#i can barely handle being in a relationship in general!

[im-fucking-lonely]

this shit is CRAZY at the same time I'm considering asking them if theyd want to do a wedding ceremony with me I'm also thinking about drunkenly making out with them in the bathroom of a dingy bar and ending with hickeys all over both our necks

[archive-doll]

Oh, sweet neighbour. III

Johnny Mactavish x f!reader.

SYNOPSIS: Johnny tries to be a gentleman, but god, you are so delectable.

MDNI 18+ ONLY CW: the military and inaccuracies. you're pregnant, that's a warning on its own. takes place in Scotland, AU where Johnny is forcibly retired and finds a new obsession. hints of dom/sub dynamic. Hints of child abuse/neglect. Kyle x Johnny is mentioned, if you squint. Slightly angsty. Mention of John. Pet names are used - hen, bonnie, lass. He gets a hard-on. FLUFF M'eudail means dearest/darling apparently. I hope so, at least.

Have mercy on my grammar, English is not my first language.

AUTHOR NOTE: we're getting there! some intimacy and vulnerability as you two progress in your fresh relationship(?).

PREV. MLIST

The rough knocks on your front door don’t startle you as you roam in your living room, unable to sit for long when you're on the phone. Leo barks once, the old dog wagging its fluffy tail behind him, while he raises his head toward the door.

You're not worried. You know who it is now. Johnny.

Your feet are kept warm in your slippers as you walk to the door, and you frown, listening to the employee on the phone. Your eyes flicker as you turn the key to the side before pushing the handle down to find him. That familiar twirl in your chest comes back to life, little thing, at the sight of him enveloped in his coat.

"Hey." You murmur, your phone sliding away from your mouth for a moment.

There is no thought in your head when you shift your weight onto your toes, lifting yourself enough so that your mouth can press a chaste kiss on his jaw. His beard tingles, and you fall back on your feet with a smile before turning away. Drew back by that damn phone call.

"So, you are telling me you cannot come today, yes?" You repeat, hearing the door being kicked back. You turn towards Johnny with a sigh as you listen to the older man on the phone, giving you his apologies. "No, it's alright, I - I understand. Goodbye."

Johnny's coat is resting by yours on the wall when you cut the call. It's not their fault, and you know that, but it doesn't mean it's not frustrating. A little family business was supposed to come and take a look at the electric wires going around your house, because the lights keeps flickering. But your appointment will have to be postponed. They were a strong thunderstorm yesterday, south in the county, and some roads are now flooded.

"Wha' is it, bonnie?"

"They can't come. Roads are not accessible because of the storm." You mumble, placing your phone down before pinching the arch of your nose.

Everything had been going so well for you in the last few days. Under Johnny's firm recommendation - ignored demand, really - you had someone come and check on your multiple fireplaces. Before the end of the day, they were cleaned and are now safe to use and well-maintained, and now, you know how to safely utilise them.

Then, due to Johnny's organisation and surprisingly wide knowledge, your kitchen seems anew. No squeak or screeching sounds can be heard anymore, and you even had the time to paint the doors blue while Johnny took care of the island counter, sanding and varnishing it clean.

You went, with your new shadow, to that damn slaughterhouse, and got two mares for barely anything. They were going to be slaughtered, and Mister Graham generously lended you his trailer for you to take them home. It's been three days now, and they are already growing comfortable at your presence, after long hours passed by their side.

Everything was going so well.

"Ey, ey now, lassie." Johnny hushes you at the first sound of your sniffle. It's impossible to miss it.

He had already seen the signs when you opened the door, the way your shoulders are curled forward as if to hide into yourself and disappear. That little crease in your brows, which means anxiousness. That little pinch in the right corner of your mouth, hiding your displeasure and gloom.

But he sees it. Johnny sees you. He barely makes anything sound, even though it feels like rushing through fire and swiftly comes by your side, before you can feel his hands settle on your shoulders.

"It's stupid, isn't it?"

"Nah, not stupid." He hums back to you, fingers gently kneading at your shoulder. Without another word, you're surrounded by his warmth.

You don't resist as he strokes his knuckles down your spine, making you nestle closer, deeper into him while you rest your cheek on his chest.

Your fingers curl at the edge of his jumper when he places his hand by your nape. Johnny does that often when you get overwhelmed or apprehensive. It helps in settling you, he noticed. His thumb caresses your skin, that little part right behind your ear, a soft spot, and you sigh, already feeling comforted by his simple sign of affection. You're not alone anymore. That's what he tells you.

"Let's go out, aye? Ye said ye need tae go buy some food."

"Mhm. And there's that thrift shop that I wanted to go visit."

He grunts in answer, his nose skipping over the crown of your hair. Your slippers move on the ground, settling in between his boots as you squeeze your arms around his chest, hands finding refuge on the slope of his shoulders. Eyes close, you bask in it - the security he offers you. The stability he brings into your life, someone to lean on. Someone to talk to when you worry, to share your joy with.

"Go into the car, a'right? I'll go get the bags for ye."

Johnny knows it unsettled you when you don't pipe up a word at his word. Usually, you tend to put up a fight or always think of something else to do before, so you're not simply sitting down while he does the work. Your words, not his. But you only give him a little shake of your head, accepting, and he feels his heart throb in reaction. He would rather have your banter and disapproving frown than this version of you. Dejected, and your pretty mouth curled down.

If it were up to him, you would always wear a smile. Probably nothing more, too.

"C'mon now, hen." His hand pats the end of your back, and you grasp at his shoulders one more time before moving away.

While that's inconvenient, it could be a nice change of pace for you. To go out for once, and think of yourself for a little bit. He pushes a few plastic bags into one, checking to see you putting the little yellow raincoat on, almost ready to go. His eyes find the silhouette of your handbag, and he grabs it before finding himself locking your front door.

You've finally taken up residence now. There are no more bags in your room. A few paintings on the wall of your staircase. Cooking books are well-ordered in a little library he found for you, close to your fridge and one potted plant. He can always see a novel on the low table now, in the living room. And, always, there's a pair of dark blue slippers waiting for him at the entrance. Your home finally looks like one.

It took a few words or persuasion, not that you're difficult to convince, and he even put more bolts on your front door and the back one. The 80s curtain went into the trash after you discovered some mold one morning. Not that you know, but his plan to make you change your windows is doing well. And, your stairs don't make a noise when he sneaks in.

You're sitting behind the wheel when he approaches the car, yours, and you can only laugh when he frowns at you, with his arm in a cast.

"You can't drive, Johnny, you know that."

"Dinnea need yer reminder." He grumbles, watching your joy bubble up when he circles around the car.

Before you could even roll out of the land, Johnny is fiddling with the radio. Your eyes flicker across his frame, still trying very hard to ignore how beautiful and kind he is. Your hands squeeze around the wheel when your eyes find his lap, strong thighs pushing into the jeans until it's tight. You never thought you'd end up with a lumberjack kind of neighbour, a retired military guy who grumbles, offended when you're trying to do anything by yourself.

You snort at the memory of him, almost gasping out loud when he'd seen you vacuum the kitchen three days ago. It was so dramatic how he stomped toward you and gently took your hands away before starting to do the household chores all by himself.

"Wha'?"

"Nothing. Just, for a big guy like you, you can be very - theatrical." You snicker, and he turns toward you, eyes sharp and pinched as he gazes you up and down as you accelerate.

"Wha' does tha' even mean?"

"What I just said."

"Dinnea be cheeky with me now."

Your shoulders shake as you giggle before a jolt take over you when his fingers pinch your thigh. Your eyes widen, indignant, and you gasp out his name in a whine before you strike at him, knuckles hitting into the broadness of his chest. He chuckles, catching your wrist easily and does that thing again, rubbing his thumb over your nail polish.

"Wan' tae stop and do yer pretty nails again?"

"Mhm? Oh, yeah, maybe. What will you do while I'm there?" You say, surprised by his proposition, feeling that tingle in your belly when you feel him fidget with your palm a little more.

"Wha' d'ye mean? I'll be with ye."

You blink his way, hearing the calm in his tone as if it's obvious, the only option, the only choice there is for him. To stay by your side and share the moment with you. You look forward again, shifting slightly the wheel of your car before your fingers curl around his hand. It's quiet, and none of you say anything about it when he circles his thumb across your knuckles, following the bones there.

The rest of the drive is filled with chatter, as it is usually between the two of you. He has been trying to teach you Scottish - even some Gaelic - but your pronunciation is deeply concerning, apparently. His face curls and recoils as if you've pained him each time you try to repeat the words. You find it absolutely delightful.

You barely have time to unclasp your seatbelt when he's opening your door. His palm finds your elbow, curling around it as you turn in your seat, feet finding the muddy ground. He fastens the zipper of your coat, using his casted hand under your disapproving eyes until you're warm and snug. Johnny shifts enough to cover you from the rain until you've put your hood on.

The motion is imperceptible, you don't even notice it, like a lot of other little things he does for you.

"Where d'ye want to gae first?"

"Thrift shop, maybe the library after?"

"Aye." He nods, a firm hand pushing the car door close before you lock it absentmindedly, eyes flickering around the streets.

You only came in passing before, not feeling quite like you belonged there, and barely understanding most people you'd cross paths with. You knew it would be hard, moving to another country and perfecting the language there while learning to decipher the different accents and slang words you come across. But you never thought it could make you feel so lonely.

But with Johnny by your side, it's different. First, because no one looks at you when this handsome man walks by your side, too distracted by his opalescent eyes and that swag he possesses with each step. And because you know no one will ever approach you when he glares at everyone like that. Not that they would try, anyway, with how intimidating he looks these days.

You stroll around the village quietly, Johnny taking position between the street and you. One hand lay on the roundness of your tummy, and the other grazed his own with every few steps, fingers twitching each time he traces his index along the length of your palm. It's soft, how he reminds you he's here, by your side. And he isn't planning on leaving either.

A little bell dings when Johnny pushes the door open, watching you step inside the warm place before letting it fall close. It smells a bit dusty and old, like your grandma's house when you were a kid. An employee greets you behind her desk, and you give her a little wave before disappearing between the aisles.

You didn't come to Scotland with a lot of belongings. Actually, most of your wardrobe was left behind; only keep what was necessary or items you had an attachment to. Like a majority of your possessions. Now that you're pregnant, you need some clothes, ones that you can actually wear. Your eyes flicker as you walk around, humming to yourself when you pass by the skirt aisle. There are a few that you like, either the pattern adorning it or the material, and place them in your little bag.

"Why don't ye go about, I'll hold tha' for ye."

"You sure? Don't you want to look around?" You ask, finding Johnny standing by your side as his fingers already curl around the handle, taking the bag for you.

"I am. Gae on, hen." He reassures you with a little tilt of his chin.

Your hand passes down his forearm, squeezing his wrist gratefully before you look back.

You find a few more long skirts before you move away. Each time your feet lift from the ground, Johnny copies your motion, following you around. Never allow himself to leave your side. The pants, well, that's another difficult task to complete. You place the hem by your waist and rub your fingers on the tissue, but you can't find anything you really like apart from two pairs of baggy jeans. It's probably out of style now, but that doesn't matter.

Johnny can't seem to look away for too long. He's battling between two instincts - one ordering him to stay by you and the other one prickling at his nape until he stares around, making sure the exits are free if needed. It's a habit he can not seem to shake, though he isn't trying. No one told him how alien civilian life would be when they forcefully pushed him out of the Army.

But his head always turns back to you. He feels slightly out of place as you give a once over to the dresses, but he takes a breath between his teeth and focuses on you.

You take one out of the aisle, turning it to find the back free, gently dipping down to what you assume would be your hips in a gentle curve. Another one you choose, a black little thing and a denim dress that will fall to mid-thighs at best. You consider it, lips curling in a pensive pout before deciding you'll take it.

"Wha' else d'ye need?" Johnny asks you, pushing the bag your way to discard you of the articles.

"Jumper, tee-shirt- all of it. I didn't take much with me."

His dark eyebrows curl down as he ponders your words, rolling them around in his head. You haven't spoken yet about your past, only giving information to feed his paranoid mind, but never more than what was needed. That's another intriguing piece of the puzzle that is you. One he is intent on resolving.

You don't think much of it as Johnny watches you fly around, the bag getting more and more heavy with each piece of clothing you want to take home with you. You even find a jumpsuit with a little heart on the back that you immediately fall in love with. He finds the sight of you, gushing about some clothes, very charming. But Johnny can't stop going back to it.

Why would you leave all that you know, all your friends and family, your house, your job, to come bury yourself in one little remote village in Scotland? Gods know he could barely consider the idea when he was in the hospital. And then later, when he wander around helplessly. It might be half due to his professional deformation and the other half because of his slithering fascination for you, but Johnny starts to get slightly apprehensive, not knowing.

"Did'ye left someone behin'?"

The question takes you by surprise, as you are looking into the coat section, searching for one that falls to your knees. Your hands still, as his soft voice twirls around the both of you, eyes staying right in front of you. Johnny can read you easily, of course, seeing the discomfort as your soft hands tighten and twist the garment.

"My mother." You finally give him, eyes fleeting over your shoulders to find him.

"M sorry, lass."

"It's fine. She isn't very good. Or kind." The hushed words escape your mouth almost out of your control, and you shake your head a little, thinking about it.

"Nah?"

"No."

You can see his hands tightening and let out a little sigh. Folding the jumper between your hands, then turn around until you face him. Johnny is surprised not to find any sadness or hint of resentment. Instead, you stand there, with your admission, in peace with it. With that other fragment of yourself hanging in the air that you give him. Sweet little girl, always so good to him, even in your vulnerability.

"I'll tell you more if you tell me about you." You propose, with a little glint of challenge in your eyes.

It's a well-intended proposal. One who's fair and incredibly tempting. Because, while Johnny could definitely find any, and more, information he could want in a simple phone call, that's not what he should do. Or want to do. Honest, he thought about it. There are a lot of people who owe him a favour all across the globe with interesting positions.

But today, Johnny has a plan. To show you that he's reliable, a person of trust. One you can share your pain with and your joy. A shoulder you can lean on, a hand you can reach to. Today, Johnny wants to make that step with you - and open himself.

He can not tell you all of it. There are things that, even if he wished to share, he isn't able to. Confidential. Restricted. He has knowledge that could topple an empire. Tear apart one of the most powerful countries in the world and start a revolution. The crown would fall, and the head that holds it, too.

He wishes to share. Johnny wants to talk to you, and silently warns you of what you will choose if you decide to keep him in your life. The consequences. And what he wants to - need. He never searched for a relationship, satisfied with the entertainment and the lightness of meaningless hookups. Faces that didn't matter. Arms he could disappear into.

Until, them, of course. And then, well, betrayal. Silence, not even hearing his side, without a goodbye.

But you, oh, hen.

He craves more. Johnny needs you like air. It's more devotion than love, really. Something that simmers beneath his skin and twists at his gut. And while he knows it's not right, that it isn't a good foundation for what he wishes to build with you, it's the truth. He wouldn't sit by your side when you sleep if it weren't. He wouldn't drink in the sight of you like air - unable to breathe when he's away, if it weren't true.

Therefore, today, Johnny will do it right. Show you what he has to offer, what it would be if you allow him to be more than a very nice neighbour. Today, Johnny will be a gentleman, like John taught him to be around a pretty bird like you.

The face of the old geezer flashes in his mind, and his jaw clenches for a second before he focuses back on you. They don't deserve his lamentations. Not after what they did to him.

"Dinnae think ye would want to know more 'bout me, lass." He tuts, strolling forward until the tip of his boots grazes your coloured sneakers.

"Oh, so sorry, Sir. Where are my manners?" You answer back with a grin, leaning forward like the little tease that you are.

Johnny can feel his breath halt in his throat and the groans that threaten to take its place and shatter the silence of the thrift shop you are in. You flutter your lashes at him, soft eyes glistening with mirth, and his attention leisurely hitches toward the silhouette of you, leaning closer. His eyes are dangerously tempted to stroke down the swell of your breasts. Bloody hell, you're a sight.

"Course, I want to know more about you, Johnny." The words are pronounced like a gentle confession, something precious only for him to hear. "I have the feeling you're not planning on leaving, so."

His fingers covered with calluses, come and pinch your chin at your little taunt. His eyes linger down the lines of your features, carefully memorising it, the moment you both are in where you make another careful step in your relationship. You're a little bashful, he can tell, but you're making great efforts. He'll have to reward you for it.

"Find yerself mor' clothes, hen; then we'll talk." He promises, trailing the first knuckle of his index along your chin.

He trails behind you quietly unless you ask for his impartial opinion. The bag is full long before you make your way to the cash register. Johnny gently coaxed you into choosing that skirt you looked at earlier, and you feel his approving gaze while the kind woman passes your articles.

Johnny has half the mind to pay for you, his eyes flickering from the blue card in your fingers to the lady, but reels it in the need to be a provider. He has to be patient, slowly making you lean on him. And make you think it's your idea, too, with a few words and a gentle caress of his hand. He's certain you wouldn't need much discipline on this matter, but for now, he has to make you accustomed to him first.

It's with a particularly satisfied glow on your face that you step out of the third shop. You put a bit more money into making your wardrobe substantial than you had planned, but well, you deserve a little pick-me-up after today's change of plan. And Johnny's contented grumble of approval helps in making your decision easy to accept.

"Where tae now hen?"

"Nails?" You hum, looking at him for his approbation. You still wonder how this can be interesting for him, watching you decide between clothes, change your mind, or try some new shoes on, but don't dare to speak about it.

Not with how pleased he had seemed each time you asked for his opinion.

"Aye, let's dae tha'."

