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solxamber · 10 months ago

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Hi sol!!! My first request!!! :333

Yayy I'm happy we're moots <33 be sure to always stay healthy, drink water and stuff and have a good day/night/afternoon/evening :)

Anywaysss here's my request! (This is Romantic btw 😝)

Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with a reader (I say reader, just as a gender neutral term lol, also can the reader be in Pomefiore? :3) who is like a perfect role model for people— They're smart, kind and always understanding, mature. But what made them like the reader even more is that: even while they are all the aspects of a perfect model student; at the same time, they aren't like that sometimes.

They are understanding to people and responsible with their academics, but they also have a mischievous side— they can be a bit snarky and reckless in certain situations, they can effortlessly balance out their responsibility in school with their mischievousness (which sort of made them fall for the reader even more, bc they sound so cool and shi)

If the reader was with Ace, Epel. They'll show a more responsible and mature approach, they aren't entirely strict (unlike both of their housewardens) but will always tell them if they're doing something that would get them in trouble. But they do have slight instances where they are a bit out of character.. Like how the reader climbed a whole ass tree in their Pomefiore uniform to grab an item that was stuck on the tree (even if they could just grab it with magic) and gave it back

But on the other hand, If they were with Riddle, Deuce— I guess you could say that they can be responsible and mature, but with a more visible hint of mischief. They annoy Riddle for fun, teasing Deuce if he didn't know something that was pretty obvious already (they apologize, of course). Like how they annoyed Riddle so bad that they got collared, but came back with a strawberry tart that was decorated with red and white roses or how they slightly chuckle when Deuce is confused...

LIKE.. DO YOU GET MY VISION PELAKSEEEL ☹️☹️☹️😭😭😭 PLEASE GET IT... I KNOW MY ASK IS A BIT LING BUT THIS IS EATING MY BRAIN ☹️☹️

Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with a Pomefiore! reader

omg hi 🫶🫶 I think I saw the vision but let me know if you wanted something different!

Deuce Spade

Deuce had always admired how perfect you seemed—a Pomefiore student, embodying grace, responsibility, and intelligence. It was hard not to look up to you. You were someone who aced all your tests, helped classmates without a second thought, and stayed out of trouble. Or so he thought.

It wasn’t until you found him trying to fix an overgrown potion plant that things started to shift. Deuce, sweating buckets, was yanking at the roots of the plant, clearly struggling. “I don’t get it! How did this thing grow so fast? It’s like a magic beanstalk on steroids!”

You watched him for a moment, amused. “Deuce, you’re pulling at the wrong part. You need to loosen the soil around the roots first. Want some help?”

Deuce looked up, grateful, only to realize you weren’t offering your help with magic. Instead, you were already on your hands and knees, digging into the soil. The sight of a Pomefiore student willingly getting dirt under their perfectly manicured nails had him wide-eyed. He was about to say something when you added, “Come on, get in here, or we’ll be stuck dealing with this all day.”

It wasn’t just your willingness to get dirty that caught him off guard. It was your mischievousness. When he finally asked you about it, you just smiled, saying, “Being perfect is boring, Deuce. Sometimes, you’ve got to do things the fun way. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

And just like that, you made him laugh, breaking through his seriousness. You’d joke with him when he messed up, but never in a mean way. “Wow, Deuce, did you really forget to add the salamander tail? That’s like the second step of the potion.” And when he’d look at you in frustration, you’d quickly add, “I’m just teasing. Here, let’s fix it.”

He even started looking forward to your teasing. It wasn’t mocking—it was gentle, almost affectionate, and when you laughed, he found himself laughing too. One day, after a particularly exhausting lecture, you came up to him with a sly grin. “So, Deuce, how does it feel to know the square root of 144? Life-changing, right?”

He groaned but couldn’t help smiling. “Shut up…”

But the real turning point was when you climbed a tree in your pristine Pomefiore uniform. You were helping Deuce and Ace find something stuck in a tree—some stupid ball or something—and instead of using magic, you hauled yourself up the trunk like it was nothing. Deuce gawked, his brain short-circuiting as he watched you hop from branch to branch.

“You know you could’ve just… used magic, right?” he asked when you finally hopped back down, tossing the ball to Ace.

You shrugged, “Where’s the fun in that?”

From that day on, Deuce couldn’t stop thinking about you. Sure, you were responsible, smart, and reliable—but you were also fun, mischievous, and surprisingly laid-back. It was a combination that made his heart race. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to impress you more or just keep watching as you effortlessly balanced it all with that mischievous smirk.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was never the type to be easily impressed—especially by someone who didn’t follow the rules to the letter. But you? You were an exception. Not only were you the perfect role model, responsible and composed, but you somehow managed to bend the rules without ever really breaking them. It was infuriating.

The first time you caught his attention was when you strolled into the Heartslabyul rose garden, completely ignoring the chaos around you. Students were scurrying left and right, trying to meet the latest rule Riddle had imposed. But you? You sat down calmly with a book, unbothered by the hustle and bustle.

“What are you doing here?” Riddle asked, standing over you with his arms crossed. “Shouldn’t you be studying for the upcoming alchemy test?”

You looked up, your smile the picture of innocence. “I already finished studying. Plus, fresh air helps with brain function, doesn’t it?”

Riddle blinked, thrown off by your response. Technically, you weren’t breaking any rules. But something about your calm demeanor did break his sense of order.

The second time you caught his attention was during a dorm meeting when you lightly teased him about his obsession with rules. “Riddle, you ever consider relaxing? Maybe just once?”

He stared at you, utterly scandalized. “Relax? During an official dorm meeting?”

You just grinned. “Just saying. You’re going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”

Later that day, you upped the ante when you “accidentally” bumped into him and knocked a basket of strawberries onto the ground. Of course, you smiled sweetly, apologizing as you bent to pick them up, but then you slipped in a strawberry tart, decorated with red and white roses.

Riddle stared at it, completely baffled. “Did you—Did you paint roses on a tart?”

“Only the best for the Queen,” you replied with a wink, referencing the infamous Alice in Wonderland scene.

Riddle turned beet red, not from anger but because—against his will—he found it funny. He hated it. You were making him laugh, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Then, came the day you pushed him too far. You were teasing him, playfully challenging one of his many rules, and before you knew it—bam. Collar. You were collared.

But instead of being embarrassed or angry, you sauntered off and returned ten minutes later, holding up a plate of beautifully decorated rose-themed sweets. “Am I forgiven yet?”

Riddle stared at the plate, his face a mix of emotions. “You… can’t just—fine. But only because you followed the correct procedure for apology.”

What really sealed the deal was when you noticed how exhausted Riddle was after a long day. You didn’t say anything, but the next time he sat down, there was a cup of tea waiting for him—perfectly brewed. You didn’t even mention it, just went about your day as if it was no big deal. But for Riddle, it was a very big deal. You weren’t just smart and responsible—you were kind, mischievous, and somehow always knew exactly what he needed. And that terrified and intrigued him all at once.

Ace Trappola

Ace was always drawn to people who could keep up with his chaotic energy, and from the outside, you seemed like the last person who would. You were responsible, always got top marks, and never seemed to get in trouble like he did. You were a Pomefiore student through and through, the perfect picture of elegance and order. Or at least, that’s what Ace thought—until you proved him wrong in the most unexpected ways.

One afternoon, Ace was busy concocting his latest scheme—rigging a classroom window so that it would slam shut the moment someone opened it. Classic prank, a little outdated, but effective. Deuce stood beside him, nervously watching while Ace fiddled with the mechanism.

Just when Ace was about to finish, you appeared out of nowhere, your usual calm expression fixed on your face. “A window prank, Ace? Really?” you teased, looking unimpressed. “You’ve got to come up with something more original.”

Ace, expecting you to lecture him, leaned back with a smug grin. “What’s wrong? You too perfect to appreciate a good prank?”

But instead of walking away or scolding him, you walked over, inspected the rigging, and—with a sly grin—yanked one of the cords so that it was perfectly calibrated to snap the window shut just as someone walked by. “There. Now it’ll make a better sound when it slams shut.”

Ace blinked. “Wait—you’re actually helping me?”

You shrugged, your grin widening. “Might as well. You were doing it wrong anyway.”

And that was the moment Ace realized you weren’t just some stuck-up, model student. You were fun, and a lot sneakier than you let on.

It didn’t stop there. One day, the two of you were walking across campus when Ace noticed something strange. A lone broom was sitting outside of the library, left behind after flying class. You glanced at it, then at Ace, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. “I bet I can stand on it.”

Ace was taken aback. “You mean ride it?”

“No,” you smirked. “I mean stand on it.”

Before Ace could stop you, you were hopping onto the broom in your immaculate Pomefiore uniform, balancing on it like a circus performer. The broom wobbled as you grinned at Ace, one foot on the handle, your arms outstretched. “See? Easy.”

Ace gaped at you, half expecting you to fall off. “You know you’re going to break your neck, right? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one!”

“I’m responsible,” you said, hopping off the broom with a graceful landing. “I just know how to have fun.”

Ace didn’t know what to make of you. You weren’t just cool—you were insane in the best possible way. Who else would try to balance on a broom like it was a tightrope, in broad daylight, in front of the library? And still look like they had everything under control?

From then on, Ace couldn’t help but admire how you could be both the perfect student and completely unpredictable. One moment you’d be helping him with his homework, making sure he didn’t fail his classes, and the next, you’d be standing on a broom or rigging a prank right alongside him. You made the impossible look easy, and Ace was falling hard.

There was one day that really sealed the deal for him. After a long lecture, Ace was goofing off with Deuce, trying to sneak a piece of fruit out of the cafeteria without getting caught. You, being the mature one, walked up and raised an eyebrow. “Stealing now, are we?”

Ace snorted. “Come on, it’s just a piece of fruit. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Without missing a beat, you took the apple out of his hand, then tossed it over your shoulder—straight into the trash. “The worst thing is you could get caught.”

Ace stared at you in disbelief, then burst out laughing. You were sharp, clever, and always a step ahead of him. And it wasn’t long before he realized that maybe, just maybe, you were the one pranking him the entire time—by being so ridiculously cool without even trying.

Epel Felmier

Epel admired you from the moment you stepped into Pomefiore. You were the perfect model student—always well-behaved, top of your class, and you embodied the elegance Vil demanded. But what made Epel really start paying attention was that you weren’t just some delicate, rule-following Pomefiore statue. You were responsible, sure, but there was a wild side to you that came out in the most unexpected ways.

Take that time during broom riding practice, for example. Epel had seen you fly gracefully like it was second nature, while he was busy trying to not look like a complete disaster on his broom. Then, out of nowhere, you decided to take things to a whole new level. The instructor wasn’t paying attention, so you zoomed ahead of everyone, grinning like a maniac.

Epel watched in awe as you performed a perfect loop-de-loop before swooping down so fast you nearly gave Vil a heart attack. And, of course, you landed as if nothing happened, straightening your uniform and looking as poised as ever.

“Y-You can do tricks like that?” Epel asked, mouth agape.

You shrugged, brushing off the dust from your shoes. “It’s just flying. Gotta make it fun somehow.”

Epel couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

That day, Epel realized you were someone who could balance responsibility with freedom. He had always struggled with the restrictions of Pomefiore’s rigid beauty standards, but you managed to be both elegant and daring. It was like watching someone walk a tightrope with ease, and he was more than a little impressed.

But the thing that really cemented his admiration for you happened after one particularly intense Pomefiore training session. Vil had them all practicing their etiquette, posture, and poise, and Epel was on the verge of snapping. He wasn’t built for all this fancy stuff—he just wanted to be himself, rough edges and all.

After the session ended, you found Epel sulking by the fountain, muttering curses under his breath about how “ridiculous” all this refinement was.

“Need a break from all the beauty drills?” you asked, sitting down beside him.

Epel sighed, frustrated. “I just don’t get it. Why do we have to be so… proper all the time? Ain’t no one back home cared about sittin’ all pretty.”

You nodded, understanding. “I get it. Sometimes all this elegance stuff can be stifling.”

Epel looked at you in surprise. “You? I thought you were like… the perfect student. You never seem bothered by it.”

You chuckled softly. “That’s ‘cause I’ve learned how to balance it out. You gotta know when to let loose. Speaking of which…”

Without another word, you stood up, pulled your shoes off, and started wading into the fountain like it was the most natural thing in the world. Epel stared at you in disbelief.

“What in tarnation are you doin’?” he asked, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Cooling off,” you replied with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, you’ll feel better.”

Epel hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and kicked off his shoes, joining you in the fountain. You both splashed around, laughing like kids, completely disregarding the stares from the other Pomefiore students passing by. It was the most fun he’d had in weeks, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“You’re crazy, y’know that?” Epel laughed, wiping water from his face.

“Maybe,” you replied with a wink. “But sometimes, a little crazy is exactly what we need.”

From that day on, Epel saw you as more than just a perfect role model. You were someone who understood the pressure of perfection but also knew how to break free from it when necessary. And the fact that you didn’t mind getting a little reckless now and then? Well, that just made him like you even more.

Later, as the two of you dried off by the fountain, Epel found himself smiling—really smiling—for the first time in a while. You weren’t just cool; you were fearless, and that was something he admired more than anything.

Masterlist

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bamfkeeper · 1 year ago

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SFW Alphabet: Nightcrawler

a/n: yayy I finally got around to writing again, as I said here's a Nightcrawler alphabet. It feels good to write for the first time in a few months. I plan on writing actual fics though, once I have more out I'll take requests. For now, enjoy a SFW Alphabet! A NSFW will come later hehe. I'm getting the feel of writing him so I'll work out any kinks of things I don't like as I write more of him. I'm going to try to mix the variants of him and not stick with a solid version, so there will be mixes from comics and other shows, etc in his characterization. I hope you enjoy <3

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):

Kurt is very affectionate, he's a lover, so he likes to be close to you at all times. He likes giving you hugs, kisses, or simply giving you gifts like flowers or chocolates.

He likes spending time with you too, and he will call you sweet things in German because he likes to see you blush.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?):

He'd be a great best friend, always making sure you're doing good and supporting you through bad times. He'd be a blast to hang out with, he'd teleport you around Genosha and show you all the lovely sights.

He'd always make sure you felt cared for, even as just a friend, he'd still ensure you were safe and sound. He likes to have fun, so anytime you wanted to do something, he'd be down.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?):

Kurt is a huge cuddler. He is so soft because of his velvet skin, so he is extra warm. He makes the best cuddle buddy for winter because he keeps you warm, like a heated stuffed animal.

He loves to hold you, he often will rub your back or play with your hair, he will also read to you in German, which almost always lulls you to sleep. He loves to have his tail wrapped around you as well, keeping you secure.

Sometimes he likes to be held though, his upbringing at the circus didn't offer him much affection that way, so he cherishes it when he can be more vulnerable with you. Sometimes he puts that goofy self away and he crawls into your chest and curls up.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?):

Settling down is always something Kurt has wanted to do, but with his lifestyle, it can be hard to determine when.

He's always wanted a family, and he values that at his core, he would talk about settling down a lot with his partner and together, you'd figure out a good time. I think he'd want to settle when Krakoa comes around, after the attack on Genosha, your plans to settle had to be pushed back.

Kurt is German so of course he can cook. He is an excellent cook at a lot of things, but some foods he doesn't normally eat are a bit rough for him. He learns from trial and error.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):

If he had to, he'd do it in a way where your feelings would be taken into consideration. He'd be as gentle as possible, and he'd let you know that he still cares about you.

I don't think he'd want you out of his life, (unless you cheated or did something really bad), so even if you broke up, you'd still remain good friends.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):

Being a religious man, commitment is important to him. If he were with you, it would only be you he'd loyal to and he would date in hopes to marry.

He would go off of you, but dating is a trial run for marriage, and he dates for that. He would imagine your lives together, and he would like to marry after a year or so.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

He is very gentle, he is sweet and tender and learned to be that way because of all the hatred he experienced in his life. Everyone was afraid of him growing up, so he learned to be extra sweet and gentle to make up for his 'scary' appearance. He doesn't want anyone to be afraid of him.

Physically, he is as tender as ever, his touch is so light and sweet. He loves to caress your back or cheek while you sleep beside him, even his tail will run gently up and down your body.

He is very in tune with his emotions and empathetic to those around him. He is understanding, and is always ready to help you if you feel overwhelmed or upset at all. He is very good at dealing with emotions, and will always do his best to make sure his partner is okay.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?):

Kurt loves hugs! He hugs friends, family, lovers. He does it all the time, and he is one of the best huggers out there. He can squeeze happily, hold tenderly, and spin playfully.

When he embraces you, you can feel the love radiating off of him. It is one of your favorite things to feel him hugging you, and of course his tail wraps around you!

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?):

He would be a little nervous, but he would say it first. He'd either randomly blurt it out to you, or he'd make sure you were having a special time together and he'd speak it tenderly to you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):

Kurt can get pretty jealous, it stems from his insecurity. When he gets jealous, he will remain close to you with a hand on your hip or around you. He might kiss you on the cheek to tell whomever you're speaking to that you're taken. His tail will wrap around your arm or leg too.

He will grumble against you later on, he might feel a little more insecure after, but some reassurance and he will be okay again. If he got really jealous, he'd teleport you away and he'd take you somewhere so he could make sure you and everyone else knew you were taken.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):

Oh his kisses...such sweet, amazing kisses. He has experience, so his kisses would be perfect. He'd learn what you like, and he'd make sure you were breathless every time.

His lips would gently graze over yours, he smiles that cheeky grin of his and he would press them fully into yours. The kiss might be tender, might be a little more passionate, but his soft lips would make you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

He loves lip kisses of course, but he also likes to kiss your wrists and the back of your hand if he's feeling playful. He likes getting his temple and neck kissed, even if it makes him blush.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?):

Kurt is excellent around kids. He knows how to handle them, and he is quite playful with them. He always tells you how he wants a few little ones in the future, and he hopes you do too.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?):

Kurt isn't a morning person, he is a little whiny and grumpy when he wakes up, and he is rather clingy. He doesn't like to get out of bed but will trudge after you and hold you from behind if you make breakfast.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?):

Kurt loves his sleep, he values it. In the circus growing up, his mistreatment went as far as being isolated to a cage with a thin layer of hay as cushioning. So, now that he can have an actual bed, he adores it.

