#but alas I could never be as cool as him

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

The-Sass-Stance™

For when you gotta let the people know you mean serious business, with an extra pinch of sass for good measure😉

[deus-ex-mona]

my five surviving braincells when something remotely good happens:

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 4 :)

[seagullcharmer]

blaaaargh < once again working on designing an alternate ghirahim

[greatprotector-if]

fell back into my stardew valley obsession (this time with mods!) and god i want to replicate this feeling so badly with tgp. that is my ultimate goal

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

[cheesus-doodles]

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‎

i like my repressed christian boys a lot if yall can't tell ;-;, couldn't pass up on this....tr will be back on schedule next!

Rollo Flamme never imagined himself as simply ordinary. He had always been destined to be extraordinary, committed and focused, willing to put in the work to achieve perfection. Yes, there was no doubt that there were ways to go to meet his goals, seeing as his fire lily plan went up in flames on first contact with that wretched Malleus Draconia and his Night Raven buddies despite his months of meticulous planning and careful scheming.

Yet here he was, walking at a speed Rollo hoped didn’t divulge how fast his heart was pounding away, your letter carefully tucked away deep within his robes, pressed right up against his chest. Green eyes concentrated on nothing but his next step, his poker-face and overall reputation as the Student Council President a god-sent for keeping unwanted attention away as he cut a path through the school towards his room, hands clasped in front of him as they always were. 

Outside the gates of Noble Bell College, Fleur City was as lively as ever, the hustle and bustle of a city coming back to life under the gentle evening sun echoed throughout the conversely silent campus as people enjoyed busking in the remaining sunlight after a long day of work. It was an exceptionally cool day too, the white-haired boy noted to himself, the breeze sweeping down the hallways and bursting forth into the open air strong enough to lift the ends of his robes.

A respectful mumble of “Rollo-kaicho” rose from the scatter of students milling around as he walked past, though nothing that a returned nod of acknowledgement couldn’t settle.

The peacefulness that blanketed the stately campus as the sun sank further and further down the horizon reminded him much of the night of the Young Mage’s Social ball, and more so, you. Rollo could recall that particular evening with perfect clarity, the sights and sounds replaying again in his head as the purple-clad mage made his way indoors, the old wooden door swinging shut behind him with nay a creak, shutting out both the wind and the sounds of the city.

‎

His own footsteps were the only sound ringing across otherwise empty corridors as the boy turned the situation he had found himself unexpectedly stuck in over and over again in his mind. It had never been his intention to fall over his own set trap, yet how was it he did so anyway despite all his wariness and discipline?

This had all begun as a plot for revenge right after he had been bested, by villains no less. It would be hard for Rollo to even admit that he had come to terms with the beating he received several months ago, let alone the night after it happened, and his next plot had already begun to hatch the moment you swept into view dressed in your masquerade costume, accompanied by none other than Malleus himself. From everything he witnessed, it was clear that the Draconia housewarden cared greatly for you, and dare he guess, maybe even had some unexpressed feelings for you. 

Not that he hadn’t noticed you before that night, but it was certainly the first time that he had come to realize just how central a place you held among the Night Raven College students, and how crucial a card you would be in his next plan to wipe that smug smirk off of that wretched fae prince’s face.

The night of the Young Mages’ Social ball had been surprisingly ordinary, given what had just happened. He had been exhausted and dead on his feet, even if he showed no sign of it outwardly; the orderliness of the hall that he painstakingly cleaned after the last fire lotus had withered was a welcomed sight. Alas there was no time for sleep, not that it would matter given his already heavy eyebags. But despite his state, you had instantly caught his eye at the start of the ball, quietly huddled towards the back of the Night Raven group, trying your best to look anywhere but at him or at the rest of the crowd as you and your friends were singled out as the saviors of Fleur City. And it was obvious that you were feeling even more out-of-place as the dance began in earnest, though whether it was from the crowds or just general awkwardness, Rollo could not say.

Taking his leave from the merrymaking, the white-haired Council President could find no surprise within him when he found you sitting alone later outside of the hall, enjoying the peace and quiet that had fallen over the city with the arrival of night, looking up at the blanket of stars, a glass of what looked like juice in your hand.

“May I join you?”

You had jumped at his words, though you did settle quickly upon realizing it was just him for reasons unbeknownst to Rollo. “By all means,” you replied, waving him down to join you. After all, he did just try to essentially kill your friends and all mages in general. Perhaps you knew something he didn’t, the purple-clad student mused to himself, subtly watching you from the corner of his pale green eyes. Or perhaps you were just presumptuous, given you hadn’t been affected as badly as the rest.

The dark sky was clear of clouds, the dark of space dotted with twinkles as far as the eye could see, the moon hanging alone amidst the barren sky; an alluring sight for weary souls - and judging from how discreetly you had excused yourself from the social, you definitely were tired. 

A pause as Rollo took a seat a respectful distance from you. “Too much?”

You nodded. “Too much.”

Whatever it was, you seemingly held no ill will towards Rollo, simply accepting his quiet company. And so the two of you sat in comfortable silence as the young mages danced and laughed the night away just a stone’s throw away. The minutes melted into hours as the world continued to turn, though the calmness of the reality around him was a far cry from the turmoil of thoughts within his head. 

When the night started to grow old and the cacophony of noises began to die down, it was as if an unheard bell had gone off, and you reluctantly stood, empty glass now in hand - your friends were bound to come looking for you should they notice you were missing. And with you leaving soon and that night being the last one you were spending at Noble Bell College, it was finally time to launch the first phase of his plan.

”I would like to write to you,” Rollo started, immediately cringing internally as the words left his lips, but there was no going back now. “If it is alright with you.”

He held his breath as you considered his request, your head cocking to the side as you contemplated. “Sure, why not?” You shrugged, shooting him a light smile, your hair gleaming in the waning moonlight. “Goodnight, Rollo.”

Exhale. And that was that.

‎

But now here he was, Rollo mused, eagerly anticipating the opportunity to read your letter alone. Has his plan gone astray? He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts of you, just till he could be alone. For all his routine and self-discipline, you were the one temptation he couldn’t seem to get squash down.

Coming to a pause at the fork in the hallway, the Noble Bell Council President paused. The last thing he wanted was to be interrupted tonight in the midst of his much-needed analysis of your letter, so against the burning desires of his heart and the weight of your letter heavy in his robes, he forced himself to take a detour, his feet carrying him down sparse corridors towards the councilrooms. It was easy to spot his Vice President still hard at work amidst the otherwise empty room, scouring through a stack of papers at his desk, head down and pen scribbling away.

A quiet clearing of his throat was enough to get the attention of the occupant inside. “Rollo-kaicho!” Said student rocketed up from his seat, hurriedly adjusting his slipping striped cap. “What brings you here at this time of day?”

“I wanted to check in before I retired for the day,” replied the white-haired boy, giving a courteous glance to the rest of the unoccupied desks before returning his gaze to the other. “Is there anything I should know about?”

The Noble Bell Vice President stuttered for a moment, lost for words and wrecking his tired brain in an attempt to find what to say. “I-uh-“

Pulling out his celestial-patterned handkerchief, his movement just barely managed to cover the disgusted look that fell over his expression, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing as the stench of magic overwhelmed his senses, though Rollo still managed to keep his tone neutral. Even if he was the one to initiate contact, that hardly made a difference with his nausea. “It’s fine,” the magic-adverse mage managed to grit out without a hint of distaste, his tone as neutral as it always has been. “Please have the points ready for me tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Rollo-kaicho. I apologize again.”

‎

Finally being able to lock his room door behind him brought a relief much like cold water over hot iron, ending the depraved pulsing in his mind that the mere presence of the envelope in his robes against his chest brought on with every passing second. Tossing the heinous paper carelessly onto his well-worn table top, Rollo instead hurriedly picked it back up again, pale green eyes scanning for any further damage he had caused, though fortunately there was none to be found.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the white-haired boy settled into his chair. Now, to satisfy both his curiosity and anticipation.

Trembling fingers carefully peeled open the envelope, revealing a slightly yellowed, unevenly folded paper much to Rollo’s chagrin - he would have much preferred if you used a perfect white piece of paper, quality stationery instead of this random piece you must have had left over from your homework, and if you had folded it the same way he did all this time. But he supposed he couldn’t expect that high a standard from you, given the riff-raff of mages you found yourself in the company of. As he gently freed your letter from its paper enclosure, his sensitive nose caught a whiff of a familiar scent, the smell probably having lingered on from when you first mailed it out.

The light fragrance of your favorite shampoo, Rollo deduced, bringing the paper up to his nose. He recognized it, no matter how faint it was. You must have just finished showering when you wrote and sealed the letter if the aroma still endured. A breath of fresh air amidst the rank odor of magic and mages.

And then he began to read.

Dear Rollo, the letter began as it always did, those two words enough to have his heart skip a beat like nothing else could. But this time, the next few that followed were even better. Your letter came late, and it was sorely missed.

Line by line, you spelled out your daily ongoings, your interactions with your fellow schoolmates, your inner thoughts. Rambling about anything and everything that came to mind, thoughts spilling out without filter straight onto paper. About how Grimm (that filthy magic cat) nearly failed his test again and about how Deuce and Ace got into their latest spat of trouble with their housewarden Riddle. About how Jack and Epel were like to work with on your history project, and how you felt about one of your lunches being stolen by Leona.

Just like that, the minutes slipped through his finger, and with a pang in his heart, Rollo came to the end of your letter.

He placed the paper down on the paper, taking a breath.

How was it that he could feel so attached to another person through a simple piece of paper? How did you ensnare him so effortlessly, bypassing his hard-fought discipline as if it didn’t exist? Did all this mean that his revenge plot against Malleus had already gone awry?

‎

The night was cool and quiet, the moonlight that shone through his stained glass windows bringing the Noble Bell Council President back to that fateful night. A light gust of wind seeped in through a small crack, creaking the old wooden panels in the floor as it blew through his room. 

Your writing had improved, Rollo noted, as per his guidance in his previous letter. You were using a ruler to ensure straight lines, and your handwriting had neaten greatly; a far cry from your first reply to him, the memory of those scrawling letters that ran up and done and every-which way except straight across the paper still causing shivers to run down his spine. That was bad.

Carefully and painstakingly refolding the paper, Rollo stood, returning it to its envelope before moving to stow the letter within his secret compartment above the fireplace, with previous letters neatly arranged upright according to date received. His fingers lightly brushed past all your correspondence with him, his chest fluttering at your willingness to speak with him, his mind already churning with how and what he should reply to you. Would you be interested in perhaps coming back to Noble Bell? Maybe he should visit Night Raven College? Even if that blasted Draconia was there, it would be worth it just to have some private, personal time with you, the white-haired mage calculated, his hand tapping an unknown rhythm across his desk that he now leaned against.

‎

There was no point in denying his obsession with you, not at this point - it had been awhile since you started to occupy his every waking moment and thoughts, and being as organized and detailed as Rollo was, he could pinpoint the exact moment when he began to spiral. Sure, his first letter had been full of nothings, meaningless pleasantries and stories that he polished to perfection over the course of a night of restlessness. But what he got back was your heart on your sleeve, your mind like an open book for him to pick apart and examine.