Your fingers twitch at the first glide of his touch on your palm before his hand cradles yours, engulfing it in his paw. Your heart picks up slightly, but you don't fight the feeling and the gentle shift between you. Instead, you side-step closer, giving him a genuine, happy smile in response.

"What colour should I do this time?"

"Dinnae. Red suit ye." Johnny mules over it, keeping your soft fingers firmly intertwined in his grip.

"Mhm. I don't want red again. And I have to cut my nails, can't get any work done with how long they are."

"Shouldnae worry 'bout it, hen." Johhny huffs, giving you a firm stare as you continue your slow stroll back to the car.

"Yes, yes," you sigh with a little nod of your head, amused by how disturbed he always finds the thought. "Should only enjoy life, sip on tea, and look pretty."

"Aye, ye should." He grunts in affirmation, and you watch with great enjoyment how he puffs out his chest, looking like a peacock parading.

"Johnny... I came here to make a good life for myself." You gently remind him, not taking offence at his demeanour. You know he doesn't mean it in a diminishing way.

It doesn't mean you agree with it, though you find it rather lovely, how firm he is in his opinion. That you should have a good life, a life that doesn't mean waking up at the crack of dawn, blistered hands, or being faced with any troubles. You should have the opportunity to relax at any given moment and partake in your hobbies, or simply entertain yourself as you wish.

"I know, hen." He sighs, too, squeezing your hand firmly to reassure you.

Truly, he admires that about you. Your independence, how you always want to do it all on your own. You have a quick whip about you, finding alternative to every problematic situation. But Johnny is starting to think you didn't become independent because you wanted to, and leans more toward the hypothesis that you didn't have a choice. Especially after what you just revealed to him about your mother.

That greatly angers him.

You deserve to be able to rest once in a while. And understand that you're not alone. Not anymore. Not as long as you keep him by your side.

"So, not red, and short." You mumble to yourself, as you look forward.

You were still thinking about it when you both entered the salon. The hostess welcomes you, and her voice stutters once she finally raises her eyes from her laptop and finds Johnny standing behind you, in all of his glory. You try to hide it, your smile, but can't resist the giddiness it brings you, knowing Johnny wants to be near you. Even for something as insignificant as your nail appointment.

"You must be - " You have to bite down your bottom lip to avoid giggling when she utters your last name while flickering her surprised eyes once more on Johnny.

"Yes, I am."

"Well, Miss Mark will be your esthetician today."

The elegant sound of her stilettos clicking on the ground echoes as she guides you further into the little shop. You're eagerly welcomed by Miss Mark, an older woman with beautiful grey hair, and you settle down in front of her desk with a warm smile on your face. It's not long before Johnny is seated by your side, one arm resting on the back of your chair as you chat with the esthetician, going over your ideas.

"Okay, so short nails and some soft pink cherry picnic tip." Miss Mark repeats your final decision, turning slightly to the side before grasping a few boxes. "Do you want some charms?"

"I would like a few yes, flowers maybe?"

"I can do that. Here, tell me which you like most."

You take the little box she slides on the desk, and absentmindedly shift toward Johnny as you go over her collection. You feel him before you see him, his chest pressing into your side, and his hand falls on your arm as he gazes over your shoulders at all the accessories. He doesn't speak, not yet, as you purse your lips, choosing first what colour would complement the nail art best.

"What do you think, Johnny?" You ask, fluttering your pretty eyes up at him, finding him much closer than you thought. A shudder runs down your spine when your nose grazes his chin, and you stutter back a few inches.

His fingers pat your upper arm as he stares down at the charms there that you placed down on the desk after a first sorting. You try to keep your manners, really, but your lips part when you take in his scent. A warm one, smell of firewood and a cologne you don't recognise. And his full beard, which he started trimming since he moved down the river, is making you needy for a touch.

"Like tha' one."

"The orchid?"

"Suit ye."

You gaze down at the flower with a smile, strangely embarrassed at his words, before feeling his palm rest just beneath your shoulder. Johnny presses his palm there, on your flesh, until you're nestled into his side, his frame engulfing you in his embrace. A chaste adoring peck is left on your temple as you rearrange the accessories, and you feel the flames lick at your cheeks in reaction.

You know Johnny can be quite affectionate, but it never happened in a public setting before. You don't mind the attention, of course not. You simply are too conscious of his presence, is all. You're pretty certain you can feel your heartbeat in your throat as you present the charms to the esthetician.

It's with no surprise that you find Miss Mark smiling at both of you, almost swooning at the view you must make. You know how it might appear, a pregnant lady and a sturdy man by her side. After all, Johnny was called your boyfriend twice today, and one told you, you made a good choice in marrying him. You had never stumbled so harshly on your words before, hands moving as you tried to find an answer to that, but Johnny, well.

He was preening. He is too now; you can feel it in how his body straightens in his chair.

"It's a nice lad you have here."

"Yeah." You sigh, not having the energy to say anything else.

And you don't exactly want to, your eyes shifting to find him, eyes crinkling under a prideful smile as being complimented on how well he provides for you. He almost reminds you of a dog, one whose tail wags so hard his whole body sways under the motions. You move in your seat and lay a hand on his knee, attracting his attention as you give him a grateful smile.

You might have the arguments or vigour to deny it if only for your own self-esteem, but you know all that Johnny does for you. He might not be your lad or your boyfriend, but well, you are still very lucky to have him either way.

"We don't have many lads come here with their girls. It's nice for once."

A simple smile is your answer to that as Miss Mark starts working on your free hand.

Fingers start running through your hair, gently adjusting your hairstyle as you start to chat with the kind woman. It's the usual question: where do you come from, and why did you come here, but it's a nice change to your now daily routine consisting of chasing after chickens and chores that exhaust you.

Both hands now resting in the UV machine, Johnny goes back over the list of all that you wanted to do before going back home. You definitely have to pass by the store so you can have a full fridge for the next two weeks, and then, well, Johnny wants to pass by that dog breeding farm a little further in the lands.

"We should go to the store first." You decide, gently moving your fingers under the blue lights. "But didn't make a list." You add, knowing they were something that you forgot to do before leaving home this morning.

"Can dae it now, don't fret, bonnie." He shushes you, a warm hand rubbing your shoulder lazily as he tugs his phone out of his pocket.

"Okay, then, I want to cook us some chicken for tomorrow's lunch. So thyme, onions, and garlic." You start then, leaning until your chin is pressed up against his bicep, watching with doe eyes, Johnny writing it all down.

"Potatoes, veggies." He hums after you, already knowing about the recipe since you told him about it three days ago. "And pepper, aye?"

"Yes, one of each." Your voice is sugary as you confirm his words, body melting into him, seeing how effortless he makes it all to be, caring about you.

"Aye. I'll make us som' cranachan on Sunday." He grumbles, too, his thick eyebrows frowning under his concentration as he adds a few more ingredients.

It's tranquil. You exchange ideas on recipes, asking each other what they want to eat next week. Your cheek rests on his shoulders, his left hand leisurely trailing to your wrist, where his hand settles as he finds your precious pulse. Johnny, watch, when you add a few more things to the list, and you wonder why no one has ever done this with you before.

Why did no one deigned to sit by you before and storm ideas on something so simple as next week's dishes? Your eyes shine as you admire his profile, your heart squeezing half in despair that you've been neglected for so long, and half in gratitude. You never knew how it would feel to be listened to. To find someone who cares for every word you share with them. There is a little burn on the back of your eyes as you snuggle into him deeper, a bit overwhelmed by the realisation that Johnny will do it for you.

Johnny would do that for you. All of it. From giving you ideas on your nail art to helping you get your new mare comfortable in your stable. He will bake you desserts without you needing to ask and support you through every struggle and hard decision you have to make. Johnny will stroke your hair as you doze off on your couch and make sure the fire is full enough for the rest of the evening. He will massage your sore feet and remind you to drink water during the day.

And he makes it look so easy, too. Like, if listening to you doesn't bother him. As if remembering what you said is not a hassle. Johnny shows you, without trying to, how serene it is to help you achieve your lifelong dream. And he does it all without you ever asking for anything. Without making you feel stupid or small.

When you step out of the nail salon, it's you who takes his hand in yours.

With Johnny pushing the cart around, you both stroll around between the aisles of the hypermarket. You only came here a few times before, so while Johnny is telling you of the next thing you are searching for, you look around, trying to understand where to go now.

All of the vegetables have been taken, and most of the meat too - you're planning on freezing a few pieces, just in case you can not drive up here because of the weather. Johnny spent such a long time in the fish sections, chatting up the employee so well he even got a discount. Almost half a bag has been invaded by the fish, the shrimps, and other seafood.

Then, when you went to choose yourself some self-care product, Johnny disappeared. You find him easily after that, multiple products in hand, with him standing there hands on his hips while looking at the strollers. You press a hand against the cart, putting down your creams and other cosmetics before joining him quietly.

In all honesty, you will need to buy one soon. The nursery is bare, and the pretty paper wall you had chosen on the internet is dry and secured, thanks to the man who is circling your waist with a burly arm. You're missing a lot of necessities, and it would do you some good to buy a little today, so you can start somewhere at least. Before, you didn't have the courage to do it or look into the enormous list you made when you first knew you were pregnant.

Now, that you are safe and not alone, you feel ready.

"I want one where you can take the carrycot off the stroller."

"Tha's would be better, aye. And a good harness." Johnny is lost in his thoughts, comparing every stroller presented in front of him as if dealing with a bomb. It almost makes you laugh.

"Mhm. We will need a car seat, too." You sigh, raising a hand to his chest, starting to feel excited about it. "Oh, and a high chair. Little spoons."

He huffs happily, eyes finding your delighted expression and circles your hip in his hand before pointing at one stroller, which looks made of rather good materials. You leave him, not before patting his chest mindlessly and walking closer so you can look at the price and then the description of the product. It's a rather hefty price, but the explanation of all the options almost convinces you.

"Wha' d'ye think?"

"Did you try it?"

"Nah. Was waitin' for ye." He says with a gentle shake of his head, before giving you a little shift up of his chin. You know what that means now. Go on hen.

The plastic is firm in your hold, and you take a step back, testing the wheels on the ground a few times. Backwards and forward. On the left, and on the right. Then, Johnny read you the instructions as you try taking off the carrycot, and it is easier than you expected it to be. Next, you observe Johnny fold it in a few motions. It went all so smoothly, and you watch him adjust it a few times, one hand stroking down your belly.

"Let's take it?"

Your eyes are shining when he pivots to face you, still holding into the stroller to find you there, smiling. Happy. Hopeful, too.

"Aye, hen." He nods, his voice low as you take his breath away.

In a few moments, you have chosen a bed made of good, strong wood that you can adjust in height and adapt to the age of your child as well than a highchair. You're surprised to find such a good quality product in a hypermarket, but comforted, too. Now, it seems real. Now, you're in a place where you are secure enough, financially and emotionally, to welcome your child.

When, with one hand circling his wrist, you take Johnny to the child section, you have to wonder who is the one expecting. He looks everywhere, more serious than you are in the quality and all the different options there are. Even the feeder, Johnny mules over it for quite a while. You end up buying three different nursing bottles of different capacities. Though you've decided long before meeting him to breastfeed your baby, there is nothing wrong with being farsighted.

Your cart contains much more than you were planning for, but as butterflies erupt in your chest, you can't really mind it. Between the bibs, the clothes that you chose, and the rest of it, two entire bags are overflowing with baby stuff. You can find in you to care, and even less when hearing Johnny whistle so joyfully as he filled your trunk, triumph painting his face.

"Now, where to?" You ask him as you put on your seatbelt, hearing him approaching the passenger door.

"I'll get ye ther'. Just drive out of the lot." He tells you as you twist the key into the ignition.

Once more, Johnny takes responsibility for the radio. And while most of the songs that are playing are unknown to you, you must say he has good taste in music. Mostly rock and some punk here and there. You hum the melody as you follow his instruction, Johnny looking at the map on his phone in between your conversation.

"Should ask me mother if she still hav' some of my bairn goods." He says after a moment as you concentrate on the driveway, the turns becoming sharper.

"Yeah?"

"Aye. Dinnae know her number so, I'll hav' to ask around."

You blink at the information, giving him a glance to find him relaxed in the car seat, eyes staying on the road. As always, his lap is as inviting as ever, but you barely notice it as you repeat the words into your head.

"You never talk about your family."

"Nothin' to say, hen."

"You mean nothing nice to say?" You ask again, slightly pushing, seeing the dark veil taking over his beautiful blue eyes.

His hair sways when he rolls his head to gaze at you, remembering your proposition in the thrift shop. He already knows he will say yes and accept it. After all, it could only bring you closer, and that is his objective. While, too, making you think it's your idea. It will give you an impression of control, though, really, with how he bends to your every wish, you might be.

"Aye. Left home when I turn'd eighteen."

"To enrol?"

"Yeh. Tried at sixteen, but they holdnae hav' me. The base was warmer than the old hag." He grumbles, thinking back to the times when he had to buy his own food or clothes when his parents forgot about his existence. He'd rather not get into the details just yet. "Wha' about yers?"

"My mom?" You say, glancing his way to find his piercing eyes staring at you as if investigating. "Well, she raised me by herself. Got cancer when I was young, dad left us then. Breast cancer. Always blamed me for it."

"Fokin' stupid."

Your lips tremble before you let out a laugh at the very tempestuous groan he lets out at your explanation, watching him fold his arms across his chest. The subject of your childhood is never a tender one. It never brings anyone a smile or a sweet sentiment. Unless you lie, of course, which you do sometimes when you don't want to get into it, or are not ready to share that part of you with a mere stranger, or people you don't trust.

But Johnny, well, you want to tell him the truth. Little by little, sure, but still. You want to be honest and sincere, and you're ready for someone to know you and see you, just as you are. You're simply lucky it's with good-hearted Johnny that you're doing it.

"On yer right, hen. Almost ther'."

You slow down as you turn the wheel, driving into a muddy path in the forest. It only takes you two minutes to see the large house there and the rest of the place. As soon as you open the door, you can hear them. The dogs. They must be expecting you because one grey-haired man comes to salute you as you zip up your coat, Johnny sliding your hood over your hair as you shake the man's hand.

"Well, hello, lov'. And you must be Johnny. I'm Angus."

"Aye. Nice tae meit ye."

"Well, come on, then, let me show you the dogs."

Angus is very kind, you find out. You had a lot of questions, a lot of ignorance too, about what a breeding farm entails, but he answers all of them, glad that someone is asking him about it so kindly. You're not certain you agree with the fundamentals of it, but you forget about it all when you first hear the little barks of the puppies.

A gasp leaves you before you're slipping away from Johnny, uncaring about the mud getting in your shoes or the cold wind that is making your teeth shake. Your hands settle on the fence as you look at them, all the little ones there, running around, digging into the ground, looking uncaring about the harsh weather of Scotland.

"Oh my god, Johnny, look!" You squeal, fidgeting on your feet as you gather some attention from the dogs.

"Aye, lass, I'm her'." Johnny chuckles, pressing his form into your back as he feels you fidget around, almost as excited as the little one running your way.

"They're about six weeks old, right now."

"What breed are they? They're so big already." You fawn over it, giggling when some start trying to climb the fence to come to you, waving at them with a bright smile.

"Irish Wolfhound, Ma'am. Make a good hunting dog, or a fine guard dog, too. What you're lookin' for, righ'?" Angus tells you, slightly bending over the fence, to come pet the puppies as he reveals the information to you.

Johnny is already looking away when you turn to face him, his hands pressing into the fence around you. You have to tilt your chin slightly to find him, blinking away the rain as he pinches his lips. You let out an amused scoff as he badly pretends to ignore you before you slap your hand over his chest, your knuckles hitting his guts gently.

You don't know if you're feeling slightly annoyed by his overprotective nature, or melting because of how much he cares for your security and well-being. The adrenaline isn't helping your fluttering mind either.

"Bad dog, Johnny." You murmur slightly, mocking, your hands settling under his coat to shelter themselves from the cold wind.

You feel him tense, a shiver running from his tailbone up to his nape. How his muscles tense against you, curling into a thick knot ready to be torn apart, and you grin his way, leaning into your toes to nudge your nose into his jaw. Johnny doesn't find it amusing at all, feeling how tight his breeches are starting to become as you snuggle your sweet body closer.

"Bonnie." He hisses low between clenched teeth, his mind circling around as if he is lacking oxygen.

Which he could be. As he nudges you away, one trembling hand curling around your hip, you turn the other way with a smile, already focusing back on Angus. His boots slide on the ground as he grunts low in his chest, the delicious arch of your back grazing his groins, hiding his vehement attraction from unwanting eyes. Steamin' bloody Jesus, you're going to kill him. And sooner than later, it appears.

You are not angry at him. You can't be, not while looking at the awkward little puppies trying to run around, already imagining taking one home with you. You get what Johnny is trying to do anyway. You chatted about it multiple times, the both of you, in passing. Or at least you thought, because Johnny doesn't seem to forget anything you say.

Leo is old, eight years old now, and while he will probably live another few years, having a younger pup might do him some good. And for the farm, you'll need a guard dog, probably even plural. You listen intently as Angus tells you all you need to know about Irish Wolfhounds, how tall they get in a few months, what their needs are - a lot of stimulation and land to cover - and what type of education suits them best.

"Wha' d'ye thin', hen?" Johnny whispers, his mouth grazing the sheel of your ear.

"How much?" You settle on saying, turning so you can look at Angus, curling one arm to hold onto Johnny's strong shoulders.

"For you, Ma'am, one mile."

