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bravo4iscool · 2 days

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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a friends to lovers x reader for any of the 141 (you get to choose) where the reader is plus size and she avoids them touching her? Because she knows she's plus size and doesn't think this super attractive soldier would ever even like her, much less her body, and every time she is touched she kinda pulls away, but our soldiers are so down bad for her? 👀 And ultimately maybe she gets pulled onto a lap and immediately tries to get off? Smut or no smut, it's up to you!

Thank you lovely!! 💞💞

i like this. i like this very very much hehehehe. i chose simon (i always chose him, i really have to change that😭) (i hope you're okay with that tho. it's my personal headcanon that that man is a chubby chaser by heart lol).

as someone who's also plus-size i adore requests like this so much! i hope i could write it the way you imagined it :)

also, sorry this took me so long😭. i had a bit of a slump lol (also, please give me feedback on the smut part, i never really write smut🥲 and im a virgin lmao)

smut, plus-size!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, fem!reader, not proof-read!

(masterlist | join my tag list!)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

tag list - @yazt09 @blackhawkfanatic @bumblebeesfromvenus

"don't touch me simon," you mumble as you push his hands away. "you know i don't like that..." you shuffle away from him and clutch the little notepad you scribble down your customers orders.

he frowns—as always—and gives you a small smile. “‘m sorry lovie. i forgot.”

you nod and straighten your back. “your usual?” you ask, already knowing that he’ll answer with yes. and he does. then you look at the rest of the team, one eyebrow raised. it was rare that they took something else than their usual.

“positive,” price replies, as well as gaz.

“i’ll take whatever ye gimme,” johnny winks and you feel yourself blush. simon just rolls his eyes. he’s getting fed up with his best friend already.

you give johnny a honest smile and scribble something down. “10 minutes and i will be back with your drinks,” you tell them, turning to leave.

once you were out of reach johnny elbowed simon into the side, a devilish smirk on his face. “have ye told ye lassie that ye like her?” he wants to know, wiggling with his eyebrows.

“zip it johnny,” simon only grumbles, starting to bounce his knee. “i ain’t tellin’er nothin’.”

“but why? ye clearly like her.” johnny frowns. if he were in simon’s position he would’ve shot his shot weeks, if not months ago. you were—you were perfection. those curves, those hips and—god forbid—your stomach.

you were hypnotising and you didn’t even know it. johnny didn’t understand how simon could just sit and watch you. he would’ve done anything to get a taste of you, or even just a glance.

“she ain’t interested n’me johnny,” simon sighs after a moment of silence. “i won’t destroy what we have over my stupid feelings.” and with that the debate was over for simon.

before johnny could answer you return with the drinks, placing them down onto the table. “here ya go,” you smile.

“thanks lassie,” johnny grins, patting your hand. you immediately pull away.

you try to overplay it. “no problem. let me know if you need anything else.” you leave with hurried steps, praying you wouldn’t encounter touch again this evening.

‘fuck’ you thought when you realize: all seats were taken. this was not good, nope. you just wanted to turn around and leave without anyone taking a notice of you.

but then soap notices you, “ey lassie. com’ere!” he smiles and waves at you. with hesitant steps you walk in his and simon’s direction. giving a apologetic look to the other people. this was a movie night, not some coffee gossip round. it was rare that you were on base and on most occasions you tried to avoid it but johnny and gaz practically begged you to come so you had no other chance than to say yes.

a few moments later you stood in front of the group of men—your friends—unsure what to do. were you just gonna sit on the ground or… before you can even finish that thought a arm wraps around your waist and someone pulls you into their lap. you can‘t suppress a small yelp, your eyes blow wide.

“‘s j‘st me,“ simon whispers into your ear, sending a cold shiver down your spine. you wanted to leave. now.

“simon,“ you hiss. “let me go. i‘m way too heavy for you—“

but instead of following your request his arm around your waist only tightens. “i‘m a big guy. i can handle it,“ he only says in a low voice. with that the topic was done for him and you knew arguing wouldn‘t make sense. once simon was determined about something there was no way to chance his mind.

so, you sat in his lap the whole movie, squirming from time to time; afraid you were too heavy for him, afraid that you would hurt him in any way. meanwhile, his hands were caressing our waist, pulling you closer to him so you‘d stop wiggling around. if you wouldn‘t stop he‘d some have a problem…

beside simon johnny was throwing side glances at him, smirking when he noticed the struggles his best friend was having. he wished he was in that position… if only he‘d been a tad faster than simon you‘d sit in his lap right now and he knew he wouldn‘t be the same after than.

“y‘alright lassie?“ johnny asks as soon as the movie is over and the lights got turned on. your face was red and your pupils blown wide. you only manage a nod, trying your best to get off simon‘s lap as normal—and fast—as possible.

“i think—i think i‘ll go home now. i have work tomorrow morning,“ you smile, still embarrassed. “i hope i‘ll see you tomorrow or are you shipping out?“

“not for at least two weeks,“ simon answers and you nod and turn to leave but then he gets up too and you stop in your tracks. you raise your eyebrow at him and he shrugs. “‘m gonna get ya home,“ he simply says and you nod again.

“alright. see you soon guys,“ you wave your goodbyes to gaz and johnny.

once you and simon where out of reach johnny started to smirk. “ohhhh, he‘s tryna get laid,“ he laughs, glancing at gaz beside him.

“100%“ the other man agrees, hiding his laughter behind his hand. “the question is if she‘s understanding all the signs…“

you unlock your door, simon towering over you from behind, his presence like a burning sensation you couldn‘t seem to ignore. “and we‘re there,“ you chuckle, stepping aside. “you can, uh, leave now,“ you tell him but instead of turning around he takes a step inside your flat, closing the door behind him.

“what if i don‘t want to?“ he asks, slowly coming closer to you. “what…if i want to spend the night with you, mh?“ he‘s looking down at you, his hand itching towards to your face.

you swallow, trying to hold his gaze; it seemed impossible. “why would you want that?“ you want to know, unable to phantom any reason he—out of all men—would want to spend a night with you.

he smiles at your question and lowers his head. “because i like you,“ is his answer before he starts to trails kisses down your throat. your breath gets caught and your hands rush to grip his arms. what was happening right now? this must be a dream…

"if you want t'stop, tell me," he mumbles against your neck, slowly pushing you back until your back hits your drawer. you swallow but turn your head to give him more space. it just felt so good.

your breath hitches when he finds your weak spot. "i don't want to stop," you manage to say and you feel him smirk against your skin.

he scoops you up into his arms and you yelp. "that was what i wanted t'hear," he says and seconds later his lips collide with yours as he makes his way to your bedroom. you feel like a feather in his arms, so light and free.

"been wantin' t'do this f'r a long time," simon breathes against your lips when he gently drops you down onto your bed and he pulls back. "y'look so beautiful..." his eyes admire you and you start to blush. you weren't used to being appreciated like that. especially not by men like simon.

he sits up, kneeling in front of you. then he pulls off his shirt in a smooth motion, tossing it aside. your eyes widen and you swallow again. oh steaming jesus, he looked better than you thought–

and suddenly you get aware of your looks again. you try to hide behind your arms as fast as possible, not wanting simon to see but he beats you to it. with gentle hands he grabs your wrists and pulls them away. "why're you doing that, mh?" he wants to know and you avert your gaze.

"i...don't know..." you mumble. "i just–"

he cuts you off before you can finish, "y'think i don't find ya attractive, do ya?" your blush is answer enough and he bents down. "you're the most attractive woman i've ever laid m'eyes upon..." he tells you in a whisper, placing kisses upon your face.

"you don't–"

"oh, i mean it. with every fiber of my being," he, again, cuts you off, not wanting you to doubt his attraction to you. you were beautiful, etheral even, and he didn't know how other men didn't see it. "let me worship you," he pleads, kissing your lips.

he pulls slightly back again and looks in your eyes. he wanted your consent before continung. if you'd say no, he'd stop. if you'd say yes, he would ravish you.

you hesitate for a second before you drag him back down by his neck and press a kiss to his lips. "please," you choke out, looking at him with hooded eyes.

he smiles, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing it upwards. "your wish is my command love." with gentle hands he starts to undress you, trailing kisses all over your body. he wanted to you to feel good about yourself, to feel attractive.

and with every passing moment he was itching down towards your core, smirking when he feels you twitching and shuddering.

“si—simon,” you moan when his lips ghost over your clothed cunt.

he does it again, looking up at you through hooded eyes. “shhhh,” he coos, his tumb caressing your thigh. “b’good f’r me, will ya?” he was straining himself to not rip your clothes off when he started undressing you piece by piece. he wanted to cherish you, burn the image of you sprawled across your bed—naked—into his mind. who knew when he’d be able to see you like that again?

it felt like a haze, the way he was undressing and worshipping your body, his eyes rarely leaving yours. he wanted to you feel seen, to feel lusted after because that was exactly what he was doing.

he came face to face with you again, his lips finding yours while his hand cupped your pussy. your breath hitched. “so ready for me,” he chuckles, his tumb carefully starting to stimulate your clit.

a whine escapes you when he pulls his hand back after a few moments and he can’t suppress a smirk. “oh, ya needy, aren’t ya?” you only manage a nod, your mouth falling open when you feel him slipping one finger inside. “gon’ work ya well open first, love,” he tells you before he starts to litter you with kisses again.

with a steady rhythm he pumps his finger in and out of you, trying to pay attention to your body’s reaction as best as possible. he wanted to make this about you and you only.

he was sucking bruises onto your skin while moans dripped past your lips. oh, he felt like he was in heaven. “keep makin’ them sounds f’r me love,” he mumbles as he starts to hump your bed. his dick was painfully hard by now and he needed to feel some relief.

you gasp and writhe and whine, grabbing his arm to feel something between your hands. “please simon,” you cry out with your back arching off the mattress. “i wanna—“ he shuts you up with a kiss.

“i know what ya want.” and exactly that is the moment your orgasm ripples through you. a dragged out moan leaves your mouth and your fingernails bore into the flesh of his arms. “j’st like that,” simon coos, carefully removing his hand from your cunt.

you gasp for air as you come down from your high, still not 100% sure if this was real; because it didn’t feel like it. you release simon’s arms from your grip, swallowing when you saw the marks you left.

in the meanwhile simon fully undressed himself, his painfully hard cock finally getting set free. he looked at you and a smirk tugged at his lips when he noticed you staring. he tugged at his cock before he crawled back onto the bed to hover about you.

you look up at him, unsure of what to do. it’s been probably years since you’ve last had sex. it wasn’t that much of a regular thing in your life.

“ya ready?” he asks you after he connects your lips in a gentle kiss. you nod and he carefully starts to open your legs further. “i’ll be gentle, yea?”

simon’s hands caress your thighs before he aligns his cock with your entrance and trains his eyes on you as he starts to push himself inside.

your mouth falls open and your hands find their way back to grip onto his arms. a tear slips past your eye and a loud moan drags past your lips. “simon—oh my god!”

he grunts, doing his best to hold himself back from restlessly pounding into you. he didn’t want to hurt you. “no god ‘ere love. only me.” he bends down to kiss you and one of his hands starts to stimulate your clit again.

when he fully bottomed out it took all of his self control to not come immediately. he’s dreamed of this for months, years even and not it was finally happening.

“takin’ me s’good,” simon whispers in your ear, slowly pulling his hips back, making you whine before he pushes them forward again, pulling another moan out of you. “this pussy was made for me, huh.” a cocky grin was on his face.

you nod and babble, too overwhelmed by that pleasure that was so unknown to you. “wanna be good for you,” you cry, clutching his arm with your hands. “please simon.”

he starts to trail kisses down your throat while he keeps his thrusts in a steady rhythm. he felt his orgasm building but he wouldn’t come before you didn’t. this wasn’t about him and his pleasure, this was about you.

you moan, “oh—oh—“ when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. “i’m gonna come simon,” your voice trembles.

“i know,” he grits out as he fastens his thrusts and keeps stimulation your clit. the way you were clenching around him had him seeing stars. you were so close.

and then he pushes you over the cliff, your orgasm rippling through you with a force you didn’t know as possible. your vision fades to black and your mouth falls open as simon fucks you through your orgasm.

he’s trying his best to keep his composure when you clench around him, almost milking him but he pushes through, managing a couple sloppy thrusts before he comes with a deep moan, fully burying himself inside you.

his eyes are closed as he tries to take a deep breath, a faint ‘i love you’ leaving his lips.

(i’m sorry the end is like that. i’m terrible at endings🧍🏼. i didn’t know how to properly cut this😭)

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strang3lov3 · 14 hours

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Holy fuck! Not one, but TWO milestones to celebrate!

Sometime in April I hit 5000 followers and I was gonna celebrate then, but with my one year fic anniversary gbu899i (< my cat Gizmo typed this, we're leaving it here. Everyone wave to him) and mostly because the end of the semester right around the corner, I decided to wait until May in order to give this the attention it deserves. Here we are! May 10th marks one year of me writing fic here on tumblr, and I want to celebrate both achievements.

Your support has played such a vital role in making writing such a gratifying hobby of mine. Whether you’ve been here since I started writing a year ago or just recently stumbled across my blog, it means the world to me. Having people read, like, reblog, comment, and engage with my fics is beyond fucking incredible. You keep me inspired to keep writing.

It’s not easy for me to stick to a hobby for a year. Ask the 20% finished afgan I started knitting two years ago that hasn’t been touched in months!! It’s beyond cool to have both a date on the calendar and such a pretty number to reflect how hard I’ve worked, and neither the date nor the number would be possible without you. Thank you 🩷

So we’re gonna celebrate. I haven’t done one of these before, unless you count the time I hit 2000 followers and said “send me requests!” and then did just one of them and zero others because I was so overwhelmed. So we’re taking a slightly different approach this time…

I’m thinking an extended sleepover, lol. Depending on how many participate, for a week or so you can send me asks from the prompts below and we’ll have some fun with them.

@noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal heavily inspired these choices with their recent follower celebrations 🩵

🐈‍⬛ Show and tell - send me pics of your pets, or Pedro if you don’t have any pets, brownie points for Kieran Culkin pics, or anything else that you love. And tell me all about it, and I’ll show you something I love! 👯‍♀️ I want to get to know each other better, so tell something about yourself or ask something about me. If you want, you can use this and this (⬅️ two send an emoji posts) for prompts 🏞️ Request a Moodboard (my favorite) I love doing moodboards, just tell me what you wanna see and I’ll do my best. 🗳️Send me a poll that you wanna see! Ask any question, let us all decide the answer. 🍆 Send me your dirty horny old man headcanons. I’m a horndog for some old men and I can’t change who I am. 📖 Send me your own writing (or another’s work that you love) I actually have a summer reading project where I’ve tagged each and every one of my mutuals to send me their own works for me to read all summer. So consider this just an extension of that- please send me the links to works you’ve written and/or works you’ve read and enjoyed so that I can enjoy them too and support fellow writers ✍️ 🩷 I enjoy just about anything, but I have a soft spot for dark/dub-con, masturbation, uhhhh anything hot and dirty like that. 👩‍💻Request some writing. I can do Joel, Roman Roy, and I’m maaaybe feeling brave about Frankie. @beefrobeefcal has dibs on my first Frankie fic anyway. Horny and debauched thots encouraged, dare I suggest dark as well? Fluff too, though I think I suck balls at writing it. I’ve been told I should do drabbles,,, that’s not really how I roll with my writing but I’m willing to try. It’s entirely possible and actually likely you’ll get a full length fic, in which case, it’ll take some time to get those done so bear with me. Depending on how many requests for writing I get, I may cut off requests at a certain point too. *It’s also possible I won’t jive with your idea, in which case please don’t feel bad. I only want to write something I feel I can do well, and if I can’t, that’s not on you.

GOD I am a rambler. I could have said so much less. But I hope to hear from some of you all and have some fun! Love you love you love you.

Tagging some friends, readers, and mutuals who’ve made writing what it is for me 🩷 I love you all @ievutebebe @pinkypromisepascal @yazsos @heartfairy @magpiepills @medellintangerine @merz-8 @bitchesuntitled @theweedisasterxoxo @covetyou @theywhowriteandknowthings @futuraa-free @smok3r7 @toxicanonymity @atticrissfinch @xdaddysprincessxx @whatsnewalycat @addictedtotlou @littlevenicebitch69 @marisferasiop @joelsgreys @just-some-random-blogger @ghostlovesbaguettes @sweetenerobert @swiftiegirliepop @joeloverture @dorims @munsonhoneybaby @umnitsa @nostalxgic @yazsos @rainbowcosmicchaos @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @starry-eyes-love @paleidiot @bluecookies-and-ink @beardedjoel @aestheticisinq @corazondebeskar @axshadows @kyloispunk @survivingandenduring @pedroswife69 @bean-is-reading @pedroshotwifey @casa-boiardi @knittingandfanfics @molt3ngold @worhols @iknowisoundcrazy @nostalxgic @pattwtf @cerridwen007 @corozondebeskar @blackmetalamazon @jazzysnazzys @sheepdogchick3 @alltheseperfectimperfections @mermaidgirl30

#````erdstrang3lov3 #<<another thing my cat typed #he loves apostrophes #strang3lov3 celebration #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy smut #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader

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teabutmakeitazure · 2 days

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Dissimulation - Continued Again

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)

>Word Count: 9.2k

>a/n: word vomit. i love him sm and i love having him do mental gymnastics just to get the girl (to get laid) also I wrote this in numerous pieces and by the writing changes you can tell lol. copium during finals. can't believe it's almost been a whole year since this fic was first published. also, I've had the same injury described later on. it bled a lot i thought i was gonna die.

