. If your ship dynamic is shy and coy, the love stories you'll star in will also feature shy interactions. Once the actors or the fans (or both) lose interest, the ships die a natural death.

What this means for the Thai BL industry is that they'll definitely shift to non-pair branding in the future because they HAVE TO. The oldest branded pair in Thai BL (and queer media really)--OffGun-- is only as old as the genre itself at 10 years. They haven't reached the max. average lifespan of the pair branding concept yet, so the following years of OffGun will DICTATE the future viability of this concept for other couples. But I definitely believe we'll see non-pairs star in projects soon, similar to Japan, Korea and Taiwan.

And to end this on a spicy note, do you wanna know which non-branded pair I wanna see star in a BL? FORT THITIPONG and LEE NOEUL 🫦

Fort ADORES Noeul and thinks everything he does is cool, while Noeul finds Fort so damn amusing. Same tastes, same sense of humor-- they'd be perfect for a light and breezy, but also damn sexy, friends-turned-unlikely lovers BL. I'd even want to see a Boss Chaikamon and Peat Wasuthorn show, too, just because Boss and Peat's acting styles actually complement each other. Hey Mame, wanna try that? I swear you have one fan already.

This got long but thank you for the ask! Would love to hear your thoughts, too. Stay kooky, folks!

[aventurineswife]

Hello! An idea I've been saving for a while ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃

It's about the reader's pet, it's a pretty fluffy and quite flirtatious kitten, the detail is that the kitten that likes to spy on the character (Aventurine, Sampo, Dr. Ratio and Childe), the character can be doing something and the cat will be staring at it, if you try to pet it it will stare at the character's hand. The character can tell this to the reader or not but the reader will tell him that he is just like that (the reader has already been through that, and more) but you can see the slight favoritism for the reader in the part of the cat, why it lets itself be petted (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠) ~

Take your time with this request! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

-💤🩵 anon

Trust is Earned, Not Given

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Childe x Reader, Humor, Playful Banter, Mischief.

Aventurine lounged in his office, reclining in his high-backed chair as he idly shuffled a deck of cards. His eyes glimmered with mischief, though they occasionally flicked toward the edge of his desk. A certain feline intruder sat perched there, staring at him with the intensity of someone analyzing his every move. The kitten's fluffy fur seemed to sparkle under the ambient glow of his desk lamp, and its eyes were fixed on him like a pair of miniature spotlights.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly. "You know, little one, it’s quite rude to stare," he said in a mock-chiding tone. The kitten didn’t flinch, its unblinking gaze unwavering.

Aventurine chuckled, tossing the cards onto the desk in a neat spread. "What’s your game here, hmm? Are you trying to outwit me? I must warn you, I rarely lose."

The kitten’s tail flicked lazily, but it didn’t move a whisker. Intrigued by the tiny challenger, Aventurine reached out a gloved hand, intending to scratch under its chin. The kitten immediately leaned back, its eyes narrowing in a look that could only be described as disdainful. Aventurine froze mid-motion, his hand hovering in the air as he stared at the audacious feline.

"Well, well. Aren’t you a tough little nut to crack?" he mused, retracting his hand.

Moments later, you strolled into the room, carrying a stack of reports. Spotting the kitten, you grinned. "Ah, there you are. I see you’ve met my little spy."

Aventurine gestured toward the kitten, who was still glaring at him. "Is this...normal behavior for your furry friend? It’s been staring at me for a solid twenty minutes and refuses to let me pet it. I’m starting to feel personally slighted."

You laughed, placing the reports on the table. "Oh, that’s just how he is. He does this to everyone—except me, of course. He’s a little selective with his affections."

Aventurine leaned back, folding his arms. "Selective, you say? Well, that’s just another challenge to conquer."

You smirked, walking over to the kitten and scooping it into your arms effortlessly. It purred immediately, nuzzling into your touch. Aventurine raised an eyebrow, watching the scene with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"I see now," he said, his tone laced with mock jealousy. "He’s a sucker for charm, just like his owner."

You rolled your eyes. "Or maybe he just has good taste."

"Touché," Aventurine replied, his signature grin returning. As you turned to leave, kitten in hand, Aventurine couldn’t help but call after you. "Mark my words, darling. One day, that furball will warm up to me. I never lose a bet, after all."

The kitten’s tail flicked as if in defiance, and you shook your head, laughing all the way out the door.

Sampo whistled a tune as he organized his latest shipment of "goods" in the dimly lit back room of a shop. Everything was going smoothly—until he felt a peculiar sensation. Slowly, he turned, only to lock eyes with a small, fluffy kitten sitting atop a wooden crate.

It stared at him intently, its eyes eerily mirroring his own.

"Well, hey there, little buddy!" Sampo greeted, flashing his trademark grin. "You spying on me for someone, huh? Maybe the Silvermane Guards sent you?"