"I'll take two." You say, raising your fingers with a grin.

Angus let out a little laugh, clapping in his hands before ushering you his way. You lose your shadow, but without looking behind you, you know that Johnny is close, probably overseeing the surroundings by the fence as you enter the little puppy area.

You barely have the patience to walk as you first step towards your house. The puppies are heavy already, big babies that yap sweetly and try to lick at your mouth as you hurry inside under Johnny's gratified laughter. It's hard work to close the door of the living room while holding to pup, but you do it anyway, leaving Johnny to do the heavy lifting.

The pitter-patter of their paws on the ground provides you with great delight. When Johnny comes bringing the first two bags in one hand - such a strong one he is - he finds you running around, barefoot, with some wet strand of hair flowing with you're every movement; he cannot stop smiling. It hurt almost to see you squeal when one comes running between your legs, one barking happily as they circle around you.

He's done many great things since he enrolled, all things considered. He built himself a life that is respectable by most. He's well seen and appreciated, too, though it might be different now, with the strain of deception haunting him. He has medals to prove some of his bravest acts, and became a man he can be, and is, proud of.

But nothing, ever, brings him more pleasure than seeing you like this. You're blooming now, head thrown back under your joyful laughter, so much that breathing hurts.

As he starts tidying up the purchases in the kitchen, Johnny finds himself distracted. You took it upon yourself to rearrange the living room with Angus' advice in mind and make it a good home for your new little ones. The giant bed takes up some space, and you try a few dispositions before settling on the best one, where it actually broadens the room. Now the couch faces the fireplace too, which makes more sense to you.

"Johnny?" You call sweetly, holding the little furniture you bought for them that will hold the cups.

"Aye, m'eudail?" He answers, putting back down the bag of peppers and follows the sound of your tantalising voice.

"Where do you think is best?" You ask, turning around to find him approaching. The little furniture is placed in two different spots.

One is close to the entryway, where you definitely need to add a flap door for them. This means that you'll need to remodel a bit, maybe change the front door, actually. Put one with more personality, maybe in some dark colour? But that's a problem for another day. You flutter your lashes at him, not that you're doing it on purpose. Of course, he knows that, but it doesn't mean the consequences are any different.

You smile as he strokes a hand down your back, a bit further down than this morning, and let him think over it. Johnny doesn't take long, of course, the quick thinker that he is and points at the one by the living room.

"You think?"

"Best for 'em tae get cosy with the room before addin' the door into it, hen."

You nod, tilting your head back so it presses into his shoulder and hum. You're happy. It's been a long time since you've been this happy. Johnny comes closer, breaking the distance until he has you in his arms, the cast resting calmly under your faintly swollen belly. His fingers trail there, over your belly button, and you smile, hearing the little dogs sniffing around their new home.

His nose digs into your hair, groaning at the smell of your shampoo and how soft you are against his skin. Even Kyle, beautiful boy Kyle, wasn't as soft as you are. He remembers watching him rub oil into his skin and some in his hair, too. Ended up applying it a few times, for his own selfish delight. He wonders if you would like Kyle. He's surely the least fearsome of them.

"Ye know I'm military, aye?"

"Of course, I know." You answer, opening your eyes with slight confusion at the sudden change.

"Had a team. A good one." Johnny murmurs, his nose trailing along your temple as he presses a soft peck into your skin.

Your hand finds his hurting one, fingers holding onto him as you let yourself be swamped in his affection. There is that strange twirl again, in your chest, as his breath tickles your skin. Johnny groans your name, one palm slithering down your side as he nuzzles into your hips, finding that delicious swell of yours hidden in that traitorous pair of jeans.

You feel him, but don't comment on it. You've been rather daunting yourself and are too embarrassed to say anything about it, anyway. You don't dare to move, soft eyes following his every movement. Your nose presses into his cheekbone as you murmur his name, a soft melody that makes his heart stammer. It's reassuring how you let him take his time and gather his thoughts.

"Good lads, they are. Ye would love Garrick." He sighs before he offers you soft kisses, as much as he can muster gentleness in himself.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. He's the kind one."

You snort, remembering everything he did for you, and still do. If Garrick is the kind one, you wonder what Johnny is. You massage his fingers, passing your index on the edge of the cast as you relax into his hold. You can tell he's thinking about it. About them. There is a glint in his eyes when he does, between sadness and sorrow.

"Whatever it is, I'll be here when you're ready."

He huffs, how you always know what he needs, Johnny will never comprehend it. But you do anyway and give him what you do best, understanding and patience. His hand carefully pets your belly, finding that little expansion of flesh there that's so precious and places one last kiss on your cheek.

"Let's get som' food in ye, aye?"

"Mhm, I'm starvin'."

reblogs are appreciated!

@ archive-doll - all rights reserved. reposting or modifying, including translating or use on AI, is not permitted. original characters are not my own, but the stories and writing are.

line divider by cafekitsune

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Nanami Kento Relationship Headcanons

(Nanami through the phases)

Warnings: none. This post is SFW, and is mostly full of fluff.

Acquaintance (I'm just another face in the crowd)

• This isn't a love-at-first-sight type of situation. Romance is so far from his mind in general, and as far as he's concerned, it's off the table, no matter who it is.

• If you're another sorcerer, you're just another colleague - his only concern is whether or not you're competent. If you're a non-sorcerer, you're just another stranger in the world trying to make your way however you can. Nothing more.

• He treats you no different than any other person, with painful indifference and total professionalism. Short responses - no longer than is required to get a point across.

• Any time you'd try to have some form of friendly chat or banter with him, you're met with little more than a 'hm' or an ' I see' before he would return to what he was doing.

• His responses would only be a little longer if it pertained to work or if it were absolutely necessary.

Friend (If you slip and fall off-track - I'll carry you on my back)

• It took a long while to get to even this point with him, but he's less guarded around you - only a little. It's not that he doesn't trust you; it's just how he is with people. The difference is that when he asks about your day, he genuinely wants to know - it's no longer an obligatory means of the bare-minimum 'polite conversation between strangers/colleagues' type of situation.

• You're one of the few people he'll ask out for drinks after work. He's a good drinking partner, and he always tends to buy the first round. This is around the time you realize just how well he can hold his liquor. The man can drink like a fish, and it takes him an insane amount before he seems to show any subtle signs of inebriation. That being said, he's a pretty quiet drunk; he'll sway a bit more when he stands, and his ears/cheeks will turn a little redder, but he tends to stop before he even gets to that point.

• He has genuine respect for you (even if you're also a Jujutsu Sorcerer).

• You get to see him crack a small smile on occasion. Even though he's not typically one for jokes, you're one of the few people who make him chuckle.

• He knows how you take your coffee and/or tea (or what you prefer if you don't drink coffee or tea). If you're a colleague, he'll sometimes bring you something from the coffee shop if he'd happened to stop by to pick up a coffee for himself.

• (If you're a sorcerer) He trusts you to be able to handle yourself, and doesn't feel the need to babysit you on missions. He knows your style pretty well, and is able to adapt his own to better compliment yours if needed. Still, he's always looking out for you in his typical 'Nanami' way.

• (If you're not a sorcerer) He keeps an eye out for you when he happens to be around; making sure you're not stuck dealing with some unknown minor curse. If you do happen to catch the attention of a curse, he'll go out of his way to deal with it for you - though you'd never know it; he doesn't want to bring you into his messy world by telling you things you don't need to know.

• All in all, Nanami is a fiercely loyal friend. He has your back through anything and everything, even if that means giving you a scolding for doing something foolish.

Crush (I've got my eye on you)

• Once you catch his eye, he almost seems to become a little less talkative around you than he was before. At first, you're worried that you did something wrong.

• If anything, he's kind of in shock. These feelings just came out of nowhere for him, and he's not really sure how to handle it.

• He specifically did NOT want to be romantically involved with anyone while he's in this field of work. In fact, he's fully intending to keep his feelings to himself and just hoping that they go away over time, even if you're also in the same business of fighting curses.

• Any signs of affection are extremely subtle - almost imperceptible - but they are there.

• When he brings you your coffee/tea/etc. he now always pairs it with some sort of sticky note message. Nothing cutesy - just a simple 'have a good day' or 'stay safe.'

• When you're around each other, he seems to stand a little closer than usual - especially if it's crowded, he takes the opportunity to stick almost shoulder-to-shoulder with you (but he always says a quick 'apologies' when he does).

• You have your own ringtone and vibration pattern, now - though he hasn't brought it to anyone's attention; not even yours. Your ringtone changes from his usual default to something different so he can hear if it's specifically you contacting him. Your vibration tone is a subtle 'bzt-bzt' that he noticed sounded like a heartbeat. Whenever he hears that tone or that vibration, he tends to stop what he's doing to check his inbox.

• You've never noticed, but if someone seems to be eyeing you, be it a creep or just some would-be troublemaker, he's able to subtly put on that scary-dog aire which never fails to deter them from coming anywhere near you. In fact, one time, he happened to notice some creep was following you home after work while he was driving by, so he pulled over to the curb beside you and got out of his car to greet you. 'It's not safe to be out alone in this area this late. Let me drive you home.'

Before you can say anything, he's gently leading you to the passenger's side door, opening it for you to let you in before carefully closing it behind you. As he's moving around the car to get into the driver's seat, he's sure to flash a death glare to the stalker (and no one - and I mean NO ONE - can death glare like Nanami).

Once he's arrived at your place, he suggests carpooling with him after work. Even if you decline, he requests that you text him when you get home. Either way, this starts a trend of you two either carpooling home or texting each other most nights.

• You have noticed that his usual habit of buying the first round of drinks has turned into him picking up the entire tab basically every time.

• You are the only person that has ever seen this stoic man flustered. The first time you saw him remove his glasses, you complimented the amber colour of his eyes. He cleared his throat and scratched the bridge if his nose, flushing with a 'thank you.' You heard from Gojo later that day that Nanami seemed to be in a better mood than usual for the rest of the day.

• He actually compliments you, now - and not just for work-related things. He keeps it simple, but one day he notices you'd changed something small - maybe the way you parted your hair, the way you did your makeup, maybe you shaved, or he noticed the perfume/cologne you were wearing, maybe a new accessory you bought - and he makes a point to say something (ie; 'Ah, you changed your hair part. It looks good.')

Dating (What would happen if we kissed? Would your tongue slip past my lips?)

• This was not what Nanami was intending to happen. You either had to make the first move, or once you noticed the hints he was unintentionally dropping, you practically had to pull it out of him. He was convinced, without the shadow of a doubt, that his feelings were completely one-sided.

• If by some chance he were the one to make the first move, however, he had originally decided to confess to you in hopes that his feelings would pass once you'd inevitably turned him down. You could imagine his surprise when you returned his feelings. He decided it would be best to take you out for lunch at a coffee shop you both liked to frequent. After you'd taken your seats, you noticed that he seemed nervous. That's when he tells you.

• Either way, once you both decide to start a relationship, he turns out to be a textbook-perfect boyfriend. He holds doors open, buys you gifts, plans great dates, gives great massages, and he's a shockingly good kisser. He's also unsurprisingly great at communication; he likes to talk things out, and is very solutions-oriented, so the two of you may disagree on occasion, but you rarely 'fight.'

• His only real failing as a boyfriend (at least early on in the relationship) has everything to do with his habit of being a workaholic. It can be hard to make time to spend time together outside of work, and when you do, he's often rather tired, though he tries not to show it.

• You two didn't share an official 'first kiss' until the end of the third date. You'd hugged, held hands, cuddled, and you'd both even come close to kissing a couple times, but neither of you wanted to make the other feel rushed or uncomfortable. He'd kissed your hand, fingers and forehead before, but at the end of your third date, as he was dropping you off at your place, he asked you to wait a moment before getting out of his car. He started to lean forward and gently slipped a hand on your jawline, holding intense eye contact for a moment before asking if it would be alright for him to kiss you. You basically just managed to get a 'yes' out and his lips were on yours in the blink of an eye - as if he'd been unable to think of anything else for his entire life. All too soon, he pulled away an inch, letting out a deep sigh of relief. He drifted his thumb gently over your bottom lip and smiled. 'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.'

• He seems to exhibit many forms of the love languages, but his most prominent are acts of service, gift giving, and physical touch.

Long-Term (Come with me, my love, to the sea - the sea of love)

• Nanami always enjoys his dates with you, regardless of what you're doing, but he specifically loves dates where the two of you get to learn something together. Taking classes, be they painting, cooking, dancing, learning a language, etc. he finds them to be the most interesting.

• Nanami asked you to move in with him about a year into your relationship. The first day you came 'home' after work, he'd made a point of being there first so he could set up a 'welcome home' banner and prepare a nice in-home date night for the two of you.

• Coming home to you is easily the highlight of most of his days. His favourite post-work ritual is to slide off his tie, unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, and to fall into you to cuddle on the couch together.

• He loves when you read books out loud while he's curled up with you, feeling your fingers running through his hair. It never fails to put him at ease.

• After having taken many cooking classes together, the two of you can flawlessly work around each other in the kitchen - something many couples seem to struggle with.

• It was about 3 years into your relationship when you realized he has a shockingly nice singing voice that he rarely uses. One evening, the two of you were slow-dancing in the living room when he started humming a song in a low, smooth tone that took you by surprise.

• Nanami's always had pretty good fashion sense, but he enjoys coordinating his outfits with yours, and low-key revels in getting to show you off a little when you're out together.

• He never forgets anniversaries - ever. He remembers that during your first anniversary, you bought him a midnight blue silk tie with a simple wave pattern that he adores, and makes sure to wear every anniversary without fail.

Married (After all this time, I'm still into you)

• The two of you take at least a one week long vacation together every year; but for your 5th anniversary, he pulled out all the stops. We're talking a first-class flight to a private villa by the sea with a balcony and an ocean view that boasted some of the most incredible sunsets imaginable. After spending the week getting absolutely pampered with amazing meals, couples massages, and anything under the sun that the two of you wanted to do, he presented you with an envelope.

You opened it to see that he had purchased the ocean villa so the two of you could come back any time you wanted; but that's not all.

He had signed it under both his name, and under a 'Mrs. Nanami Kento.' You looked at him in shock as he rose to his feet and dropped down on one knee beside you to offer you a ring with your favourite stone.

• The wedding was, in a word, perfect. He had a blast planning it with you, and the entire event went off without a single hitch. It was small, beautiful, elegant, intimate, and perfect for both of you. You like to joke that the two of you had a future in event planning if Jujutsu Sorcery stopped being an option.

• It's not long before he (and you, if you were also a sorcerer) decide to retire from Jujutsu Sorcery to open your own business together - be it event planning, a restaurant, a bakery, etc. which goes on to be incredibly successful.

• This man never stops trying to win your heart. Even decades into your marriage, he's always trying to find new ways to charm you and sweep you off your feet.

[girasollake]

Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.

She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date

Thank youuu!

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x

told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it

i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.

‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’

‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’

¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.

‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.

‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’

‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.

SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’

You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.

‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.

‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.

You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.

‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘I have a question.’

‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘

‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’

‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’

‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.

Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.

‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.

‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.

‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’

‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.

‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.

‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.

‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’

‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.

His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.

He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.

‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’

‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.

‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’

The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.

He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.

He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.

‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.

‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.

‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’

‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.

‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.

You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.

Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.

He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.

‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.

His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.

‘I lied.’ You mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’

‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’

‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’

‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’

‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’

‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

@ girasollake 2024

[youronebraincell]

I just know that Sofia uses sex as a grounding technique. The only way she can truly calm down is being skin to skin with her girlfriend. Kissing her, looking deep in her eyes. Generally being very possessive and close to her. She’d be very verbal and talkative during sex. Talking about how stressful her day was, how she’s feeling, her fears, her worries. They’re all laid bare into her woman’s bare skin until it all washes away and all she can think about is the angel kissing her and telling her it’s all going to be okay. That she’s here and she’s never leaving Sofia

Sofia and me

Sofia Gigante x Fem!Reader

Warning: spoilers for the first five episodes of The Penguin, angst, implied homophobia, mild fluff, reference torture/abuse, smut, spit as lube, strap-on, rough sex, masturbation, minor voyeurism, sustaining injury, possessiveness, floor sex, tribbing, cunnilingus

Word count: 2915

Sofia comes home.

Though she kept it well-hidden, Sofia was extremely anxious most if not all of the time. With the stress of the foundation and being the daughter of mob boss Carmine Falcone, you were the only thing that kept her sane.

Then she got sent to Arkham.

You didn’t see or talk to her for over a decade, but not for the lack of trying. Carmine forbade you from going to Arkham by ‘kindly suggesting’ that Sofia take this time away to work on herself until she’s all better. It didn’t surprise you.

He had never approved of your.. close relationship with his only known daughter.

But then he passed away.

You and Alberto were able to file for an appeal for Sofia’s release. The judge that previously handled her case was found unresponsive in his chambers a week before Carmine’s death.

You saw this as an opportunity to get a new judge, someone who wasn’t on Carmine’s payroll, to review the case. It didn’t take long before Sofia was exonerated and released back into society.

Sofia was different.

The light in her eyes had dimmed. Her smile, once so bright and blinding, had become faint and bittersweet. Every response, every move she made seemed premeditated.

Sofia stayed at your place. You didn’t think it would be good for her to go back to the Mansion so soon. To your surprise, Alberto agreed.

You didn’t mind that he stuck you with two of his guards stationed outside of your apartment in the process. All that mattered was that you had Sofia.

You gave her space even though it was the last thing you wanted. Sofia must’ve had the same thought because on her first night in your apartment, you awoke to the sound of her settling beside you on your worn-out couch, her breath soft and even against your neck. She kept her hands to herself. You did the same.

