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marblemoovt · 3 months ago

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Birthday Cake - Sylus/MC

Masterlist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: None. Fluff with slight Angst.

Summary:

It's Sylus's birthday, and what better way to celebrate than baking him a cake?

----

“Tell me, what’s the occasion?” He brings his face closer, and his breath fans against your skin. He tilts his head, and you resist the urge to lean forward and kiss him.

“Did you forget your own birthday?” you chuckle, not expecting his eyebrows to twitch. You pause and gape at him. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Of course not.” Sylus smiles, and warmth seeps from his gaze. The surprise in his eyes disappears as if it was never there, and his nose brushes against your ear, tickling the side of your face with his hair. “I wasn’t expecting the feisty kitten I picked up to remember, that’s all.” His hot breaths cause your pulse to stutter, and his lips graze against the spot behind your ear.

Note:

Hello!! I've kind of been dead to the world. School has kept me busy, and most of my free time is divided between my other commitments. So any writing lately has not been for myself (which I'm not complaining about lol).

I'm a little late to the party, but it's still his birthday where I am, so of course I had to write something for my pookie.

I want to preface this by saying I do not play the game because my wallet cannot support it, and I have not watched the lore in depth due to the amount of free time I have. So this is all a mixture of the clips I've seen and the research I've done. (I do plan to watch all the lore at one point, but I fear it will heighten my obsession)

I am a Sylus and Caleb girlie at heart. They are my favourite LIs. I hope to write more for them in the future. But for now, this is my debut into the fandom!

I do want to say that this story is probably not compliant with the canon timeline. From what I could find out, MC and Sylus probably spent his first birthday together as a couple? They're not dating in this fic because I thought that would spice things up more. I will say I felt absolutely diabolical with the dialogue at one point.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

Bzzt

Your phone on the kitchen island rumbles against the white stone countertop. Flour coats your palms and fingers as you tap the sieve above the mixing bowl. All the dry ingredients snow down in a light brown powder with any stubborn clumps bouncing against the metal mesh. Setting the sifter to the side, a cloud of dust puffs in the air as you clap your hands clean.

Bzzt

The screen lights up, and you recognize the profile picture. Despite it being his birthday, Sylus insisted on treating you to dinner. You grab the device and swipe to unlock it, reading his text. A small laugh escapes your lips, and your fingers fly across the keyboard, hitting send and turning your phone off. There’s still time before the promised meetup, and you’ve enlisted the help of Luke and Kieran to keep him busy during the start of his day.

You tap the faucet to activate the water and wash your hands in the sink, drying them on a towel before you grab the wet ingredients for the cake and turn away to face the island. The large glass window behind you muffles the whirr and tick of mechanical wings flapping. Ruby eyes glint in the waning sunlight, and black feathers bathe in the orange and pink hues. The presence hovers for a few more moments before disappearing into the shadows. After cracking the eggs against the mixing bowl’s rim and adding them individually, you pour the buttermilk and melted butter. The sweet scent of vanilla fills the air as you tip the small vial of essence.

The mug of coffee on the countertop is warm to the touch, and minimal amounts of steam rise from its dark brown surface. You mix the batter until smooth and dump the entire cup into the bowl. Gently, you stir everything together, your mouth watering as the coffee interacts with the cocoa powder, amplifying the intoxicating and rich chocolate scent. A beep resounds in the kitchen, the numbers on the oven flashing ‘180 C’. Smacking the whisk to shake off the excess batter, you use a rubber spatula to divide the mixture between the two cake pans you greased earlier.

Heat blasts your face as you open the oven door. The fans hum in the background while you slide in the pans. Fiddling with the buttons, you set the timer for half an hour. Hopefully, the cake will be baked and cooled off before Sylus arrives at your apartment. You retrieve your phone, and the clock displays 19:00. There’s still an hour before you’re expecting him. You retrieve the caramel you made the day before from the fridge, leaving it next to the microwave in case you need to warm it up.

Next, you take a carton of heavy cream and a packet of chocolate chips. After pouring the cream into a glass measuring cup, you mix in half dark and half semisweet chocolate. The cup clacks against the microwave plate, and you punch in the numbers for 30 seconds. A quiet buzz fills the room as you watch the concoction spin in circles. You continue doing this until the chocolate has completely melted, forming a ganache. Grabbing your sharpest knife from the drawer, you chop up some pomegranate seeds, sliding the blunt side of the blade against the wooden cutting board to dump them into the rich chocolate mixture. The ganache is still a bit runny, so you set it off to the side to cool and thicken.

The timer chimes, and the sugary scent of chocolate fills the kitchen. You slide on some oven mitts and transfer the cake pans onto cooling racks slowly. Crying because you dropped Sylus's birthday cake was not in today’s plans. Heaving a sigh, the oven mitts land against the counter with a flop.

Strong arms cage your sides, and you hear a deep inhale near your right ear. “Mmm.” A low voice rumbles. “Something here smells delicious.” The familiar drawl stirs the butterflies in your navel and his forearms flex. “The cake smells good, too.��

Your fingers reflexively grab the rubber spatula, and you spin around, pressing the handle into his throat. Red eyes look at you with mirth, and your grip falters. What are you going to do? Spatula him into submission? “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you say, lowering your hand.

Sylus grabs your wrist and brings the broad silicone tip to his mouth, running the flat of his tongue against it. He licks his lips, smacking them together. “Chocolate? Oh, Sweetie. You spoil me,” he says.

You shake the spatula at him. “You shouldn’t eat raw batter,” you scold him.

He tilts his head and the right corner of his mouth quirks. “Worried, are we? It takes more than raw flour and eggs to take down the leader of Onychinus.”

Shaking your head, you scoff and push him away, oblivious to the flicker of emotion in his eyes that flashes and disappears. “Just because you can survive a gunshot to the heart doesn’t mean you’re immune to the effects of food poisoning,” you say, walking to the sink and adding to the pile of dishes. You grumble when you realize it won't last long until his body recovers.

Sylus crosses his arms, watching you move around the kitchen and cleaning up. His eyes soften when you’re not looking, and he can’t help but notice how domestic this moment feels. Thoughts of you in his home and cooking meals together flit through his mind. He imagines waking up and having breakfast while you eat dinner and tell him about your day. But not yet. “Careful, Kitten. I might misunderstand and think you care about me.” His tone is smooth as always, covering the hairline fractures in his facade, which keeps the dragon in him at bay.

You press your lips into a thin line, unwilling to fall for his bait. The feelings hidden deep in your chest will remain there for the foreseeable future, no matter how much they seem to grow by the day.

Sylus walks around the kitchen island, lifting you onto the countertop and bringing you to eye level. “Your silence wounds me,” he says, resting his forehead against yours. His fingers rub circles into your hips. At this distance, his scent wraps around your senses. Warm and smoky with hints of leather and pomegranate. Sometimes, the faint smell of gunpowder and iron clings to him, but you rarely catch him like that. “Tell me, what’s the occasion?” He brings his face closer, and his breath fans against your skin. He tilts his head, and you resist the urge to lean forward and kiss him.