As things turned out, the more he picked, the more he found. Questions he sent always came back answered, with you evidently letting slip more than you intended to originally say, sometimes directly and sometimes when he read between the lines. 

A single line in your third reply to him was all it took to begin his unending slide. 

You were from a different world.

The more he sat on it, turning it around and round in his mind, the more his chest grew warm, and you began his center of focus. Even the mere passing pondering of what you were doing now was enough to grip Rollo’s entire being, to have his heart rate increase and his thoughts to jumble. After all, in this foul, tainted world, there could be no purer person than someone who came from a place where no magic exists.

You were perfection embodied. 

In a twist of fate, you turned out to be pure, a shining beacon amidst the foul-smelling heathens. A gift from the heavens, a blessings from the divine meant for none other than him, that no one could properly appreciate except for him. Sure you weren’t the most orderly, and you did have your moments where you were occasionally wowed by magic, especially the inhuman feats from that wretched Malleus Draconia, but you remained untainted despite your constant proximity to the taint of magic that surrounded and cloaked you as if a heavy fog. Never indicated anything more than a passing interest in the magic that your companions wielded and an admiration that Rollo was sure he could rid you off. All you needed was time away from those mages, spent instead in his company.

‎

Stepping away from his desk and moving now towards his personal bathroom, Rollo came to the answer he had been looking for as the boy moved to undress himself for a nighttime shower. It had been in front of him all this time.

The answer was no. 

No, he hadn’t forsaken his plan to wield you against Malleus; sure the exact details had changed as the months went by, but everything he did was as he had schemed. Just that now, you didn’t have to be a means to an end, you didn’t need to be just another casualty wrecked up amidst his crusade against the villains. Stealing you away from the fae prince would be one of the largest blows he could deal with to that condescending prick, the beginning of his downfall - the excitement tingling at Rollo’s arms as he imagined the crestfallen expression that would twist Draconia’s face, the streak-free bathroom mirror reflecting the pale green eyes that lighted up in callous pleasure.

It would be glorious.

But for now, Rollo determined, schooling his face back into its usual neutral look as he turned to step into the shower room, what he needed to concentrate on was his next letter to you.

[dcxdpdabbles]

the photo au just has me thinking that lady gotham is shipping dead tired and i love it

(it's a change of pace from her shipping dead on main so that's cool too)

"King Phantom," Danny jumps, not expecting the raspy voice to call from the dark alley he was passing. He turns his gaze to the shadows, squinting as a woman made entirely of smoke and tar takes form, towering over him like the skyscrapers of her city.

His head barely reaches the knees of her dark grey dress. Her outline flickers in the air as if she is nothing but the smoke of a flickering candle about to be blown away.

Despite her aristocracy beauty- her high cheekbones, her smooth skin, and lovely dark curls that fall along her shoulders- her presence inspires a terrible amount of dread.

Around him, people continue to walk by, unable to see her but sensing her all the same. Danny quickly moves off the street, entering the alley of darkness- at once, the city's noise is silenced while the two power ghosts are muted in a safe little bubble.

"Lady Gotham," He greets, bowing his head slightly. It's not quite a nod, for that would be too dismissive of a noble lady, but it's not a complete bow, for that would mean she is higher ranked than he.

"How are you enjoying my domain, your majesty?" Lady Gotham breathes her voice, sending chills down his spine.

"It's lovely. My sister and I are truly enjoying exploring it. I particularly enjoy photographing the scenary." He says, keeping the unease out of his voice. Her black-painted lips pull upwards into a smirk as if amused by his attempt at diplomacy.

If there is one thing Danny has learned, it is that while he is the King Of Ghosts, that doesn't mean he has absolute power- politically wise. Many entities have domains for centuries that have, through those years, earned nobility status among the ghosts.

He couldn't just scorn the noble ghosts. Even Pariah Dark- the most potent ghost of all time- was defeated the first time when the nobles- later renamed Ancients- banned together to take him down.

Lady Gotham was not among those Ancients, but Danny knew she could quickly call upon her allies and dethrone him just as easily. If Danny is a King, she would be the Queen of a neighboring kingdom just gearing up for war if he fumbles his manners.

"Is it truly the scenery that catches your fancy? Surely, there are far prettier things to look at in my domain?" Lady Gotham's voice is soft, like the humming of a gentle river.

Danny blinks, thrown by the question. "I can't say I understand, my Lady. What pretty things do you speak of?"

She flips open a fan, hiding half of her face as her black coal eyes stare at him with an appraising glint.

Above them, a hiss of a grappling hook springs out, and Red Robin flips over their heads in pursuit of a fleeing car. Danny's finger twitched with the huge to pull out his camera and finally get a meme-worthy shot of the teenager.

Alas, he can not do so, for he is speaking to a ghost noble who could use his careless behavior against him at the next afterlife high society meeting.

Lady Gotham's eyes crinkle in amusement. "I speak of what I find amusing but what others find shocking. What can be entertaining but others call fascinating. After all, trying to capture one's faults is where true beauty is found."

Danny fights to keep his face pleasant even if he has no idea what she means. She speaks in riddles, at least. That's what it sounds like to him.

He should introduce her to Clockework. They would have a good time talking in circles around each other.

"That's an interesting outlook, my lady." He settles on. She hums, then snaps her fingers. In front of Danny, a paper appears, floating in swirls of smoke.

"My King, I have existed long before humans found this plot of land and bestowed the name Gotham onto me. Yet I find myself lacking in any solid evidence of my precious people. I can interact with their world, but I can never truly step into it. Especially the Waynes. They have done so much for me through generations, and I can't even greet them properly." Lady Gotham's words may sound sad, but her tone only implies amusement. Danny is instantly weary. "I was wondering if I could ask that you- the bridge between both worlds- would do me a favor to remedy this."

The paper floats closer, and on it, Danny can see it is an invention for the Wayne Charity Gala. His name is printed on the guest list, asking that he join them for his donations to the art programs around the city.

Danny never made such donations because the Fenton's are far from wealthy enough to do so. Lady Gotham was behind this, as she could interact with the world but not the humans. Getting money for the programs under his name would be child's play.

He couldn't say no, per the norms of high society, and he knows she is well aware of this. Lady Gotham has cornered him.

"What is the favor, My Lady?" He asks, pocketing the invitation even though his insides are twisting.

"I only ask for a photo of each current Wyanes." She says, her voice now the sound of falling rain on the city. "Each photo should be the of them individually, for it will be what I display in my lair as their portraits."

Oh, she just wants pictures? Danny could do that!

"Of course." He says, smiling easily up at her. "I shall have that done for you."

"Excellent. I shall await the gala with anticipation."

Danny leaves the alley wondering if he will have a suit nice enough for the event. He'll have to contact Kitty- she was raising fashion designer before her untimely death on Johnny's bike- surely she will know what to dress him in.

He wanders around the city for a few hours, trying to get better shots of the buildings and accidentally getting one of Nightwing mid-sneeze. He giggles at the camera, unaware of Lady Gotham sitting in her haunt in the dark clouds above the city, standing over a three-dimensional model of Gotham City and covered in figures of real-life citizens currently residing in her town.

"Hmmm, Jason hasn't had an embarrassing photo today," She mutters, pushing the figure of Red Hood in front of King Phantom's glowing figurine's path. Her gaze falls on Red Robin- her little Tim- as it moves across the city following the live model's movement.

His figure is also glowing, not nearly as brightly as the King's, but the fact it shares the King's glow means the King has unknowingly claimed him.

She hopes that pushing them together in his civilian forms will allow the two to realize their hearts have been given to one another.

"How romantic." She sighs, floating onto her stomach and kicking her feet. "A King in love with a Knight. Society pushes them apart, but their love will conquer all."

"Sister, must you behave in such a childish manner?" A voice cuts in, and Lady Gotham's face twitches. She turns her head to watch her brother's shift between adult and child.

"Brother. What brings you here?" She asks, unbothered by his comment.

"Can I not visit my dearest little sister?" Clockwork asks, reaching over for a one-sided hug. She returns it with a smirk. "Especially when she messes with the life of the King."

"I do not know what you speak of." She huffs, turning her head back to the humans on her board. Around her, thousands and thousands of miniature models appear as she watches everything that is meant to be for the humans.

"Karma, you know better than to interfere with King Phantom's life, especially if it's something as silly as his love life-"

"Ah ah, brother dearest. You are in charge of time, and I control fate. " She grins. "I can guarantee that they are fated to be. I know it."

Clockwork rolls his eyes, shifting into an old man. "You let humans call you Lady Gotham. I highly doubt you know anything."

She hums, grinning as King Phantom's figure drops into a crouch, pointing a mini camera at Red Robin. Quickly, she leans forward to adjust the vigilante in an alluring position, knowing it will cause the King's heart to flutter when he develops the photos.

Clockwork clicks his tongue. "Honestly, don't you have anything better to do?"

"You should leave your tower more often, Brother. Maybe you could find a date and not nag your younger sister constantly." She taps her lips. "That young John Constinune was rather interested in you-"

"I am leaving!"

She laughs. "You can't run away from fate, brother!"

"Watch me!"

Oh, she plans to; after all, what is more amusing to fate than to see people try to defy her? Either they succeed, which is fascinating to watch them conquer all her trials, or they fail, which is entertaining enough to watch them fumble.

Master Post Link

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Shanks has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Shanks's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Shanks knows he has no right to ask this question. Not when he's the one that up and left in the middle of the night, without even a word of warning that could soothe your aching heart. Nevertheless, he can't help but indulge his yearning:

"How is she?"

Mihawk raises his eyebrows barely noticeably. He seems surprised that after Shanks's disappearing act and a decade of dead silence, he's still interested in you, even if motivated by pure courtesy. But before Mihawk answers the question, he notices something strange in the red-haired captain's eyes, a sensation he's rarely seen in them before - sadness.

Interesting, how some things never quite change.

"Well," Mihawk answers laconically. Instead of indulging Shanks's lovesick longing, he wishes the man would finally accept his utter failure and move on. You're married to Dracule and this isn't going to change anytime soon. If ever.

"Wells tend to be cold and musty," Shanks jokes but his tone is far from lighthearted. In fact, his voice sounds strained like he's holding back tears. "I hope she fared better with you."

The Red-Hair pirates laugh at their captain's joke but quickly turn quiet again. Something about the tense confrontation makes their good humour virtually nonexistent. Especially when Mihawk gives them a curt, cold glare. He doesn't find his past rivalry with Shank to be funny in any way.

"She has everything she could ask for," he says with a sense of finality to his words. Mihawk feels himself growing irritated.

"Good, good..." Shanks nods, lost in thought for a moment. He clenches his hand, giving away the unpleasant tension inside his chest. The captain has promised himself to let go of you. Alas, here we are. "Is she happy?" he suddenly asks.

Mihawk furrows his thick eyebrows in an angry frown. It's almost insulting for Shanks to have any doubts regarding your well-being under the Warlord's care. "What sort of question is this?"

"A 'yes or no' sort."

"Then yes," he drones his words.

Shanks forces a wide, playful smile. There's agony hiding in his eyes and as though Mihawk is a blind man, he's trying to play it cool and appear unaffected. The truth is, the red-haired man is holding on by a thread.

"I bet she talks about me all the time," Shanks says in faux amusement. His voice almost doesn't shake. "We both know I've always been her favourite."

