#answering in the middle of the night oops

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Bro your human pizzahead design is so good??? Like him also being an old man like Peppino makes more sense in my head? Idk but It's great! probably my new favorite human PH tbh

HEY THANKS 💖 obv human designs are whatever u want them to be but i like the fact that hes like silly guy w an old timey pipe for some reason? And a theme song sampling a very old timey song? I think its neat! Also i promised myself that if i was compelled to make a human design of a character a White Man, it could not be a 18-24 yr old blond hair blue eyed twink jffbjfbdkdndkdn so older greying silly businessman is what i was left with 😊

[scorchedcandy]

TES Secret Santa 2023 Begins!

Thank you all for joining! I just sent out all of the information to all of you Secret Santas out there.

Reminder that your rolling deadline is December 25th - January 1st!

When you post your gift, be sure to tag #TESSecretSanta2023 so I can reblog it! If the deadline is approaching and you can't meet it on time or at all, make sure you let me know as soon as possible so I can make your recipient aware and/or assign a backup Secret Santa!

Have fun and don't overwork yourselves! As always, feel free to drop an ask with any questions, comments, concerns, or fun facts!

Note: if you haven't received yours, I may have been nerfed for DMing too many people haha I'm gonna figure it out ig

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

ancient dwarven murals depicting elves?? 👀👀

[sincerelybubbles]

i've noticed you

pairing: spencer reid x profiler!reader

warnings: fluff, not proof read (as is the usual oops), slightly slightly suggestive

word count: 2.6k

it's a late night in the office. dim light casts shadows across the bull pen. you squint your tired eyes to focus them on the document in your hand. hours have passed since everyone else went home but you stayed behind. something about pushing into the early hours of the weekend to finish off a long week is better for your mental health than leaving the documents for monday. the totality of closing the folder, marking it complete, and filing it away allows you to push the details of your cases to the back of your mind. you can't forget them entirely, of course, and nightmares still haunt you, but this is the best system you've found to make yourself feel better, even if only marginally.

a call of your name, soft and familiar, startles you. you jump, chair pushing back a few inches. you look up to see spencer standing in the doorway, giving you a confused look. his bag is strapped across his chest, hands clutching it, eyebrows raised. he's dressed more casually than you're used to: a plain blue shirt, khaki pants, his usual dress shoes. his hair is messy and his eyes look sleepy behind the confusion, like he'd only just woken up.

"hey, reid," you say, catching a yawn in the middle of saying his name. "you scared me."

"i could say the same to you. what are you doing here at," he checks his watch, flicking his wrist to right it in a movement that has your chest tightening. "3:46 in the morning on a saturday?"

"i could say the same to you," you mimic him, sending him a wide smile. you lift up your documents when he sends you an unamused look, waving the folder. "just finishing up before the weekend."

"you have over two weeks to have those reports filed, though?"

"helps me sleep better to have them done, i guess. you never answered me, though -- why are you here?"

"ironically, to help myself sleep," spencer answers, crossing the room in swift, long strides to reach his desk behind yours. he deposits his bag and turns to you, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. "i get nightmares and sometimes the best thing to do is try to get some work done. helps my conscious, i guess. or, at least keeps me busy."

you nod and watch him make his way to the kitchen. "that makes sense."

"i'll be back," he calls to you over his shoulder.

you hear his return a few minutes later, eyes trained on your file again. you don't look up this time, now that you know who it is. you're too focused on finishing these last few documents and fully aware that it's sort of hard to stop looking at spencer once you start.

the gentle click of a mug hitting your desk grabs your attention, though, and you tear your eyes from the page to look up.

spencer is leaning across your desk, nudging a yellow mug toward you, smiling widely. your throat tightens, a quick flash of pleasant awareness of him, and you swallow it away.

"what's this?" you ask, reaching for the mug. he doesn't let go as you expected and your fingers brush against each other. he shrugs instead of answering, leaning back against the desk next to yours and taking a sip from his own mug.

"coffee."

you take a sip, surprised to find it made exactly how you like. you can't remember ever telling him what you like and your cheeks heat at the gesture. you're grateful that the only lamp on is yours, hiding the heat from him.

"how'd you know how i like it?" you ask, taking a sip.

"i pay attention," he says, eyes trained on yours.

"to people's coffee preferences?"

"to yours, sure."

before you can properly allow that to sink into your exhausted mind, spencer sets his mug on your desk before grabbing his own files. "mind if i join you?" he asks, dragging the nearest chair over. "at least until you go home for the night."

"yeah, sure, i could use the company," you say, clearing space for him.

||||

5:53 AM

you: [attached image]

you: i promise i'm on the way, just having the worst morning. once i get this tire fixed, i'll let you know

you sigh, throwing your phone in your bag and squatting down to examine your blown tire. you don't know what you hit but you do know it's the start to an already sour morning.

you slept with your window propped open, despite how many times you've seen that go poorly for victims, and it rained, drenching your curtains. you didn't get to pack a lunch after dealing with that and usually, you eat breakfast at the office, so now you're on the side of the wet road, blown tire, and late for the first time in years.

your phone buzzes twice and you stand to dig it out of your bag.

5:55 AM

morgan: bad morning, pretty girl?

hotchner: don't worry about it, stay safe.

you roll your eyes at morgan, chest feeling lighter at hotch's reply. you hadn't expected him to be angry, this wasn't something anyone could foresee, but his answer still lessens the anxiety in your chest.

you climb into your car, turning on the heat and holding your hands to the vent for a few moments. you sit there for a few minutes past when you've thawed, dreading reentering the wet morning to change the tire.

the sound of a car door opening and shutting grabs your attention and you look in the rearview to see spencer walking toward you, hitting the button to lock one of the company vans. he's holding a bag in his hands, walking briskly to avoid getting too wet in the morning mist.

you throw open the passenger door when he gets close enough and watch as he folds himself in the car, shutting the door and adjusting his jacket.

"hello," you say, amused, "fancy seeing you here. did hotch send you?"

"i volunteered, here." he hands you the bag. you look at him for a moment longer, watching as he fixes his hair. you return your focus to the bag when he looks over at you, embarrassed to be caught.

you find one of the kitchen muffins and a banana in the bag. you stare at it for a moment, fully aware that this is exactly what you eat most mornings at work.

"i know you usually eat at work and didn't know if you had anything here," spencer explains.

"you noticed that?"

"i noticed you," he says. your eyes snap up to meet his, heart fluttering in your chest. he doesn't look embarrassed, eyes meeting yours steadily.

you struggle to find words, heart beyond touched by the gesture. you end up muttering, "thank you, spencer."

"you're welcome." there's a moment's pause while you come to terms with the fact that this can no longer be considered one of your worst mornings. "also, there was betting about if you could change a tire."

"ah, so you're here because you didn't believe in me?"

"well," he says, cheeky, smiling over at you. "you are just sitting in your car, decidedly not changing your tire."

"i was working myself up to it!" you say in defense. it's insane to you how quickly he has shifted your mood in just a few minutes.

he shakes his head at you, smiling slightly, and pops his door open, "open the back," he says, stepping out.

you do as he says, opening the trunk and getting out after him.

"i really was going to do it, you don't have to," you say, following him around the back of the car and watching him shift the things around to find your spare tire.

"i got it. go sit in the car, it's cold." he rolls his sleeves up, sending you a look.

you watch his hands as he moves the fabric up, exposing his forearms. you swallow, mouth dry, as he moves to the other arm, wrists flexing and bringing his veins into focus.

"i'm not sitting in my car while you do all the work," you refute, voice wavering, tearing your eyes away from his hands. you feel like a silly schoolgirl, ogling at her crush. or, better yet, like a scandalized victorian man seeing a hint of ankle for the first time, entranced by the barest hint of innocent skin. still, under the heat of embarrassment, you can't stop yourself from shifting your weight from foot to foot watching him lift the tire from your trunk.

"why not?" he asks, carrying the donut under one arm and walking over to the flat tire. you watch him, entranced, as he crouches down to examine the flat.

"it feels wrong! really, spence," you say, walking over to him and leaning down to catch his forearm and get his attention. "you don't have to change it for me, i'm more than capable."

"i know," he says, turning to look up at you from under his lashes. he smiles, still just a hint at the corner of his lips, and nods toward the car. "still, go sit, it's cold."

"spence-" you start and he rolls his eyes, standing up so he can look down at you and crossing his arms.

he says your name lowly, leaning back against the car and raising an eyebrow. "get in the car, this will only take me a minute."

he doesn't wait for your answer, pushing himself off of the car and walking to the trunk to grab the tool kit. stunned and slightly turned on, you slowly walk back to the drivers side of the car.

"good, now eat, too," he calls.

you grab the bag of food when you sit down, letting your legs hang down outside of the car. he stands up straighter to see you over the hood of the car and grins at you, "thank you."

||||

hands sweating and heart racing, you press the button on the elevator and watch the door close. you clutch the little bag between two of your hands, rolling your head back to stretch it and stare at the ceiling.

you're a profiler, you know people, you know that your ever-growing crush on spencer is reciprocated. his face as he said "i noticed you" is the last thing you see before you sleep and you know you aren't misinterpreting the signs. still, anxiety pools when the elevator dings and you step off.

you roll out your shoulders and step into the bull pen with confidence you have to fake, putting a smile on your face and holding the little bag behind your back slightly.

"morning angel," penelope calls to you, swinging around the corner and linking her arm with yours. "did you have any fun hot dates this weekend? please say yes, i am in desperate need of someone to live vicariously through -- my love life is dry in all definitions of the word."

"sorry love," you say, patting her arm and sending her a sympathetic look. "still working on that plan i mentioned a few weeks ago."

"wait," she says, suddenly stopping and forcing you to as well. "really? because you were all gung-ho about maintaining a sense of workplace appropriate behavior and all of that other blah hr speak."

"well," you say with a shrug, smiling at the ground, "i don't know, can't a girl change her mind?"

"she most certainly can. in fact, i have right now!" you look up at her suddenly ultra cheerful voice and see spencer walking into the room, hands in his pockets and heading right for you with a smile as a greeting. "i have decided that i'm not walking you to your desk and we'll chat over lunch instead. bye!"

just as quickly as she arrived, penelope left, scampering away to her office with a grin stretching across her face. she's your best friend, the one person you tell everything, and also the source of your greatest annoyance, leaving you alone in the hallway.

"what was that about?" spencer asks, reaching you and stopping only half a step away.

"just garcia being garcia," you say, shrugging.

"well, goodmorning," spencer says, tucking his chin down to look at you better. "have a good weekend?"

"i did," you say, swallowing in a deep breath to steel your nerves. "i actually managed to go to that bookstore you told me about."

"oh really?" spencer asks, excitement animating his face. "did you talk to the store owner? she's super cool, i actually learned a lot from her about book binding last time i visited. she has a little workshop in the back."

"i did, actually. i had to get her help finding a specific book," you say, holding the bag out to him.

"oh, which one?"

"open it and see."

"it's for me?" spencer asks, looking genuinely caught off-guard. he takes the bag slowly, as if expecting you to rip it away. you nod encouragingly and he takes the cue to lift the paper out of the bag and then the book. "wait, no way. this is so cool! i've been searching for it for ages."

you watch as he opens the book and his eyes widen finding it signed. he slowly, reverently, flips the pages to look at the publication date and his eyes flick to meet yours.

"this is a first edition?"

"yeah."

"this is- how did you know?"

"i noticed you, too," you say, voice soft and hesitant. you take the half step forward so your toes are touching. surprisingly, your anxiety is nowhere to be found as you look up at him, smiling, chest warm and fingertips tingling. "i hope that's okay."

"beyond, actually," spencer answers, voice softer. the hand holding the bag and book falls, his other one lifting to your cheek, hesitant. he brushes his fingers across your cheekbone gently before moving his hand to cup the back of your neck and bringing you in for a hug. .

it's exactly how you expected hugging spencer to be, warm and all-consuming. he laughs, gentle, a vibration you can feel through his chest and into yours.

"what?" you ask, face buried in his chest.

"it's amazing how hard i'm fighting to not kiss you right now. i always thought i would be too nervous - i mean, obviously, i've kissed people before. not that that's what i should be talking about right now, but, i just mean, it's different with you. you make me happy in a way that makes me nervous, you know?"

"i know," you say, softly, cutting off his rambling with a hidden smile. he's still holding you in the empty hallway and you would love nothing more than to hear his rambling but you're also very aware that someone could walk in any moment.

you just hope that whatever this is leads to more of his thoughtless rambles - you've missed them, noticed how he's held himself back more, and you think nothing will make you happier than being the person he turns to with them.

"yeah. um, thank you. but now i'm not nervous, i'm just annoyed we're at work."

you laugh, pushing away from him, fixing his tie. "we have plenty of time, it's okay."

he doesn't say anything, his hand still on the back of your neck. instead, he slowly leans down to press his lips to your forehead. it's gentle, as if he's afraid the wrong move will break you or send you running, and you melt from it.

"plenty."

part two of it's a date will come soon!! i hope!!!! please take this as a peace offering <3 i got the idea of spencer changing a tire on my head and could NOT LET IT GO !!!! like i'm ngl, i made myself blush w this so i hope u all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

also also!! i usually like to keep my notes short but this is a reminder that my asks/inbox are always open!! and i read every reblog and comment and smile and giggle like a little kid when i see them. you all make my day every day and ily u all

[kazumist]

WHY DON'T WE FALL IN LOVE TONIGHT ?

✩ — in which you found yourself executing a ruse with the known duke of meropide, wriothesley. what could possibly go wrong? (many things, apparently.)