“Did you forget your own birthday?” you chuckle, not expecting his eyebrows to twitch. You pause and gape at him. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Happy birthday, Sylus,” you say. Muscular arms wrap around your torso and pull you close, sliding you off the counter. Your feet hit the ground, and his large hand presses your head into his broad chest. “Sylus?” A wall of muscle muffles your voice. You breathe in the scent that’s unique to his person. It’s the one that always fills you with longing when you notice its potency dwindling from the room.

“Stay.” His words rumble against your skull. “Stay like this for a little longer,” he says, tightening his hold on you. You nod, leaning into his touch. Your ear rests against his chest, hearing the erratic rhythm beating against his ribcage. You feel your cheeks tingle with warmth, grateful he can’t see your expression right now. “Can you… say it again?” You lift your head, and Sylus averts his gaze briefly before returning to meet your eyes. The playful lilt in his tone is nowhere to be heard, and his face is devoid of its signature smirk. “It’s my birthday, don’t I get to hear it as many times as I want?”

You close your mouth with a smile. Laughter overtakes your body, and you relish in the faint pink that tinges the tips of his ears. You bring a hand up to rub the warm cartilage between your fingers. Sylus leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as quiet rumbles come from his chest.

“Happy birthday, Sy,” you repeat. “I hope all your birthday wishes come true.”

He inhales sharply, glancing down at you with a smirk. “Thank you, Sweetie. I hope so, too.”

You stare into his ruby eyes, unsure what to make of his blown pupils. It’s often hard to guess what he’s thinking. “The cake must have cooled off by now,” you say, clearing your throat.

“Trying to run away? Admit it. You like me,” Sylus says.

You dig your pointer finger into his chest. “Don’t let this inflate your already frighteningly large ego, but I don’t dislike you.”

Sylus’s eyebrows raise, and he steps back. “Like a cat, you can be affectionate at times,” he says. When you stand there in a daze, he chuckles. “Come on, then. Don’t you have my cake to decorate?”

You blink and shake your head, grabbing the ganache and caramel. The cakes come out of the pans easily, and you level them with a knife. Sylus stands next to you, his tall frame hunched over as he rests his elbows on the countertop, watching your every move. You grab the second layer and cut the top, pausing when you notice the scraps from the first layer are missing. Sylus looks at you with an innocent smile, jaw moving up and down.

Rolling your eyes, you offer him a piece of what you removed. Sylus stares at your hand and moves his arm to inch closer. His lips wrap around your fingers, playfully nipping your thumb before returning to his spot. He has an amused expression while you stumble over your words, and you eventually fall silent after stuttering one too many times.

You turn away from him with a huff, slathering a layer of caramel on the bottom layer before stacking the cake. It stands tall without leaning to either side, and small amber globs ooze from the middle. The ganache is poured next. Streams of thick, dark chocolate pool on the top, spreading from the center and spilling over the edges. You set the measuring cup down, licking the sticky remnants from your fingers as red eyes bore a hole into the side of your face.

It feels like there’s still something missing, something you’re forgetting. The familiar scent of wood and leather envelopes your surroundings, and you lean into the broad chest behind you. Sylus wraps one arm around your waist like a puzzle piece slotting into place. He holds a bowl of pomegranate seeds in his other hand, shaking them before you.

“Looking for these?” he asks.

You hold out your hands, and he places the bowl in them. “Yes, actually. Thanks,” you reply. The juicy kernels land on the chocolate ganache, and you try to sprinkle them evenly. The pop of red contrasts nicely against the brown, and you can’t wait to dig in.

Something warm and heavy rests against your shoulder.

“Thank you,” Sylus murmurs against your skin.

“What was that?” you ask, glancing over at him.

Sylus chuckles. “I said, let’s eat.”

“That is why I made it,” you say, grinning at him. You rummage through your drawers for a candle and a lighter. Sylus is still attached to your waist, which you don’t mind, so you don’t say anything. His footsteps shadow yours naturally. He doesn’t let go until you reach the sofa in your living room. You set the cake on the coffee table and stick the candle in, taking a seat on the floor. Sylus sits beside you, crossing his legs and watching as you ignite the flame.

Bumping your shoulder into him, you bounce on the spot. “Make a wish!” you say.

Sylus stares at the flickering flame and then back at your face. His lips twitch, and the confident drawl returns to his voice. “What can a man who has everything wish for?” he says.

You roll your eyes. “There must be something you want. Something you don’t already have.”

He looks away and exhales through his nose. A wry smile forms on his face. “There’s nothing like that. I have everything I need here.”

“You must be terrible to shop for. Luke and Kieran are probably left in tears whenever they have to get you a gift,” you tease. “Still, you should wish for something!”

Sylus hums, closing his eyes in silence before blowing out the candle. The faint aroma of burning wax settles in the air.

You lean against the table, propping your chin against your hand. “So, what did you wish for?” you ask.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” he says.

“I thought you already had everything you wanted? What difference does it make if you tell me?”

Sylus looks at you with one brow raised. “I never said that,” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him, but his posture remains relaxed. Sylus mirrors your pose and leans on the table.

“Fine. Keep your secrets,” you say. “It’s part of your mystique allure.”

Sylus smiles. “Mystique allure? Are my charms working on you?”

“Maybe in another lifetime,” you scoff.

Sylus freezes, eyes widening slightly. You’re too busy cutting the cake to notice. He regains his composure, trying not to let his disappointment slip through the cracks.

The knife slices through the decadent layers, and you cut a generous portion, intending to share a piece. The rich, chocolatey scent has been driving you crazy since it came out of the oven.

You hold the fork to his mouth. “I hope you like it. I made it just for you.”

Sylus dips his head to take a bite, plump lips wrapping around the metal prongs. He groans when the flavours hit his tongue. The sweetness and tartness of the pomegranate cuts through the richness of the chocolate and caramel. Overall, everything is well-balanced, and the cake doesn't feel heavy.

“Sweetie, you made this?” He chuckles and licks the crumbs from his lips. You nod and feed him more. “This is the best cake I’ve ever tasted.”

You breathe a sigh and smile. “Oh, good. I was worried since I never made it before.”

“Make it again for me next year,” Sylus says. He takes the fork from you and stabs the cake, bringing the bite to your lips. “You’ll have plenty of practice by then.”

“Who says I’ll celebrate with you next year?” You give in to temptation and eat, nearly moaning from how delicious it is.

Sylus smiles and brings you more cake. “I’ll do my best to persuade you,” he says.

It’s a team effort that finishes the slice. Sylus doesn’t even ask you before getting up and doing the dishes. He insists when you tell him there’s no need. You won’t admit it out loud, but it’s funny watching the most feared man in the N109 Zone stand in your kitchen and wash cutlery.