"And you'd lose." Mihawk begins to feel an insidious satisfaction from the distress of the other man. "In fact, I doubt she thinks about you at all."

"You keep telling yourself that, hawk-eyes."

"This misguided flattery is much unwarranted," Mihawk warns him. "No one bets on losing dogs."

But she would, Shanks thinks to himself. She always did.

Short fingernails leave bruising marks on the inside of Shanks's palm as he's clenching his fist. Once again he's reminded that when it mattered, he was a coward and fled from the overwhelming, crippling love he feels for you. Only know there's no hope, there's no ifs - you belong to another man.

Afternoon sunlight reflects off of Mihawk's gold ring. Shanks glares at it for a moment too long to pass off his intense stare as circumstantial. He can almost hear the mocking laughter of the universe as the consequence of the amalgamation of his bad choices is merely two meters away from him. There is nothing he wouldn't give up to turn back the time and make sure that things go differently, that he never became afraid of being too deep in love.

But time, like the seas, has no master.

_____

I was so torn about this one, I couldn't decide until the very end, so if you want to read a version where the scenario is flipped and Shanks is the 'lucky guy', just hit me up.

[lurochar]

Human Alastor x ex wife reader

Where Alastor gets divorced after the reader finds out about his murders, but still can't stop coming back to him

I Still Love You

I hope you're a little satisfied with this, Anon I find it hard to write endings that aren't soft

18+ MDNI

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

“I missed you.”

You stare down at the messy sheets beneath you with glazed eyes, having heard what Alastor had murmured into your ear.

You don't know what to say back (you do, you're just scared to say it out loud), but Alastor doesn't give you any more time to think about what to do next.

“H-hah! Please!”

You don't know what you're pleading for when Alastor handles you until you are on your back and he throws your legs over his broad shoulders and you can feel the burn in your muscles from the sudden stretch.

“Tell me, Darling,” Alastor strokes your cheek and you feel your eyes tear for two different reasons. He rubs his cock through your soaked folds, bumping your clit with every upward motion and you let out a mewl before you could help it, “are you happy now? Have you moved on from me?”

Why are you here?

Why did you come back?

It’s a very good question and any sane person would be asking you that if they knew the horrors that had, and likely still are, taking place in this very house and on the surrounding property.

Alastor didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed satisfied and pleased that you are back in the house you very recently used to call home (and still very much should, in his opinion) and he did not bother to conceal it.

“Happy?” You let the tears fall, from a complex blend of pleasure, heartache, longing, and love. “I was happy with you–!?”

Alastor thrusts his cock in smoothly, sighing in content at how warm you feel around him. He missed this, missed the feel of you and your body pressed against his, missed your adorable words of love, missed every little bit of this.

He had never intended for you to find out.

“H-happy with you.” You dug your nails into Alastor’s back, intending on finishing what you were saying. You threw your head back and your toes curled when Alastor slid his arm down to rub tight little circles on your clit. “B-but I… I was scared! I couldn't… liVE in a house w-where people– people were murDERED!”

You just wanted to sink into the bed and under the covers with how pitchy and breathy your tone was. Clearly, you shouldn't attempt full sentences when on the verge of an orgasm.

Alastor places his forehead against yours so you have nowhere else to look but his face. “I would never harm you, dearest. I would never hurt you.” His thrusts quicken as he searches for that spot that drives you wild. “I even granted you that… divorce.” He spat the word out like poison. “I hoped that once your head cooled, that perhaps…”

You whimpered when he flicked your clit, leaning down to nibble at your throat. “I…” You tangled your hand through Alastor’s hair, tugging lightly at the strands and causing the man to groan. “I still do…” Your voice was hoarse and your eyes rolled back when Alastor found your sweet spot and repeatedly slammed into it without mercy.

“Fuck.” Alastor could feel you fluttering around his cock and felt a bolt of heat rush through him at the sight of your debauched expression. “You still what, Darling? Tell me.”

You cried out when Alastor lifted you up by the nape of your neck, cutting off the wail of your orgasm as he frantically pressed his lips against yours, groaning at the tight clenching of your slick cunt around his cock.

“A-ah.” You let out a noise when you felt a rush of warmth and Alastor hit his own end as he let out a sigh. You swallow anxiously, but know you won't have the nerves to do this again. “I still love you, Alastor.”

Alastor’s expression softened, though he let out a chuckle. “I hoped that this was about when you showed up here. I don't believe you had any housing or money issues.”

You stared at him, suddenly feeling a little suspicious. “What do you know?”

Alastor simply raised a brow in response. “Do you believe Mimzy let you room with her out of the goodness of her heart? I know she was giving you time to ‘heal’ before putting you to work in her speakeasy, but I did slip her a few bills weekly so she wouldn't change her mind.”

You gaped at Alastor, feeling a bit stupid this went right under your nose without you noticing. Then again, entire murders had been happening and you had no idea.

“Why did you let me go?” You asked, looking away. “I knew. I knew about it. I could have gone to the police at any time and told them about you.”

Alastor looked almost thoughtful. “Did you do as I asked that night before you ran? Try to find past news articles about the ‘victims’ of the so-called Bayou Butcher?” He then shook his head. “I would never harm you.” He then repeated. “Mimzy would have informed me if you were going to the police. I would have disappeared before they could do anything.”

You nodded slowly after a moment. “They… they were all awful men. Abusers, rapists, even a few murderers.” You stared at Alastor. “Are you… specifically targeting these men?”

“Yes. You may not like to hear this, but I enjoy it. I enjoy inflicting the fear on them they have inflicted on the women in their lives. It is who I am. I love you, Darling, but this part of me will not change.”

You pick at the blanket beneath you. “And you're… certain these men are doing these awful things?”

Alastor looks at you with a cautious hope. “Yes. I make quite sure of it.” He tilts his head. “Are you…?”

“Thinking about giving us a second chance if you will have me?” You attempt to bury your face in your hands, but Alastor gently grabs your wrists before you can. You flush when he kisses each wrist and at his proceeding smile.

“It’s what I was waiting for, Darling."

[restinslices]

Everything

PJO Show Ares x Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 2459

Summary: Ares supposedly hates kids, so it’s really strange that he comes when you call. (Do not let the summary fool you, this is not fluff. Based on a dream I had a couple days ago. Warning for possible ooc Ares and brief mentions of abuse. Blink and you’ll miss it type shit)

“I don't wanna say”, Grover fingers fidgeted with each other as he purposefully avoided eye contact with you. 

“We're friends, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then you have to tell me! You spoke to my father, I gotta know what he said! What was he like? I bet he was really cool! Man, I wish I could've been there and talked to him”, you looked down at your shoes and added more misery to your face than was necessary. It was extremely childish and petty but Grover kept refusing to tell you what your father Ares was like. You had to know though. You doubted he brought you up, but you still wanted to know what he said and what he was like when he was just out and about. Grover had the opportunity to have a long talk with him and that was something you'd kill and suffer for. 

“I doubt you'd wanna do that” he mumbled, but you heard him. 

“Why'd you say that?” You asked. 

Grover refused to expound on what he meant… at first. 

Everyone knew Grover couldn't hold water so it didn't take too much prodding before he spilled his guts. 

The memory replayed in your head more than you'd like to admit, and if it were up to you, you'd no longer be a half blood. 

It made you feel pathetic. Tons of gods- no. All the gods were shitty parents. After all, they had children with mortals and left the children on Earth, knowing they'd be hunted down. Plenty of half bloods died in a gruesome painful way and at a young age. Plenty of gods never claimed their children, even if they made it to Camp Half Blood. But Ares did claim you, so you assumed that that meant he cared for you in some way. He even gifted you with a double sided sword. Surely, he must've loved you. 

You were foolish and you hated how foolish you were. You should've known he didn't care. He left you here with mortals and watched as your home life got worse and worse which was due to multiple factors including a piss poor mother and step family, the aura children of Ares give off that makes people around them experience rage and of course the random monster attacks that your family blamed you for. It was as if they thought you begged Ares to be his child. As if you'd ever do something as stupid as that. 

The rain soaked through your hood, making your hair all wet and gross. You were an idiot. You tried coming home for the school year, thinking maybe your family changed. They said they did. They tended to lie a lot though. You got into a huge fight and stormed out and you were in such a hurry that you completely forgot to grab your pouch full of drachmas and you didn't wanna step another foot in that house. So now here you were, outside with freezing cold hands that couldn't be warmed because your hoodie was soaking and you couldn't call Chiron. Perfect.

You checked your pockets once again, hoping to find something other than the lighter and fruit roll up that was there but alas, nothing magically appeared. You held the two objects in your hand and an idea formed in your mind. 

You could always set the fruit roll up on fire as an offering. You could pray to your father and hope he hears you and sends you something to help. 

No. That's incredibly stupid. Could you even light a fruit roll up on fire? It didn't matter. Not only was that the stupidest offering ever but you refused to pray to him. You'd rather sleep out in the rain then sneak inside when your family was gone to get your shit. 

You put the two objects in your pocket and let your head rest on your knees, exhaustion hitting. It wasn't even physical exhaustion. It was all mental and emotional. Like a leech was sucking on you constantly. Or a vampire. You'd prefer that. At least you'd die quicker. 

The hum of a motorcycle filled your ears, getting closer and closer. Best case scenario, it was a neighbor. Worst case scenario, it was a murderer. Honestly, you'd welcome both. 

The hum stopped and a familiar voice made you look up, “rough night”. 

It was him. Ares. God of war. Father to who knew how many. It was someone you definitely did not want to see… or so you thought. Part of you absolutely despised him now and everything to do with him and wanted to rip him apart. The other part of you though still felt an immense amount of joy when you saw him and you wanted to cling to him like a child clings to its favorite toy. If you were alone, you would've screamed. 

Then a thought crossed your mind. You didn't burn anything. You didn't make an offering. 

“You were going to” he said, seeming to read your mind. 

“Why are you here?” you managed to get out after some time of just staring at him. 

“Why do you think I'm here?” he asked and you could tell by his tone he meant it sarcastically. Like “the reason is so obvious. Stop being stupid”. 

Something about that sarcastic and irritated tone made you think back to what Grover told you. 

“Why don't you like me?” You asked and you hadn't meant to. It was supposed to stay in your head. 

He squinted his eyes at you and looked you up and down, “what?”. 

You could've let it go. You could've said nevermind, thanked him and let him help. You couldn't though. You didn't know when you'd have this chance again (the camp visited them but damn, there was a lot of you) and if you did something to make him not like you, you wanted to fix it. But that wasn't your job, right? Parents are supposed to care for their kids. 

You did that a lot. Your mind juggled opposite thoughts and it drove you insane. This was just the latest bit of juggling you'd been doing. 

“Grover said he spoke to you-”

“Who is Grover?”

“Percy's friend. The satyr”. A look of anger flashed in his eyes. You knew he remembered Percy. You didn't give him time to start yelling about the 12 year old that beat him in a fight. “Grover said that he spoke to you. I asked what it was like and he said that you said that you hate kids. Even your own. And when we visit, it's the worst day of the year. So, I was just wondering why you don't like me. Is it something I've done?”. 

Ares just rolled his eyes and sighed, “you're taking that personal?”. 