Yet when morning came, her arm was draped over your waist and your hand was close to her chest. When your eyes fluttered open, you saw big brown eyes staring right at you.

“You still snore.”

You let out a laugh.

The corner of her mouth tugged upward into a smile. It was small, but you didn’t care.

It was progress.

But then.. then Alberto died.

Sofia completely unraveled. She moved back into the Mansion and took you with her.

You watched as the family, especially that fuck Johnny, sidelined her, treating her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience instead of the only living Heir to the Falcone empire.

(Un)fortunately for you, this caused sex with Sofia to improve greatly. Not that it wasn’t already out of this world before, but it was different. It was like she had something to prove now and she had to do so by working her fingers inside of your wet cunt, her teeth grazing against your collarbone.

You were the outlet for her frustration.

Like now at her brother’s memorial.

It didn’t matter where you were. She’d pull you aside, find somewhere private and then eat you out or fingerfuck you to the brink of insanity while ranting to you about whatever asshole or shitty situation upset her this time.

When you came for the second or third time, your legs a little shaky, she cleaned her fingers with her lips and tongue. She held your gaze as she proceeded to wipe them on your dress.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

You were rewarded with a chaste kiss on the lips before she told you to clean yourself up and meet her back inside. You didn’t care that she made you feel like a whore when she left.

You were hers. Solely and unconditionally, hers.

If a whore was what Sofia wanted,

then a whore you would be.

You were reading a book late in the night as you waited for Sofia to come to bed when the double doors were thrown open, startling you and making you drop your book in your lap.

Sofia closed the doors behind her and made her way over to you, her heels clacking against the polished wooden floor. “Take off your clothes.”

You stare at her, your mouth slightly agape.

“Now, Y/N!”

You closed the book and set it on your nightstand before pulling your shirt over your head and lifting your hips to take off your panties.

You were more than a little concerned, but also really turned on by your girlfriend’s commanding tone. A gush of wetness left your cunt as you thought about what she was gonna do to you.

Sofia took off her dress, her bra and panties following soon after. She let her hair down and opened the walk-in closet.

When she came out, she looked down as she adjusted the harness of the strap-on around her waist. A black dildo stood out between her legs.

Your jaw dropped as you marvelled at the size.

Sofia eyed you with a hint of irritation as she walked towards you on the bed. “Close your mouth. I won’t be needing that tonight.”

You closed your mouth.

You moved to sit in the middle of the bed before spreading your legs. Sofia was on you in a matter of seconds, her mouth ravishing yours as she laid you down. Her hand slithered down to see if you were wet enough. She pulled away, breaking the kiss. She watched your reaction as she slipped her middle finger into your cunt.

You tried to suppress a groan, but she noticed.

“Don’t do that. I need to know if I’m hurting you.”

She spat into her hand and rubbed her spit along her length before pressing the tip against your entrance. You shivered with want.

She spread your lower lips with her fingers. Her eyes never left your face as she pushed her cock inside of you, watching every microexpression from the furrow of your brows to the slight tremble of your bottom lip. It was bigger than the dildos she used on you in the past. This one was stretching you out in a way that was almost too much for you to handle. Almost.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding when she bottomed out. She gave you a moment to get adjusted to her size.

You put your hand on her shoulder, but quickly pulled it away when you touched her scars.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt me.”

You looked up at her.

“Go on.”

Hesitantly, you brought your hand up to her shoulder. You grabbed onto it. You brushed the pad of your thumb along her scars in a back and forth motion, a frown forming your lips. “I’m sorry..”

“No. None of that, okay? The past is in the past.”

Still, your jaw clenched at the torture and abuse Sofia was subjected to at the hands of her father.

It relaxed as you let out a surprised gasp when Sofia pulled back and thrusted her hips forward.

She spent the rest of the night and better part of the morning fucking into you with reckless abandon as your velvety walls clenched around her faux cock orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

From what she was saying, the family wanted to send her away to Italy. Assholes.

Then there was something about her being suspicious of Oz..

It was hard for you to keep up as she fucked you well within an inch of your life.

Sofia seemed content with the barely coherent hums you gave her every now and then.

You dragged your nails down her back when you came for the umpteenth time. You hid your face in the crook of her neck, whimpering as another orgasm washed over you like a crashing wave.

You heard her panting lightly next to your head.

You felt raw and empty when she wordlessly pulled her cock out of you. Your walls clenched around nothing, immediately missing the warmth and stretch that the toy provided.

You tried to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling as you laid sprawled out on the bed.

You closed your eyes.

When you opened them, you turned your head towards the sound of uneven breathing and saw Sofia masturbating, the strap-on long abandoned. Her eyes were glued to the ceiling like she was planning something in her head.

You turned to lie on your side so you could watch.

Her neck strained when she tilted her chin up. You could tell she was close. She inhaled sharply and suppressed a groan when she came, her eyes still trained on the ceiling. She breathed out.

Then she turned to look at you.

Your fingers danced on her upper arm, slowly making their way to her face. You tapped her temple. “What’re you thinking?”

“You need to go to a hotel for a couple days.”

You brushed the end of her brow. “Okay.”

You didn’t question her. You never did.

Sofia smiled and took your hand from her face to press a gentle kiss to your palm.

“Grazie, bella.”

She set you up in a hotel suite just outside of Gotham with one simple instruction: don’t leave the room. Two guards were stationed outside to make sure you didn’t defy her.

On one of those mornings while you were eating a breakfast sandwich in bed, you saw the news of what happened at the Falcone Mansion.

You saw Sofia talking to Chief Mackenzie just outside the Mansion before going in. The camera panned to Gia being taken away in a beige van.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

You jump out of bed and put on a shirt and some sweats before opening the front door.

One of the guards, a tan woman about an inch or two taller than you, stepped in front of you.

“Get out of my way.”

“I have direct orders to keep you here, ma’am.”

“I don’t care. I need to see Sofia.”

You tried to move past her, but she continued to block your path. The other guard didn’t bother stepping in. His phone rang. “Shit. It’s the wife.”

“Go. I got this.”

The man walked away from the suite, his receding footsteps growing quieter and quieter. The woman made sure he was out of sight before pushing you back into the suite by force.

You stumbled backwards and fell flat on your ass. The back of your head made contact with the edge of the footboard. You cried out in pain.

The guard didn’t seem to care. “You will stay here until Miss Falcone says otherwise.”

She left you on the floor, the door slamming shut behind her as she made her exit.

You stood up and went to the fridge to get something cold for your head. You take a soda can from the back of the fridge and press it against the bump forming on your head. You wince when the cool metal touches your scalp.

A few hours later, the woman came in unannounced to tell you they’ll be taking you back to the Mansion. She handed you some painkillers. “For your head.”

You stared at her, your eyes ablaze with fury.

Much to your irritation, she cracked a smile. “We leave in ten. That should give you enough time to look.. presentable for Miss Falcone.”

Your nostrils flared as she left. Bitch.

You put on an emerald green, one-shoulder evening dress. You contemplated putting your hair in a bun, but decided against it last minute.

You didn’t need Sofia asking questions.

The drive to the Mansion was spent in silence.

When you arrived, you walked behind the guards and entered what you called ‘The War Room.’

Sofia was standing at the head of the table with Johnny sitting on her right. You watched in awe as she spoke. You hung on to every word.

Johnny told her to take it easy.

You rolled your eyes.

You flinched when she shot him in the head.

Silence enveloped the room.

She blew a raspberry then continued speaking as if nothing had happened. She opened a duffel bag and dumped stacks and stacks of cash onto the table. Nobody dared to move. Not even when she urged them to take what’s rightfully theirs.

“Come on, guys,” You said with a smile, sauntering over to your girlfriend. “Dig in.”

Sofia wrapped an arm around your waist. “You heard her, ladies and gentlemen. Have your fill.”

Two dozen greedy hands reached out to grab what they could before it was all gone.

“Not you.”

The woman who kept guard at the hotel froze, her body bent over slightly on the table.

“Put it back.”

The woman emptied her pockets and put the stacks back on the table.

“Everyone else, continue.”

The table was cleared in seconds.

Sofia’s eyes never left the woman standing across from her with her fists clenched at her sides. “You hurt the woman I love when you were supposed to be protecting her. I can’t let that stand.”

The woman swallowed nervously.

“Since you were such a loyal soldier to my father, I will give you the benefit of a doubt and let you leave with your head still attached to your body.”

The woman didn’t need to be told twice.

She turned on her heel and left the room.

Sofia’s grip on your waist tightened, her fingers digging into the fabric of your dress hard enough to bruise the covered skin that lay underneath.

“First person to kill her gets ten grand.”

The two of you didn’t witness the chaos that erupted as you left the room beforehand.

She took you into her father’s study and closed the doors. Her eyes raked over your face. “You weren’t gonna tell me.”

You pursed your lips. “I was being difficult. She was just.. doing her job.”

She reached behind you to asses the damage that had been done to the back of your head. Her heart ached at the bump she felt. “Hurting you is not one of the requirements.”

She pulled her hand away when you winced.

You looked at her.

“You killed your family.”

“I did.”

“You orphaned Gia.”

Sofia pressed her lips together. “I did.”

“Did it feel good?”

“Yes. It did.”

You threw yourself onto Sofia, surprising her for a split second before her surprise morphed into something else. Something more inviting.

You found yourself lying on your back in front of the lit fireplace. Clothes were literally torn off and ripped apart by Sofia’s needy hands.

You moaned into her mouth as you grinded your cunts together, sloppily and unrestrained. Your hardened nipples rubbed against hers. Your tongue submitted to hers as they danced inside your mouth to a rhythm only the two of you knew.

She bit your bottom lip when you reached down and cupped her ass, urging her on. You welcomed the taste of your own blood on your tongue.

A thick strand of saliva connected your lips together when she broke the kiss.

“You’re so gorgeous when you’re like this, bella;”

Sofia leaned down to nip at your earlobe.

“Spent, barely hanging on,”

Her tongue licked the shell of your ear.

“But begging for more.”

She kissed you again. You both orgasmed simultaneously, moaning into each other’s mouths while getting down from your highs, your hips bucking wantonly to chase after each other.

When you broke apart for air, you pushed her down so she was the one lying on her back.

“I haven’t seen you in days,” You said as you made your way down her body. You stop inches away from her cunt. “Care to bring me up to speed while I eat you out, Miss Gigante?”

Sofia loved the way her new name rolled of your tongue. “Only if you put that tongue to good use.”

“Don’t I always?”

You ate out Sofia as she told you what you had missed, your mouth and tongue working overtime to satisfy the woman you loved.

Oz betrayed her (surprise, surprise), Julian ‘saved’ her after the Maronis ambushed her and then she killed him before killing the Falcones.

You listened intently to each and every word.

Your bodies were covered in thick layers of sweat by the time the two of you were finished.

You had your head on her chest. You drew meaningless patterns on her arm and stomach while her fingers played with your hair.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You looked up at her. “For what?”

“Everything, I suppose” She looked deep into your eyes. “You could’ve abandoned me a handful of times, but you didn’t. Which is more than I could say for my family. May they rest in peace.”

You tried not to smile at that.

“Now that Berto’s gone, you’re all I have.”

She cupped your left cheek, her thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth.

“I love you. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. Hopefully, I’ll never have to find out.”

You weren’t stupid. There was an underlying threat to her words. Of course there was.

There was no forgetting what Sofia was. Even when you were putty in her arms like you are now, you knew what she was capable of when crossed.

Still, you gave her a genuine smile. “I love you too. Even if you accuse me of snoring which I don’t.”

Sofia let out a loud laugh.

You caved three seconds in and laughed with her.

[ladybyakuya]

| SIDE EFFECTS + SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

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

+wc. — 1.2k 

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

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

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

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

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

However, crest-fallen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. ‘course. Why wouldn’t I?”

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

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

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

“Kiyo!”

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

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

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

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

[bouquetface]

Astro Observations 5

ACCURACY BASED ON ENTIRE CHART. Looking at only one placement can only give general/surface level info.

💜 Scorpio moon can have a karmic relationship with women in general. They can have resentment and jealously for other women - although in their younger years they are reluctant to acknowledge this. There is a sub conscious/silent competition for power. Possible examples: Needing to be the most liked gf in your bf's friend group. Needing to be the most liked daughter-in-law your husband's family. However, this is not always the case.

Scorpio moon in a man's chart, I have noticed the above traits are seen in the mom. Their mom might share traits with the stereotypical boy mom. However, when the scorpio moon is placed in 7th house, I have seen these traits be less problematic. In 7th, there is almost a balance, the mom is deeply protective and involved with the child’s relationships but without being controlling. Rather, she may just like to be informed. Now whether, the child will submit the mother’s wishes depends on the child.

🧩 Virgo rising are ruled by mercury. They naturally want information. They’re good at researching & analyzing. They’ll try to get as much info as possible.

Virgo placements mixed with scorpio can create the best detective or stalker. EX: My virgo rising, scorpio sun friend stays updated on all her exes, her friend's exes even exes of her family members. She even has random info on the live's of people she barely talked to from her hometown.

☀️ All the eldest siblings I know almost always have prominent cap placements - cap sun or moon most often seen in my experience.

🧩 Middle & youngest children often have a prominent pisces or aqua placement. However, this won’t always be accurate. It’s just something I’ve noticed in the chart’s of people I know.

🍂 My cousin whose birth was a surprise was an Aqua sun. Aqua’s modern ruler Uranus is connected to themes of shock & sudden surprises.

❣️My cousin whose mom had several miscarriages before her birth is a scorpio sun. Scorpio is connected to taboo topics & endings.

🍎 My friend whose birth prompted her parent’s to move abroad is a sag sun. After her birth, they felt the need for a fresh start away from their own toxic families to start a new one. Sag is connected with themes of travel.

🌊 Neptune square ASC or First house ruler can be the worst. People make bullshit assumptions about you immediately. I’ve noticed most people with prominent & harsh neptune in their chart often have prominent aqua or pisces placements. You can need that ability to detach & shut out the outside world to handle the things people falsely believe about you.

🧩 7th House ruler in 1st House can indicate partnerships (romantic, platonic or business) want control of you & your image. You may encounter relationships with controlling & aggressive people. However, you may like people that take control for you.

🍎 Mars in 1st house & Mars in 10th can be a dangerous placement. You become a target for insecure men & women. They see the power you hold and sub consciously wish to take it away from you. The same can be seen in those with mars square or opposite asc. Certain people will want to compete with you.

mars in 1st may deal with physical abuse in relationships. This is an extreme though. For most, you encounter people who belittle you. People challenge your power & confidence.

🌙 Moon in 4th can manifest as having more femininity in the home. The number of girls could outnumber the boys in the home. You could have more sisters than brothers. Or you end up having more daughters than son.

❤️‍🔥 In my mom's chart she has asteroid child (4580) in sag conjunct neptune. My sun is in sag & my younger brother's sun is in pisces. However, rarely do I see the asteroid being this accurate. Sometimes, the sign of child can be more how you view the child rather than the actual sign of the child.

🧿 Groom (5129) conjunct Moon can give a spouse who takes on a traditional feminine role. The positive outcome would be a family orientated spouse who is very nurturing - ex: enjoys cooking, enjoys house work like painting, mowing the lawn, etc. They enjoy taking care of the home and family.

If harshly aspected, I have seen this as a women's husband refusing to work and provide for their family in any way. He became very lazy after marriage. He threatened she'd have to pay him alimony. Chiron was near her Groom conjunct Moon in Aries.

❤️‍🔥 Fama in 7th H - 7th H isn’t limited to spouse & friendships. It can show business partnerships & clients. I have this in my chart & I worked for a notable influencer. They aren’t A list or anything too extreme, she does have a fan base & make money through her social media though.

🩻 I’ve noticed doctors, nurses & vets often have prominent influence in 8th & 6th house. Most common: 2nd or 10th ruler in 8th or 6th H. You will see people at their most vulnerable, investigate & find/keep secrets about their health (8th H) and offer service (6th H).

🌙 Tropical Pisces Moon / Sidereel Aqua Moons tend to develop the habit of avoiding their emotions. They escape through daydreams, music, books or films. They can feel their own emotions through the character. It can feel safer that way.

& this placement can struggle with the inability to cry for months (maybe even years). They don’t properly process the situation until months or even years later. When it becomes too heavy to hold back, they can cry a lot. Randomly tearing up through the day, crying themselves to sleep.

[sarawritestories]

You're On Your Own Kid, You Always Have Been

Cassian X Fem Reader

Summary: Starting off your relationship when you were young, you and Cassian lived for centuries, in a happy, loving, relationship, that is until Nesta Archeron swept the General off his feet and left you abandoned his friends you thought were yours, following the new mated couple. You were utterly alone with nothing but a shattered heart to show for it.

Dedicated to @thelov3lybookworm, who encouraged me to write this! Buckle up! You're in for a treat!

Content Warning: Disordered eating, the IC being absolutely terrible, abandonment, feelings of worthlessness, feeling alone and lost, no happy ending for mentioned pairing. Let me know if I missed any.

If you see mistakes... no you didn't.

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

🖤🖤🖤

You looked at your reflection for the first time in months. You barely recognized yourself anymore. Your cheeks and eyes were sunken, your ribs were protruding, and your skin held an ashy undertone that wasn't there before.

This is what abandonment looked like.

Longing stares never returned, his hand adjusting to evade your touch. A bed is left cold on one side. Friends who once joined you in joyous laughter barely acknowledge you at dinner. You had become a disease that no one knew how to handle but would be relieved if you disappeared.

It hadn't always been this way.

