#like I thought he was just a familiar or a follower even a human lover or something

[dumbledorathexplora]

The girls are gonna FIGHT next season…

[astraystayyh]

The only exception

barista Minho x reader. strangers to lovers. slow burn. if you can, listen to The only exception by Paramore while reading :)

Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.

skz song series masterlist

i.

Minho sweeps the countertop with a blue rug, wiping away the scattered droplets of spilled coffee. He grabs a pastry from the showcase- a blondie with a raspberry drizzle on top, placing it on a plate decorated with dainty flowers. And then he gives it to the middle-aged man sitting near the back of the café. 

Minho is in Aurora, completing his mid-day shift, and yet it feels as if he's only physically there. His body is moving on auto-pilot, mechanically performing the familiar tasks etched into his memory by now. And he likes it, since it drowns out the tumultuous thoughts plaguing his mind.

Minho used to look forward to the days when Marta- Aurora's exceptional baker, would prepare blondies. The alluring aroma of the freshly made pastry would waft through the café, enveloping both Minho and the customers in a soothing embrace. He enjoyed preparing the coffee and drawing different pretty patterns on top of it. He also liked the music playing, and sometimes, the manager would even let him play some of his own playlists. 

But that was before Minho got his heart broken, torn in half, carelessly, as if it didn't belong to a breathing human, but rather to an unfeeling entity. Now, his lattes are void of intricate designs, the blondies prepared by Marta remain untouched, and his mind doesn't register the music playing. 

He's just existing, in a stillness he perfectly curated. He's a placid river, undisrupted, running its usual course day after day. 

Minho watches as the man clad in a polished suit finishes his treat, before getting up and leaving Aurora with hurried steps. He eats alone now, Minho has noticed, and his ring finger is void of the gold band he used to wear.

Perhaps that's what Minho's fate would also be. Eating alone in cafés he used to bring his lover to, basking in the chatter surrounding him, in the desperate hope that it'll fill the void inside him. 

ii. 

it's a Thursday, which means Minho is working the night shift at Aurora. It's pouring rain outside, the incessant water droplets a misty veil that fogs up the café's windows. Amidst the downpour, he catches sight of a couple dashing through the rain, hands tightly clutched into one another. They're giggling, as if the rain falling isn't a nuisance, but rather an elixir heightening their love. Minho looks the other way. 

The door to Aurora is pushed open, and Minho watches as you set foot inside. You're drenched in rain, from head to toe, strands of your hair sticking to your cheek. You exhale in relief, closing your eyes for a split second as the warmth of the café surrounds you- like a childhood blanket tightly wrapped around your being. There is a hint of a smile as you walk to the counter. It only grows when your eyes set on Minho. 

"Hi!" you greet cheerfully and he simply nods in return. The weather was horrible and you were probably uncomfortable from the clothes clinging to your skin, so what were you exactly joyful about?

"Can I have hot chocolate, please? Oh, and a piece of that brownie," you point to the showcase, and he follows your line of sight. 

"Sure, anything else?" 

"No, thank you," you smile, and he nods once again. "That will be 10 dollars." 

"Here," you hand him a crumpled bill and he takes it from you carefully, ensuring your hands don't brush against one another. 

You sit down on a chair near the window, and Minho dutifully prepares your order. He brings it to you once he's done, and you grin at him once again. You smile a lot, he thinks to himself. 

Minho goes on with his tasks, cleaning the dirty cups in the sink and grounding the coffee beans. When he's done, he can't help but notice you grabbing some napkins from the table and dabbing your neck and face dry with them. He sighs to himself before retreating to the café's backroom.

"Here, to dry your hair with," he says, handing you a clean towel.

Minho leaves before you could smile at him again. 

iii. 

It's Tuesday, and Minho has just served a freshly baked cinnamon roll to Mark- the middle-aged man who just introduced himself to Minho after months of frequenting Aurora.

Minho liked having regulars in his shifts, familiar faces to look into. This was part of the reason why he picked being a barista as a part-time job- he enjoyed people-watching. Not in a noisy way; he simply liked imagining the lives of the people surrounding him. It served as a distraction from his own. 

Among the regulars was a woman in her thirties who only ordered a chaï latte with a blueberry muffin. Then there was that one student, with blonde hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He really despised bitter coffee, always ordering his with abnormal amounts of syrup.

And now, there was you too. You've been coming to Aurora regularly for the past few weeks since your initial visit. Minho still hasn't memorized your go-to order because you don't have one. You pick a new drink each time as if you were on a mission to taste everything on the menu. 

You come here alone, occupying the same seat by the window with your chin resting on your palm. He suspects you enjoy people-watching too since you often gaze outside. You also bring books with you, reading them while sipping on your beverage. Sometimes you write too, in a tiny sage notepad. 

And you smile, god do you smile a lot. At young children passing by in the street, at an elderly couple holding hands, at the black cat that sleeps on the edge of the window. And you smile at Minho. Each time you order, each time your eyes meet his from across the café. Minho likes to believe that happiness was so deeply ingrained within you, it became the very essence of your soul- an intrinsic part of your being you could not part with.

The door to Aurora is pushed open and Minho isn't surprised to see you entering once again, your bag loosely hanging from your shoulder. 

"Hi!" you greet excitedly as you usually do, and Minho simply nods, as he usually does. 

"I'm sorry if this is a bit weird," you preface, piquing Minho's curiosity. "I'm not really craving anything today, so can you make me your favorite drink?"

"My favorite drink?" he repeats, a bit incredulously and you nod eagerly. "Yes, I drink anything and I don't have any allergies, so whatever you prepare is fine!" you smile hopefully at him.

He stays silent, mulling over your request. He goes to say no, but the smile slowly slipping from your face makes a strange pang of guilt wash over him.

"On second thought, I'll just have-"

"Okay," he interrupts, "I'll bring it to you when it's done," he quickly says and the smile etches itself on your lips once again. Minho feels an unexpected relief dawn on him at its sight.

"Thank you! I'm yn, by the way," you introduce.

"Minho," he says, although you can read it on his nametag. 

"Minho," you repeat, and he finds himself itching to hear his name dripping from your lips again.

Minho prepares you an iced americano with cold foam, and two pumps of white mocha, since you seem to enjoy drinks on the sweeter side. He watches breathlessly from the counter as you take a sip of it, closing your eyes to fully relish in its taste. Your nose scrunches up in delight before you quickly turn around to shoot him a thumbs up from afar. 

Minho nods, before turning his back to you. Unwillingly, a small smile tugs at his lips. He's glad you liked it. 

iv.

Another Thursday unfolds following its usual routine. Mark occupies his customary spot in the rear of the café, while the scent of Marta's lemon madeleines permeates the kitchen.

Except you're not smiling. 

Minho finds it odd, how there was no cheerfulness in your steps as you walked to the counter. You did not smile while ordering, and your voice carried a tinge of sadness when you thanked him.

You did not ask about his day, nor about his cats- that was also something unusual for you to do. You've asked about them each time since Minho told you about them. He didn't plan on doing so, he just saw you one day eyeing the stickers of his three cats on his phone case, while he was counting your change.

"Are they your cats?" you asked, pointing at them and he nodded, a faint smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

"They are."

"You must love them a lot. They almost managed to make you smile," you teased, grabbing the rest of the money and walking to your usual seat. 

Minho steals brief glances at you, as he prepares your matcha latte, a drink you seemed to enjoy a lot lately. You're gazing at the window almost soulfully, your back slightly hunched as if there was an invisible weight crushing you underneath it. 

Minho nibbles on his lower lip, contemplating his next move, before grabbing the frothed milk. For the first time in months, he draws a little cat on the surface of your drink, just like he used to do a long time ago.

He brings it to you, and his heart flutters nervously as you gaze down at the cup. He almost second-guesses his action, that is until you beam at him, and Aurora suddenly feels brighter than it did seconds ago. 

v. 

"When does your shift end?" you ask Minho as he sets your perfectly crafted matcha latte on the table- an order he has committed to memory by now.

"In an hour, why?" he asks curiously and you wave your hand dismissively. "Just wanted to know." 

The seconds trickle by slowly, as the hour almost comes to an end. You watch as Minho takes off his apron, running a hand through his hair. It's gotten longer now, silky bangs he tucks behind his ear to keep them from obstructing his vision.

He talks a bit to Seungmin, the other barista that works there. And then he steals a quick glance around the room, where he finds you already looking. You wave him over, and he tilts his head slightly in confusion, before walking to your table. 

"Sit down," you smile, gesturing to the chair in front of you. Minho complies silently.

"Here," you take out a container filled with brownies from your bag. "I never properly thanked you, for the towel and for the little cat you drew on my coffee last week. So, here, thank you," you beam at him while sliding the box in his direction.

"I don't- it's nothing, you didn't have to," he says, and you notice a tinge of pink blush covering the tips of his ears.

"I wanted to. I hope you'll like them, I'm not as good as your baker, but I tried," you confess, smiling sheepishly, and Minho feels a sudden urge to vehemently contradict you, to tell you that they must taste good. And even if they didn't it wouldn't matter, because you baked them for him. And that is enough. 

But he bites the inside of his cheek harshly, physically stopping this rush of words eager to escape his mouth.

"Let's eat them together, hum?" he simply suggests, opening the container and placing a brownie on your plate before taking one himself.

"Is it good?" you ask tentatively and he pretends to contemplate your question for a moment.

"They're horrible, right? I shouldn't have taken creative liberties with the recipe and-"

"Yn, I'm just kidding," he stops you, a soft smile on his face. "They're delicious, see," he says, finishing the brownie in one bite. "Really good," he compliments, reaching for another piece. 

"Okay," you smile in relief, eyes crinkling closed. The sunlight is streaming through the window, casting a golden shadow on your face. You are swaying contently in your place, as you take another bite of the brownie. And you look happy, with him. Minho thinks the brownies are the best he's ever had because he's sharing them with you. Because he got a taste of your happiness through them. 

vi. 

"Can you believe that professor? He failed half the class and he still thinks he isn't the problem." 

You are venting to Minho about your stuck-up Economics professor, while leaning against the countertop. He's listening intently to you, drinking in the details of your face as you talk to him. For some reason, he finds the smile lines on your face mesmerizing, that and the way your eyebrows move with your every word. 

These subtle details have been engraved into his memory since the day you gave him the brownies, two months ago. He has grown fond of you, sitting at your table at the end of his shift without you having to ask. You also hang out outside of Aurora, going on frequent walks and discovering new food spots. He never felt that the conversation between you two was strenuous, or forced. It flowed naturally, like a waterfall knowing exactly where it should go.

He also finds that smiling is easy with you. At your jokes, your stories, and your existence. He's lost count of the times he found himself grinning widely at your words, or smiling softly to himself at the thought of you coming to Aurora soon.

"He's too full of himself to admit he's the one who sucks at teaching," Minho comments and you clap in agreement. 

"Right! And it's so funny because..." You're still talking but your words go unheard by Minho, like a mindless buzz in the back of his mind. He's frozen in his place, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage as he notices the couple who just came in.

His ex, with the man she cheated on him with. 

"Minho? What's wrong?" you call out, snapping him out of his daze. You're eying him worriedly, and only then does he realize how tightly he's holding the countertop. 

"Nothing," he curtly replies, as he plasters a neutral expression on his face. 

He watches as his ex's eyes widen slightly when she sees him. She forgot he was working here. Of course, it'd be easy to do so since she never visited him at Aurora anyways. Despite the flood of emotions cursing through him, Minho maintains a stoic facade, taking their orders as if she's a mere stranger and not the one behind his shattered heart.

As Minho attempts to prepare their coffee, his hand trembles uncontrollably, forcing him to stop before dropping the milk.

He didn't love her anymore, he was certain of it. But still, the sight of her brought unpleasant memories back to the surface. Ones he tried so hard to bury in the back of his mind. And Aurora was his sanctuary. One, she never tainted with her presence. Has she not taken enough from him already? 

"Minho?" you call out softly, and Minho feels guilty because he left you alone with no explanation. Still, when he turns around, he can tell you aren't upset. You are worried, looking at him cautiously. 

"Is everything okay?" you ask once again, and this time Minho can't find it in him to lie to you, so he simply shakes his head no. 

"Your hand is shaking," you observe, before gently grabbing it in yours. You cover his hand with both of your palms, squeezing it lightly to steady the tremors cursing through it. 

Your hand is warm, and very soft, a stark contrast to the sharp emotions surging within him, like pine needles puncturing his heart.

"Would you like me to serve them?" you ask softly, and Minho isn't surprised you picked up on his unease. You're perceptive, it's one of the things he likes about you. 

"Please," he responds quietly. You simply smile, reaching for an apron and wrapping it around your waist. You look adorable, intertwining yourself with his world, and the sight of you eases the ache in Minho's soul.

A few minutes later, you grab the tray from his hands and walk over to their table. Minho chuckles inwardly when he notices that you didn't smile at them, serving them with a blank face, and his chest warms a little.

He has you on his side. 

Five days later, you're sitting besides Minho on a bench; watching the sun as it dips into the ocean, painting the sky in hues of orange and yellow. Yet, the dazzling colors are the last thing on Minho's mind. All he can think about is you. How you helped him with serving the rest of the drinks that day, how he taught you how to work the coffee machines- a solace from the ugly feelings that roared in him.

"Thank you," he abruptly says and you turn to look at him, perplexed.

"For what you did the other day, with the couple that came in. That was, um... my ex and the person she cheated on me with," he confesses quietly, fiddling with his earlobe. He didn't need to tell you, but he wanted to. "I've moved on, it's just... seeing her again hurt. I don't know why." 

Your eyes soften at him, not in pity, but in care. And Minho doesn't mind being vulnerable with you. It's scaring him, but he doesn't mind.

"It's normal for it hurt, it would honestly be weird if it didn't," you smile gently and he sighs in reply, running a hand through his hair. 

"I wish it didn't."

"Love is a powerful feeling, it consumes our entire beings. That's why it hurts when our hearts are toyed with. But love itself doesn't hurt, I feel like it's what makes our world move. You know, the little gestures humans do for one another, that are fueled by love. Like, um... scratching someone's back or peeling someone's fruit. You don't have to do those things, but you do. Because you love the person, and it makes your existence feel gentler, and softer on the heart." You explain, the words leaving your mouth and wrapping around Minho's soul, healing parts of him that he didn't know were bruised.

"My point is, it's normal for you to be hurt. But I hope you don't close your heart entirely to the feeling. Because we may not have grand things in our life, but if there is a hand that brushes our tears away and one that folds our laundry, then that's enough for us to lead a beautiful life."

Minho blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep his tears at bay. He felt as if the letters you uttered unfolded and stretched in front of his eyes, morphing into a gentle hand patting his back. Yours.

You smile softly at him, the water's reflection shimmering in your eyes. And Minho thinks that he's standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into the unknown- into you. 

"How do you do it?" he chuckles in disbelief, as he leans a bit closer to you. "You make me want to believe in love again," he pauses, before adding quietly, "but only if it's with you." 

You remain silent as Minho fidgets with his fingers, before tentatively grabbing your hand in his. He doesn't look at you, his gaze fixated on the way your fingers naturally intertwine with one another- as if finding each other after a lifetime of being apart.

"You know, I'd thought I'd always live like this, keeping a comfortable distance between me and people," he says, raising his head to finally meet your eyes, "and up until now I thought I was content with it, with loneliness, I mean. But... but brownies taste sweeter when I'm with you, and Aurora is brighter when you are in it, and smiling feels like second nature around you. And I don't... I don't think I can go back to being lonely again, not when I've had a taste of you in my life." 

Minho's heart is beating wildly into his chest, and he can hear the blood rushing through his ears, frantically, as if to warn him against what he's about to say. But your thumb caresses his palm reassuringly and he wants to try again. With you.

"I- I never wanted to love again, because no one, none of it was ever worth the risk, but you... You are the only exception."

Minho exhales breathlessly and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to your chest. You hoped that your warmth would ease his nerves a bit, that your hand on his back would feel gentle on his soul. You didn't want to rush your answer, trying to think of something that will patch up the deeply carved scar in his heart, a perfectly made band-aid in the shape of syllables.