He likes soft blankets and pillows, curling up in them like a nest, and holding you close to him. He buries his face in your hair, or he snuggles into your chest for safety.

He doesn't snore, he learned to be silent when he sleeps, you don't ask why. But he makes a tiny purring noise, and his tail stays wrapped around you to make sure you're still there when he wakes up.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?):

Kurt is a pretty open person. Some of the things of his past that are hard for him might take him a while before he tells you, but he just needs to work up the courage. You know that he was mistreated in the circus, so don't pressure him to tell you. He will tell you everything, it just takes time.

He might tell you something that he is uncomfortable with that reminds him of his past or childhood, his playfulness is more serious when he talks about it so you know he's not joking around. He is so grateful you take it seriously and it makes him love you even more.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?):

He is very patient, he learned to be growing up. He can handle quite a lot of shit before he might get a little riled up and upset. Even if he does get angry, he tries to be as reasonable as he can.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):

He is like a safe, he locks away everything you tell him. Favorite flower, favorite color, little things you like and dislike. He remembers what seasonings you like best with what foods, how you like things cooked, literally everything.

He remembers important things like allergies and triggers, preferences, places to go, everything you say is so important to him. He surprises you with his knowledge too, even you forget you've told him things until he brings it up in conversation.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?):

Definitely when he said he loved you, it was such a special moment between you two and a defining day in your relationship. You grew so much closer, and it was a near perfect day. When he heard you say it back, he swore he died and went to heaven. His heart swelled so much and that day is definitely a core memory for him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):

Kurt is protective to a degree. He knows you can handle yourself, but he absolutely won't hesitate to step up and defend you. If anyone speaks about you in a poor manner, he jumps to defend you, especially if you aren't there. He doesn't let anyone talk bad about you.

If you are hurt or can't defend yourself, expect him to be more agile and aggressive than you've ever seen. He will swing those swords and defend you like precious treasure. (Which you are to him).

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?):

Every single date you have, Kurt puts so much effort into. He makes sure things are perfect, he remembers all the little things, he makes sure that you are enjoying yourself and that you have a wonderful time.

Every gift is special and sentimental. Even if it's silly and small, like chocolate, it is always your favorite flavor and brand.

Kurt will adjust to your love language, and acts of service is something he does a lot for you. He will cook, clean, anything if you're too tired to do it. And he never complains, always doing it with a smile on his face.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?):

The only thing that might be perceived as bad is he might be too playful sometimes. He might be a little too light hearted and silly when things need to be more serious, but he gets better with this habit as your relationship develops.

Sometimes his insecurities about his appearance can fester and they can make him slightly more irritable because he feels like you can do so much better than him. Just be sure to reassure him and it usually helps a lot to hear you say sweet things.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):

Kurt for the most part doesn't seem too concerned with his appearance, but he does have insecurities when it comes to his looks. Sometimes if he sees an attractive person speaking to you, he feels a little down when he thinks about his own looks.

Besides that, he is very aware of his hygiene because he is covered in velvety fuzz, so he washes himself every day and makes sure he is clean.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):

Absolutely. Kurt loves you with all his heart, you are his everything. Without you, he would feel like a piece of himself is missing. One of his worst fears is losing you, he often has bad dreams about it and wakes you up at night to make sure you're still with him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.):

Kurt was not a contortionist in the circus, but he might as well have been. Kurt is incredibly flexible, able to bend and twist in unnatural angles. He will show you all sorts of things he can do and loves to hear your praise.

He shakes off from the shower like a wet dog.

One of his favorite smells is fresh, buttery popcorn.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Kurt is a devout Catholic, so he wouldn't want anyone bad mouthing his beliefs. Kurt is very accepting and wouldn't try to convert you or make you believe in things you don't want, he keeps his religious beliefs to himself and only speaks if asked about it. However, if you bad mouth him or his beliefs, he will bristle and he won't like it.

He is open minded to hearing discussions or answering questions if you don't believe, but as long as they are respectful. If you talk poorly about it, he won't be interested in continuing the conversation.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?):

As mentioned before, Kurt loves to sleep. He didn't get a lot of good rest in the circus. So now that he is able, he tends to nest and curl up in a pile of soft blankets and pillows. He loves feeling secure and safe, which is something he never really got before.

If you rest with him, he's either holding you or snuggled into you. He likes to sleep in a dark place, it makes him feel more relaxed. Some nights when he has trouble, he listens to religious passages and he falls asleep quickly.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

#kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler #nightcrawler x reader #x men #xmen #🎠my works

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milk-bby · 2 months ago

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For a fic request could you do fluff with alanas? Pretty please and thank yous 🫶🫶 and I live ur work🫶

Melted hearts.

Alanas Brasas x reader

Wordcount: 1.0k

Warnings; fluff. so many pop-culture refrences. marvel slander (my bad chat). not beta read as i started writing at 10pm. Established relationship (can you guys tell i like this trope yet.)

A/n: THANK YOU ANON!! MY SECOND ALANAS FIC YAYY!! I hope you all like this one as much as the last one, because i enjoyed writing this one too. also i like his nose in that first pic so pretty. Fun fact: I called my friend's (@xbugs) planet zoo anteaters "Sigmund" and "Freud".

ENJOY!!

“Can I help you?”

Alanas looks at you suspiciously as you stand in the doorway of the living room, a bowl of chopped mango in your hand. Slowly, you pad over, setting it on the coffee table.

“.... i’m cold.” You mutter, dressed in his shirt and some tights. Without a word you sit next to him, lips staying pin straight, but your eyes glinting with a mischievous hint behind the irises he adores.

“You can put the hea- … no. no, you wouldn’t.”

You only grin wider, quick to move. He squirms before letting out an uncharacteristic squawk as you lay your frigid hands under his hoodie and onto his bare stomach. You cackle evilly, as if this was a huge betrayal scene in the millionth marvel movie that has the exact plot every time.

When he finally adjusts to the temperature of your hands, he lets out a shuddering breath, giving you a disapproving glance with a slight pout that only you would notice.

“You’re evil. So so evil.”

You don’t even move to deny such a claim, taking your hands out of his hoodie for now, going back to your fruit. You savour a cube of the juicy fruit that you dressed with a small bit of syrup. From your peripherals, you can see him slowly creep his hands towards your bowl. You only give him a side glance, frozen in place as you see his fingers grasp onto a big piece of the mango. If he didn’t want his phone to become sticky, you just know that you would have the most diabolical 0.5 taken of you with your cheeks half-full like a hamster suspicious of its owner’s hand changing the water bottle.

“... Not even a thank you? His greed sickens me.”

He laughs at your jab, getting out an “ačiū” before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You slightly grimace at the sticky residue now on your skin from his lips, but he only grins back as if this was payback doubly for the sin of touching him with cold hands. You believe he much prefers them warm, engulfed in his during any activity.

“You’re a thief.” He mutters suddenly.

“Oh for stealing your heart? Har har.” You wittily respond, almost expecting him to use a shitty one-liner that only ever works in a rom-com with too many sex scenes and no character development. Instead you get the opposite of what you expected.

“Sure, but that’s not your shirt. Or your mango.”

You stare at him blankly.

“...”

He stares back, just as playful as you are.

“Is this a ploy? I’m not falling for it.”

“Tt. I’m not an animal, you know… Except when I shred that guitar.”

Another silence runs between you from such a confident line you’d hear in a DisneyXD show or even in a series with the same quality writing as Miraculous Ladybug.

“I’m sorry.” He finally gets out with another tug at his lips.

“There’s no way you’re laughing at your own joke, man, what the hell. I felt like that one Gnomeo and Juliet clip of the frog dying from cringe.”

“It’s not a crime.”

“You’re making a good case for it to be a crime.”

“Wow.”

You both crack, leaning against each other as both of your laughter fills the room. The sound of joy being common between you both but it never changes. Even when your laugh lasts slightly longer than his does, Alanas doesn’t move to wrap up the joke, instead just looking at you like you’ve hung the stars all by yourself. He holds the same adoration in his gaze as if you had struck his heart with a million different chords that he can construct on each fret of the guitar, the stake of a muse piercing the muscle bluntly enough to rewrite how he loves you with the same result every time. That result will always be you in his arms after the sun descends.

It will always be you stealing his shirts and the fruit that he had planned to eat but never will. It will always be coming home from uni to find you trying to position your fingers correctly to make a chord on his guitar.

It will always be you to him, even if you give him a right jolt with hands colder than the melting ice caps.

Your laughter had ended a while ago by now, just staring back at him with the same starry eyes that makes him question if he really deserves the beauty and grace of your love (of which your answer has always been a yes, “what would i do without you?” and a kiss pressed to his lips).

Your lips both meet in the middle, locking together sweetly. You can taste the mango piece he stole from your bowl on his lips still, making you grin like an idiot into his lips. He can only reciprocate that energy with a small humoured huff into your lips, teeth lightly catching your bottom lip as you pull away.

“Are you still cold?” He whispers against your lips, assuming you have in fact warmed up from all the laughing, his touch and the kiss. He expects a no, despite the fact that he knows you’ll find an excuse to touch him more, to feel your skin on his, heartbeat to heartbeat slowly syncing.

Predictably, you nod, abandoning the mango to cosy up to him. Alanas raises his eyebrow as you start to lift the edge of his hoodie. With the same deviousness as before, you settle yourself into his hoodie, snuggled under the now stretching fabric. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, already slowing to match yours.

“Hi. This is… drastic, isn’t it sweetheart?”

“Maybe. But you’re warm. Can you blame me?”

“I guess not.”

#eurovision 2025 #eurovision x reader #katarsis #alanas brasas x reader #katarsis x reader #alanas brasas #lukas radzevičius x reader #fluff

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wchswift · 6 months ago

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HABZHSBAH HIII LINAAA (it's me again 😭) gosh i don't want to appear as a desperate but it seems that you're the only who opens your request for leopold 😔😭

just a small request :3 from a prompt that i encountered "... sorry, i talked too much" "no no no not at all, keep talking. i love listening to you."

well, we all know what a gentleman leopold is HABSUSBSH (I NEED HIM SO BAD MY BABY), i don't have any plot in mind so maybe you could create yours based on the prompt?? thank you!! (i love your writings)

Every Word You Say

Pairing: Leopold Mountbatten x Reader Content: strangers to friends to lovers (kind of), yapping, fluff, reader is a bookworm, Leopold is head over heels, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 2.6k (maybe I got a little excited) a/n: HIII ZAYN BESTIE!! I'm so happy you're sending me requests yayy, thanks to you I could write to Leopold my baby again (pls keep going)! okay I have to admit that I loved this prompt and maybe I got a little carried away about the plot... Maybe I've strayed a little from what you wanted (I hope not), but I really hope you like it cause I really enjoyed writing it <3

It was a good afternoon. The store was quiet, as usual, with only a few customers coming and going and not much activity. Afternoons like that were nice—there wasn't much work to do, but sales were enough to keep the place from feeling forgotten. This allowed some time to relax behind the counter and arrange books on the shelves.

The faint jingling of the brass bell above the door broke the comforting silence of the shop. The sound made her look up from the stack of books on the counter, brushing a stray hair from her face as she spotted the man who had just entered.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, with an air of calm that seemed at odds with the frenetic city outside. His coat was neatly buttoned, his shoes polished, and he carried himself with a poise that made her pause. New Yorkers weren’t usually this... composed. It was weird. But most importantly, he was so beautiful.

“Hi, good afternoon,” she greeted, flashing him a polite smile. “Let me know if I can help you find anything.”

The man hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes scanning the shelves. “Thank you,” he said, his voice smooth and deliberate, the kind of voice that made even the most mundane words sound elegant.

She went back to organizing her stack of books, sneaking a glance now and then as he browsed. He moved slowly, as though savoring the sight of each title, his fingers brushing over the spines like they were relics. Finally, he stopped at the classics section and pulled out a leather-bound book.

He turned to her, holding the book aloft. “This edition of The Odyssey... it’s rather splendid. Do you recommend it?”

She blinked, surprised at his formality. “Oh, definitely. It’s one of my favorites. That edition has some great commentary in the back, too. Though, fair warning, if you get me started on books, I might not shut up.” She confessed, her tone amusing but gentle.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I assure you, I regret nothing. Please, continue.”

She smiled genuinely at him, feeling a small flutter of surprise at his response. Most people gave a polite nod or chuckle when she rambled, but this man seemed really interested. Encouraged, she leaned against the counter, her hands gesturing animatedly as she began talking.

“You can’t go wrong with The Odyssey,” she said. “I mean, it’s a classic for a reason, right? Epic journeys, gods meddling in human affairs, monsters… And don’t get me started on Odysseus himself. Brilliant, but also kind of an idiot, if you ask me.” She laughed, then quickly added, “Oh, but you know... I mean that in the best way, of course.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Hm, Is that so? Fascinating perspective. You find fault with his decisions?”

“Oh, plenty,” she replied, warming to the topic. “Some of his problems are his own fault—like the whole Cyclops thing? That could’ve been avoided if he’d just kept his mouth shut. But that’s what makes him interesting. He’s flawed. Human. It makes the story feel timeless, even though it’s thousands of years old.”

As the words tumbled out of her, she noticed his expression soften. His gaze didn’t waver, his posture relaxed yet attentive, as though he were cataloging every word she said.

So she just kept talking, completely oblivious to him or how he was mesmerized watching her, the excitement and ease with which she lost herself in the topic. After a moment like that, it was like something hit her, realizing how much she’d been talking, she stopped abruptly, her cheeks heating. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that. You came for the books and probably weren’t expecting an impromptu lecture on Greek mythology.”

He tilted his head slightly, his smile deepening. “Not at all. Your enthusiasm is... refreshing. Please, go on.”

Her lips twitched in a smile of her own. “You’re dangerous, you know that? Most people try to shut me up, but not you. You’re encouraging me.”

“I can’t imagine why anyone would wish you to stop,” he replied earnestly.

The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily speechless. She licked her lips, momentarily speechless and lost in him. After that, she just knew she would want to keep him in her life for as long as possible.

After that, it didn’t take long for him to return.

As she rearranged a display near the window the next afternoon, the bell above the door jingled again. She glanced up, half-expecting the usual flow of customers, only to see the same man from the day before.

He greeted her with the same polite nod and reserved smile, his gaze sweeping over the shop like he was committing every detail to memory.

“Back so soon?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

He stopped near the counter, his posture impeccably straight. “I enjoyed our conversation yesterday. And I have a fondness for bookshops.”

“Well, then you’ve come to the right place,” she said, gesturing to the shelves around them. “Find anything interesting today?”

He paused, his gaze flicking to the classics section before returning to her. “Not yet, but I have no doubt you will recommend something.”

“Challenge accepted,” she said, already scanning the shelves in her mind for the perfect book. "Oh, sorry. What's your name again?"

As the days passed, Leopold's visits became routine. He would step into the shop with that same calm air, and they would talk—about books, history, the city, and whatever topic struck her fancy. He never seemed to mind when she rambled, always listening with the kind of focus that made her feel like the most fascinating person in the room. Something she wasn't even a little bit used to, by the way.

Their interaction was so easy and natural. When she talked to him, was always exciting and gave her a feeling of comfort. So it wasn't exactly a surprise when she quickly grew accustomed to his presence. It was strange how easily he fit into the rhythm of her days, even though she knew so little about him.

Each time he came in, she found herself lighting up in ways she hadn’t expected. She would recommend books, tease him about his formal speech, and talk about whatever was on her mind, and he never failed to listen with unwavering attention. She never, not once, felt uncomfortable or unseen in his presence. He was like a prince in a fairy tale.

One rainy afternoon, as she stacked a new shipment of books behind the counter, the man who wouldn't leave her thoughts walked in with droplets clinging to his coat and hair. She glanced up, smiling automatically.

“Caught in the rain, huh?” she asked, setting down the stack.

“Indeed,” he said, brushing water from his sleeves. “Though I find it a small price to pay for the solace this shop provides.” He complimented, in his usual formal way.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You always know how to make the place sound fancier than it is. It’s just a bookshop, you know.”

He tilted his head, a faint smile gracing his lips. “To you, perhaps. To me, it is quite extraordinary.”

The quiet sincerity in his voice made her breath catch for a moment. She quickly looked away, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve.

“Well,” she said, her tone lighter, “if you’re going to keep flattering the place, I should at least give you a tour of the neighborhood. There are some other spots I think you’d like—if you’re interested.”

His eyebrows rose slightly, as though the suggestion surprised him. “I would be delighted,” he said, feeling his heart race.

This finally happened two days later.

The city bustled around them, cars honking and voices blending into a constant hum, but she took him down quieter streets, pointing out her favorite spots.

“This café has the best pastries,” she said, gesturing to a small storefront with a faded awning. “And the park a few blocks down is great if you need to get away from all this.”

He listened attentively, nodding at her words but occasionally glancing around with a furrowed brow, as though trying to make sense of his surroundings.

When they reached a crosswalk she stepped forward without thinking, only to realize he hadn’t moved. She turned back to see him standing on the curb, watching the cars zip by with a look of mild apprehension.

“Hey, you coming?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Is it always this... chaotic?” he asked, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

“Pretty much. You just have to commit to it.” She grabbed his arm lightly, tugging him forward as the light changed. “Come on—don’t think, just go.”

He followed reluctantly, muttering under his breath, “This city has no regard for decorum—or the sanctity of life.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I swear you'll get used to it. Well, eventually.”

As they walked through the park, the noise of the streets faded behind them, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of joggers. She led him to a bench near a small fountain, sitting down and patting the spot next to her.

“See? Not so bad, right?” she said, leaning back with a contented sigh.

He settled beside her, his posture as upright as ever. “It is... quieter than I expected,” he admitted. “Rather pleasant, in fact.”

“I knew you’d like it,” she said, smiling. “You know, You're not as hard to please as you seem.”

He gave her a sidelong glance, his lips twitching in a faint smile. “Oh, I imagine this is good?”