The kitten didn’t respond, of course, but its unbroken gaze made Sampo feel oddly self-conscious. He crouched down, resting his arms on his knees. "You’ve got a real poker face, I’ll give you that. What are you after? Secrets? Stolen spices?"

The kitten’s tail flicked, its fluffy body entirely unmoved by Sampo’s charm. He reached out to pet it, but the kitten immediately froze, glaring at his hand like it was a threat.

"Whoa, tough crowd," Sampo muttered, withdrawing his hand.

Just then, you appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at the scene. "Let me guess—he’s been staring at you the whole time?"

Sampo straightened up and gestured toward the kitten. "Yeah, and he’s got some serious attitude! Won’t even let me pet him."

You chuckled, walking over to the kitten. "Don’t take it personally. He does this to everyone...except me, of course."

To prove your point, you scooped the kitten into your arms. It immediately began purring, nuzzling against your cheek. Sampo’s jaw dropped.

"Unbelievable," he said, shaking his head. "You’ve got the magic touch, huh? Maybe I should hire you as my cat whisperer."

You smirked. "Or maybe you just need to up your game."

Sampo grinned, leaning against the crate. "Oh, I’ll win him over eventually. Nobody can resist Sampo Koski for long—not even a sassy little furball."

The kitten meowed softly, as if to say, "We’ll see about that."

Ratio stood in his meticulously organized study, deeply engrossed in his latest lecture notes. The room, lined with bookshelves and glowing with a soft, scholarly ambiance, was his sanctuary. He adjusted the ornament at his collar, pacing thoughtfully as he muttered fragments of his argument under his breath.

Yet, there it was again.

A sensation.

He turned abruptly, his eyes locking onto a tiny figure perched atop a nearby stack of books. The kitten—a fluffy ball of fur with startling eyes—sat unmoving, staring at him with unnerving intensity.

"Curious," Ratio murmured, tilting his head slightly. "You’ve been observing me for precisely twenty-three minutes. Are you here to critique my thesis, or is this some form of covert mockery?"

The kitten blinked slowly, entirely unfazed by his direct address. Its tail swished lazily, as if amused by the accusation.

Ratio sighed, stepping closer and crouching down to meet its gaze. "It’s one thing to challenge my intellect, but to sit there silently? That’s... quite the audacity." He extended a hand toward the feline, his fingers brushing the air just shy of its fur.

The kitten’s eyes narrowed. It leaned back ever so slightly, staring at his hand as though he’d committed some grave offense. Ratio paused, withdrawing his hand with a soft hum of thought. "I see. A creature of calculated detachment, much like myself."

He straightened, crossing his arms as he continued to scrutinize the kitten. "Fascinating. You possess a level of discernment I might almost respect—if it weren’t so inconvenient."

The sound of your footsteps interrupted his musings. You entered the room with an apologetic smile, your gaze immediately landing on the kitten. "Ah, there you are! I see he’s chosen you as today’s subject of study."

Ratio raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward the kitten. "Chosen, you say? This creature has spent nearly half an hour watching my every move, only to rebuff my attempts at interaction. Explain this behavior."

You chuckled, walking over to scoop the kitten into your arms. It let out a soft purr, nestling against you with a contentment that bordered on smug. Ratio’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, that’s just his thing," you explained. "He loves staring people down. It’s his way of... analyzing them, I suppose. Don’t take it personally—he’s like that with everyone. Except me, of course."

"Clearly," Ratio replied dryly, observing the kitten’s obvious favoritism. "Your pet seems to have an exceptional bias. Curious, for such a supposedly impartial observer."

You grinned. "Maybe he just knows quality when he sees it."

Ratio smirked, his sharp wit returning. "Perhaps. Or perhaps he’s merely indulging in the luxury of predictability."

The kitten meowed softly, as if amused by the banter. Ratio watched as you exited the study, the feline cradled in your arms. Despite himself, he found the corner of his mouth twitching upward in the faintest hint of a smile.

"Unpredictable creatures," he muttered, turning back to his notes. "And yet, somehow... endearing."

[Header credits]

The sound of clashing blades echoed through the training grounds as Childe perfected a sequence of moves. His focused expression shifted slightly as he noticed a peculiar presence just beyond his peripheral vision.

There, sitting on a nearby wooden railing, was a small, fluffy kitten. Its eyes were locked on him, following every motion of his blades with uncanny precision.

Childe paused, lowering his weapons as he tilted his head toward the feline. "You’re not exactly the sparring partner I had in mind," he quipped, his voice light with amusement.

The kitten didn’t respond, of course, but its tail flicked as if acknowledging his words. Childe grinned, sheathing his blades as he walked over to the curious spectator. "What’s your deal, huh? Are you here to judge my form, or just enjoy the show?"

