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nylqnder · 5 months ago

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BUTTERFINGERS WILL SMITH

pairing: fem!reader x will smith

summary: will's quiet protectiveness over you begins to make you feel as though he's more than a friend.

warnings: will getting injured, friends to lovers, reader being a butterfingers/clumsy, bit of language

wc: 2.89k

notes: i can't get over will just automatically protecting you from things and just knowing you're going to bump your head or drop something.

Will had silently taken on the role of guardian against your own clumsiness.

As he got to know you, Will observed your accident-prone habits — the way you would unknowingly leave cabinet doors open at forehead level, how your phone always seemed to be on the verge of slipping from your grasp, and the countless times you misjudged the distance between your toe and the corner of the coffee table. He adapted in subtle, almost imperceptible ways, weaving his quiet vigilance into the rhythm of daily life.

At first, it was little things. He’d casually nudge a cup away from the table’s edge when you weren’t looking or intercept your phone mid-fall with reflexes so swift it seemed like a coincidence. If you were carrying too many things at once, he’d wordlessly take the heavier items from your hands before you had the chance to protest — or inevitably drop something.

Over time, his protective instincts became second nature. He walked slightly ahead of you when you were distracted, steering you gently away from uneven pavement or sudden steps. He started keeping a steadying hand near your back when you climbed stairs, ready to catch you if your balance faltered. Whenever you cooked, he subtly repositioned knives and hot pans out of your unknowing danger zone, and if you reached for something on a high shelf, he was already there, retrieving it before you had the chance to teeter on your tiptoes precariously

Even his speech patterns adjusted. A soft “watch your step” would precede any tricky curb, and a quiet “careful” would slip from his lips whenever you absentmindedly swung your arms too close to a fragile object. He never made a big deal out of it, never teased or sighed in exasperation. He simply adapted — anticipating, adjusting, protecting.

And perhaps the most telling thing of all was how effortless it became for him. As if watching over you wasn’t a responsibility, but rather something as natural as breathing.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Will was observant by nature, careful in a way that contrasted your absentminded chaos, so his small interventions felt like an extension of who he was rather than something particular to you. But then, you began to notice — really notice.

Like the way he always positioned himself between you and the street when you walked together, his body a quiet barrier against the rush of passing cars. Or the way he would always get the door for you, seeing as you always get it wrong — pulling it when it’s a push, or pushing it when it’s a pull, which always resulted in you smacking into the door.

It wasn’t just his actions, but the way they made you feel. Safe. Not in the dramatic, swept-off-your-feet kind of way, but in the quiet, steady assurance that came with knowing someone was looking out for you — not because they had to, but because they wanted to.

And that was the thing about Will. He never laughed when you tripped over nothing or sighed when you dropped your phone for the millionth time, resulting in a new crack on your screen. He didn’t roll his eyes when you forgot where you put your keys for the third time in a day. Instead, he’d hand them to you with a soft “found them,” and a small, knowing smile that never held an ounce of exasperation.

The realization crept in slowly, unfurling in the space between his gestures and your awareness of them. You started looking forward to the little moments — the quiet steadiness of his presence, the way he never made you feel like a burden, never made your clumsiness into a punchline.

And then, one evening, it hit you.

Will and Macklin were set to go to a Warriors game, but last minute the younger Shark bailed on him in favour of a date. Will, not wanting to skip the game, asked you if you wanted to come. Basketball was never your chosen sport of interest, but you knew how badly Will wanted to go, so you agreed.

You were sitting in front of your vanity, curling wand in hand, rushing to finish your hair. Will was standing next to you, arms crossed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he huffed dramatically. “How long does it take to curl hair? I mean, we’re gonna miss tip-off at this rate.”

“Relax, we have plenty of time,” you said distractedly. For Will, it was like it happened in slow motion. He watched as your hand went to grab the curling iron, only to be reaching for the barrel instead of the handle. His hand darted in before yours, grabbing the barrel and pulling it out of your grasp.

Will only realized what he had done when it was too late, the burning sensation seeping into his skin. His face contorted in pain as he pulled his hand back sharply, letting out a sharp, involuntary scream. You turned in alarm, dropping the curling wand onto the vanity as you watched him clutch his hand, the raw redness already starting to form across his palm.

“What the hell, Will?” you shouted, the surprise and panic evident in your voice. You stood up, your hands trembling as you instinctively reached for his hand, wanting to help but not sure how. “Why the fuck did you grab my curling wand?”

He grimaced, his teeth gritted, but he managed a strained chuckle, his voice laced with guilt. “You were about to burn yourself,” he said simply as if that explained everything.

You blinked, momentarily stunned. You hadn’t even realized what had happened until he had grabbed the hot barrel. You’d been so caught up in finishing your hair, your mind swirling with thoughts of getting to the game, that you hadn’t even noticed your near mishap.

“You saw that?” you asked, your voice softer now, the edge of anger replaced with surprise. “You noticed I was about to—?”

He winced, clearly trying to mask the pain, but there was a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Of course I did,” he said quietly. “You do that a lot. Always rushing, not paying attention.” He gave a small shake of his head, looking almost apologetic. “I don’t know. It just… it’s instinct, I guess.”

You stared at him, trying to process his words. Will had always been observant, but this was something else entirely — a silent, steady vigilance that you’d never fully understood. He’d always been there, quietly anticipating your missteps, but you hadn’t realized just how much of it was rooted in a kind of protective instinct.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his expression, the way he held his injured hand close to his body, still trying to hide his discomfort for your sake.

You guided him carefully toward the kitchen, your heart pounding with a mixture of concern and confusion. He let you lead him, his steps slow as he held his injured hand away from his body like it was too fragile to touch anything. Once you reached the sink, you turned on the cold water, the rush of it filling the air.

Will stood beside you, watching you with a calmness that made your chest tighten with guilt. You helped him ease his hand under the water, the cold liquid hissing as it met the burn. He flinched for just a second, but then the chill seemed to soothe him, and he let out a soft breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment.

You reached over to gently hold his wrist, guiding it more carefully into the stream of water. The contact was subtle but felt significant—your fingers wrapping around his, steadying him as the water washed away the heat. There was an odd intimacy to the moment, something quietly tender in the way you were taking care of him, something that made your heart thud louder than it had any right to.

“How did you know?” you asked, your voice quieter than usual as you glanced at him, your eyes searching for answers. “How did you know I was going to grab the barrel?”

Will didn’t immediately respond, his gaze still focused on his hand, the water dripping off his fingers. He shrugged, his lips twitching into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “I just saw it coming,” he said, his voice low. “You were distracted, reaching for something hot. I… I could just tell.”

His gaze flickered toward you then, catching your eyes for the briefest of moments. “You’ve got a tendency to forget, y’know,” he added.

You couldn’t help but shake your head, a laugh escaping you that was both incredulous and full of affection. “You always seem to notice these things. It’s like you’re… watching me.”

Will’s expression shifted, something unspoken flashing in his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just staring down at his hand under the water. He didn’t seem to want to elaborate, but you could feel the weight of his silence. It wasn’t just concern you were sensing now; it was something deeper, something that made your heart flutter uncertainly in your chest.

“Why do you always notice?” you pressed gently, not quite sure where the question was leading but needing to understand. “It’s like you’re always one step ahead, always catching things before I do.”

Will’s shoulders shifted under the weight of your question, and he let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. “I don’t know,” he said after a beat, his words almost too soft to catch. “I guess… I guess I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

There it was. The reason behind the actions that had always seemed so natural to him, so effortless. Will was watching, not just because he could, but because he cared. It wasn’t just observation — it was protection. He had quietly, unknowingly taken on the role of your guardian in a way that you had never even noticed.

He cared.

The weight of that simple, unspoken confession made your stomach flip, but before you could fully process it, something impulsive and raw surged up inside you. You closed the distance between you and Will, your heart racing with an intensity that felt as though it could pull you apart. In an instant, before either of you could think it through, you kissed him.

The shock hit both of you at the same time — his breath catching in his throat as your lips met his, both of you stilling for a moment, like the world had suddenly paused. The soft warmth of his mouth against yours was everything you didn’t expect but everything you needed. And just as quickly, the fear of what you’d just done flooded in.

You pulled away, wide-eyed, the breath between you ragged. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry—what the hell was that?” you stammered, a forced chuckle leaving your lips. Your face heated up as you scrambled to explain. “I—I don’t know what came over me. You just… I don’t know. I just—” You trailed off, unable to form the words to explain how his quiet care had wrapped itself around you, how you felt like the luckiest person alive just to be near him, to have him protect you without ever making you feel like a burden.

“I—I was just so touched, Will. By everything you’ve done, the way you look out for me. You’re—” Your voice faltered, the words feeling clumsy as you tried to express what you were feeling. “You’re one of the only people who doesn’t make fun of me for being so… clumsy. For being me.”

You stared down at your hands, suddenly embarrassed by the vulnerability of the confession.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the soft sound of your breathing, mingled with the sound of the water still running. Then, before you could continue apologizing or retreating into a wave of mortification, Will cut you off.

He leaned forward, dipping his head down so his lips could brush against yours again. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened, and all the awkwardness from before melted away. His hand found its way to your cheek, his fingers warm and sure as they cupped your face, the gesture filled with a softness that made your chest ache.

You both pulled away again, your breath mingling together in the small gap of space that remained between you two. The air was thick, not with tension, but with the words that had yet to be said.

His voice was low and slightly rough as he spoke, the words a whisper that seemed to settle between the two of you, making everything feel incredibly intimate. “I don’t know why I do it,” he said, his thumb tracing the edge of your cheek as if he were trying to memorize the feeling of you. “But every time I see you about to get hurt — whether it's something big or small — there’s this… this urge to protect you. To make sure you’re okay. It’s just… instinct, I guess, like you said.” He paused, his eyes flickering over your face, searching, before his gaze softened. “But it’s more than that. It’s not just about keeping you safe. It’s about… caring.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his confession, and for a moment, you were speechless. You had always known there was something different about the way Will looked after you, but hearing it from him, in his own words, made it all the more real.