She laughed softly, and for a moment they sat in comfortable silence, watching the fountain's water ripple in the breeze. They enjoyed being at peace, simply appreciating each other's company.

That evening, he returned to the bookshop. The streets were quieter now, the glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the floor as she tidied up before closing.

He lingered by the counter as she talked, her words spilling out in an excited stream as she recounted a childhood memory sparked by a book she’d come across earlier that day.

“So when I was ten, I had this phase where I was obsessed with The Secret Garden,” she said, gesturing as she spoke. “I even convinced my dad to help me plant this tiny garden in our backyard. Except, I was an awful gardener—I kept forgetting to water it, and half the flowers were just weeds I thought looked cool.”

She laughed, shaking her head at the memory. “But I’d still sit out there for hours, waiting for my own magical door to appear. My dad always called it my ‘weed palace.’”

Leopold chuckled softly, his smile warm. “A ‘weed palace,’ you say? Peculiar, but at the same time charming.”

“Well, maybe to you,” she replied, grinning. “To everyone else, it was probably an eyesore.”

She paused, glancing at the clock and suddenly realizing how long she’d been talking. Her cheeks flushed as she glanced at him.

“Oh God... I’m sorry, I talked too much. I really need to learn when to stop.”

Leopold, who has been utterly captivated, loses the humor in his eyes, his expression shifting to something quieter, warmer as he tries to reassure her.

“No, no, not at all. Keep talking. I love listening to you.” he said softly.

Her breath caught at the earnestness in his voice, the way his gaze held hers as though he truly meant every word. For a few seconds, she could only stare, her usual quick wit failing her.

“Thanks,” she murmured finally, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

The warmth in his eyes didn’t waver, and in that quiet moment, the bustling world outside seemed to fade away entirely.

A comfortable silence settled in for a few minutes. Leaving them there, just staring at each other, observing each other. For a moment, she didn't know what else to say. People didn’t usually look at her the way he was now—like every word she said was worth hearing. It was flattering, a little unnerving, but mostly... nice. She blinked a few times, adjusting her posture while lightly playing with her hair, hoping to dispel the warmth creeping into her cheeks.

The quiet between them was the kind of silence that felt full, warm, and fascinating. She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, glancing at him as he remained by the counter, looking as though he had something more to say.

Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke, her voice soft. “You know, you’re a pretty good listener. Most people get bored with my stories halfway through.”

He shook his head slightly, his lips curving into that faint, knowing smile she was beginning to adore. “I find your stories enchanting. They are... a window into a world I often feel I’m only just discovering.”

Her brow furrowed at the odd phrasing, but before she could question it, he stepped a little closer, his hands gently resting on the counter. His gaze softened, the usual formality in his expression giving way to something more vulnerable.

“It’s rare,” he continued, his voice low, “to find someone who speaks with such passion. Most people... say so little of consequence. But you—your words, your thoughts—they breathe life into even the most mundane things.”

Her heart gave a tiny flutter, and she felt warmth creep up her neck again. “That’s... really sweet of you to say,” she murmured, looking down at her hands.

For a brief moment, uncertainty flickered across his face. He took a deep breath, then, with a soft, deliberate motion, tilted his head to meet her eyes. The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable as he declared, “I speak only the truth.”

The sincerity in his voice sent a spark of something unnameable through her chest, and she met his gaze, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

“Well,” she said lightly, trying to steady her voice, “if you keep flattering me like that, I might start to think you enjoy my company.”

His smile deepened, feeling more real, with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I should hope that has been apparent for some time.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re kind of a mystery, you know that? But... I think I like that about you.”

“And you,” he said, his tone softening again, “are an open book. A rare and beautiful one.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she couldn’t look away from him. The faint glow of the shop’s dim lighting reflected in his eyes, and the quiet hum of the world outside seemed to fade entirely. She momentarily dropped her gaze to his lips before his voice brought her back.

“Would you,” he began, his voice careful, almost hesitant, “permit me the honor of accompanying you on another of your walks? Perhaps tomorrow?”

She bit her lip, her heart racing in a way that felt new and thrilling, together with the urge to jump into his arms. “I think I’d like that,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper.

He straightened slightly, a look of quiet satisfaction crossing his face. “Then it’s settled.”

As the bell above the door jingled softly, signaling his departure, she stood there for a moment, watching him disappear into the night. She closed her eyes as a painful smile appeared on her face, she quickly did a happy dance before lightly resting her hands on the counter.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#kate and leopold fanfic #leopold mountbatten x reader #kate and leopold #leopold mountbatten #leopold mountbatten fanfic #leopold mountbatten x f! reader #hugh jackman x reader #leopold mountbatten 🪽

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nayiana0 · 2 months ago

Text

Quiet Until You | 7

⋮ ⌗ ┆analysis : you had everything under control—your grades, your goals, your walls. but when Choi San, the school’s troublemaker, gets assigned the seat beside you .. control is the first thing to go. he talks too much. smirks too often. And somehow, when detention throws you two into each other’s orbit for real, the tension gets harder to ignore—and so do the feelings. she was quiet. until him.

⋮ ⌗ ┆ genre : slow burn, fluff/angst, romance, enemies to lovers.

⋮ ⌗ ┆ warnings : explicit content - fingering , bathroom sex.. ect.. lots of angst.,(healed with some fluff), anxiety, healing.

wc : 11.1k.

a/n : crazy bathroom scene all i can say is WOW and then we hit that awkward little distance right after?? because feelings?? accountability?? yeah we’re growing now. slowly but surely. character development is in the air AND we're finally starting to introduce new ppl from here yayy im really enjoying writing this thanks for reading!!

also if theres any mistakes sorryy

══════════════════════ ✧. ┊⋆ ★

*Chapter 7: Don't Ruin This**

You’re curled up on the end of San’s bed, half-scrolling through your phone, half-listening to him mumble something under his breath while fixing his speakers for the tenth time today. The bass kicks, then cuts off. Again.

You don’t even look up when your phone buzzes—until it buzzes again. And again.

It’s Rina.

Rina: i KNOW ur at eli’s Rina: but listen Rina: party tonight. jacksons’ place. Rina: bring ur boyfriend or ill unfriend you Rina: im serious

You smirk, tapping out a response.

You: he’s not my boyfriend anymore yk this Rina: yet You: shut uppp Rina: 10pm. dont be late

You toss your phone onto the bed and look up. “Hey.”

San’s crouched on the floor, sleeves rolled up, a speaker wire in his mouth for some reason. “Mm?”

“There’s a party tonight.”

He spits the wire out. “Whose?”

“Jackson's.”

He raises a brow, stands, and stretches. “That guy who always wears turtlenecks in the summer?”

“That’s the one.”

He groans playfully. “Alright, I’m listening. What’s the occasion?”

You shrug. “It’s Rina. She probably made one up.”

He smirks. “And she wants us there?”

“Specifically said bring your boyfriend.”

San blinks. “Wow. She’s bold.”

“She’s not wrong.”

He pauses, eyes on yours, just for a second too long. Then he clears his throat, scratches the back of his neck. “So… uhh.. are we going?”

You stretch your legs, pretending to be casual. “Only if you wear that black shirt I like.”

His lips twitch. “Thought you said I wasn’t your boyfriend.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t request a little eye candy.”

He chuckles, walking over to his closet. “You’re lucky I look good in everything.”

You roll your eyes. “You're so delusional.”

He throws a pillow at you without turning around.

While he’s picking out his outfit, you grab your phone again and text Rina.

You: we’re coming 😮‍💨 Rina: YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Rina: pls look hot i’m begging You: lol always do

When he returns, dressed halfway—shirt unbuttoned, sleeves still rolled up—he grabs his keys and says, “Alright. Let’s get you home so you can pick something dangerously hot to wear.”

You give him a look. “Dangerously hot?”

“I plan on driving you and getting jealous of everyone else seeing you. It’s only fair,” he says, holding the door open with a smug grin.

You roll your eyes, cheeks warm. “Shut up and drive.”

He chuckles, tossing you the aux cord as you both head down the stairs. “You pick the vibe. Just don’t blame me when I crash the car looking at you too long.”

—

San parallel parks like it’s a competitive sport, one hand on the wheel and the other lazily resting on your thigh like it belongs there. He throws the car in park and glances over at you, grinning.

The second you’re inside, he drops onto the edge of your bed with a dramatic sigh, legs spread, arms back, like he’s trying to take up all the space.

He watches you move toward your closet, eyes following every little thing like he's got no plans to look away.

"You're not wearing that to the party, are you?" San's voice was a blend of amusement and disbelief. You looked down at your outfit, a simple crop top and pants that had seen better days.

"What? It's comfortable," you protested, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

"You're beautiful, but this isn't going to cut it. Not for tonight." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he rummaged through your closet, tossing outfits onto the bed.

Your phone buzzed, it was Rina telling you to hurry up. "Looks like we're out of time," you sighed, grabbing the first dress that caught your eye. It was tight, short, and a color that made your skin glow. "Fine. Happy?"

San stepped back, giving you an appraising look. "Perfect," he murmured. "Now, let's go make an entrance."

—

The party was in full swing when you arrived, the bass thumping through the walls. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol and the chatter of a hundred voices. You clung to San's hand as he led you through the crowded room, feeling the heat from the bodies around you.

"Let's play a game," he suggested, nodding towards a group huddled around a table. But when you got there, you saw the look of disappointment in his eyes. There wasn't an empty seat to be found.

"It's fine," you said, but he was already scanning the room. "There's nowhere to sit."

Without missing a beat, he said, "You can sit on my lap." He grinned, and you found yourself nodding in agreement.

You settled onto his knees, the warmth of his body seeping into you. The game began, and you were soon lost in the laughter.

But then, you felt something else. Something that you couldn’t ignore pressing against your thigh. You glanced at San, and his eyes met yours.

The atmosphere shifted, charged with an electricity that made your heart race. He whispered something into your ear, his voice low and urgent.

"I'll be right back," he said, standing up.

You watched as he made his way through the crowd, his hand still lingering on your arm. You barely could hear what he was saying over the noise of the party, but you knew you had to follow him.

As he disappeared into the bathroom, you took a deep breath and counted to five.

1 2 3 4 5

Then, you stood up and followed him. The music grew fainter as you approached the bathroom door, the only sound the beat of your own heart.

You pushed it open and stepped inside.

San was waiting, his back to you, the room spinning slightly from the dim light and the anticipation. He turned, and before you could say a word, his lips were on yours.

His hands found your waist, lifting you onto the counter with surprising strength. The coolness of the bathroom counter sent a shiver down your spine, and you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer.

His whispers were hot against your skin, “You’re so beautiful” he said and you felt yourself blushing.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of your skin, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of you.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice a soothing caress. His hand drifted under your dress, and you gasped as his fingers grazed the edge of your panties.

The fabric was already damp with your arousal. He groaned into your mouth, the sound sending a thrill through your body. He broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, "You're so wet for me."

You gasped as his fingers found your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. "Let me take care of you." His touch was feather-light, teasing, making you squirm.

And then, with a gentle tug, your panties were pushed aside, and his fingers slid inside you. Your eyes rolled back, and you bit your lip to keep from crying out.

The sensation was overwhelming, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you.

You had no idea where this was leading, but you didn't care. You were his, and he was yours, in this moment of passion amidst the chaos of the party.

San's eyes never left yours, watching as your pupils dilated with each stroke. He knew exactly what he was doing, his thumb circling your clit while his two fingers curled upwards, reaching for that sweet spot deep inside you.

"More," you moaned, arching into his touch.

His fingers grew bolder, stroking and teasing until you were panting, your hips rising to meet his hand.

"Come for me," he whispered, his voice a dark, seductive command that sent you spiraling over the edge.

He watched your reactions, the way your breath hitched, and your body tensed up.

"San–fuck–I cant–," you moaned, your voice muffled by his hand.

His eyes darkened with desire, and he whispered, "You can take it, baby. Just let go."

He was right, you could feel yourself reaching the brink of your orgasm. You tightened your legs around his waist, urging him closer.

“San,” you whispered.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a gentle coax. "Let go, baby." And you did, completely.

Suddenly, his movements grew more intense, his eyes never leaving yours. He found your G-spot, and your whole body jolted.

You were so close, your breaths coming in short gasps. His fingers moved faster, the sound of them disappearing into your wetness echoing in the small bathroom. "San," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"I want all of you." And with that, he slid down your body, his mouth finding your center. His tongue was warm and insistent, tasting you, savoring you.

The world around you seemed to fade away as he continued, the pressure building until you couldn't hold it back any longer.

You threw your head back, and a scream almost tore from your throat as your body convulsed with pleasure.

San's hand shot up to cover your mouth, stifling the sound as you came, your legs shaking with the force of your orgasm.

He held you there, his eyes never leaving yours, as your body pulsed around him. It was almost too much to handle, but you didn't want it to end. His touch grew softer, more gentle, as he felt your climax begin to subside.

When you finally caught your breath, you looked at him, a mix of surprise and satisfaction on your face.

He smiled, his own arousal clear through his pants. "I want more," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. And in that moment, you knew you'd give him everything.

But as your legs trembled against his body, you whispered, "I need a break. I-I can’t take anymore" It wasn't a rejection, just you admitting to the overwhelming sensation passing through you.

San shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours, "You can," he assured you, his voice a soothing balm. "You can take it all, baby." and kissed a trail down your neck.

He could feel your heart hammering against his mouth as he reached your breasts, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your dress.

Keeping his eyes on yours, and without breaking contact, he effortlessly lifted you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms tight around his neck, face in his neck, and you felt his hardness press against your center.

You thought he'd give you the break you'd requested, but instead, he reached down and pulled his cock out of his pants. It was thick and heavy, the tip glistening with precum.

You stared at it, your eyes wide, as he positioned himself, your body already preparing for him. "San, I can't," you whispered, but his only response was to lean in and kiss you again, his tongue delving deep into your mouth.

And then, without warning, he slipped inside of you. You gasped as he filled you up, your legs shaking as you took his length. The suddenness of it was almost too much, but the pleasure was intense, making your toes curl.

He didn't stop, didn't give you a chance to adjust. He just held you there, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move, his kisses growing more desperate with each stroke.

You felt the walls of the bathroom cool against your back as he pushed into you, hard and deep.

His hand muffled the sound of your moans, mixing with the music from the party outside.

The sensation of him inside you was intense, the feeling of fullness and desire threatening to consume you entirely.

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered in your ear, “You okay?”

You nod, lips parted, barely able to speak.

“Use your words, baby.”

“I’m good. I just—” You swallow.

And then he slammed into you, not even letting you finish your sentence, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing in the small space.

You could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building once again. "Don't stop, please" you begged, your voice barely a whisper.

And he didn't. He thrusts harder, faster, his own whimpers becoming louder, until you were both lost in the moment, stumbling on the edge.

You felt the second orgasm crash over you, even more intense than the first. San followed you over the edge, his body tensing as he came, filling you up with his warmth. He held you there, inside of you, as you both rode the waves of pleasure.

When it was over, you slumped against him, boneless and satisfied. He rubbed your back gently, his eyes filled with love. "You're mine," he whispered into your ear, “All mine,” and you had no doubt that it was true.

He slipped out of you, his cock glistening with your arousal. He chuckled softly, a teasing flicker in his eye as he set you down gently on wobbly legs. "You were being pretty loud," he said, his voice a mix of affection and amusement. You felt your cheeks heat up, remembering your cries of pleasure.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips, and whispered, "But, the way you took it all, the way your body responded to me... it was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard."

With tender strokes, he began to clean you up, using a warm cloth to wipe away any evidence of what had just happened.

His touch was gentle, careful, as if he was worshipping your body. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling a sense of belonging that was hard to avoid.

He tossed the cloth aside and pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms strong and reassuring around you.

"I can't get enough of you," he murmured into your hair, his voice filled with a raw need that made your heart race. You knew he meant it, and that knowledge was intoxicating.

Pulling back slightly, he kissed your forehead, his eyes searching yours. "Ready to go back out there?" he asked.

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of excitement and a bit of anxiety. You'd just had the most intense sexual experience of your life in a bathroom at a crowded party, and now you had to face everyone with a secret smile on your face.

He grabbed your hand and led you out, but as you stepped out,

Rina was there, her eyes wide and curious. "What the fuck happened in there?" she yelled over the music, a look of curiosity spreading across her face.

You blushed, feeling the heat of San's gaze on you. He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. "We had a little... accident," he said, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction that had you rolling your eyes. "I'll tell you about it later," you whispered.

Rina winked at you, her gaze flicking down to your disheveled state and back up to your flushed cheeks. "An accident?," she said, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

But she didn't push, instead grabbing two drinks from a passing tray and handing one to each of you. "Cheers to ‘accidents’," she said, clinking her glass against yours.

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, music, and stolen glances.

Every time you felt his hand on you, whether it was a gentle squeeze of your thigh or a possessive grab of your ass, you felt a jolt of desire shoot through you.

And every time you caught his eye, you knew he was thinking about the bathroom, about what he'd done to you and what you'd done to him.

It was a secret that only the two of you shared, a secret that had bonded you in a way nothing else ever could.

But as the night grew late and the party began to wind down, you found yourself looking around the room with a sense of melancholy.

You didn't want this to end, didn't want to go back to the reality of your life. You wanted to stay here, forever wrapped up in this world of passion and desire that you'd found with San.

But all good things must come to an end, and as the last guests stumbled out, you knew it was time to go. San leaned in, whispering in your ear, "Let me take you home." And with those words, he led you out of the party and into the night.

—

The silence in the car is so loud, it’s almost unbearable.

Was this just a one-night stand, or was it the start of you two starting something again?

You stole glances at him as he drove, his focus on the road firm.

San’s hands are gripping the wheel tighter than usual, knuckles faintly white against the leather. The only sound is the soft hum of the engine and your heartbeat thumping in your ears like it’s trying to remind you something just happened.

You sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed over your chest, staring straight ahead. Your mind’s reeling—replaying the way he looked at you just minutes ago, the way his breath hitched, the heat of his hands on your waist, the way you felt when he was inside you, the way you both crossed a line without saying a single word about it.