“It's kinda hard not to”. 

“I came to take you back to camp, not talk about whatever crisis you're having right now”. 

You didn't know if you were angry because of what he said, or because of his effect on others. Either way, blood started rushing to your head. “I'm not asking for a lot. I'm asking for an answer. A simple answer. Why don't you like me?”

“I don't like any of my kids”

“And that makes it better?” You asked in disbelief. Ares just stared at you, emotion void on his face. 

“Why do you do this? You keep having kids even though you hate them. Why?”. 

“It's not that simple and I don't have to explain anything to you”. You wished he'd show emotion. Any sliver of it. He was too calm, too numb. You'd prefer him yelling at you but nothing seemed to phase him. He was talking to you the same way you'd talk to a toddler. 

“It is incredibly simple. Just stop having sex with mortals. You already have Aphrodite -who is a married woman but whatever-” you rushed the last part. You didn't particularly care for the affairs between the gods. “How could your eyes possibly wander?”. 

Seeing him show a sliver of anger when you mentioned Aphrodite only filled you with more rage. That’s what angered him? That’s what got emotion out of him? “Really? That's what gets you? What about me being drenched?”

“You chose to come out here” he said through gritted teeth. If you knew Aphrodite was the key to him showing any piece of human emotion, you would've brought her up earlier. 

“I didn't choose this!” Your voice rose, “I didn't choose to be abandoned by my father and be stuck with a dysfunctional family for the rest of my life. You should be angry at that, not me mentioning Aphrodite. You should be enraged at the thought of anyone putting their hands on me and your hands should be covered in their blood! That is how it should be”. 

“Believe it or not the gods aren't too keen on the idea of killing mortals”

“But turning them into various objects and ruining their lives when it's a boring Tuesday is ok?”. His face went back to being blank and emotionless and your plan to stop talking was scrapped. You weren't even sure what you wanted. You wanted him to show something besides anger. Sadness? Regret maybe? Just something to show that maybe, just maybe, he cared deep down and regretted leaving you. 

“None of us asked for this. You all just decide to create and leave us. And you hating the people you created is… I don't know. And it's so stupid that I've spent years of my life trying to get you to be proud of me, only for it to be impossible!”. 

“I claimed you didn't I?” he defended himself, but you scoffed. 

“That's the bare minimum dad! That's like saying your kids should be grateful because you feed them!” You were full on screaming by now and you wouldn't have been surprised if a neighbor came out to see what the fuss was about. “I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you. You probably hate being called 'dad’ and you don't care. You're never gonna get it”

“I try everyday to make you see me and you do everything in your power to not see me. To not see any of us. I would work myself to death for you. I would betray anyone close to me for you. If you asked me to burn down the world for you, I would. If you asked me to extinguish the sun, I'd find a way to because to me… to me you were everything. You are everything”. 

You couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain, or from tears of sorrow and anger. It could've been both. Your eyes certainly stung and you hated it. You knew you had every right to be frustrated, but you hated how weak it made you feel. The children of Ares weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be headstrong and fight their enemies. They were supposed to be fierce warriors capable of bringing armies down to their knees. They were meant to shed blood, not tears. 

You thought for a second you saw an emotion cross his face. You couldn't pinpoint it though. It happened too fast and there was a good chance you were imagining things. 

“You can go. I'd rather sleep in the rain. I wouldn't wanna be even more of a burden” you spat with such venom you didn't know it was possible. Sure, you could have a bit of a temper but this felt different. It wasn't just anger or annoyance. There was a mix of grieving. 

It went silent for awhile, and the adrenaline you felt slowly went down. Reality started to sink in. You just yelled at a god. People who were known to cause destruction for something as small as “I think my shoes are better than yours”. 

“Are you gonna curse me? Or, I don't know, strangle me with my own shoe laces?”. Ares reached into his pocket and you looked away and closed your eyes. You expected to feel a burning sensation. That's what you assumed being cursed was like. A burning sensation and then you'd lose a limb or something. 

All you felt was something land on your lap. You looked down and saw a red pouch with gold string keeping it closed. You looked up at him, but he didn't say anything. You untied the string and opened the pouch and inside laid a pile of drachmas. 

Now he spoke, “call Chiron or whoever else works at that camp. Don't die out here”. 

“You're leaving?” You asked. You didn't know why you were disappointed. You should've been happy. After all, you just went off on him about how shit he was. 

“I have a busy schedule”. You wanted to ask if he'd be seeing the married woman he slept with or another unfortunate mortal, but you figured you pushed your luck enough today. 

“Thanks uhh…” you debated on calling him dad but instead you called him by his name. “Ares”. Then you remembered some gods could be particularly upset when you used their name. “God of war and all those other honorifics”. 

“Yeah” was all he said before he sped off, leaving you alone once again. You didn't know what he was saying “yeah” to but you didn't have enough time to ask and he probably wouldn't even answer. 

You called Chiron and asked to be brought back to camp but you didn't tell him about the conversation you had with Ares. 

You couldn't get the conversation out of your head, even after you showered and laid down to finally get some rest. 

Of course you kept thinking about the conversation and how lucky you were Ares didn't throw you into the street and run you over. 

Another thing stayed on your mind though. 

You didn't give an offering. You were told the gods would listen if you burned something that mattered, like the thickest piece of meat on your plate. You weren't sure they were actually listening and honestly you thought it was a real asshole condition. 

All you had was some stupid candy and you didn't even burn that and the minute you thought about it, he appeared like he was already watching. 

But you doubted he was watching. You doubted he listened to your prayers at all. 

You were one of his children which was something he hated. He'd claim you, possibly send a gift then be done with you. He didn't listen to you anymore. He didn't watch over you anymore. 

It was a coincidence. That's all it was. 

You were sure of it. 

At least, you tried to be. 

This is definitely ooc Ares but YA’LL KNOW I’M A LITTLE FUCKING SLOW! BE PATIENT WITH ME GOTDAMMIT😭 If you saw any errors, no you did not. I already proofread it once and I don’t feel like doing it again like I typically do. It’s 1am. I should be asleep.

[temiizpalace]

🎉Congrats on your milestone! 🎉Could I have idia and vil for prompt 4 pls?

☆┊TAKE MY JACKET, I INSIST. (💀 vs. 👑)

SUMMARY: COLD CHILLS RAN DOWN YOUR SPINE AS YOUR TEMPERATURE BEGINS TO DROP. HE OFFERS HIS JACKET LIKE A GENTLEMEN, BUT A CERTAIN SOMEONE HAD THE SAME IDEA.

CHARACTERS: idia shroud vs. vil schoenheit

EVENT MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: no determined end couple, jealousy

NOTES: vil and idia was such an interesting matchup i love it. tysm for your request!

reader is g/n, reader yuu

˚∘☆∘˚

he should’ve just stayed in his room.

idia roamed the halls of night raven in search of you. he just had to show you his recently imported collection of pokemon merch (that somehow exists here…) and can’t wait to nerd out and explain to you why pikachu could be goku in a fight. it was exciting to find someone willing to listen besides ortho.

until..

there you were. with vil. a SUPERMODEL and SUPER ACTOR, chatting away and having a good time. suddenly any and all of idia’s confidence was blown to smithereens and now he wants to go back to his room and weep. okay, cringe over exaggeration but he wants to go back to his room. just as he thought he shuffled out of sight, you spotted him in that split second and called him over. “idia! hi!” you wave, making him flinch.

hesitantly, he outs himself from hiding and waved back. “h-hey..” he mumbles, watching as you walked over. “what’re you doing outside of your room? i was just about to visit you.” you tease, poking his shoulder. “you were?”

“yeah! me and vil wanted to ask about the new game you bought the other day. apparently he was hired as a voice actor and wanted to get into character, yknow?” you stated that calmly, too calmly. vil? voice acting a game that he plays? seriously? that’s gonna be really weird playing the game and all of a sudden hearing your classmate grunting in pain.

“indeed. any facts for this character, idia? i’ve never voice acted, so this is not in my forte.” vil asks, showing him a photo. “u-uhm.. they’re super cunning, i gues?” idia stutters, backing away slowly. normally he’d love to geek out about this topic, but today was different. he was looking for you, and wanted to geek out to you. not to vil.. “while that’s super cool and all, i think i might head out now.. [MC], see you for our gaming sesh. v-vil.. bye.” and before you could even speak, idia walked faster than he never has before.

embarrassing. so embarrassing. he could barely hold eye contact, how in the world will he ever confess? all hope is lost. the world can end here and it’ll be better than this. overreacting again, but whatever. he wants to lie in bed, cover himself in the sheets, and sulk for a little. such a baby.

☆˚∘

idia rotted away in bed the rest of the day, scrolling through magicam for any new codes he could redeem in his games. a banner pops up, the contact leading to you. hesitantly, he opens the message. stargazing later!! u should come too!11!!

he stared at the message, unable to respond. he wants to go, but also doesn’t.. aaaaaaaa why did he have to like you, it’s not fair. as much as he wants to decline, he knew you’d probably ping him a billion times til he agrees, so he’ll save himself the trouble. sure i have nothing to do later lol

and now he’s here. sitting on the hill with you and vil. gee, it’s like he’s seeing this guy everywhere. “idia, i had no idea you were joining us.” vil says, crossing his arms while looking idia up and down with a glare. intimidated. that was the word to describe idia at this moment. “[MC] invited me.. so..” he murmurs, curling up into a small ball. “cheer up idia! you’ll miss the stars if you hide like that.” you grin, keeping him from hiding his face.

you and idia’s banter couldn’t help but make vil scoff. so noisy.. it should’ve been just you and him. why’d you invite that shut-in too? he’s just going to complain the whole time, right? alas, it can’t be helped. but vil has natural charm, perhaps that’ll win you over.

the breeze begins to pick up, making you shiver. you should’ve brought a jacket, but you didn’t want to miss anything. your negligence has costed you. “cold?” vil asks, watching as you covered your arms with your hands. “a little, but i should be fine.” you reassure him, waving it off like it’s nothing.

“y-you can wear my jacket..” idia stammers, unable to look at you. “hm?” you raise your brow, looking to the boy on your right. his face was flushed red, the tips of his hair slightly pink from embarrassment. “here.” he offers you his jacket, the one that looks ever so comfortable and extremely warm. the one he never lets go of, in your hands. “you mean it?” you ask in disbelief, staring at him as he hid himself further.

“just take it..” just as you were about to put it on, a coat drapes over your shoulders, the warmth catching you off guard. “what kind of gentlemen would i be if i let my dear friend freeze?” vil smirks, looking at idia with a shit-eating grin. “i insist you take your jacket back idia, wouldn’t want to get sick now.”

idia frowns at vil’s pettiness, suddenly feeling very competitive. “woah woah, hang on, wouldn’t want superstar vil schoenheit to get sick because of me. you should take your coat back so you don’t get frostbite.” idia states, taking the coat off you and back into vil’s arms. “please, there are filming conditions in colder weather.” vil scoffs. “should see my room in the summer months.” idia retorts.