“Will…” you started, your voice trembling just slightly, unsure if your own feelings could measure up to the tenderness he was offering. You took a deep breath before continuing. “I—I care about you too. More than I’ve ever let myself admit.” Your hands found their way to his shirt, the fabric beneath your fingers grounding you in the present. “The way you protect me, it’s not just that you’re looking out for me. It’s that… it’s that you make me feel seen. You make me feel like I’m not… a nuisance. Like you actually want to be here. I’ve never felt that way with anyone else.”

There was a pause, just long enough for your words to hang in the air between you. Will’s gaze softened, his uninjured hand leaving your cheek to rest over yours, gently prying your fingers away from his shirt only to intertwine them with his own.

“You’re not a nuisance,” he said, his voice steady, but his eyes held something deeper, something more raw. “I want to be here, with you. Not just for your clumsiness, not just to catch you when you fall. But because…” He swallowed, the words suddenly feeling heavier on his tongue. “Because I’ve been falling for you too. And I don’t want to stop.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and your chest tightened with a mix of relief and disbelief. All of the moments — the small gestures, the quiet care — suddenly made sense. Will had been there, not just as your protector, but as someone who had quietly, unknowingly, built a foundation for something more.

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same,” you whispered, your voice vulnerable. “I thought maybe I was just… someone you looked after. But I want this too, Will. I want… us. If you’re still okay with that.”

Will’s smile was soft and sincere, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. He gently cupped your face again, pulling you closer as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before speaking again.

“I’m more than okay with that,” he said, his voice steady, now filled with a quiet confidence.

You looked up at him, leaning in to connect your lips once again. But just as the kiss deepened, Will’s hand moved instinctively, like it had so many times before, to cup your face. Only this time, something was different. The faint sting of his burn flared as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your cheek, and he pulled back with a sharp inhale, wincing slightly.

“Fuck, that still hurts.” he hissed, his hand withdrawing from your face. Will shook his hand as if that would make the pain magically fall away.

“Who’s the clumsy one now?” you said, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of your lips, trying to break any remaining tension between you two.

Will chuckled, though the pain in his hand still lingered. His eyes softened, a quiet amusement flickering across his features as he met your gaze. “Guess it’s me,” he said, his voice light, yet full of affection.

You couldn’t help but smile back, the warmth between you both settling into something easy and comfortable. The air that had once been thick with unspoken words now felt clear and open. The kiss, the confessions — everything was still fresh, but it was right, in a way that neither of you could deny.

“I think we should get to that game before either of us ends up more injured than we already are,” you teased, a playful spark in your eyes.

Will grinned, his usual protective instinct settling back in as he offered you his good hand. “Let's go,” he said, squeezing your hand.

And as you both walked out the door together, the world felt a little less dangerous.

#˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆ nylqnder #will smith #will smith hockey #will smith x reader #will smith imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #san jose sharks

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chaconnewon · 27 days ago

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nerd!won surprising u by actually being good in bed despite what the others say (him being bitchless i mean) *but still clumsy and cute 😩* PLEASE

a/n: TOOK ME A FUCKING WHILE TO WROTE THIS. I am so, so sorry. Is not even that good. I had to change it so many time that I dont really know if it's what you wanted or... anyways I hope you like it(if you see it ;_;) Thank you so much for the request. <3

surface ─── y.jw

contains: nerd!jungwon x fem!reader, masturbation(f. recieving), unpreotected sex(gyus no), mentions of a party, alcohol(both conscious), jungwon looks like a tease but it's a softie, mention of aftercare. wc: 2k(2.261) a/n pt2: this is proofread but once again english is not my frist languague so it may contains mistakes. hope you enjoy it !!!

‘’Why you care about body count so much?’’

You didn’t mean to overhear that conversation but those students were too close to you, and they weren’t speaking quietly. You took some books off your shelf locker, maybe a little slower to continue being nosey.

‘’ What if I'm sleeping with someone who has zero experience?’’

‘’ Everyone has been inexperienced at least once. Not a big deal, you’re having sex for fun not to impress someone.’’

That was right. No one should be ashamed for being a virgin, or lacking in experience. From the past years people made sex look like some kind of competition. Setting your status based on how many people you slept with. Nothing to flex about, neither if you have sex or not, both valid.

‘’ I know for sure some of your classmates have lost their virginity…’’

‘’ Jesus, why are we talking about that? ‘’

‘’ What do you mean ‘we’? She seems to have been ovulating for the past two months! My girl, if you wanna get laid so bad, go ask Jay for one night. I'm pretty sure he won’t deny.’’

‘’Not my type.’’

The girls laughed, and so did you. Quietly, of course.

‘’My type is more like… Jaeyoon? Or maybe Jungwon!’’

You knew both of them. Well, actually you knew Jake for always saying dumb shit at the worst moment possible. He kinda makes you laugh, and was a good classmate. And Jungwon…

Jungwon was the type of guy who’s smart as fuck. Like, had a response to everything. He knew about so many things you couldn’t remember. Doesn’t talk too often but always has the first place in the ranking grades. No one could beat him even if they tried. A lot of people envied him for that, even making bad comments about him but Jungwon didn’t seem to care. For you, it was just admiration. A person so sweet, caring and smart. You couldn’t find bad traits about him and you didn’t want to.

It’s been four days since that conversation lingered in your mind and you couldn't help but wonder what was your ideal type. Never thought about that before and you felt curious. Not that you have an extensive list of crushes throughout your life but still.

Of course you liked some people, but none of them had a unique trait to make you think ‘’that is maybe some kind of my type’’ like glasses, or people taller than you. Honestly, you didn’t care as long as they were nice to you and the others.

Cuz we don’t beg or idealise the bare minimum.

As soon as you stepped outside the school building, you stretched your body, hearing some of your bones crack. It was Friday, finally. And you couldn’t wait to arrive home and do nothing for the rest of the weekend. But again, you overheard another conversation.

‘’It is true that this boy next class is arranging a party?’’

‘’I think so, shall we go?’’

A party… When was the last time you went to a party? You thought about it, until said party day came. You stood in front of the door, hearing the music through the walls, blasting. Was that a good idea? You were 100% sure you wanted to spend the night in someone’s house full of people you didn't know?

When you stepped inside, the warmth of people's bodies slapped you, making you gasp for air. Did they really enjoy being so crowded, almost sweating, rubbing against other people? You didn't like the idea, and walked through dancing bodies until you reached the kitchen, apparently the only place in the house that seemed to be… spacious.

You got yourself a cup of whatever they were handing, sipping thirsty and almost immediately regretting it.

‘’Shit, did these people even pour some soda or something?’’ you muttered, eyebrows furrowing as you checked the plastic cup.

By the corner of your eye, you caught some silhouette gripping the kitchen counter. He seemed like the alcohol was doing something to him, and he tried to act cool but didn’t work. Concerned, you held him by his arm, and soon found out who he was.

‘’Jungwon?’’

‘’Did you know those fuckers are serving just alcohol? No mixed, no shit. Straight pure alcohol like it’s gonna be banned.’’ he said, shaking his head with disapproval. ‘’Fuck, it’s burning my throat. And the people here aren’t making it easy.’’

You chuckled, softly. You haven’t heard Jungwon curse like that, like he was truly disgusted.

You looked around, searching for a crowdless place to bring him. But everywhere was full of students: furniture, the couch, even the corners… Everything was filled with drunk, noisy people. And when you were that irritable, the least you wanted was some drunkass bothering you.

‘’Come here, let’s go.’’

You took him by his wrist, leading the way across the people. You didn’t even know whose house it was, but your steps guided you to the close bedroom, opening the door and entering, pulling Jungwon inside too. You placed him on the edge of the bed, and you took a seat on some chair in front of him.

Jungwon had his cheeks blushed due to the alcohol but still was very conscious of his actions and thoughts. His lips were parted slightly, breathing through them. And then was when you realised that Jungwon never had a dating rumor. You found him so pretty you reached that conclusion. You haven’t seen him with a girl, or talking about girls. Was he single? Or was he in a private relationship with someone? You heard other students making fun of him because apparently he had no one.

But what was the reality?

When you came back down from your daydreaming, you found his feline eyes looking directly at you, his head tilted to one side trying to read your mind.

‘’You good?’’ you asked, acting as natural as you could.

‘’Uh-hum’’ he hummed. ‘’And you? You seem far away from here.’’

You looked at him again, feeling how the blush was creeping in your face. And he smirked. He fucking smirked, like he noticed you red-ish shade lighting up you face. Like he knew what was inside your head.

Jungwon leaned in to grab the armchair, and pulled it closer to him, placing you and the chair between his legs. Suddenly something shifted in the air. Having him so close made your pulse rate high.

‘’Is there any hidden intention why you brought me here?’’

You swallow hard, shaking your head. ‘’I–I saw you struggling, and thought to… I don’t know, you maybe feel better with no one around.’’

He faked a thoughtful expression. His hand travelled from the armchair to your chin, raising your head for you to look fully at him. There was something dark in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite tell. And honestly, it was hard to tell if you liked it or not.

Before you could react, his lips were pressing against yours. Slow movements started an addicting dance between both lips. His hand cupped your face, tilting it to one side to fit the kiss even better. You kissed him back without thinking twice, with hunger.

With ease he lifted you and laid you down on the bed, positioning him between your legs. His lips descended from your mouth to your neck, marking and sucking it at the right places, like he knew your body better than you did. You squirmed beneath him, soft whines leaving your lips. You heard him curse underneath his breath, teeth sinking your soft neck skin to suppress his gasps.

He looked at you again, desire mixed with some kind of adoration reflecting his eyes. His hand roamed your body, memorizing every inch of it. You could keep still, arching your body against his soft touch. Jungwon’s fingerpads reached your clothed nipples, brushing it slowly until they were hard, perky.

‘’You liked that?’’ he smiled, pitching you perky bud and got a moan for answer, content.

‘’F–Feels good.’’

‘’Does it? Should I continue?’’

‘’Please.’’

Jungwon didn't hang you waiting, raising you top clothes and exposing your breasts, covered by the thin layer of your bra. Gently hands were kneading your soft flesh, feeling every inch of your breasts. You back arched again to keep feeling the warmth of his hands, which traveled down until reaching your pants. You nodded at him as giving permission to go further, and he unbuttoned your pants, sliding them through your legs and tossing them aside.