“Shall we go?” Sylus asks, wiping his hands with a teatowel.

“Go? To where?”

His lips curve. “To dinner. Don’t tell me you forgot?” he says. You look away and wipe imaginary dust off your counters. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Of course not,” you say. “...Where are we going again?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says. “I left a present in your bedroom. I think you would look beautiful in it, and I would be honoured if you wore it to dinner.”

“It’s your birthday. You should be receiving gifts, not giving them.”

“Oh, trust me, Sweetie. This is a gift for me.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating before wrapping your arms around him. You don’t let the moment linger too long, pulling away and rushing to your room. Hopefully, next year won’t be so awkward.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Bonus scene:

Sylus opens a window and holds out his arm. The mechanical crow lands, greeting him with a caw. Mephisto lowers his voice when Sylus brings a finger to his lips. Sylus strokes the smooth, metallic head and listens to the bird’s report.

“How cute,” he mumbles, imagining you bake the cake. Sylus refuses to admit he panicked a little when you didn’t respond to his text in the usual timeframe. Damn Luke and Kieran for drowning him with work. He’ll have to deliver an adequate punishment for them when he returns home.

The crow pecks at his hand, and Sylus snaps out of his thoughts. “Hm? What did I wish for?” he says, chuckling when he receives a caw in response. “I suppose I can tell you. After all, a wish is nothing more than a desire with no plan.” He glances at the hallway and notices the bedroom door is still shut. “For as long as I’m able. I want to spend all my remaining birthdays together.”

End Note:

Yeah, so I kinda wrote this like the devil possessed me. I'm just glad this is coming out on time 😭

I wrote this on a whim, and you most likely will not see anything from me again for a while. There's a backlog of wips for other fandoms that I need to finish.

I’ll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

#love and deepspace #sylus x reader #lads sylus #sylus x mc #lnds sylus #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #fluff #domestic fluff #no y/n #slight angst #they're not dating #yet

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marblemoovt · 3 months ago

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Love And Deepspace Fics

Masterlist

Key:

💖 - Fluff

💔 - Angst

💋 - Smut

Sylus 🍷

Oneshots:

Birthday Cake - Sylus/MC 💖

You bake a cake for Sylus's birthday

#love and deepspace #sylus x reader #lnds sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #lads fluff

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marblemoovt · 5 months ago

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Will request ever be open?

Not for the time being. All of my writing time has been focused on commissions. I currently don't even have any time to write for myself

As always, feel free to send a request. If I like it enough, I'll eventually write it. I say requests are closed because I can't guarantee I'll write them.

I have requests from ages ago that I still want to write but just haven't had the time to work on.

#marbleasks

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marblemoovt · 7 months ago

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hiii! How is the yuushi fic going? :) have a good day/night, take care! >.<

Between school and commissions, I haven't touched it lately 💀

I keep running into that problem where I'm almost done but I add more scenes. It's me. I'm the problem 🤡

It's now at 21k words, more than double the length of my last Yuushi and K fic and an absolute nightmare for me to proofread. But I think I just have to wrap up the ending, make sure I didn't leave any scenes unfinished, and then it's ready for editing!

I feel kind of bad for the people who have been waiting over a year to read this fic, but I hope it's worth it when it's finally uploaded. 😭

Slight nsfw snippet below:

Yuushi carries you to the stool by the shower head, and he turns you around to sit on his lap. He adjusts the temperature before washing your body. His touch is gentle, almost reverent. As his hands glide along your skin, sometimes he’ll plant a kiss. On the back of your neck, along your shoulders, on the pulse point behind your ear.

You lean into his chest, melting into him. Yuushi’s hands reach around to cup your breasts, gently pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefingers. Your back buzzes after you let out a whine, and Yuushi nibbles your ear affectionately, whispering low apologies.

He lets go and massages your tender peaks, murmuring praises into the nape of your neck that send a rush of warmth throughout your body.

“I know,” his hands skirt down your stomach, “I’m sorry.” Yuushi cleans up between your thighs, rinsing the stickiness off of them. You shudder as the water sprays the rest of your skin. “Just a little longer, Angel,” he speaks softly.

You sigh, blinking at the fuzzy lights in the ceiling, grounded by the random song Yuushi hums under his breath. He works quickly, showing off his intimate knowledge of every curve of your figure.

#marbleasks #lady k and the sick man x reader #lady k and the sick man

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marblemoovt · 8 months ago

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Very soft for this man, especially with the way I write him 🥺

Snippet:

Yuushi sets you on the bed, patting you dry with the towel before drying himself. He grabs your favourite pair of pajamas and helps you dress.

Still shivering, you seek refuge underneath the blankets, curling up in the fetal position as you wait for the sheets to match your body temperature. You peek to see Yuushi pulling a baggy sweater over his head, giving you one last glimpse of his toned muscles before they disappear behind the fabric. Your eyes remain fixed on his figure even as he puts on a pair of boxers and sweatpants.

“Are you gonna keep oglin’ me?” Yuushi glances over his shoulder at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Maybe,” you grin lazily, the pillow smushing the side of your face. You lift the blanket with your arm, enduring the invading rush of cool air. “Come here so I can ogle you up close.”

The mattress dips as Yuushi crawls beside you, and he still faintly smells of your body wash. The lingering scent of his aftershave clings to the collar of his sweater. You can feel his breath fan your face, and he reaches over to brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Pretty,” he murmurs to himself.

—————

YES IM STILL WORKING ON IT 😭

#lady k and the sick man x reader #lady k and the sick man #yuushi totsumoto x reader #wip #this is like 20k words now :’)

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marblemoovt · 10 months ago

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Just wanted to let you know you're doing god's work for writing for our resident DILF Yuushi. There's barely any fics about him and I'm STARVING FOR THIS MAN 😩.

Ahhh thank you. I feel so bad because I’ve been working on the fic for about a year now (a lot of that year was spent not writing 🥲)

I’m now sitting at around 17k words (almost 18k!) and I’m pretty close to finishing. Although this means I have to edit and proofread once I’m done 😅

But I hope it does justice for the requesters and those that have brain rot for this man as much as I do.