“uhm.. guys?” you cut in, breaking their focus. “i can just run back to ramshackle really quickly..! don’t worry about it, stay here.” you get up, rushing down the hill. the silence became deafening, not even the trees rustling broke their awkward tension. refusing to face one another, they stare up at the starry sky. shooting stars begin to fly by, one by one, a never ending stream.

gazing upon it, they shut their eyes and make a wish.

he’ll marry you, and cut that other guy completely out of the picture.

they wished as they glare at each other discreetly.

A/N: shorter than others because i ran out of ideas euheuheueh

date published: 9/2/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[the-scythes-pen]

Love at First Thought (Yandere! Sunday x Reader)

Commission for my amazing friend uwu sorry you had to wait so long for it, but I really hope the ending makes up for it at least..? :>

warnings: manipulation

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

"Brother, do you believe in love at first sight?"

What an odd question.

"Hmm? ...No, I don't. Why do you ask?"

"I think the idea is... sweet. Romantic. I was thinking about writing a song about it."

Sunday couldn't even recall the words to that song- a song he's heard so many times and knows by heart. It's like someone had pushed him into a frozen lake; he feels stunned and breathless, and he's sure he broke his cool façade for a second or two.

"Thank you, miss. You certainly live up to the reputation of this place; I am already pleased with your service." His voice was calm and collected as always, but he could feel his heart stutter and butterflies blossom in his stomach. He couldn’t help the curiosity he had- of what you look like when praised.

"A-Ah, thank you Mr. Sunday..!"

You bowed after placing the tray on the table next to his seat. You were cute.

Turning his attention to the empty stage, he took a polite sip of the soothing blend of tea; made specifically and perfectly to the specifications he requested. Yet the tea that always helped him relax now just felt like a surge of restlessness in his veins; the thought that such a pretty thing as you had handled everything personally, from pouring the tea to laying out the snacks…

Sunday never paid much attention to those who served him. Not that he was heartless- no, far from it, he had always been grateful for those who helped him… so why was it so different this time?

(You looked so cute with that blush as you thanked him for the praise. He wanted to see you smile more.)

Sunday found himself falling deeper into thought; the tea assisting in washing over him and carrying him away from the slowly-growing bustle of the venue; the incoming crowd excited to watch his dear sister perform.

He hadn’t noticed you had left him to his thoughts. That was until he heard a muffled voice from the area behind the VIP balcony.

It's not something he hadn’t heard before, the familiar anger of someone berating another they considered “lower”, and all the angel-like man could do was sigh and try to tune it out, lest he get too distracted and too silently spiteful of those who abused others.

Soon enough, everything went quiet, and Sunday silently pondered for just a moment what might have happened. It was just a fleeting thought, before his mind happily wandered back to the memory of you, dressed in such a wonderfully-fitting uniform, the shy glow of praise lighting up your features.

It was as if his thoughts had summoned you, as you made your presence known once more, a new tray in your hands.

“I-I apologize, M-Mr.Sunday… T-The dessert served to you is devil’s food cake, i-instead of chocolate mousse. I-I apologize for my error.”

Sunday turned to see you in the doorway of the balcony area, a plate of said cake in hand and a certain puffiness to your face.

“Oh? That’s quite alright. Either one is fine with me.” 

As you walk closer once more to exchange the two cake slices, his eyes follow you hungrily; wanting so badly to learn more about you in some way. 

(Perhaps committing your appearance to memory would satiate his desires for now. Hopefully.)

Alas, it didn’t take long for him to notice just why there seemed to be a puffiness to your cheeks- it was in your eyes, too; your cheeks flushed and vaguely tear-stained.

His heart lurched. He curled a fist.

He said nothing, allowing you to silently exchange the desserts before heading into the back once more.

The sound of the crowd began to pick up, signaling the incoming hush that would take over the orpheum. 

But his mind was no longer on the show, only a passing thought in the back of his mind for the music that would soon fill the air.

There was a bitter taste in his mouth that no sweet treat would alleviate.

You’re not entirely sure how you got here... but before you stood the Reverie Hotel; the attraction of Penacony, the most popular destination spot in the entire galaxy.

Were you really lucky enough to have caught the attention of Sunday when he had visited your workplace that day? What did you even do to catch his attention? Other then that mistake you had been reprimanded for... you groan in embarrassment at the memory. Surely Sunday would not accept any kind of mistake, and yet...

"Ah, you're here! How wonderful."

That familiar smooth, calming voice... you stop, letting your bag sit beside you as you stand in the lobby- watching your new boss come up to you.

"H-Hello Mr.Sunday! Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"No no, theres no need to thank me." He smiled kindly at you. "Please, come with me, you have your own room on a private floor."

It'd be an understatement to say you were surprised.

"My own room....?"

"Well of course, my dear. You'll need your own room if you're to be working here permanently."

He quickly guided you towards the elevator that went to the VIP floors.

"I hope you are prepared. Being my personal assistant is going to be just as exhausting as my work is."

Sunday gives you a kind smile.

"But it's nothing you can't handle, right?"

You blinked at him. Was he serious? Personal assistant???

...no way. You can't handle this pressure.

"Sunday-"

"Ah ah ah- I already know what you're going to say." He lets out an amused chuckle. "Theres no need to worry, I promise. Just do your best, and I promise things will be fine."

Was this guy for real? First, the two of you meet by chance at one of his sister's concerts, then he somehow finds your contact info and asks you to move to Penacony... and now you're working directly for the head of the Oak Family ?

....It didn't take you long to get adjusted to the new position; even with the many mistakes you made at first, Sunday was never upset. Robin even mentioned that he seemed a lot more lively lately, and attributed it to your assistance.

(Your presence alone would be enough to suffice him.)

And as you got better and better at understanding Sunday and attending to him, he entrusted you with more and more work, more important tasks that needed a careful eye and hand.

("Thank you, my dear. You're as amazing as always." He would say, and give you a pat on the head, that gentle smile always on his lips.)

Then again, sometimes all you needed to do for him was stereotypical office tasks.

"Can you shred this for me?"

Your fingertips gently brush against his gloved ones as he passes you a folder, slightly on the heftier side with multiple pages shoved within.

He doesn't immediately take his hands away, instead he lingers for just a couple moments longer before he finally does. The contact makes your heart skip a beat.

(Sunday is pretty, you can't deny that. And how many times has he praised you for doing the smallest of tasks with that honeyed voice of his?)

The smile he gives you is so, so genuine- something about the folder he hands you makes it feel heavy in your hands, yet the way his smile graces his features so softly and elegantly has you forgetting about the file in your hands.

You give him the same smile you always do lately- one thats slightly dopey from lovesickness.

"Of course, Mr. Sunday."

The two of you part, and theres a comfort that washes over you, as if you know that everything will be alright.

(Why do you even question it? Why do you have that doubt in your heart? Whatever the reason, you ignore it so willingly, simply because it does not fit in with the order of your thoughts.)

Humming a sweet song you heard on the record player in Sunday's office the other day, you head over to the paper shredder.

(It's just like every other paper or file you've been asked to shred. So why do you feel the urge to look in it?)

(It's to make sure that Sunday didn't accidentally hand you a file he may want to keep. He has been quite tired lately, and he's warned you of small mistakes that may be made.)

As if responding to your thoughts, a single paper flutters from the bottom of the folder and onto the floor, like that of a leaf falling off a branch in autumn.

With insatiable curiosity, you bend down to pick it up, your eyes eager to scan over the familiar dark ink of the page.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

That voice comes from somewhere behind you, and you pause. Your heartbeat begins to pick up.

(Why are you scared?)

"My sister once asked me that very question when she was writing songs for an upcoming album."

The angel-like man so nonchalantly enters the room, and it's like you can't even bother to pull your attention away from him.

(Why are you still staring at that paper?)

Heavy hands are placed on your shoulders.

"I told her that I did not believe in such a thing."

His breath ghosts across your cheek from behind, as Sunday peaks his head over your shoulder. He's so, so close to you.

(Your hands are shaking.)

"And yet... when I first saw you at that venue, the one you used to work at- I couldn't stop the fierce beating of my own heart merely at the sight of you."

(Theres a pit of unfamiliarity in your stomach. It feels heavy.)

"In that moment, my dear..." Sunday's hands move down your shoulders, down your arms, grasping your own hands from behind as he effortlessly moves you to place the dossier in the shredder. "...I knew that you were special to me."

Sunday's own hands now move again, pressing the button to turn the shredder on. The machine roars to life with a loud hum.

"I hated that your former supervisor was so cruel to you. To such a beautiful, sweet little dove."

You watch the paper get eaten by the machine, as a white-gloved hand moves to brush a tear from your eye.

(Your tears are from happiness, aren't they?)

(Aren't they?)

"And I knew in that moment that only I alone could protect you."

(A protector, or a jailer?)

He nuzzles his face into the back of your hair, taking in a deep breath. Your hands move on their own now as a quiet whisper permeates the back of your mind.

You place your passport in the shredder.

"You don't know how overjoyed I was to see you had accepted my invitation to Penacony."

His hands smooth up and down your arms so comfortingly. It feels nice. He feels nice.

(It feels nice to be in his arms. It feels like this is where you belong. With family.)

(He's more than family. He's your guardian angel. Someone who loves and cherishes you.)

A sickness swells up in your stomach, but it's squashed by a fuzzy feeling before it becomes anything.

(Your mind feels fuzzy.)

"Forgive me, my love. I could not resist your charms." The man moves his face into your neck, his lips just barely brushing the sensitive skin.

A voice that is not your own falls from your lips.

"Why... are you doing this?"

(What is he doing? What's wrong? Everything is in order, isn't it?)

"Because I have fallen so hopelessly in love with you, darling."

You place your birth certificate into the shredder.

"You belong with us. With the family. With me."

His lips press softly into your flesh. It sends goosebumps down your arms.

"With the order." He murmurs in a low, dangerous tone before he places an open-mouthed kiss to your searing skin.

You place yet another page bearing your name into the shredder.

(Since when did the many voices become just one?)

(When did Sunday's voice make it's way into your head?)

(Or was it there from the very beginning?)

"I alone will bear the weight of my decisions. I alone will protect not just everyone else, but you as well. This, I promise."

His lips feel so, so hot against your skin. So... good.

(When did the thoughts in your head become the words of someone else?)

You make a noise akin to a whimper, and Sunday lets out a pleased hum of his own.

("I love you.")

[waitimcomingtoo]

Dog Days are Over

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom hires you as a dog walker but ends up wanting more

Masterlist

“Coming.” Tom called when he heard his doorbell ring. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he made no effort to look presentable before opening the door. Once unlocked his front door, he found you standing outside. You smiled awkwardly and gave a stiff wave. He quickly fixed his hair when he realized his surprise visitor was a girl and leaned against his doorframe in an attempt to look cool.

“Hi. Tom?” You asked him.

“Hi, yeah, that’s me. And you are?”

“Y/n. Your brother hired me to help you out. He said you were in desperate need of my service.” You explained. Tom shut his eyes in embarrassment and felt himself turn bright red.

“My brother? Oh my God. Look, you’re very pretty and I’m sure you’re very good at your job-“

“Slow down. I’m a dog sitter.” You clarified. “And walker. And some might even say whisperer.”

“Oh.” He smiled in surprise. “A dog sitter? Right. I knew that.”

“You thought I was a sex worker, didn’t you?” You said with a raise of your eyebrow.

“I did.” He admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. They make a lot of money. If I had any of those skills, I’d be doing that instead. But alas, my talent lies with getting dogs to be obedient.”