He gripped your knees, spreading them to settle between them again. His fingers traced soft lines inside your thigh until they reached your clothes core, cupping it above the fabric. You gasped, breath hitching as he started to give pressure into your clit –or at least where he thought it was.

You shifted slightly, moving your hips to align his fingerpads and your clit. He was fast to catch up on what was going on.

‘’Not reaching?’’

‘’You’re a bit to the side…’’ you giggled softly, earning a soft chuckle from him for the first time that night.

He was a bit ashamed. It was his first time doing something like that, a fact that you would believe if he said it out loud. When he had enough of teasing you, his free hand moved to slide your panties to one side, taking a look at your wet pussy. He tried again, pressing two fingers in your clit and moving them in slow circles. He watches carefully your expressions, how you face contorned in pleasure even if he was moving them at slow pace.

He left you clit to spread your lips and coated his fingers in your arousal, the same ones brushing your entrance but not putting it in. Jungwon saw your legs tremble, trying to trap his hand between them and had to grab one of your legs to keep them open.

‘’Tell me if you want to stop because I don’t think I have enough energy myself. Please Y/N…’’

‘’N–No, don’t stop.’’

He smiled, and got rid of his own pants and underwear. You looked down, curious, and saw his hard dick standing. Maybe it was the prettiest dick you have ever seen–not that you saw many but still. He took himself from the base and pushed the tip a bit, coating it with your juices.

‘’You sure?’’

‘’Yes, I’m sure.’’

You looked at him for the last time. He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth, brows furrowing slightly. His cheeks were even red-ish that before, and you couldn’t help but to think that he was looking so cute right now. Despite being seconds away to fuck you, but he was still cute. He held one of your hands, interlacing his fingers at the same time he pushed his length inside you.

Inch by inch he bottomed you out, making sure there was no pain during it. But the second he noticed your scrunched expression, he stopped.

‘’Are you alright?’’

You nodded but Jungwon didn’t feel like it. His mind was racing, thinking of something to ease the pain you were not talking about. Then an idea snapped his mind. Jungwon took a pillow and placed it under your lower back, making your body a bit arched.

‘’O–Oh, feels better like this.’’ You told him, squeezing his hand.

He took it as a sign to continue. Slowly, he pulled back a bit and again pushed his entire dick inside you, leaving you gasping for air. Jungwon continued to move with no rush, letting your insides adjust to his length. His free hand caressed your sides, then your stomach until they were back at your hips. Grabbing them, he started to pick up his pace, your moans slowly driving him insane.

You found out that, same as you, he was a vocal person. Especially when your walls clapped him so tight it was hard to move inside.

‘’Shit– You feel so good.’’ he panted, leaning closer to your body. His hot breath reached your neck, giving you goosebumps.

Soon his dick was reaching spots you would have never known it would feel so good, making you squirm under his body. Your moans became a bit pitch-highed and more continuous, a clear sign you were close to snap. And that was the last straw from Jungwon, pushing harder into you, his tip constantly rubbing that sweet spot inside you.

You could tell he was close too by the way his thrusts were sloppier, his dick twitching inside you.

‘’F–Fuck, I’m so close–’’

‘’Me too, please. Don’t slow down.’’

He growled, hooking one of your legs from behind and lifting it a bit, reaching even further.

‘’Fuck! Just like that!’’

‘’ Haah… Y/N, wh–where do you want it?’’

You mumbled something about outside but not clarifying where. He waited until you reached your peak, clamping hard his dick with your gummy walls as the orgasm washed you all over. It felt good, so good he almost forgot to pull out. He was lost in the way his name fell off your lips in such an erotic way.

As you were coming back from your high, Jungwon suddenly pulled out, just in time to spurt thick ropes of cum from his throbbing cock. They landed in your pussy, mixed with your own release.

You two tried to catch your breath, feeling how his seed was dripping from your cunt into the sheets beneath you.

‘’You good?’’ he asked, stroking gently your face. You nodded. ‘’Good, let me clean you, okay?

#enhypen #enha x reader #enhypen hard hours #drabble #chaconnewon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen x reader #enha smut

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iheartcake123 · 2 months ago

Text

rafayel x f!reader

when he gets you a cat

a/n: this was honestly so fun to write!!😭🫶

warnings: none

Masterlist

your apartment was small, sunlit, and cluttered with things rafayel liked to call “trinkets” but you knew were very important emotional support objects. you were currently curled on the couch, scrolling through an adoption site, cooing every few seconds.

“you’re doing it again” came rafayel’s voice, amused but wary.

you looked up to find him leaning against the kitchen doorway, coffee in one hand, black sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“doing what?” you asked, feigning innocence.

he raised an eyebrow “shopping for small, furry chaotic demons.”

you pointed your phone screen toward him, displaying an image of a calico kitten the size of a slipper “look at her. her name is biscuit. she likes lounging in the sun and sleeping in hoodie pockets.”

he sipped his coffee like it was a tranquilizer “i’m not even going to pretend this is a rational decision.”

“you live with me. let’s be real rationality left this apartment the minute you started alphabetizing our tea shelf”

“because order is the foundation of civilisation”

“and kittens are the foundation of joy”

he stared at you like he was calculating your emotional trajectory and determining it was a lost cause. you set your phone down and crossed your arms.

“you hate them. but they have tiny beans. fluffy bodies. little mittens and they purr, rafayel. they purr.”

“i’m aware of what cats do. i’ve studied their capabilities extensively and i don’t hate them. i just—don’t trust anything that climbs your curtains, screams at 3 a.m., and then stares at you like you’re the problem. not to mention their unpredictability”

you huffed “that’s rich, coming from a man who once spent forty-eight hours straight organizing his spice rack by emotional tone”

he pointed a finger “that was one time and cinnamon is objectively comforting.”

“raf, just want a little buddy. something to come home to when you’re out working late. something warm and soft and purry.” you pouted.

“i don’t see the need when you have me…” rafayel’s face softened for half a second and then he walked over, leaned down, and kissed your forehead “but i’ll think about it”

over the next few days you hadn’t brought it up again. you assumed his silence meant a gentle but firm “no.”

but surprisingly two weeks later, you came home from a long day at work, your eyes tired and legs aching, to find him standing awkwardly by the kitchen table, trying (and failing) to keep a very tiny gray kitten from crawling up his arm.

in an instant you froze.

he looked up and met your stunned gaze with a sigh “her name is mushroom. she likes your sweater drawer, apparently. and has an obsession with climbing”

you immediately forgot about your tiring day and rushed over, scooping the kitten up and nearly crying into her fur. she immediately started purring, nuzzling into your neck like you were already her person.

“you did this for me?” you asked, voice cracking slightly.

“she’s allegedly low-maintenance” rafayel muttered, looking like he regretted all his life choices “the shelter lady said she’s mellow and calm. which is a lie. she tried to climb the coat rack while i was signing papers”

you looked up at him, eyes wide and bright “youre amazing. i can’t believe it! you hate cats!”

he gave a helpless shrug “i don’t hate them. there’s a difference, plus you kept pouting and you wanted joy. i can’t compete with joy. so, i brought you some.”

you kissed him before you could stop yourself, grateful, a little teary and with the kitten still tucked between your arm.

you pulled back just enough to see his face. his rare, quiet smile met you halfway.

“i love her” you whispered.

“she’s tolerable.”

“and i love you” you added and then wrapped your free arm around him and he playfully rolled his eyes as he returned it.

over the next few weeks, you both got accustomed to living with the fluffy ball of happiness.

for you, it was instant but rafayel, not so much.

it started with a silent standoff.

rafayel was sat rigid on the couch, flipping through some dense psychology book with the intensity of a man refusing to acknowledge the tiny gray kitten now curled beside his thigh. mushroom kept inching closer, purring just loud enough to make her presence undeniable.

you watched from the doorway, trying not to laugh.

“she’s not going away, you know” you said aloud.

“i’m aware” he muttered without looking up “she’s been breathing directly onto my leg for twenty minutes now”

“she likes you”

“she’s plotting something” he flicked his eyes toward the kitten “don’t think I don’t see you, tiny manipulator”

mushroom yawned in response, blinking at him. and the she placed one dainty paw on his leg like it was a diplomatic gesture.

in an instant rafayel froze.

“…she’s touching me”

“she’s bonding with you”

“she’s asserting dominance. mocking me!”

you walked over, scratched mushrooms chin and then kissed the top of his head.

“you’re doing great” you whispered. he huffed and brought his book back up to continue reading.

it took a while but over the next few weeks, the cold war turned into an uneasy truce.

you caught them sharing the couch often. rafayel sitting stiffly at first, then slowly, almost imperceptibly, relaxing when mushroom curled into his side.

you never commented. you didn’t have to.

one night, you came home late, arms full of groceries, and heard rafayel talking.

“and then you pulled the curtain rod down on yourself. again”

you paused outside the living room. hisbvoice was soft and patient.

mushroom gave a chirp in response, like she was proud of the chaos.

“i told you. gravity exists, it’s not a suggestion.anyway, let’s read the rest of this book now”

you peeked in to find him on the floor, cross-legged, with mushroom nestled in his lap like she was born there. he was gently stroking her head with one hand and the other holding a book. she was purring like a motor.

he glanced up and saw you. he stuttered and looked almost embarrassed.

you only smiled in response.

“she’s converted you” you placed the groceries down.

“she tricked me” he said not looking directly at you, though his hand didn’t stop petting her “ i blinked and suddenly i care if she eats her food or not”

“you’re soft now” you teased

he huffed “don’t tell the kitten. she’ll take credit.”

“she already has” you whispered.

rafayel pouted. he knew you were right.

________________________________________________________

the storm outside rolled in suddenly with thunder cracking like the sky was tearing in half.

mushroom,who had up until then been contentedly nesting in your laundry basket, bolted. a gray blur of fur, panic, and tiny squeaks, she dove under the couch seeking refuge.

you jumped up, scanning for her “mushroom?”

from the kitchen, rafayel popped his head out, he had a cup of tea in his hand and his eyebrows knit in confusion.

another rumble shook the windows. you both then heard the low, desperate mewl from the shadows.