Warm calloused hands holding you close the scent of leather and sandalwood surrounding you. Cassian nibbling your ear, or stealing you away during meetings to steal a kiss, maybe two. Dinners at the rainbow, watching a storm roll through Velaris in the comfort of your balcony and his arms.

The early days of your relationship consisted of stolen kisses, discussions of hopes and dreams, that as centuries went by, morphed into talks of building a future a family. He was your person, and you were his, and life seemed bright.

Until you weren't.

Nesta Archeron was not a female to compete with. And how could you? She was elegant and sharp, and she was beautiful. She also challenged Cassian, fighting back with that quick, sharp tongue of hers, ways you never did. Then you felt it before he did, the shift, the snap. He had found his mate.

It wasn't you.

And the heartbreak of that fact would have been fine had Cassian consoled you in any way. When you needed his comfort and touch most. He was gone. He first stopped coming to bed, and when he did, he turned and faced away from you. The action alone made you feel like he was doing it as a chore, not because he found comfort in your warmth. Maybe he even thought he was being kind. It just deepened the wound festering in your soul.

Next was his things, books went missing, then his weapons. It was when you walked in on the Illyrian packing his things that he confronted you. "She needs me, sweetheart. I can not abandon my mate."

But I can abandon you.

A hand on your shoulder was the only comfort you received. His face held no remorse for the pain he was putting you through. You cried in your bathroom it wasn't until the next morning when you were in the same position the cool tile kissing your skin that you realized you had fallen asleep. You didn't leave your room for days, and no one came in to check on you. Not a single knock. Turns out you were only worth loving so long as Cassian did.

And he didn't. He had Nesta.

You had no one.

You were beginning to sink to a dark, inky place, the wound in your heart growing with infection, and your heartbreak was turning into rage. The feeling scared you. You ran to the one person you thought would be able to help you.

The High Lord of the Night Court.

You knocked lightly on his door. "Come in." His tone short. You walked in, not letting yourself think too hard about how busy he must be. He didn't even raise his head when he said, "I've been wondering when you would come visit." He leaned back in his chair, violet eyes, meeting yours. "Please sit."

You sat at the seat in front of him and took a deep breath. "So you know why I'm here?"

"Cassian and Nesta?" He quirked a brow, and you nodded he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. As if you were a hindrance in his life. Kind, loving, Rhysand, even found your presence as an inconvenience. "What would you like me to say, Darling? They are mates they are allowed to be together."

You dug your nails into your palms, trying to reign in the rage. "So you're okay with him not even saying two words to me since they met?" Your voice began to rise in volume, "He tried packing his things in times I wouldn't be home so he could avoid talking to me." Your rose from your seat and Rhysand stilled as lights flickered around you that you failed to notice. "You all act like I'm not apart of this family anymore. I could dissappear tomorrow and no one would care if you even noticed at all."

"So leave." The lights snuffed out completely. You thought it was Rhysand's power never once, considering it might be your own that had laid dormant for centuries. Or that said power stirred something deep in the realm where a manor resides on a lake. You could only focus on Rhysand's words and the cold tone he said them.

He was no longer your friend. He was your High Lord. Nothing more.

"Well. I won't stay where I'm not wanted. I would have thought a relationship that had lasted centuries deserved him, at least telling me he wanted to try with Nesta." Tears were falling and you didn't stop them, "I wouldn't have fucking stopped him. I would have been happy for him. He didn't say a word. He took the cowards way out. You all did."

"I'm sorry, Darling." Rhysand didn't mean it. The smirk on his face said it all.

You turned and walked away, pausing at the door. "No. You're not. But one day you will be." And you stormed out. Not bothering to grab your belongings, you didn't need the reminder of the court of dreamers casting you aside as if you were their personal nightmare. Not interested in speaking with anyone. They weren't interested in stopping you from leaving.

You. Were. Done.

🖤🖤🖤

You walked for hours, your feet were sore, back drenched in sweat the most you had done in months, since Cassian didn't care if you had shown up for training or not. Needing rest, you found a tree to lean against. The sun began to set, and you were ready to give up. Let the beast of the forest consume you whole. If you died, then maybe the ache in your chest would cease and you could be free again. Whole again.

You again.

You sipped from your canteen when you heard humming. Your pointed ears perked as a hunched over woman approached you. You recognized her from Rhysand, projecting Nesta's memories into your head. For extra torture, he had "accidentally sent a memory of Cassian pleasuring Nesta," You had sobbed profusely that night. "Briallyn." You whispered.

The crone stopped in her tracks. She turned to you, your eyes locked on one another, and you couldn't help but relate to her. She wanted a better life for herself, only to be thrown in the cauldron and spat back out. Both of you former shells of what you used to be. "My my, you look positively dreadful."

You snorted, "So do you."

She laughed, "What brings you out here alone? That brute finally get sick of you?"

You sharply inhaled a breath at the question. "He did, actually. I am doomed to wander these lands courtless," If you even lasted the night.

Briallyn waved her hand in dismissal, her now aged hand grabbing your too frail hand. "Not all who wander are lost, dear. I was asked by a friend to retrieve you."

"Who is your friend?"

"Someone who has a special interest in you my dear." And the Human Queen turned Crone led you from the forest further from the town you once called home and the only thing on your mind?

It was nice to be holding someone's hand.

🖤🖤🖤

The throne room was dark and cold, as if death itself resided here. The only vibrant color here was the Phoenix that was in her cage, pulling to break free.

Vassa was here.

Briallyn squeezed your hand, and you felt comfort by the warmth of her touch. As you approached the male on the dais. He looked young, and you gasped as his beauty was beyond compare. The most beautiful male you have ever seen. And then he grinned, and your heart fluttered. The General of the Night Court long forgotten as you stared in the males cold eyes. Briallyn bowed, tugging your hand as you made to do so too.

"No, need to bow, Pet." You paused, straightening your posture once more. "Do you know who I am?"

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat. "You go by many names. Old god, death lord, most call you Koschei." Your voice held a tremor as you were in the presence of a powerful being. A being whose brother once went toe to toe with the Lord of Bloodshed and almost killed him.

Koschei nodded, "Come closer, let me take a look at you." You looked to the former Human Queen in panic, afraid to lose her touch. "I promise I don't bite." You approached the dais and couldn't help the trembling convulsing through your body. The death of the Lord's dark eyes roamed your body. He rubbed his angular jaw, and your eyes met his lips as he tucked the lower one behind his teeth.

Beautiful, he was absolutely breathtaking.

His voice broke you from the trance like state. "My dear, someone has hurt you? What did they do to you?" He leaned forward, grabbing your hand and placing a light kiss on your knuckles. Tears brimmed your eyes. When was the last time someone harbored any affection toward you. "Tell me, sweet girl." Another kiss and your composure broke. You fell to your knees, and a matter of hours went into painstaking detail of how the Night Court had abandoned you. When you finished, there was a lightness in your chest.

Maybe there was hope.

"Oh, you poor thing." Koschei cooed, tilting your chin to meet his cold eyes, "If I had you, I wouldn't let you go so easily." He wiped the stray tears from your face. "Be mine, and never feel that pain again."

You lip wobbled as the cries of the Phoenix caged beside the old god broke your attention, the shrieks louder than before. Koschei gripped your chin and had you facing him once more, his face inching forward. His lips pressed yours, gentle and promised warmth, love, power. You felt as though he was breathing life back into you, and you relished in his lips touching yours. He pulled away, "What do you say, Little One?" A voice in the back of your mind screamed:

Right

Right

Right

You smiled for the first time in well over a year,"I want to be yours, Koschei." Magic thrummed around you as his smile turned sinister, gold chains clamping to your wrist, a collar latched around your neck. Scantily clad in a black sheer tip, only covering your breast and a skirt that barely covered your ass.

Koschei smirked as he gripped your waist and placed you on his lap. "What a formidable pair we shall be, my pet." Making a onyx crown and a matching ring appear, he gently placed the crown atop of your head, sliding the ring on your finger. You admired the ring, a small smile on your face, and something pulled at your chest at the thought:

He was claiming you. And you loved it.

Looking at the beautiful face of death and pressing your lips to his, ignoring the rattling of the former human queen beside you. You adjusted yourself, so you were straddling his lap. You opened your mouth for him, and he accepted. His hand gripped your ass as your kisses became tongues and teeth clashing. You forgot what this felt like. To be held to be kissed with such passion.

To simply be wanted.

"My Queen of Darkness." He murmured, threading his fingers through your hair, "You don't even know how powerful you are." He yanked your hair, and you moaned. "I'll show you." He bit down on the tender flesh connecting your collar bone to your neck, and you moan as his hand gripped your breast. "You magnificent creature." You smiled at the sky.

This is what being worshipped felt like.

Snap

Koschei paused, removing his hand from your pert nipple he slide his hand to the back of your neck. Love and adoration in his eyes, lips swollen, "Tell me, as you are to me my bride. What gift shall I get you for our ceremony?"

What did you want?

You smiled Koschei, noticing the mischievous glint in your eye. "The General of the Night Court's Armies and his Little Lady of Death here chained like the dogs they are."

Koschei brought your face down to his. His mouth lingering over yours, "Anything for my Cruel, Beautiful, Mate." The gold thread wrapped around your heart tying you to him as he crashed your lips onto him.

Not even caring that Vassa had broken free from her cage and soared to the Human Realms.

To be continued?

[socksdoeswrites]

can you write more about bllk? I saw your other work like it and i agree with there needing to be more bllk content!

a/n: oh my goodness, i know right? like, show my soccer boys some love! i can most definitely write more about that fandom! is there anything in specific that you would like to see? i have some ideas for what else to write about, soooo, i suppose i'll share a lil sum sum with you, anon! (and everyone else, silly!!) i just want to say thank you all so much for truly liking my work! i have received so many nice things, and i can't put into words how adorable you guys are!! it means the absolute world to me:)). as alwaysss, i hope you all enjoy!!!

contents: angst (just a taddd), fluff, oneshot, gn! reader, sae being a silly lil guy, pro player! sae itoshi, breakup!! (dw tho:))), just a little something to get more ideas flowin, if i missed anything please let me know!! <3

paring: sae itoshi x gn!reader

word count: 1.0k (sum small, sum cute xoxo)

what a charmer

“i really do love you,” 

his voice struck a chord in your heart.

“but you know soccer is important to me. i can’t have a distraction.” 

oh.

oh.

that’s what he saw you as? a distraction? the man that you loved for years was telling you something you couldn’t believe. you didn’t want to believe. sae itoshi saw his loving partner as nothing more than a mere stepping stone.

you didn’t know what to say. moreover how to say it. you stared up at the person you had pursued for so many years, and could barely recognize him. it made you feel sick looking at his emotionless expression. you couldn’t read him like you used to. 

you couldn’t do much of anything anymore. your relationship was rocky ever since he started focusing more and more on his career. which you loved. he was so passionate and happy about his work that you felt it radiate off him. seeing his games, and him working so hard for something he’s tried so hard for made you have butterflies.

that was until he had completely squashed those fuzzy little creatures. it felt as if he had no remorse for anything he had said. he had already made his mind up, and deep down you knew there was no changing it. you cursed yourself for feeling tears prickle your eyes, and that burn in your throat as if you downed a whole bottle of whiskey. you never thought it’d be this brutal with a few simple words. 

you didn’t give his change in demeanor much of a second glance. turning on your heel and walking away from him. you had to be away from him. it was the only way you could handle anything in this moment. the subtle call of your name was echoing around your mind. 

you didn’t turn around. deciding it was better that way. frankly, you didn’t stop until you miraculously ended up in front of your apartment door. opening the dark burgundy oak door, you looked around the dark atmosphere. it smelled of your late boyfriends cologne. 

it hit you like a semi truck. dropping to your knees and screaming into your hands. the screams turned into painful weeps, as you struggled to catch your breath. the weeps became nothing more than a shuddering in your chest. 

you slept in that very spot that night. 

to say the following days were a tiny bit better would be a lie. you spent your days in a trance of despair and guilt. trying your hardest to come up with some sort of solution to this. but nothing ever came. the harder you thought about what you could’ve done differently, the harder you found it to not cry. 

fellow companions saw the troubles you were going through, and saw how difficult it was for you to go through day to day. so, why not invite you on a little evening out? 

you debated going in general. why go see a soccer game when a soccer player just broke your heart? but you digress. it got you out of the house.

you sat quietly observing the field. two teams, eleven players. one set of uniforms colored a nice darkish blue color. the other being white, and to your absolute horror, the man you still found yourself having feelings for wore that very white uniform. 

it had been quite some time since you saw him last. but who’s counting? you tuned out the screaming matches between each side, and focused closely on his and everyone else’s moves. sure, you didn’t know much about soccer, but you could tell when there was improvement, and sae was full of it. 

to you his talent needed no tweaking. it’s like he was genuinely made for this sport, and it showed. the only time you took your watery eyes off the pink haired man, was to see who he was competing against. his own brother. 

being with sae, you’d heard the drama. you’d heard most things people didn’t, but nevertheless you were proud to see his brother make it as well.

the match went on, occasionally ‘ooohs’ and ‘aahs’ made you somewhat snap out of the trance you were in. but there was nothing more captivating than sae’s eyes traveling around for the ball. he hadn’t changed a bit, really.

the game ended, and his team had lost. shrugging your shoulders, you began to stand when a gaze hit your own so vigorously. a pair of wide eyes you were hoping you’d never see again stared up at you. you swore time stopped. you seen his arms go limp, like a million years of stress lifted from his shoulders. his eyes light up, as a kids does on christmas. truly a sight you’d never forget. 

but that didn’t stop your legs from moving towards the exit. you’d seen him and that was enough. or so you thought. you were almost there. almost in the parking lot away from all of this. 

until you felt it. 

the damp and warm hand cradling your wrist gently. 

“you came.”

you were stupid to think you could someone out run this man. but you had to give it a try. turning your head, you seen a tired, out of breath man. his eyes reading so desperately to hear him out. to stay. begging you to. 

“i didn’t know you’d be here,” 

your voice shook.

“but,. i’m glad you were.”

you trailed off. it was a huge step to take, but it was worth a try. his bottom lip quivered, pulling you so deeply into a hug you didn’t know you longed for. one hand rested around your lower back. the other cradling the back of your head. your arms followed swiftly after wrapping around his sweaty neck. 

the two of you just held each other for dear life. afraid to let go. when sae finally pulled away, you’d seen how blood shot his eyes were, as he rested his forehead to yours. his hand traveled to your cheek caressing the bone lovingly. 

“i was so stupid.” 

“you were.” 

“i hurt you.”

“you did.” 

he chuckled at your quick comebacks.

“please forgive me?” 

you pecked his nose, a smile you didn’t know you had anymore forming.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[lynk-zee]

how do you think a fight would take place with lads boys? like how it progresses and then silent treatment and the yearning to make up and actually making up

Fights

Warnings: Angsty with a blip of spice in Rafayel’s part. Happy endings because I don’t want to be sad anymore 🥲

Fights with Zayne are almost always about your health. How you’re not sleeping enough or eating right, despite the advice he gives you. He may be your boyfriend but he’s also your doctor. He just wants the best for you.

The silent treatment starts on his end, giving you one worded answers and generally ignoring you. If you didn’t care about your health, why should he? Except, it would progress worse and worse because you’re both stubborn-headed, to the point he decided to go home instead of staying over at your place like usual. It was then you conceded defeat.

Yes, he was worried about your health and safety, as both a doctor and a boyfriend. But he didn’t have to be so right…

In the end, you guys come to a compromise. You’ll get a normal amount of sleep, and he’ll lay off scolding you. Fights with Zayne aren’t without valid reasons. But, you guys always end up talking it out in the end.

Oh boy. Fights with Rafayel? Explosive. They’re mostly because of his flirty nature and the fact he can’t seem to take anything seriously. As a Hunter protecting Linkon City, you have to be steadfast and vigilant. Rafayel takes things by the moment with little thought or control, like a dumpster on fire. It gets worse when he brushes you off.

I think the fight wouldn’t officially start until you get back at him for being overly flirty with a patron. You decided to flirt with an art critic in front of him, fueling the fire for a later fight. The night continues with petty passes and glares across the room. When you get home, all hell breaks loose.

Screaming match, barely coherent, words that couldn’t be taken back. It’s a wonder you guys are still together. When you tear up and finally had enough, you grab your coat to leave when he grabs you by your shirt and yanks you in for a smoldering kiss.

Makeup sex ensues. Clothes are practically burned off as you vent out your frustrations through each others bodies. In the morning your both groggy, but have a clearer head than last night, able to talk things through more effectively. He loves you and you love him— your love can be too fiery for your own good. But that doesn’t mean you don’t try to work through it.

Fighting with Xavier can be hard because he genuinely doesn’t understand why you’re so mad at him. Yes, he disappeared for a week without telling you, but he was hunting Wanderers. Isn’t that such a noble cause that it negates the fact you were mad at him in the first place? Turns out no, because you want to be communicated with and not scared half to death when you don’t hear from him for a week.

It’s hard to stay mad at him, but you have to stay strong. If this relationship was going to work, he needed to communicate with you. You laid down your boundaries now it was his turn to understand and accept. But until then, silent treatment.

Xavier would end up at your door looking like a kicked puppy. It had been four days into the silent treatment�� how did he like that? Not being communicated with, pacing back and forth wondering if your partner was safe? It wasn’t fun, huh? He would apologize, admitting he was wrong for disappearing while desperately waiting for a long needed hug from his significant other. You give it to him, happy he understood your feelings.