The kitten blinked, utterly unimpressed. Childe crouched down, extending a hand toward it. "C’mon, little guy. Let’s be friends."

The kitten, however, had other ideas. It stared at his hand with a mixture of disdain and disinterest, making no move to close the gap. Childe’s grin widened, equal parts amused and challenged. "Tough crowd. I like your spirit, though."

Before he could try again, you arrived, carrying a small basket. Spotting the kitten, you sighed. "So this is where you’ve been. I see you’ve found a new person to intimidate."

Childe glanced at you, his smile brightening. "Intimidate? Nah, he’s just playing hard to get. Pretty sure he likes me deep down."

You laughed, walking over to pick up the kitten. It immediately relaxed in your arms, purring softly as it nuzzled against you. Childe’s expression shifted to one of mock offense.

"Okay, now that’s just unfair," he said, pointing at the kitten. "He’s been glaring at me for twenty minutes and won’t let me get anywhere near him. What gives?"

You shrugged, scratching the kitten’s ears as it leaned into your touch. "Don’t take it personally. He does this with everyone—except me, of course."

Childe crossed his arms, feigning a pout. "So what, I’ve got to earn his trust through some epic battle or something? Because I’m game."

You smirked. "Maybe he’s just not a fan of flashy moves. Try being subtle for once."

Childe laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Subtlety, huh? I guess I could give it a shot. But mark my words, one day this little warrior’s going to let me pet him. And when he does, it’ll be because I earned it."

The kitten meowed softly, and you couldn’t help but grin. "Good luck with that."

As you walked away with the kitten, Childe watched, shaking his head with a chuckle. "A tough nut to crack," he muttered. "But I do love a good challenge."

[il-predestinato]

hello beautiful elle

since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!

love you loads

Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!

Lestappen Fic Recs:

And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words

Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.

getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words

The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧

you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words

Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.

Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words

Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)

algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words

In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!

panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words

Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)

Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words

This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.

the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words

The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.

Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words

Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.

If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k

Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words

Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.

Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words

Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.

i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words

Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!

#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words

Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.

Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words

I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.

outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words

Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!

i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words

Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!

One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words

Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)

Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words

Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.

it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words

Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!

burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words

Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.

an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words

Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!

Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words

One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.

Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words

After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.

steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words

Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.

Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words

This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.

...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).

Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!

[animehideout]

I think a lot about jjk men being angry because their gamer girlfriend ignores them 😩

(sorry for the writing, english is not my first language

JJK Men x Gamer GF

a/n: Hello anon thank you so much for your request. I had fun writing this one. I really hope you like it 🫶🏻

( Requests are open )

Characters: Gojo Satoru / Toji Fushiguro / Ryomen Sukuna / Nanami Kento.

Gojo Satoru:

Satoru has been very busy with endless missions lately, getting home really late.

To ease your lonliness, you started gaming.

Well till it turned into addiction.

You were kinda mad at him for not making time for you or at least speak to the higher-ups to take some days off.

But you never talked that out with him, since you didn't have the chance to express yourself.

He surprisingly arrived early tonight, excited to spend the night cuddling with you while watching movies.

But he didn't expect you to have your eyes glued on the screen in front of you while gaming like a maniac.

The room echoed with the sounds of keystrokes and game music.

He jumped in excitement to surprise you but no reaction.

“huh? baby! Im hooome”

“hey” you smiled unenthusiastically at him and quickly turned your focus back on your game.

He raised his eyebrow, watching as you delve into your virtual world, a world seemingly more captivating than his presence.

Would try everything to bring your attention towards him.

He knows his touch makes you weak, so he leaned in wrapping his arms around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head, wishing to draw your attention away from your screen.

“I missed you so much babygirl”

His attempt failed miserably, you just hummed in return completely ignoring him.

When his affection didn't work he started teasing you attempting to provoke you and get a reaction out of you.

“You sure you can play this game? I feel like you suck at this”.

When his teasing fell on a deaf ear as well, his frustration reached its peak.

His calm and amused voice turned into an annoyed tone.

“ARE YOU REALLY GONNA IGNORE ME FOR THAT STUPID GAME Y/N?” he would yell in an unusual harsh tone.

The question hang in the air as it left you momentarily stunned.

“Why the hell are you yelling?” you would question.

“Oh so now I got your attention?! I've been trying to talk to you for half an hour now and all what you did is playing your stupid game”.

His anger was very evident.

He would remove his blindfold throwing it somewhere in your shared bedroom.

“So you got mad because I was focusing on playing my game but you didn't consider that I'm probably the one who's mad because you're never home” you let out of everything, confronting him.

“you're comparing this stupid game to my job?”

Oh boy he fucked up, he didn't get the whole point.

After raging and snapping at you he would give you the silent treatment.

Of course his narcissistic ass wouldn't apologize first.