“she’s scared,” you said, already crouching beside the couch.

rafayel has now placed his tea down and was beside you.

“shes hiding like she owes someone money” rafayel muttered, as he kneeled down, peering under “mushroom. come out”

a pair of wide, panicked eyes stared back.

“she won’t move” you whispered, your heart hurting at how scared your baby looked “look at her, she’s trembling.”

rafayel sighed and then, without a word, laid flat on the floor and slid his long arm under the couch. there was a brief scuffle and rafayel gently murmured “i’m not going to hurt you, stop being dramatic”

and then he pulled her out.

mushroom clung to him like a baby koala, her little body shaking, claws caught in the front of his hoodie.

rafayel then stood slowly, carefully adjusting his hold. one arm cradled under her back legs, the other supporting her head and body like he’d done this a hundred times before. she didn’t squirm.

she didn’t even blink. just buried her face into the crook of his neck and purred like she’d found her safest place in the world.

you watched, heart melting, as he walked her to the couch and sat down, still cradling her.

“she holding you like a teddy bear” you whispered.

“she’s terrified” he said quietly “the noise from thunder hits a frequency that probably makes her feel like the universe is collapsing”

“that’s really empathetic of you” you blinked.

“i’m multi-dimensional” he said dryly, grabbing a blanket and adjusting it around her “tell anyone i did this and i’ll deny it”

“she looks like a literal baby in your arms”

“she is a baby. a judgmental, emotionally manipulative baby.”

mushroom let out a soft, grateful trill and nestled even deeper into him.

and then you saw it—the tiniest smile tug at the corner of rafayel’ mouth as he looked down at her.

you decided join and sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder.

she had rafayel wrapped around her tiny paw.

and he didn’t even try to fight it.

#writing #love and deep space imagine #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deep space #love and deepspace rafayel #lads fics #lads fic #lads imagine #lads mc #lads rafayel #lads x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x mc #rafayel x reader #love and deep space rafayel #rafayel x you #rafayel fluff

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lena15-08 · 3 months ago

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Sirius who is back at The Ancient and Noble House of Black after his 4th year at Hogwarts, rummaging around at the extensive family library for more information about Werewolves to be more aware of his best friend (ahem unofficial love of his life ahem)'s "condition", when he comes across a book, almost 350 pages by how thick it was.

“Experimented to the Bone: Field-Tested Methods to Cripple a Werewolf During and Beyond the Full Moon”

He winced at the title, that was definitely not what he wanted to learn but as he moved to place it back in the shelf, he came across a familiar name.

"By Lyall Lupin"

Sirius paused, because surely not. It surely could not be the same Lyall Lupin, who was Remus's father. But Lupin was not a common name, nor was Lyall. Fuck.

He opened to the first page, to view the year it was published.

"1969"

That was after Remus was born. Like him, he was born in 1960. Every second after he picked the book from the shelf, Sirius fought back bile coming up his throat.

Authors note

As someone who has worked in the "Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures" department of the Ministry of Magic, it has been my great pleasure to write and publish this book myself. For years, Werewolves have been a prime obsession of mine. I've been studying ways and techniques on how to weaken them and then, by Merlin's grace, I was granted an opportunity to study them closely every day, in and out of a full moon for 4 years. And to whomever it may concern, this book is my greatest creation.

As To the viewers' discretion, please be aware. These methods have been experimented on a much weaker Werewolf. The doses and measurements given in the book can be adjusted to higher doses based on the size and age of the creature.

Taking harsh breaths he quickly flips through the book, catching small sentences

"Sew Silver threads along their clothes"

"Stir wolfsbane in their water and let sit"

"Sprinkle small doses of wolfsbane in their food to keep them weak throughout the day"

"When locked in, the creature harms itself during a full moon, be reminded to use cages and shackles made from Silver instead of regular Iron"

The book dropped to the floor. And Sirius heaved on the library floor, much to the dismay of Kreacher who appeared instantly to clean it and then disappeared.

He couldn't breathe, he cried, and he stayed there, almost paralyzed for hours before Regulus came looking for him who took a look at the title and the first page before he dropped down next to his brother to pull him to his chest.

And then Sirius couldn't seem to stop moving his mouth between his cries. Things along the lines of, "His own father" or "He never told us" or "Does he even know?", "Why is he dead, i wanna kill him", "1969 Reggie, he was a child", "I knew he despised his dad, never knew why......i wish i didn't know"

And what was Regulus to do except weep with his brother.

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sudiptaam · 3 months ago

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#Antimicrobial Packaging #Market Growth #Food Safety #Nanotechnology #Packaging Solutions #Healthcare Packaging #Shelf Life Extension #Consumer Trends #Active Packaging #Antimicrobial Agents

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ladybyakuya · 11 months ago

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| SIDE EFFECTS + SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

+cw. — fem!reader, established relationship, ( domestic ) fluff, love & comfort, slight angst, mature language, atsumu being atsumu, mention of hinata and bokuto. beta-read by my beloved ray.

+wc. — 1.2k

+syn.— Sakusa has gotten used to you pretty quick ever since he started living with you but now that he has known the bliss, he does not want to go back to living alone.

+notes. — this is for flufftober ‘fond moments’ collab event for a prompt: quality time hosted by @spookuna. mdni cuz im eighteen plus blog.| redirect to blog navigation. & tagging @tetzoro for poking my pineal glad with a question that became a inspo for this <3

For almost a month, Kiyoomi has had an odd extension of routine that starts after his matches. It starts with going straight home ( to you ), and eating the dishes you made for him which was suggested by a dietitian of course! and then wait at least one hour before hitting the shower, and that too, a cold one since right after he is done drying himself he jumps into bed just to hold you amongst his chest like a hot bag; this . . .this particular moment is what he has been looking forward to for months and now it has finally become a part of his life, and if things do not go south then it might just last for the rest of his life. Just barely thinking of it gets him wide awake. If life was a sleepless dream, then he would not mind sleeping forever at the end of it with you.

Today, however, everything turned upside down. He came home a little late, just a little; ate silently without talking much. Generally, he turns into a yapper right when he sees you. He has so much to talk about yet even with all that bubbling enthusiasm he still does not forget to ask, “Babe, how was your day?”, “Aw, babe that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.”, “What? Need me to scare the manager? Because I can.” he says while flexing his muscles wearing nothing but a towel around his torso but you know he won’t do that since he has the confidence that you can handle anything all by yourself. After all, you scared the shit out of Miya when you first met him and he will not accept but, indeed, Miya is not easily scared, especially by girls. However, this evening his responses were full of— “umm.” and “umhm” — nods and sneaking glances. The Kiyoomi that is reserved for the world has come home to you today.

And that one-hour gap, between his dinner and shower, which is generally filled with listening to you as you roam around the house and work and he follows you like a puppy is filled with frequent calls, messages, and screen time today. It sure makes you worry if not disappointed or angry. It has been a month since you two started living together, so this one hour has always been filled with making this small apartment a place that you both could call “home.” Things were slowly falling into place, turning this place into a home. You were happy, and Kiyoomi? He was the happiest man in the world.

However, crest-fallen.

Sakusa came out of the bathroom freshly showered when you were folding his clothes. Now that he can see your back properly without any thoughts lingering in his mind you look tired, sad, and perhaps. . . a little annoyed. Maybe it is not a good time to tell you the news after all but what else he can do, he does not have much time left either. He tip-toes his way towards you, slowly.

“C’mon out with it, omi. What’s up?” You say and turn towards him with a bunch of his clothes in your hand only to face a half-naked Sakusa, a pink towel wrapped around his torso, his hands in the air branching out in a form of embrace. You chuckle as you walk off to his closet but his stance remains intact just his head following you;

his jaw drops as he enquires with utmost curiosity, “How do you always know?” which earns him just an endearing glance from you. You keep the stack of his clothes on the shelf, one by one as he finally says what has been bothering him. “I have to move out. . .to Osaka.” You had to pause before keeping the last t-shirt on the stack of clothes. Your hand is still on the edge of the closet wooden frame since you know the moment you close it— is the moment you have to face such a warped reality where you would be alone in this newly bought apartment, with no omi to wait for, cook for, or take care of. . .

As if he could read your thoughts he mumbles sharply. “Babe, turn around.” He must be still in that pink towel. The air conditioner is on but it seems that he does not mind the cold today. You slowly turn around closing the cupboard with your hands at the back biting your lower lip in anticipation thinking if Kiyoomi had to tell you about moving out to you, then he must have tried all the possibilities of either staying here with you or taking you with him yet none of them must have worked because if it had, you two would not be standing so apart like two curtains drawn apart.

“Oh dear God,” Kiyoomi groans as he clutches your wrist pulling you into himself. He makes you sit on the edge of the bed while he sits on the floor, legs folded keeping his head on your lap as he draws lazy patterns on the side of your thighs with both hands, simultaneously. “I never thought I’d fall in love even though I’ve planned it in my notebook ever since I was a kid.” He turns his head up, “Now that my love is here I want to keep it, safe, forever.” The water from his hair has left spots on your long tee. You run your nails through his scalp and he lets out a low even groan saying, “So, I took a week off to spend time with you and of course to get the packing done.” He has to rake his eyes open since the exhaustion blended with being sleepy along with your tender touch is too tempting not to give in.

“What?” You ask, surprised. “You did it for me?”

“Yeah. ‘course. Why wouldn’t I?”

A black pup tip-toes its way into the room and both of you watch it walk till it halts right at your feet wagging its tail, tongue hanging out of its mouth. Both of you look at each other, and then a familiar voice turns up, “We’re here love birds.” Sakusa rolls his eyes before turning around and grabbing your bathrobe to wrap himself up probably because now his senses are back enough to let him know how chill the temperature of the room is. You put your palms over your cheeks, it has become warm again, as you look at the pup.

Just when you crouched down to pat the pup, Atsumu, Hinata, and Bokuto followed into your shared bedroom.

“So, what’re you gonna name him?” Miya asks with a big grin plastering on his face.

“Kiyo!”

“Heyyyyy.” Naturally, Sakusa protests. Bokuto and Hinata share a look holding back their laughter.