It's a foolish hope, you realize, to instantly quiet the cries of a bruised spirit. So you simply settle on saying the truth sitting on the edge of your tongue.

"It will be quite hard, and scary for you," you whisper placing a tender kiss on his shoulder blade. "But I'll help you, if you'd let me. I'll take care of your heart better than I do with my own."

vii.

"Hey, baby," you smile at Minho, slipping behind the counter to be by his side. He pulls you by your waist, kissing your cheek softly.

"I missed you," he pouts, and you giggle, playing with strands of his hair, "I missed you too."

"Do you know what day it is today?" he asks, a shy smile gracing his face.

"No...?" you trail out and he chuckles, taking your hand in his.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss my birthday. It's just... it's been a year since you first came into Aurora."

"You remember?" you ask in amazement, your heart swelling with love for the man standing before you.

"Mm, how could I forget you? Also," he sneakily points to a table near the back, "my favorite couple is back."

You turn around, a soft gasp escaping your mouth as you find Mark gently holding the hands of his date. You smile happily when you finally notice it- the wedding ring, finally back on his finger.

[alwaysshallow]

I've had a epiphany. (a self-indulgent one.)

Well not really- but I can't stop thinking about it and I wanna call it that so just ignore this

Parent Trap Captain! John! Price! X Reader

can be GN, I don't mind

Subtle changes like- they didn't meet on a cruise ship but actually dated some time during and after military school and then got married.

and they were just in a really rough patch when Reader! got pregnant so they decided to part ways

(and split the kids too! :D) lol.

Meet again 9 years later when Reader sends her kid off to camp at the same time as John.

Both the kids see them together (acting like ex-lovers and shi 🤭) but they don't see eachother until later that day and they're like "Woah! we look just like eachother! :oo"

Anyway you get the gist..

urs truly

💎 anon

i LOVE parent!trap au with john price oh my god anon. I JUST HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING

John never stopped loving you.

You hear this nine years after your divorce, when life decides to pull the greatest prank on you and both of you, you and your ex-husband, sent your kids to the same camp.

Twins, to be exact. They have no idea of the other one because it was supposed to be easier, to not see each other, at least until they're a bit older.

You talk to John out of simple human decency, with no intention to continue it whatsoever, especially not when your ex-husband has a smile wide like a Cheshire cat, and he's a devil in disguise. He just screams trouble, and he is one, when he shamelessly follows you to your car.

"It just seems like fate, binding us again" he leans against your car (his, he bought it himself, but insisted on leaving it to you). You want to tell him something about this, but you tie your mouth. If you're gonna go into bickering, he's gonna have a time of his life. He's just waiting for it.

"It seems like fate tells us that's the time for our daughters to meet–"

"–old Lucy is a little bit rusty." he hums, looking at your car. "There's a little dent here. I think I could fix it."

"You don't–"

"–probably needs a change of oil too. You've never been into cars, I need my kid to be safe and sound, you too, missus."

Missus. You want to fight him for that title, but he's just not listening. He's just asking questions and answering them himself, like you're not even a part of this conversation. The only times he pays attention is when he looks at you, his ocean blue eyes glistening, wrinkles in his eyes evident.

He's so different, yet, so familiar. Your daughter would love to meet his dad, probably.

You quickly brush that thought off your mind. You can't think like that. It's a trap, he wants you to think this way. You divorced with him for a reason.

[jessamine-rose]

⋆ Sunt Lacrimae Rerum ⋆

Of all devils, I didn’t think Lucifer would be the second to inspire his own one-shot. Fun fact, this idea was originally for my next set of WHB headcanons but it expanded into its own fic. Thanks for the brainrot and historical revelations, Lucifer ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Note:: Pre-release Lucifer, dacryphilia

♡ 0.8k words under the cut ♡

As Lucifer’s lover, you are a willing subject to his desires. The taste of your tears, the sight of your crying face, his influence over your body—all of it constitutes his forbidden fruit, one he can never get enough of.

Unfortunately, due to your roles in Hell, the two of you rarely have time for each other. Days can pass in Lucifer’s absence, in the company of other devils, in a haze of longing and insecurity. At times, you wonder: Does he miss you? How can you retain his favor in spirit?

The idea comes in the form of a memory. Once, while browsing the internet, you came across a photo of vintage “tear-catchers.” According to the description, the aesthetic vials were used by mourning Victorians; a few were even found in ancient Greek and Roman tombs. Granted, you’re still alive and your lover prefers fresh tears, but it would be a nice keepsake. A small part of you forever in his possession.

Thus begins your mission to prepare a special gift for Lucifer! First, you ask your friends to help you acquire a tear-catcher. After a few questions and odd looks, Ppyong brings you to the best craftsman in Gehenna. The glass-blower is also confused by your commission, but it doesn’t take long for them to create a personalized tear-catcher.

Next, you have to fill the vial with your own tears. This is achieved by watching sad movies, cutting onions, and following tutorials on how to cry. Now the final step is to present it to your beloved and witness his reaction~

⋆ ✦ ⋆

“Oh, what’s this?”

As expected, the tear-catcher is a perfect fit for Lucifer. Gilt, black enamel, and scarlet beads form a serpentine design. A ruby, sculpted in the shape of a familiar horn, serves as the stopper. Most curious are the contents, a clear liquid of higher viscosity than water.

On his desk rests an opened box and untied ribbons. Carefully, you place the gift in his hands and offer a bright smile.

“Do you like it? It was made just for you!”

He accepts it, eyes alight with curiosity. “This fluid feels familiar. Is this…?”

Your smile widens. “Yup, these are my tears! You’re probably familiar with tear-catchers, right? I commissioned a craftsman to make one, then I used it every time I cried. What do you think?”

A product of your blood, sweat, and tears—minus the blood.

For a few seconds, Lucifer just stares at the gift. Black nails carefully grip the bottle, tilting it ever so slightly to make the tears flow. You remain in front of his desk, shifting your stance.

Finally, he looks up. Gold eyes make contact with yours, bright with amusement.

“It’s pretty,” he comments. “And I can only imagine the effort it took to fill it with your own tears.”

He likes it! “You’re welcome!”

“But I do wonder,” he continues. He sets down the bottle, curiosity overtaking his features. “You do know that tear-catchers are a hoax, yes?”

…What?

He takes your silence as an answer. “No such item existed in the Victorian era or any historical period. In reality, what humans call ‘tear-catchers’ are actually perfume bottles. One of this type would typically be disposed of once empty.”

“I…I see.” Your smile falters, pride giving way to chagrin. “Of course, someone like you would’ve immediately recognized it if they were legit. Ahh now everyone’s reactions make sense.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A soft laugh interrupts your thoughts.

When you look up, the tear-catcher is off the desk. Lucifer holds it up to the light, a soft smile making its way to his face.

“Nonetheless, I appreciate the gesture,” he tells you. His eyes are blown wide, light against darkness. “And your pride was absolutely delicious, so do remain satisfied with your present. It will be of great comfort to me during our time apart.”

“I…all right!” Your cheeks remain flushed but no longer from embarrassment. “That is good to hear. At least my time wasn’t wasted.”

“Besides.” He rises from his desk, leaning closer to caress your cheek. “I prefer seeing your tears on your face. Won’t you indulge me again, ______?”

⋆ BONUS ⋆

______: SEVEN DAYS!!

Satan: What are they talking about?

Ppyong: It’s not that big of a deal—

Sitri: We wanted to honor your dedication—

______: That’s how long you stood by and watched me cry into a fake antique! Do you know how difficult it was to deposit my tears into such a tiny bottle?!

♡

Still hornii?? Read my other WHB fics <3

To think that I learned the truth of the tear-catcher because of an R18 game….y’all can also thank @diodellet for inspiring this idea during a chat about Genshin *cough* I highly recommend her Lyney fic *cough*

Among the devils we haven’t met yet, Lucifer piqued my interest by virtue of looking so pretty. I can’t wait to learn more about him~

Tag a WHB enjoyer!! @sparkbeast20 @2af-afterdark @pinkaditty @h2o2-and-baking-soda @paradivis @gr0tesquerom4ntica @dobaekki @obeythisass @karinyawhb22 @yanmaresu @jazeswhbvault @devilmen-collector

[fayerien]

Unforseen Flames — Michael Kaiser

warnings: fae prince! kaiser x mortal princess! reader, sfw, enemies to lovers, fantasy/royalty au, not proofread!

"I hate you so much because you're always on my mind. Everytime I close my eyes, your face keeps flashing right before my eyes. It's disgusting. But...I feel some sort of weird feelings."

"Did you know how hard I'm trying to calm the flames burning in my heart everytime I see you? And the only way to stop my hatred towards you is for me to make you mine."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:.·:*¨༺¨*:·.

Skipping the dancing class is not an uncommon thing for you to do. You always feel like it's really a troublesome. As usual you wandered around in the forest, hunting for some birds or maybe rabbits. It's hard to tame a rebellious princess especially in her teen age.

Another steps, you might lose your life in less than a minute. You stared at the dagger that stuck in the tree that is right beside you.

"You're passing my territory, ugly mortal."

The voice echoed in the forest but there's no one around you.

"Up here, mortal." Your eyes followed the voice until you can see a man sitting on a tree branch, looking at you with those blue eyes seems like he's trying to pierce your soul.

You studied his features, noticed he got the fair skin, blue eyes like a deep ocean, high bridge nose and ... a pair of pointy ears.

"Wow, didn't know that you own this place. Who are you?" You asked raising an eyebrow at him.

"You don't know me? How ignorant of you." He finally came down from the tree and landed on the ground. He grabbed the dagger that stucked in the tree and pointed it near your throat.

"Let me tell you one thing. I am a fae prince, Michael Kaiser. You have no rights to question me at all." His voice turned into a low whisper and you can clearly feel his breath tickling on your skin.

"Such an interesting introduction to someone you just met." You said mockingly while pushing the dagger away from your throat with your finger. "Well, you seems like you despise mortals very much. But, you can't lay a hand on me. Or else.. we might start a war."

You saw that Kaiser gritted his teeth in annoyance and decided to stop arguing with him. "Anyway, pleasure to meet you, Prince Kaiser. I'm y/n l/n. I wonder if you ever heard that name." You turned to look at him one last time flashing a not really genuine smile before leaving him flooded with his own thoughts.

Kaiser just standing there while holding his dagger in a tight grip, losing in his own thoughts. "That name sounds familiar. But why should I even bother thinking about an ugly human?" He left the forest, stomping around like a kid in his tantrum phase. Perhaps he forgot that he got wings.

• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• • •

He knows. He knows who you are from the start. And you got the feeling that he hates you. Very much. You woke up this morning and saw a letter with a blue rose on your dressing table.

Crap, this is not good.

You picked the letter, your eyes scanning every words on it.

"Meet me at yesterday's spot. Don't bring anyone else with you. If you fail to follow this, your life will be at stake."

The emperor

This is definitely him. Yes, Kaiser means emperor. You woke up very early this morning and he had the audacity to ruin it?!

You can just ignore the letter but a part of you wanted to mess with him more. You waited there, at the same place looking around if you could catch a glimpse of his existence. But you felt nothing around you, did he manage to conceal his presence?

"Why don't you just come out—" Not bothering to finish your sentence, you realized that now you're clashing steels with him.

"So you really want to fight me? or kill me to be precise?" You stared at him intently, still gripping on the sword tightly.

"Are you really that dumb? Why did you come here if you really know my intention?" You don't know why, but there's actually a slight irritation in his tone.

You pulled your swords away, keeping it on your side. "I found you interesting. I don't know why you hated me so much. And I'm trying to mess with you more." You smiled, trying to get him even more pissed.

"Don't you dare give me that smile. My eyes are burning."

"Oh, why? Are there no faeries as beautiful as a mortal like me?"

"Stop that."

"Or what? You're going to let a mortal blood spill on your hands? Don't you.. feel disgusted?" Oh you're pouring the oil to the flames again.

"No— I'll let you go this time. Just.. don't get in my way again." You're about to make things worse but he quickly flew away, leaving you dumbfounded. You noticed that there's actually a slight change in his tone. Was it anger, or..maybe nervous?

• • • • • •• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• •• •

Weeks passed. You didn't meet that creepy fae prince anymore. But, you feel different. His existence in your life make it more interesting.

"Maybe I should meet him, again." You thought.

You waited at the same spot, thinking he might appear again to start another fight and banter with you. "yes, he's not here. Why would I think he might be here again— oh."

"Hey,...y/n" He said your name. He fcking said it.

"Oh, hey. Ah, sorry for intruding your territory—" You're about to run away from him but that damn faerie is faster than you. He quickly blocked your way.

"Wait, I want you to stay here. For a while." There's a hint of pleading behind that voice.

"You're acting weird today, fae prince."

"You ...are still alive after these few weeks."

"Well, of course I am. Unless, if you come to assassinate me."

"Yeah....great." Why is he so awkward today? "I don't want you to be killed by other people than me." Trying to be nonchalant it seems.

"So I should be ready to die now? But I need to know the reason why you hate me so much."

He froze, and this wasn't the reaction you were expecting.

"No reason. I just despise every human—"

"You're lying." You said firmly.

"Yes, I am. I hate you so much because I feel a strong attraction towards you. You're haunting me and my mind. It's disgusting. My heart is burning everytime I see you. But it aches so much, when I stay here waiting for you to come, but no one's here."

"You were waiting for me?"

"Yes, because I want to have another fight with you. Another banter with you."

You mind was still a bit mess trying to process every word he said.

"So, to stop my hatred towards you. I want to make you mine."

"What?! Oh. So you're actually madly in love with me but you're still in denial." You said playfully, trying to tease the prince even though you're still unsure.

"Shut up. I really want to kill you right now. With my kiss." He was trying so hard to hide the smile behind those words.

"Wow. So cruel."

"Only towards you, my mortal princess."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:.·:*¨༺¨*:·.

[riphobisbraces]

The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader

Hybrid/Royal AU

~ chapter 2 ~

[ word count: 3400+ ]

❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 x reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror

❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, I'm not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won't be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I'm willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can't do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask! 🖤)

——— summary ———

In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?

[ chapter 2 ]

chapter content warnings: possible emetophobia warning: mentions of needing to throw up (character doesn’t actually throw up though) and unintentional self-harm.

The cold night’s air trickled between Namjoon’s thick fur. Millions of thoughts ran through his mind, faster than the paws carrying him and the princess. What was the princess doing outside? Why did she look so familiar and most of all, are his pack mates okay?

Growling out of frustration whilst running into the night, he shakes those thoughts out. For now he has only one thing he needs to focus on. Getting you to safety and he knows exactly where you’ll be safe.

-

Multiple hurried footsteps and panicked screams filled the room. It was chaos. What was a joyful and merry evening turned into absolute havoc.

The once golden room suddenly having turned cold and blue, its warmth having completely washed away. Hobi quickly ran and tried to push through the crowd looking for any of his pack mates. It seemed impossible with the sea of people engulfing him.

Just as Hobi started to feel hopeless, he found two of his pack members, Jin and Jimin, spotting them from across the room. Hobi used his hands to cup around his face before yelling desperately “JIN! JIMIN-AH! “ The two instantly recognized that voice.

They both quickly snapped their heads into the direction of where it came from, spotting their fellow pack mate trying to make his way through the wave of people. What after seemed like forever, they all finally reached each other, Jin grabbing onto Hoseok’s hands.

“Where are the others” Jin quickly questioned. “I don’t know, you’re the first two that I found” replied Hoseok. Jimin starts glancing around, running his hand through his hair as he pondered.

“Well wherever they are, they can handle themselves. For now we have to neutralize the threat.” Jimin asserts before turning to his fellow knight and pack member, Hoseok. “Hobi, you were the one who alerted that the princess was being attacked, where did the arrow come from?” Questioned the knight.