It’s quiet for a beat too long before you finally ask,

"Are we okay?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

San's gaze flicked to you briefly before returning to the road. "Okay?" He echoed, his tone low and gruff. "Yeah, we're more than okay." His hand reached out to squeeze your thigh reassuringly. "Tonight was... intense."

You swallowed hard, the heat from his touch searing through your skin. "Yeah," you managed to reply. "But, I mean, are we good? Like, after the party?"

He took a deep breath, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. "Look," he began, his voice earnest. "What happened between us tonight, it wasn't just about the party. It was about us, about what we've been building."

He then taps the steering wheel with his thumb, jaw tight. “I’m just—trying to figure out if that meant anything to you or if I’m insane for thinking it did.”

The car goes still again.

You swallow hard. “Of course it meant something.”

He turns toward you at a red light, the streetlamps casting shadows across his face. “Then why do you look like you want to disappear?”

You drop your gaze, fingers fiddling with the hem of your dress. “Because.. I’ve never done anything like that before, at a party, in a bathroom. It’s just... a lot to process, you know?”

He breathes in slowly, nods once. “I get it.”

A pause. His knuckles flex on the wheel again.

“But I’d be lying if I said I regret it.”

Your breath catches.

You stare at the road ahead. “I don’t regret it either.”

It’s quiet again, but this time it’s different. He exhales slowly, like he’s releasing something that’s been pressing down on him. His voice softens.

"But we can take it slow," he says, his voice soothing. "Whatever you're comfortable with."

You nod, feeling a weight lifted from your shoulders. "I just don't want things to get messed up again.”

San squeezes your thigh. "Neither do I, but I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."

There's a brief silence as he pulls up in front of your house and then he says.

“Can I walk you up?”

You think about it. About everything that’s happened. About what it could mean if you say yes.

You glance at him.

“Yeah. You can.”

And that’s enough for now.

—

After everything that happened that night — the chaos, the tension, the party, the quiet car ride home — you’re finally in your room. The moment your back hits the mattress, you groan into the pillow.

San’s standing near the door, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck like he doesn’t know if he should leave or sit on the floor or maybe just combust right there. You peek up at him through sleepy eyes.

“Are you gonna just stand there and watch me fall asleep?” you mumble, voice muffled by your comforter.

He gives a quiet laugh. “I was gonna leave. Let you get some rest.”

You shift, rolling onto your side to face him fully. “Noo… don’t leave yet.”

He pauses, lips parted, surprised at how small your voice sounded — like the night wore you down just as much as it wore him out. You give him a half-hearted pout, then reach a hand out toward him like a sleepy toddler begging for five more minutes.

“Just... stay a little.”

San hesitates only for a moment before crossing the room. He sits down at the edge of the bed, then lets out a soft sigh as you scoot closer to him, resting your head against his side.

“You’re really tired,” he says gently, brushing some hair from your face.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering closed. “But I feel better with you here.”

Your voice is so quiet it almost disappears into the room, but he hears it. Every word.

He shifts carefully, lying back on the bed next to you — not under the covers, just hovering close enough to keep you safe. He keeps one arm under his head, the other resting across your waist as your hand slides across his chest like it belongs there.

“Just for a little,” he murmurs.

But neither of you moves. Not for a long time.

Eventually, your breathing evens out and he watches your chest rise and fall slowly, your face soft and peaceful.

He swallows hard, like there’s something stuck in his throat — some emotion he isn’t ready to say out loud yet.

He leans down just a little and whispers against your hair:

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in a while, everything feels quiet.

Safe.

—-

The next thing you know, you’re jolted awake by the sun peeking through the curtains. You blink a few times, squinting in the light, and realize you’re still in your party dress — the same one that had been pushed up around your waist hours ago in the shower. Your cheek is pressed against something warm and hard. San’s chest.

You sit up slowly, the fabric of the dress sticking to your skin. He’s asleep, one hand on your hip, the other curled loosely around your back. His breathing is deep and even, his eyes closed.

You look down at his hand, the way his fingers curl around the fabric, and you wonder what the hell is going on.

Was that all real? Did you actually just have the best sex of your life in a crowded party bathroom and then come back here and fall asleep with him in your bed?

You take a deep breath and lean back against the headboard, watching him sleep.

The room is quiet except for the sound of his breathing and the distant chirping of birds outside. You can’t remember the last time you felt this alive.

But then, as you shift, trying to get comfortable, you wince. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s been stretched to its limit. You’re sore in places you didn’t even know existed. You touch your throat gently, the skin sensitive from where he was kissing you all over.

You’re sore, yes, but in a deliciously good way. It’s a reminder of the night before, of his hands on you, his mouth on you, his body inside you. You bite your lip, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

You groaned and rolled over, “Oh my god,” you mutter, barely above a whisper, blinking at the ceiling. “I’m sore.”

From beside you, you hear the soft rustle of sheets and a familiar sleepy grumble.

“Mm?” San’s voice is rough and low from sleep, the kind that scrapes at your skin in the best way. “You good?”

You nod, then shake your head, then nod again. “Yeah, I’m good. Just... sore.” You wince as you sit up, the fabric of your dress sticking to your skin.

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you gently. "It’s not my fault," he said, his voice low and filled with amusement. "You were like, 'harder, harder,' the entire time. I genuinely didn't know you had it in you."

The memory of your desperate pleas echoed in your mind, making you blush even more.

San's hand drifted down to your waist, his touch light but electric. "But seriously," he said, his smile fading into concern. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" You shook your head, the soreness feeling almost like a badge of honor.

"No, I'm fine," you assured him. "Just a little..." you groaned as you tried to move your legs to show that you were “fine.”

He winced at that, his expression turning serious.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his thumb stroking your skin in a soothing pattern. "I didn't mean to be so rough."

But you could see the excitement in his eyes, the thrill of knowing he'd been the one to leave you feeling this way.

"It's okay," you said, your voice still hoarse, "I–I liked it." And it was true. You had liked it, every single moment of it.

You liked the way he took control, the way he made you feel like you could take on the world. You liked the way he looked at you, like you were the only person who mattered.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I'll be more gentle next time," he promised, his voice filled with a dark promise that had you squirming with anticipation.

"But just remember, when you scream for more, you're the one who's going to be walking funny the next day."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from your chest. "You’re annoying," you said, snuggling closer to him.

And as you laid there, the warmth of his body surrounding you, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

You shifted a bit and felt the soreness again.. ��Ugh, I need a warm bath. And Advil.”

“I can get you both,” he offers, already starting to push the blanket off himself. “You stay. I’ll run the bath, bring the meds, and then you can keep pretending like you hate me.”

You flop back into the pillows dramatically. “Oh, I do hate you. But you’re kind of useful when I’m injured, so…”

He pauses at the edge of the bed, looking back at you with a small grin. “So I’m your personal nurse now?”

“More like my villain with occasional acts of kindness.”

He leans down, hands braced on either side of your face, eyes locked with yours. “You keep calling me the villain,” he murmurs, voice low. “But you’re the one who said, ‘don’t leave,’ remember?”

Your breath catches just a little, and your fingers curl into the sheets.

He doesn’t kiss you — not yet. He just brushes his nose against yours, close enough to feel it, then pulls away with a teasing smile.

“I’ll go run your bath now.”

You laugh, the sound a little shaky, and watch as he slides out of bed. The sight of him in the early morning light, shirtless and the muscles of his back and shoulders ripple as he moves.

And just like that, he’s gone.

—

The bath helped.

Kind of. You’re still moving like someone’s grandma, but at least you don’t want to cry every time you stand up. San made a smug comment about “taking care of you” and you threatened to drown him in your lavender body wash.

Now, your house smells like eggs, toast, and something vaguely cinnamon-y. Your kitchen isn’t big, but he somehow makes it feel lived-in, natural. He’s wearing sweatpants, your pink fuzzy socks (because he couldn’t find his own), and your “That’s Hot” Paris Hilton mug is in his hand like it’s always belonged there.

You hobble into the kitchen and lean against the counter.

He glances over his shoulder, smiling. “You alive?”

“Barely,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “What is that? It smells good.”

“French toast,” he says, proud. “And scrambled eggs. And one sad slice of avocado that I tried to make look fancy but... yeah. No promises.”

You blink. “You made me French toast?”

“I made us French toast,” he corrects, placing a plate down on the little table.

You both eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, your bodies still slightly buzzing from everything that happened last night. It’s not awkward. Just... charged. Like the air knows.

After breakfast, you curl up together on the couch, his arm around your shoulder, your cheek pressed to his chest. The TV plays some tv show in the background, but neither of you are really watching it.

Then he speaks.

“I really did have fun last night,” San says softly.

You look up at him, surprised. His eyes are already on you, gentle and unreadable.

“Yeah?” you murmur, teasing lightly. “Which part?”

He rolls his eyes with a small laugh, cheeks tinting a little pink.

“You know what part,” he murmurs.

You feel your heart thud a little harder in your chest.

“I liked it,” he continues, voice a little quieter now. “I missed us like that.”

You don’t say anything right away.

He looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry. Then, without warning, he leans in and kisses you.

It's a deep, possessive kiss that takes you by surprise, his tongue slipping into your mouth like he owns it.

You taste the sweetness of the syrup on his lips, and for a moment, you melt into him, your body responding to his touch.

But as he pulls away and starts kissing you again, a nagging discomfort starts to creep in.

You're not used to this level of affection in the morning light, especially after what happened the night before. You're not sure if you're ready for this, if you can handle the intensity of his desire.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice a low murmur against your skin as he kisses you all over, his hands roaming freely across your body. You feel a pang of guilt for not matching his enthusiasm.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him. "Nothing," you say.

He raises an eyebrow, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "That look on your face isn't nothing," he whispers, his voice thick with unspoken promises. "Tell me whats wrong.."

You nod, unable to lie. "Its nothing, really." Your voice is a barely-there whisper, a confession in the early morning light. "It's just... a lot."

San's gaze softens, his thumb still tracing circles on your cheek. "What's a lot?," he says gently.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "Everything," you admit. "Last night, the bathroom, the party, the... everything. It's just so much to take in."

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know," he says softly. "But we don't have to rush into anything, okay?"

"Then why does it feel like you are rushing this, San?" you say.

He sighs, his arms tightening around you slightly. "I'm not trying to," he says, his voice earnest. "But when I'm with you, I just want to... devour you. I can't help it."

You laugh, the sound a little forced. "That's a bit dramatic."

He smiles, leaning in to kiss you again. "But true," he murmurs. His hand slides up your thigh, under your oversized t-shirt, and your body responds immediately, heat pooling between your legs.

"San..." You say his name like a warning, but your voice is breathless.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Hmm?"

You bite your lip, "I just... I need a minute."

San pulls back, his hand still resting on your thigh. The room is silent for a moment, the only sound the distant hum of the TV.

You can see the uncertainty in his eyes, the hope warring with the fear of rejection.

He takes a deep breath and says, “I know this is sudden, and maybe it’s too soon, but I can’t ignore how I feel about you anymore.”

He shifts his weight, his hand still resting on your thigh, his thumb tracing little circles that make you squirm. “I know last night was intense, and maybe it scared you, but it just made me realize how much I want this. How much I want you.”

“San... I—”

You want to tell him that you feel the same, that you've been craving this connection since the moment you reconnected with him again, but the words stick in your throat.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I just... I need to know that you're not going to hurt me again," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "We broke up because you cheated, and I... I don't know if I can just ignore that."

"You think that's all I am? A cheater?" He spits out the words like they're venom. "Is that all you see when you look at me?"

You flinch, his tone cutting deeper than you expected. "No, I—"

"You really think that little of me?" He stops, whipping around to face you. "You think after everything we just shared that I'm going to do that to you again?"

You look at him, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "I don't know," you admit. "I just need some time to process."

San's chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths, his eyes searching yours for any hint of understanding. "Fine," he says, his voice tight. "Take your time."

He grabs his phone off the coffee table and walks out of the room, leaving you feeling small and vulnerable on the couch. The silence that follows is deafening.

After a few moments, you hear the muffled sound of the front door closing. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You knew this was a possibility, that your past with him would come back to haunt you, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

—

The next day, you find yourself in class, trying to focus on the professor's lecture. But your mind keeps drifting back to the party, to the feel of his hands on your body, and the way he looked at you when he said those words.

You can't help but feel a twinge of sadness when you realize he's not sitting next to you, not whispering sweet nothings in your ear to distract you from the boring slides.

You scan the room, searching for his huge form in the sea of students. When your eyes finally land on him, you notice he's sitting a few rows ahead, his back to you, surrounded by his friends.

The professor drones on about the finer points of quantum mechanics, but your mind is elsewhere.

You're aware of the weight of his silence, the unspoken tension that hangs between you like a dense fog.

Every time you shift in your seat, you expect to feel his eyes on you, but when you glance up, his gaze is firmly planted on the whiteboard, his expression unreadable.

You try to focus on the lecture, scribbling notes that make no sense, your hand shaking slightly. You feel bare and exposed without his usual banter to anchor you, the warmth of his leg pressed against yours.

Finally, you can't take it anymore. You gather your things, whispering an apology to the professor as you make your escape. Your heart pounds in your chest, your eyes searching for the familiar comfort of San's gaze. But he's not looking at you. He's staring straight ahead, his jaw set in a firm line.

You make your way to the restroom, feeling the weight of his eyes on your back like a tangible force. The coolness of the tiles under your feet is a stark contrast to the heat of the room you just left.

You lock the stall behind you, sliding down to the floor, your breaths coming in short gasps. You're not sure if you're more upset by the argument or by the sudden distance between you.

Once you compose yourself, you return to class, but the lecture might as well be in a foreign language. You're lost in thought, trying to piece together what happened, what you said, and what you could have done differently. You can't help but feel like you've ruined something that was just getting better.

After what feels like an eternity, the class ends. You take a deep breath and make your way to the door, avoiding eye contact with San as you leave.

"Hey," he calls after you, his voice tight with unspoken words. You stop, your hand hovering over the doorknob, your heart racing.

You turn around, and he's standing in the doorway, the light from the hall casting a halo around his frame. He looks at you, his eyes searching yours for an answer. "What's wrong?" he asks, his tone softer than before.

You take a shaky breath, your eyes filling with tears. "I don't know," you admit, your voice breaking. "I just... I don't know..."

San closes the distance between you, his hand reaching for yours. "What don't you know?"

You look down at your intertwined fingers, his warmth seeping into your cold skin. "I don't know if I can do this," you murmur. "You left me in the cold again, San."

His eyes search yours, a storm of emotions brewing. "You told me you needed space," he says, his voice a hoarse whisper that echoes in the empty room.

You nod, trying to hold back the tears. "I know, I just..." You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I miss you."

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. San's eyes widen, and he takes a step closer. "Miss me?"

You nod, tears spilling over your lashes. "I miss us," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "I miss feeling safe with you, feeling like I could trust you with everything.

I miss the way you used to look at me, like I was the only thing that mattered."

San's expression softens, his hand squeezing yours. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with regret. "I know I hurt you, but I've changed."

You sniffle, looking up at him. "Are you sure?"

San's eyes never leave yours. "I can't change the past," he says, his voice steady. "But I can promise you that I'll spend every day making up for it."

You bite your lip, the doubt still lingering. "How do I know you won't hurt me again?"

He steps closer, his thumb wiping away a tear that trails down your cheek. "You don't," he admits. "But I'll do everything in my power to prove to you that I've changed. That I'm not that person anymore."

You search his eyes, looking for any trace of the old San, the one who shattered your heart into a million pieces. But all you see is sincerity, raw and unfiltered. "I want to believe you," you whisper.

San nods, understanding the gravity of your words. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and steady. "I know you do," he says. "And I'll give you every reason to."

For a moment, you stand there, the air between you crackling with unresolved tension. Then, he pulls you into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around you so securely it feels like a cocoon. You melt into his warmth, your body fitting against his as if it were made to.

He whispers into your ear, "I'll show you, okay? I'll show you every day."

You nod, your heart hammering against his chest. This is the first step to rebuilding what was lost.

He pulls away slightly, cupping your face in his hands. His eyes are intense, searching your face for any doubt. "I'll be there for you," he says firmly. "No matter what."

You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin against your own.

"Okay," you murmur, the word a whispered promise.

He smiles, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Let's take it slow," he suggests, his thumb brushing away another tear. "We'll start over, build it up again."

You nod, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. "Okay," you murmur. "Let's try."

San's smile widens, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Good," he whispers, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He pulls you closer, holding you tightly, as if afraid to let go.

You both stand there for a moment, the silence of the empty classroom surrounding you like a blanket. Then, with a deep breath, you pull away, wiping your eyes. "I should probably go," you murmur.

"Yeah," he agrees, his thumb still lingering on your cheek. "But can I see you tonight?"

You nod, the corners of your mouth lifting slightly. "Yeah. Why not?"

San's smile turns genuine, the tension in the air dissipating like mist under the sun. "Good," he says, his thumb tracing a path along your jawline. "How about we do something... casual tonight?"

You nod, the weight of your decision still pressing on your chest. "Yeah," you murmur, thinking of a way to ease back into the comfort of your friendship. "How about a skincare sleepover?"

San chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "A what?"

"A skincare sleepover," you repeat, your voice a bit more steady. "We can hangout, do face masks, and just... be

San's smile softens, understanding the underlying meaning of your words. "Sounds perfect," he says, his thumb still caressing your cheek. "Just you and me."

You manage a small smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe, just maybe, this could work. Maybe you could have him back in your life without the fear of heartache.

The rest of the day is a blur of classes and half-hearted attempts at small talk with friends. Your mind keeps drifting back to the conversation with San, his promise to be there, his willingness to take things slow.

—-

When you finally get back to your house, you find yourself eagerly preparing for the skincare sleepover. You lay out an array of masks, scrubs, and creams on your bedroom floor, creating a makeshift spa setup. The sight of it brings a genuine smile to your face. It's simple, but it feels like a step in the right direction.

San arrives right on time, a bag of snacks in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. The gesture surprises you, a sweet reminder of the thoughtfulness that once drew you to him. He looks at the spread on your bathroom floor, a smirk playing on his lips. "You weren't kidding," he says, setting down the bag and the flowers.