Fluff snippet below:

~~~~

Yuushi hugs you tight, and the air is squeezed out of your lungs. He picks you up and does a little spin, your legs locking around his waist. His laughter stirs a fuzzy warmth in your chest, and you can’t help but join in. Time stops momentarily as you gaze into each other’s eyes. The dark circles underneath his eyes are still prominent, but they’re slowly getting lighter.

“Can I kiss you?” Yuushi’s breath fans against your face and his gaze flickers to your lips.

“You don’t have to—“

“No, but I felt like it,” Yuushi shrugs. His mouth grazes yours, and you feel them tingle with static. “So? Can I?”

You cup his face in your hands, staring down at him. He always calls you cute, but Yuushi can be quite adorable at times himself. Your thumbs pull at the corners of his lips. “If I say no?” you ask, knowing very well you would never refuse.

Yuushi turns his head and nips at your fingertips, flicking his tongue over the smooth pads. His grin widens at your small shriek. “That’s your loss, not mine,” he says. He chuckles at your slightly puffed cheeks. “Are you pouting, Angel?”

You squish his face together in an attempt to cleanse the bitterness from your mouth. “I’m not,” you protest.

Yuushi hums, barely able to pronounce his words correctly. “And I’m not dying to kiss you.” He bends over, and your reflexes kick in, arms flailing to secure themselves around his neck. His hair tickles your face and his breath feels hot against your skin. “But we both know we’re lying, so why don’t you just give in, Sweetheart?” He wets his lips, dropping his gaze. “Let me taste you again.”

#marbleasks #lady k and the sick man x reader #lady k and the sick man #yuushi totsumoto x reader #wip

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marblemoovt · 10 months ago

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This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.

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marblemoovt · 10 months ago

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Crawls out of my coffin

I know I'm supposed to be working on that Yuushi fic, but Fields of Mistria happened and March entered the chat. A friend sent an artwork of him in a bikini and what started out as a small prompt to weed out the brainworms is now a 4.7k word fic and still counting.

This will be a smut fic, but the snippet below is SFW

“It looks good on you,” you bring a hand up to your chin and circle March, smirking at the faint flush that coats his body. Leaning closer, you dangle the tag on his collar, admiring the letters etched into the metal. March did it himself. He hammered your name on the back and his on the front.

The swimsuit is made of blue fabric and white ruffles that barely cover his flesh. A triangle spans across his chest, held up by a string around his neck that hangs on by the grace of god. The bottom piece…. Well, let’s just say the top used most of the available fabric.

With his rosy cheeks, March looks away from you and pouts, placing his hands in his lap. But it’s too late. You’ve already seen the bulge outlined in his swimsuit and how it’s only gotten bigger. His shoulders hunch forward at your laughter, and the tips of his ears glow bright red.

“I can’t believe you’re making me wear this,” March grumbles. He picks at the blue nail polish you applied an hour ago and stops when you scold him.

You brush back his hair and keep it in place with some cute clips you bought. “A bet’s a bet,” you say in a sing-song voice, “and you lost!” You toss the thigh garter and other accessories into his lap, and he reluctantly slips them on. You ghost your lips along his cheek and whisper into his ear, “Besides, I said I would reward you if you behave like a good boy at the beach.” Your grin widens when he shudders, and you can feel the warmth emanating from his skin.

#march x reader #fields of mistria #fields of mistria x reader #march fields of mistria

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marblemoovt · 10 months ago

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Thank you so much!! I'm honoured it's one of your favourite fics :D

Catch Me If You Can - Griffith/Reader

Masterlist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: None, just good ol’ fluff and some angst (don’t worry the ending is happy)

Summary:

As the crown princess, you’re expected to behave every bit like a lady. Except you frankly don’t care and live how you want much to the dismay of your parents. When Charlotte visits your kingdom, a banquet is held.

Somehow you manage to get yourself grounded a few days prior, but it’s no big deal, you’ll just sneak out like you always do. Except Griffith happens to foil your plans every time.

———

“I am afraid your parents have ordered everyone to escort you back to your room should they discover you escaping.”

“I wouldn’t call it escaping,” you mutter under your breath.

“And what would you call it, dear Princess?”

“I’m simply taking a walk away from my room and out of the castle.”

“As far as I recall, walks don’t usually involve scaling buildings.”

“What can I say? I like to take the scenic route—

Keep reading

#nice comments always have me sobbing #I swear I'm still alive #Just very slow at writing

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marblemoovt · 11 months ago

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you can pry starting sentences with 'and' or 'but' out of my cold, dead hands

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marblemoovt · 1 year ago

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Tail Training

MASTERLIST

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Fluff, A sprinkle of angst, Mentions/depictions of anxiety and depression. Anything else is in the tags <3

SUMMARY:

At a party, Whis notices that you have noticeably improved your bad habits and offers to train you. Much to your surprise, Whis suggests that you train your tail to eliminate it as a weakness. Will you be able to handle it when he grabs your tail?

------

“This is your first session. I thought some one-on-one training would be more appropriate,” Whis answers, still tugging me by the hand. “I want to start first with a weakness of yours—well, most Saiyans.”

We stop walking, and I stare at our hands still clasped together. When is he going to let go? “And what would that be?” I ask, trying to read his expression.

His violet eyes gleam with amusement, and he gestures with his head. “The appendage wagging behind you, your tail.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What’s my tail got to do with training? Am I going to learn to smack someone into submission with it?” My tail straightens and cracks down like a whip.

NOTE:

Here is another Whis fic! This was another commission. I'm not sure when you guys will see the next one. I was told this is meant to be a slow burn, so expect it to take a while before the relationship is official.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

It’s been a few weeks since Whis visited my house. Thanks to him, I'm motivated to take better care of myself. Even now, at this party, the first thing he does when he sees me is hand me a glass of water and steer me towards the snack table.

I raise the drink to my lips, hiding a smile. As Whis fills his plate with various snacks and pastries, I nod along and answer any questions.

“So this delightful morsel is called a ‘donut’?” Whis inspects the sugarcoated ball of fried dough.

“Yes, there are various toppings and fillings. You can put pretty much whatever you want on a donut,” I say, flinching when he whirls around and leans closer.

Whis looks at me with sparkling eyes, his skin flushed. “Anything? Truly?’ I nod in response, and he gasps. “Then what modifications have been applied to this one?”

“Um,” I look at the powdered sugar and red hole, “I think that’s just a jelly donut.”

“Fascinating. There are so many uses for pulverized fruit.” Whis pops the pastry into his mouth and moans. “Oooh, this is absolutely amazing!”