Hobi doesn’t waste time in answering, “Follow me, I know what direction it came from. Possibly even the shooting location” briskly, Hobi starts making his way to where he suspects it came from, with Jin and Jimin following closely and quickly behind.

-

The temperature around your body is warm. You feel snug and drowsy. Hearing the crackle of fire wood just makes you want to fall back even deeper into your slumber.

The smell of cedar filling your nostrils, comforting you furthermore. Shifting around and moving your legs, you start to feel the softness of blankets underneath, gliding against your skin as you moved. You start to wonder when was the last time you felt this pleasant..

Alas the sudden realization of what had just transpired abruptly started streaming back into your head. Quickly, you sat up, instinctively backing up and grabbing onto whatever was underneath you which happened to be the same blanket that had just brought you so much comfort.

“Your highness, you’re awake” a deep voice suddenly declared, making you shoot your head into the direction it came from. Letting go of the blanket in defense you realized it was the same man from before, the wolf hybrid. He was sitting beside your bedside in a wooden chair.

You didn’t get to have a good look at him before due to the havoc but now that you are, you realized that he’s a gorgeous man. He had tan skin and dark siren-like eyes. His hair was dark, adorned with an undercut.

You found yourself studying his features, they were soft and welcoming. As you sat in silence, taking in the man before you, the same voice suddenly interrupted your admiration. “your highness? are you alright?” his face contorted into worry.

How embarrassing. “y-yes, I am alright.” You answered before quickly looking down to avoid the man you had just been in awe of. Feeling his gaze burn into you, you can’t help but look back up, taking in your surroundings instead, trying to ignore the man obviously examining you with his eyes.

The room was lit with an orange hue from the fire, the room being much smaller than any you’ve ever been in before. Instead of the white walls and golden accents you were accustomed to, you were surrounded by walls of bark.

The walls simply decorated with some little paintings here and there. Looking around some more you noticed this room had no windows, how peculiar you thought to yourself. You noticed some bookshelves hung on the wall above the fireplace across from you, filled with old and torn books much like your own books.

Once you felt you’ve taken in enough of your surroundings and felt more at ease about the man that was studying you, you looked back down. Examining the sheets you were covered in, you realized they were a maroon shade. the colour was dull but you could tell it had been a vivid maroon at some point, or even red.

You decide to finally ask the questions that had been on your mind since you woke up. “Where am I? Are my parents okay?” you asked feebly, ashamed and feeling as though these circumstances were all your fault. Still looking down, you grip onto the sheets once again awaiting his answer.

“You’re at my pack’s den. Kings orders were to get you away from the chaos until it was deemed safe. Unfortunately I don’t know about the well being of your parents but as you might know, your mother didn’t attend the ball, just your father. Last I heard, he was being led to safety.” He replied with a gentle voice, as to not stress you out anymore than you already are. Sighing you let go of your grip to hold your face. covering your eyes, you just sit there, not wanting to cry in front of a stranger especially as princess.

You were to be queen one day and queens cannot show weakness, especially to their subjects. Your heart filled with rue, you decide to let go of your face. Turning to the man once again. “Your name…. It’s sir Namjoon.. right?” you inquired. His eyes widening from the sudden question and the fact that you knew his name.

You must of heard it when Hoseok was talking to him. His face quickly turns from surprise to a gentle smile “yes your highness, my name is Namjoon. Sir Kim Namjoon.” he confirmed.

He then got up from his seat to bow, before gently grabbing your hand with both of his. Softly, he brought it to his lips, you could feel his breath against your hand before he bestowed a kiss of respect upon it, his lips ever so slightly brushing against it. You’re used of servants bobbing you a curtsy or kissing your hand out of respect but this feels different.

You could feel your face start to get hot at the contact, stomach contorting into a ball of what feels like butterflies trying to fight their way out. Taking your hand back, you glance back at the man, met with the same warm smile you had been examining before.

Scratching the back of your neck, you quickly turn your head to face the other way, an attempt at looking at anything but the beautiful man in front of you. You knew your face was probably the colour of crimson so this was as an attempt of hiding that. Glancing around, you remembered how there were no windows, what time was it?

The last thing you remembered was riding away from the palace on top of the wolf hybrid. Had you fallen asleep? You looked for a clock in vain before briskly turning back to face the very man you were just trying to avoid eye contact with. “Ummm… how long was I sleeping for? What time is it?” You questioned, fidgeting with your hands, a bit embarrassed that you had fallen asleep on the hybrid.

“Oh! I apologize, it is the next day. it’s….” he looked down at his watch “09:37” looking back up at you he continued “speaking of, my pack should be back soon, along with your servants and a carriage to escort you back to the palace” he smiled. It’s the next day? You slept for so long, and he had to watch you the whole time.

Your guilt growing, you look down at your hands. Your chest weighing you down, you uttered “I’m… I’m sorry.. I fell asleep on you...” you sniffled. Surprised by your own unexpected moment of weakness, you really didn’t want to cry but you just couldn’t fight the tears.

Oblivious to the man’s sudden worried expression, you continued “and you had to watch me… all night… it’s all my fault, I-I put your pack in d- danger-“ you tried to continue as the lump in your throat fought to take over. But before it could, abruptly, your vision is covered.

Large arms are wrapped around you. They feel warm and comforting. You’re being gently pressed against a broad chest before you realize, he’s hugging you. His scent and warmth instantly calming you down.

Your muscles relaxed and you went loose while you breathed in his scent, closing your eyes. Slowly breathing in and out to calm yourself down, you just sat on the bed, letting yourself be embraced by the man. The embrace is cut short by the realization of what Namjoon had just done.

Gently pulling away, “Y-your highness…” he stammered, clearly embarrassed and quite frankly, scared of what he had just done. Standing up straight, he explained “please forgive me, that was out of line. it’s just… you looked so sad..I felt…” he continued, letting go of your arms to run his hands through his hair but before he could finish, the sound of horses and footsteps cut him off, making the both of you stand up.

-

“thank you once again sir Namjoon, to you and your pack for keeping the princess safe and your services” Your father’s servant said to Namjoon, bowing gratefully to the wolf hybrid. “ it’s really no problem, we are glad to be of service to the king” the hybrid replied, returning the bow.

Your fathers leading officers and servants had come to pick you up from Sir Namjoon’s and his pack’s den. Sitting in the carriage, you stared at the man who had saved you the night before. Pondering of what had transpired just before your father’s men had arrived.

You’ve never been held before by anyone before but your parents and governess. It felt nice. the different body type holding you, way bigger than your parents or governess’ body. It made you feel at ease and protected.

Suddenly your stare is met with his, his head turning to face you. He flashes you a smile before you quickly look down in embarrassment, fiddling with your hands. How rude of you, this man had just saved your life and you repay him by staring?

Footsteps interrupt your mental self beating, realizing they belong to the wolf hybrid that had saved you the night before. He’s coming this way, why do you feel so nervous? “Your highness?” he inquires.

“yes?” You answer with a small smile. “Im very sorry about… what happened in the den. I was out of line and I can only hope you and your father could forgive me for crossing such boundaries” all he did was hug you. You knew it was only a problem because you were the princess but what if you weren’t… would he….

You cut your own thoughts off. You can’t be thinking like that. “oh.. yeah.. please pay it no mind, I really didn’t mind… I actually.. quite enjoyed it.” You admit, mentally slapping yourself as soon as you said so.

A flush quickly took over his face, heart skipping a beat before he started smiling widely. “well.. me too.. you’re highness.” he also admits. You’re both looking at each other, smiling in silence.

Rubbing your hands together nervously, no one’s ever looked at you for this long before and neither have you ever looked at someone for so long. You didn’t want to admit it but for some reason, you wanted to be held by him again, to have his arms around your body, keeping it in a cocoon of safety and maybe… maybe even love-

“WE’RE OFF IN TWO MINUTES” the sound of your fathers men startled you from your thoughts, maybe for good reason too. “well, I guess I’m off.” The hybrid proclaimed with a half smile. “Me too I guess” you responded.

He then reached into the carriage to grab your hand, gently brushing a kiss against it once more just like he did inside, making your heart flutter. He then bowed and said “goodbye Princess. I hope our paths cross again one day” he smiled. You felt your stomach do flips as you looked down.

You uttered a shy “goodbye sir Namjoon… so do I” before looking back up. Looking into each others eyes, you smiled at each other one last time, the hybrid giving you a nod before reluctantly turning away. “MEN, WE’RE OFF” and just like that, the carriage started to move, finding that your eyes never left the man and the direction he was going.

While watching him, you notice his figure was suddenly accompanied by 6 other ones, all walking into the den you had just vacated in. Who were they? Looking back into the front of the carriage, reality started to sink in and your circumstances.

Realizing your parents were waiting for you back home, a sinking feeling settles in. You are in so much trouble.

-

Sitting in the plush chair in your room, you can’t help but think about the men from last night. Hobi, was it? And Namjoon. They were both very attractive yes but truth is, that wasn’t the only reason you kept thinking about them.

Who were they? What were they doing at the ball and why did they seem to know you? Sitting back on the chair, you brought your legs up, holding them against your chest.

Most importantly, how did Hobi know you were the princess? Sure he said you smelt of human but don’t other human hybrids do too? You are a full human though you thought to yourself. Maybe that’s it. You were missing the hybrid scent and perhaps he put two and two together, you and your parents are the last full humans in the nations after all.

Groaning, you slightly swung your head back in frustration. You need to see them again, you thought to yourself. You need answers. Knocking brings you out of your rumination, “your highness?” A voice spoke behind your doors.

“yes?” You replied. “your presence is requested in the courtroom by your Father” Shit. You knew your father would be livid about all of this but the courtroom?

What was he up to? Was he going to send you away? All of these worries ran through your head before you stood up. Turning toward the door, you croaked out a pathetic “I’ll be there in five minutes”.

-

Your steps echoed the hallways, shoes clacking against the marble. Hugging yourself while walking, you can’t help but tighten your grip around your arms the closer you get to the courtroom. Your eyes trailing the passing paintings hung alongside the hallway, a feeble attempt to keep your mind calm.

Alas it’s futile as your thoughts keep running your mind rapid. What if father sends me to a nunnery you think, you’ve never been away from your parents your whole life so this frightens you. Or worse, what if he decides to keep you locked up in one of the dungeons for the rest of your life.

You find your nails starting to dig into your skin, you need to throw up. You stop and kneel. Coughing as you hold on to your stomach. Nothing is coming out.

You can’t throw up but you need to. Tears started beaming through your eyes before you quickly got up. You dusted yourself off and wiped your tears. You need to do this. You need to get it over with.

As you continue your way down. The doors of the courtroom finally come into sight, making your heart drop. ‘This is it’ you think to yourself. You feel as though you’re not in control, you just want to run away but your body is calmly walking toward the doors with no hesitation.

Reaching for the handle, you gently turn it, using your weight to push it open. Why can’t you run, you just want to turn back. Entering the room, the discussion within it instantaneously became quiet. All eyes turned to face you.

A large L shaped table sat in the middle of the room, your Father at the end of the L. The courtroom had high ceilings and tall windows, velvet red curtains draped over them. You cleared your throat, ignoring the eyes on you, you held your head up high and calmly began to make your way to the end of the table, where your father was.

The once clamorous room, was now filled with nothing but the clacking of your shoes against marble. All you could feel were dozens upon dozens of burning gazes, almost making you trip as you walk. Once you made it to the end, you looked at your father.

Meeting eyes with his, his face is filled with sadness but somehow also solace. Without warning, something overtakes you. You thought you could do it but your Fathers’ face had made you weak. You were guilty.

You sank to the floor almost mimicking the way your heart felt. Kneeling down, you placed your forehead to the ground, hands placed side by side. Gasps and muttering quickly filling the courtroom at the spectacle, silencing as fast as they started at the wave of your Father’s hand. His sight never leaving you, “Father…” you weakly whispered.

“Please, forgive me… I can’t-“ you were about to finish when you heard a chair being pushed back. You looked up, your father was walking briskly toward you. You were scared but then you noticed his eyes were glossy.

He quickly picked you up from off the floor, embracing you like he never had before. “Daughter…” you hear your father choke out. your eyes were wide when they suddenly filled with tears at the realization and relief.

Feeling safe, you quickly wrapped your arms around him. Oh how you loved your father. After a few minutes, your father pulls away from the hug, wiping your tears. “a future queen should never cry in public” he reminded you, smiling.

You chuckled at the joke “yes father” looking down as he pushes your hair behind your ears. He was so glad that you were safe, he didn’t even care about the disobedience. One thing was made clear to him though, he could not stop you. So if he couldn’t stop you, you would just have to be protected at all times.

“Daughter, I know I cannot stop your desires to leave the palace, I can see that clearly now..” he admits shamefully while looking down. “and because of last nights threat, you will have to be guarded at all times, even more so than before” your heart began to palpitate in excitement. Wait… does this mean.. you can leave the palace?

Looking into your fathers eyes with anticipation, you spoke up “what are you saying father?”. Your father sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose “you may leave the palace from time to time, but you must be guarded by all seven while doing so.”

all seven? You cocked your head in confusion before your father registered your questioning look, clearing his throat before continuing “because of last nights threat, the court and I have decided you need to be guarded at all times” guarded? Like, a babysitter? “by whom?” You inquired.

Your father snaps his fingers, signalling to one of his servants to bring whoever it is, in. Hurriedly, the servant runs to the other door connecting to the next room, opening it. The men who came waltzing in, made your breath hitch.

It was seven handsome knights, two of them being the same men from the night before, Hobi and Namjoon. After quickly scanning them, your eyes met with Namjoon’s. A smirk appearing on his face. “I bet you didn’t think our paths would cross again so soon, your highness.”

A/N: OOOOOOOO cliffhanger! I know I said we would meet the boys this chapter but I didn’t want to rush things, howeverr I PROMISE we will meet the rest of them in the upcoming chapter :) anyway what did you think of the chapter? Any notes are deeply appreciated, especially comments. It makes me so happy that people are actually reading this, I promise I’ll do my best to deliver! Have a good rest of your day/night everyone, I’m gonna get started on chapter three once I wake up tomorrow ☺️

P.s I was asked about a tag list, so if anyone is interested, just ask! I’ll be putting the tag list on the next chapter xx

Next chapter:

[crusty-chronicles]

Yu Yu Hakusho Men Reacting to Receiving Flowers

Synopsis: How the men of Yu Yu Hakusho react to receiving flowers and if they'd get you some in return 🌺

Yusuke💥

He pretends to be offended, but honestly it makes his heart melt

The fact that you went out of your way to actually buy him something makes him feel special.

Doing it just because without expecting anything grand in return.

If you give him flowers in private, he puts up less of a fuss.

“I'm not sick or anything, you know. Besides, you could've just plucked some weeds instead of spending so much money.” He says after (not so) begrudgingly taking the small bouquet from you.

Already knowing they won't last more than a week in his care. But still trying to hide the heat rising to his cheeks.

But if you give him flowers in front of his friends, namely Kuwabara, he makes a big show of it.

“What am I? A girl? Or did you just wanna take on gardening, because there's no way in hell you actually got me flowers.”

You end up calling him a jerk before leaving.

And he feels really bad after.

Despite his tough guy act, he genuinely does care about you and hates to see you upset. Especially when it's because of him and his big mouth.

So he shows up later to your house with an even bigger bouquet of roses.

“I'm sorry for being an ass. I didn't mean it I just…didn't want- Well, Kuwabara would never let me live it down.” He tries to explain.

But you weren't buying it, judging by how you still hadn't opened your door all the way. So he tries to apologize again the only way he knows how.

“I'll take you out wherever you want for a week if you let me in?” He says hopefully.

“That's not enough. You really hurt my feelings today.”

“Two weeks. And I'll buy you flowers every day. Your favorites~ sunflowers.”

He keeps true to his word and makes sure to always accept whatever you gift him with a huge smile from now on.

No matter if it makes him look like a softie or not.

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

Kurama🦊

He's thrilled

Will point out and explain what every flower means.

What each part of the bouquet symbolizes

Please buy this man red roses

As cliche as they are, they symbolize love. Your love.