"It's just... I wanted it to be nice," you explain, arranging the pillows and blankets on the floor.

"It's more than nice," he says, his eyes lingering on the flowers. "It's... sweet."

---

10 minutes later

You sat cross-legged on your bedroom floor. San sat behind you on a pillow, warily holding a pink headband.

“You expect me to wear this.”

You looked at him. “Yes.”

“Y/N, this has cat ears on it.”

You giggled. “You’ll look adorable.”

He narrowed his eyes but slipped it on anyway. “You better not take pictures.”

“No promises.”

You squirted cleanser into your hand and reached forward. “Okay, hold still.”

San leaned back, frowning. “Wait, wait, you’re not putting that on my perfectly smooth skin.”

“San—”

“I have elite skin. I don’t need—”

“Pleaaaaseee.” You crawled forward onto his lap, straddling him without thinking twice, pouting dramatically, hands on his chest. “You agreed to this. Just let me do it.”

He swallowed, hard. “Y/N—”

“Just a little. You’ll look so good. Trust me. Like glowing.”

He stared at you, trying to keep a straight face. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stubborn.”

He sighed, finally relenting. “Okay. Fine. But not too much.”

“Yay!” You clapped your hands and gently massaged the cleanser onto his cheeks. “See? Doesn’t that feel nice?”

He winced. “It’s cold. Oh my god, it’s so cold. I feel like I’m being baptized.”

You laughed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m literally shivering.”

After you wiped off the cleanser, you pulled out your favorite sheet mask and raised your brows. “Ready?”

He blinked. “What’s that?”

“Collagen + Vitamin C.”

“Are you trying to make me 16 again?”

“You’re gonna thank me in the morning.”

You pressed the mask onto his face, smoothing it down. He sat there stiffly, arms crossed.

“You look like a soggy tortilla,” you giggled.

“Glad to know I’m sexy,” he muttered under the mask.

Then you leaned in close, placing tiny cucumber slices over his eyes.

“Wait, wait—what are you doing now—Y/N—”

“Shh. It’s part of the experience.”

“I can’t see—”

You grabbed your phone and took a selfie, the flash lighting up the room. “Looks perfect for the Instagram.”

He grabbed your phone. “This is never seeing the light of day.”

“Or maybe it will be your profile picture?” You winked, trying to keep the teasing light.

He rolled his eyes. “If you want to scare off all my potential suitors, go ahead.”

You laughed, leaning into him. “I think you’re pretty irresistible, even with cucumbers on your face.”

San’s arms wrapped around you, his hands resting on your hips. “You’re so flirty.”

For a moment, the air grew thick with something unspoken. Your laughter faded into a soft smile. You could feel his breath against your neck, the warmth of his body.

“Thank you for this,” you murmured, your voice serious. “For giving us this night, for giving me a chance to trust again

San’s hands tightened slightly. “Thank you for giving me the chance to make it up to you,” he said, his voice equally soft.

You leaned back, looking into his eyes. They searched yours, looking for something. You didn’t know what it was, but you hoped he found it.

Then, he leaned in, the cucumbers falling off his face, and kissed you. It was gentle, almost, pure, but it held a world of promise in it. A promise of a future together, of a love that had survived the storm.

The kiss grew deeper, and you found yourself leaning into him, your arms wrapping around his neck, his hands moving up to cradle your face. The scent of the cucumbers mixed with his cologne, creating a strange but comforting scent that was all San.

When you finally pulled away, you both had masks on your faces, but the look in his eyes was clear. He wanted you, but he was going to wait, to prove himself to you. And maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself be loved by him again.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter, movies, and the occasional comedy of trying to get snacks without ruining your face masks.

It was the most relaxed you had felt in ages, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you could do this. You could have him back in your life without the fear of heartache.

—

The room had gone completely still. The kind of silence that only hits after midnight—when the air is thick with the weight of sleep, and voices instinctively lower, like speaking too loudly would disturb something sacred.

You were curled into San, your head rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. His hand was tucked beneath the fabric of your shirt, fingers splayed across your lower back.

He wasn’t asleep, though.

You could tell by the way he absentmindedly dragged his fingertips up and down your spine, pausing every now and then like he was thinking. Like there was something heavy in his mouth he wasn’t sure how to say.

“San?” you whispered into the dark.

“Mm?”

“Are you okay?”

He nodded slowly, cheek brushing the top of your head. “Yeah. Just thinkin’.”

You tilted your head up a little to look at him. His lashes fluttered, gaze unfocused, lips barely parted.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, quieter this time.

“Everything,” he said finally. “And nothing.”

You frowned. That didn’t sound good.

“What’s everything?”

He sighed. “This. Us. What it means.”

You swallowed, the lump in your throat suddenly thick. “And what does it mean?”

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling against yours. “I don’t know. I just know that I don’t want to mess it up again. I don’t want to lose you again.”

The words hit you like a soft punch to the gut. A gentle, painful reminder of the history between you two.

“You won’t,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. “How can you be so sure?”

You took a shaky inhale, your heart racing. “Because I’m here. And you’re here. And we’re...trying. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

He nodded, his thumb tracing a pattern on your back.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy, Y/N. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

The sincerity in his voice was like a warm blanket, wrapping around you and chasing away the cold.

You leaned in and kissed him softly, feeling his body relax against yours.

“I know,” you whispered. “And I am. Happy, I mean. With you here. Like this. It’s...it’s really nice.”

San’s smile was a warmth that spread through you, his eyes crinkling in the low light. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s perfect, actually.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. “Okay. That’s all I need to hear for now. We’ll figure out the rest together, okay?”

You nodded, feeling your eyes start to droop. The comfort of his arms, the safety of his embrace, was drifting you to sleep.

—

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks quietly unfolded into a month. Somewhere along the way, things with San began to feel like breathing again—natural, unforced.

What started as lingering glances and hesitant conversations turned into full, uninterrupted afternoons together.

You started spending more time at his place, and him at yours. There was no need for labels or heavy conversations about “what are we.”

It was just the two of you—falling back into each other, piece by piece, like muscle memory.

The skincare sleepovers had become a ritual now. A safe little corner of the weeknd where you’d sit on your bathroom floor, clay masks on, music humming softly in the background.

He always complained about how cold the under-eye patches felt, but he never once skipped them. “For the glow,” he’d say with a wink, and you’d laugh until your stomach hurt.

One of those nights, your mom came to visit again. Your dad couldn’t come because he was on a business trip.

Her voice lit up the space as she entered your apartment, arms already open for a hug. “I brought way too much food,” she announced dramatically, even though she always did.

She immediately noticed San’s shoes by the door.

“Oh,” she smiled, brows lifting. “He’s been here a lot lately.”

You tried to play it cool. “Yeah, he, uh… helps me carry the groceries sometimes.”

But of course, your mom was smarter than that. She just gave you that look—the one mothers give when they know everything without needing to ask.

Later that evening, she pulled you aside while San was washing dishes. “He really looks at you, you know?” she whispered, nudging you lightly. “Like he sees the whole world in you.”

You couldn’t respond at first. Because hearing someone else say it out loud—someone who didn’t even know the half of what you two had been through—made it real in a way you weren’t expecting.

You glanced toward the kitchen, where San was humming to himself, sleeves pushed up, your mom’s Tupperware stacked in a neat little tower next to him.

And for a fleeting moment, the chaos of the last few months faded away.

Everything had changed… but in the best way.

—

Saturday night

The front door’s already open when San knocks, and he hears your mom call from the kitchen.

“San? Come in!”

You come jogging down the stairs barefoot, hair still half-damp from the shower. “She’s making us clean,” you whisper, making a face.

Your mom pokes her head out from the kitchen. “She’s lying. I just asked for help setting up the backyard—figured you two might want to sit outside instead of hiding upstairs like vampires.”

The three of you step outside with iced lemonades in hand, the sun golden and soft.

Your mom's dragged out a bunch of old throw pillows for the patio and set up a little Bluetooth speaker that plays low jazz, and there's a plate of cut-up fruit already on the table.

“You two just sit, I’ll bring the rest of the food out,” your mom says with a wave of her hand.

San watches her with quiet admiration. “She’s amazing.”

“She raised me, so yeah,” you say, nudging him. “She's like… the calm in my storm.”

He glances at you and says softly, “You’re the storm?”

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Don’t act surprised.”

Later That Day: After Lunch

The three of you are sitting outside still, the table littered with empty plates, sun beginning to dip behind the trees. Your mom leans back in her chair and sighs. “You know, I wasn’t sure about you at first, San.”

He coughs awkwardly, sitting up straighter. “Oh…?”

She shrugs. “But I see the way she looks at you. How you talk to her. You’ve been gentle with her lately. I can see that. And if you're gonna be in her life again, I’m glad you’re choosing to show up as a better version of yourself.”

You’re quiet, eyes flicking over to him.

San swallows, genuinely moved. “Thank you. I’m… really trying.”

“I know,” she says. “Just don’t forget that trying means being consistent. Especially when things get messy.”

He nods solemnly. “I won’t.”

Later, after your mom’s gone inside and you’re left sitting in the dimming light, you lean your head on San’s shoulder.

“She’s never said anything like that to anyone before.”

San rests his head lightly on top of yours. “She believes in you.”

You pause. “And you?”

He exhales. “More than I ever have before.”

—

You’ve gone upstairs to grab something, leaving San alone in the kitchen with your mom. She’s washing a few dishes, the faucet running low and the hum of a late-night breeze moving through the screen door. It’s calm. Comfortable. Then she speaks, quietly:

“She loves you, you know.”

San looks up from his untouched glass of water, caught off guard. “…She does?”

Your mom glances over her shoulder, gives a soft smile. “I’ve known her her whole life. I know when something’s real. Even when she tries to pretend it’s not.”

San looks down at his hands, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger. “I’m trying not to mess it up this time. I don’t think I could take losing her again.”

She dries her hands and leans against the counter, watching him with quiet patience. “So what are you two now? Friends? More than that?”

Before San can answer, you come back downstairs holding your phone. “Okay, I finally found the photo of Rina in that ridiculous—”

You stop.

Your mom arches a brow. “Just wondering what you two are. Friends? Dating?”

You blink, heart skipping a beat. “We’re—”

And before you even register the intention behind your words, the truth just slips out.

“…Dating.”

San looks up at you slowly, surprised.

You freeze. “I mean—we didn’t really—um—”

But your mom just smiles. Not smug. Not judgmental. Just warm.

“It’s okay,” she says gently. “It’s good to be honest. At least with yourself.”

You glance over at San. He’s still looking at you with that open, careful expression—like he’s waiting to see if you’ll take it back.

But you don’t.

You sit down next to him and slide your hand over his, fingers intertwining naturally. Like they were always meant to fit there.

“Yeah,” you say, quieter this time. “We’re dating.”

And San smiles—wide and a little disbelieving—before ducking his head and letting out a small laugh of relief.

Your mom just exhales, softly. “Good. Now that we’ve all stopped pretending… who wants dessert?”

================================================

Two Days Later

It rained. A lot. Enough to cancel the plans you didn’t even really make.

So he came over.

You laid in your bed, Netflix low on the screen, the storm tapping lightly on your window. He laid behind you, arm loosely around your waist, tracing little circles on your side with his thumb.

“I could stay like this forever,” he murmured.

You smiled into your pillow. “You’re just saying that because it’s warm and you don’t wanna get up.”

“Also because I love you. That too.”

You turned to face him, cheeks warm. “You’re saying that again now?”

He shrugged. “I never stopped. Just… forgot how to show it.”

You tucked your head under his chin. “You’re showing it now.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Good.”

You both ended up sprawled on the couch, your mom walking in with a towel on her head, raising an eyebrow.

“Again?” she said, eyeing San’s shoes on the floor.

“Movie night,” you replied.

San waved. “Hi, Ms. Y/L/N.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. “Don’t be too loud.”

The movie had long since ended. The soft hum of the credits rolled in the background, blue light flickering over both of your faces.

You were curled into San’s chest on the couch, the blanket pulled up to your chin, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders. His fingers were stroking your arm without really thinking.

You could tell he was getting sleepy. You could feel it in the way his chest rose slower, the way his hand moved more absentmindedly.

Then, quietly, he said it.

“I should head out soon.”

You didn’t respond at first. You just pressed your face deeper into his hoodie, like if you stayed still enough, he wouldn’t leave.

He sighed, gently brushing your hair behind your ear. “Y/N…”

“Don’t go,” you murmured, voice muffled against him.

He smiled softly. “You know I have to. I can’t crash here again, your mom probably thinks I live here by now..”

“I know,” you pouted, finally looking up at him, your lips turned down and your brows scrunched. “I just… I don’t want you to go. I don’t know, I just—when you’re here, I feel better.”

San looked down at you for a second, and something in his expression softened completely.

“Y/N…” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. “I feel better when I’m here too. With you.”

Your hands tightened in the fabric of his hoodie, your eyes a little glassy. “I’m being clingy, huh.”

“No,” he said immediately. “You’re being honest. And maybe a little dramatic.” He smirked gently, then kissed your cheek. “But I like it.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your smile, wiping under your eye quickly before he could call you out. “You better not ditch me at school.”

He stood slowly, stretching a little. “Never. I’ll see you tomorrow. First period.”

You walked him to the door like always, but this time your steps were heavier. Your arms wrapped around yourself instinctively.

San turned back at the door, one hand already on the knob, and looked at you like he didn’t want to leave either.

Then, quietly, he said, “Come here.”

You stepped into him and he wrapped you up in the tightest hug, his hand on the back of your head, holding you like he knew you needed it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against your hair. “Just going home. I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”

You nodded into his chest, still holding onto him.

He pulled back just a little. “And if I don’t get at least two texts from you tonight, I’m showing up with a megaphone outside your window.”

You laughed, finally letting go.

“Go,” you said, nudging him with a small grin. “Before I make you stay and deal with my mom kicking your ass.”

He gave you one last kiss on the temple, eyes lingering on your face like he wanted to memorize it.

Then he was gone.

And you stood there in the quiet, already missing him, already waiting for tomorrow.

================================================

You were halfway to class when your phone buzzed in your pocket.

San: meet me in the 2nd floor girls’ bathroom. rn.

You stared at the message, blinking. You typed back fast.

You: ??? You: wtf?? that’s the GIRLS bathroom??

No reply. You groaned. You should’ve known he’d pull something like this. And you hated that your heart was racing with excitement.

You darted down the hallway, checking to make sure no one saw you as you slipped into the second-floor girls’ bathroom.

San was already in there, leaning casually against the sinks like he belonged. Hoodie up. Mischief in his eyes.

“SAN” you whisper-shrieked. “You cannot be in here. What if someone walks in?!”

“So what?” he smirked, pushing off the counter. “Nobody’s in here but you and me. I wanted to see you.”

You gave him a look. “You couldn’t wait ‘til lunch?!”

“No,” he said simply. “Come here.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist before you could protest and pulled you in, pressing a slow, warm kiss to your lips. You gasped into it, hands instinctively grabbing his hoodie.

“San—”

“Mm,” he hummed, ignoring you as he kissed you again, this one a little deeper, a little needier. His fingers were tracing circles on your lower back. “I missed you.”

You giggled breathlessly, breaking away just enough to talk. “Stop, seriously. I have to get back to class. I’m gonna be late—”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Can’t stop thinking about you.”

“San…” you tried, but your laugh betrayed you. “Please.”

He finally let you go, exhaling dramatically like it physically pained him. “Fine. Fine. Go learn about the mitochondria or whatever.”

You rolled your eyes. “Wrong class. That was last year.”

He grinned and turned to walk away—but then suddenly spun back around, grabbed your face gently, and kissed you again.

You made a noise of protest and clung to the front of his hoodie. “San—!”

“Just needed one more,” he whispered, smiling against your lips. “Okay. Now I’m done.”

He turned and strutted out of the bathroom like he hadn’t just committed a minor felony.

But the second he opened the door—

A girl from your math class stood there, frozen, clutching her lip gloss and staring wide-eyed.

“What the fuck?” she said, blinking at San, then at you behind him.

“Wrong bathroom,” San said with a crooked grin, throwing his hood up and running down the hallway like a criminal.

You yelped and dashed out after him, covering your face. “Oh my God, oh my God—”

San slowed down just enough to turn around and offer his arm. “Let me escort you to class.”

You smacked his arm but took it anyway, laughing and panting. “You are the worst.”

“And yet,” he said, dropping you off right outside your classroom, “you still can’t get enough of me.”

You looked up at him with flushed cheeks, heart still racing. “You’re not wrong.”

He winked. “See you after class, pretty girl.”

And just like that, he was gone — casually walking out like nothing had happened

—-

after school

“Are you coming over?” you asked San as you walked out of school together, your bag slung lazily over your shoulder, the sun still warm in the late afternoon.

“Nah,” he replied, stretching his arms behind his head, making his biceps flex on purpose. “I gotta hit the gym today.”

You groaned, dragging your feet like a child. “Ughhhh, why are you always working out? I swear, you don’t do anything else. Gym freak.”

He smirked, clearly amused. “Why don’t you come with me then? We’ll stop by your place, then mine, grab clothes, and go together.”

You blinked at him. “Hell. No. I am not working out with you. Your workouts are probably pure torture. I will literally die.”

“Oh no,” he grinned, walking backward in front of you. “You have to now. You said it. We're going.”

“I never said yes!”

“Yes you did, spiritually.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

“Sexy,” he winked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Masterpost Next

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janananarei · 11 months ago

Text

His Favorite Artist

Blind Gojo x Reader

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾ ༻✧༺ ≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

Genre: Fluff

CW: SFW, Fem! Reader

Note: Yayy, my second work! It's not as long as the first one, but I really just wanted to write fluff. Feel free to send any requests since I have no idea what to write next.

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾ ༻✧༺ ≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

Warm sunlight hits Satoru's skin as he navigates his way to the stairway. He had won his battle with Sukuna at the cost of his vision, he had to retire after and learn to live not being able to see anything. Luckily for him, his wife was there with him to help adjust to his new life. Living at the countryside, not needing to worry about any curses or curse users, and finally having the life he had always wanted.