Warnings: firearms, hidden blood kink, licking (I will not elaborate) childe doesn't like pillows, read at your own discretion

Part 1 | Continuation | reason why Childe #1 husband

Childe is waiting in the car.

That’s the thought that keeps repeating in your head. Honestly, it’s your fault. You insisted he not come with you inside, even going as far as getting mad at him when he initially refused. It’s only fair that you suffer the consequences of your actions.

You can still feel the muzzle of the revolver despite the layer of cloth separating it from your spine. How do you know it’s a revolver? Well, the bastard spun it before pressing it to your lower back. You’ve played enough video games to know what that sound belongs to.

“Stop walking so slow. Move it.”

You internally scoff at his words. If you move any faster, it’ll just be more suspicious. Well, good for you. If it’s suspicious then there’s a higher chance someone might intervene.

“To the right, right there.”

You do as he says. It’s not very tempting to disobey when there’s a loaded gun on your back. The man leads you down a small alleyway away from the hustle of the outdoor market. It’s dark, and there’s a pipe leaking somewhere. This is when dread really settles in, but you put on a brave face despite your trembling lip.

You hear the man click his tongue before ordering you to stop walking. The muzzle is still pressed to your spine, and he pulls out his phone with his free hand to call someone. “I got the girl here, so now you do your part.” Someone speaks on the other side, angering him. “You’re being delusional! This is the perfect chance,” he whisper-yells. “I got the girl here, so if things go bad, I shoot. We’ll at least do some damage.”

Shoot…? What the fuck did you get yourself into?

“The next time you call me back, it better be because the bastard’s dead or he’s given up.” With that, he angrily hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket. You’re left facing the dead end of the alleyway, your captor behind you with his back to the only exit and entrance. “So,” he starts, “where did you first meet him?”

You decide to test the waters. From what you gathered so far, you are valuable until the other guy fails in what he’s supposed to do (which you have no clue of). “Me?” You feign innocence. “Meet who?”

He presses the muzzle even harder into you, making you stumble a step forward. “Don’t play dumb with me. Even if I kill you right now, it won’t affect anything. So tell me, where did you first meet him?”

You gulp nervously, heart beating in your throat. “T-the convenience store. It was a random occurrence.”

“And you knew who he was?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Hah. Stupid girl. Do you not know you’re the one usually targeted when he makes enemies? That you’re the face that comes up when he pisses someone off?”

Gaze dropping to the ground, you can’t help but think of all the kind things he’s done for you so far as you answer. “I had no choice.”

He clicks his tongue. “What, so he forced you to be his girlfriend?”

“I’m not his girlfriend…”

“So you’re just a pretty lady he keeps around?” Amusement is evident in his tone. He’s messing with you before he kills you. “Considering how expensive it was to find out about you, you’re damn special. If there’s one thing I know about Tartaglia, it’s that he’s not the type to keep a girl around for nothing or just her body. And that’s precisely why you’re in this situation.”

If you’re going to die anyway, you might as well say it. Ah, sorry mama. Couldn’t help it. “You think I’m pretty?”

Surprisingly, he takes it well. “I won’t deny you have a pretty face. I can see why he’d go to lengths to keep you a secret, but nothing can be hidden forever. Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your face when I kill you.”

Great. Now there’s stinging behind your eyes. This really is it. Maybe you should’ve told your parents you love them last night. Shit, is this really the end? So much for wanting to buy a birthday present from the market. Now you won’t live to see your next birthday.

The man groans out of annoyance, hand diving into his pocket to fish out his phone. “How long is he going to take…” You can hear him aggressively tapping at the device, and you wait for him to start whisper-yelling on the phone again but all that comes is the muzzle being removed from your back as something loudly whizzes through the air, and he lets out a silent cry of pain.

Something behind you falls to the ground with a thud, and judging how his voice seems to come from elsewhere, he’s the one who fell. “No, don’t come closer. I’ll shoot! I swear I will!”

You stay still, unknowing of what’s going on. Panic overtakes your senses, and your hands start trembling as you start feeling sick. Your body is going into fight or flight, and you really want it to choose flight. As you bring your trembling hands up into your view, a familiar voice calls out from behind.

“[Name], darling. Stay as you are. Don’t turn around.”

You freeze at Childe's words, immediately pressing your palms to your ears to block out some sound only to end up making it slightly muffled. The man is spewing profanities at him, trying to get on his nerves. “You scared of your toy dying? Is that why you’re here? Or maybe you were scared we’d take your little toy away from you? Do all the things to her you do but worse?”

Footsteps lightly grow closer, likely stopping by the man writhing on the ground, clutching his leg. Something clatters to the side, presumably the revolver he may have been pointing at Childe. When Childe speaks, his voice is laced with venom. “The girl is mine.” The man grunts, and Childe continues. “You have no idea how badly you’ve set me off. You better start praying to whatever you believe in.”

You cringe when you hear Childe kick him, heart beating even faster than before. Nausea tugs at you, making your eyes lose focus as you resist the urge to throw up or fall to your knees. Hands are still pressed to your ears when a body comes to stand behind you, yet it’s when arms wrap around you that you horribly flinch and move to elbow whoever it is, hyperventilating as you struggle to be freed.

However, Childe’s voice whispers in your ear, instantly making you relax. “It’s me.”

You are way too panicked to say anything useful. “Yes. Alright. It’s you. Not anyone else. Okay. Okay.”

One of his hands moves to cover your eyes, and he instructs you to keep them closed as he leads you out. The other hand is on your shoulder, and when you are away from the alley, he uncovers your eyes. Childe leads you to the market, stopping when you both enter its busy environment. He pulls out his phone, presses it to his ear without even dialling or accepting any call and hastily spews out the location of where you were earlier, firmly telling whoever it is on the other side to ‘deal with it’.

Nausea still stirs inside you, making you sick. You can feel the ghost of the muzzle pressing against you, and although you weren’t so horrified by it when it was actually happening, you are now.

Once again, Childe’s attention is back on you. His eyes focus on you solely, forgetting the busy environment around him and forgetting the issue he was addressing on the phone. He looks… concerned. Like a mother hovering over her child, he grabs your face with both hands, turning it side to side and carefully eyeing your features. He then pulls you into a hug, but you are too busy hearing your heartbeat in your ears to reciprocate and simply hide your face in his jacket instead.

“I’m so relieved,” he whispers. “Did he say anything to you? Hurt you? Touch you?”

After a shaky inhale, you focus your gaze on a random light source, willing away the sickness in your stomach. “No. Just a gun to my back. That’s it.”

“I am so sorry.”

Unfortunately, the nausea does not relent. “It’s fine.”

He holds you tighter. “It’s not fine. You were in danger.”

Though his warmth is comforting, you cannot move to hold him back. You can taste bile in your mouth, and you start profusely swallowing, yet Childe continues voicing his regrets. “I should have come with you. I shouldn’t have listened to you-”

Your voice shakes when you interject, the fear of what else might go wrong in public. “Quiet, please. I’ll throw up.” Your request is met with him gently rubbing your back, ignoring any glances from onlookers. When he feels that you are somewhat calm, you are led back to the car, the air conditioning turned on and your seat reclined as you cover your eyes with your forearm.

You don’t know why you feel sick and you don’t know why you keep thinking of a bleeding wound, infected and deep enough to show muscle and sinew. Worst of all, you don’t know what you should do now. Should you just ask to go home? Should you go back in? Get what you came here for?

Maybe you’ll come back later, with Childe. There’s still some time in your friend’s birthday and you can get her something later or make something instead. Yeah. That sounds right.

“Feeling any better?”

Your companion’s question makes you grumble. There are so many things that go wrong these days. Your relationship with him seems to loom over you like a raincloud wherever you go. Always accompanying you like a blight on your existence. It also does not help that information about you had initially come to light because he bought the house you both currently live in a week before you made that deal with him.

You still remember that conversation in great detail. When you had finally got to the airport, what waited for you when you came back haunted you throughout the journey. This arrangement isn’t something you were looking forward to. Remaining a student on a tight budget who eats instant ramen half the time for dinner would have been more preferable.

“Is there any way I can help? Do you need anything?” Childe voices more questions, but this time you don’t feel annoyed at him. If anything, you should be thankful. Sure, that occurred because of him, but he did save you.

Hand reaching to set the seat upright, you mentally go over the words you want to say. Now facing him, Childe gives you a curious look before you speak, the edges of your lips already stuck together. “I’m sorry.” He looks taken aback, but you continue. “I’ll… I’ll listen to you next time. And thank you for saving me. I had already said my prayers and apologised to my parents in my head, so thank you for letting that go to waste. I would rather it not be useful.”

Childe blinks. With a chuckle, he smiles, giving you that typical lovestruck expression he has when you do something he finds endearing. “And I personally wouldn’t know how to break it to your parents. Not after your mom asked me to look out for you.” The reminder leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, yet Childe still has something to say. “Of course. You don’t ever need to thank me. As long as you’re mine, alive and healthy, I don’t need anything else.”

The confession makes your eyes widen, and when you open your mouth to question his words, he cuts you off. “Do you want to get what you came here for or do you want to go home?”

“Home,” you reply immediately.

He nods, a hand reaching over to grab your seat belt. The action makes your heart skip a beat - “out of surprise,” you tell yourself - yet Childe does not mind. He fastens his own seat belt after yours and promptly moves to reverse the car out of the parking lot.

It is halfway through the way that you voice your thoughts, and Childe seems to hesitate.

“We have snacks at home,” he says.

Him and his healthy habits be damned. “You mean fruits. I don’t want fruits.”

“They’re healthy. You need nourishment.”

“What am I? A plant?”

Childe holds in a laugh with an awkward cough, a smile still there. “No, but you are a very dear person. I’ll cut some apples into bunny shapes, and we can eat the oranges I got yesterday. I’ll peel them for you, like always.”

Unfortunately for him, you do not yield, even going as far as to use his name since it usually makes him more submissive. “Ajax, I almost died tonight. I would like to be able to binge eat a bag of chips as I ease my worries.”

He negotiates again, albeit weakly. “Darling, you have a habit of stress eating. I know you can’t help it, but I just want to make sure you’re at least eating things that are good for you.”

“A bag of chips just this once wouldn’t hurt.”

You can see the gears turning in his head, and with a sigh, he concedes. “Fine. But only because you want to and have been eating well without complaints these past few weeks.”

The words seem like a parent pointing out a child on their diet, gentle yet still delivering the message. Despite everything, you would never admit that ever since he started butting into what you eat, your skin doesn’t break out as much and you’re almost always hydrated. He doesn’t need to hear the positive effects his presence has on your life from your own mouth. And he sure as hell doesn’t need to know that his hydration checks throughout the day are the reason why you drink water.

Yesterday, Chil- Ajax asked you something you could not say no to.

You keep justifying your acceptance with it being a sort of payback for him saving your life the other day even though you know you’re scared of saying no to him. Or maybe you just wanted to repay his kindness. It’s not like you asked for his kindness, but he is giving it to you. Goodness, the way he looks at you sometimes when you talk is just… if you didn’t know any better, you’d describe it as creepy.

But it isn’t. It isn’t creepy because the amount of genuine love in his eyes is just ridiculous. How can someone look at a person with so much love knowing they don’t reciprocate to that intensity? How can they be okay with that? You know Ajax is absolutely, positively in love with you. There’s no doubt about it.

You know so much about his family, and he’s always finding an excuse to talk to you. He asks you to talk to him because he likes your voice, and he sometimes stays in the room while you talk to your parents because he wants to see you be carefree in conversation.

He always gets you what you want without you knowing. Heck, he even gave you a credit card linked to his account! You don’t use it, but he gave it to you.

Back to the topic. You’re going out for dinner with him tonight as a date. You both leave at 7: 15 pm on the dot, and it is currently 6. You are freaking out currently too because what did you willingly agree to?

You know that bastard has been locked away in his room for over an hour now. You know he was giddy ever since he got home way too early today because of your evening plans. He’s way too obvious. And desperate. He’s also getting desperate.

There haven't been any romantic advancements in your relationship. You’ve just fallen into a casual routine at this point, and you aren’t bothered when he is there on your bed at any time you turn to look at it, even if you left the door closed. He cooks for you most of the time, and sometimes you mend his clothes so that he doesn’t buy new ones while completely ignoring the magical appearance of a shit load of sewing materials after the first time you did it.

It’s all gotten normal at this point. Seeing his credit card in your wallet every single time you open it, having to look at his mask sitting on a side table in the living room, watching him remove the dual pistols strapped to his body when he gets home, and much more. It’s all normal now. You’re used to it.

Yet your nerves are about to burst because you’re going out for dinner with him in an hour.

Honestly, after the dinner where he licked blood off your finger, you haven’t gone out for food with him since. You mostly eat at home, but the most you guys have done is takeout.

Anyway, what do you do? You don’t want to try hard lest unforeseen and unwanted developments occur, yet you also don’t want to not try at all because it might sour his mood. The latter is unpreferable simply because you can’t bear to see him sad. Maybe you’ll put in a little effort. Not too much but a little.

Had Ajax not been in the mafia, you would have already accepted him. You know you’re delaying the inevitable, that he will get what he wants, but you still can’t help it. Your conscience weighs you down. His identity ties you close to hesitance and denial.

Nevertheless, here you are, a cream coloured maxi skirt flowing till your ankles and a dusty pink blouse with bishop sleeves. You can’t believe you actually wore this. Ajax was the one who gifted the blouse to you, saying something like the colour being nice and wanting to see you wear it.

Well. He’ll get his wish now.

After at least five consecutive minutes of staring into the mirror, you finally decide to put on some makeup. Nothing too much. A simple mascara, blush, and lipstick after whatever you ended up putting on your skin first.

Great! Now, shoes. Shoes…

You fish out a pair of nude sandals with a pointed tip and a one inch heel. Perfect. Seems like your mother giving you her old sandals came in handy. After checking if they fit, you take a look at the clock. There’s still twenty minutes till the clock strikes 7.

Twenty minutes of agony as nerves eat you from the inside.

Right at 7:02 pm, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. Shaking hands unlock the door, opening it to nervously meet eyes with your lovely housemate. He stands on the other side, hair parted in the middle as best it could be. One side is tucked behind his ear while the other hangs on his face, framing his jawline perfectly.

You take note of the black dress shirt and black pants. The sleeves are rolled up and his earring is still there. Also, why is his shirt so fitted? You know he’s ripped. He doesn’t have to rub it in.

“You wore the shirt,” he breathes out.

“It’s a blouse,” you correct.

“Beautiful.”

The way his eyes seem to look you over in awe makes your cheeks heat up. With an awkward clear of your throat, you snap his attention back to your face. “Didn’t you say you made a reservation?”

Ajax perks up at that. “Right! We should leave soon.”

You are then left to grab your bag and sandals while he goes to fish out his car keys and wallet. When you’re seated in the living room, trying to fasten the little buckle on the sandals, Ajax is wistfully staring at you from the kitchen, cheek resting in his palm.

“We would make a cute couple.” A sigh and he looks at your feet, silently wishing you’d ask for his help with it instead. “Do you… need help with that?”

To his not so very surprise, you brush him off. “I’m fine.”

“Huh.” He asks again. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

He still wishes you would ask for his help instead. Do you not realise that he would do anything you asked him to? He would willingly get on his knees for you, hands gingerly trailing up your legs before he decides to rest one on his shoulder, the other pulling him towards you as his hand travels upwards and-

“Ajax? It’s almost 7: 15.”

He snaps out of his thoughts instantly. You’re standing near the door now, head tilted in that cute way he adores as you curiously look at him. A hand quickly flicks the kitchen light off as he walks towards the door. This is going to be another test of his patience. He knows it. He just hopes you don’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight.

“I don’t get it.”

Childe looks at you curiously only to find you glaring at the open menu. “I don’t know what to get,” you say. “Can you order for me? Whatever you think is good here. You know the stuff I like and don’t like, so I trust you.”

The explicit trust makes him smile. As per your request, Childe orders for you, but it’s something different than his own so that you can try both things. If you like the food, he might even take you out more often. Eating out once in a while shouldn’t hurt. Not if he’s with you.

As he leans back in his seat, he finds you playing with the buttons on your sleeve. Childe hastily utilises the opportunity to scan the indoors, eyes quickly flitting over every single person present. None have noticed either of you, and none seem to be looking at you. Good.

A quiet ding sounds from your phone, the screen turning on for a few moments. You reach for it instantly, but Childe is quicker, his hand covering the device before you could grab it. You obviously look nervous because of the action, but he gives you a small smile.

“No phone while we’re out eating.” The expression on your face doesn’t change, so he adds in something else. “Please?”

You capitulate instantly, and he pulls the device closer to himself with a playful smile. He now has all your attention for this evening dinner. If Childe plays his cards right, he could monopolise this opportunity and possibly convince you more to actually go out with him. Or let him put a ring on your finger. Whichever you’d prefer.

But first…

“I wish we could’ve stayed home instead,” he sighs.

You raise a brow at his expression, simultaneously wondering why he’s looking at you so wistfully here of all places. “Why? Didn’t you want to go out for dinner? You were looking forward to this.”

“Yes but-” He bites his lip for a moment. He isn’t lying. He’s being completely honest, but it still feels a bit weird to be admitting it directly to you. “But… you look so pretty and I don’t like knowing that other people can see you when you look so beautiful.”