“Well, I call you Omi when I need something from you, or when I’m angry with you and I call you Mr. sakusa when we—you struggle to put your thoughts out in words so Atsumu interjects.

“ —fuck.” He is still grinning. What’s he so happy about?

“Yeah. that.” you point at him while keeping your eyes still on Kiyoomi. “So, I don’t see a problem calling him Kiyo.”

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rita0605 · 1 year ago

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#food ingredients #shelf life extension #food industry #culinary creativity

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vrystalius · 11 months ago

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Could you do a "the demon that steals me gifts" with gyutaro? ^_^ like he brings reader jewelry and things

The demon that steals jewerly for me

Here’s part 2, the demon that stole my heart.

(stalker!Gyutaro x oiran!reader, implied sexual assault ((not from our baby boy!!)) )

You knew that somebody was watching, and has been for a while. An old customer who wishes to bed you again? A jealous wife of a husband you were paid to sleep with? No, the eyes that were watching you feel much more piercing and obsessive. Demonic, almost.

But you don’t really care. Your beauty is unmatched, your gracefulness your image and your face being the moneymaker to lure your customers in. Your lady planned to never let you leave this brothel until you grow old and “unusable”.

You hated this. You hated your lady, you hated the filthy men that know no boundaries or what the word “no” means, you hated this room, this stained bed and your miserable life. So what’s a stalker on top of that?

But lately, you began finding gifts neatly placed on your bedside table, wrapped in an expensive cloth of silk, matching your favourite kimono. Wrapped in this cloth was a beautiful, golden plated and gem decorated hairpin. It was the most amazing handcrafted item you’ve ever had the honour of holding in your hands. You saw the higher-class oirans wear them before, so how did this fall into your lower-class hands? Perhaps it was your lady thanking you for your exhausting service. You decided to wear it daily with pride. This made you look more expensive and perhaps you could demand more payment for a session. You treated this hairpin with extensive care and made sure to clean it every night, before putting it back into your hair for another shift.

From this day on, every night you found another expensive jewelry item, wrapped in another silken cloth. You now have a full box of pins, necklaces, earrings, rings and more hairpins that are probably worth over thousands of yen.

Is this stalker doing all this? Are they climbing into your room while you slept to give you these? You strangely felt warmth pool inside your stomach. You wondered though, why aren’t they visiting you in person? It’s not that you want to have sex with them like the other filthy animals, you just want to meet them in person. Then again, this stalker gifted you all these things by breaking into your bedroom. Yet he was respectful enough to not defile you in your sleep. You caught yourself looking forward to finding the gifts on your bedside table. This stalker was being so nice to you, aren’t they?

You tried to wake yourself up when you sense someone else in your room in hopes to catch this person in the act. You wanted nothing more than to meet them face to face and thank them for the gifts. Your feelings towards this person began to shift even more as you started to fantasise what they might look like.Are they a man or a woman? Are they beautiful? Rich? A businessman of some sort? Would they be willing to marry you and get you out of this hellhole?

One night, you woke up in your sleep by the sound of someone entering your room through your window. You kept your eyes shut and acted like as if you’re asleep, waiting on the right moment to confront them. But while you tried to intimate your sleeping state, a finger gently ran through your hair. The touch was incredibly gentle and careful as if fearing to break you like a fragile vase and you couldn’t help but smile a little and blush as your stomach was filled with butterflies. The person shifted and placed your gift on the beside table before turning around to leave. The window opened, but you quickly sat up in your bed. You stared at the… thing… sitting on your window shelf.

He had gray, sickly skin, decorated with black spots. His hair looked matted and green, as if not washed in centuries. His teeth were sharp and crooked, his eyes droopy and sad. His body was unnaturally thin and starved, being able to count every single bone in his body. He was hunched over with his spine completely visible, as if about to rip his skin open. That was no human, that’s a demon. You stared at the creature with big eyes. He was staring back, beginning to scratch his skin open nervously, blood dripping down onto the wooden shelf.

“D-Don’t l-look at me, p-pretty!! L-Look away- I-I’m too dirty t-to be l-looked at…”

You couldn’t help but blush after hearing his croaky voice. Your shoulders relaxed as you bit down onto your lower lip.

For some reason, you felt… aroused?

💠

Gyutaro is the first character I fell for in kny, I love him so so much! He’s such a baby. I want to hold this mass murderer and tell him he’s beautiful and handsome. I cried during his backstory…

Thank you so much for requesting this! I was thinking about what to write for Gyutaro in the The Demon that series for so long, so thank you for helping me out!! I may make another part for Gyutaro where you just cuddle him. The Demon that stalked me and that I know cuddle? Hmm…

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

The Demon that… (masterlist)

#💠 house of vry 💠#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny x reader #fluff #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #upper moon x reader #upper moon six #upper moon six x reader

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lilyberyls · 5 months ago

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💰 RICH BOY 𓈒𓈒 悟

“ 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉. 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 luxuries ! ──𝗻𝗼𝗽𝗲. ”

【 💲𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐗｡】 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗒! 𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 & 𝖿𝖾𝗆! 𝗋𝖾𝖺 808 𝗇𝗈𝗇-𝗌𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗎 ／ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 警告 ◞ ◟ overly rich, moron mentioned.

━━━百合 🍸 whew... first work, 'm nervous 😖 my goat @okwonyo help me w the ideas i labh u ♥︎

𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 ૮ ◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ა 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌 ✶ quotidian

RICHBOY! TORU who owns everything most dream boys could ever desire. Private jet? check. $17.75M Rolex? Just bought it. Designer clothes? He owns every Saint Laurent edition. VIP cards? Both unlimited—Black and Platinum. Sports cars? A whole fleet. All cool—with you being the completer.

𓂃 ★more ! (ꈍ ꈍ)under the cut 𓈒

RICHBOY! TORU who has zero match when competing about looks—he had it all from the moment he was born─shiny, frosted locks, graced by feathery lashes, framing his mesmerizing sapphire orbs to perfection—luring most people to agree: “this is why he's the perfect match for you,” that you've grown enough hearing.

RICHBOY! TORU who gifts you jewelries and designer clothes almost every day—or maybe exact everyday. Your first morning view is him—going around your shared bedroom, filling up your closet—from the wardrobe to it's drawer, to the shelf until the wall—all filled up—and the cycle repeat the next day—every single day.

RICHBOY! TORU who gets super duper upset and all sulky whenever you refuse to accompany him on his shopping mania, saying you wanted to spend more time at home and less outside—adding a question, asking if maybe he could join you?

RICHBOY! TORU who started spitting nonsense everywhere, as if you just said something extremely hurtful that struck the deepest part of his heart—when all you does was offering him a better plan—that is far more comforting than tiring—at least for you.

RICHBOY! TORU who pouted, “You hate me aren't you?” “You don't love me right?” “You're just making excuses because you've grown bored of me, I know,” Making you frown at the absolute lies coming from that pretty mouth of his.

RICHBOY! TORU who's grinning ear to ear upon hearing you declared, seemingly defeated, “Fine.” He immediately jump with his fist in the air—like he just beat the world record arm wrestling—“moron. Very cute moron,” you mumbled.

RICHBOY! TORU who enjoys spending his money—more precisely, wasting it. He flies across the globe multiple times a week in his private jet while both cards dancing effortlessly between his fingers. Of course, he brought along you. Always.

RICHBOY! TORU who's confident and sure that it is not just some pointless hobby or a routine born out of boredom, sign of affection—while yeah, one of his way of loving you—but more truthfully—an addiction. A maddening, reckless and downright ridiculous addiction.

RICHBOY! TORU who's incredibly thrilled by his extensive describing addiction—one that pairs perfectly with that smug yet undeniably hot grin spreading across his face—because that exactly what proves your cool come crashing down, and oh, how he'd started counting down days to tease you about it.

RICHBOY! TORU who insisted on letting you use his cards for the rest of your life—and he's extremely serious about it. Why? his answers are simple: “Because it's hot,” and when asked—how is it hot? “Because of her.”

RICHBOY! TORU who badly adore the way you'd stroll around the store, scanning every item with pure excitement lighting up your face, like a kid unwrapping their presents made him go feral.

RICHBOY! TORU who framed the view—you trying out different kind of dresses, picking out designer bags and heels as much as you like with his cards neatly clutched in your hand. Cute—and hot.

RICHBOY! TORU has a habit of disrupting your peaceful night walks—but never without scaring the hell out of you first with a loud signature blare of his sleek, obsidian-hued Mclaren, something you're still trying to get used to.

RICHBOY! TORU who'd pull up beside you, matching your pace effortlessly, one hand resting on the rolled-down window while the other gripped the handle. “Oi, a princess shouldn't be walking alone—especially past midnight,”

RICHBOY! TORU who had his gaze fixed on you—making you cursed yourself for letting his words affect you this much—heart swelling, stomach flipping. This wasn't like you. Snap. An idea crossed your mind.

RICHBOY! TORU who had amusement flickering across his face—when you hastily stopped on your tracks, inhaled deeply, then turned to face him before agreeing, “That's very true,” as you scanned his confuse look, proud. “So why don't you walk with me?” At that moment, he knew—he had to get you in his car.

RICHBOY! TORU who takes you to gala to show you off—forcing you to put up with every life-threatening side glances and whispers among themselves—yet... you couldn't care less about each—knowing that you have Gojo Satoru.

RICHBOY! TORU who made you possess a weird reflex—rotating your back 360° away from him—every time your eyes caught the sight of his extremely handsome face—but never without feeling your face heating up—drastically.

RICHBOY! TORU who never fails to make your eyes glued on his—before unconsciously switching your gaze down to his lips. Yes. His plump—juicy, pink lips that you once tasted—winning the top list of what you're forever craves.

RICHBOY! TORU who plans travel for your anniversary. Every anniversary to be exact. He will surely bring up topics like your destination, locations, activities you want to try—but for sure, as long as its extravagant and exclusive—and what he actually means with exclusive is you. Your delicate smile, your beautiful laugh and you saying, “I love you, Satoru,” just like when you first met.

taglist restarted𓈒 join to support me ♥︎

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dark-lord-of-awesomeness · 6 days ago

Note

Stan is cursed into a creepy porcelain doll

Hmm. I'm very charmed by porcelain doll Stan here.