He's convinced that it's your fault even though he was offensive as well.

You would eventually say sorry and he'll show you his bright smile at the spot.

Both of you would talk things out and find a solution to spend more time together.

“so we good now baby?...can we cuddle?”

“yeah Satoru just lemme finish this round” you would joke.

Toji Fushiguro:

As much as he enjoys your giggles and the way you throw cute tantrums while playing, he HATES IT when you're completely engrossed in your game, oblivious to the way he's sitting there watching you.

Kinda paradoxical.

He wished to have you in his arms.

Or having you on his lap while making out.

But all of these were just thoughts crossing his mind cuz you don't seem like you're finishing your game any time sooner.

And that annoyed him to the core.

“y/n, y/n ?”

“HOW LONG IS THIS GOING TO TAKE”.

You didn't even hear him with having your headset on.

He's very possessive of you and he wants all of your attention to himself.

Especially when you started chatting with your friends, while playing together.

That shit was his last straw.

“Thats it...get your ass over here y/n”

You would look at him in disbelief.

Mouthing “my friends heard you”

“oh trust me I don't give A SINGLE FUCK” he would yell again.

You apologized to your friends and quickly paused the game.

“Are you out of your mind Toji why did you say that”.

“Why did you apologize to your friends while I'm the one you should apologize to”

He would stand up approaching you, narrowing his eyes, clearly pissed.

His giant figure making you take a step back, trapping you between him and your desk.

“Now what should I do to you for ignoring me for too long huh?” he whispered.

You started stuttering, his strong aura did things to you.

His narrow eyes piercing through you, sending shivers down your spine.

“I- I'm s-sorry” you gulped.

“What a good girl...now turn off that computer before I smash it and get your ass on the bed”

Well you had no other options, so you obeyed him.

Unless you want to act bratty which will result in him punishing the hell out of you.

Would spend the whole night cuddling you, literally smashing you in his strong arms, never letting go of you. 🫶🏻🥹

“But Toji I really need to use the bathroom”.

“Nuh-uh”.

Ryomen Sukuna:

Two possibilities, whether you're too bold or you're suicidal and have a death wish to test this man's patience.

They just released this new game and you're completely obsessed with it.

You would spend hours playing it, luckily Sukuna was busy with some things so he didn't notice the way that game took your whole attention and energy.

He wants to be the one taking all of your time and energy.

But when he does notice, oh god, run or pray for your life.

“y/n come here let me kiss you”

“one second!!!”

He would look at you in disbelief.

Cocking his eyebrow, while leaning back .

Even though your back was facing him, you could feel the daggers he was sending your way.

“I said NOW”

“Please baby, I'm winning be there in a sec-”

You didn't even get to finish your sentence when he threw your whole set up off of your desk.

Your eyes would widen in shock.

You don't know if you should feel sad that your whole gaming set up got destroyed or scared that you're the one about to get destroyed.

“You dare to ignore me.. that's bold of you y/n” he would say in his deep voice, making your chest tighten.

“I'll only allow this once, there won't be a second time... do you understand?”

You would nod immediately.

He would throw you on his shoulder taking you to your shared bedroom.

“You need to be taught a lesson after all”

Of course he wouldn't apologize that he got angry at you.

I mean, it's Sukuna we're talking about.

The next day, Sukuna would surprise you with a new gaming computer with complete setup.

You've never imagined him doing this gesture but you truly appreciated that the king of curse actually considered your feelings.

“I don't understand what humans find so entertaining in this game... you should try murder is much more fun..”

You would happily unbox it and place it on your desk.

“Now, Doll next time when I tell you to stop you stop immediately without any stupid excuses”.

Nanami Kento:

Would be home after a long day at work.

Brings dinner with him and expects both of you to eat together while talking about your day and future plans for the weekend.

Only to find you in a dark room, only your computer screen glowing.

“y/n I'm home darling!”

“oh hey there baby” you would simply say eyes still glued on the game.

He wouldn't think much of it even though you were used to jump on him, embracing him in a long hug and telling him how much you missed him.

But lately all what you've been occupied with is this game.

Would give you space, while he takes his time to shower, prepare the table for both of you to have dinner.

“y/n dinner is ready, let's eat”

“yeah yeah I'll be there in a sec Kento” you said, agressively pressing the buttons on your controller.

He would sigh and head to the kitchen, to wait for you there.

Half an hour has passed, an hour and you didn't show up yet.

“shit” you said to yourself when you checked the time.

You ran downstairs to find him on the couch watching TV.

You slowly approached him and sat next to him.

“ken-”

“you don't have to say anything y/n”.

Your heart ached because you know you screwed up.

He would ignore you, his eyes fixated on the big screen in front of him.

You would place your hand on his lap but he would reject you.

“Kento please”

He would start lecturing you.