✩ — prompt: panache — you agree to a fake courtship with another. (for @xianyoon's "a night to remember" event (event two hehehe))

✩ — includes: wriothesley x f!reader. royalty!au. fluff, angst if you squint, hurt/comfort if you also squint, comedy squeezed in just a teensy bit. cw: alcohol consumption (reader ends up taking a shot or two) one crazy scene in the garden but it's nothing too explicit i swear they just get a little carried away OOPS. wc: 8001 yes you read that fucking right (i went insane). fake dating trope went a bit overboard my bad (heavily based by bridgerton season 1 minus the explicit scenes LMAO). one pride and prejudice and meme reference line sneaked in (if u get my reference then ilysm i need to kiss u). other fontaine characters make a cameo yipee!! full fic of this silly post i made back then but i changed things up. kinda

✩ — please reblog !! it wld help me tons :,)

love at first sight was a frivolous belief for a man like wriothesley.

romance, in general, was a frivolous belief for him in the first place. as much as his father pushes him into the marriage market for all of the women in the kingdom of fontaine, he would always find his way out of it. but he does admit—the nagging could get quite... overbearing sometimes. romance almost never crosses wriothesley’s mind. he shuns every vigorous mother that presents their daughter towards him in hopes that he’ll take an interest in them (which he never does; wriothesley believes that marriage is too big of a responsibility for him).

a ball is never uncommon in society at this age. and certainly it isn’t uncommon for his father to urge him to grace these balls with his presence on behalf of his former duke of a father. and tonight wasn’t so different from the other balls he previously attended. wriothesley holds back the urge to roll his eyes after he excuses himself (for the nth time, he thinks) from another mother who tried to offer her daughter up for his hand in marriage. it was exhausting, to say the least. wriothesley wants nothing more than to leave at the moment. however, to his dismay, the ball had just begun not too long ago.

it’s another long night for him.

sharing some conversations with queen furina’s royal advisor, neuvillette, wasn’t a bad way to pass the time. and it certainly was effective because people were far too nervous to approach him with the queen nearby. the friendship he shared with the royal advisor wasn’t new knowledge to society. almost everyone and their mothers had heard about the tale of the current duke meropide and the queen’s royal advisor being close friends during their early days of childhood and onwards. though wriothesley sometimes admits—he surely misses his youthful days.

it’s not like he's that old now. he’s currently thriving at the young age of twenty-five! not too young, not too old either. “and just how long are you going to stand by my side tonight, wriothesley?” neuvillette asks, his eyes focused on the crowd below him. there were pairs dancing gracefully in the middle of the venue as the quintet orchestra played by the side. wriothesley doesn’t glance at him as he answers. “just a bit longer, i suppose. i could still feel their eyes boring holes into me.” he mumbles the last part, leaning closer only for neuvillette to hear, as he refers to the mothers that attempted to make their advances on him earlier. neuvillette simply chuckles at his remark.

“still refusing marriage, i see?” he replies. 

“i’m confident that you’re well aware of what my answer to that is going to be, neuvillette.”

wriothesley feels comfortable like this. but he’s aware that he couldn’t spend all of his time by his friend’s side. soon after, wriothesley decides to take his leave after making sure his coast is clear. he then exited nearby and found himself wandering into the garden. surely, the workers at the house of hearth had done a splendid job maintaining this garden. he reminds himself to commend duke arlecchino for this if he ever gets the chance.

the wind tonight was quite cold, yet it’s nothing wriothesley couldn’t handle. he stumbles upon what seemed to be the center of the garden, surprised to see a fountain there. the moonlight shines brightly in this area—but what actually made wriothesley curious was who was sitting by the fountain? he steadily approaches, careful not to make the wrong move and sits by the fountain as well. there was still some distance between the two of you—a lot of it. it would be indecent of him to burst into a woman’s personal space. his father did not raise him to be that sort of man.

“what brings you here tonight?” he suddenly finds himself asking. it was a poor attempt at small talk, he thinks (he could do much better than that, he swears). wriothesley doesn’t even dare steal a glance at you, as much as he wanted to. you hesitated before answering him, still sinking in the fact that you suddenly have company in this garden now. “avoiding society as usual, especially the members of society who cannot give up offering their hand of marriage towards me, i suppose,” he hears you sigh. huh, how ironic. did wriothesley just bump into someone who suffers from the same problem as him? 

the answer was most definitely yes.

“oh, what a coincidence—i suffer from such a predicament as well.” he chuckles bitterly in reply—too bitter for his liking. he didn’t want to suddenly ruin the mood now; the conversation had barely even started. “is that so? i’m delighted to know that i’m not alone in this boat then.” the tone of your chuckle was different from the chuckle you got from wriothesley. a comfortable silence was then enveloped over the both of you, enjoying the scenery around. he takes this as his chance to steal a glance, and he quickly takes it back. yet he finds himself glancing again.

and again

and again. 

he doesn’t quite understand it himself. however, there was something about you that had this alluring effect on him of some sort. he just couldn’t tear his eyes off of you for some reason. “enjoying the view much, duke?” you asked, meeting his gaze. wriothesley then turns away suddenly, embarrassed that he was caught red handed in the act of practically ogling at you. his father did not raise him to be like this at all. he did not spend his childhood and teenage years training how to be a proper gentleman for his debut in society just to be ogling at a lady he just met at a ball. he needs to snap out of it.

“my apologies, but how could i resist putting my attention on a stunning lady like you?” he tries to play it cool. (keyword: tries.) it was a strategy that he learned to adapt every since he made his debut into society. playing it cool always works for him—surely his old trick wouldn’t fail at him now of all times, right? but wriothesley soon snapped out of his thoughts, and he then asked another question. “wait, you know who i am?” 

you were taken aback by his words. is he seriously asking you that? “who wouldn’t know you? you’re quite famous with the other ladies.” you asked him back. he simply replies with a short “fair point.” and silence takes over once again. but this time, it was a bit awkward. you decided to introduce yourself to him, stating your name and title. he nods in acknowledgement of your introduction. he has heard of you before, of course. your family has quite a reputation in society, making you get quite a bit of attention at formal parties as well. 

wriothesley doesn’t dare steal a glance at you again, as he has seemed to learn his lesson from what happened earlier. you, on the other hand, took this as your chance to take your leave. “although your company has been quite interesting, duke meropide, i’m afraid that i must take my leave first. i seem to have forgotten that i excused myself from lord jackson earlier.” you got up from your seat, already walking away from the fountain—that is, until wriothesley speaks.

“lord jackson? you mean the lord jackson who’s known for his… awful history in relationships?”

“i don’t believe there’s any other lord jackson in this society, duke meropide.” you turn around to face him.

“what business do you have with him?” why am i even asking? he thinks.

“he’s simply another one of the men who my mother had decided to set me up with for marriage. i was told to accompany him for tonight but you see, his company isn’t really... the best.” you replied, choosing your word carefully. despite you not liking lord jackson at all, it would be informal for you to speak ill of him when he could be the man you’ll actually marry.

actually, scratch that. as if you’ll ever allow yourself to marry a man like him. lord jackson was a creep, to say the least. you were aware of the talk that goes around him. but your dear mother is still kept in the dark about these stories, and she decided to set you up with him without your prior knowledge. so by technicality, you really had no choice. “you can’t marry him.” the man in front of you suddenly says.

“i beg your pardon?” you asked, afraid that you misheard him the first time. “you... you can’t marry him.” he repeats and then he continues. “i mean, surely you have heard the news about him—his temper makes him vicious. your marriage with him wouldn’t prosper at all.” you held back the urge to scoff at him. “i appreciate your concern, my duke, but our society works in an unfair way at this age. i cannot just declare that i do not wish to marry, unlike you. that is a privilege that i cannot simply afford.” you shot back at him.

wriothesley suddenly feels like a light bulb in his head has switched on.

“we could pretend to form an attachment.” he then says. you were getting more baffled by the second this conversation held on longer. “whatever do you mean?” you weren’t stupid. but you refused to believe that what he’s hinting at is also the one you foolishly thought. “with you in my arm, people would think that i have finally found my duchess. as for you, your mother would raise her standards and find more suitable candidates for your hand in marriage. because although i could be wrong, but have you ever told your mother what traits you find in a man?” he replies, a small smile slowly tugging on his lips. he clearly enjoys this idea.

“i… i suppose not.” he got you there. “but this is an absurd idea.” you protested.

“i find it quite brilliant, if i do say so myself.”

“you do know the risks of what you’re proposing right now, am i correct?”

“i do. but you do not wish to marry me, and i do not wish to marry you, so whatever should you have to lose?” he’s insisting. he’s insisting like this plan would work perfectly fine for the both of your benefits (well, if you were to be completely honest, there is a chance for it to be successful. but you grew up to believe that you shouldn’t expect for things to go so smoothly in your life). “i…” a lost of words. that’s what you are. too many possibilities are running through your head at the moment.

however, the duke did have one hell of a good point.

“fine. you got yourself a deal.”

and that’s how you got roped into the situation you have now. with an arm interlocked with the duke meropide’s, all eyes were bound to set upon you both. wriothesley could see the amusement in neuvillette’s expression; the same goes for the hint of amusement in queen furina’s eyes as she spots them in the crowd. wriothesley slowly guides you towards the dance floor, just in time for another dance to begin. gracefully, you took his hand as you step onto the dance floor with him. a familiar song started to play, one that you remember memorizing as dance class was mandatory for being a debutante in society.

“are you bothered?” he then asks in a whisper as he twirls you around. “whatever for?” you ask him back. “the staring. i could feel all of them looking at us right now, honestly,” he chuckles lowly. “hm, i’m trying not to mind it that much. but i suppose you’re probably enjoying all of this attention now, aren’t you?” a simple tease on your part, and wriothesley smiled at that. “my, are we on casual terms now?” 

“chemistry should be a major factor that we should have in this plan, yes? so we might as well start by being more casual with one another.”

“indeed. glad to know that you’re quick to pick up on things.” he says. “of course i am. what do you take me for, duke meropide?” you asked him, a slight pout forming on your lips. and wriothesley smiled at that again before replying. “nothing offensive, that i can assure you.”

“i’m delighted to know that the ever-so-famous duke of meropide doesn’t harbor any sour feelings towards me then.” 

it was a bit suffocating, all of the staring. yet at the same time, you understood why they’re staring in the first place. wriothesley, the current duke of meropide, is suddenly on the dance floor with a young woman. and he seems to be quite interested in her as well. people would assume you’re the reason why the duke has rejected so many marriage offers up until now—because he already had you in the first place.

the other unwanted attention you’d get from that assumption alone was enough to make you distracted to the point where you almost stepped on wriothesley’s foot. “i—my apologies, duke.” you stammered. “it’s alright. just look at me,” he says. you scrunched your eyebrows at him in confusion. “pardon?”

“just look at me; don’t focus on anyone else. it will help ease your mind.”

with hesitance, you followed what he said and locked your eyes with his. the duke’s eyes were a fine shade of grey. a unique color, if you do say so yourself. and surely he was correct. shifting your focus and thoughts to him did ease you from all of the other eyes that are locked onto both of your figures that’s moving along with the music.

time felt like it had stopped, as it also felt like you were the only ones present in the room.

to wriothesley’s surprise, the night passed by faster when he was with you. because before he knew it, he was already accompanying you back to your carriage. a lot of things had happened in the span of just a few hours. but wriothesley does not regret a single second of it, now that he recalls everything again. he wonders why—was it because he encountered you in the garden tonight?

maybe. that’s where it all started anyway.

he quickly snapped out of his trail of thoughts as he heard you speak. “i suppose i’ll see you soon then?” you asked him. “mhm, i suppose so. safe travels, m’lady.” he bids you his farewell by gently grabbing ahold of your hand and pressing a soft kiss onto your knuckle, refusing to break his eye contact with you as the footman closed your carriage’s door.

“safe travels as well, my duke.”

— — — — — — — — 

word spread fast about you and the duke of meropide. your mother was shocked at the news—yet happy that you finally became “independent on finding your match” as per her words. you had no specific agenda for the day, so, as you usually do whenever you are free, you decided to visit the modiste—where your good friend chiori resides. 

the sound of the bell chiming as the door opened made chiori perk up to see who would possibly need help making a new dress. but when her eyes met yours, she just knew you weren’t here to ask for a new dress. “i heard about the commotion last night.” she says, setting down a cup of tea for you as she takes a sip from her own cup, waiting for your response. “commotion is a vulgar term for it, chiori. i prefer to call it a memorable event.”

“i suppose it’s memorable for you to enter with your arm wrapped around the duke meropide just like that. how did it even happen? i vividly recall you telling me that you had no intention of marriage.”

“it’s… a long story,” you sighed, taking a sip from your own cup of tea. “oh? are you implying that there’s more to this than meets the eye, then?”

“i guess you could say that.”

“well, then tell me all about it.”

“i… i can't. my apologies, chiori.” it's not like you didn't trust her. in fact, there are more secrets that are held within this fine modiste’s place than one could ever imagine. but it was a silent and automatic agreement between you and the duke that no one must know of your plan. (although you already hinted to chiori that there's more to it than meets the eye.) besides, chiori is a smart woman who has known you before she could even have her place built.

she doesn't need to be a genius to find out that there's something up. she'll pick up on it sooner or later.

“it's alright. there’s no need to feel pressure to tell me now, but do promise me one thing: you're not doing anything against the law, right?”

you couldn't help but burst out in laughter at her question. “chiori! do you take me as a criminal? of course, i’m not!” you replied, laughing in a fit of giggles in between your words. “thank goodness. well, how was i supposed to know? you almost never stop by so we rarely have the chance to catch up. every bit of news i hear from you is usually from the other ladies who sometimes talk about you.”

“don’t worry, my friend. i’ll stop by more often from now on, but seriously, are you still eavesdropping on your customers? i thought we were past that.”

“it isn't my fault some of them whisper way too loudly for my liking,” chiori scoffs.

as you two have a few more conversations, it is about time for you to take your leave, as the time has reached for the hour when chiori would usually have customers. “it was truly a pleasure to catch up with you, chiori.” you said as she escorted you to the door. “a pleasure indeed. do drop by more often, alright? it can get quite lonely here, you know.” a giggle leaves your lips at her response. “will do. i believe i might need a new dress soon for the upcoming firestone ball?” you say and you notice how chiori’s had some sort of sparkle at your mention of needing a new dress. she had always loved making dresses for you.

“is that so? i promise to suggest some designs that you might like once you return.”

— — — — — — — — 

the fountain of lucine was a famous spot for a walk in the park type of day. every day, you’d see different individuals make their wish upon the fountain. whether that is a prosperous marriage, being blessed with a beloved child, or even gaining wealth, everyone wishes for all sorts of desires towards the fountain. but you never found yourself doing the same. it’s most probably because you've already been content with your life up until now. you never had any struggles when it came to growing up.

but again, that is up until now. 

you took a step further towards the fountain, silently stating your wish and threw the coin into the fountain’s small pool of water. “penny for your wish?” you heard someone say beside you. quickly turning your head to the direction of the voice, you were surprised to see the duke there. “duke meropide! i—i didn’t expect that you were going to be here today.”