And he can't help but be smitten by the fact.

He's not the slightest embarrassed whether you give them to him in public or private.

Even if the others tease him for it, he'll just come up with a witty remark to shut them down.

“Maybe they think you're a girl after all,” Yusuke said, followed by another taunt from Kuwabara.

“His delicate features got to them.”

“What a funny way of saying the two of you have never thought of getting your partners flowers before? You do know Valentine's Day is coming up right?” Kurama shut down.

And the both of them start racing to the nearest boutique. Pushing and shoving each other out of the way.

When you gift Kurama flowers, they don't wither away within a few weeks.

Instead he'll use his demon energy to keep them alive for years.

Might even plant some of them to make a new bouquet for you in the future.

All in all, it's one of the few gestures that makes his heart beat just a little bit faster. And he cherishes each and every bud.

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

Hiei ⚔️

He could care less tbh

He isn't all that familiar with human gestures, so he doesn't know what to make of it when you present him with a bouquet

“Are you taunting me?” He asks.

And you have to explain to him that sometimes humans like to gift flowers to their lovers as a way to show affection.

He personally thinks it's a waste of time and energy. A few weeds that shrivel up and die within a week are supposed to symbolize your feelings? Why waste your human currency when he can just show you affection through his actions. i.e. watching over you.

He tells you as much too, but the second he sees you deflate, he quickly snatches them up.

Grumbling out a ‘Don’t start sulking like a child. I didn't say I rejected your little gift.’ And a ‘Next time don't bother. Come to me directly.’

Hiei will only receive your flowers in private.

You will not be able to catch him in public to give them to him.

In fact, he rarely goes out during the day. Preferring to wait for you at home.

He will also not mention it to the others and trusts you'll do the same.

Your relationship is private, and he prefers to keep it that way.

While Hiei personally doesn't see the appeal of giving flowers, he knows you do.

Which is why you wake up one morning to see a single white orchid on your pillow

And he'll deny it was ever him that left it there.

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

Bonus Jin🌪️

The purest of bois

He's absolutely ecstatic when you give him flowers

Like Hiei, he doesn't understand many human gestures. But it's the fact you're giving him something that makes him so happy.

You could probably give him a rock and he'd have the same reaction

He eventually asks you why you brought him flowers.

And when you say it's because you love him, he's practically jumping with joy. Picking you up in a strong hug and swinging you around a few times before placing a smooch on your cheek.

“You've got me ears wigglin’ and everything!” And sure enough, the tips of his ears are jittering about in excitement.

He'd like to return the favor and get you flowers just as beautiful however-

“We've got a few pretty plants in demon world, but they'd probably bite your head clean off. Woosh! Just like that.” He explains.

He settles for bringing you little wildflowers whenever he has a chance to visit instead.

He's a little fascinated to find out there's meaning behind each flower.

He just figured they were pretty and that's it.

When you tell him a baby’s breath (which he thinks is an incredibly weird name for a flower) means long lasting love, he swears he can feel his face warm.

So he tries to find you flowers that hold meaning too.

The color red always seems to mean love, so most of the flowers he gifts to you in return are that color.

He's just an absolute sweetheart all around 🥺

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

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💘

[slashy-hanako]

Dead by Daylight Killers Being Jealous

Reader insert, no use of Y/N, gender neutral.

This is my first time writing on this account, I hope you like it. 

Characters included: Anna (Huntress), Caleb Quinn (Deathslinger), Danny Johnson (Ghostface).

☠Warnings: Blood and gore, strong language, sexual themes.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

♥ Anna - The Huntress ♥ 

Such an athletic and skillful woman would prove to be a great challenge for anyone looking to reach your heart. Behind the mask, there is a face marked by war and famine but still beautiful with its modest charm. Anna is a territorial lover, you are hers and anyone who crosses the line she sets will meet her hatchets. She is violent with her impulses, you would have to stop her from acting upon simple interactions you might have with friends, such as friendly hugs or hand-shakes. Anna does not try to hide her feelings, it will take a good time to educate her about the boundaries of what is appropriate, and even if she loosens her grip on you a little she will still overreact if she sees someone actively flirting with you.

It was a cold evening, you found yourself shaking even near the campfire, your body trembled and your skin arched in response to the chilling wind biting through your defenses, even with a coat the fog seemed to swallow all the heat from the surroundings. You could not bear it any longer and indulged in the request of a survivor to keep you warm, lying by their side so they could wrap their arms around your frame. You knew they liked you, and it felt terribly wrong to allow them to be this close just because you needed it, still you ignored the thoughts and closed your eyes. You felt warm and were finally able to sleep. 

As the hours passed, your slumber was interrupted by the feeling of strong hands holding your waist, it was not like the other survivor who had kept you warm through the night, it was different. You felt the hot breath of the broad figure behind you, so close to your neck, the voice that hummed a lullaby was the familiar one of the Huntress. You were shocked, wondering how she got there, but you remained silent as she embraced you tightly and placed a leg over you, you were being squeezed and it was all the warmth you ever needed.

When she left, after you had proper rest, the camp was empty; she had scared all the other survivors, luckily violence was not allowed outside of trials, but she would sharpen her hatchets to focus on a certain someone who dared to take advantage of your vulnerability.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

♥ Caleb Quinn - The Deathslinger ♥

Caleb was a rough man, unpolished and disheveled all around, he never felt confident about his appearance, or his age, or his personality; he didn’t have much during his life, and his passions had been stolen from him, but not anymore. He is not one to express it loudly, it is difficult to read his deadpan expression, but when his left eye twitches and he clenches his teeth it is because something is bothering him. 

He might pin you against a wall and be direct with his questions about what is happening, Caleb is blunt like a mace and too anxious to allow the possibility of someone taking you from him, and when he gets a name things will be complicated.

It was not unusual for relationships to blossom amidst survivors, the time in the entity’s realm would go so slowly sometimes that having another human to hold was what kept one from snapping. You had seen a certain someone stealing glances at you, during the trials they would constantly follow you around and on occasion even pulled you with them inside a locker, claiming that it was to keep you safe. You had noticed those advances, but your heart belonged to someone else, and this someone had a dead aim. 

It was a trial like any other, if not for the fact that the Slinger was not paying too much attention to you and the other two survivors, instead he would chase only one person, the same one who kept flirting with you every time you were together. You knew exactly what was happening, but you would not dare saying it in front of Caleb, if you accused him of being jealous he would be mad. Instead, you focused on doing the gens while he kept your friend on the ground, watching them crawl around like a slug.

The bounty-hunter would follow the miserable soul, his boots oftenly making contact with their body as he kicked them around and smirked, delighted with the cruelty and suffering. “If I see your hands on them again, I will make sure you can no longer use them.” He would mumble, piercing the back of the survivor with the spear of his marvelous weapon; Death to Shorebay, what a masterful piece of art that gun was, perfect for torture as the Deathslinger kept the harpoon stuck in the survivor’s body to drag them around until they bled out. 

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

♥ Danny Johnson - The Ghostface ♥

As an inquisitive spectator, Danny has watched survivors from far away, he had his moments of voyeurism and shameless photography while invading their privacy, be it inside or outside trials, after all there are no rules against making pin ups with pictures. But you were especially intriguing to him, you knew someone had been following you, leaving mysterious notes for you to read, mostly with strange questions and nonsensical observations; ‘What is your favorite horror movie?’ had been the start, followed by a note written in blood ‘You like a man with a knife?’, it was disturbing and you expected it to be a prank from one of the survivors, maybe someone was just having a good time laughing at how distressed you became. 

But time worked its wonders and soon you dismissed these events as nothing but a hoax from your friends. You could sleep in peace, and it was during one of these moments of careless slumber that you were awakened by the feeling of gloved hands caressing your skin, groping, pinching, someone wanted to call your attention. When you opened your eyes, there was the sight of the Ghostface white mask, his hand covered your mouth so you would not scream, and he showed you his knife, running the tip of it delicately over your chest. Was he crazy? Killers were not allowed to do that outside of trials.

“Now keep your fucking mouth shut, darling.” He warned, caring little about the entity’s rules “I will not hurt you, at least not now.” His voice sent shivers down your spine, he was too close. “I saw you are getting close to that… What is their name…? Uh… I forgot.” He shook his head “I thought we had something, you know. I sent you so many letters and now you betray me, holding hands with that lame bag of flesh.” It made sense now, he was the one stalking you. 

Danny was delusional for sure, he had lived too much inside his own head, with his sick fantasies and distaste for society in general. A man like him lived only to spread violence, chaos, he was an avatar of decay.

“I will give you one last chance, next time we meet, you bring them to me, and I will pretend this never happened.” Then he cleared his throat “If you don’t…” He pressed his left hand on your neck, the mist enveloped him, threatening to take him for punishment for crossing the lines, then his grip loosened “You are mine. Remember that.” He muttered, standing up and tossing a picture at you, before disappearing in the shadows.

The picture was a nice one of you in an intimate moment with someone else, but their head was cut from the picture. 

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

[fieldofdaisiies]

Forget me Not | Azriel X F!Reader pt. 2

Summary: They loved each other more than words could describe, but they were star-crossed lovers and their fate was doomed, especially when their worst nightmare came true. But is their love strong enough to survive this nightmare and can their souls one day be truly united?

Warnings: references to past trauma

Word Count: 2,8K

Notes: I am so very lucky that I met @moonlightazriel and that I can call her my friend (mate hehe); you are an incredibly wonderful human being, an amazing friend and working with you on this story was just brilliant 💙 read her first part here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doorbell rang again which made Azriel finally lift his head off the screen, his phone in his hand. “Give me a moment,” he told the person on the other side of the line and got up. With lazy steps he walked to his door, grumbling some incomprehensive words of being disturbed and interrupted while working. Azriel peeked through the door viewer, squinted his eyes to get a better look and then–

His hand which held the phone fell to his side and his lips parted. The woman standing outside his door was without doubt the most beautiful he had ever seen and he could even tell that although you were wearing a winter coat, gloves, and a hat. Azriel quickly lifted his phone to his ear. “I’ll call you back tomorrow. Just put the papers on my desk.”

He did not let his assistant argue, just ended the call. Azriel inhaled a deep breath, then another one, straightened his posture and moved his hand to the door handle. Then he opened the door and his eyes landed on you – finally he could take you in fully, his lips parted a little while his eyes went wide. Your gaze lifted to his – you had not at all expected him, your new boss, to look like that.

And then it struck you.

It somehow felt like you knew him, like you had seen him before which made no sense. You had only moved into this city recently, had never been to this there before, but something about him seemed oddly familiar. You simply looked at him for a moment, somehow expectant, but also because you forgot what you had wanted to say. He was so beautiful, the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and your brain forgot how to work. Eventually you caught yourself and realised that neither of you had said anything yet and you had to speak up at some point. After all you wanted this job – rather needed it. You had to speak up and act serious despite what his appearance and his looks did to you. You cleared your throat which drew Azriel’s eyes to yours, his lips forming a tiny smile. “I am Y/N Y/L. I am the new house keeper. I am filling in for Sophie who is on maternity leave now.” You spoke in a soft and steady voice, trying to calm the inner nervousness with taking in slow breaths.

The man, Azriel as you knew, nodded and said, “Pleasure to meet you. Azriel. I am the owner of this place.” His low voice rumbled through your body. 

Azriel internally face-palmed himself – obviously he was the owner of this place, what else would he be doing here…

You chuckled a little and he let you in, you followed him inside and gaped at the size of his apartment. From Sohpie you knew that he was rich and that he lived in a big flat, but you had never thought it would be that ginormous. “Here, please. You can put your clothes here.” Azriel showed you the wardrobe, where you could put your coat and stuff. It was winter outside and you still shivered a little from the cold. “May I?” he asked and when you nodded, Azriel helped you out of your coat and then you pulled your hat off. Azriel couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, you were so beautiful and you–

You reminded him of someone. But he could not tell who. It was like he had met you before, and…he did not know. It was an odd feeling and got even odder when you slipped out of your gloves and his eyes fell to your hands. The marred skin there…The marred skin…He drew in a sharp breath and then…He had seen scars like that before, somehow he a had a clear picture of them in his mind and that irritated him. 

“I was born with them. Probably inherited, or so the doctors said,” you explained, having noticed his eyes on your hands. He quickly lifted his face and looked into your eyes again, whispering a quick apology to which you lifted your hand, waving him off. “Don’t worry. It is alright. Now where do we, or rather I start?”

“Well.” Azriel brushed his hands down his thighs. “I would like for you to come here two times a week – Monday, Thursday, just like Sophie did. Did you discuss with her what you have to do?”

You shook your head, not really having talked with Sophie about that. She had only told you about how handsome Azriel was and that he was practically rolling in money – both things were now confirmed. Azriel guided you to the living room where you sat down on the couch to discuss further details. “Alright,” he said and smiled, his cheeks a little rosy. You looked at him expectantly and waited for him to continue.

“So, two times a week. I would love for you to do the basic chores. Cleaning the flat two times a week, I like it very neat and tidy, that is why. The windows need cleaning only once a month. I would like for you to change the bedsheets once a week, put out the trash once a week and wash my clothes once a week. That is it.”

That sounded alright. Even if it wasn’t the job your had on top of your list, it was the only one that worked alongside uni and so it was alright. It really was, especially with a boss that sounded genuine and looked like a Greek god. Well, the last part did not really matter but it was a nice benefit. “So I am starting today and then return next Monday,” you said and Azriel offered to show you the whole house and where exactly you had to do what. 

The place was simple, he only had very basic furniture and little to no decoration, but still it was beautiful and you liked it a lot. Also the lack of decoration was very beneficial cleaning wise. 

After your first day where you got all the explanations you returned to Azriel’s place for a few weeks every Monday and Thursday and all was going really well. Azriel was incredibly kind and you quickly created a friendly workplace relationship with him. There was nothing more between the two of you, of course not, just some nice small talks and easy conversations. It was all going good until one day. 

You brushed your hand down the pillow, adjusting it a little, Azriel’s scent somehow lingering in the room. Your eyes lifted to mirror on the opposite side when you pulled on the sheets and made them look neat on top of his bed. And suddenly–

A flash of memories, or rather pictures filled your brain. Your knees felt weak and you closed your eyes, giving yourself to the memories. A man – not a man, Azriel– moaned against your as he relaxed on top of you, rolled over and pulled you to his side, your head rested on his chest. You could hear the soft sound of his heartbeat and then his lips parted and he–

“Give me a few days, and we will be far away from here. My love for you is bigger than the universe.” 

You ripped your eyes open, tumbling a little and quickly grabbed the lower bedframe to steady yourself. Your heart was racing in your chest and you knew you had to get out of this room. What the hell had that been? Why did you…? When did you sleep with Azriel? What the actual hell was going on? The room you had been in was not modern, it had looked ancient and…Did you have sex fantasies about him? Maybe you should quit that job if making his bed did that to you?

You quickly collected the broom, and headed for the door, dashing outside and downstairs only to come to a quick halt. 

“See and that is why I am here, Azriel. You need a woman to help you with that kind of things.” The blond woman grinned up at Azriel, just when you stopped at the bottom of the staircase. 

“Oh, hello?” she turned to you. Not only her. Also Azriel’s, his eyes wide open. “Y/N,” he said, but added nothing more, like he was surprised to see you. Which was odd. It was Thursday. It was rather you who was surprised. He was home earlier, a lot earlier than expected and he had company. For the past days you had often asked yourself if he had a girlfriend, but there was no indication he did. Well, now there was and that made some part inside of you really sad. Which was stupid. Someone like him would anyways never be with someone like you. In society you were at least 5 levels below him and he would never choose you. He would never…Some more images filled your brain, and you felt a little dizzy. 

You shuddered, your breathing speeding up and gathered that you might be going crazy. 

“I don’t want to get married, to anyone but you. And I don’t care  what my father says, let’s go, somewhere far away from here.”

Well, you definitely were going crazy. “Y/N, I am the house keeper. Pleasure to meet you. But I really need to go. I am in a rush. The bed is made. See you on Monday.”