“This was the strangest start to a conversation I’ve ever had.” Tom said, mostly to himself.

“You know what? Me too.” You laughed, making him relax and laugh as well.

“Why don’t I show you my dog and then we can discuss what I might need you for?” Tom offered and stepped to the side. You smiled shyly at him and walked into his house with him following behind you. You took a moment to look around his space to get to know him a little. He had photos of his family and his dog all around, as well as memorabilia from past films he was in as well. He disappeared into the other room for a second before returning with Tessa in his arms.

“So this is the woman in my life. Tessa. The only woman in my life.” He emphasized, making you look at him sympathetically.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. When did your mom pass?” You asked him as you pet Tessa.

“Oh, no. She’s fine. She sent me a recipe for cornbread this morning. I just meant I have no romantic prospects.” Tom quickly corrected.

“Oh. Okay.” You laughed awkwardly and looked to the side.

“Sorry. I feel like I’m talking so much. And that all the things I’m saying are insane and embarrassing. Are you also feeling like that?” He asked you through a nervous laugh.

“I’m not feeling anything except this coat. What shampoo do you use on her?” You asked in baby voice as you put your nose against Tessa and scratched her ears. She immediately warmed up to you in a way Tom had never seen her do before with a stranger. He smiled and looked at you fondly before realizing he actually had to answer your question.

“Oh, uh. Rain, mostly. Sometimes dish soap if she bumps into me while I’m washing dishes.” Tom answered honestly, making you crack a smile and look up at him. He smiled in relief when you found his word vomit funny.

“You hand wash your dishes? In this big ass house?” You laughed and looked around.

“I do. Is that weird? I feel like it keeps me humble. Like, if I ever started using my dishwasher, I’d become James Franco overnight.”

“I like that.” You chuckled. “I just figured you’d have someone to do that for you. You know, since you’re Spiderman and all.”

“I’m not one of those celebrities. I don’t pay people to wipe my butt and stuff. I’m just a regular guy.”

“Wow. That’s definitely the first time I’ve heard a “I’m not like other celebrities” speech.” You said sarcastically but playfully.

“Oh yeah? What are you, some kind of celebrity dog walker?” Tom humored you and put Tessa down. She immediately nuzzled up to your leg and laid down on your foot.

“You could say that.” You smiled coyly and bent down to pet Tessa.

“Oh. I was trying to tease you but I guess that’s exactly what your job is.” He laughed and bent down as well to be eye level with you.

“Yep. That’s how your brother found me. I was walking one of Ariana Grande’s thousand dogs and it bit Harry on the ankle out side of a Panera.”

“Oh shit. Tolouse?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” You smiled in surprise.

“That’s the only one I know.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Honestly, me too. I just call “Toulouse” and make kissy sounds and they all come running. All 500 of them.”

“Kissy sounds?” He laughed in confusion.

“You know.” You smiled shyly and made kissing sounds to show Tom what you meant.

“Oh. I like that. See, this is how I call Tess.” He said and stood up. He then bent his knees a little and patted his thighs. Tessa stopped cuddling you to run to him.

“Ah, yes. The old crouch and pat. You know your stuff.” You smiled and stood up straight.

“I’m glad you approve.” He said as he blushed at the compliment, even if it was stupid.

“I do. I respond to the same call actually.” You joked.

“Good to know.” Tom laughed. You looked at each other for a minute and a silence filled the room for a little too long. It was surprisingly not awkward, just noticeable. Tom felt unusually comfortable with you and liked that Tessa did too.

“So what kind of services do you think you might need?” You asked to break the silence.

“Well, I travel a lot for work. So I need someone to look after her while I’m away. She’s a really good dog, though. She does all her business on walks which I try to do twice a day and she never bites or growls. Except at my brother. But he usually growls first.”

“She sounds great.” You laughed and gave Tessas chin a scratch.

“She is. She’s kinda my best friend.”

“That’s sweet. Have you had her a long time?”

“Since I was 16, yeah.” Tom told you.

“Aw.” You pouted. “She grew up with you.”

“Yeah. She did. Though neither of us got much bigger than we were when we first met.” Tom tried to joke.

“You’re the same size you were at 16?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Height wise, unfortunately yes. But fortunately I grew in other places since being 16, if you know what I mean.” Tom replied, immediately regretting it. You raised both eyebrows at him this time and looked at Tessa to see if she heard that too.

“Oh. Cool.” You laughed awkwardly.

“I wish I didn’t say that.” He admitted.

“I wish that too.” You nodded before an awkward silence fell. you stared at each other for a moment before Tom changed the subject.

“Let me show you around.” He offered and put his hand on your back to lead you around the house. He brought you into all the rooms and ended the tour in his pantry.

“And this is where I keep her treats and food. And her heart worm medication but that’s just a once a month pill.”

“Oh, sick. I’ve eaten a few of these. They look exactly like my gummy vitamins.” You nodded and tapped the box of medication.

“Do they work?” He genuinely wondered.

“Well, I’ve never had heart worm.” You shrugged.

“Wow. At least now I know they really work.”

“So is it just you that lives here?” You wondered and looked around again.

“My best friend Harrison lives here too. And my brothers occasionally stay over.”

“These guys?” You asked and pointed to a nearby framed picture.

“Yeah. That’s my family.” He smiled proudly.

“Woah. That’s a lot of boys. Bless your moms heart.” You chuckled and touched the picture.

“Yeah. She’s a saint for putting up with all of us. We did not make it easy.”

“You’re definitely the cutest.” You said without taking your eyes off the picture.

“Oh. Why, thank you.” Tom smiled in surprise and touched his cheek to his shoulder.

“I was talking to Tessa.”

“Oh.” His smile fell.

“I’m just teasing. I was talking about you.” You patted his shoulder before moving past him. Tom chuckled a little and touched his shoulder where your hand had been before going after you.

“So does anyone else occasionally stay over?” You asked, wanting to circle back to the “no romantic prospects” conversation.

“No. No one.”

“Hm.” You nodded and turned your head away from him to smile at the answer. No one staying over confirmed no girlfriend.

“What about at your house?” He asked you, wondering the same things you were wondering.

“I live in a flat above a bakery. So other than the occasional rat, no. No overnight guests.” You told him, knowing exactly why he asked.

“Oh my. Those wouldn’t be the friendly rats that can cook, right?”

“Unfortunately not. They’re the unfriendly kind that run across your floor in the middle of the night and scare the absolute shit out of you.”

“I bet you wish you had an overnight guest then. To help you fend off the rats.” Tom joked as he moved closer to you.

“Oh, absolutely. Everyone knows trapping and releasing a rat is at the very least a two man job.” You humored him. He laughed and realized he felt comfortable with you as if he had known you for years instead of just a few minutes.

“I don’t know about you, but I think this pairing has been a success. Do you think you’ll take the job?”

“I could definitely add Miss Tessa to my roster.” You nodded, making Tom first pump subtly.

“Perfect. Let me get your information then.” He smiled and handed you his phone to get your number. You gladly accepted it and typed it in, adding a dog emoji next to your name so he remembered.

“When can you start?”

“How’s right now sound?”

“That’s perfect. I’ll come and show you my usually routes.” Tom said and brought you over to where he kept Tessa’s many leashes.

“So how long have you been walking dogs?” Tom asked once you were stroking down the sidewalk together with Tessa pulling you.

“Five years. I started doing it during college for extra cash and then dropped out of college because I realized no matter what I got my degree in or what job was offered to me, I’d rather be with the dogs.”

“So you’re an animal person I take it?” He chuckled at your explanation.

“Big time.” You nodded. “But not enough to be a vet or a zoologist. Dog walker was the perfect solution for me.”

“You seem really good at it.“ Tom tried to compliment you.

“It’s really not that hard.” You pointed out, making him shut his eyes in embarrassment.

“Yeah. It felt like a stupid compliment as soon as I said it.” He admitted. You laughed and squeezed his arm, making him relax and stop feeling embarrassed.

“It’s okay.” You laughed. “You tried. It’s the effort that matters the most with girls. Trust me.”

“Oh really? Not the execution?”

“That’s important too. But I guess for me personally, I just want to know you’re trying. I don’t care if it comes out weird.”

“That’s good to know. I always come out weird.” Tom replied, then instantly felt regret.

“I didn’t mean it like-“

“I figured.” You laughed again and looked at him.

“We need to change the subject. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

“Hm, that’s a good question. Maybe the time that someone told me once that they always felt listened to when they talked to me. And that resonated more than anytime I’d ever been called pretty.” You answered him.

“Well you probably hear that one a lot. I’d imagine it loses meaning after a while.” He said, making you smile shyly at the subtle compliment.

“It depends on who says it.” You said and looked over your shoulder at him as Tessa tugged you forward.

“Well, I think you’re beautiful.” He said as stopped walking. You stopped walking as well and turned to look at him.

“Gross.” You said, taking him by surprise.

“What?”

“Sorry. That just came out. I don’t react to compliments well.” You said and slapped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh. It’s okay.” He laughed and started walking again. You fell into a stride beside him again and relaxed when he didn’t find your reaction to the compliment too weird.

“What I meant to say was thank you.” You told him.

“Maybe I’ll be able to give you a better one once I get to know you a little better.” He replied, making you smile.

“It’s nice to have goals.” You said coyly.

“It definitely is.” He chuckled and never took his eyes off you.

“Tess, I think I may be in love.” Tom announced once you had gone back home. Tessa didn’t look up from her very busy and engaging task of licking her foot.

“I know I just met her. But come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel the chemistry.” Tom continued while Tessa kept licking her foot.

“Why are you getting so defensive? I didn’t say you had to call her mommy.“ Tom scoffed. Tessa stood up and tilted her head to the side.

“But I might.” He added with a cheeky smile. Tessa sighed and laid down on the floor.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.” He agreed while Tessa rolled over and laid on her side.

“Look, darling, I know change is scary. It’s scary for me too. But it can’t be just us forever, princess. You’ve been the only woman in my life for too long now. It’s time to add someone else.” Tom said gently as he bent down to pet Tessa. Tessa licked his hand and he sighed.

“You’re right.” He agreed. “I don’t even know how she feels. But I swear, Tess, there was a spark. I felt it. And I think she did too.”

Tom pulled out his phone and started to write to you. Tessa let out a little whine and stamped her feet.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m texting her her work schedule. You’re getting walked every day from now on.” He told Tessa. Tessa shook out her body in response.

“I know you already get walked everyday. I was making a joke about how I’m gonna make her walk you everyday so I get to see her more. Keep up.” Tom said sarcastically. Tessa whined again and Tom felt bad for sassing her.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t let her come between us.” Tom told her. Tessa laid down on the floor in response.

“What?” Tom laughed in surprise. “No. You have a dirty mind.”

Tom asked you to come over the next day for your first day or work. He spent the morning tidying up the house, then made it a little messy so you wouldn’t expect the house to be clean every time you came over. Finally, he heard the doorbell ring.

“Oh my God. It’s her. Be cool.” He warned Tessa as he smoothed his hair.

“Hi. I brought you muffins. I felt like I had to announce that immediately or else I’d be awkwardly holding this box and looking for an appropriate time to say I have muffins.” You said as soon as Tom opened the door. He smiled and felt himself relax when he realized you were just as nervous as he was.