He continues to stuff more into his mouth until his cheeks puff. I have to look away to stop myself from laughing. Before I know it, I’m holding a plate of snacks and a new glass of water. Whis said he didn’t want to be the only one eating, and the attention felt nice. He remains at my side, refilling my plate when he notices it’s empty, and only leaves when Beerus calls for him.

I snap the last cookie from my plate between my teeth. The sudden silence feels too empty. I feel almost… disappointed? I glance across the room to see Whis introduce Beerus to donuts, smiling as the pair devour entire trays. With a full stomach, I can at least focus on hanging out with my friends. I make my rounds to greet everyone, stopping occasionally to talk.

During one of these conversations, my palms grow clammy, and I start to second-guess myself. Am I entertaining enough? I’m not…boring to talk to, right? My grip tightens around my cup by a fraction, and I down the rest of the drink, hoping it dislodges the lump in my throat.

A few pairs of eyes stare at me, and I realize they’re all waiting for me to respond. How long were they waiting—did they think I was ignoring them? I lick my dry lips, unable to think of what to say, too embarrassed to admit I didn’t hear the tail-end of the conversation.

“What were you all discussing?” Whis butts in, resting his hand on the small of my back. He rubs small circles into my skin, and the tension melts from my body. Someone catches Whis up, and I flash him a grateful smile. ‘You’re alright,’ he mouths to me, squeezing my waist gently. I nod, flushing the negative thoughts from my mind and focusing on the warmth of his hand.

I begin losing track of the conversation, paying more attention to how I’d rather be at home than socialize for another minute. People start noticing that I’m quieter than usual but anyone who confronts me about it receives a snarky remark. This discourages the rest from trying.

“Are you alright?” Whis walks up to me, taking a bite of another donut. He must really like those.

“Peachy,” I say, clenching my teeth together.

Whis hums, and I bristle under his observing stare. “I feel suffocated after spending hours surrounded by large crowds. Would you care to join me on a walk?” he offers his arm to me.

I chew on my bottom lip and glance around. The chatter and laughter in the background tires me, not to mention the loud thrum of music that rumbles through my bones. It feels like someone took my brain and scrambled it in a frying pan. A break. A break sounds nice.

I accept his offer and link our arms together. He guides me outside to a quiet spot in a garden. There’s a bench by a stone walkway that circles a pond. Strings of fairy lights illuminate the area in a soft glow.

The crisp night air fills my lungs and refreshes my mind. We sit in silence as I regather my thoughts. “Thank you,” I say, staring at the lilypads in the water.

“I should be thanking you,” Whis chuckles. “Spending the night in such lovely company, I couldn’t ask for more.”

Our shoulders brush together, but his body heat is welcome. His white hair glows against his blue skin like moonlight cast on rippling waves. The warmth in his violet eyes makes my stomach squirm. Whis must think I’m cold because he wraps his arm around me and pulls us closer together.

“I thought I was getting better, but it was hard to keep talking after a certain point.” I sigh and lean against Whis, reflecting on the past few hours and every conversation I was a part of.

Whis pats my head and smiles. His eyes look soft almost, a tenderness I don’t usually see them hold. I ignore the flutter in my chest and stare at my lap instead, twiddling with my fingers. “I think your progress is remarkable. You’ve improved. Slowly but surely, you’ve gotten better,” Whis says.

“You think so?”

Whis laughs. “Yes. Compared to a few weeks ago, you’re much more relaxed, and when I tease you, you fight back now.”

A smile tugs my lips. “Yeah, you better watch your back.” I bump our shoulders together, but my confidence wavers at his wide grin.

“Excellent! Why don’t you train under me as well?” He looks at me expectantly, and I can already tell he won’t take no for an answer.

I blink and point a finger at myself. “You want me,” I slowly turn my hand and poke his chest, “to be trained by you?”

Whis nods. “Yes. It will be helpful in your work as a time patroller.” He grabs my hand and lifts my finger to point at his face. “So leave everything to me!”

I tilt my head, staring at his hand, which still holds mine. I’m glad he seems as comfortable with me as I am with him.

I sigh but can’t stop the smile from forming on my face. “Pft. Ok, why not,” I say, chuckling at how he lights up at my answer.

We continue chatting, but despite my mind being more alert than ever, my body demands rest. Lead weights attach to my eyelids, and my head droops now and then before snapping up as I regain consciousness. Whis walks me home, promising to wake me up on time for our training session.

I must be exhausted because I barely register the extra body in my bed, falling asleep to Whis’s comforting scent.

Other than waking up at the crack of dawn, the morning goes by without a hitch. Whis makes me breakfast, insisting I don’t leave a crumb behind lest it hurt his feelings.

Afterwards, Whis leads me to the training grounds, where we meet Goku and Vegeta. He provides them with instructions before guiding me to an unused section.

“You’re not training all of us together?” I ask, craning my head to see the two Saiyans spar. My eyes try to keep up with the blurry motions, but ping-ponging back and forth between them gives me a headache.

We stop walking, and I stare at our hands still clasped together. When is he going to let go? “And what would that be?” I ask, trying to read his expression.

His violet eyes gleam with amusement, and he gestures with his head. “The appendage wagging behind you, your tail.”

I glance over my shoulder. “What’s my tail got to do with training? Am I going to learn to smack someone into submission with it?” My tail straightens and cracks down like a whip.

Whis chuckles and shakes his head. “I heard squeezing a Saiyan’s tail can cause them to lose their strength entirely. One wrong move, and you’re completely paralyzed in battle. Is that correct?” His lips purse as if he’s impatient to reveal the answer.

“No, where’d you hear that nonse—Eek!” I shriek, feeling a jerk on my tail. My entire body stiffens, and every muscle refuses to listen to me. Whis lets go, and I attempt to burn a hole through his head with my glare.

He flashes a bashful smile, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “Sorry, sorry. What better way to test that theory than to conduct a practical test?”

I huff, the blood still simmering in my veins. “Okay, so what if it is true? I’ve lasted this long with it,” I say, smoothing out the fur. “That’s something many Saiyans can’t claim, especially not after everything I've been through.”

Whis nods, squeezing my hand. “The loss of your tail would be a shame. The world would lose the fluffiest tail I’ve had the pleasure of seeing,” he sighs and stares forlornly behind me.

Did he compliment my tail? I wag the appendage behind me, stifling my laughter at how his eyes follow its every move. Is my tail that interesting? “What do you suggest I do about it?” I say.

Whis tilts his head and raises his brows. “We must desensitize you of course. Your tail must learn to endure being touched to strengthen its tolerance,” he says as if the solution is obvious.

I tug my hand free from his grasp and cross my arms.“You just want an excuse to touch my tail.”

Whis brings a hand up to his chest and gasps. “I am astounded by your accusations. I am merely helping you to become stronger,” he says.

I narrow my eyes at him, but he remains unphased. In fact, he looks happier than before. “Alright, fine,” I relent, rolling my eyes at his burst of energy.

“Wonderful! Have a seat on these boulders. I wouldn’t want you to injure yourself.” He pats the flat surface of one of the rocks, rocking on the heels of his feet.