Perhaps you could have handled things better, but you’re learning. Xavier’s learning too! You just have to explain it to him in a way he’ll understand.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 🔞 Main Work

He's one of the best, no race too tough to handle, every track a new challenge he takes on- especially when it's you who's waiting at the finish line for him.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, suggestive themes, heavy flirting, adult content, mentions of online hate, only minor angst, they're a power couple, this MC is now my spirit animal, smut

Length: ~5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: I know nothing about actual car racing. Pls don't take it too seriously, thanks haha 💗

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"But be real here-" A fellow driver asks, sitting down at the side now to pick up a water bottle. "-I always wondered, are you like, actually a couple?" He asks, taking a sip of his water, replenishing what he's sweat out during the training session with Jungkook and the other drivers.

Jungkook sighs to himself, before he gets into a sitting position, tapping the timer on his phone to a stop. He gets these questions a lot- whether or not you're in if for the right reasons, how good your pussy must be to have him put up with your annoying attitude all the time, or how someone like him isn't hooking up with models and actresses left and right. He's not sure why it's such an outrageous thing apparently to have a stable relationship, but somehow, if he just went by what magazines and online gossip-blogs report, it's apparently absolutely unthinkable to be in a normal loving relationship in his position.

But he is. And he intends to keep it that way for as long as you'll have him.

He loves you, dearly so. Your 'bad habits' and flaws are just as endearing to him as the rest of you, mainly because you were also there when he was just starting out, bank account almost always empty at every end of the month, rent barely being paid. You stayed even when he was at his lowest, you cheered him on when he won his first major race, and you consistently keep supporting him at every event you can. And to him, you're prettier than any model he could ever come across anyways.

"We're an actual couple indeed." Jungkook affirms, locking his phone before he screws open a plastic bottle of water himself.

"But like, isn't it a bit disappointing sometimes?" Jake asks him. "Like, I heard you never go to afterparties, and if you do it's always with her. You could have anyone, man." He laughs.

"You'll get there too, maybe." Jungkook chuckles simply, when the door opens, and familiar jingles of jewelry make him smile to turn around- and there you are, meeting his eyes with a smile, as he instantly moves to stand up.

"I bought you all your favorite snacks, and there's like, one of those electrolyte drinks there too." You say after pecking his lips with your strawberry flavored lipbalm, putting the white plastic bag into his hands. "You're not overdoing it, right?" You ask, and he grins, shaking his head.

"I'm almost finished anyways. You wanna wait up here? We can go back to the hotel together then." He asks you, gently pulling your hair out of your long earrings where some of it had gotten tangled. You let him, and wait for him to lean back as a sign that he's finished, before you answer.

"If it's not too much of a bother? There's already a bunch of paparazzi outside, I think someone might've leaked your location online.." You tell him, and he grows serious at that.

"Then you'll wait. I don't want you going back to the hotel alone if they're outside." He tells you now, not giving you another option. He remembers the last time you almost got mobbed at the airport, simply because you flew out the country a day after he did- and of course it created rumors and the wildest theories as to why that might've been the case. It's what happens to him constantly due to his status as the 'hottest race driver of his generation'.

One magazine reported that you apparently have been spotted fighting by someone at a restaurant, and that that could explain why you had sunglasses on during the airport walk- because you two probably broke up, and your eyes must've been swollen from crying. In reality, you always wore shades or shielded your eyes, because you're sensitive to the camera lights and the masses of people make you anxious, so you always try and blur them out somewhat.

Another online forum speculated that you two definitely broke up, and that it was long coming, because the hate must've gotten to you finally. That there's just no way you both could've ever worked out, and that it was just pushed by your parents so you'd have the most comfortable life imaginable. Your father allegedly introduced you to Jungkook at a press conference, which made Jungkook laugh.

True, your parents know each other- but only because you're a couple, and obviously became closer over the years of dating. It didn't make sense that you both just became a couple so you'd have it easy, when he's mentioned multiple times that you both have been dating for way longer than the span of his career.

And then, that one gossip site that pushed the narrative that he cheated on you at the last afterparty. That there's images from the event where he can be seen with a woman with long dark hair that's definitely not you, and that you most likely found out and kicked him out- and just flew out to start a new life in a different country.

That one made him angry.

The woman he'd been seen with was Mingyu's mother- his best friend whom he'd helped out the burning wreck of his car after he'd crashed into the side barriers. She'd simply been there to thank him, and he'd hugged her just as a way of reassuring her that he'd always be there for any of his teammates, no matter what. And that specific website constantly stirred up cheating allegations- either at him, or you, it didn't matter. Clearly edited photos, alleged video evidence that didn't even show you both at all, it was stupid, really.

He's lucky that you don't instantly believe anything you see. Up until now, you always confronted him first if there was anything you were concerned about. And you trusted him, just as much as he trusted you.

Finishing up his workout, he takes the towel you offer with a thanks, deciding to ignore Jake's stares at your tits for now, since it doesn't appear to bother you at all. And honestly, he can understand. They do look great.

And they feel even better- but that's only for him to know.

The moment you both exit the gym they're all there- and he instantly moves you slightly behind him to properly shield you from anyone trying to reach out to you, which has happened often enough before to make him now hyperaware of it. But you somehow make it into the car waiting to take him back to the hotel without anything happening- though the questions hurled at you both from every side do annoy him to high heavens.

Jungkook are you still together?

Jungkook did you both talk things out?

Jungkook did you really cheat on her?

Jungkook-

"Jungkook." You ask him, and he moves his head to you now. "I asked you if we wanted to take a bath at the hotel? The tub is huge!" You beam at him, and at the sight of you all genuinely happy and carefree, he smiles, nodding, before he takes your hand to hold.

As long as you're still there, everything's fine.

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"Oh god-" You breath out, hand in his hair while he's gripping your thighs over his shoulders to keep them open.

Your panties are still hanging from one of your ankles, toes curled as he licks and swallows over your core, orgasm rapidly approaching you as he places a teasing kiss to your sensitive pearl. He moves around with ease, slips out of his pants rather quickly before he pushes your legs towards you once more, aligning himself with your entrance after lubing himself up shamelessly with your arousal he's gathered with his hand.

He doesn't need to rid you of any clothes- he's done that already.

You always joke that the secret to your happy relationship is back-breaking sex and good cooking- but sometimes, you actually believe it.

It's his main way of relieving stress- he's told you as much before. And he also enjoys the more romantic and sensual aspects of it, the closeness to you, and the knowledge that it's something special just between the two of you. It's always a little playful, unserious, light and relaxing, especially afterwards- the shared afterglow you both experience always something special where you both reconnect and bond once more. It's like you grow closer every time you're together like this.

Even though, according to him, that's impossible.

"Gonna.. wanna take you to the movies..!" He grits out, leaning back while while he holds your legs by the backs of your knees, thrusting his hips steadily into you. "Ah, fuck.."

"Can I- can I choose?" you giggle in pleasure, hands over your head grabbing the pillows while he watches your chest swing in the rhythm of his pace.

"Hm, I don't know.." He mumbles, leaning over you now after letting go of your legs to peck your cheek. "What do you wanna watch?" He wonders, before mouthing at your neck.

"Right now?" You hum dreamily, closing your eyes at the sensations of it all. "Wanna watch you." You say, and he chuckles against your skin, hands next to your head steadying him as he slows down a bit to a more sensual rhythm, though he presses himself deeper at the same time, making you arch your back as your legs hook together over his back.

"You're so cute." He teases, one of his hands moving to run over your chest, playfully smacking one of them once to earn a squeak from you- and laughter from him.

"Kook-!" You whine, and he mimics your tone a little, before his hand moves over your body between your legs where you're currently connected, fingers toying around with you. "Yes-!" You beg, thighs pressing together against his body, before you reach your high, muscles twitching from the feeling, while he becomes a bit more erratic now with your core clenching around his length.

He cums a little afterwards, pulling out before he spills his seed over your lower abdomen, the sight always doing something to him.

"You know, I really wanna go to that premiere that I was invited to with you." He says after taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, getting up after leaning over you to peck your lips twice- because once is never really enough for him.

"Heh, you know I'll always be at your side if you want me there." You sing-song, stretching your limbs while he turns on the water in the bathtub, door open to be able to hear you. "So, if you wanna take me, of course I'll be your arm-candy!" You chirp, and he smiles as he returns with some babywipes in his hands to wipe down your skin.

"I always want you at my side." He tells you gently, careful with the rather cold wipes on your skin. "And I'm glad you're still willing to put up with me and this whole thing." He shrugs, throwing the tissues away in the trashcan.

"Why wouldn't I?" You wonder up at him as he hooks his hands underneath your back and legs to carry you into the bathroom of the hotel room you're staying at, to help you into the tub.

"Why would you?" He sighs, getting into the tub as well, unscrewing the small bottle of soap offered by the hotel to pour it into the water. "I sometimes really wonder how.. strong you must be to just constantly put up with all the things said about you and me." He says, pulling you closer to him as the bubbles form with the water pouring in. "…I was really scared, you know." He mumbles onto your skin before he kisses your shoulder.

"Of what?" You ask, unsure.

"When the rumor spread of me cheating. I always.. get worried you might become doubtful of me when things like these are said." He admits to you, before you turn around in his arms, his hands immediately on your hips.

"I'm not worried though." You simply tell him, running your hands through his hair before they settle around his neck. "I trust you." You shrug, and he moves his hands up to hold your cheeks, pulling you closer to kiss you until you giggle, pushing against his pecks to get him away. "Kook no-" You laugh, but he whines.

"But I want to love my girlfriend!" He complains.

"You just did!" You argue back, and he plays with his lip rings for a second.

"But you deserve more." He purrs, trying a little more.

"And my pussy needs a break!" You respond back, making him laugh. This is why he loves you so much- why he loves your relationship so much. Living with you is easy, it's relaxing, it's light and it takes his mind off of all the worries he has.

Because when he's with you, it's like none of it matters. He can just fall into your arms and trust you to catch him every single time.

And you do. Just like right now, as you kiss him until the water cools down, and the bubbles are all gone.

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Something he's never really told you is the amount of people trying to get to you- through him of all people.

Mainly because everyone still somewhat believes the most common rumor that you're just a sugar baby kind of situation- that you're up for anyone, as long as the numbers fit your standards. It's infuriating really, makes his blood boil because what else does he have to do to make people take you both seriously? It's not even just the fact that they apparently don't take him seriously as your partner- but that they really think you'd be someone to use others for money, just because you're not the quiet sweet person in the background who they can bully around.

But he has a plan. Foolproof, really, and he's wanted to do that this year anyways.

"I need my good-luck-kiss.." He teases, keeping you close to him.

"Well if we had enough time I'd give you the whole good-luck-menu, but you gotta go get ready now." You giggle while he bites at your neck.

"Not yet.." He complains, already in his overalls, helmet on the bench close by. You're hiding behind a corner like schoolkids attempting not to get caught skipping class, and he admits that you both do this a lot. He just can't get enough, and today especially, he just wants to make sure the cameras can see his marks on you, and know that they're his. "Will you watch the race?" He asks, and you giggle.

"Of course. I always do." You promise, and he grins, before he pecks your lips one last time, finally getting ready.

You're standing in the VIP spots, watching closely how he starts the race, seemingly a bit behind. But he's pushy, he always is, competitiveness not letting him lose without a fight. And fighting he does, quickly catching up as he squeezes past several other competitors, making your pulse rise quite a bit. Truth be told, you always worry- especially after his friend's last accident that you witnessed that day. The race had been interrupted because of it, and had been decided to be re-started at a later date once Mingyu had fully recovered.

He only sustained minor injuries, cracked a rib and a minor concussion, but nothing else. But the sight of the car will stay in your head for quite a while.

You have nightmares, sometimes. Of Jungkook being in a wreck like that, flames swallowing his broken body whole, and you can't do anything to save him. That's most likely the biggest reason you're always a little on edge whenever he drives. You know he's a good driver, of course he is- but still. You can't help but worry.

Not that you'll ever tell him. He doesn't need about something stupid like that.

It's not even half an hour in, and a black flag is waved at a blue car lagging behind. There's smoke coming from the back wheels- so he's asked to leave the tracks and drive into his pit box, which he promptly does to get his vehicle inspected. It seems to be a more serious issue however- because the announcer suddenly explains that the racer named Jake Pitcher won't return to the tracks.

Time passes by, and the race goes on without much interruption. Everyone follows the rules, flags are waved left and right to navigate things happening, and your eyes occasionally lose sight of the mainly red and black hyundai Jungkook is driving, though you always find him again at the very top, leading the race. It's after the second pit stop that a driver in a sky-blue Toyota is becoming visibly more aggressive, especially towards Jungkook.

It's alright to be a bit pushy, you've learned that that's the norm- but this guy is putting other drivers in danger with just how close he's pressing himself against Jungkook's back and another's side.

But this is the sport. It's an aggressive one, and the rules about how to race are pretty grey.

Someone crashes, a yellow and green racecar you've seen earlier. The vehicle spins on the ground in donuts a few times before it comes to a stop on the grass, and the team is visibly running around to sort things out. It's announced that the driver is awake and alert, and doesn't seem injured- and the car is towed safely away, one lane closed until everything is cleared once more, caution in place for now causing everyone to slow down a little until the track is cleared again.

Jungkook had crashed before. Multiple times, even. He's cracked ribs, bruised his body, broken bones. Never anything too serious- but enough to remind you every time how dangerous his career is. You hate that side of it, and sometimes you really wish he would just call it quits- but you also understand that he's passionate about this, that this is his dream.

You'll always remember his worst crash- the way his car had flown through the air rolling around like it was nothing but a toy, front wheels almost pulled off entirely- and your fear inside your bones as it took him ages it felt like to climb out of the wreck, surprisingly unscathed, only bruised badly in some spots.

He was on a stretcher that day, a safety precaution even though he turned out mostly fine. You remember not even having the energy to scold him in hospital, crying at his side for hours it felt like until he'd managed to calm you down enough, his laugh teasing as he'd helped you wipe off your ruined makeup before going back to the hotel later to sleep- your body even clingier than ever before.

It's his fourth pit stop. Things are looking good- this time the car seems to be holding up a lot better than last time when he only made the third place, and the commenters seem to recognize that too. Jungkook is the only one bringing a car of his type on the track after all- it's basically the talk of town every time he participates. He went from being a joke to a true competitor nowadays- finally being taken seriously on the tracks, and you know Jungkook relishes in the feeling of it.

He loves to win, after all. Even if it's just the respect of others.

Suddenly, something happens in the front. The toyota pushes too hard, too far to the side, and it breaks the current leader completely into the barriers as the car loses control, dragging several cars with him- And as your eyes search for the familiar red and black car with white font written all over it, you find it.

There's a lot of smoke, several cars unable to continue, a driver exits his own on the grassy spot in the middle, throwing his helmet in frustration. Jungkook's car is scratched, badly, a slight crack in front, but he's still driving- seemingly having escaped with nothing but some minor damage. He's slowed down just like everyone else now, entire track under major caution as the damage to a lot of other car's is being inspected, several people now left out with their cars damaged too hard to compete any longer.

Jungkook seems just a bit out of breath from the shock from what you can see on the screens, now in the pit box where tape is placed over a break in the front over the scratches, car being refueled and inspected just to make sure. He gives a thumbs up when asked if he's alright- a nod given to other questions. According to a commenter, he's asking for any serious injuries in other drivers- but there are none, so he's reassured that everyone's alright and up walking around.

Caution is lifted, green flag waved. The fight is back on, speed increasing as they once more go back full force, pushing and mixing up the order in which they're making their way towards the finish line.

It's the last stretch now, and things are getting clearly heated on the tracks. From clear pushing to forceful passing, scratches and bumps can probably be found on every car after this race is done. There's a fight happening now, and Jungkook is not backing down from anyone- now doubling down, and pressing himself towards the front. He's not as impolite as some other drivers further back, but he still bites, clearly so- currently passing another car, the white flag waved as he presses himself against his competitor.

One round left.

You can practically feel the tension now, pulse racing just as quickly as his car drives as he pushes himself further and further up front. He's in second place. That's most likely the spot he'll make.

Or?

It's almost in the last second it seems like when he manages to outrun the Chevrolet he's been pushing against next to- the black and white checkered flag waved, Jungkook's name being called as everyone cheers.

He made it. His team cheers- but you're frozen in time.

Because this is also a win for you, every singe time. Your prize is the fact that he's unscathed, that he's okay, that nothing happened. Fireworks light up the sky, when suddenly, he turns the car, covers the track in white smoke from his wheels, a full on spin one of his by now signature winning gestures.

His team runs towards him, pulls down the window gate to congratulate him as he climbs out, pulling his gloves off before he takes off his helmet and climbs on the roof of his car, clearly excited over the win. The interview is easy, as he answers questions thanks his team, before he becomes nervous, visibly, shaking his hands a little. "You still seem rather emotional from the race!" The interviewer jokes, and Jungkook nods, before he runs a hand over his face, bracing himself it seems like.

"Yeah that too, but uh- I made myself a little challenge too, you know?" He laughs. "I promised myself if I won this race, I'd.. do something I've been chickening out of for quite a while now." He explains, and you become a bit nervous now, unsure what he's trying to say. You're making your way down now to where his team is too, now closer and in sight as Jungkook grins to himself.. almost shy?

A member of his crew gives him something, and you become suspicious when he walks towards you now, because that stupid grin he has on his face just spells trouble in bold capital letters.