“Aw, darling. You didn’t have to do that.” He said as he took the muffin box from you. You stepped inside and he helped you out of your coat. You felt your face heat up and he hands slid down your arms to take the coat off but didn’t see that he had a matching blush across his face.

“It was no trouble. I get them for free when the bakery messes up a batch.” You admitted.

“Oh, really? What’s wrong with these?” Tom laughed nervously and pulled out of the box.

“I didn’t ask.” You told him. You both stared at the muffin in his hand for a minute before caving.

“I’ll try it if you do.” He said.

“Okay. Deal.” You smiled and nodded your head. Tom took a bite and then handed the muffin to you. Instead of turning it around, you bit right where Tom’s mouth had just been. He took this as your first kiss and felt his face heat up.

“Not bad.” He shrugged after swallowing the muffin.

“Yeah. I guess we’ll never know.” You laughed and put the muffin back in the box.

“What bakery did you say these were from?”

“Destiny Bakery. I live in the apartment right above it.” You told him.

“I remember you mentioning that. I didn’t realize it was that bakery. I love that one. The couple that owns it has that cute little girl that’s always in the shop. Haley, I think.”

“Yep. Haley’s very sweet. I bring the dogs I walk by sometimes so she can pet them.”

“They seem like a cute family.”

“They are. They actually just had twins. They bring them around sometimes.”

“How long have you lived there?” He asked you.

“Ever since I loved to London five years ago.” You explained.

“Ah. So you’re not a native?” He smirked and folded his arms.

“Nope. But I’ve found my way around by walking all these dogs. I take it you are?”

“Southwest London.” He replied. “Born and raised.”

“That explains a lot.” You snorted.

“Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean, darling?” He said playfully and pretended to look offended.

“Don’t worry about it.” You teased back. You looked at each other for a moment and Tom felt his heart aching in his chest. He had it bad, and he wanted more.

“So I thought I’d join you on your walk today.” He said as he picked up Tessa’s leash.

“Didn’t you do that yesterday?” You chuckled.

“Yes.” He realized. “But I wanted to come again. In case you got lost.”

“If you’re available to walk her, how come you asked me to come over?” You questioned him with playful smile.

“I’m leaving for work in two days. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with her before I left.” Tom quickly came up with something.

“I see.” You laughed. “Come on. Let’s not keep the lady waiting.”

You put Tessa’s collar on and walked out Tom’s front door with him right behind you. He showed you a different route he liked to take to make it seem like there was an actual reason for him to be on the dog walk other than him just wanting to spend time with you.

“So where are you traveling to?” You asked as Tessa pulled you along.

“Atlanta for some reshoots.”

“Ooo. Fancy.”

“Do you think you could look after Tessa while I’m away? It’ll only be for a week. Yeah could stay in my house if it’s easier.” Tom asked you.

“You trust me to stay in your house? We just met yesterday.” You reminded him with a surprised laugh.

“But you know my brother and you have a friendly face. So I don’t think you’ll rob me.” Tom said as he handed you an extra key to his house.

“What if I was planning on robbing you and you just gave me a key to your house and the exact time frame you’ll be away for?” You teased him as held up the key.

“I don’t think a robber would’ve brought me muffins.” He pointed out.

“Maybe not.” You laughed shyly and returned your attention to Tessa.

“So could you do it?”

“Sure. I can spend a week with this little princess in your huge mansion.”

“It’s not that big. But thank you. You’re the best. I’m so glad you almost ran over my brother.” Tom joked.

“Me too.” You laughed. You fell into a comfortable silence as you walked beside each other. Your hand accidentally brushed against Tom’s a few times, sending sparks through the both of you each time.

“Does all the traveling you have to do make it hard to do normal things?” You asked after a beat.

“I don’t know. Define normal things.”

“You know, like, date?” You said without looking at him.

“Believe it or not, that was hard for me before I was an actor.” Tom chuckled. “Having to travel a lot can’t really take all the responsibility for me not having a girlfriend. I was born with that problem.”

“Oh, okay. I honestly only asked that because I wanted to find out if you had a girlfriend but there’s no way to ask that question without it sounding like I was hitting on you.” You explained and still never looked up at him.

“Oh. So you weren’t hitting on me?” Tom pretended to be offended.

“Not in this particular moment, no. I was when I bit the same side of the muffin, though.” You replied. Tom stopped walking about he had thought the exact same thing. You stopped walking too and he realized he may be reading too far into things.

“That was a joke, right?” He asked you.

“Duh.” You laughed, making his hope crumble away.

“So if you’re not hitting on me, why’d you want to know if I have a girlfriend?” He asked as he started walking again.

“Because I can totally picture you forgetting to tell me you have a girlfriend and her coming over to find me in your house with your dog while you’re not there to explain that I’m just the dog sitter. And then she would break up with you because she thought you were cheating and you’d get framed as a dirty cheater in the media which doesn’t seem like an accurate character assessment at all and it would be all my fault.”

“Well I appreciate the concern for the possibility of that very specific scenario happening, but it’s impossible. No girlfriend will be walking in to find you.” Tom laughed at your genuine concern for a made up situation.

“Good.” You sighed. “And me saying “good” is me hitting on you, by the way.”

“I thought so.” He laughed at the joke but felt himself blush.

“I’m glad you caught that one because that’s about as subtle as I get.”

“You’re funny.” Tom laughed. “And pretty, as we’ve previously discussed. But that wasn’t a compliment because I know you don’t like that one. It was just an observation. And this was my long winded way of asking why you never thought about acting?“

“I don’t know. It just never appealed to me. I belong here. With my people.” You said and gestured to Tessa.

“You do belong.” He agreed. “I think she really likes you. She told me.”

“She better. I’m about to be her mommy of the week.” You said and bent down to pet her.

“I wish you were my mommy of the week.” Tom whispered as he watched you.

“What’d you say?” You asked as you stood up.

“Nothing.” He lied.

You circled the block and made it back to his house in under an hour, much to Tom’s dismay. But as he unlocked his front door, he realized your time together didn’t have to end.

“Do you want to come in?” Tom offered.

“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled shyly and followed him inside. He took Tessa’s leash off and she ran off, leaving you and Tom alone.

“I’ll put the kettle on. You can put on a movie, if you’d like.” He smiled softly at you as he went into the kitchen. You gulped and went into his living room and tried to look as normal as possible as you sat on his couch. He came into the living room with two mugs of tea and sat beside you. Your knees brushed and you both noticed but didn’t say a word about it. You pressed play on When Harry Met Sally, a movie that was safe enough to make him laugh but wouldn’t require you to sit through any uncomfortable sex scenes together. Tom smirked at your choice of movies and wondered if you were trying to send him a message.

“Are you cold?” He asked and held up a blanket. You nodded and he draped the blanket over the two of you. You took that at an opportunity to scoot a little closer to him so the blanket would fully cover the both of you. You exchanged a shy smile with each other before turning back to the movie. As the movie went on, you moved closer and closer to each other.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked him as one point. Tom gulped and kept his eyes on the screen so he didn’t look as excited to answer as he felt.

“Sure.”

“Do you do this with all your dog sitters?” You asked. Tom took a long sip of his tea before turning to you.

“Yes.” He said seriously. You laughed and nudged him a little as he set his tea back down.

“So since you asked me some personal questions, I need to know a few things about you.” He said and turned to you.

“Ask away.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you.

“Really?” You laughed. “That’s your first question? You don’t want to know if I have a criminal record or anything?”

“I don’t care about that. It’s not as important.” Tom waved his hand, making you laugh again.

“No boyfriend.” You shrugged. “No criminal record either.”

“That’s good.” Tom nodded and turned back to the movie.

“Yeah. You should hope the person you have a key to your house to doesn’t have a criminal record.” You said teasingly.

“I meant the part about no boyfriend.” Tom replied without looking at you. Your jaw dropped a little but you said nothing and turned back to the movie as well. Tom snuck a glance at you and smiled to himself. You watched the rest of the movie and by the end of it, you were sitting right next to each other as you leaned into his side. He shut the TV once the movie ended just as you got a text.

“Shit. My shih tzu. I have to go walk my next client.” You sighed when you read the text.

“Oh. You have to go?” Tom asked with disappointment.

“Yeah.” You frowned. “I can’t be late. He’s a biter and very passive aggressive. The dog is kinda a bitch too.”

“How bitchy can a little dog be?” Tom chuckled and took the blanket off the two of you.

“You have no idea. You know when you’re on your period and you see a dog and it shoves its nose right into your snatch so everyone around you knows you’re on your period?”

“No.” Tom said after a long beat of silence.

“Oh, right.” You realized. “Well this dog points it out every month. Even though I’ve said nothing about the time I caught him eating a dirty tissue. And that freak knew it was used.”

“You’re right. He sounds like a bitch. I definitely don’t want to put you on his bad side. Here, I’ll walk you to the door.” Tom chuckled and got off the couch. He put his hand on your back and lead you to the door before opening it for you. You stepped outside but stood in the doorway to say goodbye to him.

“Goodnight.” Tom smiled softly as he leaned against his doorframe.

“It’s like 3 pm.” You said as you checked your phone.

“Oh, right. Good morrow, then? I don’t fucking know.”

“I like that. Good morrow, Tom.” You laughed. “Safe travels tomorrow, okay? Text me when you land.”

“I will.” He nodded. A comfortable silence settled between you as you stared into each others eyes. Tom took a chance and started to lean in, and you did the same. Before your lips could touch, Tom chickened out and stepped back.

“Well, bye!” Tom smiled and slammed the door in your face. He immediately cringed and covered his mouth with his hand. Tessa came into the room and sat and stared at Tom.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He groaned. “I can close. I just panicked, okay? She’s so pretty. What if she didn’t want to kiss me?”

Tessa laid down on the ground and rolled onto her side. Tom sighed and bent down to scratch her tummy.

“It doesn’t matter now. She’ll probably watch you this week and then get out of my life forever. There is no way I’m coming back from that.” Tom mumbled.

Two hours later, he came back from that. Your name came up on his phone and he immediately grabbed it to answer it. It was a tik tok video about a dog.

“Show this this to Tessa. It’s so her.” You had written. Tom smiled fondly at the text and let out a sigh.

“What can I say? She wants me.” He told Tessa smugly.

“She laughed. Thanks for sending it.” Tom texted you back.

“No prob. So what time should I come over tomorrow?”

“Is 10 good? I would like to see you before I leave.” He wrote back. His thumbs danced over the keyboard and he decided to add more so he didn’t sound so forward.

“To give you the run down on how the week will be.” He added. He stared at the text and decided to add even more.

“And to hit on you.”

You laughed when you read his text and decided to tease him further. You only hoped he’d get the reference.

“I’ll be there. Goodnight!!” You wrote back. He laughed at you making fun of him and felt better about not kissing you.

“It’s 5 pm.” He replied.

“I know. goodnight :)”

Tom smiled and held his phone to his chest. He liked the way things were going and couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t leaving for a week. He was getting somewhere with you and worried that leaving would stop the momentum.

“Good morning. I don’t have muffins.” You said as soon as Tom opened the door the next day.

“Good morning.” He laughed. “That’s okay. I made you some tea.”