“You know, that was extremely childish y/n.. I've been waiting for us to have dinner together since the moment I left the morning.. that's what keeps me going.. knowing that I'll come back home to find you..but you did what? you ignored me”

He would be really furious but he kept it to a low and cold tone.

No matter how much he gets pissed he'll never raise his voice at you.

You would look down, embarrassed and feeling extremely guilty.

“I'm your husband y/n , lately you're not fulfilling your duties towards me like I do to you..”.

He is a responsible man, and he believes in efforts from both sides.

You would end up crying.

And he'll end up apologizing even though it was your mistake from the beginning.

He hates seeing you cry, especially because of him.

He regretted getting angry at you.

Between sobs you managed to explain to him that you were trying to win an award by getting the first place in this game.

Would bring you to his chest, holding you close.

“shh I'm sorry.. that's okay. I understand. I'm sorry if my words were harsh”

Would wipe your tears.

Doesn't go to work the next day and spends the day with you while you teach him how to play.

Thank you for reading (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪

[junnieverse]

— TAEHYUN AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ! 💭

➙ boyfriend taehyun thoughts

pairings: kang taehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff

request: " Hello <3. Kang Taehyun as boyfriend ? Don't overwork yourself pls "

warnings: lowercase intended, not proofread

a/n: hi anon, thanks for this request and cute message, make sure you follow it too. this got much longer than I intended but we all need some tae in our lives, what an angel <3

he would be such a dreamy boyfriend

but then again this just may be me projecting but who wouldn't be completely smitten over taehyun

he's smart, funny, kind, talented, stunning and the best of all, he can cook!

definitely the type of boyfriend to prefer stay in dates because he wants to cook for and/or with you

gatekeeps how he does his magic tricks but he shows you a few of the easy ones he knows

all of his FULLY shirtless pictures he takes go straight to you and then he crops them to post for fans (sobs hysterically)

taehyun remembers every little thing and detail about you that you've told him, he's like a (y/n)-pedia, sometimes he even remembers things that you forgot

massages

just thinking about it has me screaming into a pillow swinging my feet

taehyun will give you a massage whenever and wherever you need one

was slouching the entire day studying? he's going to massage your back and shoulders

had to walk in heels the entire day? not only will he carry sneakers or flat shoes for you but he will also give you a piggy back ride and then massage the tension away in your feet

where do I order my own kang taehyun?

not overly affectionate in the sense of giving especially in public but he loves receiving it from you

hug him, cuddle with him, kiss him all over, doesn't admit it much but he loves it

if he's not holding your hand then his arm is around your waist

he loves head scratches :((

so whenever he sees you relaxing he'll join you and lay his head on your lap and your hand automatically plays with his hair

definition of 'ask and you shall receive'

if you ever so mention something you've been wanting or you thought it looked cute, best believe he is going to get it for you even if you didn't actively ask for it

tyun is very much dominant and a provider sort of man in my opinion, in that aspect of wanting to take care of you and get you whatever you want

all he wants in return is your love, he will do everything else to shower you with his love in every way that he can

he almost never actually gets mad at you

he does that cute little thing where he puffs out his chest and has his hands on his waist and playfully scolds you acting all serious

because you find it so cute, you end up laughing and he breaks character

but in the rare cases where he is upset or you both do fight, he is definitely the type to talk it out because neither of you can go to sleep angry

if you do try to leave angry at him and tell him you're sleeping on the couch, well best believe he will sleep on that couch with you

if you both have similar music tastes then there's definitely multiple shared playlists you have and you always recommend new songs the other should listen to

girlfriend privileges are real

let's you win during play fights and when you catch on he lies claiming you won fair and square so you get bragging rights that you're stronger than him

oh new txt album and songs coming out? you've heard them even before they were released

he will carry your shopping bags, all you have to do is buy whatever you want to your heart's content and he will carry everything and pay for it too

he always goes out his way to show his love to you with big and small gestures but he brushes it off like it's nothing

bf who listens and maybe the s/o who talks alot trope?

genuinely such a great listener and support system

he makes sure to listen to all your vents or just be a shoulder to cry on when you're feeling down

quite sentimental with the gifts he picks out for you so it'll often times be something that holds a certain memory or it just reminds him of you

"Just saw this and picked it up along the way." he would say as if it were nothing special

despite seeming tough around everyone else, that is your squishy marshmallow

tyun gets so soft around you

his favourite way of kissing you would be cupping your face in his hands before he leans in to kiss you

the most obvious one, the best girlfriend privilege of dating kang taehyun, he sings to you all the time

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. ﹙ angel guardian  x gn mermaid reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . part of your world !! 🍒 :  angel character﹙ verse 9948e rishen. ﹚

you're a mermaid who yearns for the angel who flies high in the skies. so beautiful and so out of your reach.