It’s the truth. He doesn’t like knowing that anyone and everyone here has access to your existence. That they can simply turn their head and look at you in that skirt. He doesn’t care if it’s till your ankles. You look absolutely enchanting. Childe hates it that anyone can see your collar bones and your curious expression and the way you’re tilting your head at him and the way you’ve started fidgeting with your sleeve already.

All these lovely things about you are supposed to be for him only.

But they aren’t.

And he hates that.

“Hey. Eyes up here.”

He didn’t realise he started staring at your collar bones. God, he hopes you don’t think he was staring at your chest.

“Now that you’re looking into my eyes,” you groan, “I want you to calm down.” Almost instinctively, Childe crosses his arms out of displeasure, but you are quick to cool him down. “No one is looking at me. Nothing even happened and you’re acting all jealous. Calm down.”

“I’m not acting.”

“Then stop overreacting.”

“I am definitely not overreacting.”

You give him a look, the one you usually give him when you know he is keeping something from you, but you would rather not put the effort into digging it out of him. “Right.”

Childe is quick to defend, to put out the bait in hopes you’ll take it. “Sweetheart, you’re beautiful. Of course I’m going to be pressed if other people look at you and think the same.”

You sigh. “We’re only out for dinner.”

“Yes, but I just… I don’t know.” He traces the handle of the cutlery on the table, all the while ignoring how you’re still fidgeting with your sleeves. He’s making you nervous. He shouldn’t be making you nervous.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to burden you with my feelings.” Though you look like you want to say something, Childe beats you to it. “I love you, and I hope you know that I mean that word when I say it. I’m not afraid of saying the bigger word. I never will be.”

Both your hands have disappeared under the table. From the looks of it, you’re clenching them. How nervous are you? But wait. If he helps, if he shows you he can take care of you, then you might just…

Childe gently calls out your name, and you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. Poor thing. He asks you to show him your hands, and you comply. What you do not see coming is him gently grabbing the two before bringing them to cup his face. Childe especially presses the cold fingertips to his warm cheeks, effectively warming them up.

He’s thankful for reserving this relatively small table tucked away in a corner. No one can see your widened eyes and the look of adorable surprise on your face. No one.

Upon receiving no explicit refusal from your end, Childe grows bolder. The palms cupping his cheeks are each delivered a gentle kiss, and when there is no rejection, he moves lower, lips trailing to your wrists. This is when he feels the tug, the panic in the withdrawal. Your left wrist is in his mercy, soft lips tenderly pressed against your pulse, yet you tug your arm in retreat like a wounded animal.

Though it pains him, Childe lets go but only after making eye contact with you for a moment.

The face you give him is akin to one of a mixture of surprise and betrayal, and it dawns on him. This is the first time he’s touched you like this. Childe thinks he may have mixed his fantasies with reality because he did not ask for your permission for doing so. Now that he thinks about it, for a moment, he returns to the dreams and thoughts where he touches you as he pleases, and where you ask him to touch you. Where you climb onto his lap at random times of day and tell him how you are only his. How you want nothing to do with the rest of the world because he is your everything.

The only thing he wants is for those fantasies to become reality. Is that too much to ask for? Is it too selfish for him to ask that of someone so beautiful, so… heavenly?

Despite the shock on your face, you do not verbally express your thoughts. The silence is deafening. Your hands are clutched to your chest, and as the noise of the background fades into nothing but a quiet and continuous rumble, Childe’s thoughts start wandering. The first thing he wonders about is where he has to keep his eyes from straying. Your hands and your chest.

He can’t stop feeling the softness of your skin under his calloused palms. How your pulse felt under his lips. How it might taste if it bled. How warm the red might be. How red it might be.

Childe feels dirty for those thoughts, but he doesn’t care. He would gladly embrace such farcicalities if it meant you being the centre of his attention, your entire being on his mind more than his own existence. Then again, you are his life, no? Then why should he stop himself from thinking about you? Is it not wrong for a believer to not think about their worshipped deity? Likewise, it is wrong of him to forcibly shut your existence out of his wandering and lost thoughts.

Besides, the thought of you is where all his unruly and chaotic thoughts come together and finally make sense. So why should he not look at you like you were made from a piece of his ribs, fragile and the closest to his heart than anything can ever be?

“Ajax,” the name tumbles out of your mouth, and Childe feels like he can hear again. “Please stop staring like that. It’s getting creepy.”

An apology is quickly on his tongue, but you are quick to cut his words off before they can be uttered. “You’re acting a little weird.” He notices the worry on your face and the hands under the table. Childe thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s selfish. Horridly so. “Are you feeling okay? We could go home right after eating if you’re not feeling too good, Ajax.”

You’re soothing him. Like how an owner soothes an unruly pet, you’re soothing him. How indulgent of you. Well, as long as you are thinking of him, he doesn’t mind playing like he’s putting the muzzle back on. You were never the one holding the leash anyway.

“I’m fine,” he replies. “Sorry. I just lost myself for a minute there. Were you saying something earlier?”

“Ah. No. Just… I was just asking if you were okay. I wasn’t saying anything earlier. Before that, I mean.”

Though tension has risen and it clearly shows in how your shoulders have stiffened, Childe cannot bring himself to mind. As long as your eyes are on him and him only, and as long as your voice graces his ears with his name, he won’t mind the discomfort in your countenance. It’s only a matter of time before you completely set aside denial.

It was halfway through dinner that you confessed telling your parents you’ll be home late tonight. This gave birth to an opportunity, and being the man that he is, Childe grabbed onto it like a desperate man. Questions were hushed and trust was exploited as Childe did what he could, what he wanted to do for so long.

The evening sea breeze never felt so good as it does now.

He stands with his arms resting on the railing, yet it feels different this time. It feels less lonely, more fulfilling, even if you both are in a secluded corner of the pier.

The lights from the opposite end of land reflects onto the water, and the smell of salt is in the air. Wind directly hits his face, hair flying back with it, but he’ll deal with the aftermath of it later. Right now, he’s waiting for you to be done with setting your hair so that he can talk to you.

You take a few more minutes to ensure hair doesn’t blow into your mouth or his face before joining his side, albeit at a distance large enough to fit another person which he promptly shamelessly closes. Yet when he turns to look at you, he is met with a raised brow.

“What?”

You’re quick to voice your observation, Childe’s eyes briefly focusing on the half-faded lipstick as he gives you his full attention. “Your hairline is a little uneven.” The sentence makes him chuckle, but you have more to add. “I didn’t think it’d be like that. It’s cute.”

“You’ve seen my forehead plenty of times.”

“I haven’t.”

He tilts his head. “Whenever I get out of the shower, my hair is slicked back. You’ve seen me get out of the shower.”

“Well,” you scrunch up your nose, “you’re shirtless and with only a towel. Why would I look at you then?”

“...” So all the times Childe has purposely walked by you in the living room or dropped off fruit when you’re studying while being fresh out of the shower was in vain. Why is he even surprised? Of course you wouldn’t look. It was daft of him to even consider that you would look. You avoid him like the plague whenever he tries to make a move. That does beg a question. Why have you been surprisingly cooperative tonight?

Are you planning something?

It can’t be. He keeps an eye on you. You go nowhere except class, occasional outings with friends, and shopping. Childe knows where you are at all times and with who and for what, with being the one taking you there. He even had you join that group project meeting online instead of in-person because it was in the evening and your group mates were all guys.

Considering those factors, there is no way you are planning something. He’s made sure of it. Besides, you are perfectly aware that you cannot try anything. Not only do you live with him, but he’s in the mafia. Were you to be missing or run away, you’d be back home before midnight.

There has to be another reason. Maybe you’ve grown more comfortable with him. Yes. That’s it. Perhaps it’s the delusion accompanying the compunction of all that he has done to you, but he believes you’re slowly laying down your defences. All that’s done is to wait till the wall is broken down too.

“Ajax,” you call, lips parting hypnotizingly, lipstick making them stick to the corners, “you’re staring again.” A pause, then you point something out. “You’ve been staring a lot tonight.”

He smiles, face resting on top of his arms crossed over the railing. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty.” You make a weird noise at that, but he chuckles. “I’m honoured to be breathing the same air as you. To be so close to you and see you with my own two eyes. I could never have said I’ve seen the world’s beauty before I saw you sitting behind that cash register in the store.”

You seem clearly taken aback at the sudden words. To be honest, Childe is too. He didn’t expect to say all that together. Still, if it conveys even a fraction of the intensity of his emotions, he’d say more.

A strand of hair falls into his eye when the wind calms, and he tries to blink it away. It’s disturbing his view of you. The way you’re looking at him as you think over your words feeds his proprietorial nature, for your words are all his to hear and your being all his to keep. Childe would keep you even if it means he has to hide you from the rest of the world lest you slip from his grasp.

Yet you are so good to him that he always melts at your unexpected surrenders. The time when you sewed up his shirt when he got a long, narrow cut at his side. The time when you made dinner and left some for him before going to bed when he texted you he’ll be home very late. The time you willingly came to him with your worries and let him console you.

And the way you remove the strand of hair that’s in his eye and allow him to look at you without obstructions.

If he could, he’d merge your beings into one so that no one else could ever have you, and you’d be his forever. He isn’t willing to break you to have you, but he is willing to hurt you just a little bit.

But before all that, he needs to figure out a way to make you all his. If it means putting a ring on your finger or faking your death or hiding you away from the world, he doesn’t care. You have to be all his.

From your body to your soul to your thoughts to your feelings to your touch to your very being. All. His.

“Ajax, you’re staring again.”

He stands up straight at that, one hand still grabbing the railing as he takes a step closer to you. This time, he does not smile. “Why don’t you love me?”

You question his sudden change in demeanour, but he presses further. “Why don’t you love me? What’s wrong? Tell me. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix us. Tell me how I can make you love me.”

Childe moves closer, and you instinctively move back, making him frown, but he soon cages you between the railing and his body. There’s not much space between you both, and you’re certain he would be able to hear your heart beat wildly if he moved just a tad bit closer. Nevermind the fact that your skirt is blowing with the wind and his legs are obstructing its path.

“I’m doing everything I know. Just tell me. All I want is your heart. All I want is you.”

You are quick to defend. “I already live with you. What more is there?”

“You,” he replies, breathless. “You don’t love me. You only live with me.”

“Because agreeing to that is why you let me go back home for the summer,” you remind him. “Well, I suppose either way I would have been here. If I said no, you would’ve taken me there earlier.”

“Do you feel trapped?”

“What do you think?”

Childe chuckles at that. Though he is culpable for this predicament, he also holds the power to change it to his favour. “Tell me then,” he whispers, wind once more blowing in his hair, “what do you want?”

Unfortunately for him, you play his game on equal footing. “Would you grant it?”

“No.” The look in your eyes is something smug, but he humours you anyway. “I can’t guarantee I won’t, but I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

A scoff accompanies your words now, the nervousness apparent in the way you grip the railing behind you for dear life. “You’ve told me numerous times you’d give me anything I want. Why are you so hesitant now?”

“Because I know what you are about to ask, and I’m afraid I can’t give you that.”

“And what am I about to ask?”

“To be able to leave me for good,” he spits out.

You simply shake your head. “No. Not at this moment at least.” Confusion laces his features, but you press your body impossibly closer to the railing. “I wanted to ask for some space. It’s… it’s uncomfortable like this. Please take a step back.”

Childe obliges instantly. Blue eyes watch your once white knuckles have colour return to them, and suddenly he feels a little childish for cornering you like that. A quiet sigh from your end steals his attention, yet he remains standing where he is, another demand on the tip of his tongue.

“Move in with me,” he says. “Move into my room. It’s been too long in the guest room already. You don’t need to stay there anymore.”

Frankly, you’re surprised. You thought he forgot about that by now considering that he never brought it up again.

“You’ve seen it. My room is bigger. I got this place because the master bedroom was big and it’ll easily fit both our things. You can make the guest room your study room if you want, but just move in already.”

He gives you that look again, the demanding one that makes you painfully aware of how dull and lifeless his eyes are. Although you have grown used to it and it doesn’t bother you as much, it still reminds you that if he wished, he could have done worse things to you. But he hasn’t. He waits and waits and waits till he’s about to bubble over. Till his feelings threaten to boil and spill out of the pot and even then he somehow calms it down enough to be coherent. Al because he promised to think about you before his own selfish feelings.

“We can start tomorrow,” Childe suggests, “or even tonight, there’s still time. You’ve been living with me for long enough. It’s time you actually moved in.”

Even while you are quiet, Childe has a million thoughts running through his head. Bed, lonely, empty, cold sheets, cold pillows, empty dressing table, empty nightstand. He recalls the room you’ve turned into your personal haven, the cluttered dressing table, the nightstand with a ton of wires, the eraser dust that’s almost always on the ground near your table, and the warm feeling that envelopes him whenever he enters this little haven of yours.

He needs to have you more or else he doesn’t know what he’d do. And he doesn’t want to know what he’d do to you.

“I hear you,” you speak up, successfully interjecting his thoughts, “but we’re not in a relationship. We can’t just start doing married couple things.” You make a face, scrunching up your nose like you always do. “Living in different rooms is appropriate because we’re still-”

“Marry me then.”

You shut your mouth immediately.

“Your problem is our relationship right?” Childe takes a step closer, eyes focused on yours. “Then marry me. Problem solved.”

“Wait. Ajax, that’s too fast. Calm down.”

“That’s not ‘too fast’. We’ve been living together for almost a year now. We’ve known each other for over a whole year. This isn’t fast.”

Regardless, you try to de-escalate it. De-escalate his rashness. “Okay. I understand. But we’re too young and my parents wouldn’t allow something like this so suddenly-”

“Leave them to me. I’ll handle getting their approval. They seem to like me anyway. That’s all you’re worried about right? And we’re not young. We’re adults.”

The apprehension grows. You do not know how this idea popped into his head, but you blame yourself for mentioning ‘married couple’ earlier. Why is he so obsessed? Is having you in his home constantly under his vision not sufficient?

“So what’s your answer? Or do you want to wait while I get a ring and you speak to your parents?”

The anxiety starts eating you from the inside. You know you can’t escape him. You’re too deep into his clutches to even consider escape, but you still hold onto feeble hope that you can delay the inevitable just a little longer. “Fine. You’re ready and okay for such a thing, but I’m not ready for such a big step.”

Contrary to your expectations, Childe’s mood further sours. “That’s what you always say.” As soon as the words are uttered, Childe remembers thinking to himself how he hoped you won’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight. Well. If it allows him to have you, he’d do anything. “The only difference would be that we’d be closer. Nothing else.”

“We’re close enough,” you meekly comment.

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t, but…”

“But?”

You think over the time you’ve lived under his roof. He has been controlling, sure, but he has been more accommodating and understanding. If you were to bet your life on one thing, it would be that Ajax would always unequivocally love and care for you. Besides, this is inevitable. The moment he locked eyes with you at your job, it had been decided that this would happen. That you would be his.

Delaying and denying all this simply makes you miserable. Who are you to deny such affection? Such love that suffocates you, surrounds you constantly with eyes in the shadows watching your every breath. Who are you to deny a man who has countless times told and showed you that he’d drop to his knees for you on a moment’s notice?

He may control your life and future, but you control him as well. Or you do to an extent at least. What his words cannot express, his hands and eyes do, and those things are precisely what have kept you going on the hope that the inevitable is not as horrifying as you delude yourself into thinking of it.

Ajax loves you, and you’d be damned if you refuse his love. Not only is there no way out, but you think you do not want out anymore. You’re too deep in his web.

Besides, you know that if you were to refuse him, he’d try again and again before eventually forcing it upon you. It’s better to accept. You can’t delay the inevitable.

Warm hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing the corners of your eyes. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, and you blink away tears you did not know you were shedding.

Minutes pass on the secluded corner of the pier, and when he is satisfied with how much you have calmed down, he lets you go. Hands hang by his sides as he waits for an answer, but you don’t keep him waiting. With a gentle pat to his cheek, you give him your answer.

“I’ll start moving my things in the morning.”

His celebratory smile only grows when you continue speaking.

“And… I’ll start talking to my parents. I’ll let you know the updates.”

You were in the middle of organising your things when the realisation dawned on you. You’re moving into his room. All of your things will go there. All of your things. Does this mean you both are officially in a relationship? That means he’s going to wake up next to you, go to sleep next to you, and you’re going to share a wardrobe with him. Even a bathroom.

This might just make his possessive nature worse. But it’s alright. You can talk sense into him. He usually does listen to you.

Nevertheless, you can’t help but wonder… Why are you accepting of this? Somehow the idea of being so close doesn’t bother you as much as you think it should. Do you really like him that way? Are you in denial?

Ajax’s voice calls out to you, asking if you need any help. You’re currently in the middle of going through your clothes, and you would rather he not bear witness to seeing your undergarments and clothes thrown haphazardly across the bed. Thus, you tell him no and continue organising, putting home clothes separate and classifying the rest accordingly.

When those are done, you let the piles be on the bed and move to your dressing table. Expired and empty containers are chucked into the bin, and you grab the rest and move outside, passing by a curious Ajax in the living room and making yourself home in his room. The bottles are carefully placed amongst his things, and soon the dressing table looks cluttered.

Well, to be used is to be messy. It’s okay.

You return to the piles of clothes and transport each pile one by one onto his bed. When all have been gathered, you place them in the space he’s apparently kept empty for you ever since he moved here in an orderly fashion, making sure all your undergarments are in the locked drawer instead of the regular one. There are no fingers or accusations pointed, but there is also no complete trust in this matter.