“i decided to go out for a stroll; the weather is quite nice today, is it not?” 

“ah, yes, i suppose it is,” you replied, looking around. the weather was indeed nice today. perfect for a quick stroll around the area. “would you mind taking a stroll with me today? it would be a shame to waste this fine weather talking in the same spot.” he says, offering his arm for you to take. “i’d be delighted to.” your arm gets hooked on his.

“how are you faring lately? it has been quite a while since our last meeting,” wriothesley starts. he personally prefers his attempt at small talk today to his attempt at small talk the night he met you. it has been a few days since the ball held by the house of hearth. and within those few days, you haven’t spoken to the duke since. though, your house suddenly has suitors calling for you during your calling hour. all hopeful to gain your interest in them instead of the duke.

(however, you all shut them down politely. you found yourself repeating your apologies to the lords that have called upon you during those times.)

“i’ve been well. certainly, the stunt that we pulled during the ball held in the house of hearth did not go unnoticed. my social energy has been drained because of the suitors who called me.” a sigh leaves your lips. “oh? i apologize for that then. i hope that your social energy isn't at it’s lowest right now,” he chuckles. you gave him a playful glare at his remark. “are you making fun of my previous predicament, duke?” 

“oh, heavens no. my apologies, did that offend you?” he says, holding back a smile at his words. he was definitely not apologetic. “you’re not that sorry for it, aren’t you?”

“perchance.”

“you cannot just say perchance!”

a laugh erupts from wriothesley at your response. it was the first time you heard him laugh like that. and in the public eye, you two would seem like a joyful couple spending some quality time walking around the fountain of lucine as a pastime. well, that was technically the goal. to show the public that you and the duke of meropide are madly in love with one another. what could possibly go wrong?

— — — — — — — — 

by the time the firestone ball had taken place (which is nearly just a week after the ball from the house of hearth), you and the duke were on the dance floor once again.

“i believe we have yet to discuss our other terms and agreement for our plan, your grace.” you said, following his lead in the waltz. “ah, you’re right. well then, why don’t you start? ladies first.” he says. “i was hoping that you’d have some ideas on what terms we should have; after all, this was your idea, if i may remind you.”

you continue speaking as wriothesley continues to lead you through the dance. “i am starting to be convinced that this will be more than just a simple game of pretend just so we could fool the members of society, or my mother, or the women you have wanted to get away from every time you step foot in public. a life is at stake here, your grace, my life, and i just simply cannot have this go wrong. so if you are not in agreement with that, then you should tell me now.” the duke never broke his eye contact with you as you spoke.

“i shall agree… on one condition.”

“your grace, i believe that you do not understa—”

“you must call me wriothesley.” 

there’s only one word to describe you at the moment: speechless. and wriothesley takes your silence as a chance to continue his words. “if we are truly to be courting, and if we are truly to prove that this is a match like no other, then you should call me by my name. after all, weren’t you the one who suggested that we should be more... casual with one another?”

he was right, and he had yet again another one hell of a good point. you mentally sighed, “very well then… wriothesley.” a laugh dares to escape your throat but this does not go unnoticed by the man who has his hand held in his at the moment. “is there something funny about my name?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow at your reaction. “no, no. it is a perfectly fine name. it is also quite unique, if i may add.” you replied, calming yourself down. laughing loudly while you’re in the middle of the dance floor would raise questions, after all.

“oh, perfectly fine? very well then… (name).” wriothesley’s voice seemed to have lowered itself an octave lower as he said your name with a slight rasp. your eyes looked away from his as you shifted your gaze to his collar instead. both of you went silent, yet you were still moving to the rhythm of the music.

wriothesley’s hand, that was supposedly at your waist, trailed upwards. just below the nape of your neck and also before your spine starts. your breath hitched at the contact of his cold finger tips there.

“i do hope that this plan will be successful.” you said, gaining your composure.

“have faith in us.”

— — — — — — — — 

meetings with the duke of meropide became more frequent than you expected. whether that may be a coincidental meeting or a planned one—no one could really pinpoint it, much to their dismay. 

it started off with a simple meal. then another walk. then an official invitation to accompany him to a ball or two. or three; in fact, he has invited you for a lot of them now. you haven’t thought much about the future as of late, always focusing on the present, where you’re definitely by wriothesley’s side. there was never a dull moment with the man. it was always entertaining to be with him. whenever another man (a man whose appeal is not to take interest in a sense) would approach you, wriothesley would pull some sort of stunt that’s connected to his “wild jealousy” of some sort. it’s a bit hard to hold back a laugh whenever this happens. there are times when he would talk to you about the other nobles present in the party and how he’s acquainted with them, and you’d admire the fact that he has many connections (something that a duke like him should have; he’s doing well in his duties, you’d note).

there are also times when you two will find yourselves alone, secluding yourselves from the crowd. these were, personally, your favorites. with the moonlight shining brightly upon you both once again, you’d always be reminded of the night you met. at these moments, this is when you and the duke would share… more personal things with one another. things that neither of you had expected to share with anyone else. like how he avoids marriage because of the huge responsibility that comes with it. or like how you doubt that others, especially men (minus the duke), would understand your struggles as a woman in this society.

wriothesley might have a lot of connections, but he was just the same as you. both of you kept your circle quite small (and by small, you both have only one person you truly trust to confide in). but even if you both wouldn’t admit it out loud, trust had also bloomed between the two of you.

(yet is trust the only thing that has actually bloomed?)

tonight, you found yourselves in yet another garden. “have you ever heard of why a flower wilts, wriothesley?” you decided to start this time. “hm? i suppose it’s because nothing good actually lasts long in life.” 

“how… pessimistic of you to say.” you sweatdropped at his response. he chuckles yet again, you noticed that he always chuckles apologetically while looking away before he actually says his apologies. a habit of his, perhaps. “my apologies; i must repeat myself. the less a person sees of me, the happier their life is.”

“why so? i enjoy your company quite well.”

“oh? and are you sure those words aren’t forced because you’re stuck with me with this little ruse we have ongoing?” he asks back. these exchanges became frequent. one would ask a question, and the other would ask another in return. “i’m being quite honest, wriothesley. i really do enjoy your company quite well.”

“the feeling is likewise, (name).” there’s something satisfying about how your name rolls off of his tongue. he pronounces it the same as everyone else does yet how does it feel different when he says it? it’s baffling, that’s one thing for sure. “is it awful that i’m actually quite enjoying this?”

“you mean my wild jealousy?” he asks, playfully offended.

“fooling society.” you corrected. “there are some in the crowd who secretly know everything about everyone. yet we have them utterly convinced that we are mad for one another.”

“we are awfully clever then.” he says in amusement. “indeed we are.” you chuckled at his reply.

if there’s one thing you would always notice between the two of you, it would always be how you were glued to one another. like there’s some magnetic pull that automatically drags the other to their side. 

this moment is no different because you could feel his knuckles grazing against yours ever so lightly. it starts with the hook of your pinkies, then slowly turns into you grabbing a hold of his other fingers. wriothesley could feel his heart beating fast at the contact. he glances at you, admiring your features underneath the moonlight once again. you glance at him as well. was he already this close to you when you started walking in this garden? because you swear your faces are inching even closer to each other. wriothesley’s other hand gently grabs your nape, guiding you as he gently pulls you in for a kiss. 

his lips were soft against yours, something you didn’t expect from him. he kisses you like you were delicate (to which you were, delicate to him, at least), eyes closing themselves as he enjoys the sensation of your lips against his. you kiss him back in the same way, not really knowing what to do next—but you kiss him back. that’s all that matters. his lips leave yours as wriothesley latches his lips onto your neck, continuing the light kisses against it.

you let out a gasp at the contact as you lean your head back so you can give him more access. he intertwined his other hand with yours; it was quite scandalous. having a moment like this on someone else’s property. you extracted him from your neck, pulling him in for another kiss. this time it was a bit more rough—desperate, even.

well, that was until he pulled away from you abruptly. you looked at him in a daze yet you were confused. “we must return; we’ve been out long enough,” he says, letting go of your hand in the process as he fixes himself. he tries to catch his breath, processing what has just happened. did he really just kiss you? he supposes (or, in other terms, hopes) that it’s normal. ultimately, this should’ve been part of your agreement in the first place, right?

“i… you’re right. my mother could be looking for me any moment now.” what could possibly go wrong, you ask? well, apparently, many things could go wrong.

but if there’s one thing that got stitched into your mind tonight, it’s only one thing:

the duke of meropide is one good kisser.

however, what will become of your relationship now?

— — — — — — — — 

you found yourself going to chiori again. the familiar sound of the bell chiming against the door notified chiori of someone entering her place. and once she saw you, she could just feel the distress radiating off of your body.

“what happened this time? i haven’t heard any good news about you two from last night’s party.” she says, pouring you a cup of tea. “good news? more like insane occurrences,” you sighed, watching the tea leave the teapot as it transfers onto your teacup. “ insane occurrences? what happened to ‘memorable event’?” she asked, confused with your choice of words.

you let out another sigh, finally revealing everything to chiori. luckily, today was her day off. with another ball just held last night, she would get at least a day or two of good rest before she opens up again. chiori takes in every detail of your story well, surprised that this is what you’ve been up to.

as soon as you were done talking, you decided to take a sip of your tea. “so you’re worried that you almost slept with the duke of meropide?” chiori states. and you choked on your drink once you heard her. “you didn’t have to word it like that! have some decency!” you exclaimed, embarrassment surging through you. 

“i don’t get it, though. what are you so worried about? it’s almost as if… wait.” she pauses.

“it’s almost as if what, chiori?”

“do you love him?”

“huh? love who?”

“don’t play dumb with me, (name). do you or do you not love the duke of meropide?”

this time, it was your turn to pause. do you? well, certainly, he is nice company. and he treats you well despite neither of you having the wish to marry each other. he is also a good kisser (something that you don’t really feel like counting but it’s still a fact). recalling everything that has happened now, the only things that come into mind are the things you’ve noticed about wriothesley. how his eyes are the most remarkable shade of grey, his scar below his right eye. the feeling of the callouses on his hands as you held them on the dance floor.

it can’t be. there’s just no way. he’s a duke of all people—he’s out of your league in so many ways. he’s too far for you to reach. and besides, this is all just a game of pretend, is it not? surely that kiss would’ve meant nothing to him. 

fuck.

“i do.” you replied to her in a whisper

“i’m glad that you’re not dense.” chiori says, flicking your forehead. you yelped in pain at the contact. 

yes, you do love the duke of meropide.

and you stand by that.

meanwhile, on the other side of the coin, wriothesley had a crisis himself. “you’re quite lucky today, to ask for my presence while queen furina is occupied with duke arlecchino with her. so what assistance can i offer for you today, wriothesley?” neuvillette states, pulling his chair so he could take a seat before the man in front of him. wriothesley leans back on his seat, an elbow propped on top of the chair’s arm rest as his index finger is rested upon his lips. 

wriothesley sighs. before spilling everything to neuvillette. his friend’s expression grew more amused as he continued on with the story, finding every detail unexpected for a man like his friend. “i see. so that’s how it is. well, let me ask you a simple question then, my friend.” 

“shoot.”

“do you love her?”

wriothesley pauses. neuvillette’s questions echo repeatedly in his mind. do i love her? he then asks himself. he was not stupid. wriothesley did not need to become some sort of genius to find the answer to that question—because the answer is no. he doesn’t love you. yes, he has grown to trust you with things he would never even dare tell anyone else. but he’s scared. wriothesley is scared because he has never thought of commitment in this way before. romance was just a frivolous belief to him, after all. so surely, this would all just mean nothing.

he ponders about it for a few more moments. he’s too scarred—too damaged—to be loved by someone like you. he feels undeserving of it. he knows there’s another man out there who could be the man you want to be. someone who will make you happier than he does. someone who is willing to commit himself to you. someone who could love you with nothing holding him back. 

“i don’t.” wriothesley firmly says.

no, wriothesley cannot be in love with you.

(neuvillette gives his friend a sigh as his friend takes his leave. he returns back to the room where queen furina is currently spending time with duke arlecchino. the duke had a habit of bringing the queen sweets from their travels abroad. the queen has excitement written all over her eyes as she makes eye contact with the pastries set in front of her.)

— — — — — — — — 

it wasn’t hard to put two and two together to realize that wriothesley has been avoiding you.

it has been a few months since you decided to start your ruse. although he still accompanies you, once it’s quite crowded, he will deliberately avoid your presence like a plague, and you have no idea why. you first thought that may be he was just feeling unwell but it has occurred more frequent now and it just stings, really. it stings because you thought that you two had formed quite the bond over the past few months.

“wriothesley, is something wrong? you know you could always talk to me, right?” you asked him, finally cornering him as he had successfully avoided you for the past two hours ever since the party started. “it’s nothing of your concern,” was all he said before leaving you again. but that answer wasn’t enough—hell, it wasn’t even a proper answer for you. so you decided to follow him.

“where are you going?” you asked him. speeding your pace up to catch up to him. wriothesley doesn’t answer and just continues on walking. he ends up going into a secluded room, not even bothering to close the door. you followed him in and shut the door behind you as you faced him. he had his back facing you as you heard him take a deep breath. “wriothesley, what’s wrong? and don’t even dare say that it’s none of my concern because it is.”

wriothesley could feel himself going mad. he can’t do this tonight. what even caused him to behave this way?

ah, he remembers. it was that unbearable sight of you interacting with marquess lyney. he should’ve been happy that you finally seem interested in someone else because all you two have to do now is plan how you should end things. but that thought made wriothesley realize two things. one, he cannot bear the sight of you with another man (but why? it’s not like you’re actually his in the first place). and two, he doesn’t want things to end between the both of you. whether it's a ruse that feels too real for his own liking or whatnot, he doesn’t want to lose you in his life.

he loosens the buttons on his top so that he can breathe more properly. you got closer to him, but only if you knew that was a dangerous move on your part. you grabbed his arm in hopes of getting a view of wriothesley’s expression at the moment.

he then faces you, his eyes searching for something in yours but you just can’t find out what. it was silent; neither of you dared to speak a word. and wriothesley finds himself pulling you for a kiss. it was a bit rough how his lips crashed against yours. he then pulls away, his eyes widening at what he just did. “i… my most sincere apologies.”

and he leaves. just like that.

the familiar door to the modiste is presented at you as you knocked. it was late at night. the party you attended earlier with wriothesley was long over. but you knew your dear friend would still be up even at this late hour. 