You gave Azriel no chance to answer, practically dashing to the door, collecting your things while running. The cool afternoon air was a relief and helped your breath steadily. What the hell was going on? What did the memories mean?

Plagued by nightmares, you could barely sleep in the days that followed. It was too much and too strange. It irritated you and you dreaded going back to his place. You played with the thought of quitting, maybe it would be smart to stop working for him if it caused such chaos in your mind. But still you went there, hoping Azriel was still at work – which he normally was when you went there to clean on a Monday. And you truly were lucky, he was not here. So you started with the normal chores you had to do, cleaning, take the rubbish out and so on. 

“Are you mad with me?” 

You startled, the broom slipped out of your hand and landed on the ground with a loud noise. 

“Why should I?” you blurted out and felt your blood chill. Obviously you were. Around 20 minutes ago you had heard Azriel return to his place, and since then you had been hiding in his bathroom, pretending to be cleaning there and hoping he would maybe just leave again. 

“Because you obviously are, don’t pretend otherwise.” Azriel seemed angry and you knew the blame was on you. But how could you explain it all to him? How could you tell him that you had visions of a past life about him?

“I think I should go now,” you said with a huff. But Azriel had none of that, he wanted to talk it out with you, he wanted to know if he had upset you, or angered you. So he reached for you, his hand curling around your wrist, around the marred skin there. 

“Please, please love, stay with me. I won't survive without you.” Azriel said, and you lifted your hand, the scarred skin caressing his cheek one more time. The scarred skin.

God!

Azriel let go off your hand and stumbled backwards, his eyes wide open with shock. He was pale, looked like he had seen a ghost and technically he had – the ghost of your past.

“It can’t be true,” he stuttered and stared at you with his eyes wide open. “That can’t be true.”

“What?” you breathed, panic filling you when you saw the shock on his face. “What is it?”

The shocked expression looked so familiar – it was the same you wore after those flashbacks. Azriel stumbled backwards and fell onto the small armchair outside of his bathroom. You left the bathroom and walked up to him, nearly closing the distance between the two of you. “Azriel. What is going on?” you asked carefully, hoping not to cause more chaos in his mind. He still looked like he got caught in a stupor and slowly brought one hand up to wipe it over his face. His chest heaved with deep inhales and slowly you moved your hand forward, placing it on top of his. You gave his hand a soft and gentle squeeze, crouching down in front of him, your eyes meeting his. “Did you…” Your voice broke after you tried to stutter out a question. He must have had the same odd visions, there is no other explanation for it. Your throat felt dry, burned, when you forced your mouth to speak. 

“You think we have known each other in a past life?” The words sounded so odd and for a long moment they just hung in the air between you and Azriel, like neither of you could believe what you were discussing there. 

Azriel furrowed his brows, still staring right into your eyes. “Can this be possible?”

Pulling one shoulder up, you shrugged, unable to do more. Tears filled your eyes and curled your fingers tighter around his hand. 

“I love you and I will find you, in another life. We will have the happiness we deserve. Promise me you will wait for me.” 

“You promised to find me in another life.” Azriel leaned forward, his other hand moving to hold your face in big palm. “I promised so. And you promised you will wait for me.” You swallowed around the dryness in your throat, leaning into his touch. “I did.”

There were tears in both your eyes, threatening to spill over the edges any moment. “You think it is truly possible we found each other again?”

It was then that a small tear left your eye. “But you have someone, Azriel. Is she your girlfriend?” Azriel seemed like he did not understand, like nothing you said made sense because he clearly had no girlfriend. “Who?” he asked in a low voice. “Who are you talking about?” But then awareness dawned on him and Azriel spoke up before you could. “That was my assistant. And she…I–”

“You seemed so close. And she said you needed a woman.” And then the most adorable thing happened – Azriel blushed, and sheepishly bit down on his lower lip. “I asked her for advice on how to ask you out. How to not make it weird as you work for me…” He smiled a little, red colour blooming high on his cheeks. 

Your heart did flips, rapidly beating against your rib cage. “You did…” “I wanted to ask you out. I have been wanting to ask you out for a long time, but then things changed.”

“I am sorry,” you answered. You slowly got up, standing in front of Azriel. “I am sorry, but when I got the flashbacks, I freaked out. I did not know what they meant. They scared me. I thought I was going insane.”

Azriel closed his eyes for a long moment and inhaled deeply. “Is there a chance for us in this life then? Can I ask you out?” When he opened his eyes, a beautiful smile bloomed on his chest. More tears streamed down your cheeks and leaned in to just hug him. But Azriel had a different idea. He pulled you onto his lap, so you straddled him and your arms curled around his shoulders. “Can you believe that we really lived a long time ago and finally found each other again?” you cried into the crook of his neck, clawing at him.

“It seems surreal, doesn’t it?” Azriel held you tightly, kissing the side of your head. “Like that can only happen in books or movies.”

“I believe then this is my absolute favourite book or movie.” Leaning backwards a little, you watched his face, the expression on his face. “Can you believe how long our souls must have been yearning for each other? And now they are reunited?”

“And won’t ever be separated.” Tears also slid down Azriel’s cheeks, his whole body shaking, but he grinned at you. And you grinned back at him. “In this life I am going to keep you safe. I have awful brothers and an even worse stepmother, but not even they would go as far as taking you from me. In this life I am going to keep you. We will be one team, one couple, one soul until our very last day. Just you and I.”