Ajax trails behind you this time, curiously watching you take your toiletries and place them in his bathroom. He eyes the addition of a new shampoo and conditioner and other bottles he doesn’t care to classify but is happy to simply see them there. You make the journey back to your ex-room and gather all your chargers and wires only to find yourself untangling them first.

“Do you need help?”

You’re quick to refuse, but he still stands there watching. Gathering them all in your hands, Ajax is tempted to offer his help again but closes his mouth when he remembers you telling him to “not butt in” while you move your things. So, he watches you and trails behind you. He follows you around and watches you as you bump into the sofa’s edge when he calls your name and stumble forward only to lose your footing and fall straight onto the floor.

It did not help that your arm had slid against the edge of the centre table and you horribly skinned the back of your arm.

Ajax stands there, horrified for a moment, before he ignores the cluttered mess of chargers and wires and crouches down beside you, immediately checking your injuries and helping you sit up. But it does not help him when he sees blood slowly starting to ooze from the mess of broken skin and you wince when he gently grabs your hand to look at the wound.

Regardless, he cups your face with the other hand while simultaneously looking you over for other injuries. When you assure him and his repeated questions that it’s just your arm, he relaxes a bit. However, he cannot help it. There’s more blood now, not a lot but enough to completely cover the broken skin, and if he leaves it be, it might start trickling down your arm before the wounds close.

So, Ajax does what his mind wants him to do. He kisses the skin near the wound at first, completely ignoring your questioning look, and slowly moves towards the injury. Soft lips glide over the skin, inching closer towards the desired target. Then, when he can feel your gentle tugs to be let free, he tightens his grip and licks.

Ajax licks some of the blood, the texture of broken skin welcomed by his tongue. You sit there horrified and extremely confused while he licks it again before freezing and letting go.

Awkward eye contact ensues, and your face clearly shows how utterly puzzled and alarmed you are. Nevermind the fact that those were wet licks and your arm has his saliva on it and the broken skin he lapped up is on his tongue which he is sneakily trying to swallow.

Minutes pass, and you finally gather the composure to speak. “Ajax. What the fuck?”

He is quick to be defensive, knowing full well you’ve been so good to him these days and he can’t afford to scare you off. “I just… I let my intrusive thoughts win. Sorry.”

Your terror only grows. “I don’t even want to know what your intrusive thoughts are anymore. Well. At least your licking distracted me from the pain. It doesn’t hurt anymore with your spit on it. Gross. Wash your mouth after this.”

Somehow, a smile stretches on his face. “Wash my mouth? After getting to have a piece of you? Sweetheart, a little bit of you is in me. Why would I ever not want that?” You open your mouth to interject but are cut off. “If I could, I’d make us become one. That way, I don’t have to worry about you thinking of anything else except me.”

You’re quite… speechless. Did he really just indirectly admit he wants to eat you? What the hell??

“Speaking of which,” Ajax whispers, “forgive me but another intrusive thought won.” With that, he moves closer. Close enough in your face to have your noses brushing. To his surprise, you do not create distance, allowing him to fan his breath over your lips as he slowly turns his head.

The only thing stopping his lips from kissing yours directly is his hand on your lips.

When he pulls away, Ajax’s blue eyes meet your widened ones, your face flushed and clearly flustered. Unfortunately for you, a grin is on his face. “I’ll kiss you for real when you say yes to the ring. Then, I'll make your body mine too.”

With that, he gets up and grabs the first aid box while you sit with his spit drying on your arm. You are sometimes genuinely terrified of him. This is one of those times.

“Don’t lick me ever again.”

Ajax frowns at that. “If you forbid me, then how am I supposed to go dow-”

“Stop! That’s enough!” You successfully shut him up, and he continues disinfecting your injury in silence. “Do not spew such mindless words ever again.”

Unfortunately, he catches onto your words, smiling mischievously. “I’ll do it if you do one thing.” When asked for his conditions, Ajax shamelessly gives his request. “Tell me you’re mine. That I’m the person you want.”

When you show hesitation, he is quick to remind you that you’ve agreed to completely move in with him and agreed to sleeping with him. Thus, you acquiesce.

“I’m… Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” He chuckles, but you continue humouring him. “I’m yours, Ajax.”

He pushes further. “And?”

Your cheeks heat up, and you meekly let out the second part. “And… you’re the person I want.”

As soon as the desired words leave your mouth, Ajax is soothed. Soon, he’s disinfected the mess of broken skin and tied a bandage around your arm for the time being so that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself again. When asked about his payment, you simply pat his cheek like you do, but decide to scratch the skin behind his ear before travelling upwards into his hair.

With a last pat to his head, you leave him a blushing mess with messy hair as you return to the wires scattered on the ground, picking them up before continuing what you were doing. It doesn’t serve him right that you casually rendered him paralysed and just got up and left. But then again, that is the least you should do against him after what he has done to you.

Flustering someone does not compare to putting them in a fancy cage. Well, Ajax’s deceit makes it hurt more. If you knew the full extent of his desires, you would never let him breathe the same air as you. But you do not. And that is precisely why he plans to slowly let them surface, to allow you time to accept him. He just hopes he doesn’t grow impatient with how good you’ve been.

(Bonus scene)

“What do you mean you want a pillow wall between us?”

You don’t mind Ajax’s childish whines, instead busying yourself with moisturising your face. But when he moves to remove a pillow, you are quick to turn and give him a glare. “I agreed to sleeping next to you and moving into your room. The least you can do is give me time to settle in and let me have a damn pillow wall.”

Ajax slowly puts the pillow back down quietly, and you turn around to close the moisturiser bottle. Though you catch a glimpse of him glaring daggers into the pillow wall, you continue cleaning the clutter of your things on the dressing table.

You’ll take it away in a few days. Let him suffer for a few nights.

#childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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janeyseymour · 1 day

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La Cosa Nostra- pt 15

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14.

cowritten with @schemmentis - we're gonna try to revive this story, and y'all better buckle up because it's gonna get so good

WC: 3.1k

You manage to get the girls up and fed before Melissa stirs on the couch. It must be a groggy Schemmenti morning considering the girls haven’t swarmed her and woken her up themselves nor asked you why Mommy was sleeping on the couch all weekend. You gently shake at your wife’s shoulder once the girls have their shoes on, remembering how upset she’d been when you’d taken them to school without waking her. Plus, you don’t exactly feel generous and worried about making sure she gets enough rest after your fight.

You roll your eyes at her groggy ‘what’ when she cracks her eyes open. “Your daughters want to say good morning and goodbye, is what.” You mutter, stepping aside and wave the twins the okay to hurry to Melissa.

You step back towards the front door as Melissa kisses them each multiple times. Tuning out the goodbyes and I love yous. You’d thought after not speaking aside from the essentials over the weeknd you might feel less upset; you don’t. It’s the same as before you went to sleep the night you fought. Mel’s decision over you, her standing by it, and worst of all her hitting you in all the worst places. You can’t let any of it go, not first, anyway.

You force a deep breath when you feel your little girls running back to your side, opening the front door. “Let’s go, littles, before you’re late.” You mutter as you usher them out.

“You didn’t kiss Mommy again,” Rosie states once you get into the car.

“We were running late,” is all your response is.

Once you’ve seen them off to their class safely, you leave the girls’ school. Your eyes roll when you hear your cell phone ring for the third time in the short trip to drop them off. You know without looking it’s Tony just like it was the last two times, no doubt to ask again for the ledger which you still have no intention of giving him directly. You don’t trust Tony as far as you could throw him. Still, you know you’d better have it in hand soon for when he produces whoever he answers to. It wouldn’t be good for that to happen and you to not have it.

You sigh as you slip back into the car. Which means you probably have to break your silent streak with your wife and ask her to talk to Barbara to get it back. You really don’t want to do that though. Your pride and your stubbornness wants you to hold out for Melissa to at least admit she was being an asshole the other night. Even if she won’t admit she was wrong about the rest of it.

You don’t have Barbara’s number but you do know where she’ll eventually turn up. You pull the car from the school lot, driving to the church. If Mel intends to be in early at the restaurant today; you don’t feel that bad about making her walk this time.

You slip in just after the morning service. Thankfully, you still spy Barbara’s head in the usual back pew. You genuflect at the side, crossing your chest before slipping into the seat next to the older woman- the one your wife would usually claim.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Barbara greets you quietly once her head raises from her prayer. “Another bit of prayer needed, hm?”

“A little bit.” You hedge. You’re not fully lying; you do think it might bring some relief after your fight with Melissa. Which, now that you’re sat next to her, you realize you may have overlooked your wife telling Barb all about. “I was also hoping to see you.” You add.

“Oh? Well, that’s sweet of you. You know I’m always glad to see you or Melissa and your girls in the Lord’s house.”

You flash a smile, one you’ve flashed the Feds and other Family members alike to be as charming as you can. “You know our whole family is always happy to see you. Especially the girls.”

“Oh, I can’t wait for next weekend. They were positively a joy at Sunday breakfast, yesterday. Though you and Melissa were rather quiet.”

“It was…a long week, last week.” You admit. “Mel and I haven’t exactly been seeing eye to eye lately.” You hadn’t meant to share that last part but you lean into letting it off your chest in some way, at least.

“I’m sure you two will sort it out. You always do.”

“I hope so.” You answer truthfully. You might still be angry, and definitely hurt, but you still love Melissa with all of you. You hope the fact she’s been dealing with being relegated to the couch for a few days is a sign she still feels the same, too. Since she hasn’t disappeared to her Ma’s or even Kristen Marie’s.

“Are things okay between the two of you? Would you like to chat about it, perhaps over brunch?” Barbara offers.

You take her up on that offer, and you find yourself bringing her back to your house- just in case the Feds are still watching you. You mill about the kitchen as you prepare a few things before settling at the table with her.

“So,” Barbara hums. “What’s got you turning up at church more often than usual lately- both you and your wife?”

“Could use a bit more prayer these days,” you sigh softly as you take a bite full of your breakfast.

“You didn’t pray today though,” the woman points out. You just shrug at that. “So what made you really come to the church?”

You throw around the options in your head. You could break your silent streak and speak with Melissa, or you could ask the woman herself for the ledger.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you say softly, “I was hoping I would run into you. I need the book that I know Melissa gave you.”

Barbara blinks once, twice. “What book, dear?”

“Barb, I know Mel gave you the book for my salon.”

The woman’s face flickers through quite a few emotions before settling on a neutral face once again. “Oh. I still don’t know what you’re speaking of? What your wife gave me was not a book.”

“Babs, I need the goddamn book,” you sigh.

“Do not take the lord’s name in vein,” Barbara tells you sternly.

“Barbara, I need the damned book. My life is on the line here,” you plead. You don’t mean for that last sentence to slip out, and you have to do everything you can to hide it on your face; the severity of the situation. For all she knows, you’re exaggerating and just using it as a hyperbole.

“And why would that be?” Barbara raises a brow. “It’s just the simple finances for the salon.”

“It is,” You hastily agree with her comment. “But I…” You take a breath, forcing out the familiar lie you gave Valentina when she first noticed Melissa’s extra stress, just modified a bit. “I’m trying to work out selling the salon so I need the book with all the finances in it to go through with a potential buyer.”

“Selling it?” Barbara repeats, a hand pressing to her chest. “Why on earth would you sell? You’ve worked hard for that place, Y/N!”

“I know but it hasn’t been profitable since…well, since I don’t even know when, Barb. I thought I could juggle it and put it back in proper working condition but the clients just aren’t coming in like they used to.”

Barbara suddenly drops the hand at her chest held in shock. “Y/N, surely you know I’m no fool.”

You blink. “Of course you’re not, Barbara. Why would I think you were—”

“The book I have is not for your salon.”

“Yes, it is.” You say, brow furrowing in confusion. Because it is for the salon, both books, and you don’t know what else Barb could think it belongs to.

The older woman sends you a long suffering look, the silence between you drawing out for a moment. “Not for the legal business of your salon though, is it?”

Your face drops. Like, actually drops- jaw open and everything. “What?”

“I’m well aware of what I possess,” the woman tells you in a monotone.

“Shit.”

“What on Earth are the two of you thinking; getting mixed up in all of this- and with your two girls!” Barbara admonishes you sharply, and you feel like you’re being reprimanded by a principal.

You search for words, but none come.

“You two are so lucky I haven’t turned it in, and I nearly did!”

“Y-you didn’t?” you whisper out.

“Of course I didn’t, and the only reason I didn’t is because of Cat and Rosie!” Barb states. “Otherwise, I would have!”

“I- thank you,” you say softly.

“The two of you better get yourselves out of this mess, before it destroys your lives,” the woman tells you lowly.

“The only way out of this mess is prison… or death,” you inform her. “And at this point, if either of us goes to prison, or something happens to Mel, I genuinely fear I won’t survive. When it comes down to everything, Melissa is the matriarchal figure in the family.”

“Neither of those things can happen,” Barbara tells you. “And that is not true- the both of you have the most equal partnership I think I’ve ever seen.”

“Listen, I really do need the ledger back,” you try again.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Barbara.”

“Your wife entrusted me with it, and while I do not agree with what I hold onto in the slightest, I am not breaking my promise to Melissa.”

“I’m sure she told you not to open the book though, right?” you press. At her nod, you continue. “You broke that promise. So, give. me. the. book.”

“I have to go,” Barbara states. “Thank you for a lovely breakfast.” She makes to head out, and you follow her.

“Barbara!”

She climbs into her car, and speeds off.

You’re left standing on the porch of your townhouse, staring after Barbara’s car even after it’s definitely peeled its way out of your neighborhood. You honestly didn’t know she could drive that fast. Melissa loves to call her a grandma whenever she drives the lot of you anywhere. Barbara would throw back that it was only being safe and God forbid she get into a wreck because your wife wouldn’t stop back-seat driving.

“Fuck.” You curse, briefly covering your face. “Fuck!” You repeat as you pull your hands away. You lean back into the doorway just enough to grab your keys from the hook by the door. You slam your front door shut, not even bothering to take the time to lock it. You won’t catch Barb at this rate, but you’re fairly certain you can catch your wife.

You’re certain, at least relatively so, Barb won’t turn you both in. Not if she hasn’t already. But it sure sounded like she was just waiting for Melissa to ask for the book to confront her herself first. You just happened to ask before your wife. You know though Barb isn’t likely to be going to Twelve Tables to have that confrontation with Melissa. So, instead, you are.

You speed your way there, not really worried about the reds or stop lights or any possibility of getting pulled over. A ticket was nothing compared to what all hung in the balance now. You make your way into the restaurant as fast as your feet will carry you.

“Hey, Y/N, how’s—”

“Not now Val,” You interrupt your wife’s right hand. “Where’s Mel?”

“She’s in the back, but—”

You wave a hand at her, muttering a half hearted ‘thank you’ as you hurry through the kitchen toward the back office. You don’t even stop to worry about knocking at the closed office door. You’re throwing it open with practically all your weight behind it in your haste that has you stumbling into the room.

“Mel, we need to—”

“What the fuck?” Melissa grouses at the slamming open of the office door. Her mood doesn’t exactly improve when she looks up to see you, a glare from green eyes sent your way. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.” She says, the end of it coming through her clenched teeth with a nod to the man standing at the desk in the office with her.

“I really need to talk to you. Right now.” You rush out.

“Ya don’t talk to me all weekend, and now ya want to? Now? I told ya, I’m in a meeting. Get out.”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” You nearly yell, stepping into the office and gripping her wrist and fighting to physically pull your wife from the office.

“God…damn it. Fine!” Melissa huffs, agreeing to go once she realizes you aren’t going to let her actually work until she does. “‘Scuse me a minute.” She says to the man before following you out of the office and shutting the door after her. “What the fuck is so damn important you have to try and literally pull me from work? One of the girls’ better be hurt or the world better be endin’, so help me God, or it’s gonna be you on the couch now, Y/N!”

“Our world might be ending,” you sigh quietly, eyes down. Then your eyes meet her own. “Barbara knows.”

The redhead has the same face that you wore when Barbara revealed that she knows what she possesses. “What?”

“Do you see why it’s so important now?” you ask her.

“Fuck. Fucking shit.” She runs a hand through her hair. “We’re fucked. We’re going down, and we’re taking all of-“

“She said she hasn’t turned us in because of the girls,” you whisper. “But we have to figure out what to do before something terrible happens to either us, or Barb and Gerald. They cannot get involved.”

“Fuck!” Melissa shouts.

“I know,” you sigh. “I know. I- I don’t know what to do.”

“How do you know she knows?” your wife implores.

“I was at the church earlier,” you tell her. And you recount the earlier events before, “and then she told me that the binder wasn’t for the legal side of the salon. She knows.”

“God dammit,” Melissa whispers. She runs a hand over her face. “Fuck. Okay, uhm… let me handle this meeting, and then I’ll meet you at home so we can figure out what to do.”

“I’ll be sitting in the back waiting for you,” you tell her. “And don’t forget that we do have to pick up the girls today.”

“I know,” she says. “I know. Okay. We’re gonna- we’re gonna be fine, and I- fuck.” You watch as red curls whip around and head back into the office.

With a sigh, you head for the back exit again. Valentina looks at you curiously, but you don’t acknowledge it. You just continue on your way. You pull your car closer to the back door, idling as you wait for your wife. She’s quickly slipping into the passenger seat in less than five minutes.

As you pull out of the lot of Twelve Tables and head towards your home once more, Melissa runs her hand through her hair as she glances at the clock. “Okay, we still have a few hours before we have to get the girls, so we can figure this out.”