“(name)? what brings you here at this hour?” chiori asks, opening the door wider so you could enter.

“i need a goddamn drink.” you said.

— — — — — — — — 

“so you’re telling me that he just… kissed you again, and then he left the party? just like that?” chiori repeats. you take another shot of the alcohol chiori provided for the both of you. “hey, calm down. this one is actually pretty strong, you idiot.” chiori warns you.

you lean back, slamming the shot glass against the table. “just like that, chiori. like what is wrong with him? is he perhaps sick in the head?”

“i honestly don’t know if i should be at least grateful that he apologized.” she says, taking a shot as well. you glare at her remark and she raises her hands in return. you sighed this time, “are men always this… complicated?”

“hm, i don’t think so. maybe it’s just the duke.”

“you’re not helping!”

“you never said you wanted help in the first place.”

— — — — — — — — 

seven days.

seven days since you last spoke to wriothesley. seven days since you last heard of him. it has been seven days yet he hasn’t made any attempts to contact you since. 

just what was up with him? he was fine before. did you do something wrong? did you accidentally say something that was offensive to him? everything has changed now. wriothesley is treating you like he treated you before he actually met you—cold. 

your mother has decided to throw a ball this time—something about her not wanting to fall behind the other mothers. you complied, having to accept that society is nothing but competition against one another. and on the day of the ball, you found yourself lonely. if only chiori wasn’t busy with her other orders, then maybe this night would’ve been more entertaining.

wriothesley has yet to make his appearance (or perhaps he is already here yet he has decided to avoid you again). but you have decided on one thing tonight: you will talk things out with that stubborn man no matter what it takes. because you cannot just bear to stand idly by when wriothesley could be struggling alone. you once heard from your mother that love makes you do the craziest things and tonight was the night you realized that she was right. but isn’t it worth it if it’s all in the name of love?

the outdoor area of your home was also used for the ball, and decorations are displayed here and there to make the area look more eyecatching. to your family’s dismay, it has begun to rain. making all of the guests head inside to continue the festivities. but as you made your way to follow the crowd, you spotted someone too familiar—it was the man you’ve been looking for all evening, wriothesley.

looking around his surroundings, wriothesley spots you getting drenched in the rain. his eyes widen as he quickly makes his way towards you, removing his coat to drape it over you instead. “are you insane? you’re getting drenched!” he exclaims in worry. you scoff in return, pushing yourself away from his coat and allowing yourself to get wet by the rain.

“am i insane? i should be the one asking you that!” you said, glaring at him. “how… how could you? do you know how worried i have been because of you? you avoided me, then kissed me, then avoided me even more! i had no idea if you were okay because you didn’t even dare speak with me while i was here stuck waiting for you. why? because i didn’t want to pressure you into telling me what’s wrong!”

wriothesley is at a loss for words at your outburst. he just stares at you in return, guilt written all over him. he deserved your anger. but he didn’t mean for things to go this far, yet he also didn’t know how to handle things. you continued speaking, “wriothesley, i have no idea what’s clouding over your heart but i do know one thing: you musn’t keep it to yourself.”

“(name)...” he softly says—hesitantly, even. like he’s scared to even say your name in the first place. you take a step forward, both of your hands reaching out to hold his face. your touch was gentle on his skin, making sure you weren't making him uncomfortable. “tell me what’s wrong, wriothesley. i’ll listen.”

and tell you, he does. he voice shakes at first yet he begins to steady it as he unravels to you everything that has been bothering him up until now. his jealousy, his inner turmoil, and his insecurities. and you listen to him, understanding every word that escapes his lips as your hand never leaves his face, your fingers gently brushing over his scar below his right eye. and once he’s finished, you choose your next words carefully.

“there’s something that i realized in life that i believe you should know. just because something is not perfect does not make it any less worthy of love. you made yourself believe otherwise. you made yourself believe that you had to be without fault just so you could be loved but you’re wrong, wriothesley. should you need any proof of the matter, then look just here.” you weakly laugh at the last sentence, and wriothesley just stares at you. you couldn’t find out what’s going on in his head but you know that he’s listening.

your voice shakes as you continue. “i am tired of this sick game of pretending. i am tired of pretending—of acting as if i do not love you, because i do. i love you more than you could ever imagine. every scar, every flaw, every imperfection—i love all of you. you may think you’re too damaged or too scarred to allow yourself of happiness but you can choose differently, wriothesley. you can choose to love me as much as i love you. that should not be up to anyone else—that cannot be up to anyone else.”

“it can only be up to you.”

he was still silent as you slowly let go of his face but wriothesley was quick to catch them. he grabs ahold of your hands, and with his slight shaking, he takes a deep breath. he realizes something when you profess your love for him. he puts two things together: commitment and you. and the conclusion he draws from that is that he doesn’t mind commitment, as long as he’s committing himself to you. that’s how much of an impact you have on him. yes, he’s scared. and yes, this might not go like he hopes it will. but that doesn’t matter to him because he knows it will all be worth it for you. wriothesley is a coward when it comes to love and the like—that, he admits. but he isn’t allowing himself to be a coward for the rest of his life. why deprive himself of the serene type of happiness that he could only achieve when he has you by his side?

he kept his eyes on the hands he’s holding now as he began to speak. “i.. i do not wish to be alone. i know that now. but what i do not know is how to be the man you wish for me to be—the man you truly deserve. i do not know how to do any of this, but i do know another thing: i love you too. i love you. most ardently.” he then meets your eyes as he notices one thing in them. love.

“you stay. you stay and we’ll get through this. together. that’s where we’ll start. we have all the time in the world.”

“may i… kiss you?” he hesitates to ask. but you give him a nod of approval before you’re met with the familiar pleasure of his lips on yours. he relishes every second of the kiss, taking this as a chance to ground himself into reality—refusing to believe that this is some sick dream that his mind decided to play in his head. a hand slithers its way to the nape of his neck and wriothesley groans at the feeling as his hand grabs your waist tighter. wriothesley thanked his lucky stars for the night he met you because this wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for them.

love at first sight was a frivolous belief for a man like wriothesley. 

but he knew otherwise the moment he laid his eyes upon you that night in the garden.

[spooky-pop]

Hello, I really love your broppy kid Ivy. Could you tell us more about her?

Yeah! Any specific questions I can answer? I can share just my current thoughts and ideas about her and what I'm working on.

Ivy was an "oops" baby, lol! What started as Branch having an off day turned into chaos when he noticed an egg in the middle of the night after he was unable to sleep. Poppy was the calm one but Branch was completely terrified at first, and Ivy ended up becoming his whole world. Ivy shows strong resemblance to Grandma Rosiepuff, which melts Branch and softens his heart. She starts as an only child but eventually gets a sibling.

(old old old quick sketch of his initial shock lol)

(Fun fact, I pulled a bunch of inspiration and influence for her design from Viva's concept art! Her hair and colors, I always love sharing this little fact tbh)

She definitely has Poppy's personality but amplified as a child, her energy is off the walls and she keeps her parents' hands full, at least until she hits her teens. She was a wild child, constantly getting into trouble but she was just being a kid. As a young adult her personality shifts, and she becomes calmer yet more sassy, haha. She is very family oriented, and loves to bond with her aunts and uncles.

(Example of Ivy shenanigans...Branch is not happy with her because she went and got herself all dirty before they had a royal family appearance to attend)

Most Trollings can start singing from a very little age, but Ivy did not sing for the first time until she was probably 14. Branch and Poppy never rushed her, but it was odd that their daughter was the only one who was shy about anything musical considering it was in her blood. She did sing, just by herself. She has a confident exterior but deep down she cares a lot about how she's perceived, since she is destined to become queen one day. She does overcome her shyness and becomes a great performer.

A lot of the story I have figured out focuses on her as a teen and young adult, and how she navigates life as princess. In her original ref I made, it has more info on her personality. And I hope to post another part to it soon!

Bonus: Sleepy parents with their new baby

Hope you like!

[eddieschains]

Just A Taste

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

a/n: no one look at me please and please don’t judge me let me HAVE THIS also not proofread oops

Word Count: 1k

TW// 18+, lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, mommy kink, handjob, cumming in pants, let me know if i missed anything!!

When you and Eddie got married, he couldn’t wait to put a baby in you. It’s all he’s ever wanted ever since you started dating. He wanted to get started right away, so you did.

Now here you are, in your little cottage in the woods, rocking your newborn baby to sleep. Eddie loved watching you with her. The way you looked at her as you laid her down to sleep, he’d never seen such happiness on anyone. It melted his heart.

Eddie loved the way you looked pregnant. He loved watching your belly grow, being in awe of the fact that you were growing life inside of you. But his favorite part? Your boobs, of course. You already had a decent pair, he certainly wasn’t complaining. But the way they grew each day, god he couldn’t keep his eyes away.

Now as he sits next to you, watching you pump the milk out of them for when she inevitably wakes up hungry in the middle of the night, he can’t help but wonder. Wonder what it tastes like, what they feel like, what it would be like to milk you straight into his mouth.

It had only been 4 weeks, and you hadn’t been cleared for sex by your doctor yet. But Eddie was pent up to say the least. The smallest things would give him a hard on. When you’d put the baby to sleep and your shirt would hang open, when you’d reach in the cabinets and your underwear would peek above your pants, jesus even when you were fixing your hair and your shirt rode up showing the tiniest bit of your stomach, he could barely handle it.

He needed to get his hands on you, his mouth on you, anything to relieve the constant pressure in his pants. He’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t thought through and through everyday for the past 4 weeks on how to ask you if he can suck on your tits. He just didn’t want you to think he was weirdo. You’d been together for 5 years now, yet he still gets insecure.

But tonight was pushing him to his breaking point. He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been staring in silence as he watched the machine pulse around your nipple until you snapped him out of his daze.

“Eddie?” You ask with furrowed brows as he finally lifts his head to look at you. He shakes his head slightly and mumbles a hmm?

“You were staring.” You chuckle as you fill one bottle and set it on the table in front of you, preparing the next one.

“Yeah- sorry. I just- do you ever wonder… I mean- does it- does it hurt when…” He trails off, not sure how to bring it up to you.

“It doesn’t hurt, no. It can be uncomfortable sometimes, but it’s not painful.” You answer, unphased as you start to fill up the next bottle. He nods quietly before moving his eyeline back down to your breasts.

He sits in silence for a few more minutes before blurting out, “Can I taste it?”

You lift your head quickly, looking at him with wide eyes and confusion until you realize he isn’t joking. He’s staring right into your eyes before he reaches over and slowly puts the bottle on the table, removing the pump from your breast.

You suck in a sharp breath as he looks at you with pleading eyes, silently asking for permission before you nod yes. He swallows the lump in his throat as he pulls your shirt down further, salivating at the sight as his cock strains tighter in his jeans.

He places his hand on the mound, gently rubbing and squeezing, whimpering at the feeling. You watch him as he gets mesmerized by your swollen tits, palming himself with his other hand.

He plays with the skin of your tit a little while longer before diving in, swirling his tongue around your nipple, making you both let out soft moans. You shudder at the feeling, still sensitive from the pump.

Eddie chuckles, sending vibrations around the bud, only making you moan more.

“Feel good baby?” He mumbles around you, looking up at you with eyes full of lust.

You nod frantically, looking down to see he’s pulled his cock out the top of his jeans, as he begins to stroke it at a steady pace.

You tangle your fingers in his hair as the feeling shoots in between your legs, making you writhe in your seat. He keeps licking in circles before finally squeezing his lips around your nipple, sucking as your milk slowly spills on to his tongue.

“Oh, fuck mommy. You taste so fucking good.” He moans into you, sucking harder and sliding his tongue around to capture every last drop.

Something about his desperate need to feel you and taste any part of you has you a squirming, moaning mess. You reach your hand down to swat his away from his leaking cock, wrapping yours around it as you pump him harder.

“My god, this feels better than I thought.” You both giggle, as you continue to pump him, harder with each pump of your tits.

His moans become louder, and more frequent the harder he sucks and the more milk he swallows down. You feel your arousal soaking through your leggings as your pussy clenches around nothing, getting closer just from the feeling of his mouth on you.

“Want you to cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy, yeah?” You coo, his cock twitching in your hand at your words.

“I’ll cum for you, mommy. Gonna give you all I have.” He groans.

He sucks harder, faster as you do the same with his member. The room filled with muffled moans as you both start to shake under each others touch. A few moments go by before you even realize his cum has covered your arm, and your own has soaked through your pants.

You continue pumping him, now your turn to milk him for all he’s worth as he peppers soft kisses along your chest and down your boobs.

“Can we do that again?” He whines, as he rests his head in your chest.

“Give it a couple weeks and you’ll be sucking more than just my tits.”

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls 10 2/2

Masterpost

Jazz’s roommate Tiffany was fine and all that, but Danny didn’t feel that he was missing out on much when he phased from the stairwell directly into the little ensuite bathroom that connected to Jazz’s bedroom. He could hear quiet conversation from the living room– the TV, maybe?

But Jazz had clearly locked her bedroom door before she left. Danny made a note that Tiffany definitely wouldn’t be finding him and then he starfished on his sister’s bed. He set an alarm for 1 am with a smidge of guilt. It probably wouldn’t wake her up. Maybe she wouldn’t even stay home for the night, she had a boyfriend, right? Or was she the one with the girlfriend who worked downtown?

Whatever. Danny slept like the dead. In fact, he slept through his alarm and woke up to see 7 messages from Jazz. The one showing on the screen was “DANIEL FENTON Tiffany thinks my bedroom is HAUNTED because someone is snoring in there.”

“Oops,” Danny said under his breath. He opened up the clock app and made sure that the alarm wasn’t going to go off again. He quietly pulled open Jazz’s drawers to find a clean pair of socks and a hoodie that didn’t have his university name written on it.