“I like that a lot,” you said, smiling when you leaned in to kiss his lips. “And I am keeping you safe. And I am going to keep you. It will be us forever.” “Forever and even a little further.” And then you kissed, and it felt like…it felt like a million fireworks exploded in your chest, like your soul started to glow and become alive again. 

~~~~~~~~ tags Azriel (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @banasheefan56

[minhosbitterriver]

Hi green! Since you've left me some lovely requests, I thought I'd leave you one! I'm in love with the friends to love trope, so if you could do something like that with Felix, I'd eat it up. I'm thinking of something like the reader (gn please) has a really hard day and decides to go to Felix, but then it starts raining, so when Felix opens the door, reader is soaking wet and distressed. You can do anything from there! Again, I love your writing, so anything you come up with will be undoubtedly amazing. Hope you're doing well! <3

everything is you.

other works by green.

pairing: felix x gender neutral reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of parental abandonment years prior, mentions of recent death of a parent, smoking weed, daddy issues

rating: 13+

summary: through every single hardship you'd ever endured, felix always waited for you, ready to bring you into the safety of his embrace. so when you're stuck amidst the complicated emotions following your father's recent passing, the first and only person you sought for comfort was your best friend.

Echoes of the youth you’d spent in this house haunted the eerie hallways of this vacant home. Every inch of this familiar place has remained the same, though you certainly haven’t. Sitting on the front porch floor, a joint you’d just rolled burning between your fingers as you watch the rain pour outside, a vacant expression on your face as you decided on what to do. The initial plan was to walk towards your best friend’s house, which was a short walk away but the sky seemed to have other plans. And so you remained there, stuck sitting beside a box full of letters addressed to you, but that had never been sent – all written by your father. 

Too many times you had driven past him on your way to visit your best friend, making the point to keep your eyes on the road in case your father sat out front like he sometimes tended to do. The two of you had never been on good terms, especially since your mother left when you were a teenager to chase another man who’d made empty promises to her, and your father didn’t know the first thing about caring about another human being. It wasn’t a surprise to anybody when you left without a word the very minute you were old enough to do so and never returned. And yet, here you were, years since you’d gone – a box of letters he’d written to you though never sent, and you knew you didn’t have the nerve to open them alone. 

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips, pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans for what was possibly the millionth time only to be met by the same symbol of no signal available for you to message Felix, the aforementioned best friend – the boy you’ve known since you could barely form a sentence due to living so close to each other. He was the kind of guy who would smile a little bit wider whenever his eyes landed on you, the one to allow you to lash out when you were angry despite how sensitive he was because he wanted you to feel better, the one to remember your birthday and plan something intimate and special even if nobody else bothered, the one to pay attention to the little things you would mention in passing and always remember – he was very much in love with you, had been for a very long time and you were well aware. But he never mentioned it directly, and you decided that you wouldn’t bring it up either because you knew that the reality of this lifetime is that you were made to destroy and hurt while he was made to heal and rebuild and you couldn’t risk having him be the next victim.

In moments like these, while alone with your thoughts that slowed down from the flower you smoked that still seemed to suffocate you all the same, you wished things were different. If only you were a stable human being, good enough for him to safely lay his head on your shoulder the way a lover would do, someone who’s sane and loving and all things good – all of which you were not – then perhaps he would be sitting beside you already, encouraging you to open the first letter while being ready to kiss your forehead at the first sign of distress. It’s selfish, and you knew, but as the screen of your useless phone remained blank you couldn’t help but wish his name would pop up. 

Your mind swirled with thoughts that made it harder to breathe with each passing second. The box of letters beside you. No signal. Felix’s smile. Childhood home. Your mother leaving. Your father’s cold demeanor. Yourself.

Not willing to wait for the rain to end, but also not wanting to dwell in here any longer, you grunted as you put out your joint and walked inside. A plastic sheet that covered one of the cushioned chairs in the living room was the only thing you took before making a b-line back outside. You lazily throw the sheet over the box, struggling only slightly to lift it before leaving the shelter from the rain, instantly drenched as the it offered no mercy. Barely able to keep your eyes open, you followed the same path you’ve walked a thousand times throughout your life, the pull of your best friend’s comfort and warmth being the true source of your rush as your pace quickened.

The neighborhood was the same, with the same married couples still residing in them – though most of their children were gone, already having moved on in their adult lives as their parents awaited for the next holiday to see them again. Everywhere you looked, a memory tied you to Felix as though his entire, beautiful being had been burned into your consciousness forever. Perhaps he had been, not that you would complain about it one bit if that were the case.

Felix’s childhood home came into view at last, and you all but sprinted clumsily with the box in your hands as your mind, body and heart yearned for his strong arms around you. Your heart was pumping blood through your veins harshly by the time you’d made it to his front door, dropping the box at your feet before banging on his wooden door. The air was having a hard time reaching your lungs and you realized that you were crying now that the rain was not hammering onto your skin – flashbacks of a similar scene played in your head, your teenage self distressed after you’d read your mother’s goodbye letter and your grief engulfed you and sent you down a spiral while the scene of your father sitting on the dinner table reading his newspaper and sipping coffee as you screamed at him to see you and your broken heart left at the departure of your mother. Your fists shaking as you gave up, falling onto your knees in despair just as the door swung open. 

A wide-eyed Felix stood before you, shocked to see you in such a state and so late at night. It only took him half a second to react as he practically threw himself onto the ground and pulled you into the safety of his embrace despite how drenched you were. A sob you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back escaped your lips, and the gravity of the fact that you were officially alone dawned on you. Your heart ached in a way you couldn’t describe and all you could truly focus on was the fresh scent of his blueberry shampoo and vanilla soap on him as you briefly realized you must’ve caught him getting out of the shower. 

“Hey, hey,” Felix attempted to pull away slightly to speak to you but you tighten your hold on his torso, not quite ready to let go yet. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”

You said nothing, silently cursing yourself for being so weak – crying over a man who had never even smiled in your direction. 

“Felix, darling, what was all that noise?”

The sound of Felix’s mother’s sleepy voice caused you to jerk away from him, cheeks heating up in shame. You were on your feet in a second, bowing deeply to the kind woman who’d supported you through all of your hardships. 

“I– I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking when I came here, making all that noise. I just–”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Lee waved you off with a concerned smile. “I’ve been telling you for years that you’re welcomed here at any time of day. Come in, darling, you’ll catch a cold. Come!”

Felix moved out of the way so that you could enter his home, pushing you away when you tried to grab a hold of the box you’d carried through the rain so that he could take care of it himself. You knew that you must’ve looked deranged, but there was no hint of judgment in their eyes as they watched you take your shoes off at the entrance. Mrs. Lee guided you into the living room by the shoulders despite the fact that you knew your way through the house like the back of your hand. The tenderness of such a simple touch made your sight blurry with tears that you refused to release this time. 

“Darling, go take a warm shower and Felix will bring you a fresh towel and some spare clothes for you to change into, deal?” Mrs. Lee raised her brows as she waited for your response, you merely nodded. “Good, have you eaten?”

“N– No.”

“I’ll heat up some leftovers from tonight’s dinner, then.”

With that, she rushed over to the kitchen. You remained in the same spot though, letting the rain drip onto the floor as your body trembled from the chill the weather outside had instilled into you. Felix gently dropped the box on the couch, paying no mind to the wet plastic sheet that was still covering its contents. 

“Y/N,” Felix said, voice low and warm. “You told me you were coming tomorrow in the afternoon. Why are you here?”

“I lied,” you sighed defeatedly. “I just didn’t want you to worry too much and I thought that I could– I thought that I would be able to go in there myself. And I really was fine, really…until I found that stupid box.”

He glanced back at the box behind him, sighing. Felix didn’t say anything, choosing instead to lead you towards the second floor and into the bathroom he typically shared with his sisters, closing the door behind you. 

While standing under the scalding hot water in the shower by yourself, you couldn’t help but scold yourself at the lack of impulse control. You could have knocked like a normal person, instead you simply decided that you would bang on his door as though your life was in danger which in turn startled everyone in the house and probably the neighbors as well. The thing that had you so upset was not something that couldn’t wait until tomorrow, it wasn’t urgent at all. It was just a dumb box filled with letters that you’d never received while your father had been alive. So dramatic, you chided. 

Just when you were about to shut the water off, you heard the bathroom door open quietly while you assumed Felix gathered your wet clothing and replaced them with fresh ones along with a towel. Once the door closed again, you drew the curtains back to be proved right. You dressed quickly, not bothering to brush your hair as you made your way back down and into the kitchen only to find that Mrs. Lee was no longer there, instead you found Felix looking for chopsticks for you to use while you ate. 

“I told my mom to head to bed,” Felix informed you without looking up, placing the chopsticks on a napkin beside your warm plate. “What’s in the box?”

Your feet felt heavy with each step you took closer to your meal – to him. You leaned your lower back against the counter, gingerly taking the plate into your hands. “My father wrote me letters. A whole lot of them. But he never sent them.” 

Felix’s eyes remained on you, taking his place right beside you, leaving only a hair’s distance in between. In order to not get distracted by this silly fact, you shoved your first bite into your mouth even though you didn’t feel particularly hungry. He didn’t seem to notice, only waiting patiently like he always did. 

“The house hasn’t changed a single bit since I left,” you swallowed, voice thick. “I could tell exactly where he spent the majority of his time– the same spot at the head of the dinner table where he left stacks upon stacks of newspapers he never did bother to throw out, the reclining chair right in front of the TV where his weight had left its mark over the years, and his room that was a complete mess of clothes and books and papers and everything he ever used was thrown onto the ground.”

Another bite. Felix still said nothing. 

“My room was left intact,” you continued. “It almost felt like time had stopped when I left, and the clock only continued when I walked in again. It was clean– my father kept his own room in chaos but cleaned my room. Not a speck of dust anywhere, and I checked.” 

A third bite and then you set the practically full plate back onto the counter, you didn’t have the appetite to finish it. Felix wordlessly cleaned the area and left your plate in the fridge. 

“I think the only thing that changed there was that all the family photos were taken down.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as your breath becomes slightly shaky. “Not even put away, he just– took them and smashed them on the floor and left everything there. I can’t help but wonder just how long ago that was, and how many times he turned a blind eye to the broken glass as he stepped over them.

And then I went down to the basement, and everything was pretty much the same except for this stupid box. All of the letters with my name and address written on the envelope and I just– I lost it. I don’t know what to think anymore, of him…of anything.”

Felix’s arms suddenly wrapped around you tightly, surprising you for a second before you returned the gesture. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest despite this not being the first time he’d hugged you, but this one felt like it did when you were a teenager. It was strong, yet gentle; protective, yet freeing. Although it’d only been a few weeks since you’d seen him, you missed him deeply. You had left town, and he remained here with his family and his happy childhood memories – though you visited often and he did as well, but still; you missed him deeply. 

“I think that your father loved you in his own twisted way,” Felix murmured in your ear at last, arms tightening around you. “He was hurting, too. And you still didn’t deserve any of the things he did and didn’t do to you, because you were hurting and you were the child. But I think he loved you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes once more, hands shaking as you gripped Felix’s blue hoodie. 

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ☀️

The rain had stopped after a while, so you and Felix took advantage of that and sat on the roof right outside his bedroom window like you’d done a thousand times before. Overlooking the neighborhood in the dead of night as you lighted up the freshly rolled joint between your lips, inhaling the comforting flower before exhaling its smoke. The weight on your shoulders and mind was lifted as your anxiety dulled and your body relaxed. You passed the joint to Felix, who mimicked your actions. 

Your tears had long since dried, and the box had been left in the living room as you decided not to look at them tonight. Instead, you focused on the serene atmosphere that surrounded you and Felix like a warm hug. He passed the joint back to you, though you didn’t immediately bring it up to your lips again, letting it burn slightly between your thumb and index finger. Your eyes slowly found their way to Felix’s that had already been on you, analyzing you in the same way he had always done. You couldn’t tell if the glitter in his eyes were a reflection of the stars in the sky, or if they were truly his though they looked enchanting anyway. His smile widened when he noticed you meet his intense gaze and your heart burned at the sight, thinking back to your train of thought back on the front porch of your childhood home right before you’d come here. 

After all of these years, all of the tears, grief, arguments, and lashing out – he remained beside you, eyes on you as if you’d placed the sun in the sky yourself. You would never understand how he could stay by you when everyone else had left, there was nothing special about you other than your cutting tongue and vengeful heart. Though you couldn’t help but soften at the sight of him and his optimistic way of seeing the world. He was far too good, too pure for you or anyone else. And yet he sat there, subtly inching closer to you though you had still noticed. 

Lee Felix was in love with you, and had been for a long time. You were well aware, and had been for a long time. Though he never mentioned it directly and you decided that ignoring this would protect both you and him; but after all of this time, perhaps you’d maybe fallen in love with him too. It would be impossible not to let your own smile widen at the sight of his brown eyes watching you with so much genuine gentleness, to not feel your heart quicken every time he touched you, to not think of him when your bed was empty and cold, to not wish with every aching cell in your body that you were not as damaged as you were so that maybe, just maybe you would have a chance of deserving such a rare soul. 

Despite knowing all of this, you allowed him to move closer to you as the joint became smaller and smaller with each pass between the two of you. Eventually, your arms and legs were touching, and you could practically feel Felix’s erratic heartbeat. 

“What are you thinking about?” You surprised yourself by asking him, pointedly staring at the streetlamp directly in front of Felix’s house. His breath hitched slightly, though he didn’t say anything for a few moments. 

“I don’t know,” he eventually mumbled with a half-shrug. “Everything, I guess.”

“What is everything, Felix?”

His eyes met yours, wide with curiosity as he attempted to read you. Your own veins were pulsing with adrenaline from your boldness, though somehow you weren’t as mad about it as you thought you would be.

“I– I’m not sure.”

“I don’t believe you. What is everything?”

This was everything against what you’d done since you noticed his feelings for you, this was not keeping a safe distance. But you couldn’t help it, it was as though your heart had finally gained control over your brain and was pushing you to confront your own feelings for the first time in years. Because the truth is, your heart did burn for him in a way you couldn’t explain; it fluttered and skipped a beat a thousand times whenever he was around and it had been for as long as you could think back. You didn’t deserve him, but he thought the world of you – so maybe that was worth something. 

“Everything is–” Felix’s eyes searched yours, his breathing picking up slightly. “Everything is you.”

If your heart either exploded or simply stopped beating, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least. His words sent a chill down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the smile that snuck onto your face. 

“Good.” You stated, putting out what little was left of your shared joint on the roof before moving to straddle him, and you might as well have pushed him off and onto the ground before with the way the wind seemed to have been knocked out of him. His eyes were so wide, so surprised yet so excited. “To me, everything is you, too.”

His eyes scanned yours for a moment before he released an incredulous, airy chuckle. He didn’t get the chance to say anything, however, as your lips met his for the first time and the world melted away.

word count: 3.3k ☀️ posted: 12 • 05 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for the request! I truly, truly enjoyed writing this for you. I just sat here and the words just kept flowing and flowing and I just couldn't stop, so I hope you enjoy it! (Side note though: I'm sorry if this a bit darker for your taste, I read it back and was like 'yikes, didn't mean to start off like that'.)

Anyway! I appreciate your compliments, always. Your feedback is something I genuinely look forward to every time I post, and so I'm happy that we're mutuals out here supporting each other because honestly – you're a magnificent writer as well, so I can promise that every time I think of something new for you, I'll grab my phone and tell you all about it no matter where I am!

Again, I hope you enjoyed this and thank you!

🪲 TAGLIST !

# @grandpafelixx

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can I have prompt 3 and 10 for Charles xavier please

.⋆｡Lost And Found｡⋆.

Charles Xavier x plus size reader

When the world learned of the existence of mutants after the incident in Cuba, you thought you had lost your family forever but you’ve been wrong before

Warnings: angst, anti-mutant sentiment, long lost lovers, little bit of fluff

WC: 650

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

3000 Follower Celebration

Being alone was both your greatest fear and your greatest strength. Alone you were safe, you could protect yourself from humanity and their hatred for your kind. But you yearned to be touched, kissed, hell even if you heard someone else’s voice, that would be enough. 

But it was too risky to travel back into civilization when your mutation was so apparent- the live snakes in your hair were not so easy to hide. So you took to wandering the earth alone with only your thoughts to keep you company.

You thought about your family a lot. Sean and Alex were your little brothers, Raven you best friend and confidant, Erik was your vastly over protective older brother, Hank your insomnia buddy. And Charles, how could you ever forget Charles.

He was your everything. Your lover, your teacher, your dearest friend, your soulmate. And you had lost him, on that beach in Cuba so long ago. The moment Erik stopped those missiles, you knew, you knew that you were one of millions of mutants who had to go into hiding.

You couldn’t risk Charles’s safety by being with him, so you ran and you ran and you ran. You ran for years until you could barely remember why you were even running at all. Occasionally, you would meet another mutant and they would tell you of what was happening in the world. It seemed to get bleaker each day. There was no hope left for mutants like you, all that was left was counting down the days until some human would inevitably find you and put you away.

The woods here were dense, shadows loomed over you like a protective barrier and for once, you felt a sliver of safety. Something in your chest eased here almost like returning home. Drops of rain slipped through the canopy, landing on your covered head.

Thunder rolled overhead, distracting you from your thoughts for a moment. And that’s all it took. The prodding in your mind was familiar just as much as it was jarring. Panic ripped through you as you furiously attempted to slam the door on your mind but it was far too late, he knew.

The rain froze and the world went silent and suddenly he was there. He looked older, more tired but he was still your Charles.

“Charles-“ Your voice was weak with disuse. He flinched at the sound.

“I never thought I would see you again.” You fought it, you really did, but like he always did, he pulled you in. Your feet carried you to the telepath, your heart pounding louder and louder in your ears with each step.

He was frozen in place, like the rain, but tears flowed freely down his cheeks, his stunning blue eyes rimmed with a devastating red. “I thought you died!” His sadness shifted to rage quickly.

“I had to leave, I had to protect you.” He was close enough to touch now, but you didn’t dare to each out.

“We would have been safe together. We were protected together.” You shook your head, it would do no good to keep arguing with him. “You broke my heart.”

You smiled at him but it did not reach your eyes. “I loved- love you too much to let you suffer when you could so easily live.” His concentration wavered, the rain resuming once more.

“I cannot live without you.” And then all the walls, all the pain, came crumbling down in his lips as he took you by the wide curve of your hips and kissed you like he never would again. Water soaked into your clothes but the chill didn’t stop you.

Charles pulled away to take your face in his palms, pushing back your hood as he did so. “Beautiful.” He murmured. “It’s time to come home now.” And you could only nod, glad to not be alone anymore.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @km-ffluv

Marvel

@lokiandbuckysdoll @andreasworlsboring101 @pretty-npeach @luvvvjada @cakesandtom @elizabethmidnight2017 @beautyb1ade @bitchy-bi-trash @mewlingoizys @queer_poncho @everything-is-awesomesauce

[asherloki]

Drizzling evening