"You put up with so much shit, you know?" Jungkook tells you over the sound of people cheering and the commentator telling the crowd what's happening- everyone now curious. "You really do- and I don't think there's anyone out here in this world that can really love me like you do." He offers, and you laugh to yourself. "Don't laugh! I'm serious!" He complains, making some crewmembers laugh. "Either way, I might've won the race, but do you know what prize I'd really like instead?" He wonders, before he moves to drop to one knee.

"You, as my wife." He tells you, slightly dirty black box containing a ring.

And suddenly, the world seems to quiet down entirely as you nod, watching in fascination as he puts the ring on your finger in front of thousands.

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"Jungkook you're speeding!" You whine as he laughs in the driver's seat, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the weather.

"Babe I'm actually way below the limit, what're you talking about?" He chuckles, always a little amused by the irony of your fear of him driving- him, a professional racecar driver. "It's an RV, not a racecar. Relax a bit." He says, taking your hand to kiss the back of it before he continues to hold it.

He's taking some time off- spending a vacation in europe with you, having rented an RV for some quality camping that he's always wanted to do with you. Now that his relationship status had been officially upgraded so to speak, rumors have died down- the thrill seemingly left now that he's made it more than clear that he's taking it seriously with you, even though he always has.

"Still, can't you drive a bit slower?" You worry, and he shakes his head.

"No can do darling. But we only have half an hour to go anyways, so we're almost there." He tells you.

"Half an hour can feel like a lifetime though.." You pout quietly, and at that, he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Were you scared when they all crashed?" He asks, and you nod.

"I searched for your car right away. You can't believe how I felt when I saw you come through that cloud of smoke and car-parts almost unharmed." You whine. "I hate that I'm always so scared. I don't want you to feel bad when you drive-" You worry, and he laughs.

"You're not making me feel bad, don't worry." He shakes his head. "I can understand how hard that must be to watch though. Just like I said, I'll never understand how you put up with me and my shit." He offers, and you shrug.

"I don't know either." You huff. "You constantly bully me." You complain.

"I don't bully you!" Jungkook argues scandalized.

"You constantly make fun of my height, and you laugh when I'm scared, and you slap my ass in front of everyone no matter who!" You say, and he shrugs.

"It's a nice ass, what can I say?" He defends himself, making you glare at him. "Hey come on, you can't possibly blame me, you slap my ass too!" He argues back to you.

"That's cause you deserve it!" You respond.

"And you don't?" He wonders.

"Absolutely not. I'm an angel!" You state, and he laughs theatrically.

"You might get down on your knees regularly but you're not a saint-" He jokes, making you roll your eyes. "-see? And a brat too.!" He teases.

"Yeah well if you're not nice to me I won't suck your dick for the entire trip." You threaten. "Not even once." You state, making him pout playfully.

"Not even the tip?"

"Won't even touch your balls." You respond, and he whines.

"Oh no! Anything but that!" He complains, finally driving towards the entrance of the camping spot. "What do I have to do to gain back the sacred touch of my soon-to-be-wife?" He asks, having parked the RV now, and taken off his glasses.

"..you can start by giving her a nice kiss." You tell him. "But a good one. With feelings and all- the whole menu." You demand, and at that he leans over the middle, careful not to touch anything and cause an accident, pulling you closer by your neck.

"Well-" He smiles warmly at you. "-that's easy."

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"So how have you always dealt with all the hate and rumors about you both? That must've been pressuring!" A paparazzi asks you as you stand right next to your by now husband, who's just made the second place in his latest race.

"Oh, I just look at him naked to remind myself why it's all worth it in the end!" You beam happily at them, Jungkook laughing loudly next to him.

Yeah- you're really one of a kind.

And he doesn't mind spending the rest of his life with you.

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[6okuto]

Vere Relationship HCS

GN!reader | i got u anon. Shocked to see i haven't done ts relationship hcs bUT i shall link my masterlist with old hcs anyway since there's a lot of overlap. if that tickles anyone's fancy. hate that saying a little bit. anyway

Empty threats... outsiders fearful of Vere can't believe you're with him. He says he'll kill you or you'll find something dead waiting on your bed like a cat bringing in a mouse and you just Laugh and they're like ??!!?!?!?!. But they don't see his pout, nor do they care about how his tail swishes in amusement as you bite back

It's silent things! Like him making a second drink for you without being asked. Pulling you out of the way when someone's about to bump into you (and sending them a cold glare). Fixing your necklace because the clasp has circled round to the front. Etc...

Getting out of bed on a free day can be one of life's biggest challenges when you're dating Vere Touchstarved. The Clingerrr. One time he almost hisses as you try to leave and you're like Wow

In general I think Vere likes when your attention is on him. In an established relationship, you've gone through the main mess of attachment and trust issues, violence, etc. and he's very confident in your relationship and feelings. And yet. He still prefers when your eyes are on him, and in big events, if he wants your attention away from your friends and acquaintances... well!

Hrm. At the start, I imagine him going through this dip where that last point is. a super prominent Thing going on, and you're like ...? before he goes back to his usual independence.

If you go on a long trip without him, he can handle himself, but he is affected by it more than he'll admit to other people. Guy who likes playing it cool...

Surprise escape room date where Vere is suddenly the biggest threat in the room because why would you do that. You want him to. solve Multiple Puzzles? You have his company for the afternoon and You Do This? I DO THINK. Hm. You could convince him to lock in but it'll take a lot of promises. He keeps messing with you even then though. Of course. Also if it's one of the horror rooms he may or may not almost attack one of the scare actors

Asking Vere to draw things for you... He's so. You're like Don't spend long on this please and he does anyway because he's not one to half-ass anything especially if it's for you Hello?? "Do you think you could doodle this character I'm creating so I can envision them better" And he gives you a bust, full body, outfit options like oh okay hello Hello???

Intimate baths... Vere fully relaxed and you're just enjoying each other's company... Him laying between your legs or vice versa... Bubbling and foaming up his hair and making silly shapes... Exactly

Nips you when you're annoying him. LOL. Squishing his cheeks and he turns to bite your thumb. Messing with his hair while his head is in your lap and he nips your thigh or turns for your hand. Suggestive I guess but he does it while trailing kisses down from your jaw. A favourite thing to do!

Vere gets.. opinionated.. when it comes to home decor and furniture. His taste is good! It's just... you know... if yours clashes, this Ikea trip will be a test. He'll barely, if at all, help build it when you get home so you'll have needed to plan for this by calling in back-up. He'd rather offer refreshments while you're all at the peak of suffering because you can't find a screw and the parts won't sit flat against each other and

If you fall asleep on him, he Will glare at anyone who comes by and might wake you. He's very gentle with his touches, and if you could see the fond affection on his face sometimes... wow.

I think I said this in an old post but Vere falling asleep on you is soo important to me actually because he's open and vulnerable but he trusts you completely.

Big fan of those teasing condescending (??) pet names like hellooo "sweetheart." This mostly pops up when he's fucking with you but oh my goodness a sincere "sweetheart" when you go to him for comfort or catch him in a good mood... Icna'tb icantpelase

It's very important to me to imagine Vere coming to you for comfort... It's very obvious at this point when he's putting up a front or hiding something... Depending on how bad, you might wait for him to broach the topic first, playing along with his distractions. Has anyone imagined Vere crying. lol. I don't know what he'd cry about but the thought of him crying and trying to push away your affection before surrendering completely . lol. Lol. not that i care

[gor3-hound]

MAMA'S BOY - NERO

ft. nero x fem!reader

a/n: if nero does not stop looksmaxxing omfg why is it so hard to find a pic where he isn't mewing? this is admittedly so super self-indulgent and idek what the dmc fandom on tumblr is saying so... if this gets four notes i'll still die happy. feedback and reblogs appreciated :3 ty to @thevirgincherry for beta reading !! ilysm MWAH

cw: 18+ content, mdlb, nipple play, tit play(?) in general, use of mama, handjob, cum eating, super sappy smut basically

word count: 1.8k words

“You've gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Is the first thing that spills past Nero's lips when you mention shifting the dynamics a little bit in your relationship. He's giving you an incredulous look, one of his brows arching towards his hairline.

“I'm really not. You're so irritable all the time. You need to let yourself relax. All that cynicism is getting to your head.” You say with a frown, your brows furrowing as you look at your boyfriend. He's giving you that look again - the one that says he's about three seconds away from saying something downright horrific, but he's choosing not to - to spare your feelings, of course.

“Right. And so, what… you coddling me like a kid's meant to… miraculously make me a ray of sunshine?” He scoffs, his own brows pinching together in frustration as he runs his hand through his hair. The cybernetic one, ‘cause his human hand is currently twitching at his side. “Baby, I love you, but seriously. I've been handling myself for a long while. I don't need you to do it.”

You know it's not that - you know Nero well enough to recognise the uncomfortable shift of his feet and the way the tips of his ears turn a slight pink. He's embarrassed, even if he's trying to hide it. A sense of unease always comes over him when he thinks about being taken care of. It's a luxury he's never had - one he thinks he doesn't deserve.

You give him that look that he really, really hates. ‘Cause you really are the only person that's always looked out for him, so seeing the way your eyes narrow in frustration is enough to have him wanting to kneel at your feet with his tail between his legs, rubbing himself against your thighs and pleading until you forgive him.

Shit. Maybe he's more cut out for this whole ‘mama’ shit than he thought.

His resolve wavers, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before he lets out a soft sigh and nods. “Alright, alright. I’ll try it out, but I ain't promisin’ shit.”

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Turns out all Nero needs is a few stern words and gentle touches and he's rolling over like a good boy, exposing the soft underbelly he tends to try and keep hidden. When he comes home drained and you're quick to guide him to a bath, it's hard for him not to completely melt under your attention.

Scratch his scalp when you're washing his hair, and he's fully ready to go all ‘yes, mama’ to whatever you want. He's happy to bare himself for you. You want him bent over the back of the couch? On all fours? He'll stick his tongue out and beg for it like a good boy if it meant you'd give him that proud expression that makes his heart feel like it's beating again. Mama gets what mama wants, and that's an irrefutable fact.

“C'mere, baby.” You coo after he makes his way into the apartment after a long day of ‘work’. Blood splatters his feet dragging against the floor. His movements are exhausted - slow and rugged. You can see that glazed over look making itself present in his eyes, his gaze somewhere off in the distance.

His body is working on autopilot as he makes his way to the sofa you're sitting on. He flops down next to you, and the change in him is immediate. The tension melts from him as he buries his face into your chest, nuzzling his way between your breasts as his hands clutch your waist tight enough that it's almost painful.

“Mama…” He croaks out, pressing himself right up against you, trying to wriggle his way on your lap without ever having to disconnect any part of himself from your warmth. You cradle him as best you can - it's not necessarily the easiest thing to have a 6’2 demon hybrid trying to curl up on your lap like a kitten, but he always manages to find a way to worm himself into your arms, clinging to you like he's scared you're gonna vanish as soon as he closes his eyes.

He's never found it so easy to be loved by someone. You gave him that unconditional, no strings attached love. You loved him just ‘cause he was worth loving in your eyes. Not because you needed him for something, or because you had some sense of pity for his situation.

You were easy to love, and his love for you was unwavering and all consuming. It was far too easy to fall into you with your kind eyes and gentle touch. He didn't have to deal with the shit of his life when he was with you. He could finally relax. He was safe.

“Missed you.” He breathes out against the skin peeking out from the low collar of your shirt, his blue eyes flicking up to gaze at your face. His nose brushes your skin, his hands pawing at your shirt as if he's trying to entice you to take it off. “Mama… please.”

“You gotta ask properly, baby. Use your big boy words, c'mon. What do you want from mama?” You coo, running a hand through his white hair. You let your nails rake over his scalp lightly, enjoying the way he shivers at the touch.

His hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, trying to tug it off anyway. He's never been good at this part - getting the words out. His cheeks grow all pink and he gets quiet, just whining until you let him pull the shirt off of your body. As soon as your tits are in view, he's licking, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he can get his mouth on.

“So impatient, baby.” You scold lightly, helping him adjust slightly so you can slip down his trousers, freeing his cock. It's already rock hard and leaky, the tip flushed red as it oozes precum down his length. “S'okay though. It's not your fault. Mama knows you can't think straight without her help.”

You give his dick a squeeze, his face scrunching up so prettily as he bucks his hips into your tight grip, his cock pulsing in your hand. “Mama… Mama, please. I'll be good, c'mon. Been good, just tou-”

His words are cut off with a groan as you finally start pumping his length in your hand, circling your wrist and running your thumb along his slit everytime you fist the head of his cock. You let go to spit into your palm before stroking him again, leaving him panting into your breasts.

His lips latch onto one of your nipples as you continue touching him, slick sounds filling the room. He suckles greedily, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded as he looks up at you, his tongue flicking eagerly against your nipple.

Your free hand cups his head, holding him against your tit as you let him fuck your fist. Your thumb brushes back and forth on his scalp as he pulls away from your nipple, biting and sucking marks into the flesh of your tits instead as his thumb plays with one of your nipples, stroking and pinching the bud.

“You're making such a mess, baby. Leaking all over mama's hand.” You tease, digging your nail lightly into his slit as he bucks his hips, a low whine spilling from his lips. “You sound so pretty, though. Lucky I'm so good to you, huh, pretty boy?”

You can see the conflict on his face at that nickname, the twitch of his brows and the way his face heats up, his teeth biting down just a little harsher as if he's trying to protest the choice. He can act all he wants, but his dick doesn't lie - and it always kicks when you call him that.

“Mama… gonna cum, mama, please…” He grits out, fucking your fist with more urgency. He pulls his face away from your tits just so he can shift his body to gain better control of his hips, rutting into your hand desperately as he chases his release. “Tits, mama. Lemme… lemme cum on you, please. I'll clean it up, promise. Please.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, watching him writhe as he struggles not to cum, his eyes tearing up and his face all flushed as he continues to jerk his hips, unable to stop chasing the pleasure you're giving him.

“Alright, baby. C’mere then.” You murmur, shifting to lie on your back. As soon as your grip on him loosens, he's quick to straddle your waist, kneeling over your body as he hungrily fists his cock, aiming it down towards your breasts.

“Fuck, mama. Gonna… gonna cum.” He grits, his hand quickly coming down next to your head to support his weight as he slumps forward, ribbons of white coating your chest. His lips part in a silent moan, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

He takes a couple of seconds before he leans down, his tongue sliding along your soiled skin. He laps up every drop of his release happily, his eyes practically shimmering with satisfaction.

“There we go. Such a good boy, cleaning up your mess.” You say softly, your hand finding his hair once more, scratching behind his ear in a way that never fails to have him melting in your grasp. He rests his head on your stomach when he's cleaned you up fully, his hand reaching out for yours. He yawns a little, letting himself lie across the couch while using you as his personal pillow.

“You sleepy?” You ask softly, gazing down at his hooded eyes. Nero nods softly, blinking slowly a few times. You smile at him, still stroking his hair with one hand as your free hand comes down to rest on his back, your thumb rubbing small circles there. “Take a nap, baby. Mama will be here when you wake up.”

He gives you another one of his looks - the one halfway between pure adoration and complete confusion. He knows you're someone that sees him. That sees Nero behind the front he puts up. Somehow, you're aware of how fucked up he is, and you're still willing to stay. He doesn't know how to take it, he can feel himself getting choked up as he meets your eyes. And he can't cry, not in front of you. So he nods again, closing his eyes to keep in the unshed tears, wrapping you up tightly in his free arm while his hand squeezes yours as hard as he can without hurting you.

“Alright, mama. Night.” He croaks out, the words he wants to say dying on his tongue. But when you rub your thumb over the nape of his neck and squeeze his hand back, he knows you felt it. He knows you love him, too. He knows that despite everything, it's enough for you. 

He's enough for you.

[sp-by-april]

Yandere MBTI x Craig & Those Guys

The categories are cruel/reverent, aware/delusional, manipulative/honest and strict/lenient. Got this MBTI idea from @ddarker-dreams 💘

I think I am going to do Wendy, Bebe, Nichole and Heidi next month. Then Butters, Jimmy, etc or Mike Makowski, Henrietta, Michael and Pete.

Cruel vs. Reverent

🤬 Craig Tucker: Cruel Craig is a straighforward guy who tells it like it is... That includes a lot of criticism. Craig can pinpoint every flaw you have and lay them bare. He refuses to handle you with kid gloves, it's something that you'll just have to accept.

🃏 Clyde Donovan: Wildcard, leans Cruel Clyde is a little tempermental, which means he will flip between being cruel/reverent. He can be a snuggling sweetheart, or a callous stone that gives the coldest shoulder. It's a rollercoaster and if you wanna be with Clyde, you better learn to enjoy the ride.

🙌🏾 Tolkien Black: Reverent Tolkien is attentive, thoughtful and incredibly generous. His love language (if you ascribe to such a thing) is giving gifts. He will shower you with thoughtful items. Some will be extravagant and others will be practical depending on your needs. Either way, as long as Tolkien is around, you'll never go without.

🙌🏻 Tweek Tweak: Reverent Tweek is alert, observant and persistent. He will fret over you like nobody's business. He thinks you're pratically a saint for putting up with him. He knows he can be a handful and because of that, he's so grateful to be with you. He'll fawn over you with an intensity that can be overwhelming.

Aware vs. Delusional

🤖 Craig Tucker: Aware Craig is many things... Delusional is never one of them. Craig is lowkey observant. He is constantly analyzing your relationship in his head and scrutinizing the state of it.

🤡 Clyde Donovan: Delusional Clyde is absolutely delusional. He thinks he's God's personal gift to you, and that you're madly even love with him - even if you're not. And he'll hold onto these delusions like a fucking lifeline.