I sit, flicking my tail nervously. “Just so we’re clear, this is only for training purposes. I don’t want you getting any strange ideas.” It’s not like I never considered this option before, but touching a Saiyan's tail always felt intimate to me. How could I ask just anyone to do it?

Whis nods. “Crystal clear. Now, let’s start with something easy and increase the intensity slowly.” He gently pets my tail, stroking the soft fur. “How does that feel?” he asks, peering at my face.

I struggle to keep my expression neutral, fighting the muscle spasms. “Doesn’t bother me at all,” I say.

Whis raises a brow, humming in thought. “Really? Looks like I need to take it to the next level then.” His eyes have a mischievous twinkle as he applies more pressure to his touch.

“Hng.” I bite my lip to prevent any more noises from leaking. A familiar heat returns to my cheeks, and I can feel myself start to sweat.

Whis stares at me with wide eyes, and his mouth stretches into a grin. “What was that? Starting to feel a little weak, are we?” He leans close, almost enough that I can feel his breath on my ear.

I refuse to look at him, gritting my teeth. “Not at all. I can handle more than this,” I say, despite knowing that I’m already near my limit.

“If you say so. Then what about now?” Whis grabs my tail, holding it firmly in his hand.

“I-I…” My entire body freezes up again, and only static fills my brain. All my senses are on overload like every nerve is crackling with electricity.

Whis observes me in silence, and his brows knit together. “Are you sure this isn’t affecting you?” he asks, concern lacing his tone.

“....”

He immediately releases my tail. “Please don’t hesitate to tell me to stop. Your comfort comes first. I want you to enjoy this, not hate it,” he says.

I suck in a breath, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. I wet my dry lips with my tongue and mull over my thoughts, figuring out how to word my sentence. “I… I don’t mind it so much if it’s you.” I sneak a glance at Whis, who’s staring at the ground. The tips of his ears are pink, and he refuses to meet my eyes until they return to their usual colour.

Whis stands up and paces back and forth. “Shall we take a break? You’re looking a little winded. Perhaps a cold drink and a wet towel would help?” he says, offering his hand to me.

I shake my head and close his hand, pushing it back. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute,” I say.

Whis frowns and stares at his clenched fist. Is he upset I didn’t want to take a break? His posture straightens, and his usual smile is back. “Why don’t we make this a regular occurrence? We can repeat this session until you’ve become immune,” he says.

I purse my lips. “I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. It would be a great help if I didn’t have to worry about my tail while working.” I reflect on my career. I must have been lucky not to encounter someone taking advantage of this weakness, but it would only be a matter of time until I did.

Whis claps his hands together, bouncing on the spot. “Excellent. Same time tomorrow, then?” He looks at me with puppy-dog eyes, and I forget my outrage momentarily. But then I remember how sensitive my tail felt while he was ‘training’ me and my pride snapped me back to reality.

“What?! I’m not doing this every day!”

“I’m only joking,” Whis chuckles, but then he pauses, and his smile widens. “Though if you wanted to…” He leans forward, and I shove his face back to create some distance.

“No. Maybe once or twice a week, and in return, I want you to cook me breakfast those days,” I say. There’s no way I would let him touch my tail for free, training or not. I may not completely dislike the thought of him seeing me in such a vulnerable state, but it’s only fair I receive something in turn.

Whis sits beside me again. He rests his elbow on his thigh, propping his head up with a hand. “You do realize that I’m not at a disadvantage? I get to pet your tail weekly and provide you with my cooking,” he says, smiling at me. His confident smirk irks me. My tail thumps against the rocks, and I stop it when I notice it only amuses him further.

“Shut up. I’m the one making the demands.” I cross my arms and frown, still sweating from the training session. I tug at my shirt collar and shudder as the air hits my damp skin. From far away, it looks like Whis and I have wrapped up an intense physical training session, but the truth is too embarrassing for me to admit.

Whis grins, and there’s that knowing look in his eyes again, as if he can see right through me. “Very well. On the days we train, I shall make you breakfast in exchange for the honour of touching your fluffiness.” His hand reaches out to my tail, but Whis recoils almost immediately. He stands up and pats my head, praising me for my hard work. “I can’t wait to see you at our next session. In the meantime, do take care of yourself. You’ve been doing an excellent job, and I wish to continue seeing you in good health.”

And he leaves me there, still flushed and dazed. My tail tingles from his lingering warmth, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like for him to pet it again.

A few weeks go by quicker than expected, and I wake up to Whis cooking in my kitchen. He makes me a sandwich filled with eggs, bacon, lettuce, and tomatoes. As I munch on the food at the dining table, he watches with his hands propping up his chin. He smiles at every move I make, and I become aware of my tail swishing.

“I would say you’ve built enough tolerance. We can shift our focus to other areas,” Whis says, lifting a napkin to wipe my lips. His hand lingers before he pulls away and crumples the tissue into a ball, flashing me a smile.

I nod. “Thank you. My tail feels a lot stronger.” I glance over my shoulder, admiring the muscle I’ve gained.

Whis’s eyes remain fixed on my tail. “Yes, it appears more voluminous than before,” he says, tapping his fingers against the table.

I can’t help but laugh and bring my tail closer to him. “You can touch it if you want. Just let me know in advance and I’ll let you pet it a little,” I say. “Consider it an exclusive benefit for helping.”

Whis reaches over and strokes the fur, eyes gleaming. “Marvelous,” he whispers in a breathless tone. Not once does he grab it, only touching my tail with gentle pets. His cheeks flush a light pink as he beams at me. “Thank you,” he says.

I coil my tail around his wrist and hand. “You can touch me more. I’m not as sensitive now.”

“Pardon?” Whis stares at me with wide eyes. His skin almost looks purple and his hand starts to feel clammy against my tail.

I hope he’s not getting sick. Can angels even catch illnesses? “My tail. You’re always so intrigued by it. Thanks to the training I can even handle a few harsh tugs now,” I say.

Whis blinks owlishly before nodding and sinking bonelessly into his seat. “Right—of course. I’m honoured to be granted such a privilege.”

Maybe training three Saiyans is taking a toll on him? Come to think of it, I haven’t done much else to show my gratitude. “Do you want to stay for lunch?” I ask.

Whis sits up straight and grins. “I would love to.”

“Great!” I unwrap my tail and stand up, heading to the kitchen. “I’ll make something you haven’t had yet.”

Whis follows close behind, and despite his persistent questions, I refuse to answer any of them, laughing at his sulking figure.

END NOTE:

When I tell you I gasped when that last misunderstanding popped into my brain, I was shook

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Taglist: @lovecats123451

#whis x reader #whis dbs #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball #dragon ball super #commission #no y/n #gender neutral reader #slow burn #fluff #slight angst

129 notes · View notes

marblemoovt · 1 year ago

Text

Dragon Ball Fics

MASTERLIST

Key:

💖 - Fluff

💔 - Angst

💋 - Smut

Whis/Reader

Oneshots:

Take Care - Whis/Reader 💖💔

Whis helps Reader take better care of themselves

Tail Training - Whis/Reader 💖💔

Whis trains Reader's tail to not be so sensitive

#dragon ball x reader #whis x reader #dragon ball masterlist #dragon ball #whis dbs

15 notes · View notes

marblemoovt · 1 year ago

Text

Take Care - Whis/Reader

MASTERLIST