Bbc sherlock

Fluff

Word count:- 812

Dialogue prompt list

The clouds made it entirely clear how wrong I was when I decided I wont be needing an umbrella. I stared at the sky above and pouted, the evening dark sky was almost invisible under the red angry clouds, their anger also had a bit of mockery, mocking every human down there who'll run under the shelter if the rain starts, and as if they are about to laugh at me for ignoring the weather report.

"it's okay we'll get a cab" came from the man behind me. The enchanting voice of him, could melt any stoned heart. but not mine, atleast not now. So I preferred not to reply and walk to the bus stop. Sherlock eventually walked along. None of us uttered a word while we headed towards the nearest stoppage. Especially me, not even sparing him a glance, yet I knew him enough to know his brows were furrowed, but there was care in his expression I was well aware of it.

Me not sparing him a look was fine, after an argument it's perhaps normal, but the clouds not sparing me for my mistake of ignoring my lovely sea green umbrella at home was not acceptable. The droplets started to hit the ground. And both of us fastened our pace. still the bus stop was far enough from us to get there in time before the drizzle gets heavier. Mr detective carefully placed himself at the outside of the pavement so I stay towards the inside and the drizzle spare me a little more than it was sparing him. I watched all that however decided to remain ignorant of the fact that Sherlock would get drench himself than let me walk alone.

Reaching the bus stop was a hustle and more disappointment came along as there was barely any space under the shade. The rain caused everyone take shelter under the shade of the bus stop. And eventually we were getting soaked in rain.

"there's some space for you under the shade, go there I'll call you when I'll see the bus coming." he said his brows still furrowed as he took me by arm and let me stay under the shade. I didn't fight him this time. As I stood there I watch him, standing outside the shade, almost completely soaked, still not losing against the heavy drizzle which just got heavier.

I stood there watching him, my anger was still there, the disappointment of our argument too, but he's Sherlock Holmes. He can forgive anyone he loves, so to be clear he has forgiven my hundreds of mistakes. And that's when I forgave him, like our families say, " oh they can have really big fights, but they can't live a second without loving eachother."

My train of thoughts went on making me smile a little perhaps until he gestured me to come near him. The bus came and my man was soaked in rain, drops of water trickling down, tracing his sharp features from his wet curls. The fluffy curls were now sticking to his forehead for being drenched.

The bus ride also followed silence between us, but this time I spared him glances time to time. Watched him texting lestrade, discussing about the baffling case for which he needed Mr brilliant. After we reached, I put my bag on the floor and glanced at him, he smiled knowing my anger melted like ice cubes in summer, so I smiled back as well.

"you good now?" he asked softly, his voice filling our living room with a familiar warmth, the one I adore.

"yes, thanks" formalities was never a thing for us, so my statement made him raise a brow.

"just so you know" he said "you'll never have to be alone in such situations especially as long as I'm here". Yes it's true, years of taking care of my own problems, hiding issues from my family convinced me I'll be doing this alone my whole life, until one day Sherlock came like a gift. He helped me with everything since the beginning, without asking anything in return. How can I refuse to love such a person when my past lovers haven't been this kind to me?

"I want you always, to be a part of my everything, my joy, my sadness, my anger, my tears, my laughter, my success and also my failure" I replied untying my hair and tossing the rubber band somewhere in the room. Reason why rubber bands aren't enough ever. He did seem to understand the depth of my feelings for him was as much as his was for me.

"now before you catch cold go to the shower, and put these drenched clothes off" I demanded like I always do, and he obeyed like always. Then I knew his sudden smirk is about to be followed by a mischievous comment or rather offer,

"care to join me under the warm shower?"

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Hunted by a sunless city that never sleeps (part 5)

Dracule Mihawk x reader. NSFW!!!

Werewolf!AU for the short series that began with Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart). Can be read as a standalone.

This is part five of five. This fic is dedicated to @alphaash99.

Title taken by another song by Beast in Black -Moonlight Rendezvous- since it's not part of the main continuity. Kuraigana Island is Mihawk's home in the manga/anime.

Shanks being in a relationship with his crew's doctor is an allusion to this headcanon list and then to this fic, even though they take place in a different continuity.

*****

Until a few years ago, Mihawk would have thought there is nothing left in the world capable of surprising him; then you came into his life, and he realized he had been wrong.

Today, he stands corrected for the second time, because while he had been aware of the existence of werewolves for years, and the surprise of discovering you were one had also worn off, seeing it happen in front of his own eyes is a different matter - one that, just like everything that concerns you, enchants him.

His breath caught in his throat as he observed you shift, your naked body, almost as familiar as his own, turning in that of a huge she-wolf, with thick fur, a long tail and a full set of fangs capable to easily maul an elk - or a man. Had someone described the scene to him, your lover would have deemed it a nightmarish scene; instead, there is something elegant in the whole process, a painless naturality that reminds him less of a forced transformation and more of the relief of someone slipping off an heavy armor... a return to the roots, to the visceral and intimate nature of oneself. It was beautiful to see, as if he were witnessing fresh and pure water wash the filth away from your body; it was something he wished, for a fleeting moment, that he could experience himself.

And then you started growling.

You have assured him that while wolves are predators, and used to fight among them for leadership within a pack, your quadrupedal selves are usually quite gentle, both among them and with the humans who live on the island. On the other hand, there is a reason why you have seen fit to equip him with both Yoru and your derringer, a reason Mihawk realizes was much less unlikely than he had hoped when he sees the she-wolf growl, crouching down: he has no experience with wolves, but he easily realizes the beast is preparing to pounce... and he is the designated prey.

You are clearly not recognizing him, or even just understanding he is a friend and not someone who poses a danger to you. "(name)." he softly calls out, keeping his voice down so as not to scare you and hoping you can still understand his words, or at least recognize his timbre "(name), it is me; Mihawk. You know me. You love me. Please..."

A growl escapes through your bared fangs as you start to advance towards him; if you were to bite him, Mihawk estimates, you could easily tear his arm off - which, as human-you had correctly guessed, would be a fate worse than death. Still, he doesn't fear you; he never could, and he sees your eyes following his movements as he slowly kneels, leaving first Yoru and then your derringer on the floor.

"I don't want to hurt you; and I won't." he promises. He doesn't know whether your wolf mind can make sense of his actions and consequently recognize him as an ally, but he has faith in you, in your strength and intelligence and will power, and while no one could ever accuse him of being a romantic, he knows what the two of you share, and have built together, is true and deep and powerful enough to remain with you even in your current state "Please. (name), you know me. I love you. Here..."

He is not afraid, especially not of you, even though he recognizes the danger he is in, as he slowly extends his hand towards you until his fingers are close enough to your snout you can smell them - or bite them. "Smell me. Maybe you don't remember who I am, but you know I am your friend."

The wolf's threatening growl descends in a questioning yelp. You had been mistaken, there is a way out from that dusty, smelly place, and it is behind the two-legged creature in front of you, standing as if to forbid you from reaching it. You would have expected him to run away (the wolf inside you knows how dangerous she is, much larger than the normal specimen of her kind and strong enough to fell even the largest bison or bear by herself) or to attack, but he doesn't; he just stands there, as if waiting, looking at you with an intent you are unable to recognize.

Who is he? What does he want from you? Does he not know you could kill him, especially after he leaves on the grounds the things he is holding in his front paws, objects your wolf mind doesn't have a name for but that you know he could use to hurt and kill you. It would be as if you took out your fangs and claws before approaching him; why is he abandoning his defenses? And why is he now offering you his paw...?

His scent hits your nostrils a moment later; it is vaguely unpleasant, like that of all of his kind, but after a minute, when without realizing you have walked up to him until your nose is almost pressed against his fingers (he has no claws, poor thing; how does he hold a prey in his paws without them? And what if he has to scratch a pack-mate who is bothering him?), you suddenly realize it is familiar - he smells familiar, as if you had already met, as if you knew each other...

... as if you could trust him. The feeling explodes in your heart, sudden and unexpected enough to disorient you, and your wolf mind cannot make sense of it, cannot remember the years you have spent together, the intimacy and trust and respect between you, but you feel it, as sure as you are of the ground under your paws or of the colour of your fur: he is not a member of your pack, or even just of your kin, but you know him and he knows you, and you trust him, he won't hurt you and you don't want to hurt him, quite the opposite in fact...

His eyes are unlike those of any two-legged creature you have ever met, yellow and deep like those of the birds you sometimes see perched on the branches of the highest trees, powerful and quick predators despite their diminutive size. They are beautiful, and before you know it they have enchanted you long enough to allow the creature (the man, this is the word you should use; he is a human, and a male, so man is what you should call him) to rest his front paw on your face, caressing your fur in a gesture you had never experienced before, but whose gentleness is enough to make you quiver.

"(name), I would never hurt you." Mihawk murmurs; the fur under his hand is much softer than he expected, and your eyes are still the ones he has fallen in love with "Do you know who I am?"

You cannot understand his call, but you easily perceive the emotion behind it, and you do know him, well enough you cannot believe you didn't recognize him sooner, and the fact that you belong to different species has no importance, because you know what he is, who he is...

Mate, you whine; you knows he can't understand you, that he can't perceive the intimacy of that call, the one you would utter during a courtship, when you and your companion would groom and nibble each other's coats and sleep pressed together, or after you have found a spot far away from the rest of the pack to share the warmth of your bodies and forget about the rest of the world. He is your mate and you are his, you are safe with him and, most importantly, he is safe with you.

Mihawk smiles as he observes the large she-wolf crouch down next to him, her head pressing against his thigh in an evident gesture of affection. She cannot talk, and she doesn't need to; her eyes speak well enough. His lover is a werewolf, he reflects; he'll have to ask Shanks' doctor for pointers.

"I knew you could do it." he murmurs, before cautiously lowering himself on the floor; he doubts his bed could hold the wolf's weight, and he could never make you sleep on the floor next to him like a lapdog "You are beautiful; you did very well."

You whine contently and lick his hands, before resting your head on his lap; your mate grins, and hides his face in your fur.

*****

The sun has risen only ten minutes ago when your transponder snail, placed on the little table next to the bed on which Mihawk has just gently laid you down, rings. Your partner hesitates only for a moment before picking up; he wants you to rest, after the stress and the anxiety of last night, and he knows you would want him to reassure the person at the other hand of the line.

"Hello."

"Where is (name)?" a feminine voice asks after a moment of uncertainty; she sounds mature, refined, and clearly anxious "Who am I talking to?"

"This is Dracule Mihawk. She is resting now, lady Veressa." he explains; your lover has never spoken to your mother, let alone met her in person, but he expected her to call to make sure you were all right, as soon as she was able to talk... and had hands with which to hold a receiver "She has just shifted back to human."

"Is she... all right?"

"(name) is safe; she did very well last night. She was concerned she would not recognize me and attack, since she was alone and in a place she had never shifted in before, but she knew me almost immediately, and was able to keep her instincts at bay."

A moment of silence follows, as if the woman, who you have always described as rational and strong-willed, capable to keep her cool even in the most dangerous situations, were so overwhelmed with relief to be unable to speak.

"Are you sure?" she insists in the end, and normally Mihawk would not suffer lightly someone accusing him of lying, but given the circumstances, he decides he can make an exception.

"She is absolutely unhurt; she told me she was going to call you herself, but she fell asleep. Would you like me to wake her?"

Your mother, finally reassured, says there is no need, since you will surely call as soon as you wake. "She is always groggy when she wakes up after shifting." she adds, a smile in her voice; then, in a murmur: "Thank you, Mihawk. She was so scared she was going to hurt you, and being alone during the plenilune is... well, hard for our people. Thank you for keeping her safe; I'm glad you were there with her."

Your lover tells her she has nothing to thank him for; they exchange goodbyes before closing the call, and a minute later your lover has joined you on the bed where you are sleeping peacefully, wrapped in your robe, your chest gently rising and falling with your breath. You spent a lovely, albeit somewhat unusual, night together, enjoying the quiet of the cool night around the island, as you happily explored the woods and chased after squirrels and other small animals. When in the end a raccoon had the misfortune of crossing your path, you bolted after him, easily capturing and killing him with your fangs; Mihawk, not at all repulsed, smiled when you triumphantly brought back your prey to him, like a dog expecting to be complimented for a trick. He observed you eat, you let him clean the blood off your face fur, and then rested with your head on his lap as he sat on a large stone, observing the full moon and carding his fingers through your fur.

It was a good night, a peaceful night, that had taught him, if ever he needed it, that the two of you didn't need words to be in harmony with each other. He has no idea how many more days you can stay, since sooner or later you will have to return home to your duties; deciding he may as well enjoy the time you have left together, he leaves his clothes on a chair and slips under the blanket next to you. The full moon has by now fully disappeared behind the horizon, until the next plenilune, but he has closed the shutters of all the windows, a tranquil darkness now bathing the room.

"Your mother called. I told her you were all right."

"Thank you; I'll call her back..."

You smile, lifting a leg around his waist to keep Mihawk closer to you. "You know, many humans whose partner is a werewolf end up being changed themselves." you murmur "It is not compulsory, and since we are mortal and have the same life expectancy as everyone else, as opposed to what happens with vampires, there is no real need, but many couples decide to do it all the same to share the experience."

"I understand."

The question -the offer- remains unspoken in the air above you, but too evident for any of you to deny it; you can see the pensive look on Mihawk's face as his hand lightly caresses your arm.

"I'd be curious to experience it at least once." he confesses in the end "Unfortunately this is not how it works, right?"

"It isn't; if I bite you, and you become a werewolf, you'll turn every single plenilune from then on, and there is no way to go back."

"I see..."

A minute passes, a minute during which you force yourself to remain silent, instead of trying to influence him - of begging him to let you give him a gift that would make your bond even deeper and everlasting than it already is. Oh, please... please, let me turn you... let me show you what it really means to be alive...

"I'll think about it." your lover promises in the end, and you nod; it is the answer you expected, albeit not the one you had hoped for, and you make sure to tell him the offer remains open, as long as you both live. For now at least, that is enough.

"Thanks for what you did." you murmur against his throat, your teeth barely brushing against the tender skin "I was scared, and confused... but having you there made everything easier. I'm sorry if I never told you the truth."

"I would have kept your secret whatever the price. And I will now."

"I know; sorry, it's just..."

"It's all right." Mihawk cuts you off. He doesn't like, nor does he see a reason for, long explanations and declarations of regret; he understands the reason behind your choice, he doesn't blame you for it, and for him that's enough "I'm just glad you don't need to keep it secret anymore."

You silently agree; again, silence envelops you, until...

"Mihawk?

"Yes."

You bite your lip; fortunately your human teeth cannot injure you. "I was thinking, one day..."

"I said yes." he reminds you as he moves searching for a comfortable position on the bed; he is not smiling, but you can feel the amusement in his voice "I'd be happy to come to your island, and to meet your mother."

"... really?"

"Of course, why not?"

You grin, your heart bursting with happiness. Mihawk sighs contently; he kisses your brows and closes his eyes, holding you as he lets himself fall asleep, confident that when he wakes, he'll find you still there next to him.

"Wait... did you say vampires?"

[rexxdjarin]

No Shame

Commander Wolffe x F!Reader One Shot

Summary: Based on the above song - You and Wolffe have been FWB for quite some time and although you want it to be something more, there's no way he would ever want that with someone like you. Right? Word Count: 7k Chapter Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ RATING, angst, FWB to lovers?, dom!Wolffe (is there any other kind lol?), p in v sex, fingering, light bdsm themes and spanking (if ya squint), self-esteem issues, self-doubt, hurt/comfort, very mild arguing Notes: this is loosely based on themes of this song (or rather what I imagine a happy ending to be like bc I refuse to write shit that ends sad haha)

[crossposted on ao3]

Commander Wolffe was always far better than any other partner you’ve ever had. He was so good. Too good for you. His interest in sleeping with you often scared you. Because you knew you loved him and sleeping with him was only making that affection deepen. But you were filled with self-doubt. Denying your own worth against quite literally the perfect man. You weren’t a carefully engineered genetically ideal human. You were just you. Average men didn’t even like you. His interest in you didn’t make sense. Someone as perfect as him could never love you. No matter how much you wished he could.

You filled your life with men you thought you deserved. Men who could never measure up to him. Men who couldn’t even call themselves men by comparison to him. You were inferior. You knew it. He’d be ashamed of you. Ashamed to be seen with you. The fact that he even wanted to sleep with you at all was just because you were easy and accessible. That’s what you told yourself. You wouldn’t bother wasting his time by asking him to do all the relationship stuff you wanted. He’d probably laugh at you.

You tried to cut it off before you hurt yourself. Before you loved him so much it would kill you to ever see him walk away in disgust. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Every time you swore it would be the last, you found yourself comming him, begging him to find you and fuck you like only he could. You felt pathetic needing someone, who didn’t think of you for even a second, so badly that it hurt. So you decided you’d look elsewhere for the relationship you wanted, even if they were far less than everything Wolffe was.

Tonight you walked through the doors of 79s with your date and saw him sitting at his booth with all his men, clutching his drink in one hand and staring up at the waitress with a warm smile, an actual fucking smile, on his face. Finally, something in you just snapped. He didn’t want you. He really didn’t. He could look at anyone, no, everyone else the way you wished he’d look at you.

Your date stood beside you, not even noticing you as you seethed in anger beside him. He was too busy eyeing several of the twi’lek waitresses to notice. If you actually cared about him, you’d be as angry at him as you were at Wolffe, who wasn’t even yours. He would never want to be yours. As if pulled your direction by gravity itself, Wolffe turned and looked directly at you.

The familiar darkness you knew all too well wiped whatever warm friendliness you’d just seen right off his face. His brow furrowed in anger and his eyes narrowed, looking you up and down with the disgust you knew he’d felt for you. You’d never brought dates here before, but in order to move past him you’d have to show him you didn’t need him anymore. Even though everything inside you was screaming that you did.

You stood by the bar watching Wolffe stand up like he was going to walk toward you, only for him to turn and enter one of the freshers in the back. You excused yourself from your date to use the fresher and followed into the one Wolffe had just entered. You pushed open the door to find him leaned up against the wall scowling at you.

“You know I don’t appreciate you coming to my bar parading around some other pathetic excuse for a lifeform you’re dating. It’s insulting.” He spat, his voice low and his brooding expression dangerous. He took up all the space in the entryway, his broad shoulders caging you in against the door you’d just locked behind you.

“Your bar? Since when do you own 79s? It’s Republic property.” You argued, trying your best to stand up to him without breaking down already. Looking at his perfect face was hard enough from across the bar, but it was even more painful just an arm’s length away.

“I am Republic property.” He scoffed sarcastically, stepping close enough to you to press his puffed up chest into yours. He slammed his hand on the door just beside your head and smirked at you. “You’re not going back out there to that lowlife. I won’t let you.” He muttered, the slightest hint of desperation littering his tone. But that was probably in your head.

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Wolffe. Haven’t you already taken enough from me?” You practically whimpered, turning your face from him as you felt tears well up. His face was only inches from yours and you could feel what felt like his glaringly angry stare burning a hole right through you. 

“What? You’re the one that calls me. You’re the one begging me to come over. You’re the one pushing me away.” His voice was escalating and he stepped back, lowering and unclenching his fists, giving you space as you flinched at his every word. He was right. That’s exactly what you were doing. Keeping him away from you so that when he finally realized he could do better, that he deserved better, it wouldn’t devastate you so much. 

And yet, as you crumbled against the fresher wall, you realized it didn’t matter. Knowing him at all had already devastated you anyways. He was too good for you. You didn’t deserve him. He should be fucking ashamed that he’d stooped low enough to be with you.