Once he touched the familiar railings of the stairs, he slowly steps one foot down and follows the other. He takes his time, almost reaching the last step when suddenly his foot got stuck making him lose balance. A loud thud was heard, and you quickly stop whatever you were doing to check it out. There at the bottom of the stairs lays a groaning Satoru as he rubs his head.

"Satoru! Are you okay? Why didn't you call me?" You ask as you kneel beside him and check his head for any bruise. "Sorry, I thought you were busy and I didn't wanna disturb you." Satoru feels your soft hands grab his arm and pull him up, securing them around your shoulder. "Can we go outside? I've been cramped all day in our bedroom."

"Of course sweetheart. I've also baked a fresh batch of cookies that I'm sure you'd love." You lead him to the door and open it. Satoru feels the fresh breeze hit his face and he sighs in satisfaction, feeling the warm sunlight once more. You lead him to sit in a chair, and grab one of your own. Satoru feels at peace, only hearing the soft swaying of the trees and grass, no growling and groaning from curses to be heard. His arms only feeling the warm sun and the light breeze, clean from the blood of curses. And his eyes, not overwhelmed by information and cursed energies. Although, he was quite disappointed not being able to enjoy the view with you, only being able to see a blank canvas. He still feels the grief of losing his sight and not ever being able to enjoy seeing the world, looking at how grown his students are now, and appreciating your beauty. There is still a feeling of uselessness in his mind as he is no longer able to perform his duties and uphold the title of being the strongest.

"Satoru, do you want me to describe what we're looking at right now?" He feels your soft hands hold his and he smiles. "Of course darling, paint the world for me." He squeezes your hand.

"We're surrounded with trees and flowers of all sorts, giving color to the land. The sun is setting over a lake, painting the sky a beautiful orange hue, while the water reflects the beauty of the sun. In the distance, there is a flock of ducks resting by the shore. Our home is just right beside us, with a bird's nest lying on the roof. Everything is peaceful and quiet." As you further explain the scenery, Satoru imagines the world that you describe it to be. And he now remembers that so long as you are with him, his canvas would never be blank and devoid of life.

You feel him squeeze your hand, so you stop and look at him. You can see the wonder and softness in his eyes, as he continues to stare at the sunset. "What would I ever do without you." He spoke softly.

You smile and lean your head onto his shoulder. Silence taking over the atmosphere, as you both bask in the sunlight. At that moment, Satoru thinks that the world is beautiful.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff

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yanyandam · 5 months ago

Note

May I ask for baji hcs (general hcs and how he would act as a bf? Or just one of the two?)

Yayy thank you for requesting! Here are both! Hope you like that

PreTimeskip!Baji Keisuke Headcanons // Edward

GENERAL HCS

He owns a police showcase bike he stole, meaning it’s literally the same model cops use. One time, he was driving and accidentally got saluted by an old lady who thought he was undercover. Instead of correcting her, he saluted back and rode off dramatically.

During an important meeting, he got distracted by a stray cat outside, left the meeting mid-sentence, and spent the rest of the night feeding it his own lunch. TOMAN is used to this kind of behavior now.

One time, he forgot his glasses at home and refused to take a test because, in his words, "I’ll be an idiot without them." He miserably failed anyway. His mother had a breakdown again.

His teachers are terrified of him, except for one elderly Japanese teacher who once told him, "You remind me Yuko Natori, same temper..." Since then, he treats her like a goddess and helps her carry things. No one understands why.

Kazutora once jokingly said, "Man, I wish I had a PS2..." The next day, Baji showed up with one. When asked where he got it, he shrugged and said, "Va bene." (His friends still don’t know what that means, nor did he. He thought Italian sounded badass and mysterious.)

He keeps all his failing test papers (which represents 90% of the total number) hidden under his bed because he can’t bear to throw them away, but he also can’t show them to his mom. He even tried redoing a test at home and graded it himself, pretending he passed. His mom smiled a bit, pretending she didn’t notice the TERRIBLE grammatical mistakes in the ‘grading’.

If he sees his crush talking to another guy, he doesn’t get jealous normally. Instead, he tries to outdo the guy at the most random things.

He once saw a romcom and thought "Ah, I get it now." The next day, he tried to dramatically pin his crush against the wall, she got scared and, next day he was excluded for 2 days from school for harassment. He doesn't understand what fucked up

He once randomly whispered to the girl he had a crush on "I can name 30 animals." Nobody knows why he does this.

WITH A GIRLFRIEND

Since he believes glasses make him smart, he wears them on every date to look “intellectual.” It doesn’t work. He just looks confused and sometimes walks into glass walls.

He knows he’s bad at talking about feelings, so instead, he buys her stuff randomly, but the gifts are always unhinged. Once, he gave her a full bucket of apples because "You like fruit, right?"

He never says ‘I love you’ directly. Not because he doesn’t feel it, but because words are hard for him. Instead, he shows it in weird ways, like walking her home, driving her around the city with his bike, carrying her bag without asking, or beating up anyone who makes her sad.

He acts tough, but the first time she reached for his hand he completely malfunctioned.

One time, they were walking, and a kitten jumped on her lap. Baji immediately said, "That means you’re good. I approve of you." (???)

He’s bad at initiating affection, so he just stands near her until she gets the hint. If she hugs him first, he refuses to let go but will pretend he’s just “too lazy” to move.

#tokyo revengers #Baji #baji keisuke #keisuke baji #baji x reader #baji x you #baji headcanons #keisuke baji x reader #chifuyu matsuno #kazutora hanemiya

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leegyeoul · 2 days ago

Text

$ NOT FOR SALE $

sugar mommy!bada x sugar baby!reader AU

Where rich Bada Lee feels lonely and does everything to keep you by her side, but little did she know she found something money couldn’t buy, a blossoming love

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

warnings: smut, strap, fingering, nicknames, surprisingly soft love, sugar mommy with feelings but I don’t think that’s a warning

wk: 2,3k

a/n: hey guys gyeoul it’s back~~ sorry for taking a little long, but I got slightly nervous writing this one, my first request yayy🎉 and I am so so grateful to the dearest lovely person who requested this prompt, I had so much fun writing and really hope you enjoy it❣️

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Your life was pretty much normal to anyone who saw you around. A beautiful and very polite girl, studied in one of the best universities of the country, owned an apartment, used brand clothes but was incredibly humble and kind, people loved you and couldn’t help but notice how rich you were. Well, if only they knew the money came from the older woman who picked you up at college every night and called you “baby”.

Bada was the rich woman behind all your wealth, she paid for all your expenses, college, your dance and pilates classes, the apartment you live at, she made sure to buy you the best brand clothes and always got you expensive gifts, she loved to see your smile when you saw them.

Your relationship with her could be described with the words: warmth, passion and commitment. She gave you everything you needed and wanted, and you were loyal to her and did anything she asked you to. Bada was a very chill woman, she usually called you to romantic dinners on the three stars restaurants, or asked you to come over to her apartment and you two’d have the most passionate and sweet night ever, she was a very kind lover most of the times. There were moments she got stressed with work and would fuck you harder than she intended, but after she would always take great care of you with sweet kisses and gentle touches. She treasured you, because you were everything she got.

You loved your life, at first your relationship was pure business and casual hook ups, but at some point you just started to care about her deeply and feelings blossomed, and she also makes sure you know how important you’re to her life too. Bada developed a feeling of need and possessiveness over you, she wanted to keep you to herself and give you the world. The labels were never discussed besides the sugar mommy contract, but both of you could feel it in the actions, the way she kissed you so sweetly after a hard working day, held you close and whispered about how much she had missed you and needed you by her side.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“baby girl?” Bada’s voice echoed from your phone as soon as you picked up her call. Your cheeks blushed with the nickname and a dumb smile appeared on your lips.

“yes, Unnie?” You answer, holding the phone on your ear while closing the notebook with the free hand.

“are you done with your class? I am here to pick you up actually” Bada says and you lift your head surprised.

“really? but weren’t you going out on that high school reunion or something?” Your voice echoed softly inside Bada’s car while she had the call on speaker.

“I left earlier, it was a little… weird? I was never friends with any of them anyways, it got boring and I just… felt a little alone and left out… and I missed you”

Once Bada finishes speaking you stay quiet for a while, your heart beating faster than usual. She didn’t usually spoke that much and showed her emotions that easily, but you felt so glad she did.

“oh, our dear Unnie… I am coming, wait for me!” You quickly run out of the classroom towards the entrance gate, and easily find her black luxurious car parked in front of the building. You turn off the call and walk inside the car, smiling softly at her.

“here she is… my baby girl” Bada showed you a side smile and leaned to kiss your lips tenderly. You smiled and kissed her back, your hand holding her jacket gently.

“yes, I am here now” You say in a soft whisper once you separate, and Bada looks down at you with her dark eyes. She looked at your body and caressed your waist gently, humming in contentment, she was finally not alone anymore.

“come with me to my apartment tonight, hm? I miss your body, sweet girl” Bada whispers in her deep voice close to your ear, biting your earlobe gently and making a shiver run down your spine.

“yes, mommy, anything you want” Your voice came out soft and gentle, Bada looked at your face with her pupils wide. She was so in love with you.

“oh gosh, yes, keep calling me like that and I will make you scream it all night” Bada groans against your ear and squeeze your waist.

She was quick to turn the engine of the car on again and placed one hand on your thigh while driving with the other hand. The way to her penthouse was like torture, but you two arrived faster than normal days, Bada was fast and eager to have you in her arms.

In the elevator she was gripping your waist hard, holding you in front of her and kissing your neck from behind. Once you finally got inside the apartment she pressed you against the wall and kissed your lips, dominating.

“my sweet little girl, aren’t you the prettiest?” Bada whispers, against your lips, her giant hands roaming around your waist, hips and going down to your ass cheeks, gripping hard on the flesh.

She kissed down your neck, biting and sucking on the soft skin, getting lost in your taste. The moment she was the happiest was when she had you in her arms, when she could share a moment with you.

“gosh… say you’re mine, hm? say who you belong to, darling” Bada groans against your ear, her busy hands already undoing the buttons of your pants and pulling them down, gripping your ass cheeks now directly on your warm skin.

“h-hm… mommy, I am only yours” You say the words you knew she loved to hear, and the moan she let out showed how it satisfied her.*

“yes, my pretty little baby girl, only mine” Bada holds your face with one hand, admiring your blushing cheeks.

“so obedient for mommy, you should receive a reward…” She picks you up by the back of your thighs easily, pressing you against the wall while keeping her body glued to yours.

Bada kisses you again, this time a wet and slow kiss, full of passion, lust, desire, love.

“I want to make you feel good today, want to please you first” She looked into your eyes tenderly once you two separated, your arms around her shoulders keep your chest glued to hers.

With that she walks with you to her room, gentle pecks around your neck and cheeks and she places you gently on the bed. She ties her hair in a low bun, looking at you with a smirk before removing her shirt and pants, now she was just in her sports bra and boxers, her body so pretty in front of you. Bada was way taller and even in her slender frame she managed to look big, broad, her muscles from the short times she went to the gym shining under the dim light of the room, she was the prettiest woman you have ever seen.

“let me unwrap my cute present” She smirks and starts to undress you, removing your shirt since the pants stayed by the entrance floor, then your bra, she took her time, kissing your chest and sucking your nipples in her warm mouth, making you hum in contentment. Bada loved your sounds, it showed she was doing a good job on making you feel good, she loved the effect she had on you.

With gentle and soft hands she slowly removed your panties, caressing the soft skin of your legs as she did so. She kissed your skin, raising your leg to remove the last piece of clothing and placing your leg on her shoulder once she hovered over you slightly.

“look at her, just the prettiest girl… my sweet baby” Bada kept calling you nicknames that made you blush, yet made you feel good inside, warm in your chest. Nothing prepared you to the sensation of her slender cold finger caressing your heat, collecting the wet juices from your entrance to your clit and moving in slow circles.

“so wet already, kitty? that makes mommy so fucking happy” Bada smiles and holds your leg gently, kissing your skin when she inserted one finger. You let out a sigh, eyes closing out of satisfaction. The way she moved slowly was so delicious, but soon she added another one.

“tonight I need to fuck you in that way I know you love, so I have to prepare you” She explains, and a wave of heat rises on you in anticipation, you knew what was coming.

“that’s it, my lovely baby… wait for me here, okay?” She removes her fingers and caress your clit one last time before walking to her cabinet inside the closet, picking your favorite item, her strap.

Bada skillfully placed them around her hips, she was experienced at this, it was one of her favorite toys to use with you, since you got so drunk in pleasure when filled by it. She walked around the room with that long toy hanging, picking up the bottle of the lube and spreading the liquid down the toy with closed fist. She acted so natural like it was part of her, you moaned in anticipation.

“are you excited, sweetheart?” She smirks once your moan reaches her ear, walking back to the bed and standing beside it, one knee up on the mattress, she places your leg on her shoulder again.

“I will give you what you want if you say please” She looks down at you, a teasing smirk on her lips but her deep eyes held a mix of lust and love.

“p-please, mommy” You say in a small voice, your chest raising up and falling down faster than usual, Bada smiled sweetly at you.

“fuck, I can’t deny you anything… that’s a problem, it shouldn’t be this way” Bada speaks in that soft tone, like she was talking to herself. Her gaze was down to the toy, while she guided it slowly to your heat, running the tip against the entrance towards your clit.

“you’re so fucking wet I probably didn’t need the lube” She mutters under her breath but before you can say anything she is entering your gummy walls, your head fell back on the bed and soft moans escaped your lips.

“hm… gosh, you like this, darling?” Bada groans, focused on pushing the whole thing in, slowly to make you get used to it.

She took one of your hands, intertwining your fingers while she held it beside your head, looking at your face with those dazed eyes.

“ready, my love?” She asks in a whisper, gentle, and you nod weakly, small moans coming out of your red lips once she started to move.

One thing about Bada was her amazing work with her hips, she was amazing, skilled and strong, she knew exactly how to roll her hips to reach the best spots that made your eyes roll back and toes curl. She kept moving slowly at first, gripping your thigh while admiring your face of pleasure.

“hm… how does it feel, my sweet girl?” Bada says in a broke voice, too focused on moving the toy inside you deep and slow.

“g-good, feels so good” You’re fast to answer, holding her hand tightly while spreading your legs wide.

“I will make you feel even better” Bada moved you up a little and got on her knees in the bad, now hovering over you and placing the toy back again, fastening her moves. She rolled her hips with slow thrusts in the middle of the fast ones, her pace so deliciously fast it made you feel on the clouds.

Bada bit her lip down, focused on thrusting into you, the sensation of the base of the toy rubbing on her clit made her let out some deep groaned moans.

“gosh… you’re so beautiful, and only mine… She started to mumble, her breath getting a little heavy. Your soft moans echoed on the room, until the sound of skin slapping surpassed it. Her movements got faster and harder, making your moans whinier.

“I love your sounds…” She whispered against your ear, letting go of your hand to start rubbing on your clit. The action made your back arch from the bed, a louder moan coming out, that’s exactly what she wanted. With quick circling movements now she made you feel closer to exploding, the familiar heat raising on your lower belly.

“close?” Bada asks briefly, noticing by the tone of your moans that got whinier. You nod fast with your head, gripping her shoulders.

“come on my strap, baby” She groans and removes her hand from your sensitive bud, intertwining her hand with yours again and leaning closer, positioning herself to go even faster with her hips.

It took only some more seconds, your voice increasing until your legs closed around her, back arching and her name coming loudly from your mouth. She kept thrusting slowly while you trembled against her, making you ride your high, she was feeling extremely pleased to see you like this under her, glowing.

Your body fell back on the bed, weak from the intense orgasm, Bada rolled her hips one last time and removed the strap, leaning on top of you and caressing your hair gently.

“you did so well…” Bada whispers softly to you, her gentle voice calming you down.

As an impulsive reaction, you hugged her shoulders, pulling her closer tightly against you. It surprised her at first, but soon she closed her eyes and buried her face on your neck, breathing in your sweet delicious scent. On moments like this, at silence but the actions spoke volumes, Bada knew she had the right one in her arms, and she would do anything to keep you by her side.

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee scenarios #bada lee smut #bada lee x reader #lgbtqia #wlw #street woman fighter 2

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kisses4tom · 1 year ago

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Sooo, since we got Uncle Billy do we now get GirlDad!Tom ?? I’ve looked high and low for a Tom X Reader family story😂😭 your writing is amazing <3

ᡣ𐭩 DADDY TOM

───────────────

YAYY FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTED THIS!! 😭 I've been dying to write something like this since I have already made an uncle tommy hc! and thank you so much ml 💕

I think we can ALL collectively agree that Tom would be the BEST girl dad, right? 🌚 so the baby will be a little girl!

also I'm gonna make this a teen pregnancy (18), so from the very start up til now!