𖹭. ps : submission by 🍄 anon

Just thinking about mermaid reader having a big dumb crush on Rishen!!! Always watching him from below!! Big wide eyes as you see him pass by with those beautiful wings of hers!! And she'd always make sure to stop by and give you a little hello!!

And oh, you remember when she first stopped by at your lake! YOUR lake! You were so nervous!! The pretty angel you watched from afar has finally stopped at your little home!! You always imagined a moment like this!! Imagining all the ways you'd say hello and meet him for the first time!! All the practiced moments went to waste, and all you could do is peek at her over the rock you're hiding behind!

Too nervous to go up and say hello!! She always knew you were watching her when she flew passed, she just wanted a proper greeting with her sweet observer! She'd wave at you from afar and all she got in return was you ducking behind the rock, and after a bit of silence you slowly peaked out on the other end of the rock.

You'd see her wave you over with such a pretty smile too!! And you'd slowly make your way over!! Eyes barely peaking over the water's surface while you look at anything else but her!! And oh she was so sweet to you, slowly warming you up to him and easing you out of the water a little bit more!!

Oh, he just loves how sweet you are!! Promising you to always stop by and say hi!!!

So she kept her promise!! Irregularly, of course, they're a busy angel after all! But they always come back and hang out with you!! To wrap you up in their wings the best way possible!! Or to let you try on and model some of his jewelry!!

The longest she left was 2 weeks, and you were oh so heartbroken!!! Begging the stars and moon to bring your angel back to you!! He'll come back eventually!! Wiping your tears away and saying he was sent on a mission!! You were so worried when you saw all the wounds on his body! But oh, your lake was magical!! Always healing every creature that flows within it! So you'd grab his hand and gently tug him closer! Only dropping your hand to strip herself of her clothes!! Her chest was pushed out, and her wings were puffed out to her sides. To say you were swooning would be an understatement.

"My, you look just like you did when we first met."

And you did, with your eyes barely peaking over the edge, taking in her bare body while little sparks come alive within you. You huffed and splashed water in her direction, he'll just chuckle at you, gradually descend into the water. Before he could even say anything, you rushed towards him and wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him so tightly with all your might!!

She'll just press you closer to her chest and hum a light melody to you as she drags her nose up and down the side of your neck. You'd let out a small whine and flinch slightly when your nipples grazed together. You both turn your heads towards the other little by little until you both lay your lips together for a sweet and gentle first kiss!!<3

All the while, the lake heals her body as she makes it up to you!!

[luffyvace]

Hello there hope your doing super well ~ . As request are currently open could I please headcanons with law ,sanji, zoro. +feel free to add characters. With a s/O thats super sweet to everyone almost too sweet. Also cute. But some choice to take avngenre of y/n kinddess. And once y/N found out that is all fake. They become like a sad puppy. All sad.

Thanks for your work.💙💜

I’m doing wonderful dear anon<3 thank you for asking! Oh my I’ve never written for law, I don’t know much about him because I’m still at the impel down arc in the anime soo I hope sanji and zoro will be alright~ :)

y/n sounds so sweet! They must be protected!! (Also you used s/o and y/n so I will too, in this case no pronouns will be used ♥︎)

enjoy your hcs love! And thank you for your request! (may be a bit ooc for zoro?)

RORONOA ZORO ⚔️🗡

Zoro and a cute and sweet reader!~

what an adorable oxymoron<3

you love to cuddle and curl up on top of him when he’s sleeping

He’s a big guy so he’s sure to provide warmth

zoro doesn’t get your need to help others and being so kind to people

or how helping others makes you happy

but zoro is emotionally strong—maybe not intelligent but strong

so he knows when to draw the line for you if your accidentally being overly helpful

or if your tiring yourself out/overextending yourself

he brings a sense of balance to you in that aspect

the fact that he can do that for you is comforting and makes you feel protected

which Zoro is protective of you because of how naive you are

Zoro is very wary of strangers for you

your too sweet and assume that person is just having a bad day or that’s they’re natural face

but behind you is your big scary dog (zoro) who is glaring daggers at the person he knows actually has an evil intent towards you

Zoro is there most of the time so he doesn’t let people take advantage of you

but the times he isn’t around?

once he finds out he gonna slice that person into dice and make them return whatever they had you get them, etc

he doesn’t it like it at all and can immediately tell when someone is trying to get over on you

After the situation is handled he drags you away (getting you two lost) and says

“Seriously! You needa be more careful y/n!”

he doesn’t really notice how down you are for a while

until he turns around to ask you something and you sorta have this sad puppy look on your face

”what’s wrong with you?”

he’s not gentle about it or anything but he does care

when you tell him it’s because your sad that everyone your kind to betrays you his protectiveness heightens

”what do you wanna impress those people for when you have the world's greatest swordsman..”

he kinda muttered it to himself

but you heard and immediately perked up

you clang onto his arm and walked all the way back to the sunny like that

(might I mention it took a while since Zoro was leading..you knew the way but you decided to just let him 🤦‍♀️😂💗)

Zoro overall does appreciate what you do for him and the crew tho

how you count his push-ups and bring him the drinks/food you asked sanji to make him

it doesn’t go unnoticed so don’t worry :)

as far as y/n being cute he doesn’t notice every time

or have a big reaction when he does

he only blushes a little sometimes, again, when he notices

it’s easier to make him bashful than it is to make him blush with a cute face/smile

He does think your innocence is a bit cute tho!