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Fluff, A sprinkle of angst, Mentions/depictions of anxiety and depression. Anything else is in the tags <3

SUMMARY:

Sometimes it’s easy to forget when to eat or do basic care, but it becomes an issue when it happens frequently. And Whis has started to notice that something is wrong. When subtlety doesn’t cut it, a confrontation is required, and sometimes hidden feelings are revealed in the process.

------

“Nobody has seen you in days,” and he states it like a fact.

Any excuses that I’ve created disappear from my mind, and I have no ammunition against his claim.

“The others have started to notice. They’re—I’m worried.”

I stare blankly, before bursting into laughter. “You? You’re worried about little old me?” I grin and shrug off his hand. “Thanks, but I’m doing perfectly fine. I was planning to visit today.”

“I can see that you’re troubled,” he says, and I squirm underneath his penetrating gaze.

I avoid his eyes and shrug my shoulders. “This is my normal resting face,” I say with a lazy grin.

Whis holds my hands. “Just know that I’m here to help because I care.” He clears his throat and switches topics. “Now, let's get you something to eat.”

NOTE:

Hello! The last time I posted a finished fic on this site was October of last year (°ー°〃)

I did not experience any life-threatening situations. I didn't survive an accident and upload this from a hospital bed on the verge of death as I struggle to type this all out. My life is not that chaotic, and I appreciate that it's 'mundane'

Life happened and I got a bit burnt out. I have other hobbies that also take up a lot of my time and commissions that are prioritized over stories I write for myself.

That being said, this story was a commission and they graciously allowed me to share the fic publically. I don't often write in first-person, but expect any subsequent Whis fics to be in the same format.

Also, just a fair warning that I know absolutely nothing about Dragon Ball other than what I was able to gather from the Wiki and a few clips.

Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o

“This is delicious. Try some,” Whis says, offering his plate to me.

The squeak of metal cutlery against porcelain pierces my eardrums as I push my food around. It takes great effort to maintain my smile. “No thank you,” I decline. I can barely stomach what I already have. Accepting his offer would be a waste of his kindness thanks to my absent appetite.

It’s not like I didn’t want to eat, but more that I couldn’t. There was no desire for food. And if there were, it would be forgotten once another task consumed me. My limbs ache for the comfort of my bed, weary after a long day at work.

The chatter around me becomes grating to my ears, and every cell in my body screams to run, hide, and be alone. I glance at my friends, admiring their energy compared to my low social battery. The food is tasteless on my tongue, and I set my fork down, forcing myself to swallow the last mouthful.

“Are you done already?” Whis asks, and he almost looks… surprised?

“People normally stop eating once they’re full,” I say, pushing away my plate—still full of food.

Beerus snatches my plate and dumps the contents into his mouth, shrugging at Whis’s look of disapproval. “What? They said they were done,” he says.

I stand up and wave goodbye to everyone. With no remaining evidence of my recent eating habits, they all respond like usual. Some even suggest I take a break from work to hang out more.

The only one who’s different is Whis.

“At least take some for later,” Whis says, handing me a small bundle. I peek inside and see a variety of snacks.

“Thanks,” I say, hoping the exhaustion doesn’t slip into my smile.

The mask doesn’t come off until I arrive home. I set the snacks down on my desk but decided it would be safer to refrigerate them. The bright white light sears into my retinas, and I blink until my vision clears. There’s no competition for space, and the bundle looks lonely in the fridge.

I shut the door and hope I don’t forget about it.

After staring at the list of chores I promised myself I would complete, I opt to just sleep.

The same routine repeats. Over and over—until Whis appears at my front door one day.

“Beerus sent me on a hunt for delicacies, and I absolutely cannot carry it all. I was walking and remembered you live nearby,” Whis speaks behind a tower of food. It’s honestly impressive how nothing has fallen yet.

“An almighty being such as yourself can’t handle a bit of manual labour?” I snark, biting my lip to contain the laughter.

“Even if I can’t see your face, I can still tell you’re making fun of me,” he says. “Will you help me or not?”

I glance behind at the dust building up on my floor and the cleaning supplies that sit abandoned in the cupboard.

“Why not,” I say with a nonchalant shrug, shutting the door behind me. “I can take time out of my busy schedule to help.”

Lies, but they came out of my mouth with such ease. At least today I won’t lay in bed and realize hours have passed in the blink of an eye.

The journey is silent as I balance a stack of cookies and chocolates. But the lack of conversation makes me sweat. Am I being too awkward? Maybe I should say something, but my mind is blank.

“I haven’t seen you at the dinners lately,” Whis says.

I nearly stumble in my steps. “What?”

“Your absence has left a profound emptiness at the tables.”

His face is still hidden behind boxes and bags.

I purse my lips and say, “Work has kept me busy lately.”

Whis’s thoughtful hum fills the gap in our conversation. “Pace yourself. Nothing good ever comes out of overworking,” he says.

I stare at him, unable to decipher his tone. He sounded—dare I say—concerned for my well-being? There’s no way. This is Whis we’re talking about. To him, I hold the same significance as a bug crawling on the ground.

We continue in silence. Worries that I did something wrong plague my thoughts. But Whis makes no further comment and thanks me when we reach his destination. He offers some of the food as a reward.

A companion for the lone bundle that still sits in my fridge.

Life continues in its monotonous cycle, with each morning harder than the last. Some days I’m lucky to even get out of bed.

Working overtime becomes automatic at this point and my attendance at gatherings is now sporadic. Sitting at home, the sunlight reveals tiny particles floating in the air, and laundry has begun piling up in the hamper. Did I remember to shower today?

Despite all this, I can’t bring myself to do anything about it. But seeing myself slide down that slippery slope of neglect further propels my anxiety, which fuels worries over my inability to just get things done. It’s a vicious cycle. Neverending. It leaves me ragged, too exhausted to haul myself out of the depressive pit I’ve dug myself into.

How long has it been since I’ve seen my friends? I need to visit soon; I don’t want to worry them. Otherwise, they’ll come to visit me, and then they’ll see how pathetic I really am.

A knock on my door sends my heart leaping into my throat. I sit up, my limbs tangling in the sheets.

“Is anyone home?” A voice calls out. It’s muffled by the door, but I recognize it immediately.

Maybe if I keep quiet, he’ll go away?

“I know you’re in there. I can sense your presence,” Whis says. A rap knocks against the wood. “Please open the door before I resort to more… intrusive methods.”

I scramble out of bed and run to the door, flinging it open.

Whis’s eyes widen, and he stares at me without a word. He lets out a low whistle and asks, “What happened?”

“Why do you care?” It comes off more snappy than I intended, but I can only beat myself up for it later.

He ignores my question and steps around me to enter inside. “I knew you weren’t eating well lately, but this is… getting out of hand.”

“And how would you know that?” I scoff and cross my arms. Whis is indifferent; it's a core part of his personality. The destruction of entire planets doesn’t phase him. Now he’s going out of his way because I skipped a few meals here and there?