Stan's door to door salesmaning, as he does, knocks on the door of a witch, and she thinks he looks very charming, with his bow tie and suspenders and little hat (had to look up a pic of stan in his door to door days, hes very young! Thinking 5ish years on his own here). Charming enough to keep!

Stan gets turned into a doll version of himself and stuck on a shelf, his car very nicely dolled up with him (thinking like mega tiny doll toy car, like a matchbox). The lady has quite the collection, house full of dolls both living and not, and it's horrifying! He's stuck, unable to move or talk, watching this old lady putter around and the other dolls stare back at him.

Then, as all old folk do, she passes away. Her relatives come by and sell off her extensive collection for a lot of money, and Stan's paired up with his tiny car and being sold around. Good news! Her dying meant some of the curse started fading. Bad news! He's still a doll just now way creepier looking and appearing mega haunted, able to move as long as no one's looking at him, horror movie style.

Gets pawned and thrift stored around, in and out of other collections as his face starts to crack and eyes blacken, other cursed dolls lost in the in and out process, until he and his tiny doll car wind up in the market of gravity falls (Stan's got a whole story about how much more mega haunted he gets when someone removes the car. That's his, he has way more willpower to move when people try to take it, it's all he's got going for him). Is hanging out, trying to wiggle out of the curse (he's pretty sure the cracks are him busting out, and he's determined to prove himself correct) when who should stroll up but Ford, taking one look at the doll that has his face and looking mega cursed and jumping to buy it.

As he does, ignoring all danger signs such a purchase normally points to.

Ford does not clock the tiny red car as odd, or notice Stan's little porcelain hands only have 5 fingers, as they're kind of cracked and might be missing some. All he can focus on is the mystery of why it has his face and why it looks so terribly cursed. Maybe its haunted! Maybe there's a demon attached! What if it is cursed, and if so with what! Is it going to try and kill him in his sleep? Replace him or steal his body parts to replace the missing pieces? Local scientist is eager to find out!

Takes the Stan and his plus one car home, runs a bunch of tests, and grinning like mad every time he turns around and Stan disappears (Stan does not want to be tested on by his brother please and thank you, his life is already bad enough). Its like a reverse horror movie where the horror doll is trying to escape the person. Stan just wants to find a nice corner or something so he can bust out of his porcelian body and figure out how to fix his car in peace.

Ends with Stan behind bars so Ford can finish up studying this creepy haunted doll, which works right up until stan figures out how to pick locks. At some point Ford goes to bed and wakes up with Stan sitting above him on the bed (Stan got lonely and just wanted to watch his bro sleep, as you do in a totally not creepy way).

Stan either breaks the curse (it was already decaying since the witch died) or Ford goes 'oh just a curse :/ not sure why it looks like me, maybe if i uncurse it it'll look different' then gets hit with a full grown Stan, gasping and overly giddy at being a person. Less giddy because Stan's car busted through the walls of Fords house and Ford is just :0 at the fact that his brother was here as a tiny creepy doll and now he has to repair the study after pushing the car outside, getting blasted with Stan's nonstop commentary about being a doll and all the stuff he saw and really Ford should think twice about buying creepy dolls with his face. Stan could have totally murdered him so many times. Too eager to just move whenever he wants and oh god, Stan was stuck as a tiny doll and Ford bought him. What if he hadn't? What if Stan had been stuck like that forever?

Also Stan why? Why is this a thing that happened, who did you piss off (who does he need to curse back about it). Very disappointed to learn the witch dropped, and furious that Stan did literally nothing here to deserve it.

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #stan pines #ford pines #stan the cursed man #then they fight about something of course #as they do

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pucksandpower · 2 years ago

Text

Mine

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos wants everyone to know you’re his and he knows exactly how to make that happen

Warnings: 18+ content heavily implied, manipulation, tampering with birth control, pregnancy

“Who was that?”

You glance up to find Carlos’ gaze fixed on the rearview mirror of his sleek Ferrari, eyebrows furrowed. His usually cheerful brown eyes are clouded with something you can’t quite place.

“Who?” You ask, feigning ignorance though you know he’s referring to the tall, blond man who had lingered just a bit too long by your side during the after-race party.

“The cabrón in the blue suit,” he grinds his teeth. “Never seen him around before.”

“Ah,” you laugh, reaching out to playfully flick at the bridge of his nose, “just someone from the event planning team. Harmless.”

Carlos doesn’t smile back. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and the set of his jaw becomes more pronounced. “He touched your arm.”

“He was just being friendly,” you reason but a hint of defensiveness creeps into your voice.

There’s a pause as Carlos winds the car through the foreign streets. You can feel his frustration.

“You’re being naive,” he finally says. “It’s not just him. Everywhere we go, I see them looking at you. The way Daniel winks at you, how Lewis always finds an excuse to chat, even the staff and the fans. Don’t you see it?”

It’s not like you can deny that. Ever since the two of you went public with your relationship, attention has been inevitable. You’re the envy of many and the object of desire for countless others. But Carlos’ brooding possessiveness is new and you’re not sure how to address it.

“They’re just our friends,” you murmur. “And fans are fans. They’re excited to see you and by extension me too. That’s all.”

He exhales heavily. “It’s not just about them being friends or fans. It’s the entitlement, the audacity they have, thinking they can just ... approach you like that. Like they have any shot with you.”

You roll your eyes even though he won’t see it while focused on the road. “I can handle myself. Besides, I chose you. They’re nothing to me.”

The car pulls up to the entrance of a crowded nightclub, its entrance flashing with neon lights. Carlos stops in front of the valet, swiveling in his seat to face you.

You’re taken aback by the intensity in his eyes.

“Yes,” he says in a husky whisper, “you chose me. And I chose you. But I can’t stand by and watch these pretenders think they have a shot with you.”

You swallow hard, shocked by the raw emotion in his voice. “You can’t control who talks to me or looks at me. I love you and that’s all that matters.”

He leans in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I know,” his lips brush your skin. “But I also know how men think and I won’t stand for them disrespecting you or our relationship.”

“We’re in the public eye. This is something we will always have to deal with. Trust me, trust us.”

His gaze searches yours, dark eyes imploring. “I trust you,” he says. “It’s them I don’t trust.”

You wrap your fingers around his much bigger ones. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

Carlos sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I just … I can’t bear the thought of anyone else ever having you.”

Your heart swells. “Mi amor, I’m not going anywhere. The ring on my finger is there because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He pulls you across the console, setting you on his lap as he wraps his arms around you while ignoring the valet waiting right outside the car. “I know. I just ... I need to make sure that everyone else knows too.”

***

Carlos finds himself in a dimly lit pharmacy aisle, heart racing. The overhead fluorescent lights throw ghostly shadows between the narrow rows. He can hear the soft hum of a distant conversation, punctuated by the rustling of paper bags and the occasional beep of the cash register.

But for Carlos, everything feels distant, like he’s viewing the world through a thick veil.

He stops in front of a shelf, his gaze locking onto the birth control pills. Rows upon rows of them, each promising freedom … autonomy.

His mind rushes back to the countless conversations he’s had with you.

“I want to finish school first,” you would always say earnestly. “Kids are a big responsibility. We have all the time in the world for them later.”

But Carlos doesn’t feel like he has time. He has fought with this internal battle for months. The thought of marking you as his, of the world knowing through the unmistakable swell of your belly, appeals to his most primal instincts.

“Can I help you?” A voice interrupts his thoughts.

He turns to see the pharmacist looking at him with a tentative smile. He tries to gather his thoughts, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “I, um, need some pills. Sugar pills.”

The pharmacist frowns. “For a placebo effect?”

Carlos nods, trying to seem nonchalant. “Yeah, something like that. My little cousin needs them for her science fair project.”

She hesitates for a moment then reaches behind the counter, pulling out a small box. “We have these. They’re usually used for clinical trials but they should do the trick.”

He pays for the pills and quickly hides them in his pocket. He thinks about how you would react if you ever found out. But the thought of you carrying his child, the undeniable mark of his claim clear for all to see, is too much to resist.

The next morning starts as it always does. You stretch and make your way to the bathroom, your daily routine staring with the familiar sound of the pill package being opened.

Carlos stands at the doorway, watching as you take your daily birth control. He knows he should feel guilty but instead he is consumed by a heady mix of anticipation and possessiveness.

He imagines your body changing, growing round.

“Morning,” you smile up at him.

He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you. “Morning. How did you sleep?”

You lean into his embrace, enjoying the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “Like a baby. Must have been the post-race celebrations.”

Carlos chuckles but there’s a tension to it, an undercurrent of something more. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins.

You pull back slightly to look up into his eyes, “Mmmh. About?”

“Us. Our future.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What about it?”

He hesitates, his gaze searching yours. “I want to start a family with you,” the words come tumbling out in a rush. “I know you want to wait but the thought of you carrying my child … our child ... I can’t get it out of my head.”

“I love you," you choose your words carefully. "So much. But I’ve told you how I feel. I’m not ready.”

He lets out a heavy breath, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. “I know. I just can’t help how I feel.”

“We’ll get there when the time is right,” you press a kiss to his bare chest. “I promise.”

***

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, feeling his eyes linger on you as you change out of your dress. The dimly lit bedroom is filled with the ambient sounds of Mallorca nightlife. From the open balcony door, you can hear the soft crash of waves and distant murmurs of evening revelers.

Carlos chuckles lowly. “Like what?”

“Like you’re planning something,” you eye him suspiciously but your voice is playful

He stands, taking a few purposeful steps towards you. “Maybe I am,” he corners you against the wall. The heat of his body warms your own, even through the layers of clothing.

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Planning what?”

He leans down, lips grazing the curve of your ear. “To remind you,” he whispers, “that you’re mine.”

You shiver at his words, the dominant tone sending a thrill down your spine. “Is that so?” You challenge, arching a brow.

His hands slide down your waist, pulling you impossibly close. “Very much so,” he replies, sealing his words with a searing kiss.

As the two of you move to the bed, there’s an urgency, a raw need that wasn’t there before.

Every touch, every kiss, every caress feels even more intense than usual.

“Why are you so ... insistent tonight?” You gasp out through the overwhelming rush of sensations.