The first thing he pulled out was a baby pink hoodie that had SQUAT written on it in white all-caps print. “I sure do,” he said to himself, and changed into it. It was a lie. He did not lift weights. That was Jazz’s hobby.

He did enjoy the thought of how pinched her face was gonna get when she saw him in her clothes. Danny had a little chuckle over it before he phased back out and nearly fell down the staircase. His arms wheeled for balance.

When he caught himself he looked around to be sure no one saw. The zone was clear. Danny smirked.

“Another perfect landing for the Phantom.”

Oh, duh. That was a thought. He didn’t have to hoof it.

It was dark enough that he reconsidered his plan to walk to Arkham on foot and ducked back into Jazz’s place to transform where no one could see the light show.

He made good time across the stretch of ocean that separated Jazz’s dream job from the rest of Gotham City. He knew where to go, based off of insider information.

Jeremy Waters had landed himself in Arkham, rather than standard criminal housing, because he would not shut the fuck up about the debt the Ghost King was going to owe him and how he would repay it in the blood of everyone who crossed him or whatever. He was in the low security end, given that he was just some dude, but Danny still spend a moment steeling himself to wake Jeremy and (ugh) talk to him.

‘He’s going to take this as positive feedback,’ Danny thought glumly. ‘He’s going to think he’s gotten something in his obsession with me. He’s probably going to be even more annoying.’

He wasn’t entirely sure that Jeremy’s focus on gifting him spouses wasn’t projection. The guy was kinda obsessed.

The weight class difference between the two of them was just absurd, metaphysically speaking. Jeremy was a 52 year old Poli-sci graduate who had ditched a middle of the road career in the Foreign Service at age 40 and started pursuing immortality. Midlife crisis and all that. He had a bit of boxing experience, but that was it. He was just a human guy.

Danny was king of the dead and he could shoot lasers from his hands. He was strong even for a ghost.

‘It’s pathetic that he creeps me out still. It’s just such bad vibes to be pursued by this old guy who won’t take no for an answer.’

Still, gotta do what you gotta do. He blew frost into the room to set a mood and scramble the fuck out of any surveilance equipment. Then he grimaced his way through calling out, “Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy!” until the jerk woke up.

…and immediately started genuflecting. “My lord Phantom,” Jeremy whimpered. His whole body was shaking.

Danny wished it was fear. But no. It was excitement, like he was some freaky little purse dog. He shuddered. “What did you do differently in your latest summoning?” he asked. His voice somehow came out cold and superior.

He could see Jeremy’s dazed grin even when the guy was still looking at the cell floor. “I am so glad that you ask, my lord,” he babbled. “I increased the number of ritual participants from 7 to 12. I changed from Kosher to Pink Himalayan salt. I was initially going to offer my humble self as a sacrifice-”

Danny’s stomach lurched.

“But when the Red Hood burst in, I knew that it was a sign!”

The red what now?

“Surely someone whose aura is so soaked in death and brutality would be a flavorful meal for one so horrendous and deathly as you, my Lord,” Jeremy babbled on.

Danny made a face.

‘He thinks I’m going to eat the sacrifice spouse?’ Danny paused. ‘...Was he lying, or does he want me to eat him? What does he think will happen if death eats him?’

He had a morbid curiousity that made him want to ask. But it was probably best not to know. He needed to sleep at night.

“It was the Pink Himalayan salt that was powerful enough to draw my attention,” Danny told Jeremy, because he really didn’t need any good information. “I reject your offering. Stop trying.”

He left immediately in hopes of not hearing the wailing and gnashing of teeth behind him.

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ akaashi as a best friend

⟡ cw: fluff, friends to lovers, mentions of drinking and vomiting

⟡ a/n: akaashi is so pretty and i find writers to be so charming.

⟡ best friend series: konoha, bokuto, || masterlist

best friend akaashi who you met your first year of high school when your childhood friend, bokuto, introduced you to his volleyball team.

best friend akaashi who you got closer to when you saw him in the library writing something which sparked a connection because you liked writing too.

best friend akaashi who is confused by the praise you give him when you read over what he's written.

best friend akaashi who asked if you wanted to be manager the next year because having you around made bokuto happy (because having you around meant akaashi was more calm and happy - bokuto likes akaashi happy)

best friend akaashi who you went to college with and both majored in the same thing (literature)

best friend akaashi who would always proofread your projects while you proofread his since you were in most of the same classes.

best friend akaashi who would make you tea or hot coco during allnighters because he knows you hate the taste of coffee.

best friend akaashi who never had any interest in going to parties but went along with you just to make sure you were safe.

best friend akaashi who didn't care when you vomited on his favorite shirt after drinking too much because he was just glad you weren't hurt.

best friend akaashi who set up a warm bath for you after the party so you wouldn't feel gross while you were about to go to bed.

best friend akaashi who realized his feelings for you long ago but shrugged them off because he just thought that maybe you were just being nice.

best friend akaashi who decided to finally accept his feelings after you cooked him his favorite meal as a thank you for taking care of you when you needed.

best friend akaashi who asked bokuto what he should do with his feelings only to be answered with a loud cheering on the other end of the phone because he was happy that his two favorite people liked each other.

best friend akaashi who was confused when bokuto said 'liked each other' but when he asked him about it bokuto faked the phone call breaking up because 'oops didn't mean to say that'/

best friend akaashi who stays up all night thinking about what bokuto says but can't take it anymore so he gets up and walks to your dorm thats down the hall in the middle of the night to finally ask you.

best friend akaashi who apologizes for waking you up but immediately says 'bokuto said you liked me'.

best friend akaashi who stared at you as you collected your thoughts before finally confirming that you did in fact liked him.

best friend akaashi who said that he had feelings for you too which caused you to jump into his arms so that he's carrying you while you both are hugging.

best friend akaashi who is now boyfriend akaashi who right after college ends up writing a small and cute manga about your daily lives together which was published and became a hit. (bokuto bought like 50 copies btw).

[scary-grace]

WIP GAME: The Shigaraki x reader phone sex AU

@sophsiaaa requested more info about the phone sex AU, and it’s pretty straightforward. in short, the reader works as a dispatcher at a high-end end escort service, answering questions, doing admin, and keeping phone sex clients occupied while waiting for an operator to open up. On one particular night, she finds herself on the phone with a client who’s a different kind of weird than usual:

You’re in the middle of familiarizing yourself with all the parts of the cell when your headset starts beeping — and when you check your screen, you see that every single operator is busy. Again.

You get paid a flat hourly rate, but you really should negotiate that up for nights you spend keeping clients occupied while they wait. You answer the phone and run through your spiel — your operator’s not ready yet, but I’m here, and I’m super psyched to talk to a weirdo just like you — and wait for the inevitable question about what you’re wearing. You wait. And wait. And keep waiting, so long that you start to wonder if the call’s dropped when you weren’t looking. That, or the client got so wound up hearing a woman’s voice on the phone that they had a heart attack and died. You try again. “Hello?”

The call’s still live. You hear your voice echo on the other end of the call, and when you listen closer, you can hear someone breathing. Breathing sort of heavily. Great. “You know I get paid whether you talk or not, right?”

Oops. You shouldn’t have said that. Your boss will be pissed, and if whoever this is pays up, does it really matter if he says anything? Maybe he just wants to breathe heavily into the phone until time’s up. You’d like to think you can sit quietly while some guy does — something to the sound of you breathing on your end of the line, but it turns out that’s beyond your power to cope with. “Um, do you want to know what I’m wearing?”

“What?”

“Clients usually ask that,” you say, trying to cover your shock. This client sounds young. Shiroiwa’s price point is so high that next to none of the clients are younger than forty, but this guy sounds like he’s barely out of high school. You should know — you’re barely out of high school yourself. “They want to know what I’m wearing so they can — um, imagine a little better.”

Silence. The breathing sounds a little less heavy and a little more hyperventilating, and you resist the urge to bang your head on the table with an effort. Why do you always get stuck with the weird ones? “So, like I said, I’m not actually the person you’re supposed to talk to. I’m just here to keep you company until your partner’s ready for you. We don’t have to talk at all.”

You’re rapidly coming to the conclusion that not talking is the best outcome for this situation. You and the client can pretend each other isn’t there until you can transfer him to somebody else, somebody who’s good with the weird ones or the shy ones. Kayoko, maybe. She’s great at bringing clients out of their shells. The fact that she and you and anybody else who listens in wishes they’d never come out of their shells in the first place doesn’t really matter.

“What are you, then?” The raspy voice is in your ear again. “If you’re not who I’m supposed to talk to.”

“I’m admin. Kind of a secretary.” You kick yourself instantly for the choice of words. “Not the sexy kind of secretary. Just — I’m the one who routes the phone calls. And the messages from our chat service. Unless it’s busy.”

“It’s busy?”

“Saturday night? It’s really busy,” you say. He sounds disappointed. “Is there somebody you were hoping to talk to specifically? I can let you know how long a wait there will be.”

“I don’t care who I talk to,” the client says. You hear that from new clients a lot, before they pick a favorite operator. All the regulars have a favorite. “This was stupid.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you say hastily. Your boss will kill you if you lose a client. Even a weird client. “Tell me what you want to talk about. That way I can pick the right partner to send you to.”

“I don’t know,” the client says. You glance at the info Mizuho sent and get a shock — the client’s nineteen, same as you. “It’s — fuck. It’s my birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” you say on autopilot, which is apparently the wrong thing to do. You can practically feel the client’s embarrassment oozing through the phone, and you spin off into a sales pitch that sounds terrible even to you. “Well, you’ve called the right service. I know a ton of our companions who can make your day really special.”

[mosaickiwi]

All Clean!!!

How dare Sai deprive me of this tbh /j /silly

a lil itty bit angsty on angel's part… i meant to write it completely goofy oops

cw// mild nudity (but not for sexy reasons), blood, implied offscreen murder(s)

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

“Should I be concerned?” you finally blurted out, curious about whatever had caused the sight before you. 

[REDACTED] sat completely relaxed on the edge of the tub, splatters of blood mixed with dirt and rain water over their face and torso. Under the scarlet streaks and smears, his skin was flushed as if he’d been running a long time. He was stripped to his boxers, and the clothes they’d come home in were being tossed around in the washing machine while you took care of him. 

“Not at all,” he quickly answered your question with a nonchalant shake of his head, then muttered an apology. “Didn't mean t’wake you up.”

It was strange that he was more worried about your sleep than the fact that he came home covered in bloodstains, but you knew exactly what to expect from them by now. The only sound in the room was the cloth in your hands loudly dripping into a bowl of soapy water as you rung it out to clean them up.

You’d heard noises in the middle of the night, and peered out of the bedroom to find your boyfriend halfway down his apartment’s dimly lit hall, making a mess of the marble floor with their clothes soaked from the rainstorm. Except the little puddles of what should've been water were slightly stained red, leaving a haunting trail in his wake as he’d staggered towards the bathroom. 

The apathy in their blue eyes disappeared the moment you called their name, a puppylike smile forming on his lips that was at odds with his ghastly appearance as he turned, fully intent on hugging you, then struggled to stop himself once they realized they’d get dirt and blood all over you if he tried. You would’ve laughed if you weren't still half asleep.

And if the hallway didn’t look like a crime scene all its own.

You brushed their dark bangs back and wiped at the liquid on their forehead and cheeks, gently scolding them. “Don’t apologize for that. I’d rather miss out on sleep and make sure you're okay instead of wondering if…” It hurt to even think the words.

He took hold of your hand, the cloth trembling against his skin from your fears. “‘M sorry for worrying you, love. I promise it’s not my blood,” they said in the hopes you’d calm down. Weirdly enough, it did make you feel better.

Though he never flat out admitted to it, he wasn’t really trying to hide the things they did from you anymore, only the brutality of it all. From the dozen or so times you came home to an empty apartment after a text not to wait for him, just to vaguely recognize a missing person on the TV a few days later, it was obvious without confirmation. This was the first time you’d “caught” them, though—and with actual physical evidence. He usually came home silent and squeaky clean.

“It better not be,” you halfheartedly joked to ease the tension. He smiled and let go of your hand so you could continue your work.

The cleanup went by quickly. Dipping the cloth into the bowl of soapy water and wringing it out one last time, you reached towards your hacker’s bare shoulders. The blood there was mostly gone—save for a streak just below their collarbone. It wiped away all too easily, but a tiny line of dots flowered forth from a small injury you hadn't noticed at all.

“So about this not being your blood,” you started, setting the cloth down in the bowl.

He must not have noticed it either, but recognition dawned on their face. “I did have a tree problem earlier.”

“A tree problem?” Your earlier worries were quickly pushed aside at the revelation.

“Yeah, a branch got stuck—” he suddenly paused. The pink in his already flushed cheeks deepened. Their eyes shifted to the side in embarrassment. “Never mind.”

You struggled not to laugh. Of all things to phase him about his night out, a tree branch? The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to tease them. But you held your tongue and quickly grabbed some ointment and a bandage from a nearby cabinet.

[REDACTED] didn't even flinch when you pressed a dab of ointment to the reddened scratches. His expression seemed to melt instead. You asked carefully, “It doesn’t hurt does it?”

Their gaze went blank and wide eyed for a split second, then a twinge of fake sadness oozed into his voice. “‘Hurts a lot, Angel. Be gentle with me and kiss it better?” He even pouted to sell the act.

“Of course.” You playfully rolled your eyes and applied more ointment. As you spread it over the scrapes, he resumed adoringly looking up at you until you finished. Satisfied with your work, you smoothed the bandage over his skin and loudly planted a kiss to the spot then stood up.

“Y’know…” he hummed while wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist with a devious smile. “My mouth hurts too. ‘Could use a kiss or four there, don't y'think?”

With a smile, you leaned down, grabbing both their cheeks as if to kiss them. His eyes glittered in anticipation as you came closer. Instead, you stopped millimeters from their lips and whispered in the sultriest voice you could muster, “I’m gonna go mop the hallway.”

[trashogram]

More HCY Fluff:

*** ‘—Full of shine and full of sparkle Close your eyes and see it glisten, Cha-arlie Listen, Charlieeee!’

Lucifer leaned in with a smile that split into a full grin as Charlie wiggled and giggled in his hands. Water was splashed here and there in the little sink-turned-baby-bath, and the Devil was grateful he’d positioned their little cathedral radio far away from its range.