───────────────

when he finds out he would probably freeze for a moment before finally reacting (gotta soak it in yk)

he would be happy but shocked and confused at the same time

scared not to be present enough because of tour and the band

he would always kiss and touch your stomach

he'd cry when hearing the baby's heartbeat to the doctor 🥹🫶🏻

"I want the baby to be healthy, but if I had to guess I think it's a boy" (he 100% wants a girl)

idk I feel like he would call the baby "kleine Prinzessin" (little princess) or "kleiner Soldat" (little soldier) !!

when you go into labor he tries to keep his cool but deep down he's in full panic mode

the first time he met/held her it was like love at first sight for him even if he didn't quite know how to act since he never really had any past experiences with babies

he's very careful and gentle with her

always holding her

he would attack her with tickles to hear her little laugh

kiss attacks also

playing with her all the time

he wouldn't essentially spoil her (that's uncle Billy's job 😉) but he definitely gets her most things because he can't say no to that little face!

likes holding and showing her around: "look who's that in the mirror? it's you!"

definitely hiding her from the media

yet he LOVES talking about her in interviews!

though very very VERY rarely he would bring her out on stage and hold her like mf simba when she was about 1/2

his heart is always full whenever she's around

he would kneel down to talk to her‼️😩

always pushing her stroller or carrying her on his shoulders

don't ask me why but he'd get into play fights with her at the dinner table 😭 (especially when she's still learning to talk so she's speaking gibberish 😭)

he loves to take her baths and put fun toys in the tub

finds her extremely adorable in everything she wears

he'd give her his yellow dog plushie‼️😭 currently sobbing

I feel like he would try his best to let the baby's first word be "papa" 😭

when she's older he would start being more himself (so talk about things freely and make dirty jokes all the time)

he's not a regular dad, he's a cool dad! 😏 (please get the reference 😭)

he'd give her the talk 🫢🐝

he would pick her up in weird ways and make her laugh (like upside down etc lmfao 💀)

would let her do his hair but not his make-up

like I said in my uncle Tommy hc, i feel like he would love to play with the toy kitchen for some reason idk 💀

he's the overprotective girl dad FOR SURE (AND ITS THE HOTTEST AND CUTEST THING IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE)

he'd go down the slide with her 😭

at lunch/dinner he would always sit next to her

looooves when she's at their concerts and would ask Bill to dedicate her a song (especially her favorite)

he'd definitely write her a song too

he would make her try to eat a lemon 😭🍋

it's important to him that she has a good bond with her uncle Bill and the boys too! (uncle Georg and uncle Gustav 🥹)

"Y/n she looks more like me than you, gotta be honest"

he would give her what he didn't have growing up (if you read Bill's book, like I have, you'll know)

he wouldn't let anybody hurt or say anything wrong about her

hype man fr

high-key a very chill and permissive dad

he would make sure she knows her worth and to always be herself, without listening to what others say

always saying that she's the better copy of him

since he had her young, people (maybe even teachers at parent teacher conferences) mistake him for her brother and it's needless to say that he's very flattered while his daughter is just like 😐

they have a great bond

LITTLE FUN FACT‼️ Tom said in his podcast that if he ever has a daughter then his dream is to name her Nala like in the lion king movie 🤭😭 crying rivers rn part 2

your daughter tags along on tours, especially because it's very important for Tom and she loves it (idk if I already said this but oh well lmfaoo)

I have a feeling almost all her friends have a crush on Tom (i know i would 😋)

Tom is such a basic dad istg, he does bbq every sunday

if y'all ever become parents a second time then he would definitely have a happier reaction than the first one, yet he would be scared to take care of two little creatures~

his fans always ask about her during meet and greets and give her little presents, which he appreciates a lot

your daughter is pretty much popular in the entire fanbase you guys have and is considered a "lucky charm" from the band

Tom would give her the longest and most comforting hugs known to mankind

he'd make her a memory book with Bill 😭

and he'd give her some old goodies of his!

like some of his old clothes, hats, glasses etc..

overall he's the best dad and UGHHFHSJENF I cry just thinking about him not having any biological children :(

i hope you enjoyed this !! 💕 (also i apologize for any spelling mistakes but your girl over here is too lazy to re-read 🤪 love y'aaaallll)

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anyaa2s · 8 months ago

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࣪˖ ִֶָ ☾ introducing. . . SOULMATE!MATT && BLUEBERRY MUFFIN!READER

[ 📻 ] soulmate - mac miller

0:47 ───|────── 4:32

‧₊ 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 .ᐟ

☾ light blue linen by them & i. . . baby blue. loves animals. introvert. forget-me-nots. good listener. eeyore. fresh laundry. remembers little details. late-night whispers. legos. nature walks. always keeps a journal in hand. washed-out jeans. handwritten letters. shy smiles. acts of service. herbal tea & hot cocoa. jellycats. rainy days. empathy. temple kisses.

‧₊ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 .ᐟ

☾ give you my lovin by mazzy star. . . blueberries. animals shelter. bookworm. soft spoken. lazy mornings. wired headphones. too nice to say no. warm quilts. crochet. overthinks texts. trinket collector. quality time. awkward waves. cinammon candles. lingering touches. milk and honey scent. brown messy waves. antique stores & coffee dates. eye contact.

nya's messages ✉️ : first writing yayy! inbox and requests open for this au! posting more about it soon :) Also a big kiss to my beloved supporter @shadowthesim for being the sweetest little pea ever, ilyy.

꩜ ١٥٧٤, nya

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i-yap · 1 year ago

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So I was reading ur dick Grayson x reader thoughts and it gave me an idea.. what if reader has dreamed of their wedding their entire life. Like it’s all they ever wanted. But then Dick gets called in for a mission and doesn’t even tell her and just leaves her standing there. I mean obviously she’s like pissed and stuff but like I just want to see how you think dick would react and I think it would take her a bit to forgive him if she ever does.

Dick x y/n- missed wedding

Honesty I think that the whole ditching without informing was early in the relationship or for events he knows he can make up for. You also get used to it with time understanding the work he does is important and that you'll always be the most important thing in his life no matter what.

BUT- if some big crisis does happen and dick has no way of getting out of it..

You are of course heartbroken, it is your wedding and the groom missing. what will you tell your family? are you not important to him? is this even a good idea? will he continue to prioritize hero work over you ? what if you were going into labour? what happens if you have kids? are you really cut out for this heroes wife work??

the wedding nerves, the shock and the embarrassment is a potent mixture . Once you calm down you do more logically appraise the situation.

I think Dick will do the biggest gesture ever , something private but sweet. he will take all your hitting crying and screaming with patience then sit you down and explain that if he hadn't left - you guys may not have had a honeymoon. He plans the whole wedding to perfection to be held by the end of the week( alfred helped)

Dick genuienly would try his hardest to not ditch you on your wedding. if this was really the last option and no other super hero was available and the whole world was about to end..i think you can excuse him this one time . after all you did marry an amazing, kind, heroic guy who everyone needs. just don't forget he needs you the most and he will never do anything to jeopardize what you guys have. he will never prioritize something over you .

(my first request yayy)

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xo-zozo · 3 months ago

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savannah grayson headcannons •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

a/n: omg would you look at that i'm posting again and it's a long one this time!! i actually love savannah and i've never made headcannons for her so yayy hope you enjoy it! if anyone has any requests don't be afraid to send them in!

tags : @your-mommy-ems @arqbella @reminiscentreader @x-liv25-jamieswife @inmyheaddd

@alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @annamatix @lyrakanefanatic

@123letsgobestie @hathorneheiress @midiosaamor @saythewordheiress

when she was in high school she was the girl's basketball team captain and you better know she worked HARD for that title

she also participated in a bunch of other sports while she was in school and she was good at most of them but basketball was still her favorite

i think that she would be the kind of girl to love a good slick back

the scariest rbf you've ever seen

between her and gigi she's the one who drives the most because she doesn't trust gigi to drive without crashing the car

in high school she would take gigi to trader joes like at least once a week

she has like a whole wall in her room of all of her basketball achievements as well as all her academic ones like okay multitasker

her and gigi did some kind of modeling together when they were younger

she literally has to refrain from punching jameson and xander everyday for giving gigi coffee

before she found out about the whole avery thing and got mad at her and stuff she actually liked her a lot even if she wouldn't admit it

she really likes those really complicated and excessive yogurt bowls with granola and fruit on top of it and would have it every morning for like a year straight

i think that her and gigi would have really small meaningful matching tattoos

every time gigi even had an interest in a guy she would be the one to have to "meet them first" and approve of them

even though she's an athlete and she spends a lot of her time doing that, the time spent off of the court is in dressier and very coordinated outfits

she always gets annoyed when people tell her and grayson how alike they are because she "doesn't see it"

she's a night owl so sometimes she'll be up until four in the morning without getting tired throughout the day but it's a bad idea to ever talk to he before eight am

i think this is also one of the ways shes very different from gigi who is a big morning person

whenever she gets ready she blasts really loud music (i feel like this could either be classical or rap and no in between)

even though he's like the complete opposite of her, she actually really likes xander and thinks that he's really similar to gigi

NOTHING ever gets by her, she's a very observant person

she randomly decides to do like crazy stuff like go skydiving and gigi is always very supportive but will not join

okay that's it for today guys yayy. anyway, writing this made me so excited to see how the whole thing with her like hating avery is going to play out because i hope that it's a big part of the next book because i think it's gonna be so interesting! comment if you have anything to say, thank you for reading!

my headcannons masterlist

#jennifer lynn barnes #savannah grayson #the grandest game #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #nash hawthorne #gigi grayson #jameson hawthorne

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cat3ch1sm · 1 year ago

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💚~ hi!! this is my first fic in so long, im so sorry for disappearing for almost two months ... idk I've been at a loss for motivation for a while. happy new years i guess😭. but it's a story based off of @a-hazbin-reader recent headcanons about alastor (first hazbin hotel writing!! exciting !!) i happened to come across it and immediately saw a fic idea finally. all credits to them and the person who requested the original writing (hope they see this too lololol) !!! also yes my anime writings will also return so yayy im officially back!!

heads up this is super long it's like 15 pages cause ya girl got a little carried away 😅 i hope you all enjoy and reqs are open for all!

🌲❦(๑˙❥˙๑)~ mentions of violence , abuse, bit of blood, alcohol, language, lewd language a little bit at the start, fem!reader

alastor x fem!reader

"Angel. Are you able to draw absolutely anything else?"

The aforementioned spider demon stared straight at Charlie with his brow arched and a shit-eating smirk on his lips. Beside his face he haughtily held up a sheet of paper with one of four hands, a drawing depicting nothing other than a giant penis.

"Nope." He popped the "p."

The hotel residents and employees, including Angel, Husk, Vaggie, Nifty, you, and Alastor were doing Charlie's usual scheduled feel-good activity. The devil's daughter had given out paper and pencils, gathered everyone in a circle and told everyone to draw something that made them happy. And of course Angel Dust, lewd as always, had spent a frankly concerning amount of time drawing the member currently on display on his paper.

Everyone just stared at the drawing in silence. Examining it while Angel continued to hold it up with not an ounce of shame on his face.

"Why is it... anatomically correct?" you finally questioned, tilting your head and squinting at the piece.

Vaggie, sitting beside her girlfriend, let out an exasperated groan, looking from the drawing to Angel with undisguised revulsion. "Angel Dust. First you drew pills, then you drew a liquor bottle, and for the last three goddamn turns we've given you, you've drawn a dick. Come on. Are you even trying-"

"Whadd'ya mean?" Angel asked innocently. "Charlie said to draw somethin' that makes me happy. Dicks make me happy. And as a worker here, you shouldn't be judgin' me," the porn star added smugly, making Vaggie let out an impatient growl.

Business as usual in the Hazbin Hotel.

"Well, I mean, you can't really say he didn't try," Husk deadpanned in a gravelly voice. "I mean, look at the vein-"

Ding dong!

"Oh, wow, hey, someone's at the door!" You'd never seen anyone move as fast as Charlie in that moment, and Vaggie was in close pursuit. In a split second, Nifty's tiny frame was flying after them both.

"Someone's at the door!" Nifty repeated in a high-pitched voice.

"Right. While they're distracted, I need a damn dick- fuck. Drink," Husk snapped, rising from his place on the floor. Angel immediately started laughing while Husk wasted no time lighting into him. "Shut up. You and your fucking anatomically correct dick got into my head," you could hear Husk snarl while Angel's taunting laughs never ceased as they headed off to the bar.

With those two gone, it was just you sitting in the circle, blinking. "Right," you murmured, standing up and dusting yourself off.

"Well, my dear? What did you draw?" came the oh-so-familiar drone of the Radio Demon's voice from the corner of the room. You couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips at the sound of it, and glanced up to see Alastor standing with his trusty mic stand, beckoning you to come closer. Of course, you obliged.

You scoffed a little, smile turned slightly sarcastic. "Well... I was going to draw you, but Angel suddenly became the Picasso of Penises and I didn't get around to it."

Alastor laughed good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around your waist and planting a gentle kiss on your head. "Ah, always the sentimental one, aren't you, my dear? Well, no matter. It's the thought that counts."

Your smile turned genuine again at his gesture and Alastor noticed. "There's that smile, sweetheart. Now, if you'd just keep it on your face at all times without fail, we could be quite the formidable pair."

You kissed your teeth with mock exasperation and lightly shoved Alastor away. "Oh, here you go again. And I thought we were having a moment. Alastor, my face just cannot stay like yours for that long-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Charlie came rushing back into the room, her sudden entrance startling you a little. She made her way up to you and Alastor. "Hey, um, Y/N? There's a woman at the door who says she's looking for you. She seems really upset."

Your face wrinkled in confusion. Someone looking for you? You weren't friends with anyone really outside the Hotel and those affiliated with it, so you had no clue who would be searching for you. You glanced at Charlie with a "What's going on?" look and with some reluctance pulled away from your boyfriend's grip to follow her.

As you neared the lobby, you heard a distressed-sounding voice in the door, and confusion growing you walked a little faster to the entrance. But before you could even register who the visitor was, she'd thrown her arms around you, fingernails digging painfully into your skin. But the stench of her familiar perfume wafting unwelcomed into your nose, into your mouth, smothering you and strangling you let you know the identity of this woman without even having to see her face.

You instantly stiffened, limbs suddenly like metal rods, not at all softening into her embrace. Your eyes went wide and you could feel your pulse speeding up.

"Mother?"

"My love! Oh, my precious girl!" she cried, pulling out of that suffocating hug for a moment to cup your cheeks in her cold hands, hands that no matter how gently they touched you their touch would always sting. She peered into your eyes with watery ones of her own, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I missed you so, my dear. This is where you've been hiding? I was so dreadfully worried!" Her eyes, always scrutinizing, ran up and down your figure in the way that made you want to tear the flesh from your bones.

"Oh, and I was worried you were starving somewhere. You were such a frail, skinny thing before on Earth. It's a great relief to see you've put some weight on your bones."

And the first stone was thrown.

"Mother." It was the only word you could seem to utter, fighting the urge to throw up, bile collecting in your throat. Her voice was like a slap to the face, and it was only your mother's grip that kept you from actually staggering backward. And how the others were just staring, awed, at the scene, Charlie's eyes sparkling with tears, Vaggie with a hand on her shoulder and a knowing smile, Angel and Husk watching contentedly from a distance, and Nifty clinging to Alastor who was smiling as usual. God, if you didn't vomit right fucking now, you'd be surprised. But you knew what they all saw in their clouded vision- a heartfelt reunion between mother and daughter. But really? It more closely resembled a predator at last capturing its prey.

You really couldn't hear what she was saying over the pounding in your head, but somehow you were in her arms again, and she was fawning and cooing over you like you were a child, showering you with kisses that burned like molten iron and rocking you back and forth. Always she loved to put on a show, loved being the center of attention.

It made you sick.

You managed to come out of your stupor long enough to shove your wailing mother away, unfazed by her crocodile tears. It was like waking up from a haze. She stumbled back slightly, and you backed away, your entire demeanor hardening. Your tone was flat when you spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

You apparently weren't doing that clean a job of masking your emotions, because the venom in your voice caught even you off guard. Your mother looked hurt- that act wasn't new to you, either- and your friends and partner surrounding you shot you disapproving and mildly disgusted looks that clearly wondered why you were being so cold to your own mother. You dropped your eyes to avoid the accusing stares, unable to slow your breathing and fighting the desire to lash out. Charlie looked bewildered and hurt, Angel Dust arched a brow, Husk appeared disapproving and Vaggie’s venomous expression said everything she wanted it to. How dare they look at you like you were the bad guy without knowing shit! She couldn't care less if you lived or died. She was here because she wanted something, and nothing more. Perhaps she heard about your role in the extermination of the Extermination and wanted a piece of the popularity you'd recently found yourself gaining. Or she came because she was probably destitute, the frivolous bitch, and wanted to suck up to either you or the powerful people you were now associated with. Whatever it was, you didn't care. You wanted her gone.

But it was clear she had no intention of leaving.

"All this time, and not one visit. And she never calls," your mother moaned in anguish, now addressing her new audience. "Perhaps I wouldn't have to track you down like a bloodhound if you would just come see your poor mother every once in a while." Her voice was overflowing with hurt and heartbreak you just could feel wasn't genuine. Before you knew it, she had broken down into sobs again, and you could only stand there stiffly, rage boiling, while the always empathetic Charlie moved to comfort the woman, rubbing her back soothingly while she sent Nifty off to get her tissues for her tears. The dirty look Vaggie shot you- "How cruel of you to do this to your innocent mother,” it said- sent heat rushing straight to your chest. Jesus fucking Christ, how could they fall for this shit? Your stomach twisted again, and this time you actually did nearly puke, suppressing a dry heave.

You did not pay any mind to your mother's display- you refused to give her the satisfaction. You turned in the opposite direction, arms folded, nails digging into your skin hard. You felt nothing seeing her cry but bitterness and icy detachment.

"I don't want to see you-"

"Well, now- who do we have here?"

Alastor appeared from the shadows with his sharp-toothed grin, glancing at you first and then your weeping mother. Before you could stifle it, a rush of hope surged through you- if anybody could get this infernal woman to leave, it would be Alastor. You turned towards him, hoping he would see how distressed you were- he was typically fairly perceptive when it came to you and your feelings. But alas, your mother caught his attention first, peering up at the Radio Demon standing over her with teary eyes and wet cheeks, a piteous expression on her face.

"The Radio Demon? Oh, well, a being like you mustn't worry about who I am. I'm just- a poor mother come to visit her daughter. But she... doesn't seem to want to see me." She sighed in a melancholy manner and slowly unburied her face from the tissue she'd been holding. "I suppose I will simply see myself out."

"Oh, nonsense. Y/N's mother, are you? I absolutely cannot allow you to remain on the streets. I insist that you stay." Alastor extended a hand out to your mother, his maniacal smile gone suspiciously gentle. It was disgustingly familiar; it was the smile he reserved normally just for you. "As... abrasive as your daughter may seem at the moment"- you felt him cast a look over at your back turned to him- "I'm sure she wouldn't want you suffering like this. Please, you're welcome to remain here."

You wanted to cry when he said this- could he really not see who this woman was? Did he really think you were just being testy? And when your mother took his hand and held it for much too long, you could take it no longer. And as everyone crowded your mother, showering her with welcomes and greetings and kindness, you pushed past everybody and walked straight out of the hotel doors, the last thing you saw being the tauntingly smug smirk on your mother's face before you slammed the doors behind you.