Carlos halts momentarily, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. “I want to make sure you never forget,” his voice is rough. “Forget what we have. Forget how deep this goes.”

“I could never forget,” your fingers move with a mind of their own to tangle in his hair.

His lips find yours again. “Promise?”

You nod, getting lost deeper and deeper in the moment. “Promise.”

Hours pass in a blur of passion and whispered confessions. The intensity of Carlos’ actions betrays an underlying need and desperation that are hard for you to place.

As the sun rises above the horizon outside, you find yourself curled up against Carlos’ chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

“You were different tonight,” you murmur as your eyes slowly lose their battle against sleep.

Carlos tenses momentarily. “I just wanted to make sure you know," he says lowly. “Know how much I need you. How much I want you.”

You prop yourself up on an elbow, studying his face. “I know,” you brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead. “But what brought this on?”

Carlos hesitates, searching for the right words. “I can’t shake the feeling that something is going to try to come between us,” he admits. “And I need to make sure that never happens.”

Your heart aches at his words and the vulnerability in his eyes. “Nothing is going to come between us,” you lean over to capture his lips tenderly. “We’re much stronger than that.”

Carlos smiles and flips himself on top of you once more. “I’ll make sure of it.”

***

“Ouch!” You exclaim, pulling away as Carlos’ hands brush against your chest. The sudden sensitivity catches you off guard.

Carlos raises an eyebrow, eyes darkening with a mix of concern and something else — something unreadable. “Mi corazón? What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of the unexpected pain. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling kind of ... off lately.”

He moves closer, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “How so?”

You shrug, “Just more sensitive, I guess. And tired. And don’t even get me started on how my clothes have decided to stop fitting properly.”

Carlos smirks, a hint of smugness playing on his lips. “Maybe you’ve just been enjoying Spanish cuisine a little too much.”

You roll your eyes, swatting him playfully. “Funny. But seriously, it’s weird. I’ve been doing my workouts, eating right, and still ...”

He pulls you close, fingers tracing the smooth curve of your waist. “I like the changes,” his voice is muffled as he presses a soft kiss to your neck.

You shiver, torn between the pleasure of his touch and the lingering feeling that something just isn’t right. “It doesn’t feel like me,” you try to shake off the unease.

Carlos tightens his grip, gaze intensely locked on yours. “Maybe it’s just ... natural changes. You know, as we get older.”

You frown, pulling away slightly. “But I’m in my twenties. I shouldn’t be feeling like this.”

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Look, bodies change. I’m sure everything is fine.”

You’re not convinced but you nod, pushing the uneasy feeling to the back of your mind. “Maybe.”

Carlos watches you closely, the smugness returning to his features. “Besides,” he says, voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I kind of like the changes. You look ... fuller.”

You blush. “Thanks, I guess.”

He laughs, pulling you close again. “Always so modest,” he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You melt completely against him, the warmth and familiarity of his touch pushing away the unease, at least for the moment.

But as the days pass, the changes become more pronounced, the nagging feeling that something is wrong growing stronger.

Carlos, on the other hand, seems happier than ever, his possessiveness reaching new heights. He is constantly by your side, his touch lingering, his gaze intense.

“You’re glowing,” he comments one day, eyes tracing your body.

You roll your eyes but hide a smile. “I think you need to get your eyes checked.”

“I’m serious. There’s something … different about you. I like it.”

You frown, trying to make sense of his words. “Different how?”

He thinks for a moment, searching for the right words. “You just seem more radiant. More alive.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “I think you’re seeing things.”

Carlos smirks. “Maybe,” his hands slip under the material of your shirt, caressing your slightly bloated belly. “Or maybe I just know you better than you know yourself.”

***

“I’m what?” Your voice wavers as you clutch the edge of the doctor’s desk in shock, the coolness of the surface grounding you.

The doctor, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looks between you and Carlos. “You’re pregnant,” she repeats gently, handing over the sonogram.

Carlos breaks into a wide grin. “That’s incredible!” He pulls you into a tight embrace, placing kisses all over your face.

But as the news sinks in, panic sets in. Your future plans — graduating with your degree, establishing a career — all seem to crash around you.

You gently extricate yourself from his hold, taking a deep breath. “How is this possible? I’m on birth control! We’re always so careful.”

The doctor tilts her head, looking through her notes. “No birth control method is 100% foolproof,” she says. “It’s rare but it can happen.”

Carlos’ fingers lace through yours, his touch warm and reassuring. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers, squeezing your hand.

Tears well up in your eyes, the overwhelming emotions threatening to drown you. “I still have a year of school left. I wanted to be established in my own career … this wasn’t part of the plan.”

Carlos cups your face. “Hey,” he murmurs, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “You don’t have to worry about any of that. You have me.”

You blink. “Carlos, I want to work. I want a career. I don’t want to be dependent on you.”

He smiles. "You won’t be dependent. You’ll be cared for. Isn’t that what you want?”

You take a step back. “I want to be my own person. I want to make my own choices.”

Carlos’ gaze darkens, the dominant edge returning. “You will be. But you’ll also be mine. That’s what is important now.”

***

You’ve quickly come to love the sensation of your growing belly, cherishing each gentle flutter and kick from the perfect being within, knowing that it’s a bond that only you and Carlos share.

“Good morning, little bean,” you whisper, rubbing the gentle swell of your belly. Every morning, this small act helps you bond with the life growing steadily inside of you.

Carlos enters the room, his hair still tousled from sleep. The morning sunlight casts a warm glow on his chiseled features. “Frijolito is lucky to have a such a beautiful mama,” he murmurs, sidling up to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. His hand finds its place on your belly, fingers splayed and feeling for any hint of movement.

“I am huge,” you complain with a mock pout.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss then pulling back to tilt your chin up. “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

“You have to say that,” you tease. “I’m carrying your baby.”

“Partly,” he admits, sliding his hand up to cup your face, “but mostly because it’s true. You would put Helen of Troy to shame.”

Weeks pass and your body continues to transform.

There’s a softness, a roundness, that wasn’t there before, and it’s something that Carlos revels in. His hand is constantly on your belly, possessive and protective. Every time another man’s gaze lingers a little too long on you, Carlos’ lips curve into a smirk, silently declaring his ownership.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You ask one evening as the two of you settle into bed.

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “Enjoying what?”

“Having every man that looks at me know that I’m yours,” you poke him playfully on the chest.

“Maybe,” his hand slides down your body. “Is that a problem?”

You sigh, nestling closer to him. “No,” you admit. “It’s kind of nice, actually.”

Carlos grins, pressing a kiss to your belly. “That’s my girl.”

The months fly by and soon the reality of your impending motherhood sets in. There are nursery preparations, birthing classes, and endless discussions about baby names. Through it all, Carlos is by your side, excitement never wavering.

“Can you believe we’re going to be parents?” You marvel one day, looking around the nursery.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Carlos says. “You and our frijolito are my everything.”

Happy tears well up in your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper, burying your face in his chest.

Carlos tightens his grip, resting his chin on top of your head. “Yo también te amo.”

The next race day arrives and as always, Carlos calm and collected. But recently there has been a different kind of energy to him, an intensity that was never there before.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you clutch his hand.

Carlos smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips and then another on your belly. “I promise,” he says, eyes locking with yours. “I have too much to come home to ever do otherwise.”

***

“It’s time,” you gasp, clutching the bedsheets as another contraction hits.

Carlos lets you grip his hand impossibly tight. “Breathe, mi corazón,” he urges, wiping the sweat off your forehead.

Hours pass in a blur of pain and anticipation. Through it all, Carlos is by your side, his touch both comforting and grounding.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a small cry pierces the air. Tears stream down your face as you catch your first glimpse of your son, his tiny face scrunched up in protest.

“He’s absolutely perfect,” Carlos says thickly, tears gathering as he kisses you gently.

You smile weakly, the exhaustion of a long labour weighing you down. “Our little bean,” you whisper, cradling your son close.

Carlos wipes away an escaped tear. “Our frijolito,” his gaze never leaves your son’s face.

As you start feeding your son for the first time, Carlos’ face softens and his eyes fill with awe. “I can’t believe we made something so amazing,” he traces a finger over your son’s tiny hand.

You smile, heart swelling with love. “He’s perfect,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face.

Carlos leans down to press a soft kiss to your son’s forehead and then another to yours. “You did incredible. Thank you for giving me everything I could ever ask for.”

You smile. “We did this together.”

Carlos nods, his gaze locked onto your son’s face. “I promise you that I will always take care of you both. You will never have to worry about a thing.”

“I know," you whisper as you let contentment and tiredness drift you off to sleep.

As the days pass, Carlos becomes even more possessive and protective, his love for you and your son deepening with each passing moment. He is constantly by your side, reluctant to leave either of you for even a second.

One evening, as the two of you sit on the balcony, watching the sunset while your son dozes away, Carlos turns to you. “I want to give you more.”

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “More what?”

Carlos smirks and pulls you close. “More children,” he murmurs, pecking your lips. “I want to fill you with my babies.”

You laugh, “One is enough for now.”

Carlos chuckles but his face is serious. “We’ll see.”

Carlos knows that he will ensure it happens just like he did before.

He’ll keep you bound to him forever.

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hellinistical · 2 months ago

Note

Thinking about how after care with Caleb changed when you got pregnant.

Has this man always given you the fluffiest heartfelt after care 100% but there’s just a different vibe now . Almost like his fatherly instincts have started kinking in already

As Caleb finishes inside you ( cause where else is his cum supposed to go ) it’s like a flip switches

“ is my pretty mama tired “

“ Caleb’s sorry mama, it’s just your so glowy and round can’t help it “ he says caressing your hair leaving soft kisses near your hair line.

After he’s done cleaning you up, he’s just so domestic it’s insane

He’s over here applying your stretch mark cream , your nipple cream like there’s not a step he’s gonna forget

“ “oh ! I almost forgot the stretch mark cream” he says , jumping up to go grab it off the night stand , “ now I want you to know pips i know this is an important step for you but… you know I have such a soft spot for your tiger stripes my girl “

To him your stretch marks are just a testament to you giving life and growing a baby that is made up of the love of the two of you , as soon as he sees them he just wants to kiss them up and down . His squishy tummy girl.