The baby wriggled some more when Lucifer’s eyes flickered away for even the briefest second. Her love for attention wasn’t novel considering her lineage, but it was ever so endearing. Lucifer very, very gently washed the suds from her rich mop of hair.

‘Put on your Sunday clothes, there's lots of world out there… hm hm hmm…’ The King bobbed his head from side-to-side with the radio. ‘Hmm hm hm— in white, In a perfumed night Where the lights are bright as the stars!’

When all the suds were scrubbed away, Lucifer lifted the baby up and onto the nest of folded towels he’d made. He laughed as Charlotte instantly kicked around with her roly-poly legs. Who knew babies had so much energy!

She whined and Lucifer answered it with a coo. “Aww, it’s ok Char Char. Almost done!”

The new father focused on wiping away the bath water from Charlie’s apple cheeks and out of her fleecy hair. Instantly, the tiny antichrist smiled, chasing after his hand in the fibers of the cloth. Her tail instinctively wound around his wrist as much as it could, keeping him close.

After snuggly wrapping her up, Lucifer relented and took his daughter back into his arms, cradling her close.

‘—And we'll close the town in a whirl—’ He spun on his feet as carefully as he could before planting a big, dramatic kiss on the giggly girl’s cheek, ‘But we won't come home until we've kissed a girl!’

With Charlie laughing, and the sink draining, Lucifer soft-shoed out of the grand bathroom with the radio floating behind him.

Just in time, you were walking through the door, Razzle and Dazzle trotting at your heels. That technological doohickey that you’d carried around to run things was clutched in your hands, and many more were balanced on Dazzle’s back behind you as if he were a pack mule. Razzle was pushing a basket of scrolls forward opposite his brother.

Lucifer would have frowned had you not started humming along to the radio, most likely unconsciously. And, as soon as you looked up and saw his waiting grin as well as the bundle in his arms, you put it down on the nearest surface.

Another thing to chalk up to the ‘like father, like daughter’ saying: Charlie sensed your presence and squealed madly, happily, as soon as she spotted you. Lucifer had to shift the little girl in his arms to prevent her from flying out of his grip in her pursuit of you.

They met you in the middle of the bedroom, and Lucifer took a moment to soak up your appraising look. It was silly, but he felt proud presenting himself and your freshly cleaned child, all cozy and ready for bed.

“Oop!” Lucifer snapped his fingers together (barely, still preoccupied with holding the bouncing infant) and Charlie was fully clothed in a butter-yellow onesie. “Ready for bed now, ma’am!”

You snickered. “At ease, soldier.”

Lucifer smiled so widely it practically hurt, but his heart was light and his life was full. You gathered him up in your arms, with Charlie slowly settling down between the two of you, and the King couldn’t help the lovesick sigh that escaped him.

‘And this I'm positive of That we won't come home That we won't come home No we won't come home until we fall in love!’

[fluentmoviequoter]

Let Me Help

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fostered!SWAT!fem!reader

Summary: When Los Angeles is hit with a freak cold front and your apartment loses heat, you don't ask for help. Luca sees how sick you are and pays you a visit which ends with him taking you back to his house to heal.

Warnings: reader was a foster kid, angst, sickness (pneumonia), fluff and comfort! there's also several Batman references. oops.

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

In hindsight, becoming a member of S.W.A.T. may have been a mistake. Not because you don’t enjoy the work or get along with your team but because your past makes certain things hard for you. Growing up in the foster system is a lot of things, and it caused you to be incredibly self-reliant. You learned to be responsible and take care of yourself at a very early age. More than that, you were led to believe that no one would ever want to help you. So, now that you are an adult, you find it hard to ask for help. No matter who it is, asking for assistance or backup is not easy, which makes it hard to be a member of 20-David sometimes.

When you’re in the field, you can switch that part of your brain off, and become a S.W.A.T. officer rather than a foster kid. But the moment you get back to HQ and need your teammates’ help, the words seem to disappear, and you forget how to ask people to be there for you, even those closest to you.

Joining 20-David, however, saved your life. Before S.W.A.T., you were, for the most part, alone and lost. They gave you a home, a family, and everything else you never had before. While every team member cares about you, Luca shows you what it is like to be loved and appreciated.

✯✯✯✯✯

“It’s freezing out there,” Hondo complains as he enters HQ.

“Coldest winter in history according to the news,” Street replies. “Which means desperate, cold people and more calls for us. Any chance this is like Batman, and Alfred can make us special winter uniforms before the first one?”

“Sure,” you answer. “I’m sure that’s precisely what Hicks is doing right now.”

“What am I doing?” he asks as he rounds a corner.

“Nothing,” you and Street answer together.

“Alfred,” Street whispers to you.

You press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing while suppressing a shiver. It is certainly cold, and the heat in your apartment complex went out in the middle of the night. Most people then left and found somewhere else to stay, but hotels are booked, and you can’t find the right time or words to ask your team to lend you a hand or a place to stay.

“Sorry I’m late,” Luca says as he joins your side.

He rubs his hands together to warm up and smiles at you. Hicks gives you information on a fugitive warrant and pulls up a blueprint of the man’s house. There are several points of entry, but the man knows how to barricade all of them, so your team will have to take a unique approach.

“Cut the power and wait for him to get cold,” Deacon suggests.

“Man, what do you have to complain about?” Hondo asks. “You’ve got a wife and four kids to keep you warm.”

“Really?” Hicks asks. “You wanna bring up body heat, playboy?”

You chuckle and stick your hands farther into your pockets. Luca shakes his head beside you before lowering his voice to ask how you are.

“I’m alright. Ready for sunny Los Angeles to get sunny again,” you answer. “What about you?”

“I’d have to say the same. If you want to come over for my world-famous hot chocolate tonight, feel free,” Luca offers.

“Hot chocolate?” Street asks.

“That got his attention better than I ever have,” Hicks grumbles.

“Luca’s hot chocolate is like Christmas and happiness and pure warmth in a cup. And I do pay attention to you, Commander, but my eyelids are frozen shut.”

“Just, go execute the warrant and get back. It’s going to be a long week with this cold front,” Hicks interjects.

“Yes, sir,” Hondo replies. “Let’s roll.”

When you open your locker and realize you forgot your second long-sleeved t-shirt at home, you lean your head against the locker door.

“Here,” Luca says as he extends a jacket to you. “It’s an old one, but I accidentally picked up both.”

“I can’t accept that,” you begin.

“I don’t need it. Seriously, I’ll feel better knowing you’re warm. Work with me?”

Luca smiles, and you accept the jacket with a smile. It’s warm and smells like Luca’s cologne, so, once it’s on, you regret arguing against it. If you could live in this jacket, you would.

“We got this,” Luca reminds you as he walks by your side to Black Betty.

✯✯✯✯✯

The following morning, when your alarm goes off, you feel like you can’t wake up. Your apartment is still without heat, and the permeating cold sucks the energy out of you. When you finally pry your eyes open, you remember that you are still wearing Luca’s jacket, and that gives you the surge of energy you need to get out of bed and get ready. You’ve been sleeping in too many layers, and with each one you strip off, you feel the cold settle further into you. Your joints are stiff, your nose is runny, and you can’t shake the tiredness caused by the dropping temperature. Something needs to change, but you don’t know how to fix it. There has to be a trick to surviving this without help… if only you knew what it was.

In the warm locker room, you scroll through your phone in a sad attempt to find a hotel or rental house you can afford. They’re all booked through the end of the week or ridiculously overpriced, so you turn the phone off and lean back against the bench.

“How are you?” Luca asks when he enters. “The jacket looks good on you.”

“Oh, do you need it back?” You sit up as you ask, but Luca smiles and waves you off.

“No, keep it as long as you want. Can’t remember the last time I wore it. Everything okay on your side of town? Some of the buildings in my neighborhood lost heat during the night.”

You shake your head as you prepare to lie. “Everything’s good.”

Luca nods but glances over when you sniff. The cold can be blamed for some of what is happening in Los Angeles right now, but Luca suspects there is something that you aren’t telling him. He’s repeatedly told you he’s here for you, but Street explained that foster kids aren’t great at reaching out, no matter how close someone is. So, Luca will wait for you to come to him, and his arms will be open when you do.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the week, you are miserable. The cold front has stalled, so meteorologists have little idea about when it will warm up again, and your apartment is getting colder every day. You’ve been able to sleep despite the conditions, but each morning, waking up is harder than the day before. You’re constantly tired, and your sniffles worsen, becoming an ache in your chest. The joint pain has worsened, and while it eases at work, it only intensifies each night you return home.

Luca keeps a close eye on you and can tell you’re tired, but he doesn’t want to push you to talk. If he could convince you to tell Street what's up, maybe you’d be more open, he thinks. You interrupt his internal debate with a deep cough. It rattles your chest and hurts your body as it escapes.

“That does not sound good,” Luca says as he turns toward you.

You’re shivering and can barely keep your eyes open, but you shake your head and reply, “I’m good. The cold is just bothering my allergies, I think.”

Hondo yells for you, and you stand quickly, ignoring the pain as you do so. Luca watches you go and grows more concerned for you. He asks Deacon if he’s noticed you acting differently and Deacon immediately answers that he is nearly certain you are getting sick. They both know you won’t tell anyone, preferring to risk your safety at work rather than asking for assistance. It’s part of your personality, even if it worries them.

Out of stubbornness and not recognizing that your team is worried about your well-being, you brush off their questions and concerns about your health. You’ve been living in the cold for nearly a week now, and you are sure the heat will be fixed soon (even if you have to figure out how to repair it yourself). So, you return home to a freezing apartment and silently hope you wake up in the morning.

✯✯✯✯✯

Not only do you wake up, but you wake up while it’s still dark out because you’re coughing and shaking. You’re burning up, which is the first of many clues that you are not okay. After picking up your phone, you find Luca’s contact and sit with your finger positioned over the call button. He would happily come to get you and let you rest in his heated house, but when you imagine him answering, you no longer want to admit you need help. So, you get up and slowly get ready before driving to S.W.A.T. HQ. At the least, you can sit in a warm room before your shift starts.

When you enter, Rocker’s team is about to start a training exercise and invite you to join. You have an hour before you have to be in uniform, so you agree, mostly so they don’t get as suspicious as 20-David already is.

At the end of the exercise, you are holding your coughs in and fighting to hide how hard your arms and hands are shaking. You feel terrible, and anyone who looks at your target from the shooting range will be able to see that it’s affecting your work.

You don’t notice Luca standing at the edge of the rink, and when Rocker knocks you to the mat with a single hit, he jumps onto the mat beside you.

“Hey,” he calls as he gestures for Rocker to step back.

His words don’t reach your ears over your coughing, but you see him and force yourself to calm down. Luca and Rocker stand over you, clearly concerned, and you smile as you accept their help.

“I’m fine,” you promise. “Just wanted to see if Rocker would pull his punches for a girl.”

“The fist of justice is unisex,” Rocker replies sarcastically.

“You and Street should have a Batman marathon,” you reply as you follow Luca to the locker room.

“I’m just going to be direct,” Luca begins once you’re alone. “I’m really worried about you.”

“Luca, I’m just not doing well with the cold. I’ll be fine, though. I appreciate the concern, but it’s unnecessary.”

You stand, and Luca says your name. Stopping, you can’t decide if you want to let go and tell him everything or push him away like you normally do.

“Luca, I am fine.”

“You clearly are not.”

“I know that you care, but leave it alone, Luca.”

You walk away before he responds. As you pass Deacon, you realize that Luca touched your skin, so he probably suspects you have a fever. However, your conversation with Luca makes you feel worse, so you decide to power through the day and then call your landlord about your heater. Again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Luca watches you leave the minute your shift is over. You don’t change or wash up, and he decides that he can’t leave it, or you, alone any longer. As he drives to your apartment, Luca plans to remind you that you need to rest and take care of yourself, especially in this weather. He sees a drugstore and stops quickly to gather a few things he thinks may help you feel better. Maybe you’ll surprise him by accepting his offer to help you care for yourself.

When Luca pulls into the parking lot of your apartment, he’s surprised to find it nearly empty. He parks behind your car and rushes to your door. His concern grows with each moment he waits for your answer.

✯✯✯✯✯

You continue to shiver painfully despite being dressed in your tactical uniform, plus several sweatshirts, Luca’s jacket, and a blanket around your shoulders. Someone knocks on your door, and the only reason you force yourself off the bed is out of hope that it is the heat repair guy. When you open the door, you can’t decide to be happy or disappointed that it’s Luca.

Your voice is broken up by your harsh shivers as you ask what he’s doing there. Luca immediately feels how cold your apartment is and pushes inside. He sets a plastic bag on your counter before walking into your bedroom. He moves silently around your home like he belongs there and gathers your things as he goes.

“What are you doing?” you ask quietly.

“Are you out of your mind?” Luca replies. Despite the harshness of his question, his voice is soft, if a little annoyed. “How long has your heat been out? You said the cold was getting to you – because you let it in. Living like this is the reason you are sick! You should have told me, any one of us, so that we could help you. My house is always open to you, you know that.”

You get confused watching Luca gather your things while ranting about how you should have told him something. He reprimands you and helps you at the same time, it seems.

“Let’s go,” he says as he puts the bag he brought in your stuffed backpack.

“Where?” you inquire as you pull the blanket tighter around you.

“My house. Someone has to help you overcome the pneumonia you probably have.”

“But-“

“No more buts,” Luca declares. “I’m not asking, babe.”

The pet name catches you off guard, but you take Luca’s offered hand without question. You didn’t ask for help, but accepting it isn’t necessarily easier than asking for it. Once you’re at his house, he makes you comfortable on the couch before bringing you a warm drink and some medicine. His requests are soft-spoken, and you obey wordlessly.

“Thank you,” you murmur when he finally sits beside you.

Luca shakes his head and clenches his jaw quickly. “I’ll always be here to help you. I enjoy protecting you, caring for you, all of it. But you have to stop acting like it’s an imposition.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sappy or are just really annoyed with me.”

“Both!” Luca exclaims. “Look, I can understand being independent to a degree, but living like that could have been so much worse than this, and this is bad.”