🤖 Tolkien Black: Aware Tolkien is definitely aware. He'll know exactly how you feel about him - your feelings are just irrelevent. He will pursue you relentlessly and lovebomb you like his life depends on it.

🤡 Tweek Tweak: Delusional Tweek is definitely delusional in the sense that he will constantly assume things are bad and awful and going wrong when the aren't. He will makes mountains out of molehills and always believes that his relationship with you is teetering on a razor's edge.

Manipulative vs. Honest

😇 Craig Tucker: Honest Like we covered earlier: Craig tells it like it is. He's honest to a fault. Brutally so, sometimes. He will also take his honestly and use it like a knife to cut you down. That said, he's not above twisting the truth on some rare occasions and using it to get what he wants.

🤞🏻 Clyde Donovan: Manipulative Clyde is manipulative as fuck! He will do anything in his power to make you his and keep you - that includes any dirty trick he can come up with. He'll lie and decieve as much as he has to as long it leads him to his goal... You.

😇 Tolkien Black: Manipulative Tolkien will manipulate you, but unlike Clyde, it will be subtle and meticulous. He'll show up where you are by "coincidence". He'll use everything at his disposal to keep you in his orbit. He'll loan you money, pay your rent - anything to prove he can provide for you. He'll do what he can to make you completely rely on him, especially financially.

🃏 Tweek Tweak: Wildcard Tweek will do whatever it takes you make you his. Whatever it takes to keep you with him. Sometimes this means being honest, sometimes it means straight up lying. That said, unlike Tolkien, Tweek is not some master manipulator - his attempts are desperate and clumsy - you'll probably see through half (if not most of) them.

Strict vs. Lenient

🚫 Craig Tucker: Strict Craig is probably the strictest guy on this list. He has rules and you better fucking follow them - Otherwise you're in for an ice cold shoulder. He is the master of withholding. Aside from Cartman, I think Craig is probably the strictest guy on either of these lists.

🙈 Clyde Donovan: Lenient Clyde doesn't give a fuck as long as you belong to him. His only rule is that you love him more than anybody else and take care of him. Definitely the most lenient guy in this group.

🚫 Tolkien Black: Lenient Tolkien knows you have your own life - He just wants to be a part of it. He'll let you do whatever... Within reason. He wants to keep you, and if that means giving you a long leash - so be it.

🚫 Tweek Tweak: Strict Tweek is strict as hell, he has rules for everything! And if you don't follow the rules? Be ready for a loud, animated argument. He absolutely will flip the fuck out.

Final Scores:

Craig Tucker: Cruel, Aware, Honest, Strict

Clyde Donovan: Wildcard, Delusional, Manipulative, Lenient Tolkien Black: Reverent, Aware, Honest, Lenient

Tweek Tweak: Reverent, Delusional, Wildcard, Strict

[beneathsilverstars]

Hello, there! So, in the secret passage, we learn that Odile had a “hate-crush,” so how do you think it went? (I am an aro Odile believer—)

And, second question, do you think the implication that Bonnie has no friends is one of the reasons they act the way they do? (Besides not having memories of their parents, which definitively would mess a kid up, even if it’s for the best.) I feel there is more to Bonnie’s character than it seems, I just don’t know how to word it properly, sorry.

(answered the first part here)

Bonnie's really interesting, because in some ways they're a very well-written child character, but it's like... sometimes they seem like a well-written 12 year old and sometimes they seem like a well-written 7 year old? Which makes sense, because id5 has said they don't know a lot about kids — it seems she has good intuition for the emotional arc on account of children are obviously just people who haven't had a lot of practice yet, but she isn't familiar with the like, developmental milestone timelines. But! Hey! There are plenty of reasons for kids to be behind average in various areas! So we can absolutely run with some Watsonian theories here.

Tbh I need to replay the game with this topic in mind bc I'm starting to forget exactly which Bonnie moments struck me as pre-preteen. But one of the big ones is that the amount and type of words they have trouble pronouncing is more what I'd expect from a 4-5 year old; my 5 year old recently took a couple tries to get "onigiri" right, but I can't remember the last time she mispronounced something before that. So I think Bonnie might have some kind of language or auditory processing issues, or maybe Nille (or the whole region they're from) speak a different language more often than Vaugardian or something.

Bonnie doesn't mention any friends, but they also barely mention Nille, so maybe they don't have any but maybe they just don't want to think about anyone from Bambouche. But I like to say they don't have any because no one in this party does! Family, acquaintances, coworkers or classmates, but no true close friends. And it would just makes sense, y'know? Bonnie and Nille were newcomers in a small village, which isn't a status you shake easily, especially when you're weird in other ways. And there's no way Bonnie wouldn't have been weird at first — whatever age they were when Nille ran away with them, they would've been behind in social-emotional skills. And once you're the weird kid, you don't get as many chances to socialize, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even if people were perfectly nice, it makes a difference to be the person who hasn't been good friends with everyone else since preschool.

But that's just peer relationships — by canon I think Bonnie has pretty well caught up on general emotional skills. They're dealing with several very traumatizing situations and handling them surprisingly well! Preteens are known for being a bit angry and angsty, I'm not gonna hold it against them when they react that way to their friend/idol losing a whole eye right in front of them. (This is why I think Nille must have done some therapy and gotten pretty damn good at emotional regulation, if she's raised such a well-regulated and reasonable kid, despite everything.)

And actually, their relative maturity in some ways coulda kinda work hand-in-hand with their relative immaturity in other ways, when it comes to a lack of friendships. It's just another way of being weird, y'know? (<- my "autistic kid who ends up hanging out with adults because they don't vibe with their peers" bonnie agenda)

Overall, though, I feel like we do know a little less about Bonnie than anyone else... Their friend quest is about their relationship with Siffrin, so it doesn't give as much backstory context as everyone else's. And they joined the party because Siffrin found them half-dead, so we don't get the same information about what motivates them as we do with Isabeau and Odile. I think I extrapolate a lot of my Bonnie headcanons/characterizations just from the general themes and trends of ISAT. And then some of it is intertwined with my Nille analysis — the way kids act tells you a lot about how they were raised, and the way kids were raised obviously affects how they act. (Here's some of my more-specific thoughts about that with Bonnie.)

[rockets-lost-archive]

𔓐𑇓 All Too Much. All Too Little. All at once.

(Hold me, Just stay here. Please?)

in which sprout comforts reader through a shutdown. reader is gender neutral and is heavily implied to be on the neurodivergent spectrum, but can be perceived differently.

☄️: This had been sitting in my drafts for a while. I have shutdowns quite often and it's been frustrating me. I'm at least proud to say I've finally finished this. I hope this can bring you, dear reader, some comfort too.

— featuring; sprout x reader

INCLUDES: SFW, hurt w/ comfort, established romantic relationship, poly! moonberrycake, but focuses moreso on sprout.

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Sprout had always been observant to those he held close. To Cosmo, to Astro, to you.

He was just observant in general.

He observes, and waits, until the right time to directly address the situation at hand.

Always straightforward. Always blunt.

Maybe even..mean to some few. Not that he means to. He tries, he really, truly does.

But as he watched you leave the room filled with others, noticeably quiet, noticeably different, noticeably upset,—he figured this time he'd try a little harder. A little softer. All if it meant helping you.

Especially now, when you don't even really remember how you got into this situation again. Nor can you really try to.

As much as you wanted to, you just.. can't. Couldnt.

Not right now.

Not when everything you felt would contradict itself one after the other constantly.

—It's too loud, yet too quiet. Too much yet not enough. Too bright, too dark—too much, too much, too much, too much, too—fuck!

You hated it. Hate, hate hate, hate, hated it!

Your entire body and mind felt like it was working against you, just for the sake of working against you!

You wanted to scream!

You wanted to cry.

You wanted to simply curl into a ball.

You wanted to hide, tucked away in the darkest corner of your room.

You wanted to sob loudly while clutching your head, tugging and pulling roughly at the edges just to relieve the constant ache, to just feel relief. To fall back into habits you told yourself you wouldn't do anymore because what else is there?

You wanted so much.

You don't even know how much time has passed, or if any has passed at all.

Were you really even in your room, or were you still the dummy in the corner, simply staring, simple observing, barely even there as toons would interact each other so naturally.

It hurt.

You wanted everything and nothing, you wanted—

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A hand.

..A hand—?

A hand pulls you from your thoughts.

Its light, yet firm. Just enough to ground you without being overbearing.

Your vision is blurry. From tears, you had no idea, (were you even crying?)

Regardless, your eyes tried to focus on the hand clasped in yours. Not needing to look up to know who it was. Not really.

You wanted to say something. Anything. You needed to. Yet as your tongue remained heavy, and body remained still, you're left with the crumbling realization you couldn't.

You couldn't really see the expression he wore, too focused on the dread you felt at even being seen, but you remain anyway, trying to steady your breathing.

He squeezed your palm. His voice quiet. The most quiet you've heard of the berry, really.

"... okay... okay,—Okay, Is this alright? Can I touch you?"

His fingers moved to tread your palm, a bit firmer this time as your sluggish mind barely kept up, but nodded anyways.

He seemed to be relieved by that, lifting both of your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles in response.

"okay—you're doing great, okay? Can you talk?"

You shake your head immediately at the question, seeming to wilt further into yourself. It's subtle, but it's there.

He softens at this, then nods. Lowering both of your hands once more, moving to press his thumb onto your palm.

To see you in such a state hurt him.

He wanted to help, even if clumsily, even if he didn't even know how to handle emotions himself, Just as long as you know he's there.

"okay. okay, thank you, honey. That's okay, you're doing okay, you're doing good, you're doing so, so good."

He pressed his palm onto yours again, moving to interlace his fingers with yours instead. Each of his fingers pressing firmly onto each of yours. The pressure felt grounding. Nice.

You took another shaky breath. He mirrored it with his own, much louder as if to ease you back in. Guiding you, like he has many times before.

"we're already halfway there," he cooed softly, from where he sat in front of you, you could feel the heat radiating off him, realizing how cold you really were. You dared to look up. It was scary, but you did so anyway.

His face was filled with the same adoring look he always sent you. Loving. Unguarded. Something he only ever showed to you and the other two.

You felt undeserving of it.

Yet as your grip falters, and your thoughts drift, his voice brings you back.

"... it's going to be okay," another squeeze, and you could feel your tears well up again, blinking them away, "I know it doesn't feel that way right now, I know it feels stupid, but we've gone through this before, and we'll go through it again, okay? So breathe."

You nodded, trembling. Though you didn't get as much as a single breath before tears come rushing again and you're left clamping your mouth shut, stubbornly silencing yourself as if to save you any further humiliation.

It doesn't work.

You were already here.

Your hands clenched against his own, surprising him as you fell into him entirely, collapsing. Burying your face into his scarf, shaking with every stubborn breath you refused to let go.

But Sprout wouldn't have that.

Not as he wrapped his arms around you firmly. Not as he returned the tight grip you had on him, knowing you well enough to know the pressure would help you.

Not as he mumbled soft words and sweet nothings like he has countless times before.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay, please cry, be as loud as you want I promise, it's just us. Doors locked, everyone's still at the party, I promise. "

So you did. It was quiet, at first. Nothing but your shaky breathing filling the room before you eventually broke, sobbing loudly against him, gripping so tightly you were afraid he'd let go.

He didn't.

"It's okay. I'm here. Im right here sweetie—I'm here. "

"I'm sorry—" you hiccuped, struggling to breathe, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry."

His chest ached at your apologies. His hand rubbing your back in soft, circular motions for every broken sob that would leave your body.

He knew by now it's an old habit you still have trouble letting go of. Especially given your former 'handler' . He doesn't blame you for it, but he's sure as hell determined to convince you otherwise.

"You absolutely have nothing to apologize for, okay?" He murmured softly, moving to pull away briefly. His hands move to cup both of your cheeks, thumb gently wiping away stray tears.

You trembled under his hold, refusing to meet his eyes. You can't. You couldn't.

"I wish it felt that way." You whispered. Voice so quiet he nearly didn't pick it up, if not for how close he was to you. "I shouldn't—" Your fists clenched, digging your nails into your palm, "I shouldn't be like this. I should be better."

You were frustrated at yourself. He could tell. He knew. He knew that look. The same look you'd give yourself every time you'd make so much as a small mistake or when you began spiralling onto old habits.

"I hate it. I hate it so much, Sprout." You mumbled, shutting your eyes tight, leaning away to hold yourself, wanting for anything to make this feeling stop.

The room was silent for a while.

Part of you feared Sprout had just enough of you, when,-

"This isn't your fault." He said, firm yet gentle in the way his voice cut through the thick silence.

Slowly, he leaned closer, far enough to give you the chance to pull away, yet close enough to reach you. His palm rested onto your arm.

"—It never has been. Okay? It never will be."

Though you were hesitant, you tilted your head to look at him.

By now your hair was far too messy to be presentable, and face too worn to be pleasing...Yet..He smiled.

He smiled at you.

How could he smile at you when you were like this?

Your lips contorted into a wobbly frown, shaking your head. Slowly, your hand moved to rest on his shoulder, pulling yourself closer, if only subtly.

"... 'm sorry." you croaked out, gripping his shoulder a bit tighter. His other hand moved to rub your back, a silent nod to continue. "I.. I don't know why this happened again. I didn't want it to, I promise."

He softened, moving to hold you properly, his arms wrapping around your torso as he pulled you closer, kissing the top of your head. "Do you want to talk about it?" His voice was softer. Quiet. It was a welcome change compared to the loud chatter outside. Now muffled as the doors were comfortably locked.

There was silence for a while. Not that Sprput minded. He'd patiently wait for you any time, that he was sure of.

Eventually though, you do answer.

Your voice was quiet, at first. Unsure, yet honest. Maybe foolishly so, but what else was there to hide, at this point?

A soft sigh escapes you as you burrow your face into his scarf, finding comfort in the familiar scent.

".. I..I dont know.". You mumbled softly, eyes falling shut. You were so tired.

"Everything was just....So loud. And the lights were so bright. Too bright— I hated it." You mumbled quietly. ".. It's like, " you paused, mulling over the words, ".. It's like everything hitting me, all at once. All at the same time. And it feels bad... it's just..so..." You trailed off quietly, before letting the thought go,

"—Sorry." you breathed out, hands feeling clammy as you buried your face further into his scarf, voice muffled, " Sorry I'm, uhm—I'm rambling."

"No, no—" he pulled back, placing your hands on top of his, "By all means, I'm glad you're rambling...You're being open." He spoke softly, his thumb rubbing your palm in slow circular motions. ".. That's a step forward, right?"

You blinked at him, a bit taken aback by the response.

Huh.

That... That was much more positive than what your brain had been conjuring up over the past few months, that's for sure.

You stared at him, your throat felt dry.

"... You,.." you trailed off, hesitating near the end, ".. You're not mad?"

"I—what?" His eyes widens at the question as if you had told him the sky was brown of all things before swiftly recovering, squeezing both of the hands that were clasped in his, voice so resolute it left no room for doubt,

"No- what? Of course not. Worried, sure. But mad?"

He shook his head, moving to press his forehead against yours, sighing softly.

"Of course not. None of us are."

His hands rubbed soft circles onto your palm,

"We just want you to be okay. We love you. I love you. And this—?" He motioned his hands dismissively, " This doesnt change that. Especially, because, it's out of your control."

A small smile forms on your lips at this, feeling warmth spread through your face, chuckling quietly. You feel tears prick your vision, almost wanting to pull away out of embarrassment if it wasn't for Sprout's iron grip on you.

He smiled back, softly rubbing the tears away with his thumb. "I love you." He repeated.

"I love you. All of you." He mumbled softly, moving to press a kiss to your wet cheek, making you yelp as you giggled. He grinned at the sight.

You settled down quickly, your fits of giggles dying out before shaking your head, feeling flustered, yet.. better. So much better.

There was a lull of silence for a while, yet it was comfortable, with you two simply holding each other, and enjoying each other's warmth.

You'd smile as he'd traced silly random patterns onto your skin, every now and then he'd press a kiss onto them, whether they were scarred or not.

".. I don't deserve you." You spoke after a while, making him scoff, pulling away as he gave you a look of mock offense.

"Please." He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. "Don't be stubborn with me, Because I'm telling you now, you won't win. Ask Cosmo."

* Don't ask Cosmo. Oh boy don't get him started.

You laughed, quiet yet warm. He smiled at the sound, feeling relieved at how you seemingly were returning to normal. Slowly, yet surely.

"You deserve everything and more," he spoke your name lovingly, making you smile like a lovesick idiot, "Don't let anyone convince you otherwise, yeah?" Kiss. He pressed another kiss to your other cheek, earning a bashful grin from you as you halfheartedly shoved him away.

"Pft, going soft on me now, Sprout? What's next, you'll let me whip somethin' up in the kitchen?" You grinned, wrapping your arms around the sides of his face.

He leaned his face closer, cupping the hand that held his cheek, narrowing his eyes pointedly,

"Oh you wish. You are not stepping foot near my stove after your last little cooking-fiasco with Gigi and Finn. Leave the dreaming to Astro, okay?"

You cackled, letting yourself laugh louder this time as your forehead bumped into his, giggling. A silly smile rested on your lips, eyes landing onto his, "You're such a dork."

A snicker bubbles from his throat at the remark, voice dropping to a whisper as you two grew closer, "Says you."

You grinned, moving to close the gap between you two, sighing softly as you relaxed into the kiss, lips pressing softly against his before pulling away. His gaze was soft, as he looked at you, "I love you."

And, without missing a beat,

"I love you too."

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—The other two are relieved to find the both of you later, asleep and safe in each other's arms.

Your dreams are filled with comfort.