“My powers of observation are quite astute. I deduced something was wrong due to the discrepancy between the amount of food you and other Saiyans consume,” Whis says, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I flinch but do my best not to recoil from his touch. The uneasiness gives way to a comforting warmth. I want a hug, but I’d rather die than tell him that.

“Like I said, work is hectic, and I haven’t had much time to cook or eat,” I say.

Whis doesn’t look like he believes me.

“Nobody has seen you in days,” and he states it like a fact.

Any excuses that I’ve created disappear from my mind, and I have no ammunition against his claim.

“The others have started to notice. They’re—I’m worried.”

“I can see that you’re troubled,” he says, and I squirm underneath his penetrating gaze.

I avoid his eyes and shrug my shoulders. “This is my normal resting face,” I say with a lazy grin.

Whis holds my hands. “Just know that I’m here to help because I care.” He clears his throat and switches topics. “Now, let's get you something to eat.”

The fridge pops into my mind. “I still have those snacks you gave me.”

Whis wrinkles his nose and says, “Those must taste dreadful by now. I’ll have to dispose of them before you attempt to eat any.”

“I wouldn’t eat cookies that have gone bad!”

“No, but you would leave them in your fridge until an entire bacterial colony grew. Let me take care of you today. Go. I’ll prepare a meal while you cleanse yourself.” He waves me off to the bathroom.

I grab a change of clothes, sighing at the laundry that awaits me. “Whis?” I turn to look back at him.

“Yes, darling?” And I swear my heart nearly flops out of my chest. I fight to keep the fire underneath my skin under control.

“Thanks,” I mumble, hiding my face behind my hair.

“Anything for you. Anything.”

And somehow, I can feel that he means it.

I step out of the shower, and the air is cool against my damp skin. I feel better; my thoughts are clearer and less jumbled. The smell of cream and garlic wafts through the house, and I immediately start salivating.

I speed walk to the kitchen, where Whis adds chicken to a skillet and stirs in some cheese. There’s an ache in my stomach, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this hungry.

He doesn’t say much, only smiles and says that it’ll take a few minutes for the sauce to thicken. I watch as he plates the pasta, trailing after him to the dining table.

“Have a seat,” Whis says, patting his legs.

My eyes feel like they’ll pop out of their sockets. “On your lap?” I ask.

“I must ensure you eat an adequate amount.”

I stare at him, waiting for him to say he’s kidding or that it was a joke. But he waits in silence, smiling wider when I stumble over my answer. “Um, well—ok?” I say, sitting down in a daze.

Strong arms wrap around my waist, and Whis’s breath tickles my ear. “I won’t release you until you consume everything on this plate.” His tone is firm, and he teases me with a squeeze.

I’m glad he can’t see my face well. I clear my throat and pick up a fork, twirling a generous amount of pasta before shoving it into my mouth. The milkiness of the cream and cheese, combined with the garlic, makes for a rich sauce that complements the chicken. I can’t contain the content noises as I continue eating.

“Someone’s happy,” Whis chuckles.

“I’m not.”

He hums and leans back. “That’s not what your tail tells me.”

Only now do I notice my tail is wagging back and forth. I have to make a conscious effort to keep it still, willing it to stay down.

“I don’t even like Chicken Alfredo,” I say.

“Then why is it always the first dish you eat when it’s available?”

He’s close. Too close.

His skin feels like ice against mine, and I struggle to hear anything over the thundering of my heart.

“And how would you know that?” I ask, squirming in his hold.

Whis keeps me locked tight in his arms. “Because it would be disrespectful to not know the favourite food of the one I love.”

“You… love me?” I whisper, feeling an ache in the back of my throat.

“I do, and I want you to love yourself just as much. So please let me help. Please confide in me.” He rests his chin on my shoulder, and his presence envelopes me with comfort and peace.

The last wall in my defence crumbles.

It all spills out of me. Everything I went through in the past few weeks, how hopeless I feel, the anxiety that gnaws at my ribcage like a greedy little rat. He listens to me, nodding and offering words of comfort.

“You’ll be alright,” Whis says, stroking my hair. His cuirass is streaked wet with my tears, something I apologize continuously for, to which he reaffirms that it’s ok. “You won’t feel this way forever, and you don’t have to endure it alone. Asking for help is not shameful. I think it’s brave. To ask for help is to admit your faults and acknowledge that you seek improvement.”

“It is?” I sniffle, not wanting to add snot to the mix.

“You have your friends, and, most importantly, you have me,” Whis says. His expression is tender—shy. Can you imagine? The indifferent immortal shy?

I didn’t know he could hold so much affection in his eyes.

I wipe my face with my sleeves, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Can you make me Chicken Alfredo every day then?” I ask.

Whis gives me an incredulous look. “Every day? Won’t you get sick of it?”

I shake my head, smiling at the thought of seeing him in my kitchen daily. Maybe I could buy him an apron?

“On one condition,” Whis says, and I wait with bated breath. “You allow me to aid you in cleaning your house.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” I trail off, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

A tug on my tail surprises me. “You’re so cute when you’re excited,” Whis laughs, holding the animated appendage in his hands. He kisses my burning cheeks and says, “I know you would appreciate my company.”

I take the last bite of my pasta and show him the empty plate. “I’m done eating, can you let go now?”

Whis releases me, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll take that as a yes then,” he says.

We spend the rest of the day together, cleaning around the house. I tackle my overdue laundry and Whis washes the dishes that have piled up in the sink.

By the end of it all, I was exhausted but happy. The house looks great again; it looks like it did before I stopped cleaning. Seeing how orderly my environment became actually eased some of my anxiety, which is a huge weight off my chest.

“Thank you, Whis,” I say with as much sincerity as I could muster.

He pats my head and says, “It was no trouble at all. Don’t worry, I’ll always be there to catch you if you fall.”

Heat prickles my skin, and the apples of my cheeks tingle.

“Does this change anything between us?” I ask, fidgeting with my fingers.

Whis tilts my chin up to meet his gaze. The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Only if you want it to,” he says.

I stare at the wall behind him. “Only if you do,” I mumble.

Whis claps his hands together. “It’s settled then. Now sleep, I'll make you breakfast in the morning,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I nod, following him in a daze as he leads me to the bedroom. Whiz’s laughter echoes through the hallways, and I end up holding my tail to stop it from swishing. No force in the universe can stop my tail once Whis climbs into bed with me.

“I’m making sure you rest well,” is his excuse, but I know better.

Sleep comes easy to me that night, the spot on my forehead still tingling. Whis’s arms keep me warm and I inhale his scent as I’m pressed against his chest. His gentle voice lulls me to sleep and I dream of food, Chicken Alfredo, and Whis and his affectionate gestures.

END NOTE:

This fic might become a series. I'm not sure whether I'll upload it as one (chapters) or individual one-shots. Probably the latter as I don't think they'll directly happen after each other.

I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ

Taglist: @lovecats123451

#dragon ball x reader #whis x reader #dragon ball #dragon ball super #whis dbs #commission #no y/n #gender neutral reader #slow burn #fluff #angst #Reader does not take good care of themselves #but Whis is there to help them

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