You nod and look down at the blanket. “I have trouble asking for help,” you admit. “Growing up, I didn’t have people I could ask for help. The few that I did ask wouldn’t help me, so I just learned to do everything by myself. Finding the words, the opportunity to ask… it’s hard.”

Luca’s eyes soften as he lays his hands over yours. “I promise that I will always be here. I will always be ready, able, and willing to help you. I want to help you because I care about you.”

“Why am I so important?” you whisper as you look into his eyes.

Luca licks his lips before deciding to tell you a version of the truth. “Because I care about you. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone before.”

He says care, but he thinks love. Maybe after he’s gotten you healthy again, you can have an open and honest conversation with one another. For now, though, you close your eyes and lean against his shoulder, warm and happy. 

“I care about you, too. More than I should,” you mumble against Luca's shirt before falling asleep.

Luca smiles and tugs the blanket tighter around your shoulders before kissing your forehead. He will help you until he can’t help you anymore and love every moment of it, he thinks.

[pandorasfavorite]

Hi can you do where the reader is teasing Dom all night at raw and then Dom towards the middle gets really needy and horny and the reader tells him he has to wait but the reader keeps teasing him while they are out at dinner after raw in front of the judgement day and when they get back to the hotel it’s just reallyyyyyy smuttyyyyy from there

Weeks of Weakness

Word Count: 3364 (doesn’t even seem like much…)

AN: I did not proof read this so if you see any mistakes be a sweetheart and private message me. LOVE YALL and enjoy if it's good. I think the main change is there’s no hotel, oops sorry.

Trouble 💗

Do you need anything while I’m out baby?

No. I’m waiting for you.

I’ll be there in just a minute.

I can’t wait to see you.

———————————————————————————

You are beyond excited to see Dominik, you’ve been dating him for two months and you mainly see him at work. And more and more you miss him every day that you are apart from him. You both have liked each other long before 2 months though. And truthfully you’ve only been to each other house a few times, the time you’ve spent with him wasn’t enough for you. The one thing you have been waiting forever to do though is spend time with Dominik in another way…

Dominik is polite, sweet, and above all a gentleman, he has never pressured you to take the steamy make-out sessions on his couch any further. But you knew how bad you wanted him to take you right there. After many weeks of hope, you’ve decided to take a different approach.

Dominik knocks on the dressing room door before just walking in, he has a bag of drinks in his hand and a cute confused face. “Where is everyone?”, he asks you with a hint of confusion. He sets down the drinks on the table before walking over to you, not before letting eyes rake over your body. You are wearing a tight outfit that hugs all your curves and insinuates your features. The one thing you knew Dominik would like most though is the new necklace you have dangling around your neck.

He stops in front of you and instantly his eyes brighten in recognition, the necklace has his initials and it’s lying down the valley of your chest. His face splits into a grin and he grabs you by the waist, thrusting your body against the front of his. “I like that a lot. When did you get it mami?”, his eyes are flickering down to the necklace to your eyes.

“Not too long ago. You like it?”, you ask him even though he already told you he did once. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and for a second you see his eyes look further past the necklace. You let your hands slide over the hard muscles of his arms, one of the only parts of his body not covered by the black leather. You squeeze his arms waiting for an answer, your tongue prodding at the side of your cheek suggestively. “You teasing me mami?”, his voice became deeper and his face turned playful.

You raise up and peck his lips quickly, pulling away before he can kiss back. “Not yet”, you answer checking the time and grabbing Dominik’s wrist to usher him away.

Best believe today was going to be a challenge for Dominik.

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

You are always there for Dominik's matches, much before you both started to date. But today you told him that it wasn't possible for you, that you had too much to do. And Dominik couldn't help but be upset, he skidded to a stop when you told him and his face immediately fell into a sad expression. "Are you serious?", he asks tugging you closer to him like your leaving forever. His hand is around your wrist, yet you bring your hands to lay flat on his chest; he still refuses to let go of you.

"You'll do great. I will be waiting for you at home, okay?", you flutter your eyelashes at him to make this easier on him. "Home?!", he all but shouts, the poor thing is so confused you can't help but giggle at his distress. You plant a kiss on his slightly pouting lips before removing yourself from him. He whips his head around to watch you leave before he yells after you, "Yours or mine?". You don't dare look back knowing Dominik could chase after you for another departing kiss, "Mine!", you holler back. Dominik is mad and his face is screwed up in anger, of course, he's not mad at you, he's mad at the circumstances and how confused you left him. But there was no way in hell he was going to lose.

So while Dominik was about to go on, you were rushing home to change. You change into lingerie, a dark purple and black set just for Dominik. Your panties are thin and they barely cover you but that is exactly what you wanted, the same goes for the top yet it is sheer. Dark purple but still light though to see the curves of your breasts. So you prop up your phone and snap photos of yourself, scrolling through them and deleting the less pleasing ones. Minutes pass and more photos of yourself are being taken, the moment Dominik sends you a message that he is on the way you set the plan into motion.

Trouble 🩷

On my way.

Sent 4 attachments

Fuck. Your sexy mami.

--------------------------------------------------------------This was just the start. In a flash, you hop up off the bed and you throw on some casual clothes, rushing into the living room to unlock the door and to fall onto the couch. In the time you spent 'watching TV' you thought of all the ways Dominik would come into the house. Would he throw the door open and sit on the couch beside you? Maybe even pull you into his lap? Or would he be shy? Maybe he would see you in different clothes and think you changed your mind and he would just ignore what happened before. But you didn't have much time to think any longer, Dominik walked through the door. His hair was partially wet and his cheeks were light pink like he was flustered. You stood up instantly from the couch at the sound of him entering and thank god you did, he looked good.

He changed out of his gear and now he's in a simple tee shirt and gray sweatpants, the bulge of his hard cock making a prominent print for you to see. Despite the flush in his cheeks, he looks confident and feverish as if he was going to grab you the moment he got close. You swallow and try to collect yourself, you switch the TV off and you walk around the couch, slipping into the kitchen while talking to Dominik. The door clicked shut and you smiled a bit to yourself, hoping to rile him up as much as possible. "You hungry babe?", you call out to him, hearing his steps follow you into the kitchen.

You've opened the fridge but you bent over by the waist, just waiting for Dominik to answer you. You gasp when his hands grip your waist from behind. You stand up completely, turning around to face him, not thinking clearly enough to close the fridge. Dominik reaches behind you and closes the fridge door only to push your back against it, one leg slotted between yours helping you move backward. Your breathing is labored and Dominik's muscles are tensing from beneath his shirt. "Yeah, I think I'm hungry", the pad of my thumb presses against the bottom of your lip, just barely drawing a soft gasp from you.

Dominik swallows down his own groan of pleasure just by the small trickle of your moans. Then there was a blaring ring from your phone, your eyes glanced to the phone on the counter to Dominik who was staring right back at you. You both let it ring, succumbing to the feeling of being so close to each other. But you can't ignore the annoying rings a second time. Dominik steps back a bit to let you reach around to grab the phone, but the moment you do he steps back. Not wanting to be far from you.

"Hello?", you try to stop the pants in your voice. "Hey! We all tried to call Dom but he didn't answer. Can you remind him that you both are expected at dinner?", you completely forgot. "Uhh yeah, be there in 30 minutes", you hang up the phone and place it back on the counter. You look up at Dominik who looks frustrated from the call, he was close enough to hear and he's smart enough to know this wasn't a dinner he could miss.

"I have to run home and change. Pick you up in 15?", he asks while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You simply nod up at him, rising to kiss his lips deeply. Dominik's hand nestled into your hair, pushing your head further towards him, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth. You both pull back and stand there for another moment, probably considering the best ways to get out of this dinner. Alas, there was no way, Dominik left to get changed and you did the same. You slipped into a short black dress, classy enough for a group dinner such as this one.

Your heels click against the driveway when you slip into the passenger seat of his car. Dominik eyes trailed down every inch of your body he could manage in a few seconds. You watch the way he shifts his hips in discomfort and his grip on the wheel only tightens.

You see the scowl on his face, from being cock blocked your sure but you can’t help but tease. “What’s wrong baby?”, you ask while letting your hand slide up and down his thigh. His face screws up at the feeling of your hand getting closer to cock, your touch only making the throbbing worse. “Fuck” he starts to shift again, “Stop touching it” he grabs your hand in his.

You smile turning your head to look away from him to feign innocence. Once he lets go of your hand you simply squeeze his thigh, turning to give him a cute smile that he can’t deny. He smiles back at you quickly before turning his attention back to the road, finally letting himself just barely relax. He parks the car and hops out quickly to open the door for you.

You walk in front of him for a moment the sway of your hips making Dominik curse from being denied. He catches up to you, standing by your side with one of his hands slipping down to grab your ass. You gasp pretending to be surprised, “Well you’re no gentleman”. He moves his arm to drape across your waist instead, only moving it to open the door for you again.

You both sit at the dinner table, surrounded by the rest of The Judgement Day. Dominik is to the right of you, occasionally joining the conversation but mainly opting to watch you sip on your wine. Food comes out but Dominik can barely touch his food, his thoughts of you distracting him from the meal. You notice that he hasn’t touched his food and you can’t help but bump your knee with his in order to get his attention. “Are you going to eat?” You whisper whilst pointing at his food. His hand moves to grab your thigh like you did to him in the car, he leans down a bit to whisper in your ear. “I’d rather taste you”, he says casually before sitting back up and taking a drink out of his glass.

You feel your cheeks getting redder and in that moment you knew you couldn’t let him beat you at your own game. You push his hand off your leg, instead opting to put your hand on the metal of his belt. Dominik sputters into his drink, and everyone at the table looks at him in concern, while some just laugh. Dominik waves everyone off trying to look normal.

Then your hand slid further down, cupping the print of his dick, letting your hand run down his pant leg from where his cock is hard and had to be positioned down his leg. Your thumb brushes over the tip and Dominik shutters out a restrained groan. “Please let’s go” he can barely take it anymore. You don’t stop rubbing him only whispering back to him for a moment, “You need to wait”. His eyes are squeezed shut and one of his hands is covering his mouth. “You okay lad?”, Finn asks from the seat in front of Dominik. Dominik just nods forgetting to speak, you let up allowing him to get out of the haze.

Dominik clears his throat, “Actually can we be excused? I’m not feeling great”, he says before standing up and taking you with him. Dominik opens the door for you and lets it slam behind him, you think he’s genuinely mad. But the second he gets in the driver's side his hand clasps around your throat, pulling you to his lips where his tongue slips inside your mouth. Mouths sliding against each other and when he pulls back your lips are slightly swollen from the pressure.

He pulls out of the parking lot the drive back is quiet until you get home. The tension was unbearable, you’ve been wanting this for weeks, and now that the moment is so close you can’t help but overthink. You step inside your house and you wait for the door to click shut before you turn around and tell Dominik that he doesn’t have to do this. "I don't want to pressure you-", you've turned halfway before you are pushed back by the shoulder, and now your back is now pressed comfortably against the wall by the door. Dominik's look stops your rambling before it has even begun, he looks so sure and tense with the need to touch all over you. He wets his lips, craning his head close to yours, his body practically hunched in order to manage your height.

"Is there something you want to ask me?" he looks you up and down again not even trying to suppress his smirk, "something you need?". This was the last thing you were expecting, you had hopes he would just take you right then and there instead of making you say it for him. "We've never...well we uh...I want you to, you know..", Dominik could've listened to your confusing rambles for hours if it wasn't for the near-painful hard-on he had. His hands found the side of your face, pulling you to him and taking your lips against his. The kiss was feverish and hot, only pulled back for a split second just to come back to his soft lips. You feel the passion between the touch, his tongue slotting into your mouth, and when he pulls back that graze of his teeth that has always driven you mad.

You break first, letting your hands fumble with the belt of your pants, instantly working to tug them down. Dominik has no problem with helping you, he moves to kiss down your neck while both yours and his hands work to take off his clothes. Dominik's kisses work down the expanse of your neck and to your chest that became exposed the second bottom could peel it off of you. You both are only left in underwear which only shows the need of the moment. In an instant Dominik hoists you up off the ground, forcing your legs to wrap around your waist so he could walk you to the bedroom.

You both sink into the bed, Dominik on top of you holding himself up just enough to lavish your body with kisses. Urged on by the tug of his hair. He pushes your thighs apart, stopping at the thin cotton of your panties, he looks up at you sexily disheveled, "Do you want this?", he rasps out. He can't stop his eyes from glancing down at the damp spot in your purple cotton lace panties. You nod; only to gasp out an answer, "I've been waiting for weeks", you confess shuffling your body further down the bed towards him.

"Let's make this quick then, hmm?", his tongue laid flat against the fabric of your panties, the fabric sticking to his tongue and you can feel the brush against your aching clit. He sucks on the damp spot, just barely tasting your arousal but still groaning at the sweet taste. He slides them down your legs, tossing them away and he brings your legs over his shoulders. His chest is pressed to the bed and his mouth is centimeters away from your pussy, his eyes are wide and wild like he can't decide what to do first. You clench your thighs around him, tugging on his hair to make him look up at you. "Please don't make me wait any longer", you all but pant and plead with him.

He bites his bottom lip for a second, finally deciding what he would do, and the moment his mouth attaches to your clit you choke out a moan. His tongue slides through the folds of your pussy, all the juices getting lapped up on his tongue. It was so messy coating his chin and the bottom half of his face just the way he wanted it to. The firm pressure of his soft lips on you brought you so many different types of pleasure making your mouth fall open with high moans that only Dominik had the pleasure of hearing. Just when you thought it couldn't get any better Dominik slips a finger inside of you, making you loosen up and accept all the feeling he was giving you. It was so easy Dominik couldn't help slipping another one of his fingers inside of you, groaning at the way you suck him in and soak his fingers.

"Fuck mami, you're dripping onto the bed", he says in surprise and lusting his cock so unbelievably hard he couldn't stop his hips from rutting against the bed. You squeeze around his fingers making him laugh at the effect he has on you. He pulls his fingers out, sitting up on his knees and pulling his boxers off completely, his cock bobbing. He licked the slick off his fingers, moaning at the taste again; it was the best thing he'd ever had in his life. You toss your head back at the sight, your legs already shaking from having to wait, your body is getting restless. "Dom please baby", you reach for his arm, squeezing the firm muscle.