“Figure this out?” You echo, glancing at Melissa. “Babe, we have what, four hours? We’re gonna figure this all out and fix everything in four hours?

“It’s just Babs.” She says, trying to convince the both of you. It’s clear she knows how much power her church friend holds at this moment, and it terrifies her. She takes a deep breath, rolling the passenger window down enough for wind from the drive to whip her red locks out of her face. “She didn’t turn us in because of the girls…we can, we can buy time.”

“How? How are we gonna buy any time?” you implore. “We got the Feds still digging into shit; who knows what part of the Family they’re eyeing right now? But it doesn’t matter. Any part of it goes, you know the rest is screwed.”

“That’s only if somebody flips. Nobody would flip.”

You take the risk of holding your eyes off the road a little longer than you should to give your wife a look. You both could likely think of ten people each from your respective sides that could, under the right circumstances, absolutely flip.”

“Fuck, I know!” She says, waving your glare away from her as she looks out the passenger side window. “Look, they ain’t got anywhere yet, huh? That means we still got time. We just need to make sure Barb really ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

“She wouldn’t talk to me past tellin’ me she promised you to only give it back to you and then that she knew.”

“Oh, sure, she can stick to that part of the damn promise.” Melissa grumbles as she gets out nearly before you can put the car in park in the driveway. She turns back just as you catch up to her on the front porch. “Ya didn’t even lock the door! Aduzipach!”

“We do not have time for another argument!” You toss back as you reach the top step, gently ushering her inside with you as you pull the door shut again. This time you do lock it behind you. “We have to be on the same page, okay? We really have to be or we’re definitely screwed. I’m still pissed, and hurt but whatever. It doesn’t matter right now. Right now what matters is you, and me, and the girls. That’s all that matters, which means we have to figure a way out of this bullshit.”

“Amore, you know there’s only two ways out of the life. Neither one lets us be there for the girls- at all.”

“And both I’d preferably like to avoid entirely.” You add, sighing as you slump into your couch. “So..w we have to literally do the impossible.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to do that,” Melissa groans as she leans into your figure.

Barbara Howard speeds off, and she doesn’t necessarily know where she’s going. But after a bit, she figures that you aren’t following her, and she stops at a local diner to pick up takeout for a lunch date with her husband, the senator.

TAGS: @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti

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wings-of-ink · 2 days

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Pls I love how you answer angst and it's all dark and gloomy and then there's this cute emoticon at the end ^_^ and suddenly it makes all the worry go by sheer power of cuteness, you are so real for that

I'm gonna pull the "chaotic neutral" on an angst galore and humbly ask for ROs reacting to MC coming to them looking all pretty (gn) and asking RO how do they look only for the RO to find out MC is going on a date.

...and what if MC after seeing ROs reaction smiled gently and said "Well... It's for our date, actually. If you would have me"

(hehe did I got ya? Thought I'd ask some irredimible angst?)

Okay, you did actually get me with that! LOL Totally turned it around at the end, and I made a very unglamorous noise.

I don’t know why, but I always gotta get my little smile in there somewhere, lol. Even if my eyes are a bit watery. ^_^

As for your adorable ask (assuming at least some feelings or romantic words have been exchanged between RO and MC of course):

Oswin:

Big lump in his throat off the bat. MC looks wonderful, and they're going on a date with someone else? He smiles through it and nods emphatically. “You look amazing. The lucky person will be well-pleased.” Has he misread everything between them?

At the reveal: His knees actually buckle. “Our? Our. *OUR* DATE!?” His heart is absolutely pounding. “What do you…what should I wear?” MC will need to help him out with that one.

Zahn:

There’s some genuine enthusiasm there when they tell MC they look gorgeous - because they do. They’ve always thought that about MC. They shine inside and out. Maybe that’s why they confused the things stirring between them. But they’ll be happy for MC and cheer them on.

At the reveal: Zahn has a smile that would make the sun jealous. They run and grab MC’s hand. “Let’s go! Let’s go right now!” They have zero idea where they’re going…

Duri:

“Well that’s hardly fair. Are you trying to tease me? It won’t work.” *pouts* (it’s working) *Walks around MC studying the outfit. “You look delicious as ever, but is this person really deserving of such a feast? Never fear, I have just the thing. We’ll borrow Zahn’s ratty cloaks - trust me on this - you’ll still make a statement.” *If MC allows this to run its course, Duri will deck them out in the most atrocious outfit they can make with the items on hand. MC is probably wearing a basket on their head.

After the reveal: They go quiet for a long moment. “Well, of course, I knew that. You can’t fool me - ha! …What in the stars are you wearing though?”

Rune:

Swallowing their feelings. Checks MC out, straightens their collar (it wasn’t crooked), smooths the wrinkles (there weren’t any), and gently fixes their hair (it was fine). “You should already know how fabulous you look as well as I do. You’d be enchanting even if you wore robes of grass and leaves.” They fidget. “If…if you aren’t sure about this person - be careful…and I’d also like to take you out too, if you’ll allow it. I apologize for asking like this.”

After the reveal: The smile takes over before they can stop it. “Well played, I’ll admit it. I suppose that’s a yes to my request then?” MC gets a nervous laugh out of them. Is that a tinge of red on their cheeks?

???:

“Date!? Well, that isn’t fair, I’ve been flirting with you for ages and we haven’t been on a date yet.” He takes a flower from a vase and slips it into the outfit or tucks it in MC’s hair. “Here’s an idea - I go with you and you can show me how a date works. I’ll make some notes and I promise not to glower menacingly at your date.” *He’s lying* “And…yes, for the record, you are a vision. Always.”

After the reveal: “No need to change your plans on my account, MC! Go on then, and have your fun - tell me how it went tomorrow.” He pushes MC to the door. “Don’t stay out too late, aim for the throat if they get too fresh with you.” *Door shuts, MC is made to wait a few minutes before ??? comes back out with a big stupid smile.

Thank you for the Ask, Anon! This one was a lot of fun! ^_^

#god cursed if #asks #twine if #if wip #twine wip #interactive novel #if game #interactive fiction #gc ro reactions

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of-pale · 3 days

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If Nero has 200 IQ, this is the phone he’d gift to the twins.

Yep, the myth, the legend, the one and only indestructible force in the universe - Nokia 3310. I think it would be hilarious if Nero gave the twins one phone, because:

a) they need to learn to share

b) by combining their singular brain cells together into a rich commonwealth of two, they might just figure out how to work the phone

Of course, the indestructibile nature of this phone is a necessary feature. Now, you might be wondering why?

Nero decides to give the twins a call, maybe invite them over for dinner. After only a minute of waiting, Dante picks up. The background echoes with gunshots, exclamations of 'schum’ and menacing demon screams in a clear indication that the twins were out on a job.

“Hey, what's up, kid?”

“Uh sorry, you busy?”

“Never too busy for my favourite nephew.”

“I'm your only nephew.”

“Doesn't make it less true.”

“Suuure. Look, can you pass the phone to Vergil? I need to ask him something.”

“Aw, you're breaking my heart. Here I thought we had something special.”

Next, Nero hears demon screeches growing louder. A loud crack. Some shuffling noises before Vergil calmly answers the call.

Now it's time to play a game of ‘guess what the hell happened there’!

If you guessed - ‘Dante, being Dante, decided to showcase his phone-passing skills by bouncing it off a demon’s skull over to Vergil’ - then you're correct! A clear example of why the twins need a phone that can endure some serious beating. I'm also a firm believer that the Nokia could double as a weapon of great destruction in the field. I doubt getting hit with that brick on the head was easy to shrug off for the unlucky demon.

Real question though, what would the twins set Nero's ringtone as? And vice versa, Nero's ringtone for twins? (I know, I know, Nokia 3310 doesn't have a custom ringtone feature, but shhhh.. Nico works her miracles on the phone.)

Depeche Mode - Personal Jesus?

I mean, teeeechnically the twins are sons of a god? Or could it be Vergil referring to Nero as his son?

Guns N’ Roses - Sweet Child O’ Mine?

Need I say more? Although it would be hilarious if Nero set it as a ringtone for the twins.

He sighs deeply upon hearing the familiar ringtone, knowing it could entail anything from a world-ending cataclysm to another petty squabble. So he pauses his conversation with a Fortuna resident, saying, “Sorry, I gotta get this. Kids are calling.”

“Awww, and how have the orphans settled in?”

“Huh? No, my other kids.”

The Fortunan looks at him in confusion just as Nero finally picks up the call and starts pacing.

“What's up, dipshit?”

“Sounds like a you problem to me.”

“What? No, I won't talk to Vergil for you. What are you, five?”

“Look, you fucked yourself into that problem; you can fuck yourself out of it.”

Nero quickly drops the call and turns back to the person he was speaking to. “Sorry about that.” The resident only gives him a weird stink-eye, and Nero finally catches on to what's the issue. He coughs awkwardly and tries to smooth the situation, “Forty-year-old children, am I right?”

Ghostbusters theme?

Depends on how common knowledge demons are. The Sparda's might be ‘ghostbusters’ as in the myth catchers for hire.

Yeah, I'm gonna stop this long rambling shitpost here. Otherwise, I could keep listing ringtones on and on.

#dmc #devil may cry #master rambler #the unstoppable force of Nokia 3310 #dumbasses own a cellphone AU #rated T for Nero's mouth #ruin your Fortuna rep in one simple step #be Nero

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a-twistedheartslonging · 13 hours

Note

The recent Book 7 release has put Vil and Rook on the mind, so do you have any particularly interesting courtship or relationship headcanons for your nonhuman AU? Thank you :)

My god Rook would rizz you so hard, we already know how he is as a human, though I've seen headcanons that he might have some beastmen in his blood it just isn't obvious/is distant or something like that.

Anyway...

He's enigmatic with a passion for all things beautiful, something Rook very much views you as regardless of what you think of yourself. He's very enthusiastic about supporting those that he admires so be ready for him to be supportive and encouraging as fuck. Yeah, he's gonna be weird about a lot of stuff but Rook is almost always genuine in his intentions.

Expect poetry and love letters to hit your door by arrow every morning.

Ah...Birb Boi Love.

When the night sky envelops the world in its cool embrace, a ballet takes place on treetops and secluded clearings— the dance of owl courtship.

Serenading the night. Rook is already a great singer and loves to do it, with owls the males often initiate the mating process with a series of hoots. Though with him I'm pretty sure it would be actually singing that he graces you with...but still...it's kind of funny to think about...heh horny hoots.

He might be hoping for you to join him since female owls might answer back, leading to a duet. This vocal interaction strengthens the bond between the two owls and sets the stage for their partnership.

Gift giving, males often present food gifts. This act not only proves the male’s hunting prowess but also his ability to provide for offspring. He knows he can't just leave his fresh kills at your doorstep. Instead, he will use his cooking skills and bring very yummy meals cooked and caught by him. Will give a few happy hoots if you agree to letting him feed you.

He's going to bring you a lot of stuff, not just food though. Keep in mind the guy is well off and for a lot of creatures it's important to keep your mate well groomed, and he gets the good shit from Vil so expect to be gifted the best, lotions, shampoos, and skincare stuff. Along with clothes that seem to fit you perfectly...hmm how did he get your size?

Once a bond begins to form, owls might engage in mutual grooming, a sign of affection and trust. Please let him do your hair and nails he will be so happy. He gets to help you be even more pretty, gets to touch the person he likes, examine your interesting human features. He's actually someone you can trust to bathe with/wash your hair for you without trying anything regardless of his romantic feelings, even if you're nakey.

Nuzzling and nibbling will also happen, he knows you're a fan of his soft feathers and floof and will puff up to lure you in for cuddles...and then he'll get you with those gentle nibbles and nuzzle against you. At least with him, you won't have to worry about getting covered in fur after like with the others, but you might end up with a feather in your hair and will diffidently smell like Rook

Territory plays a vital role in owl mating behaviors. Male owls fiercely defend their territories from rival males, ensuring they have exclusive access to potential mates and sufficient resources for nesting and rearing young. Territory disputes often involve vocal and physical displays, including wing-spreading, aggressive posturing, and occasional physical combat.

As a result, any of the other guys should be wary of arrows flying their way when they get near Ramshackle once Rook gets to that stage in courting. The tree near your window was already one of his favorite spots before this started. I don't think he would start any fights though, not that he would need to, people tried to keep their distance from him before already.

The mental image of him doing the aggressive postering is funny though.

Hmm...wait...no...

...yeah, I can see how that would be scary if it's a man-sized owl creature doing it at night with glowing eyes and he's probably doing a weird honhonhonhon French laugh thing. He's going to scare the shit out of someone.

Some owl species, like the barn owl, engage in dramatic flight displays, which can include dives, spirals, and impressive swoops to impress a potential mate. He would definitely show off and even offer to carry you so you can enjoy a nice flight with him...you might see him divebomb someone, he doesn't actually touch them but gets pretty close.

The man loves his privacy so will likely pick a spot in Ramshackle away from everyone else to make into your love nest, only the finest blankets and pillows will be used, that fancy silk stuff you know?

Hmmm Vil.

I've thought about him ether being a Peacock-

Or a secretary bird.

I'm not sure what suits him best but I'm sure regardless his courtship will be flashy. You'll probably end up with a tail feather smacking you in the face at some point.

I might be able to think up something if you guys send in some ideas.

#twst #twisted wonderland #ask #asks #nonhuman au #twisted wonderland rook #twst rook #rook hunt

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canirove · 2 days

Text

Broken Hearts Football Club | Bonus chapter 2

Author’s note: This chapter is a long one compared to what I usually write, but I feel like it made sense to have it all in just one and not make two since everything revolves around the same topic, and there are some time jumps that I hope aren't too confusing. I also am still working on the third and last one (was supposed to finish it last night during the champions league game, but things happened 😅), though I think I can have it ready for next Thursday. Fingers crossed 🤞🏻 Hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

First chapter | Last chapter | Bonus chapter 1 | Bonus chapter 3 (hopefully coming out next Thursday)

Masterlist

A few years after the previous chapter...

“I think I'm getting the watch, Chilly. I… Chilly?” Mason said, looking around. “Please wrap it for me. Thank you” he said to the jeweller's shop assistant before joining his friend. “Benjamin!”

“Bloody hell, Mason” Ben said, his hand instinctively moving to his heart. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Shit, sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, don't worry. What happened?”

“That I was calling you and you weren't listening. What were you so interested… No!” Mason gasped.

“It isn't what it looks like.”

“Isn't it?” he laughed. “Chilly, you were checking engagement rings! Are you thinking about proposing to June?”

“What? No!”

“Oh, so you were checking them just for fun.”

“Yeah” Ben shrugged.

“You are such a bad liar, Benjamin” he laughed again. “Tell me all about it.”

“About what?”

“About how you are going to ask June to marry you!”

“Shh, lower down your voice!” he said, looking around. The shop was almost empty, but if someone recognised them…

“Ok, ok. How are you going to do it?” Mason whisperer.

“I'm not going to do it.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because June doesn't want to marry me” Ben said.

“Bullshit, Chilly. June is madly in love with you! And you told me that she had confessed that she wanted to start a family with you one day.”

“She did, yes. But she never mentioned getting married, and that was when we moved in together a few years ago. Now…”

“Now nothing has changed. If you ask me, it has actually gotten worse, because when you guys started dating, you weren't as cheesy and annoying as you are now.”

“We are what?” Ben laughed.

“Cheesy and annoying. Sometimes I fear I may end up having a sugar rush just by looking at you.”

“Sure.”

“I'm being serious, Chilly. If you ask June to marry you, she is gonna say yes. I have zero doubts about it.”

“I don't know, Mason…” he sighed. “Because I've brought up the topic a few times since Vittoria got engaged, and she's always ignored me and started to talk about something else. It's like she avoids it.”

“What do you mean?”

“After Vitto’s engagement party I asked her about the ring, if it was her style and if she liked it, and she gave me a vague answer and started to talk about the food. Same after she came back from going wedding dress shopping for the first time with her and after she told us they were going to get married in Italy. I asked her if she liked any of that for herself, and she changed the topic. And do you know why, Mason? Because she doesn't want to marry me.”

“Ben, I think you are taking things out of context here.”

“I'm not” he insisted. “After what happened when we moved in she got scared, and now she doesn't want to take the next step in our relationship because she fears everything may go to hell.”

“But that won't be happening.”

“I know! But you know June. After all these years, she still feels insecure about us. You don't know how many times she's told me that she has to pinch herself from time to time to make sure that she isn't dreaming, that her happiness is real.”

“That's something cute to say, Chilly. Not insecurity.”

“But this is June, Mason. This… nevermind.”

“Ben…”

“Are you buying that watch?”

“I am, but Ben… You need to talk with June about this. Don't be stupid.”

“I will, don't worry. C'mon.”

“Ben…”

“I will” he said. “Now let's go pay for that watch and get something to eat, I'm famished.

“Fine” Mason sighed, giving up.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Hello, Chilwell.”

“Hi” Ben smiled as June sat down on the sofa next to him and kissed his cheek. “How was the wedding dress shopping today?”

“We found the one!”

“Really?”

“Yep” she smiled. “Vittoria looks amazing. She's gonna be the most stunning bride ever.”

“I beg to differ.”

“What?” she laughed.

“You, June Maxwell, are gonna be the most stunning bride ever.”

“I'm afraid you are a bit biased here, Chilwell.”

“It is a fact, not an opinion.”

“You and your facts” she chuckled.