When you returned to the hotel, drunk, night had fallen. You hadn't seen any of your hotel mates since you'd left, and as far as you knew nobody went after you after your abrupt exit. Who the hell cared about that now, though? You'd talk to them about your deranged mother when you got inside, without her presence. Perhaps Alastor had just been being nice when he told her she could stay, and they hadn't actually been blind to why you were acting the way you were. Maybe they were just being supportive of a guest when they saw you acting out of the ordinary, knowing you usually were never snappy and stony, and still took her side. Maybe so.

You wished you hadn't had so much to drink.The pounding in your head was worse than when your mother had shown up earlier and your eyelids felt heavy. You had tripped a minimum of ten times on the way back and almost let two thugs take you in their car with them. You hated being drunk, but your mother you hated more.

With unsteady hands you pushed open the doors of the Hazbin Hotel, vision blurring a little. You weren't amazing with alcohol, and again, being drunk wasn't your favorite thing. But the moment you entered, you realized you weren't nearly drunk enough.

In the lobby sat your boyfriend, Alastor, enjoying a cup of tea with none other than your mother. The two were laughing together, which incensed you enough, but what made you wish you'd just blacked out at that bar was when you caught sight of your mother's hand on top of Alastor's as they shared a laugh over God knows what.

It didn't take long for the two to notice you in the doorway, a turbulent, unreadable expression on your face, standing as still as a statue as you took in the scene. Your mother turned to you and smiled, waving the hand with the cup of tea in it.

"Why, darling, we hadn't realized you left! Alastor is quite a charming gentleman. We were just having a moment." She slipped her hand from on top of his with a slightly mischievous smile.

Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing. You had no fucking clue how, but somehow your mother had discovered that Alastor and you were an item. She wasn't sitting here with anyone else but Alastor, drinking tea with him, laughing with him, holding his hand. And she was wearing makeup she hadn’t had on when she’d first come in the hotel- red painted on her lips, blush dotted on her cheeks and glitter on her eyelids in a display clearly meant to make an impression on Alastor and Alastor alone. It wouldn’t be the first time she'd gone after one of your partners, but it angered you no less- it was like the woman wanted to take your place somehow.

Alastor turned to you as well with a smile, but when he saw the look in your eyes, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. However, he made no comment at your slightly disheveled appearance and picked up his expression once more.

“Why, hello, my dear. Your lovely mother was just telling me about her life before you,” Alastor enthused. “A lively woman she was! I’ve heard story after exciting story. Quite a wild one, indeed- rather unlike you, sweetheart.”

You gave Alastor what could only be described as what is called ‘the thousand-yard stare,’ expression flat, not knowing really what to say to that. Despite the fact that you were in a bit of a daze still, either from the alcohol or the fact that your mother was on a date with your boyfriend, the haughty, self-superior expression on your mother’s face was not lost on you. Nor were the cow eyes she was giving him, or how when Alastor reached for the teapot to refill his cup her hand was conveniently already on the dish, lingering beneath his for what felt like hours.

She turned to Alastor, looking up at him with that sickly sweet, beaming grin of hers that she always plastered on her face when she was really about to lay it on. “I’m still wild if you ever care to find out,” she purred, batting her lashes at Alastor with an unmistakable air of seduction.

Before you could even register it, you heard yourself saying, “Get out.”

Both your mother and Alastor turned to face you, your mother’s face having dropped and Alastor’s eyes piercing into yours.

“What?” your mother asked, looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. You truly saw red for a moment, knowing damn well those tears were as false as Angel’s lashes, and the twitching in your muscles to just lash out was almost painfully difficult to stifle. Alastor’s smile wavered a little as his eyes darted from you to your blubbering mother, who had already started her shit.

You advanced forward, your stride making your mother jump and Alastor stand, and without hesitation tore her hand from Alastor’s, yanking her arm with force that momentarily startled even you. She was pulled from her chair and forced to stand up.

Her voice full of anguish, she pleaded, “Baby girl, what did I do wrong?” However, unmoved by her over-the-top performance, you’d already started dragging her out, not bothering to respond to her or explain why you were throwing her out. She already knew; you could see past the tears and wails and her struggles to pull away from you. Fueled by fury, distress and the afterbuzz of the alcohol, you hauled your protesting mother out of the hotel, pitilessly leaving her outside in the dark, and forcefully slammed the doors behind her. There were muffled screams of your name coming from the other side, her fists pounding on the door, but after a bit they faded away.

The moment she was gone you instantly felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your chest, slumping against the door with a breath of exertion and relief. But that relief quickly dissipated when you locked eyes with Alastor, who was advancing on you, his smile obviously strained. The way he spat your name at you made you shrink back slightly, realizing that he was actually not pleased.

“You cannot just throw your own mother out like that. Into the streets? My dear, that is no way to treat your mother. And frankly, it’s rude.”

You felt anger rising once more, but you didn’t want to start anything with Alastor despite the fact that he had no idea what he was talking about. Of course it looked simply like bad etiquette from his standpoint; he had no idea who your mother was. And somehow you didn’t feel it was proper to tell him- you knew how much he valued his own mother and mothers in general, and as sweet as you had always thought that was, you knew he and his rosy view of maternal relationships wouldn’t understand and perhaps not allow for your turbulent relationship with your own mother. And you didn’t want to be the one to tarnish his otherwise endearing perspective by explaining how abhorrent of a person your mother was. So despite how much you just wanted to scream at him, to tell him he had no clue what was really going on, you kept your composure, inhaling shakily.

“Alastor, please. You- you don’t know what you’re talking about. So just stay out of it, alright?”

“She’s your mother, not the devil, dear.” Alastor’s tone was back to normal, and he was speaking in his usual radio voice as if he was talking to just anyone, and it made your stomach churn.

“She’s not innocent, Alastor, she’s in Hell-”

“Ah, but so are you and I, sweetheart.”

Your face crumpled, and you found yourself coming up short for a rebuttal. Before you could stop them, tears started to well in your eyes, frustrated that you couldn’t get through to him. Out of spite and pride, you blinked them back harshly. Alastor tilted his head and started to come towards you, his mic stand clacking on the ground as he walked, and for a moment you felt a glimmer of hope, thinking that he truly wanted to talk and get to the bottom of your animosity towards your mother.

But the Radio Demon breezed right past you and, before you could stop him, opened the door, and your mother whom you’d thought had given up at last and left waltzed right back in, suddenly no longer the aggrieved mother you’d thrown out and back to beaming a mile a minute. The self-assured smirk she sent your way had your blood boiling with rage, and you felt powerless to act. You wanted to slap that smirk off of her face, but why wouldn’t she smirk? She had Alastor exactly where she wanted him, and both of you knew it.

“I apologize sincerely for the earlier… incident,” Alastor told your mother with a note olf sympathy in his voice, and again he took her hand; you had to tear your eyes away, back to the scene.

“Aren’t you charming!” your mother exclaimed, voice pleasant and upbeat. ‘Don’t even think of it, I’ve already forgotten.”

“You’re too kind, miss. But in order to make up for it, I’d like to offer you to spend the night. I would hate to send a lovely woman such as yourself out on the streets of Hell after sundown. I implore you.”

Fucking Christ. You didn’t even have to see her to know the way she was grinning at you. Your shoulders tensed, rising to your ears, and the tears burned hot in your eyes. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction, you bit your inner cheek hard enough to draw blood so as to not make the slightest sound alerting her to your tears.

“What a kind invitation. It’s nice to know at least somebody wants me here.” An icy silence from you. “It’d be rather rude not to accept; I would be happy to spend the night.”

“Lovely!” Alastor praised.

You couldn’t take any more. Unable to stifle your sobs, hot tears falling down your cheeks, you tossed back a cracked “I’m going to bed,” and stormed out of the lobby with your head down, rushing upstairs as fast as you could and ignoring Alastor’s calls of your name. Just as you slammed the door to your room, you heard your mother say, “Oh, don’t worry about her. Let her cool off for a bit, and then I’ll go after her. A mother always knows how to cheer up her child.”

It was quiet now. Hours ago Angel Dust had returned from his work and Charlie and Vaggie had locked up for the night. Nifty had been, though with much effort, put to bed by Husk who had then closed up the bar and retired himself. You didn’t know where your mother or Alastor were, and you didn’t want to.

You were the only one up now, and you had finally run out of tears. Your head was stuffy, your eyes were sore and bloodshot, and you could feel the beginnings of a hangover coming on. It felt like days you’d spent just crying in your bed, unable to suppress the emotion you’d felt since your mother reappeared that morning. Charlie had actually come to check on you earlier, worried, along with Vaggie, but Alastor had told them to let you be for now. You’d heard their muffled conversation from outside your door.

You just wished Alastor would understand, that they all would understand. Your mother wasn’t a mother. She didn’t nurture, she didn’t love, all she did was belittle you, bully you, and take from you. Yet never once had you been able to figure out what you’d ever done to her. You had tried so hard to help and to please her as a living child, then teenager, then adult- tending to your siblings when she was out on the town, working multiple jobs to take care of the house while she spent the day blackout drunk and the nights in the city, and still desperately believing she would change, you sent her portions of your salary when you grew older and begged her to utilize the money, but she always blew it on material shit. And as if it wasn’t enough that you had to be the mother to yourself and your siblings, she beat you too, mostly when she was drunk but sometimes you felt it was just for her amusement or to make you feel small and worthless. As a teenager she did nothing but sabotage you- you couldn’t ever have friends over because she was always passed out on the couch or acting erratic and stinking of cheap liquor, and you had to fight like hell to get your siblings out of there after you left home for school. And yet you had still had hope for her.

That all changed when you came to Hell. It was the end of the road for real now, and you figured there was no point trying to reconcile with your mother anymore. So you’d left her in the past, thinking it was over, finally allowing yourself a little peace. But you hadn’t realized the extent of the resent you’d been harboring until she showed up at the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel. All those feelings just came rushing back.

Another hour or so passed and your swollen eyes were dried out and heavy-lidded. Exhausted from fretting about your mother and regretting the amount you'd had to drink, you turned over in your bed with a stifled groan and closed your eyes, hoping that sleep would finally find you and you could escape the events of the day at least for a little while. But just as you were drifting off, you were startled by the sound of your bedroom door opening.

You let out a moan that was half confusion and half sleepiness, and rolled over just a little to glance at the door through hazy eyes. “Alastor?” you mumbled questioningly, rubbing your eyes groggily.

But the voice that responded woke you right up.

“Not a chance, pet.”

You sat up instantly, knocking the bedcovers off. In the doorway, a shadowy silhouette in the dimly lit hallway, was your mother. A discordant note of exasperation sounded in your head; the woman couldn't let you be even at this hour? For the moment at least, you were more mildly annoyed than pissed like you were earlier, just wondering what in the hell she could possibly want now.

“Why are you even-”

You cut yourself off and immediately jumped out of the bed just as your mother lunged at you like a pouncing tigress; you'd sensed the attack in the way she had been moving and acted accordingly before she could maul you. It didn't mean it didn't still catch you off guard, though.

Your voice rising, you snapped, “What the hell are you-”

Again you were interrupted when she sprung off the bed and snatched your wrists in her iron grip before you could dodge again; her clasp was tight and bruising and you winced painfully. You caught a glimpse of her eyes in the faint light, and they were inflamed, wild with fury she'd probably been suppressing this whole time. It wasn't a new expression.

��Who the hell do you think you are?” she snarled, voice trembling with fury.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you demanded, tearing your wrists from her grasp and moving a distance away from her so she was on one side of the bed and you were on the other. By the bewildered look on her face, she was clearly not expecting you to break away so effortlessly; maybe thinking she could just abuse you like she did when you were a defenseless child.

Like hell.

“What the hell are you even mad at me for?”

Your mother, seething, launched more accusations at you. “You think you're better than me, now, is it? Saw your sorry ass on the news after that damn Extermination rebellion. Bet it took your ego up a few notches killing those Exorcists, huh? And now that you're in some fancy hotel, dating some powerful boytoy and hiding behind hell's princess, you think you can just get rid of me?”

“Apparently fucking not, because here you are. And I'm not hiding. I'm trying to get away from you.”

Your mother let out a bitter, droll laugh. “Oh, you think that's how this works?” she hissed in an icy manner, and even though you were already a good distance away you backed up further still. “Think again, whore. I'm the one who deserves to be here, not some ungrateful little cunt who just happened to fall out of me. If I have to live destitute in the back alleys of Hell, so do you.”

The heartless insults and vulgarities she hurled your way would have shattered the living version of you. But it was about time your mother learned that you were no longer the pleading daughter you’d been on Earth, and instead of piercing your heart the names merely bounced off of you.

“You might recall I spent my whole damn life trying to help you,” you answered with equal coldness. “And for nothing, too, because here the hell we both are. Don't blame me because you turned out to be the nothing you always were.”

Without warning, she lunged at you, rushing forward like a charging bull, and though you tried to dodge she managed to snatch a handful of your hair and slam your head into the wall. You let out a cry of shock and pain and spots exploded in front of your vision before you reached up, tore her hand from your head and shoved her forward. You advanced again, teeth bared and fists balled, unwilling to let her get up- but before you could swing, there was a crackle in the air- and what followed was a cacophony of static, crackling, and microphone feedback that would've deafened an elephant. But the sound wasn't new to you, and you weren't surprised in the least when you lifted your eyes to see Alastor, smile maniacal and glowing red eyes wild as he entered the room. The sudden explosion of sound made your mother flinch and clap her hands over her ears, and seeing your opening, you kicked her to the ground; her head hit the wall rather roughly and she lost consciousness, her body going limp. You were breathing heavily, staring at her body sprawled on the ground without pity.

Alastor's eyes lost their luminescence and his smile softened; and he came over to you, attempting to touch you, but you shied away. You weren't necessarily ready to forgive him; if he'd just done a little more pushing and hadn't invited your mother here with you, this could have been avoided. You dropped your eyes to the floor.

“I'm sorry, my dear,” Alastor offered in a voice that was sufficiently staticky. “I wasn't too kind to you today.”

You wanted to say, no shit, but held your tongue, back to him still. Feelings of resent still swirled within you, but admittedly, hearing his apology did make them dissipate a little.

“Why is it you didn't simply tell me she was like this?”

Now you were silent not out of spite but more because…you simply didn't know what to say? Where were you to even begin? How would you explain that you didn't want to somehow tarnish his view of mothers by explaining your history with your own? And that you didn't want him to feel guilty about having a good relationship with his mother while yours was knocked out on the floor in front of you? And that you didn't want him to lose his love of mothers because you were unfortunate enough to have a shitty one?

Somehow you managed to splutter all of that into something coherent, because Alastor gathered you in his arms without waiting for your approval, which you didn't mind, finally feeling somewhat okay since your mother had first shown up. You felt his hands in your hair, taming the out of place strands, and he lifted your wrists to his eyes, tutting in disapproval when he saw the bruises beginning to form. He settled for wordlessly kissing the deepening marks gently, but when he spotted the gash on your head where your mother had slammed you into the wall, his smile turned positively venomous. His head did a full 180 on his neck, which always made you cringe, to glare at your groggily awakening mother, who froze in her position on the floor when she caught his alarming gaze.

Alastor turned back to you, static popping in the air, and his smile grew- if that was even possible. “Well, sweetheart? What would you like me to do with her?”

You were frankly tired now of fighting your mother, who had staggered from the ground, rage still evident in her visage but with Alastor present she wasn’t about to act. So with a weary sigh, slumping into Alastor’s chest, you muttered, “I just want her gone.”

“Anything you wish.” And within the next few minutes, Alastor had summoned Nifty, who was more than eager to take out the trash, and had the tiny janitor drag your mother from your room by her hair. You lost sight of the two after they left, but by the way Nifty was giggling the entire time she was hauling your mother, you had a feeling the next several hours wouldn’t be too enjoyable for her.

You’d been on edge the whole day, but you didn’t quite realize the sheer amount of tension your mother’s presence had placed on you until it was only you and Alastor inside the room. His hand traced soothing circles around your back, and you finally felt like you could breathe.

The morning, after what seemed like centuries, finally did arrive. You were already up although day had barely broken, and that was because the earlier commotion had disturbed the hotel residents and they had literally gotten you and Alastor (who had evidently felt bad enough to spend the rest of the night with you, which he didn’t often do for posterity reasons, kissing the side of your head where it was wounded and apologizing once more) up out of bed to barrage you both with an onslaught of questions (and Nifty remaining suspiciously silent save the occasional maniacal giggle). With some reluctance you gave the group a brief explanation of everything that had gone down, Alastor standing beside you with a protective hand on your shoulder. Long story short, everyone basically grasped that they’d fucked up by allowing your mother in and judging you harshly about it, and before long Charlie was in tears and begging for you to forgive her, Vaggie had admitted her remorse over it, Angel Dust was shifty-eyed and sheepish, and Husk apologized to you formally. You dismissed the apologies with a grateful look, and that seemed to satisfy them all except Charlie, who you had to tell straight out you truly did forgive her at least five times and that only set her off bawling again to the point Vaggie had to carry the girl out.

Alastor, although one couldn’t tell by his face, apparently did feel guilty about his involvement in the whole fiasco because he took you out for breakfast and spent the rest of the day with you, and by the time night fell once more your cheeks hurt from smiling so much and your spirits were significantly lifted. It wasn’t until the two of you were in bed together (again, your lucky day, you didn’t even have to convince him) that he broke the long, contented silence you two had been sharing to inform you curtly:

“You didn’t ruin my opinion of mothers, you know.”

You sat up at this, eyes wide with hope and relief. He rose along with you to meet your gaze.

“I didn’t?”

“Oh, no. My dear, I love my own mother dearly, but don’t think I’m not aware that others may not have the same relationship with their own mothers. I did admire your resilience, though, and though it really wasn’t necessary, I do appreciate your attempt to spare my feelings. If I do say so myself”- his hand came to rest on your lower belly- “you seem like you’d make quite a stellar mother yourself.”

“Alastor.”

“Merely a thought.”

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