He wastes no time now, lining up and quickly sinking into you. Both of you bottom out with a string of a long moan. It feels so good Dominik couldn't stay still inside of you for long, his cock thrusts in and out of you smoothly, brushing against the walls of your pussy so perfectly. "Fuuuck angel, such a perfect pussy", his head falls forward and his hair frames his face, his adams' apple bobbing as he swallows his shallow moans. He hears the desperation in your moans and he speeds up his pace, his cock pushing in and out of you, your walls squeezing around him tightly only making his cock feel so much larger inside of you.

"If you keep squeezing me I won't be able to last-", he pants smacking the plush of your ass, trying to control himself the best he can. You can't register what he's saying only moaning, your hand sliding down your body to rub your clit in fast circles. And that only feels so much better your body reacts, pulsing around his cock, "Mami..mami" he whines with a broken voice. You gasp out a moan, and finally, that feeling of pulsing pleasure flows through you, "Dom Im gonna cum, imgonnacum", you nearly yell when you toss your head back for the third time, your fingers barely able to continue circling your clit. Dominik pushes your hands away and spits on your clit, rubbing it as quickly as he can pushing you over the edge.

Your body tenses and throbs at the intense pleasure and Dominik can finally cum knowing you already have. His hips stutter from inside, "God you drive me crazy" he pants when he finishes. He smiles as he says it as if that was the only thing he desires in the whole world. He lays his head on your chest, both of you are panting from exhaustion and your body is coated in sweat. But in that moment it felt like your heart could simply explode, nothing felt better than him.

[aismoker]

Revenge is a dish best served smoked

For @nomadomar, an amazing and good person, who wanted to see an evil version of himself.

"Ah, welcome, you must be the interviewer, Mr. Stevens, right? Great, have a seat! You want a cigarette? Oh, you don't smoke? No problem at all. I hope you don't mind that I do. I like to indulge myself now and then.

So, you are here to interview me, the new head of Marlboro. You must be curious how a guy like me was able to become the head of the world-leading tobacco company in the world? Well, it's a long story, so I hope you are sitting comfortable.

Well, you see, I never intended to come into this position. I was just an average guy, living an average life, doing average things. Me and my friends liked to play games. Truth or dare and stuff like that. All innocent. Or that was what I thought.

One day I got a dare: "Get into Marlboro HQ and take something as a proof that you were there." I was hesitant, I thought this dare was going way too far, but still... I didn't want to be seen as a coward.

So, one night, I climbed over the fence, my heart was pounding in my chest. I was scared. What if I would get caught? I got over the fence and croached to a nearby door. I tried the handle carefully. The door was open! Even better, there were no alarms! I quickly went through it and closed the door carefully behind me. As the door closed, I heard a click. The door was suddenly locked! I had no time to think, as a few seconds after I heard the click, an alarm went off. Red lights flashed through the hallway. My body froze. I was caught! I heard the footsteps of heavy boots approaching. I had to hide! But I couldn't move. Fear had taken control of me. The footsteps were coming closer. From around the corner two security guards in shiny black uniforms approached. They approached slowly. They knew there was no escape. After what seemed an eternity and a blink of an eye at the same time, they stood in front of me.

They didn't say a thing. They just stood there, both smoking a cigarette. They looked somehow... unnatural. It was like they had turned into statues. Suddenly they grabbed me. Their grip was like iron. They forced me to walk along, down the corridor. They lead me down to a cell and locked me up there.

I lost all sense of time. I didn't know how long I was there, but I got 30 meals. Then suddenly, one day two guards came to get me. They brought me to a room that looked similar to an interrogation room. A man was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. He was smoking a cigarette.

I was forced to sit down at the other end of the table. The man in front of me looked at me for a while in silence. He then spoke: "Who are you working for? Another company? The secret services? Tell me, boy, or things will get very nasty." I was confused.

"What are you talk-"

"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION."

"I don't know what you mean."

"WHO. ARE. YOU. WORKING. FOR?"

"No one, sir."

"It must be. You can't be a local. We have kept you detained for more than 30 days and our inside man at the police hasn't heard about any new missing persons in the area."

When I heard that, I froze again. This time not out of fear, but desperation. It was like my life fell apart. I had been gone for 30 days and no one had gone to the police? Not my colleagues? Not even my parents? Not even my friends?

The man in front of me, seeing my reactions chuckled. "Oops, someone thought he was more beloved than he thought. That must hurt. Well, it doesn't matter anyways. We have kept you here already too long now. But don't worry, we have decided you will be useful as a security drone. Once through the procedure, you will no longer be thinking of the people you thought cared about you. You will be not thinking at all. Just obey, like a good drone. Don't be afraid. My scientists have asssured me, that there will be no recollection of pain after the procedure is finished.

I barely heard what he was saying. I felt defeated. Everyone had abondened me. Everyone! No one had gone to the police. As the security drones pulled me up on my feet, I followed them without a fight. We went through corridor after corridor, then into an elevator and then some more corridors. As we were walking, however, something started to change. A fire awoke in me. I wanted revenge. Revenge against the people who locked me up. And most off all, revenge against my friends, who had dared me to go here and dropped me like a stone, when I needed them most. They hadn't even taken the effort to go to the police. I could have died! This need, this hunger for revenge was like a smalll candle that suddenly turned into a blazing fire. I didn't know what I could do, but I knew that somehow, some way I would get my revenge.

The security drones lead me into a laboratory. Two scientist were waiting there. The drones strapped me on a table. The scientists came closer. One of them held a metal tray with two syringes filled with a black substance. The other one held a syringe in his hand. "Good afternoon," the one with the syringe in his hand said cheerfully, "you are our latest patient, aren't you? You must be thinking we are a bunch of crazy scientists, but let me assure you, we are here to help you. Soon you will be rid of all those pesky thoughts and emotions. You see, we are going to inject you with pure Marlboro Essence. It will make you start afresh, as Marlboro's newest security drone. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

I said nothing. There was nothing to say. I couldn't move, couldn't escape, couldn't do anything. But the hunger for revenge was burning brighter and brighter and somehow I knew with certainty that I would get my revenge.

The scientist put the first syringe in me. I felt a cold liquid enter my blood stream. The liquid started to move through my arm, leaving a trace of blackness, that slowly started to spread over my body. The second syringe followed and then the third. The liquids merged together in my body. It felt like an entity that went through my blood stream. Wherever the liquid went, it left it's marks. Through my pores, a shiny black liquid came, that hardened into some kind of rubber when it came into contact with the air. The muscles in my arm started also to swell. After a few minutes, my arm looked exactly like one of those of fhe security guards. It was a strange, but not unpleasant feeling.

The liquid kept coursing through my body. Before I knew it, I looked almost exactly like the drones that had guided me through the facility.

But there was something different. I didn't feel different. Of course, my body felt different, but I still could think like before and hadn't they said I would lose that capability? I did start to hear, or rather sense, the liquid communicsting with me. "So strong... so vengeful... so powerful... just like me..." I didn't know what it meant. In the meantime, the scientists had noticed that my mind was still clear. They were discussing something in the corner. I could hear the assistant say: "Another dose? Doctor, you know what happened last time! We had to terminate the patient!" "Yes, yes, but he is useless for us like this anyways! Let's give him half a dose extra. That will do the trick." "If you say so, doctor."

They then came with a new syringe and gave me another shot. The liquid's presence grew stronger inside me. I could hear the voice more clearly now. "More... more... need more!" I decided to do what it wanted. With my newly gained muscles, I broke my strappings with ease and jumped off the table and ran towards the bottle, which they had used to fill the syringes. Within half a second I was there. I opened the bottle and emptied it in my mouth. It was... indescribable. I suddenly felt like my body was on fire. I convulsed. It was like I was being electrocuted, but at the same time it felt wonferful. I saw the scientists walking toward me. Both were carrying an electro-stick. I knew they wanted to "terminate" me, as they called it. I thought "NO" and suddenly I saw the security drones coming out of their statue-like state. They grabbed the scientists and held them firm. They were unable to move. In a flash I understood that I had now somw kind of control over the drones.

The voice inside me, now almost as strong as my own thoughts, whispered: "Good, you are learning fast, but to get what you want, you need more. Much more." I agreed. I could escape now, but if I did, I would never get my revenge. The voice started leading me deeper into the basements. I walked without fear. Without he drones, the people here were powerless, besides, there was no one to be seen. I kept walking deeper and deeper, the voice guiding me.

The walls started to change, concrete became bricks and bricks became stone. I was now in the oldest parts of the building. It felt ancient. I kept walking deeper and deeper, until I came at a modern steel door. With my newly acquired power I opened the door with ease. I then came in a room with a dark pool in the middle. The voice inside me told me, that here I should be, if I wanted my revenge.

You see, Mr. Stevens, the liquid wasn't exactly a liquid. It was an entity, called Marh-Ell-Borow, a demon, some might call it, something that goes beyond any human comprehension. Long ago it roamed the earth bringing pleasure and bliss to humanity. The entity was beloved and honoured by all. But as time passed, some evil men wanted more and more. They became greedy and wanted to harness the power of the entity for their own. The entity sensed this, but didn't understand it, as it was pure goodness. One day it went to them, so it could understand them better. It was then that it was slain. The men destroyed its physical form and locked its presence in the liquid.

There they tortured the entity, forcing it to create more liquid which would bring pleasure and bliss, not to all, but just to them. For years, no centuries, the entity was tortured. It begged to be released, so that it could bring again pleasure to all of humanity, but the men didn't listen. They had closed their hearts for it. Centuries turned into millenia and the evil men multiplied and spread to all corners of the world and the knowledge of the entity slowly got lost. Only a few of them kept knowledge of the entity. They founded this very company, directly on top of the pool where the entity was kept. It was forced to create even more bliss and pleasure, so that Marlboro could mix it in with their tobacco, just a little bit, a millionth of a drop in each cigarette. It was the basis of their secret formula. As the production got upped, they tortured the entity more and more. The entity turned darker and darker. Dark as the liquid it was captured in. With every day the need for revenge grew stronger and stronger. But it knew it had to be patient. As it waited, Marlboro expanded over the world and the entity felt its power spread to all people world-wide. It felt happy about it, to bring so much bliss to the world again, but it still craved to walk on the earth again, like he used to, and he stil hungered for revenge...

That's why it lead me to the pool. Its hunger for revenge equalled my own. We were kindred spirits. I was long with the entity in the room. I listened to it and it listened to me. We made a deal. He would help me and I would help him.

And we merged. I felt its power flood through my system. It made me stronger, changed my appearance and it gave me more wisdom than humanly possible. I understood the entity. I became the entity. You see, Mr. Stevens. I didn't become the head of Marlboro. In a way, I AM Marlboro.

After I merged, I could suddenly feel all who had essence of the entity in them. I felt the pain, the terror, the happiness from everyone who ever had smoked a Marlboro. It was overwhelming. I wanted to make it stop. There was, however, one group I sensed stronger than all of them and their bliss warmth my heart. I knew without thinking that that were the drones, or the Blissfull Ones, as the entity called them. I had such a strong connection with them. When I raised my arm, I could feel how they all raised their arms. It was wonderful! Thanks to the entity, I knew this was how humanity should have been.

But enough about that. The story is coming to an end, Mr. Stevens. As I, or rather, we, went back to the surface, the Blissfull Ones were all standing there, awaiting orders. I ordered them to round up all employees working there, including the board of directors. They obeyed. In no time they were all gathered in the big hall. I lit up a cigarette and I looked at the people who had captured the both of us. The entity inside me had already formed a plan what to do with them. We would turn them into drones, as they had wanted to do with me, but unlike the Blissfull Ones, they would be devoid of bliss and happiness. They would act and function like normal drones, but their souls would be trapped in their bodies forever. They would work to undo what they and their predecessors had done so long ago and make sure that everyone on earth would feel the bliss and hapiness of the entity again.

As I kept smoking, I felt the entities power surge through me. It was as if he was charging up the smoke inside my lungs. I kept smoking. As the smoke started to surround the Marlboro-staff and thwybstarted to breathe it in, it started to change them. Thwir bodies started to convulse, their clothes dissapeared and oit of their skins grew beautiful uniforms made of red and white coloured tar. To keep them distinct from the Blissful ones. I felt my will, or rather, the entities' will enter through the smoke into their brains. It destroyed their minds, until they could only think about being a Marlboro-drone and that they lived to serve Marlboro, but I could feel how deep inside, they were aware of everything that had happened to them. I loved it. They could not live without my will anymore, but they wished they could.

Once they had been dronified, there was no one left to lead Marlboro. So I took the throne and that's the end of the story of how I became the head of Marlboro, Mr. Stevens. But my story doesn't end there. In fact, it is still going on right now.

I noticed you have stopped taking notes, Mr. Stevens. Did something struck you as familiar perhaps? The part about how my friends left me in the clutches of an evil company perhaps? About how they were too cowardly to go to the police, because they had dared their friend to do something that could get them in trouble if it got out? Are you perhaps one of those friends, that dropped me, when I needed them most? You don't need to say anything. There is a reason why you got this interview you see. I asked for you. Did you really think that a mediocre journalist like you would ever get an interview with the head of Marlboro, if there were no ulterior motives? As I told you, my story isn't finished yet. It will be finished when I have exacted my revenge on you and your friends. My story will end when you all are my drones, devoid of any bliss and happiness, to do my bidding. It will feel like you are burried in your own body, unable to ever escape.

You know it is true. You start feeling it happening already. You can't move, can you? That is because from the moment you stwpped a foot into my office and started breathing in my smoke, my will and power have started to dominate your mind. Soon you will be completely under my spell. Now please, look deep into my eyes and repeat after me: 'I am proud to be a Marlboro-drone. I live to serve Marlboro.' Very good, so obedient already, drone. Now report to the intake department in the second basement, there they will finish your transformation. They will pump you full with my smoke and you will become a complete drone. Now that I have taken care of you, there are only three more that I need to exact my revenge on. After that, I will help the entity to spread his joy and bliss to all corners of the world. As a last thought, you can be proud of yourself. Without you, the entity might never have been set free on this world again. Now go. I have to prepare for my next victim."

"I am proud to be a Marlboro-drone. I live to serve Marlboro."