…..along with naive, but still cute!

”seriously..how come your always getting yourself into trouble” (he blushes a little and turns his face away, pouting slightly)

VINSMOKE SANJI🧑‍🍳

Sanji x such a sweetheart reader is practically meant to be!!

Your both equally sweet and serving

especially sanji since he was raised in an environment where he had to serve people

you guys always insist on helping each other

your love languages are most definitely acts of service and quality time

you two do each other favors all day

”let me help you!”

”no I’ve got it sit down, relax!”

that conversation goes both ways between the two of you multiple times a day

Sanji loves to cook for you so ask him any time of day!

he never has a problem with it and wants to do it actually!

You two are equally emotional people and probably empathic

you guys feel for other people so you feel the urge to help those in need

your weakness is being too kind and his is being too much of a gentleman

you guys are actually really similar in a sense

which you all don’t mind because you can relate to each other

sanji however knows when to take a break

not to say that you don’t but you just tend to overwork yourself for other people’s sake

to which sanji puts a stop to :)

he runs you hot baths, massages your shoulders and washes your hair

You do the same for him since you’d feel bad if you didn’t

he very much appreciates this

its not every day someone takes care of him

you guys then eat the delicious hot meal he prepared and snuggle up, falling asleep together

You guys also take the chance for vacation every time you see one

Pirates have to be prepared for the worst of adventures on every island

so as soon as you see the opportunity to relax you two leap to have a fun beach day

sanji is absolutely a SIMP for how cute you are

he is SO fond over you and is always gushing and bragging (to zoro) how cute his s/o is

like literally he doesn’t shut up about how adorable you are!

a cute lady with a sweet personality??

yes please.

He definitely warns you after the first few times he sees you getting taken advantage of

it’s a sweet and gentle chat about the dangers in the world and how you can’t trust everyone

even if you don’t trust them! set boundaries and don’t let them walk all over you!

if you feel too many bad people are around don’t give them the benefit of the doubt! find a straw hat and stick with them!!

”y/n-Chan you’ve gotta use your discernment to see who is being mean and who is worthy to trust..!”

like yes some strangers are kind but some will see how sweet you are and use that against you!

absolutely does not let a man take advantage of you and will immediately kick him away

with a women tho he will probably go get robin or nami

maybe even simply take you away and let it go if it’s just a regular woman

but if it’s a pirate who’s trying to back you into a corner yeah he’s for sure getting the straw hat girls

he will offer himself instead and tell you to go get someone from back on the merry/sunny

Or maybe if you can fight he’ll root for you!

not that he likes that fact that another woman is being hurt in the process..

but if he has to choose between his woman and another one that was disrespecting his woman??

”GO MY BEAUTIFUL Y/N-CHWAAAAAN!!!”

as for sad puppy y/n he notices right away and immediately does whatever he can to cheer you up again

he bakes you sweets, runs you a bath, makes you drinks, makes you laugh, buys you whatever you want just to see you smile

and again if it was a guy who did this to you he’s 100% getting the boot 💥💥

your sure to cheer up soon with all that sanji does for you

especially with his warm cuddles n kissses ♡

thank you once again for your requests my love! Today is a very busy day..I have a lot to get out.. 😅

Overall I hope you enjoyed your hcs!

[bones4thecats]

Hello, there. I would like to request Ace, Deuce, Malleus, and Silver with a reader who can manipulate the environment around her? From turning a lush, flowery land into a frozen wasteland to transforming a dessert into an aquatic paradise, she changes the environment around herself when practicing magic.