“Yes, me and my facts. They are always right.”

“Are they?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Because I remember you writing about how I would never get to be top 3 at the Ballon d'Or, and a couple of years later there you were, cheering for me when I got second place.”

“The exception that proves the rule” he shrugged. “You are gonna be the most stunning bride ever, June.”

“Yeah, well… I also found my bridesmaid dress, by the way! It's super comfortable, I can even get down on one knee. And it makes my butt look so good. All the girls said that you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself, Chilwell. It's a fact” she smirked.

“Yeah, well…” he said, repeating the same words June had just said, sounding as disinterested as she had.

“Ben, are you ok? Did something happen when you were out with Mason?”

“Uh?”

“You've gone so serious…” she said, caressing his cheek.

“It's nothing, don't worry.”

“Saying that is only making me worry a lot more.”

“I'm fine, June. Just a bit tired” Ben smiled.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok… Why don't you start making dinner while I take a shower and then I help you?”

“Why don't we shower together and then make dinner?” he smirked.

“That actually sounds like a better plan.”

“I know” he grinned.

“But weren't you tired?”

“When it comes to loving you I'm never tired, June.”

“Aww, he's gone all cheesy” she smiled.

“According to Mason, as time has gone by we've become super cheesy.”

“What?”

“Yeah” Ben shrugged. “Anyway, shall we?”

“Let's go” June said, getting up from the sofa. And as she started to walk… “Chilwell!” she laughed when he pinched her butt.

“I'm sorry, Maxwell, I couldn't help myself. It looks so peachy” he smirked again.

“So peachy… so peachy… Idiot!” she said before sticking out her tongue and starting to run upstairs, Ben doing the same after her, both of them laughing like two kids.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“June, have you checked your phone?” Vittoria said.

“Not since before training. Why?” she replied while getting dressed.

“Because there is an article about Ben and Mason in The Sun, and it involves you.”

“Me? How? Did they… Did they find out about when Mason and I…” It had been years since their hook up. Could the press have somehow found out about it now?

“It isn't about that. Look” Vittoria said, showing her her phone.

“Oh my God” June gasped.

“Wedding bells for June Maxwell and Ben Chilwell? The ex football player and tv pundit was seen at a famous jeweller's with best friend Mason Mount, where he stopped to check some engagement rings according to eyewitnesses.”

“June… Do you think… Do you think he is going to propose?” Vittoria asked her.

“I… I… I gotta go” she blurted out, taking her things and almost tripping as she put on her shoes and ran towards the changing room’s door all at the same time.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You've seen it, haven't you?” June said, storming into the kitchen.

“Hello to you too” Ben chuckled.

“Have you seen it or not?” she asked again.

“Seen what?”

“The article on The Sun, Chilwell.”

“Oh, that” he said, finding the carrot he was cutting extremely interesting.

“Yes, that” she replied. “Ben… Are you going to propose?”

“Straight to the point” he said with a sad chuckle.

“Are you or not?”

“I'm not, June. I know you don't want to marry me, so why bother?”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah” he shrugged.

“Why do you say that, Ben?”

“Because it is the truth. Didn't you hear the way you just sighed when I said that I'm not going to propose?”

“Yes, but…”

“And for the past few months you've been avoiding the topic every time I've brought it up, always starting to talk about something else. I guess you are scared of things going to hell like happened when we moved in together, afraid that this time we may not be able to fix them because getting married is something big.”

“Ben, that's not it” June said, moving to stand next to him.

“Isn't it?”

“No, it isn't” she said, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. “Ben, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“But…”

“There isn't a but.”

“Then why don't you want to marry me? I thought marriage was something you believed in.”

“And I do. I do believe in marriage, Ben.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding talking about it, June?”

“It's…” she said, looking for the right words. “Ben, I want to marry you. I truly do. But not now.”

“What?” he said.

“It isn't the right moment. And not because I am scared. I mean, a little part of my brain will always be scared, that's who I am” she shrugged. “But not my heart. Never my heart. Because you mended it with your love, Ben. And every night when I fall asleep, I do it knowing that you are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. The man of my dreams, the one I'm destined to grow old with. Because I love you, Benjamin James Chilwell. I fucking love you, you hear me?”

“I love you too, June Elizabeth Maxwell” he smiled. “And to be honest, we don't need a piece of paper telling us what we already know, do we?”

“Exactly. So stop with the conspiracy theories, ok? That was my job, not yours.”

“Ok” he chuckled.

“I'm serious, Chilwell. Now that I don't have doubts anymore, that I'm 100% sure I want this… us… I don't need you, the one who has been sure about his feelings since the beginning, starting to doubt.”

“I won't fuck it up. I promise.”

“Swear it on your collection of trainers.”

“What?” Ben laughed.

“Do it. Swear it on them.”

“Ok, ok. I swear it. No more doubts.”

“Good” June smiled. “Because I do want to marry you, Ben. I do, and I will. You just need to be a bit patient, ok?”

“Ok” he smiled back, all the stupid doubts he had been having, finally going away. June loved him, and she wanted to marry him, she wanted it all with him. Nothing had changed.

“Now move that nice ass of yours and get our dinner ready. I'm famished.”

“So bossy, Maxwell” he said with a teasing smile.

“Get used to it, Chilwell. You are stuck with me for the rest of your very long life.”

“Looking forward to it” he smiled. And he had meant it. Because he was looking forward to growing old and grey (maybe a bit bald too) with her, married or not.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A few months later...

“Ben…”

“Uhm?”

“Ben, there are people watching.”

“And?”

“And we can't do this in front of them” June said, taking the hand that was dangerously moving up her thigh and letting it rest on the table. “This, has to stay here.”

“It can't, Maxwell. Because you and the girls were right. That bridesmaid dress is making it impossible to keep my hands to myself.”

“Well, you must, Chilwell. It is Vittoria's wedding, and we can't ruin it because we are getting arrested for inappropriate behaviour. Have you forgotten that her dad is a police officer?”

“How could I?” he laughed. “May I remind you that when we started dating and you introduced us, he basically threatened to throw me in the deepest part of the Mediterranean if I dared hurting you?”

“He loves me very much, yes” she smiled.

“He does. Though not as much as I love you.”

“Chilwell!” June giggled when he started kissing her neck.

“Guys, can you please leave that for later?” Lauren interrupted them. “It's time for our speech.”

“You are giving a speech?” Ben said after giving June one last kiss that he knew would be leaving a mark on her neck.

“We are, yes. Didn't June tell you about it? We are the bride's best friends.”

“English best friends” June corrected her.

“Whatever” Lauren said. “C'mon, they are waiting for us.”

“Ok, fine. I'm… Chilwell!” she yelped as she got up from her chair.

“Yes?” he said with an innocent smile.

“Did you just pinch my butt?”

“Maybe” he shrugged. “I already told you I can't keep my hands to myself, Maxwell. And that dress makes your bum look so peachy” he smirked.

“You two are disgusting. C'mon” Lauren said, grabbing June's arm and dragging her away from Ben before he tried something else.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“And that's how Vittoria became our best friend” Lauren smiled, the crowd still laughing at the anecdote.

“We love you, Vitto” June said.

“And I love you too!” she replied, wiping away a tear.

“But June, speaking of loving someone…” Lauren said. “I think there was something you wanted to say.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you” she said, taking the microphone. “So, as you all probably know because you saw us making out on live tv after we won the World Cup a few years ago, I'm dating this chap called Ben Chilwell. Chilly according to his friends. Though if my friends gave me that nickname, I would end our friendship right there. Chilly? Really?” June said, everyone laughing again. “Anyway… Besides seeing us kiss, you all probably heard me telling him that I loved him. Cute, I know” she smiled. “But what you don't know, is that that was the first time I was telling him those three words. I had tried a few times before, but someone or something always interrupted us. And to be honest, doing it the way I did and where I did it, makes it a better story to tell our grandchildren, doesn't it? And we could tell them more stories. Like, for example, that at first we couldn't stand each other and that he was my number one hater. I'm sure some of you still remember Ben's facts” she said, air quoting that last word and rolling her eyes. “Or how he scared the hell out of all of us when we thought he had had a heart attack, and it made me realize that I was in love with him. Or how we became girlfriend and boyfriend while flying over the Indian Ocean. As you can see, we like doing things our own way, and kind of go big or go home. And tonight, it won't be any different. So, Chilwell, could you please join me up here?” June said with her most charming smile. “C'mon, don't be shy.”

“I'll go fetch him” Lauren offered, all the guests looking at them.

“Hello” June smiled when they joined her on the little stage that had been set for the band that was playing later.

“Hi” Ben smiled back. “And what the fuck, Maxwell” he whispered while she kissed his cheek.

“You are blushing… cute” she whispered back.

“My face has been burning since you started talking about us and everyone was looking my way. What are you doing, June?”

“Patient, Chilwell” she smirked. “Could we please get a round of applause for my gorgeous boyfriend? He's a bit nervous.”

“June…” he hissed when everyone started clapping.

“Like I just said, in our relationship we don't do things the usual way. And on this occasion, it won't be any different. So” June said, giving the microphone back to Lauren while she gave her something else. Something small that fit in the palm of her hand. “Benjamin James Chilwell. Chilwell… Ben… Would you marry me?” she said, getting down on one knee and showing him what Lauren had given her: a little box with a ring inside it.

“June” he gasped. “I… I… Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Maxwell. I will marry you.”

“Yay!” Lauren started clapping next to them while all the guests cheered, Ben helping June stand up so she would not ruin her dress. If someone was going to do that, it would be him when he took it off her.

“You are fucking crazy, Maxwell” he laughed while she put the ring on his finger.

“For you? Most definitely” she smiled. “I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too, June” he said before wrapping his arms around her and giving her one of those kisses you only see in movies, the cheers around them getting louder.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Now I understand it all” Ben said while staring at his ring.

“Understand what?” June said, moving to look at him.

After the proposal, getting greeted by their friends and basically everyone at the wedding, and celebrating by dancing until their feet hurt, they had finally retired to their room, where Ben had done what he had been dreaming of the whole day: be all over June. Though the part about ripping the dress out of her, hadn't actually happened.

They both had been so eager and desperate to be in each other's arms, that the moment they had crossed their room's door they hadn't bothered to take off their clothes. They had done it against the wall, June's dress wrapped around her waist, Ben still in his suit. It had been once they had gotten all that almost animalistic need and want out of their systems, that they had slowed down, whispering love words and kissing and caressing each other until no clothes were on their bodies, getting to properly enjoy the night.

“The way you have been behaving since Vittoria got engaged. You have been planning it all since then, haven't you? And the girls have helped you.”

“Yep” June smiled. “You weren't the only one who had started to think about taking the next step, Ben. Though unlike you, and in an unexpected turn of events, I was the one who was completely sure about her feelings, our relationship, and that I wanted to marry you.”

“Yeah” he chuckled. “I just… I don't know why I started to feel so insecure, why it got in my head the way it did. Because I also was sure about my feelings for you, our relationship, and that I wanted to marry you. But I… I don't know” he sighed.

“That's in the past, Ben” June said, caressing his cheek. “What matters now, is that we love each other and that we both are on the same page. That we both want to get married and spend the rest of our lives together.”

“We do” he smiled. “I can't wait to call you my wife.”

“And I can't wait to call you Mr. Maxwell.”

“What?” he laughed.

“If you think I'm going to change my last name, you are very wrong, Chilwell.”

“I'm not changing mine either, Maxwell.”

“It would be very cool, tho. And Benjamin Maxwell sounds lovely.”

“We can save that name for our first kid, then” he said, pulling her closer towards him.

“I'm not naming our kids after us, I'm sorry.”

“Why not? I love your name, it is so unique.”

“Then why do you call me Maxwell all the time, uh?” she asked with a teasing smile.

“I don't know. I guess it got stuck after always calling you like that on tv” he shrugged. “And you call me Chilwell all the time too.”

“Yes, but I do it to tease you” she grinned.

“Rude” Ben chuckled. “But if I change my last name to Maxwell, you won't be able to do it anymore. Think about it.”

“And I do love calling you Chilwell…”

“Then it is settled. No last name change.”

“No last name change for us. But…”

“But?”

“You just said that Benjamin Maxwell sounded nice for our kids. Does that mean that they will have my last name?” she smirked, moving even closer towards him.

“I'll think about it.”

“Is there anything I could do to help you think?” she said, her hand slowly moving from his chest all the way down to his belly button.

“That's cheating, June” Ben said, his body tensing under her touch.

“We haven't set any rules, so” she shrugged, her hand still moving down.

“We… fuck” Ben gasped.

“I think I have the winning hand here.”

“June!” he laughed. “But…” he said, moving to be on top of her and totally catching her by surprise. “I also have an ace in the hole. Well, almost.”

“Benjamin!” June said, also laughing.

“You started it all, Maxwell” he shrugged.

“I did, yes” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you, fiancé.”

“Is that your new nickname for me? Fiancé?”

“It has a nice ring to it too, don't you think? No pun intended.”

“It actually does, yes” Ben chuckled. “But I guess that from now on I'll have to say that I love you too… fiancée” he smiled before kissing her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Good morning, fiancé.”

“Good morning” Ben smiled.

“Pepper, have I told you that he is my fiancé? This guy right here?” June said, hugging from behind and wrapping her arms around him. “This gorgeous man, is my fiancé, Pepper.”

“Meow” he replied, sat next to them waiting for Ben to maybe give him something to eat.

“I think he heard you the first time” Ben chuckled.

“Just in case he forgot” she shrugged.

“Keeping in mind that you are constantly reminding him and everyone that crosses paths with you that I am your fiancé…”

“Are you calling me annoying, Chilwell?”

“I would never dare, Maxwell.”

“Good” she said, resting her head on his shoulder while he kept making their breakfast. “But it isn't my fault I'm happy and want to share it with the world. Or my world at least, not the outside one. That one can wait.”

“And to think I believed you didn't want to marry me…” Ben said.

“You and your insecurities. I wonder who you got them from.”

“Right?” he laughed. “But they are gone, and aren't coming back. I swear it on my sneakers collection.”

“That's my boy. Wait, no. My fiancé” she corrected herself.

“A fiancé that won't be able to finish making you a delicious breakfast if you keep hugging him like that.”

“Don't you like it?” she asked, kissing the back of his neck.

“I love it, June. You know I do. But we also need to eat something that isn't the other” he smirked, moving on her arms until he was facing her.

“Shame” she sighed.

“We can do it later, tho.”

“I like how that sounds” she smirked back.

“Now why don't you go get the garden table ready? It's a glorious day, we should eat outside.”

“Ok… fiancé” June giggled before kissing Ben's nose and letting go of him, humming something to herself while Pepper followed her around and he just stared at her. “Chilwell, our breakfast.”

“Yes, our breakfast. Sorry” he smiled, giving her one last look and focusing on their food, thinking that he was the luckiest man alive.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“You know, if things as a manager don't work out, you should open a restaurant.”

“What?” Ben laughed.

“Or maybe a bed and breakfast. We could buy a small house somewhere in the countryside and turn it into one! You would cook, and I would take care of everything else.”

“Do you see yourself living in the countryside?”

“I actually do, yes” June smiled.

“You had never told me that.”

“It is a recent dream of mine. But I still have at least a couple of good years playing football before I have to start thinking about retiring and all that.”

“What would you call it?”

“Uh?”

“Your bed and breakfast. What would you call it? June's?” Ben asked her.

“What about… Chilly in June?” she laughed.

“That sounds too weird.”

“Maxwell and Chilwell?”

“Umm… It could work.”

“Does this mean that you are in? That you would move to the countryside with me?” she asked him.

“I would go to the end of the world with you, June” he smiled.

“Aww, Ben” she smiled back. “Though we've kind of done that already. We went to Australia together, remember?”

“We did, yes” he chuckled. “And I have something for you” he said when they managed to stop looking at each other like two idiots in love, which was what they actually were.

“For me?”

“For you” Ben said, giving her a Kinder egg.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you giving me one now?”

“Can't a fiancé give her fiancée a little present?” he chuckles.

“Of course he can. But this is like our thing after games, and the season hasn't started yet.”

“I know.”

“Then?”

“Then what?”

“Then why are you giving me this now?”

“Maxwell, can you please just accept it and stop asking so many questions?” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Ok, ok. Do you want half of it?”

“It's all yours, June.”

“Ummm…”

“What now?” Ben sighed.

“You are nervous” she said, opening the egg and following the same routine sh had since she was a little girl. First she would carefully unwrap it so the paper was as intact as possible. Then she would open it making sure each half was perfect and they didn't break, and after that, she would check the surprise before eating the chocolate.

“I'm not nervous” he chuckled.

“Yes, you are, Chilwell. Is there something I should know?”

“What?”

“I think there is something going on, something you aren't telling. Something… Ben” June gasped when she opened the surprise. “What… This… You…”

“This had been my plan all along, you know?” he said. “To ask you to marry me like this, in our garden after making and eating breakfast together, and with the ring inside a Kinder egg surprise. I wanted it to happen in the place where we fell in love, in our home. But you, Miss Maxwell, had other plans and beat me to it” he chuckled.

“I… sorry?”

“It's ok” he said, taking the ring. “May I still do it?”

“Do what?”

“Ask you to marry me, June. I know we already are engaged, but…”

“Yes.”

“I haven't asked yet, Maxwell” he smirked.

“Oh, shut up and just do it, Chilwell” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Ok” he said, still smirking as he got down on one knee. “June Elizabeth Maxwell. Would you do me the immense honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes. Yes, yes and yes!” she said, jumping at him and hugging him.