In an odd way it reminds him of when you were little . His pipsqueak who still had her baby fat and little round tummy he just thought you were the cutest little thing ever , even seeing as though he wasn’t much older than you at the time . With his soft features.

fast forward that same tummy is now round with his child who would have thought . He’ll never understand men who think there partners look worse during / after childbirth because when he looks at you he sees every life stage he’s been there for . He’s reminded that although you will be a mother now you’re just the same girl you’ve always been the same goofy girl he fell in love with all those years ago

The same girl who he would catch in the middle of the night sneaking the apples he had just purchased at the grocery store

Now sneaking apples in the middle of the night but not for her lunch the next morning but because she was nurturing the life inside her

The life that blossomed from years of love and sheer admiration and pining.

The same girl who would ask him to get her flintstones vitamins off the top shelf because she couldn’t reach them

Now asked the same thing but lnstead of little sugary chewies that we all know she ate just because she liked the flavor not because she was getting her daily vitamin c , was now asking him to get her prenatal vitamins out of the cabinet before bed because she couldn’t reach them

So sure is he tired 100% but he’s never gonna skip an aftercare session not when he gets reminded of the glimpses of you over the years .

Bro put a whole ass fic here ALSO FLINSTONE VITAMINS???? THE DUSTY ONES THAT MADE YOUR MOUTH DRY???

Caleb would probably be overly pampering, too, to the point it's almost annoying, and ya gotta tell him to tone it down. At least with the first kid. I do think that. But also I don't think he'd be tired from it as he takes great joy in it. Caleb's love language is acts of service. He gets life from providing to you, being of help and of use. And he genuinely takes such good care of himself and by extension you that I think he'd find a way to balance it all and be okay. And I don't think it's fair to use that he's been there since the beginning as a reason cause even if he wasn't it's just not who he is to think you'd look worse- and it's not like men can't have their opinions about this cause even some women think they look worse during pregnancy and it's just one of those things that are subjective between partners and their respective dynamics- Caleb's dynamic with you is just different. He craves that connection to show in some meaningful, tangible way. Ya know?

But ty anon 😊

#hellinistical #pandoras rambles #caleb x reader #caleb x you #loveanddeepspace #lnds caleb

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heavenlyraindrops · 8 months ago

Text

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Fourteen

available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag for other chapters | warnings: profanity, death threats (?)

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Fourteen:

You peeled your eyelids open. They felt practically glued shut as you eased Allison off of your lap- you felt feverishly hot, clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably as you got up to take a much-needed shower.

Allison woke up too, blinking. She looked fully rested. Regretting your lack of sleep, you disappeared into your bedroom to get ready for the day.

By the time you were done Allison had disappeared from the office and a man was sweeping up the glass from the carpet. You nodded at him as you put your hand on the doorknob, opening the door to reveal a veil of golden beaded strings.

“Leave even a single piece and I’ll cut your head off,” you said casually as you stepped through the curtain. He looked up at you nervously.

“Yes, Madam.”

You entered the lobby. You stepped out of the large, curved entrance you had for your office, turning around to see the rosy, warm, inviting interior before walking across the lush carpet of the front lobby, going for the stairs. The door opened and the familiar heavy frame of Sevika walked in.

“[name],” she said breathlessly, stepping forward towards you. “Silco told me about the deal. The-“

You walked straight past her.

You could feel her eyes burning onto your back as you stalked up the stairs, not sparing her another glance. Reaching the landing you leaned against the railing, taking a peek downstairs. You could just see the edge of Sevika’s boot, before she moved past the foot of the stairs to duck into a hallway. Another pair of feet followed her.

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself off of your leaning position, going down the hallway. You eventually reached the room you’d put Allison and her friend in, rapping your knuckles twice on the door.

The door opened to reveal the little girl, hair straight and black and dark. She looked up at you, shadows under her eyes, and panic flitted across her face.

“Madam,” she said quickly.

You didn’t bother with greetings or formalities. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

She looked at you, as if she was wondering which answer would get her head chopped off and which answer would get her a pat on the back. You continued:

“I don’t like little girls who lie.”

“I haven’t,” she admitted.

“Why not?”

“Sleep terrors.” You stepped into her room as she opened the door a little wider.

The place was sparse, with two bunk beds, a light and a rug. There was a tiny sack dumped in the corner, very few belongings spilling onto the hard wood.

You clicked your tongue, hands behind your back as you slowly turned, surveying the room. At least the beds were made, you noticed. The children were neat.

“What do you need?”

The girl looked up at you nervously. “Wh-what?”

“A shelf,” you remarked, looking at the empty space on the walls. “Would you like a desk? Can you read or write?”

She nodded silently.

“After I get you the basic components, this room is free for you to personalise as you wish.” With a twirl of your hand, you produced a small pin in between your fingers. “I need you measured for some new clothes too.” You crouched down to her level. “After that, you do whatever you want as long as you don’t get yourself in trouble. We give our people freedom here.”

“Does this place have a name?”

You stared at her sallow face, taken off guard by the question, then brushed aside her hair. “I’m not sure yet. All these years, and we’ve never had a name.” People usually called it the brothel. What did you have in mind?”

“The House.”

You laughed. “It’s quite boring for someplace as glamorous as this, don’t you think?” You eased the pin into her hair. “Here. This pin will mark you as a member of, er… this place.”

She ghosted her little fingers over it. “The Haven.”

You licked your lips, turning the name over in your head. “That’s… where did you learn a word like that?”

“I met a girl who told me about this place. She said it was a haven for people who were running away. I never knew what it meant.”

You hummed, then straightened up. “That’s a great name.”

“Thank you,” she said bashfully, shuffling her feet. Without another word you left through the door, hurrying down the stairs and back to your office.

You had barely made it to the beads before you heard your name again. You groaned, turning around to face Sevika.

“What do you want?”

“Five favours, huh?”

“I’ll call on you five times, and you will do whatever I tell you to without question.”

She laughed. “Or what? What if I don’t?” She took a step towards you. “You think you can just make me?”

You shrugged, clasping your hands together, the image of piety. “If you want to kill Donna, be my guest.”

She froze. “What?”

“What?” You batted your lashes at her innocently, beginning to circle her. She turned, eyes tracking your every move. “Is there something wrong?”

“What do you mean, kill Donna,” she hissed. You stopped walking, and turned to look at her abruptly.

“I mean, if you don’t follow the rules of the deal, Donna dies. It’s simple, really.”

You could see her clench her jaw. “Well, I wasn’t planning on disobeying anyways.”

“I’m sure you weren’t.” Your voice was smooth.

“I was just testing to see your reaction.”

“I’m sure you were.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a good person, [name]?”

You smiled thinly. “That’s far too much credit than what’s due. What ever gave you that idea?”

She stared at you disbelievingly. “You take in people in need. What else is there to say?”

You raised a finger. “One could say I exploit people in need. Sure, I exploit them with a strict moral code, but I’m using them nonetheless. It’s purely transactional. I know they need me, and I take advantage of it.” You shrugged. “Don’t go getting excited, now.”

“[name], if anything happens to Donna…” Sevika’s voice was a growl. You crossed your arms, sweeping a languid hand over your chin.

“Well, her performance has been quite lacklustre lately…” you snickered at her expression.

“I’ll fucking kill you with my own two hands.”

“I doubt you’d want to suffer the consequences of that.” Your eyes flicked to her cloaked shoulder. “No one would like it if you killed me with your one, single hand.”

Sevika stared at you, breathing heavily. Agitated. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Anything to get a rise out of my adversaries-“

She grabbed your shoulder, fingertips digging into your skin. You clicked your tongue, irritated.

“Ah- ah- ah. Don’t go assaulting me,” you gasped, scandalised. You drew your face close to hers, grinning. She scowled at you. Your eyes flicked to the corner.

There were about ten people standing in the corner, completely frozen from whatever they were doing. They all stared at Sevika unblinkingly. A silent warning.

“That’s creepy,” she muttered.

“I know,” you said gleefully. She released your shoulder and you stumbled back.

“Since when are we your adversaries?” She snarled. “We just struck a successful deal, for fucks sake. On amicable terms.”

I threw a knife at your boss. What part of that is amicable?

You scowled. “He will never be able to consider me an ally after the way he did me wrong, understood?” You stormed forward, jabbing a finger into her chest. “On my dead body will I help you sewer rats for anything that doesn’t involve my gain.”

“And what’s your gain?” Sevika whispered, voice scathing. You smiled widely, eyes glinting.

“His loss.”

“We need to expand.”

There was a map rolled out across the dark wood of your desk. You tapped a carefully manicured finger onto a specific spot in the undercity. Donna leaned over, inspecting the map with her sharp eyes. You drew slow circles on the spot and tapped it again. Allison was sitting on the sofa, watching you both with childlike interest.

“There’s too many people seeking asylum. We don’t have enough space.” You waved your hand to the ceiling. “Despite this place being massive, we need more.”

Donna propped herself up on her elbows, eyes tracing the river drawn on the map. “What’s that place?” She looked at where your finger was touching.

“It’s an old property that just got abandoned. Used to be a factory. The owner died to enforcers after he refused to give it up.”

“Why’d they make him give it up?”

“No idea. Probably because it wasn’t ’up to code,’ what they always say.” You bent over the table, eyes glinting. “They just don’t want Zaun to progress. To get more powerful.” Your voice was a dangerous hiss.

“How would one factory change that?”

Your eyes went from narrowed to normal and your muscles relaxed. “You’d be surprised.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “The enforcers just left after they finished moving all the stuff out yesterday night. The place is up for grabs.”

“Who’s to say we’ll get there on time? Before anyone else does?”

“I am,” you said firmly. “Send a team out, now, and set up something there. Spray our insignia on the front so no one dares to take it.”

So that was the plan. Take the factory, occupy it, and set it up. Of course you’d still run operations from the brothel- the Haven- but you could have it used as accommodation and more.

Donna was looking up at you with something akin to admiration in her eyes. You gave her a small, thin smile. You quite liked the girl.

You really hoped Sevika wouldn’t make you have to kill her.

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