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Malleus Draconia, and Silver Vanrouge Name: {Character} with an S/O that can manipulate environments Requester: Anonymous

A/N: This is a very neat request, Anon! When I was writing this, I was thinking about Tinkerbell and how the different fairies basically change their surroundings with their separate magic styles, so, this may have hints at those here.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🪅 Ace was getting moodier by the day

🪅 There was so much damn snow on the ground that the whole dorm of Heartslabyul was working on making sure their sidewalks and everything else was uncovered and shimmering correctly, according to those numerous rules

🪅 He was shoveling the sidewalk leading to the actual dorm with Deuce when he heard the sound of your boots pushing snow down as you walked up to them

" I see you are busy, shall I come by another time? "

🪅 Ace snapped his head and threw the shovel down so he could sink to his knees and grab your legs, puppy-eyeing you as you chuckled

" Don't leave me here! This is torture! Help me, please! "

🪅 You smiled and yelled for the surrounding students to back away from the areas they were working on, and before Riddle could ask you what you were doing, the snow suddenly was rising by his eyes

🪅 Your boyfriend laughed as you made some snowballs out of them before making small statues out of the frozen water-balls

🪅 The rest of Heartslabyul thanked you, along with Trey and Riddle, who were getting tired themselves, since there was so much snow that fell that passing week

🪅 Smiling and hugging you from behind, Ace trembled as he felt you touch him with a snow-covered hand, and as he jumped off you and began to run inside his dorm, he couldn't help but think about how you were able to do that, you were also a first year...

🪅 Oh shit you hit him with a snowball-

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

♠️ This poor guy was freaking the hell out

♠️ The roses in Heartslabyul had seemingly overgrown while they were gone for winter, and when they returned, the snow was so crowded that it took multiple third years to pry them open

♠️ Thankfully, you seemed to be happy, however the hell that makes him happy, we'll never know

♠️ Deuce looked over at you as you threw a snowball at Ace, causing him to fall over and chase you around with his own snowball

♠️ He smiled as you messed around, the fear of getting caught by Riddle slowly hiding itself behind the loving memories of seeing your smile whenever it snowed or when the flowers bloomed

" Ace Trappola! Y/N L/N! Get working! We don't have all day! "

♠️ You and Ace stopped to look back at Riddle when he yelled, Deuce tried listening in on what you shared friend was whispering in your ear

♠️ When you touched the snow and chanted your unique magic's words, Deuce froze and observed as the snow began to melt away around the rose trees and building, and the flowers began to grow back and seemingly shimmer with their blush-inducing color

♠️ His housewarden stopped in his tracks and sighed, what else did he expect to happen? You always loved messing around with the surrounding seasons

♠️ Why, just before it said it was going to snow, you had made it so warm that some students believed they hibernated through winter and it was now summer!

♠️ Deuce squealed as you began to drag him to the mirror chamber's entrance from the dorm, the sound of cheers from his fellow students being hidden behind your rambles on the different seasons and how they changed

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐉 Malleus was isolated for pretty much his whole life, and watching the seasons change was one of his favorite pass-times, and his favorite seasonal change was when it leaked from fall to winter

🐉 Your fae boyfriend was walking behind you as the leaves fell, and he asked you a simple question

" My treasure, you have asked me about my preferred seasonal change. And, if I may inquire, what is your favored time of the year? "

🐉 You smiled and looked into his green eyes as they shimmered with such vibrancy against the dull and dead-colored surroundings

🐉 Answering with delicacy, you just replied with waving your hand on the ground, making him stop and watch as small roses grew from the ground

🐉 It was far to cold out for the beautiful and delicate blooms to actually spring from the ground right now, did you perhaps have something to do with it?

" I prefer spring myself, but, the other seasons are quite nice as well. It's like the circle of life, life leads to death, and death eventually leads to life once more. "

🐉 Malleus smiled and chuckled as you lightly cut the roses off their stems and plucked the thorns off before lacing them in his hair, creating a small braid-like piece behind him

🐉 You somehow surprise him in the funniest ways, how ironic

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✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

⚔️ Silver never really could stay up long enough to watch a season fully swap, as in some locations in Briar Valley, magic is so strong that the seasons could change in the matter of minutes

⚔️ But, this year, when he found out from Lilia that you adored watching the seasons change, just because it was a slow and beautiful process, he decided to try staying up for as long as he could

⚔️ He loves seeing you smile, and he would rather dishonor himself than make you anything other than happy

⚔️ Like you could get mad at him, but still

⚔️ You smiled as you walked around Briar Valley with the Diasomnia group, you were all wearing your winter gear, since it was to change to winter soon

⚔️ And once you all reached your destination and planted yourself in place, they all could see how excited you were

⚔️ Silver hugged you from behind, trying to fight his urges of closing his eyes for a long-awaited nap, but, when he heard you shift and felt you start standing up, he officially awoke and cocked an eyebrow at your actions

⚔️ You looked down at your boyfriend and friends and asked them a fairly oblivious-ensuing question

" Do you guys wanna see something truly remarkable? "

⚔️ When Lilia chanted his approval, your eyes became white as the clouds thickened and eventually erupted with snow as your fingertips were graced over with the smallest snowflake-pattern ever seen

⚔️ Silver looked at you as the natural snow began to fall right afterwards, and while Sebek yelled about how you had 'ruined his Waka-sama's chance at seeing the snow for the first time outside of home', your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and napped, you really were perfect for him