“Oh, thanks.” You smiled shyly and accepted the mug. Tessa ran up to greet you and you knelt down to pet her.

“So she already ate and went out. She’ll probably want a walk around noon.” Tom told you.

“I can do that. I mean, I will do that. That’s my job.” You laughed nervously and glanced at the doorway. You couldn’t help but think of the missed kiss and found yourself feeling awkward around Tom.

“I should be home on Sunday morning. Think you’ll be all right here?” He asked and put a hand on your arm. You looked at his hand and let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah. I think I’ll find your giant home very comfortable. Even if it’s ten times the size of my apartment.” You replied sarcastically to cover up how flustered you felt.

“Good. But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. You’re never a bother.” Tom assured you.

“Thanks. I will.” You smiled in return. You heard a car horn outside and Tom smiled sadly. He bent down to pet Tessa and give her a kiss goodbye.

“That’s my ride. I guess I’ll leave you guys to it.” He said and picked up his bag.

“Goodbye, Tom. I’ll see you in a week?” You said as you walked him to the door. He turned to face you in the doorway and felt the moment coming back.

“Bye.” He smiled softly. You found yourselves leaning in again but before your lips could touch, the driver honked his horn again. You jumped apart and Tom gave you an apologetic smile.

“Next time?” He asked you.

“Next time.” You agreed before slamming the door in his face to get back at him for the day before.

In the week Tom was gone, you had an ongoing conversation over text. You FaceTimed him often to let him see Tessa whenever he had breaks. Then, he started FaceTiming you even when Tessa was asleep for the night. To Tom’s surprise, you grew closer with him away. Your conversations went from being about Tessa to getting to know each other and by Saturday night, he couldn’t wait to get home to see you. He took the earliest flight Sunday morning just to see you sooner. When he opened his front door, he was disappointed when neither you or Tessa came to greet him.

“Well? Isn’t my girl gonna give me a kiss?” Tom called out. You heard this and felt your heart skip a beat. If he was going to be bold, you decided you could be too. You ran into the foyer where he was just as he was dropping his bag to the floor. You made eye contact and before he knew what was happening, you threw your arms around him and kissed him. The surprised look on his face when you pulled away made you realize you had completely misinterpreted the situation.

“You meant the dog, didn’t you?” You said as your arms slowly slid away from his neck.

“Yeah, I did.” He admitted. You gulped and stepped away from him and prayed the floor would just swallow you up so you didn’t have to live in this moment. To your surprise, Tom slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you back towards him.

“But I mean…” He trailed off and leaned in to kiss you again.

I’m dedicating this one to my dog! I miss and love you forever my sweet boy. Give your pets some love for me ❤️

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[mockerycrow]

Hi 👋

I was wondering if we could have some fluff? But please only write when you're not busy.

Reader is sick, and how would each member take care of them, nursing them, telling the reader that they gonna take good care of them and then finish it off with some cuddles.

SICK MOMENTS; Ghost Edition (GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist

authors note; yet another “moments” series. idk who i’m doing next, but stay tuned :-) — this is an incredibly old WIP. i will be doing “sick moments” series, but i’m in horrible writers block and I want to finish off the 4k requests. life is busy, i’m so sorry!!!

[WARNINGS; implied civilian!reader, sickness, medicine/drug usage, celsius is used, mentions of vomiting, fluff.]

YOU END UP waking up in the middle of the night with the most painful ache in your throat and the worst headache you’ve ever experienced in your life. You’re drenched in sweat, your shirt—Simon’s shirt, actually—clinging to your sweat soaked back, and your blanket feels so suffocating. You can’t help the whimper that leaves you as the pulsing in your temples and eyes quickly turn to pounding, and you blindly shove the blanket off of yourself.

You don’t even think to look if Simon’s in the bed with you; not when your stomach is twisting so horribly you think you won’t make it to the bathroom. You push yourself out of bed and stumble out of the room and down the hall, and you don’t vomit, but you’re nauseous as you’re on your knees, your hands slick with sweat as you grip the toilet seat—something you’ll cringe and gag at later.

You aren’t too sure how long you’re there, waiting for the vomit to bubble up your esophagus, but you eventually feel a usually warm hand—cool at the moment due to your fever—rub the back of your neck. “Hey..” Simon’s deep voice fills your ears. sounds tired, as if he was sleeping before this. He probably was. You don’t look at him as your eyes are closed, but you let out a whimper of acknowledgment.

“Tilt your head up, love.. Mhm, that’s it..” You follow his direction, feeling something press against your forehead, a few flicking noises, and then a beep. Whatever he held against your forehead, Simon pulls away. “39 degrees..” Simon mutters, a sigh leaving him. “Hey, you think you’re gonna vomit?” He asks, being straight forward whilst also being conscious of your condition. You take a moment to think and you shake your head. “No,” You croak. “Just nauseous.”

Simon hums, his hand touching the back of your neck again reflexively in an attempt to provide you some comfort; some familiarity whilst your head spins with illness and pounding pain. The twisting and swirling feeling of the nausea in your gut and throat doesn’t settle for a good while, muffled noises of despair leaving your lips. Each time, Simon quietly acknowledges your pain, praising you for enduring it, that he knows that it hurts.

Simon hates when you’re in pain of any kind. He hates it from when you have an annoyingly painful stuffy nose to stubbing your toe on the corner of the couch—when you’re sick like how you are now, to when you frown when the water in the sink is a bit too hot for your liking. If Simon could shield you from any harm and pain, he would in an instant. In a perfect world, you would never be sick and never stub your toes, you would never have colds and the water would magically be the correct temperature.

Alas, this is reality.

“It’s too early to phone the doctor but I will make sure to do first thing when they open, alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep voice rings in your ears, so low that it vibrates in your chest for a moment—and just for a second, your nausea goes away. You wish you could box his voice up and put it in your ears all the time from how soothing you find it. You realize you didn’t respond when Simon calls your name softly and you nod, your eyes remaining shut. “I wanna die.” You moan unseriously, your eyebrows twinging together from the pain between them deep in your skull.

Simon chuckles and squeezes the back of your neck softly. “I’m going to fetch you a glass of water and some medicine to help you until morning. I’ll be right back.” You respond with a simple nod, focused on keeping the nausea away. You’re sure Simon has teleporting capabilities because he’s back by your side in record time. He’s helping you tip your head back, his hand carefully cradling the back of your head and slipping a couple pills into your mouth, carefully giving you sips of water. Not too quick to further your nausea, not too slow to have you think about it too much.

The water is refreshing and cold when it slips down your throat. “There you go,” Simon praises softly, his tone so soft that it contradicts the natural low, grittiness in his voice. “Gave you some anti nausea, some pain meds. I’m not sure if I should give you any fever reducers yet. I’ll be monitorin’ your fever.”

You nod, shuddering slightly as the hand on the back of your head goes to your jaw and neck, guiding your head to lean against his thigh as Simon is standing up straight. “I don’t think I can move yet.” You croak loud enough for him to hear, which earns his callused thumb stroking over your cheek. “That’s alright, love.” Simon murmurs. “We can stay like this as long as y’need. I’ll get ya set up in the living room when you’re feeling a bit better, yeah?”

You nod, turning your head to bury half of your face into his sweatpants, feeling eternally grateful for this man. It took you both a long time to get to this point together—a lot of push and pull between you two, a lot of communication and a lot of trust. In the end, it’s been worth it.

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

this has been on my mind for a while, how would König react to a reader who was around when he was being bullied, not one of the bullies since I doubt he would forgive that even tho the sex would be nasty but like a girl who was on the side lines doing nothing and just hanging out with the bullies coming to him apologetically and wanting to make amends??

Oh what a delicious idea!

I meant to answer this with a quick reply but alas 🙄 this turned into a short drabble almost

She wasn’t one of the bullies, which means she’s not someone who König would want to actively terminate (I hc him in some of my darker fics as someone who may or may not have killed his childhood bullies... and/or his father, which means König can’t go back to Austria bc MEMORIES and also bc he has like a raging criminal record there). But she’s an onlooker, practically an enabler, and used to hang out with his bullies, oh dear. König wouldn’t be all too welcoming with her.

Chances are she was someone who König crushed on during school. Unattainable, he daydreamed about having her as his first girlfriend, but naturally that never happened... Now he’s suspicious to the point of being a little paranoid: he built a tough shell because of his past, so doe eyes and apologies won’t get you very far, even if König is intrigued. To be honest, his interest is piqued, but he won't let you see that in a million years.

Perhaps you reach out after a class meeting, some get together he never attended. You always wondered what happened to the cute, awkward nerd who sat behind you in class, the clumsy boy who talked of Rome, chivalry and knights while other boys wanted to be F1 drivers... Maybe you fantasized about asking him to help you with your history or math test, maybe you even blew him a kiss one time on dare to see if he'd walk straight into a wall (he did).

Maybe you dolled yourself up, just for him, excited to see König after over 10 years. To see if the awkward boy would still blush, to see what kind of man he has become... Chirp your regrets after a few blunts and some booze and see if he still fancied you.

But König never came. And of course he didn’t, that’s hardly a surprise. The regret within you builds until you bite the bullet and send a message to his old number, and after a few months, a reply finally arrives, but it’s not the most genial one.

König wants to meet you though… And the man, the thing he has become, makes it clear that he's not the shy awkward boy anymore.

You spend the whole evening trying to get over the sheer size of him, the lack of shaking hands, the distant cold stare with which he looks down at you. The fact that he works as a mercenary, that the boy who never hit anyone now kills people for money... The fact that he looks like someone who could wipe the floor with the young men you used to think were kinda cool.

König, however, is trying to decide what you want from him. Do you still think he’s a loser who never hit back because he wanted to be the better person? Do you think he’s a good for nothing man, even now, upon seeing that he finally succumbed to his hate?

Why do you even want to apologize after all these years?

Do you want an official pardon so that you can sleep your nights better? Or do you want to gawk at him because he chose to skip that stupid get together, perhaps gossip about him to the others and see if you could still find something to laugh at?

He’s the perfect gentleman during your “date”, offers to pay for the food and wishes you all the best. You can see the hurt in his eyes, of course – he wants to make you feel even worse about yourself by being such a good joe, so you break before him when he tries to leave, apologizing again, even crying in front of him.

“I just wanted to know if you’re happy,” you say. “I just hope that everything’s alright now…”

You lay your whole heart out in front of this man, but he's not the boy you used to know, not anymore.

He doesn’t tell you that he’s not happy; he never was. Neither does he heed the wishes of his darker self, wanting to tell you that he’d be happy for a while if you blew him in the restroom. He’s fucking better than that.

“We were just kids,” he says instead.

And that’s it: that’s the apology. But you can’t let him go, and neither can he, not when you humbly decided to come and rip all his wounds open.

Cue to a few months from the first date, you’re neck deep in love with him while König tells himself he’s only having fun. You could say he’s using you for sex; yes, he’s just dating this chick from high school... You’re just someone he comes to fuck and cuddle during leaves. It's nothing serious, no. He can do without serious for a while.

And he’s not going to fall for your charms, no matter how sweet, authentic and loving you are... You make yourself so fucking easy to love, but he's not going to fall for that. Any other woman he'd worship, but not you.

Not you.

Not you…