“June!” he said as they both fell down.

“Shit. Are you ok?”

“I am, don't worry” he chuckled, sitting up and making June do the same on his lap. “May I?”

“Please” she said, extending her hand.

“Perfect. Do you like it?”

“I love it, Ben. And I love you. I love so very much.”

“I love you too, June” he said. And as he leaned forward to kiss her… “Pepper!”

“Meow!” the cat said, jumping to sit between them.

“That's his way of giving you his blessing” she laughed.

“Well, thank you very much, sir. May I now kiss my future wife? My fiancée?”

“Meow!” Pepper replied before jumping again and starting to run after a butterfly.

“I think that's a yes.”

“If that's the case… Were was I?”

“You were about to kiss me… fiancé.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you… fiancée” he smiled before finally kissing June.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A year (or so) later...

“I still can't believe this is how they've decided to do it” Mason said.

“What is wrong with it?” Reece asked.

“Nothing, but… I don't know. Didn't June say that they are like, go big or go home with important moments in their relationship?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are they getting married… here?” Mason said, looking around.

“I think it is cute. This place means a lot to them, it is where they fell in love.”

“Yes, but… They are getting married in their house, Reece. In their garden.” And it had all been June's idea.

She and Ben had spent months looking at venues all around the country and even some in France and Spain during their holidays, but none of them had felt right. Not until during a lovely spring day, June found what they were looking for.

They had been sitting on the sofas they had in the garden, Ben resting his head on her lap while going through some notes from his manager school like she liked calling it, and June running her hand through his hair and keeping an eye on Pepper, who was trying to catch a lizard. And in that moment, surrounded by all the flowers Ben had so meticulously planted and taken care of over the years, the smell from the lunch they had cooked together still in the air, she had felt it: happiness. Pure bliss.

Life could freeze in that moment, repeat over and over again as if they were stuck in a loop, and she would still feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

That garden… their garden… was the perfect place to celebrate their love. After all, it had been where it all had started.

“There you are” Leah said, walking towards Mason and Reece. “They are ready, it's time.”

“Can't believe we are about to witness June and Ben getting married” Reece said.

“You tell me” she chuckled. “Anyway, ready to walk me down the aisle, Mount?”

“Yes, ma'am” Mason smiled, offering Leah his arm. After them, Reece and Lauren also were getting ready to walk into the garden, Vittoria and John behind them, Pepper chilling in his arms.

That had been one of the pros June had told Ben while trying to convince him to get married in the garden: Pepper could be with them.

“Are you nervous?” Ben's mum asked him as they went down the stairs, Mason and Leah already outside, Reece and Lauren following them.

“You have no idea” he said with a nervous laugh. “Did you get to see her?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“She looks breathtaking, Ben. You'll see for yourself in just a minute.”

“If she hasn't run away…”

“Benjamin!” his mum said, hitting his arm.

“I'm joking, I’m joking” he laughed. “I know she isn't going anywhere. She can't. Because like I’m saying on my vows, my heart belongs to her just as hers belongs to me.”

“Aww, Benny” she smiled. “Ready?” she asked when they made it to the door.

“Ready” he nodded, taking a deep breath and stepping outside, all their guests smiling at him while Mason, Leah, Reece, Lauren, Vittoria, John and the officiant waited for him next to the arch of flowers at the end of the garden, Pepper already chilling on his favorite bed next to it.

“Relax, bro” he heard Mason say behind him once he joined them, his mum sitting next to June’s parents and trying not to cry. Again. She had already done it a few times while they were getting ready, especially when he had shown her that he was going to wear the same tie his dad had worn on their wedding day. “This way he will also be with me on the most important day of my life” he had told her.

“I'm…” relaxed. That was what Ben would have liked to say. But the music had changed, and everyone was looking at the door that led to the garden, at the two people who were walking through it: June and her dad. “Bloody hell” he whispered, his eyes fixed on June. She looked… she… she was… She…

“Hello, Chilwell” she smiled when she joined him.

“Breathtaking.”

“What?”

“My mum was right. You look breathtaking, June” he finally managed to say.

“Thank you” she replied, feeling her cheeks get warmer and warmer by the second. Ben had called her any synonym of beautiful you could think of since they had gotten together, but he had never done it while looking at her the way he was in that moment: in complete awe.

“I thought you said your dress could rival Princess Diana's. What happened?” he asked.

“It got lost somewhere” she shrugged. “Don't you like this one? Lauren said it fits me just like my Versace one but in white and longer” she said, looking down at it. It was a very simple white dress, it didn't have anything special. But Lauren's comment had stuck with her even after trying on others, which according to her mum meant that it was the one.

“And she's not wrong” Ben said, remembering how good June had looked the first time he had seen her wearing that dress. How smoking hot she looked. “Is that why you are wearing the same hairpins?” he asked, nodding towards her hair.

“You've noticed!” she smiled, touching them.

“Of course I have, Maxwell. I remember every single detail of how you looked that night. And after today” he said, taking a step closer towards her. “I will also remember every single detail of how breathtaking you are looking right now.”

“Ben…” she whispered, also moving forward.

“Ahem” the officiant said when June's hand touched Ben's face. “The kiss is for later. You aren't married yet.”

“Sorry” they both apologised, moving back to their positions.

“May I start?” the officiant asked them.

“You may” Ben said. “And sorry. Again.”

“It's ok” he said before starting with the ceremony, one where June and Ben didn't stop looking at each other. Not when Pepper let out a big meow that made everyone laugh, and especially not when they said their vows. Though through the corner of her eye, June noticed Reece asking his sister for a handkerchief and wiping away some tears. “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride” the officiant said.

“Finally” Ben smiled before wrapping his arms around June and kissing her, everyone clapping and cheering. “I love you, June” he said against her lips. “Or should I say wife? Because that's what you are now, Maxwell. You are my wife. Did you hear that, guys? June Maxwell is my wife!”

“Chilwell!” she said while hitting his arm, everyone laughing.

“What? It is the truth. You are my wife, Maxwell” he smirked.

“I know. And in case you've forgotten, you are my husband. And I love you.”

“Say that again, please.”

“What?”

“The last three words. After all these years, I still am not used to hearing you saying them” Ben teased her.

“Idiot” she laughed.

“Yet you love me” he said, pulling her even closer towards him.

“I do. I love you very much… husband” June smiled.

“And I love you too, wife” he smiled back before kissing her again, more cheers and some meows surrounding them.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell fanfic #ben chilwell imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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chaifootsteps · 2 days

Note

Rewrite of the Seeing Stars episode :

Instead of the Episode kicking off on Stolas' side of the story, have it start on Blitz and Loona's argument. Have Blitz wait a few hours before looking for her after she stormed off only to find out Loona had packed her stuff and left their home. Have him worry and look for clues before realising the Grimoire was also gone. He doesn't hesitate, he knows he'd be in big trouble and the whole situation would be more awkward after what went down at Asmodeus but he doesn't care, and calls Stolas to ask for his help. Stolas doesn't answer his phone right away which was strange but Blitz chalked it up to what went down a few days prior. Stolas picks up after a few rings

"Blitz, I don't know what you're calling me for but you have no idea how much this came at the right time. There's a dozen of things I want to tell you, I know I have to tell you, but right now I need your help. Octavia, my daughter... I think she ran away from our home. I need you and your team to cover more ground than I could in Hell to find her. I think she went to an event, something big happening today. I don't know where but it's at nighttime and... She's gonna stay out all alone that late. Who knows the number of people who'd try harming her for being my daughter... Loo Loo Land was a close call on more than one time and she doesn't have half of my magic powers-..."

Blitz relates to Stolas' predicament and reassures him that he'll send M & M's to check on the biggest teen hot spots in Hell for him. They got a big contact list from all the places Loona often started brawls at... He then drops a bomb on Stolas about the Grimoire and how he thinks Loonie used it to head to Earth and how he needs to find his daughter before anything bad happens to her too. Stolas agrees to help Blitz because, the sooner his hellhound daughter is found, the more people could help find his daughter. Loona's sense of smell could help retrace Via's steps ! (He'll bring a few of her belongings with them on their trip to Earth so she'll start right away once they find her!)

They make their trip to Earth and land in Los Angeles where they get mistaken for some human super stars. Blitz is about to explain that this is a big misunderstanding to these folks when Stolas gets a genius idea : If they perform together well enough, they could use the TV broadcast to send a message to Loona, convince her to return back home and get her to meet somewhere so they'll all be able to go back to Hell. Blitz has left his acting career way behind him but for the sake of Loona, he'd have another go at it, no questions asked. It was a bit hard at the start but he found his footing again and gives some pieces of advice to Stolas while at it. They perform well enough but Stolas suddenly gets very distracted during break time and nearly blows their cover... It's because during break time an announcement was made for tonight's big event : Meteor shower. While he rummaged through the few things he brought with him from Via's room, he took out the calendar and finally understood that the date circled was tied to an event not in Hell but on Earth. (Cue to the Stolas and Via flashback from the start of the canon episode here)

Their daughters were actually together on Earth.

So how did things go on Octavia and Loona's side of the plot this whole time in this rewrite ? Octavia couldn't really go around Hell as a Goatia so she was disguising herself as a normal hellborn all the way to I M P to get the Grimoire from there and was basically using that fake identity when she crossed paths with Loona. She knew how to use the Grimoire better than her and decided to make a deal with her : They go to Earth together and in exchange, she'll show her a cool place there... Loona isn't convinced. Octavia pulls out a wad of cash from her shadow hammer space and says the expenses will be all on her. Loona is convinced.

They genuinely have a good time together in their girls' day out, discovering Los Angeles, going on restaurants but eventually Blitz and Stolas' broadcast reaches them and while Loona's surprised, Octavia runs off to the Observatory before Loona notices her being gone... Loona finds her and Via starts off by apologising for lying to her this whole time. She then explains her situation with her family and why she ran away. Loona does the same. Octavia adds that she left before Stolas could finish his apology because she learnt his routine. He pretends to care about her, messes up big time or doesn't notice her discomfort, goes after her when she runs away and apologises... Only to do this all over again. At this point she knows he just apologises to feel better about himself without realizing what he needs to apologize for or knowing what wrong he did to her. "It's the same thing here : He really doesn't know what he did wrong. He just apologised for show... Heh. Literally on live TV." ... But Loona tells her it's not the case this time. She knew she'd find her at the Observatory because Stolas said he'd join her there himself. "High ground, no trees, little to no city lights, ... All for the most perfect view."

Blitz and Stolas reach the Observatory on time and while Stolas and Octavia are enjoying the meteor shower on the dome in silence, Blitz and Loona have a chat. Blitz tries to apologize but Loona quickly changes the subject to his performance in the sitcom they used for the broadcast. She is... Complimenting him. He is flustered and deeply touched to hear these words and especially from his daughter. She then reveals something to him : She always wanted to be an actress. Sure it's not a job for hellhounds but it has always been something she wanted to do herself.

This is Loona's way of opening up to Blitz after their fight earlier and her rather standoffish, closed off attitude and why she hates working a desk job (even if IMP is Blitz's dream business come true), really seeming to enjoy herself the most when she is pretending to be someone else, like for the contract kills at Verosika's concert.

The episode ends with Via and Stolas fulling their promise for a dream they share together and on Blitz and Loonie's side, they are making their own promises for the future and are each building their own dreams. The meteor shower seals the new promises and the wishes that go with it

Thank you for the beautiful rewrite. Helluva Boss if it had character bonding and empathy in it.

#Anonymous #helluva boss critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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min0uet · 1 day

Note

I’m not a fan of kabru/mithrun but can I ask why it’s bad to ship? I’ve read the whole manga and afaik they’re not related, theyre both adults.

hi anon. i know you're asking in good faith and i'm gonna answer in good faith, but before i do, i have to say it's kinda wild that multiple people interpreted "you're weird for shipping this" as "there is something deeply morally wrong with this ship" when i never actually said that. a ship can be bad without breaking some kind of moral or societal taboo, and i think more of you have to remember that. sometimes things just suck. sometimes you can just be a hater.

that said, here's why kabru/mithrun is weird. first of all one thing that really bothers me is the age gap. not literally of course, they're different races so comparing literal numbers means nothing; i mean in terms of maturity. here's a post about otta that i think is applicable: [link] the main relevant point is that you can roughly divide an elf's age by five to get a sense of how old they are in tallman years. mithrun is 185, and in tallman years would be about 37. kabru is 22, and that's just way too big of an age gap for me. like, it doesn't even fit into that "half your age plus seven" rule. again, before people get defensive, i'm not calling the ship """problematic""" or whatever bullshit. i'm just saying, personally, they're too far apart for me.

there's also the part where the canaries are milsiril's peers, not kabru's. kabru/mithrun would be like dating one of your mom's old coworkers. gonna link to another post here since i'm just repeating the same points they made: [link] this one's not as notable since it's not like milsiril and mithrun were besties or anything, just another thing that feels weird.

okay, i've explained my good faith reasons for disliking kabru/mithrun. now i get to be a hater.

hey did you guys forget that mithrun is like, openly racist?

like you can ship what you want or whatever, but i think if you're gonna ship kabru with this guy then you shouldn't complain when people call you weird for it. i'm just saying.

#like i don't know if shippers just haven't read this part or they think it's not a big deal or what but i'm not fucking with it.#harold.txt #Anonymous #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi

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makemake22 · 2 days

Text

Heart To Heart

like, literally, duh

I saw many headcanon about this. And even some people who write this. So here we go.

body gore, Law heart was outside his body because of his devil fruit

Anyway, thanks for @nina-ya and all hc who makes some Law take out YN heart. But, we also need Law take his own heart out so we can tease it, yes?

It was late at night, you ask a question that has been on your mind to your boyfriend, aka Law. You always saw him take enemies heart off, how he clench their heart, bring out pain. You can't help but wondering...

"I am curious," You said, Law who was on his chair, reading his medical journal, tilt his head to the side.

"What does it feel like holding organ on your hand," You looked at your own palm, remembering and trying to imitate the feel of cube. A cube of heart on her hand.

Law on the other hand, didn't looks enthusiastic on the idea. His steel eyes still staring into the journal.

"Not so interesting," he said. You whine and rolled on his bed. Looking at your boyfriend upside down.

"Come on, Law, tell me," You pouted. "Does it feel weird? Does it something makes you jump or something? Or feel disgust by it?"

"YN..." He sighed and closed the journal. When you ask, if he didn't give an answer, or a satisfying answer, you're gonna keep asking even in the middle of chores. Law slam his hand into his face, you lucky he was your boyfriend. Because if you were Penguin or Shachi, Law would teleported them outside his room.

Law stand up, you looked at him with spark in your eyes. Will he finally answer?

"why not try it yourself?" He smirk. Before you could question it, he summon Room and on both of your palm, there was a cube.

"WAAAAA!" You throw it upward from surprise, Law face gone pale. But luckily after several attempt to throw it around, you manage to capture it.

"Urgh!" Law clench his chest, one of his knees drop to the ground. His eyes half lidded, almost glaring at you.

You gulped and looked at him with worry. You accidentally hold it a bit too hard. "S-sorry! I am holding it too hard," You immediately caressing the heart cube, giving shiver to the tattooed man.

You are confused when his heart suddenly beats quite fast. You looked at him. His hat overshadowed his eyes so you couldn't see him.

"Y-yeah, it's fine," Law said. He still clenches his chest just in case. Trying to not let his voice crack. He acts normal like usual. He stands up and pulls his chair. Law sit down and lean against the chair. The tanned man trying to calm down.

"Are you sure? Your heart---"

"I am fine, YN. Just, stop asking."

His word makes you quiet. Law slowly build his composure and his heart beat normally. You look at it and sigh, seem he really fine.

While you are at it, you trying to feel the heart. It's quite weird, holding your boyfriend heart like this. Slowly, your lips gone into a smile.

Trying to not think about him. You know how trust is sacred to him. It takes months for Law to reveal his past to you. That's also after Doflamingo was defeated.

He tells you about his sister, his parent and Corazon. You glad he opened up to you back then.

But this is another level.

You can't hurt him with that information. Sure, you can spill the information to Marine or someone else. But they're gone. Dead.

But this thing?

If this falls into the wrong hand, the life of Trafalgar law, Surgeon of Death aka Captain of The Heart is easy to end. If this fall into Doflamingo hand, he easily enslaved him.

Just like how Law sold 100 pirate hearts to Marine, he's gonna be a puppet to Marine if this fall to them. Something that Law despises, being a puppet.

Thump... Thump...

His heart beat again, you chuckled. This not gone unnoticed by him.

"What's so funny?" he glared but not to scare you.

"Nothing, it's just... just for sake answering my question, you took your own heart. Not mine,"

Law stunned. You also stunned at him. Does this mean that he does this out of instinct? He doesn't think two steps ahead?

Your boyfriend makes lots of surprises. In a good way.

"I glad you trust me, Law," you smirk. Your thumb now caressing his heart. It earn shiver from him. "I know i said that more than once, but i really glad you did."

Law didn't say anything. You know his ears red, judging by how he tilt his hat downward. Maybe his cheeks also gone red, you don't know.

His heart was in the cube. The cube are soft and jelly. And no, it doesn't make you hungry. You won't bite it anyway, it grosses you out. You might get dream about this if you did have a little bite---

"Don't. Even. Think. About. It."

You looked at him, glaring dangerously. Damn, he seem know what you were thinking to give that eyes.

"I don't think anything," you said as you chuckle. "Anyway, since you give me your trust, i suppose it's good to reward you,"

Before Law could say anything, you lean into the cube. Give a peck right on the middle of the heart.

Thump! Thump!

Damnit, why now... Law cursed under his breath as his heart beating faster at your gesture. His cheeks are heated and he can feel his ears also gone red.

He immediately look away and pulled his hat even lower. You notice the gesture and chuckle.

"Now, should i shower your heart with my kisses?"

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law headcanons #cheese writing #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar law x oc

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hoziersmicrophone · 3 days

Text

coffee | ross macdonald

A/N: this is my first fic!! & it was inspired by the song “coffee” by Chappell roan, I highly recommend listening to it:)

WARNINGS: angst, suggestions of smut, not a happy ending‼️

pls enjoy <3

Can't meet you for dinner at the Italian place

It's where I met your family, some words were exchanged

I'd suggest the jazz bar on MaryAnn Street but

You'd buy me a drink and we know where that leads, so

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make dinner tonight, something’s come up. I’m really sorry. Do you want to do something maybe during the day tomorrow before you leave for Toronto?”

As soon as she sent the text message, she began to get anxious and rubbed her fingers against each other. She was aware that Ross would be fine with switching things up, as he usually is, but she regrets calling off their long-planned dinner. In less than 48 hours, he was heading out for the Canadian portion of the tour.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and saw that he was calling. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, before swiping to answer the call and bringing the phone to her ear.

“Ross, hi,”

“Is everything okay, love? What’s come up? Is something wrong?” his concerned voice echoed on the other end of the line, she knew he was alone in his hotel room.

She smiled softly at his sincerity, “Nothing’s wrong, and I’m okay, I promise. It’s just been a long day and I don’t really feel up for dinner. I’m tired,”

“Ah,” he sighed, “Okay, well, if you want, I can come over to your place for a bit? We can just relax, maybe watch a movie? I know you’ve been wanting to watch Challengers for a while- we could rent it yeah?”

He sounded calm and collected, but on the other end of the phone call, Ross had begun to wonder if she didn’t want to see him at all, and that this was just her way of attempting to let him down easy.

“That sounds great, actually. I’ll see you in an hour or so?”

He repressed a sigh of relief and smiled, “Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”

With a sigh, she ended the call and collapsed onto her couch. He was heading out with the guys shortly; they would be gone for six months, only doing two shows in Scotland during that time. She didn't want to upset him, but she also didn't want to drop everything she was doing to go on tour with her boyfriend.

They hadn't discussed the tour much, and she didn't want to be the first to bring it up. In fact, Ross hadn't even asked her if she wanted to go. She loved him, and even though she didn't want to end things, she wasn't able to see their future together as clearly as she once could.

I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you want me, I know that's a lie

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

An hour later Ross was at her apartment. He knocked twice on the door, and she opened it, wearing sweatpants, smiling at the man in front of her.

He offered a small hug, which she reciprocated as he walked through the door, “I brought wine,” he handed her a bottle of Merlot.

“Oh thank you,” she paused and put the bottle on the counter, “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Shall I get the glasses?” he asked as he headed towards the kitchen, “I can make some popcorn too,”

“Sure Ross,” she smiled softly, “That would be amazing, thank you,” and she sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, finding the movie.

A few minutes later, Ross came back and set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table while offering her a glass. She gave him a thank-you smile, and as the movie began, he put an arm around her and pulled her in close.

“I’m gonna miss this,” he whispered into the top of her head, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She nodded, blinking away the stray tears that had formed in her eyes at his words. He evidently had no plans of asking her to join him on tour, he just expected her to sit around and wait for his return.

She exhaled shakily and took a sip of her wine, “Me too,”

They sat in silence and comfort as they watched the film, with a few quips being made at the sex scenes and the intensity of them. The movie ended and Ross stood up, “Do you want another glass to finish off the bottle?”

With a nod, she got to her feet and asked, "Why don't I get them this time?" and she proceeded to the kitchen with their glasses. As she reached for the bottle, removed the cork, and started to pour, she heard his footsteps behind her but chose not to acknowledge him.

Ross’s arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close, hugging her from behind.

“Ross,” she exhaled as she took a sip of her wine.

“Hm?” he murmured as he kissed the part of her shoulder that was exposed from her sweater.

“We need to talk about something,” she pulled out of his arms and turned around to face him, worry evidently etched on her features.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re going away for six months,” she sighed, “And you- you didn’t even ask me how I felt about it or if I wanted to come with you.”

“Love,” he frowned, “I know how you feel about it, but it's my job! Besides, I didn’t think you’d want to come with us, I know you have a life here and-”

“I still would have liked to have been asked,” she said, her voice almost a whisper as she avoided his gaze.

“Well, do you want to come on tour with me?”

“Now you’re just asking out of pity, Ross.”

“What else do you want from me?!” he exhaled sharply. The wine on his breath was potent.

She met his gaze, “Don’t snap at me like that. I was just voicing how I was feeling, there is no reason for you to be defensive.”

His jaw locked and he repressed the urge to roll his eyes, “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to say here,”

“You don’t have to say or ask me anything, I just wanted to feel heard.”

“Well, do you?”

“I don’t know. It feels a bit like you’re having this conversation out of obligation.” she looked away again as her eyes welled up with tears once more, “I’m not going to sit around and wait for you like some kind of dog, Ross. Not for half a year.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t feel wanted in this relationship anymore, and don’t really know if I want it for myself,”

“Well I want you!” Ross exclaimed. He ran his hand through his hair and grabbed her hand, “I love you.”

“I love you too, but-” she was cut off by his lips on hers.

“Let’s not talk anymore,” he whispered against her lips, taking her wine glass out of her hand and placing it on the counter, “At least not right now.”

Her eyes began to well up with tears once more, but she forced a smile on her face and gave him another, stronger kiss. She was determined to make the most out of their final night together if it was to be their last. With a drunken gait, they staggered through the house until they arrived at her bedroom. With their lips still attached, the door closed behind them.

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your place

You said let's do the park 'cause I love the park

That may be true but god forbid it gets dark

Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions

But I'd rather feel something than nothing at all, so

Ross and the rest of The 1975 crew were in town for their shows in Scotland, and it had been three months since she'd seen or really spoken to him. Even though she hadn't heard from any of them all day and wasn't really expecting it, the fact that their show was in two hours and she hadn't heard anything still stung.

Just as the thought of not hearing anything entered her mind once more, her phone began to vibrate on the table in front of her. She saw that it was George calling, and answered.

“George?”

“Hey doll, how’s it going?”

She rolled her eyes at the nickname, “I’ve been better…how’s tour going? You guys are in town tonight, right? Glasgow?”

“Been keeping tabs on us?”

“Oh shut up, Daniel,”

He laughed, “Are you coming out tonight?”

“Couldn’t snag tickets.” That was only partially the truth. She did want to go, but didn’t want to see Ross. That, and the fight for tickets was a fucking bloodbath.

“If you come to the backdoors one of us will let you in sweetheart,”

“Really desperate to get me there tonight aren’t you George?”

“Would it be wrong of me to say that we miss you?”

“We?” She asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

“Yeah! Me, Matty, Hahn, Charli, Polly, hell even Jamie misses you!”

Her heart felt heavy at the lack of Ross’s name coming out of George’s mouth, but she brushed it off with a light laugh, “I’ll see you in a bit, but I want a backstage pass.”

“Sure thing doll,” and he hung up the phone.

An hour later, she found herself at the backdoors of the venue the boys were performing at. She had just texted George that she was here and had put her phone in her pocket when the doors swung open and she was pulled into and off the ground by the blonde balding man himself in a bone crushing hug.

“Jesus Christ, Daniel!” she exclaimed as she laughed, being put back down on the ground.

“I told you I missed you, sweetheart,”

“If you don’t lose that nickname soon, the next thing you lose will be your dick,” she warned but grinned, “I missed you too.”

“Let’s go say hi to everyone,” George grabbed her hand and dragged her into the dimly lit backstage, letting the doors slam shut behind them.

She had a blast reuniniting with almost the entire band, and was almost brought to the ground by Matty who would not release her from his hug.

“Shit, are you okay Healy?” She asked between laughing fits.

“He misses you and feels like shit,” Matty spoke in a hushed tone in her ear.

“I’m sure he does, and to be fair, he should feel shitty,” she responded, “I’m not here for him,” she spoke a bit louder as she pulled away from Matty’s hug.

“Who’s not here for who?” asked a voice, cutting around George and stepping into the light where she could see him and he could see her.

She straightened her back and turned around, “Hi,” she said, smiling at the tall man who looked shocked to see her.

“You aren’t here for me?” Ross’s eyes softened as he took in her features.

“Jesus, Ross. Whether or not you choose to believe it, my life does not revolve around you,” she brushed the hostile comment off with a small laugh and turned back to Matty, “You guys go on soon, can I just watch from the wings?”

“Yeah, of course,” he responded with a small glance at Ross, who’s expression remained indifferent.

“Alright lads, let’s get a move on with this show then,” George said, clapping Ross on the back, bringing him back to reality, “And let’s get our dear guest a bottle of wine to drink while she enjoys our performance,” he said to a stagehand, shooting her a wink.

She stood on stage left, which was the audiences’ stage right and watched the show from the wings. It also happened to be the side of the stage Ross played on for the majority of the show. The two kept making eye contact throughout the numbers, but he kept looking away the second her eyes met his. She had consumed over half of the bottle of wine, and was enjoying the buzz as her ears burned with the songs they were performing.

It wasn’t until the second verse of ‘Sex’ when she got distracted watching him play. The way his hair framed his face and he focused so intently on the bass line of the song. The way he almost vibrated with the way the stage shook and how he ignored the screams of the crowd, evidently in love with him. The way his fingers moved; god, she loved his fingers. She was slightly drunk at this moment, but didn’t care. She was happy for the first time in months and never wanted the feeling to go away.

As she was evidently distracted by his performance, she didn’t notice him catching her staring and the slight smirk that creeped its way onto his face.

The song came to an end and he placed his bass on the stand as the rest of the band exited the stage, leaving Polly alone to sing ‘Jesus Christ 2005 God Bless America.’

Ross walked directly towards her and watched as her mouth formed a soft smile with a hint of a twinkle in her eye. “What?” he asked, a puzzled but playful expression on his face.

She grabbed him by the front of the red crewneck he was wearing and pulled him down to face her, and kissed him with just as much intensity as she had done the last time they had seen each other, three months ago. He responded into the kiss for a few seconds then pulled back, grabbing her hand,

“Where is this coming from?”

“Just shut up and kiss me, MacDonald”

He looked like he wanted to ask another question, but decided to ask it later as he kissed her again, pulling her backwards into the dark of the poorly lit backstage. She laughed against his lips as he walked into a mic stand, covering her mouth with her hand to hide a grin.

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying to stifle another laugh.

“Now who needs to shut up?” He retorted before kissing her again.

I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you're sorry, I know that's a lie

If I didn't trust you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

Another three months had passed since the band’s Glasgow shows, and it had been another three months since she had seen Ross. Yes, they saw each other at the show and for the 48 hours the band was in Glasgow, but after that, they took off again, and she was left to her studio apartment and her thoughts.

She was sitting in her pajamas on her couch and was watching a live stream of the band’s last show. They all had high spirits, but she could tell that they were all a little defeated about it being the last one; both fatigue and sadness.

Her iPad screen went black as the stream ended and her heart swelled with pride for the band. They had all worked so hard the past six months and it most definitely paid off. A break was well deserved.

She was woken up by her phone vibrating beside her. According to her clock it was 3AM. Grabbing it, she rubbed her eyes as the screen illuminated the room.

RM: Hey, I get back to Glasgow tomorrow around 1. Do you wanna grab a coffee and chat?

She stared at the text as another came through.

RM: FUCK. I forgot about the time difference. I’m so sorry. Get back to me when you wake up x.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m awake. And I can do coffee, same spot as always?”

RM: Did I wake you?????

“No, you didn’t lol”

RM: Don’t lie to me, it’s 3AM. You’re never up that late.”

“Fine, you did wake me up, but again, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow ”

RM: See you then x

She smiled and put her phone back down, before rolling back over and falling asleep, only waking up when her 11AM weekend alarm went off.

If I didn't trust you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

She walked into the coffee shop, the one they always used to go to, and saw that he was already sitting at a table with two cups in front of him.

Ross stood up when he saw her, and gave her a small hug before she sat down adjacent to him, “I got you a mocha,”

“You remember my order?”

“Of course I do, it’s disgustingly sweet,”

“I’m going to ignore that. How was the rest of the tour?”

They talked about the band, the shows that were better than others, and what they all got up to for the months on the road. Ross mentioned that Polly had started talking to one of the security guards at their show in Toronto and that the two now text almost everyday, and that Polly was planning to spend part of their hiatus in Canada.

“And how were your adventures on the road? Did you get up to anything interesting?” She teased, with a mild smile on her face.

“Not much, really,” he responded.

“Come on MacDonald, you have to give me more than that.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “I was pretty lonely if I’m being honest.”

She inhaled sharply, preparing for the conversation that was about to occur, “It was you who chose to be lonely, you did that to yourself, Ross,”

“I suppose I did,” he responded, absent-mindedly picking at his fingers, “I did miss you, you know,”

“Is that why I didn’t hear from you at all for the first three months and then hardly after the two days you were in town?” Her eyes reflected the sadness that was mirrored in his.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to reach out,”

“But I tried reaching out to you, and was met with radio silence! You can say you missed me all you want, Ross, but those are those words. You did not put in the effort to keep in touch with me and just that alone shows me more than you will ever be able to say,”

She stared at him with a fixed gaze. He stared back, each word she said had felt like a stab in his chest. He knew she was right, in a sense, but could not find the words to fix the animosity that had fallen in between them.

Their coffees had begun to get cold, and she was the first to avert her gaze from his as her phone vibrated on the table. Turning it over so the screen didn’t light up, she looked back up at him. Her eyes slightly softened,

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your-

“Did you expect me to just be okay with you coming back into my life?”

“No, I-” he started,

“That I would just put my life on pause for you at any given moment? What happened three months ago in Glasgow was a lapse in judgement on my part, and yes, it was fun, but it was not what I had intended when George invited me to the show.”

“It’s not what I intended either, I don’t know what-”

She cut him off again, “Oh fuck off with that bullshit. You’re telling me you didn’t intend for my legs to open for you when you showed up at my door with two bottles of wine and flowers?” Her voice had lowered to a whisper, not wanting to alert any of the other customers to their conversation.

She paused, her eyes glistening with tears, “You are the only person who knows me inside and out, Ross, and I know you too. So you cannot tell me you showed up that night after the second show with my favourite wine to only watch whatever program was on that night. I’m not that stupid.”

“I have never ever thought that you were stupid” Ross’s eyes stared into hers, and he clenched his fists together, “And it pains me that you would think that I only see you as a way to get a quick fuck and then leave.”

“How else am I supposed to see myself in your eyes when you only reach out to me when it is convenient for you. I am not at your beck and call Ross, and I am certainly not something you can dispose of once you’ve used,”

“I need you to stop talking so negatively about yourself, please. You have to believe me when I say that none of this was ever my intention, and I never want to hurt you. I love you.” Ross’s eyes were now starting to well up with tears, but he blinked them away when he saw that hers were beginning to stain her cheeks.

“I love you too, Ross. But I think that’s why it's so hard for me. You are all consuming, and it’s ruining my life,” she grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently, “I think I need to let you go,”

“What do you mean? I’m back home for at least a few months now, we can make this work!” He was pleading, and his eyes showed nothing but desperation.

“I don’t know if I want to make it work, I don’t know if my heart can take it.”

“So what? We’re just going to go our separate ways now? Forever?” Ross felt his voice crack at the word as his eyes welled up once more.

“For now, yeah. I think we both just need a lot of space to think about this Ross, think about what we really want.”

She wiped away the tears that had fallen and took her hand out of his, standing up and grabbing her coat off the back of the chair. He followed suit, and the two walked out of the coffee shop so they were standing beside her car. She opened her mouth to say something else when she felt him wrap his arms around her, enveloping her in the tightest hug she had ever received.

She buried her head into his chest as the tears fell down her face once more, and felt him kiss the top of her head. The two embraced for what felt like eternity, when it was only a matter of minutes before he pulled away.

“I do love you, you know,” he said with a sad smile, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed.”

“I don’t want you to blame yourself, it’s the lifestyle you signed up for, it’s just not what I can cope with anymore. You really are one of the best men I have ever met,” she responded, “And I love you too, Ross.”

She turned away from him as more tears started to fall, and she got into her car. The engine turned on and she drove out of the parking lot without giving him a last glance. This would always be a losing battle they would face, so they both needed to be strong and let the other go, because in doing so, they could find themselves.

The carousel never stops turning, so sometimes one of the best things you can do is get off.

We've done this before

And I don't need it anymore

So let's not do coffee, let's not even try

It's better we leave it and give it some time

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

'Cause If we do coffee, it's never just coffee

It's never just coffee

A/N: that marks the end of my first fanfic!! please reblog and let me know what you think! <3<3 also shoutout to @mads198-9 for being my beta reader, ily loser💕💕💕💕

#first fic #ross macdonald #the 1975 #ross macdonald fanfiction #angst #sad fic #coffee Chappell roan #chappell roan #x reader #ross macdonald x reader #female y/n #matty healy #george daniel #polly money #adam hann #self insert fic #fanfic #let me know what you think #Spotify

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