“Not enough.” You whispered, finally finding the courage within you to admit to him how you felt about this arrangement and yourself. You were never going to be enough for him. He might as well leave you here now. Save himself the humiliation. 

“You’ve made that pretty fucking clear. It’s never enough. Nothing I do, nothing I am…is ever good enough for you.” His shoulders sagged and he looked at you pitifully, an expression the big, rough Commander had never shown you in all the time you’d known him. 

He’s…got it all wrong. It’s backwards. How does he not realize that it’s you that isn’t good enough for him? That you could never let someone like him waste their time on you. He shouldn’t waste his time loving you. Even if all you ever wanted was to love him. 

“Wolffe…no. It’s not you-” He stepped closer and leaned his face down to your ear. He lifted his gloved knuckle along your cheekbone softly, brushing your hair aside and kissing slowly up your neck. You let out a shaky sigh, swallowing your thoughts down as he awakened the same desperate yearning that he always did. Whenever you were in his presence. Whether he was directly in front of you or 30 clicks away. Whenever he was near you, you needed him like this. 

“Who’s gonna touch you like me? Hmmm? Him?” He asked, running his hand down your arm and tracing his tongue along your jaw. He pulled back, smirking as you trembled with need you couldn’t deny yourself. He pushed you up against the wall gently, slotting his knee between your open thighs. He brushed against your heat and sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. You let out a soft moan and he chuckled quietly. “No. He doesn’t know you like I do. Make you feel good like I do…Care…about you like I do.” 

“Wolffe.” You sighed out resting your hands on his chest before he crashed his lips against yours. He slid his tongue in your mouth, overwhelming you and stealing every breath you needed to form words you wanted to say. He melted you. He always did. You drowned your sorrow in the flood of arousal that he sent rushing between your legs whenever he touched you. 

He maneuvered his thigh against your clit, making you break the kiss to moan desperately. “That’s it, mesh’la. There’s that sound I love.” Warmth radiated from your core outwards, the feeling consuming you and making a thin sheen of sweat coat any of your exposed skin. You forgot your pain. You forgot your self-consciousness. Your inferiority. It was just him. Him and the pleasure he always brought you. Even if it was just a momentary comfort from him, you’d take it. You’d take whatever he gave you until the end of time.

“Wolffe…mmmf please. Feels s-so good.” You whimpered, resigning to the pleasure and burying the inevitable. Pretending he won’t take what he needs and walk out that door like he should. “More.” You gripped the armor on his chest for dear life and looked up at his handsome, stern face with the pathetic, lovesick adoration for him that he’d never return, but you couldn’t help showing. You rocked your hips against his codpiece and let your hands fumble with his to tear it off him to get the salacious contact you needed.

He shoved his gloved hands underneath your shirt, tearing the fabric off your head and onto the floor. “You look…fucking incredible. Much too good for anyone else to have. No one else deserves to touch your skin,” His hands gripped your breasts hard, kneading them and teasing your nipples to hardness. 

His hand slid down your torso and tore down the skirt from around your hips, leaving you bare and exposed in front of him. He slid two of his thick, gloved fingers through the slick between your legs and grunted in amusement. You whined at the contact, jerking your head back against the door as he teased your clit with the heel of his palm. The dizzying pleasure buzzed through all your nerves, making your eyes slam shut. 

Just as quickly as he started working your heat under his touch, he pulled away, lifting his coated digits to his lips. “No one else deserves to taste you,” He grabbed your face in his other hand, making you watch as he slid his fingers past his lips and dragged the taste of you across his tongue. He let out a strangled exhale, releasing the digits with a pop to settle them between your folds again. He slid his hand down to your neck and curled his fist around the smooth, unmarked skin. Slowly, the pressure of his fingertips increased, making you feel the race of your pulse as he sent your heartbeat skyrocketing.

The hunger in his brown eye was dangerous and alluring, making you crave the thorough fucking he was planning on giving you even more. He rested his forehead on yours, staring deep into your eyes as he plunged the same two fingers inside you. The delightfully sinful stretch at your entrance made your eyes roll back in your head as the pounding of your walls around him matched the thumping rhythm of your pulse. “No one else deserves to feel that pretty pussy strangle them but me. Saved this dripping little cunt for me, didn’t you, darlin’?” He growled, his hand on your neck massaging gently and loosening just enough to let you speak.

“Yes, Wolffe.” You moaned, gripping his forearm and hoping he could feel just how desperate you were to tell him how much you only ever wanted to belong to him. That every part of you was his. All he had to do was say so. The gnawing in the back of your mind always told you that day would never come. That physically using you like this was all you’d ever be any good for to him. 

“Say it louder. Don’t think he heard you out there.” Wolffe teased, motioning to where your date was somewhere beyond the door you were pressed up against. Wolffe’s fingers curled up against your front wall and pressed hard, making you buck your hips forward in response. He kept at it, nudging up against the same spot as he twirled his thumb against your sensitive clit. “Louder, mesh’la.” He growled, encouraging you as he edged you closer to your climax.

“Wolffe.” You cried out, your mind going numb as flows of pleasure flooded your center. The fresher echoed with the obscene shlicking sound of him fingerfucking you deep and hard, your body unable to resist a carnal reaction to him. You spread your legs wider, your back arching off the door to give him deeper access and he took it. He pressed his fingers inside to the knuckle and laughed devilishly.

“That’s it. There’s my filthy girl. You’re so fucking pretty…look at you- you drive me fucking crazy. Walking in looking like this…I can’t help myself, darling. I have to fucking have you.” Your insides were overheating, the heat in your gut swelling higher and hotter until you were seconds from snapping. 

You watched him through your hooded lids, his eyes roaming your body like he was trying to commit to memory what you looked like. His jaw flexed almost in anger, like he was trying his hardest to prove his worth to you and you still wouldn’t budge. He was fucking handsome always, but especially so when he was grumpy and pissed about something. His scowl always made him look so serious even though you knew he was a sarcastic and witty fucker when it really came down to it. 

You weren’t scared of him or intimidated like everyone else. You felt safe and protected around him, like nothing in the world could ever touch you as long as his arms were around you. But it was all spoiled by the fact that he never stayed for long. Always left you by morning. Never went anywhere he could be seen with you. And you know it’s because deep down he doesn’t care about you. Doesn’t care about feelings. Doesn’t care that you love him. So you run from him whenever you can find the strength to. But you’re never strong enough to stay away from him for long. And now, as he’s coaxing another orgasm out of you, you think he probably hates you for that too.

“Gods- why won’t you let me keep you? I don’t want anyone else to ever touch you. To know you like I do. Look at me, cyar’ika.” He shook you out of your own intrusive thoughts, his lips just inches from brushing your own. His eyes were wild and desperate for your attention, not just because he was drawing out the strongest orgasm of your life with just his hands, but because he wanted your sole focus, your entire body, to bend your will until you broke for him. He was looking at you like he was asking you for more and for the first time you realize you might be wrong. About everything. 

You look up into his eyes as yours fill with tears. Just a few more passes of his thumb tracing circles on your clit and you’re cumming hard. Your eyes lock with his as the orgasm collides into you. Your walls entrap his fingers inside you and your thighs shake around his forearm. Your mind blanks as the euphoria surges through your nerves, down each and every extremity and your vision is just him. His eyes, one brown and one cybernetic gray, watching what he did to you and smirking. Clearly immensely pleased with himself. 

“Wolffe…” You choke out behind high pitched moans and soft whimpers. “It’s not enough. I…need more…” More time with him. More attention. More dedication. More of his hands on you. During sex. Before. After. You just needed more. 

You needed him for more than what this was. 

You needed him to tell you he loved you like you loved him. But how could someone like him want you for more than just sex? He had every better option in the galaxy. He’d never choose you, so you could never ask. You could never risk losing what little part of him you did have. You couldn’t say all of that right now. So you begged him for more with no explanation of what more was.

He let out a frustrated growl and rested his cheek against the side of your hair. “You want me to fix that for you. But it’s never enough. You need more…deserve more than just something physical. Why do you always comm me if you’re scared to be loved?” He asked, his voice softer and more delicate than you’d ever heard him be with anyone. You panted as you toppled down from the height of your orgasm and you rested your hands on his chest. He misunderstood everything. You weren’t scared to be loved, you were just positive that the one you loved could never love you. 

“I’m not, I just…You shouldn’t have wasted so much time on me. Aren’t you ashamed to be seen with someone like me?” You asked, watching his brows raise in surprise and both his eyes blinking away dumbfounded confusion. He closed them and stepped back shaking his head. 

“What are you talking about?” He rolled his eyes and ran his hands down his face in exhaustion. “Why would I ever think something like that?”

“You only like what I can do to you, Wolffe. And you’re ashamed that you’ve stooped so low to be with someone like me.” You shouted at him with every bit of viciousness you could muster, to finally push him away from you if he couldn’t bring himself to care for you like you deserved. “I’m not good enough for you. That’s why you never take me out. Why you never let yourself be seen with me. I’m just here until you find someone better. And I can’t keep letting someone who doesn’t care touch me like that. So I’ve been trying to find someone who does.”

Wolffe whipped around like you’d just shot a blaster bolt through his back. His lips curled back in a snarl and he pointed the same fingers that were just inside you to the door behind your naked body. “You think that asshole cares about you? Who’s the one who noticed you the second you walked in here? Not him. He was too busy eyefucking the waitresses right in front of you. Who’s the one who knows exactly what you’re feeling just by the look on your face? Not him. He couldn’t tell how much it kills you to be ignored everywhere you go with him. Who’s the one who knows every square fucking inch of your body and exactly how you need to be touched? Not fucking him. Because he’s out there forgetting you exist. And I’m in here. With you. Because I’ll always be there for you. I’ve got no shame in admitting that. Who else out there is going to love you like me!?”

His chest was heaving, his heart thumping so hard you could feel it under the hands you pressed against him. He towered over you, tall and sturdy and so angry you could see the steam pouring out of him with every exhale. He was staring you in the face, expecting you to say something. To bite back at him like you usually did. Instead you shrunk away from him, retreating back into the silence of pleasure rising inside you again at the palpable tension between the both of you. It didn’t feel real. You couldn’t believe him. He was just saying things. 

He shook his head and drew in a deep breath to calm himself, grounding his boots to the floor. “I’m not ashamed of you. That’s insane. I could never be. It’s that it’s not safe for people to see me with you. I’m- ugh- I’m trying to protect you. Because I don’t want anything to happen to you. Because I can’t let anything happen to you. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt for a second how I feel about you. But you can’t deny there’s something here, mesh’la. I know you feel it too…I love you. Don’t push me away. Please.” He rambled, grabbing both sides of your face and staring deep into your eyes with a fierce fondness that was so unequivocally Wolffe that you knew he wasn’t lying.

Tears welled up and spilled over your cheeks as you finally let the walls break down. “I just thought you’d realize you were too good for me. Because I’ve always thought you were. Perfect man with an average girl like me. And that’s why you wouldn’t want to be seen with me. And that pretty soon you’d get tired of me and stop coming back for someone who’s so pathetically and hopelessly in love with you. I didn’t want to push you away. But I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same. I didn’t think I deserved you. So I tried and tried to see other people, to run away from you before you had the chance to hurt me. I’m sorry, Wolffe. I’m so-”

Suddenly, his lips were closing around yours, cutting off the last words of an apology you never had to make. “Hey…hey…c'mon now…run away? You know I’m fast enough to keep up, mesh’la. Never letting someone like you slip away from me that easily. There’s no one good enough for you. Doesn’t mean I won’t try and succeed anyway. I’m never going to leave you or give up on you.” He cupped your face between his hands and smirked, “You really think I’m perfect, huh? Even with the eye?”

You choked out a laugh through your blubbering tears and ran a hand up the back of his neck, gripping the dark curls in your fingers. “Even more so.” You nodded, watching the concern in his eyes lessen as he calmed you down. 

“Well, I know I’m more perfect for you than that guy.” Wolffe snickered, pressing his hand against the wall to surround your body with his. You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled him into a deep kiss, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to twist with yours.

“I’m just glad I don’t have to keep looking for guys to date to make you jealous. You’re an impossible man to live up to.” You said breaking the kiss and gasping as he gripped your hips possessively. Your hands ran over the clasps of his armor, clicking it off of him and tossing the chest plate to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

He tilted your neck roughly, kissing along your jaw harshly and using his hands to guide yours across his chest. “Hmm you're right, I was fucking jealous. But I’m glad you don’t have to waste time looking for my replacement in these losers anymore.” His hot tongue kissed up your neck, biting and sucking marks on top of the finger shaped bruises starting to show from his grip earlier. You slid your hands down his torso grabbing at the waistband of his bottoms and pulling them down in one motion. He grabbed your hands and guided them to where his cock sprang up, throbbing for your attention. He laughed darkly in your ear “Besides…who’s gonna fuck you like me?” He tempted you, sliding his cock into your hands and hissing in delight.

He was pounding in your fingers, the head slick and almost purple he was so pent up with need. You dragged a long, slow tug up the shaft and looked down to spit sloppily on top of where you fisted his cock. His jaw dropped open as you coaxed your lubed up fist down his length again, your fingers gripping the perfect amount of pressure around him. “There’s no one like you, Wolffe. No one.” You whispered seductively, batting your lashes at him and twisting your fist back up.

He growled in amusement, happy to have his ego stroked by you once again. “That’s right. Don’t you forget it. Fuck mesh’la-” His words interrupted to let out a whine as you gingerly ran your fingers around the ridge of his tip. He kept his hands on the wall beside your head, letting you work him to within an inch of his sanity and torturing himself by not touching you.

You smirked up at him, your eyes innocent and compliant, as your hands slowly worked him. Resting your foreheads together and brushing your lips against his with every word you muttered, “You can never forget your best…can you, Wolffe?” Your other hand ghosted down his bare chest seductively, fully preparing to get on your knees and taste him the way he did you.

He grabbed your hand just as you began to kneel and pulled you in tighter, the hunger in his eyes mixed with his signature brooding seriousness. His mouth quirked in wicked amusement, like he was still as blown away by you as he was the day you met. He huffed softly, whether out of arousal or admiration you couldn’t tell. “Never.” He answered, the fond softness in his voice a sound no one but you would ever believe he could make. “But if you get down on your knees for me right now…you’re not going to make it out of here looking very presentable for your date.” He teased, the threat more arousing to you than he probably anticipated.

“Oh I’m as presentable as I need to be…” You rolled your heat up against him, pressing every part of you against his toned body. “...for what you’ve got planned in here.” He let out a pained whimper, grabbing the plush of your ass in his hand and rolling you into his body harder than before. In a second, the tension between you snapped and his lips were on yours like you were his only source of air to breathe. Hands gripped waists and scratched down shoulders and backs as you both scrambled to get at each other.

He lifted you off the ground and wrapped your legs around his waist, hovering your slick heat right along his needy cock. “Should walk you out there and fuck you right out on that bar. Front of everyone. Show them how I make you mine.” A deep rumble in his chest filled the room and you rolled your hips along his length to work him up more.

He backed up to the fresher mirror, pressing your back up against the cool, transparisteel wall. “Thought you wanted to keep me hidden. Keep me safe.” You challenged, sucking dark hickies into the tanned skin of his neck and humming as you felt his pulse under your tongue. 

“No. That was stupid. Would rather show you off. Anyone who's got a problem is gonna have to deal with me. You know I’m not very friendly.” He growled, slapping your ass hard just to watch you squirm. “Besides…that’ll you make happy, right? You can let everyone know the Commander claims you.” A rush of heat floods your center, still resting precariously over Wolffe’s length. He felt it immediately, chuckling to himself. “That’s what I thought. Makes you fucking wet, mesh’la.”

His hands tangled in your hair and pulled, forcing your gaze up toward him. You could feel yourself swollen with need for him, the heat in your entrance dripping down to coat him without him even having to touch you. His hold on you was like no other man’s could ever be. Your eyes were heavy with lust, your desire to have him take you, to submit to him, was so strong that maybe you would let him take you out there. In here. In your place. Or his barracks. Wherever he wanted. You finally trusted him. With that fear out of the way, all that was left was your need for him.

“You do, Wolffe. It’s all you. You’ve got me like this. Now make me yours.” You beg, your thumbs tracing gentle, affectionate circles on the plane of his chest. You sink your hands lower, feeling his body shiver slightly under your touch. You traced the intoxicating dips of his abs flexing as they helped carry the weight of you effortlessly. He was fucking gorgeous. You don’t think anyone ever tells him that enough even if they treat him like he is.

“Look at you…giving me orders now…you’re lucky you look so pretty tonight…or I’d have to do something about you being so mouthy…” His hand closed around your throat gently, squeezing just enough to make the blood pound in your ears. He scowled at you menacingly, his brown eye glinting with mischief because he knew how much you liked being touched like this. With his other hand he pulled your face closer, your lips inches from his and dragged his thumb across them. “Want my name to be the only thing falling from these lips, darlin’. Loud.”

You nodded hastily, slipping his thumb into your mouth and moving yourself into position over his cock. A wicked grin spread across his strong jaw and he lined himself up with your entrance. He ran his fingers through your folds soaked from your first climax and slicked it down the length of his cock. Slowly, he pushed past your entrance, spreading your walls to make space for the sheer size of him. The feeling made Wolffe toss his head back and sigh, carefully pressing himself deeper with your every inhale as you adjusted.

You could never get used to how thick he was, his cock stretching you out almost painfully. He watched you react, both to make sure you were okay to keep going and to practically feast on the sight of you taking all of him. “Wolffe…stars- move..please.” You gasped, grabbing at his chest desperately for more of him. You needed him to do what he does best, tear you apart from the inside out. To not bother being so gentle when you could more than take a little roughness. 

Without even taking another breath, he pulled back, the head of his cock the only part of him still inside you. You whined loudly at the loss, earning you a scolding smack to the ass and teasing growl from Wolffe. “Impatient..” Before you could argue, he slammed into you even harder, the length of him filling your belly and making the tension coil even tighter.

You choked out what sounded like his name with each powerful thrust, scrambling for some part of him to take hold of. You tangled your hands in his dark hair and pulled, bit down on the taut muscles in his shoulders and dragged your nails down his back. The deeper and harder he torqued his hips, the harder it was to keep quiet. Which was exactly what he wanted. “You’re so…fucking good, Wolffe. More, baby.” You begged, feeling the familiar tingling of your climax starting to build in your core and swelling outwards.

“Can’t..get enough…already…” He leaned forward and bit down on the hardened bud of your nipple, making you gasp. His tongue soothed over the mark on one side before he switched to the other and repeated the action, leaving his mark on all the parts of you he loved. You could feel his grip on your waist starting to bruise and the drag of his cock inside you pounding against your walls.

He pushed your back further up the wall to change the angle and the head of his cock speared into a spot so satisfying you yelped. “Fuck..fuck..Wolffe.” You whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you held on to his biceps, hoping it would hold him in place enough to hit that same spot again.

“Say it louder. Louder.” He growled menacingly in your ear as he fucked into you against the fogged mirror. His teeth gritting as huffs of overexertion and dissipating anger left him, his cheek pressed against yours and groaning in your ear with every snap of his hips. “Who’s gonna fuck you like me, mesh’la? Who?”

He was drilling into you so deep you could barely fill your lungs with air before your chest forced out moans of his name. Sounds he desperately wanted to hear more and more of. “Wolffe. Wolffe. Stars- fuck me, Wolffe.”

“Fuck you’re such a good girl. My good girl. You were made for me. This…perfect…tight…pussy. Fuck- made for me. You’re all fucking mine. Say it for me.” He grunted, holding your entire body close to his with just one hand and speeding up his thrusts. Each growling moan through his gritted teeth rumbled low in his chest and rattled through your bones, the deep frequency lulling you into a familiar ecstasy. You were his. He meant it. You were safe and comfortable and more fucking happy with each full thrust than you could ever remember feeling in your entire life.

“I’m yours, Wolffe. I’m all yours.” You sighed, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and steadying yourself as each of his brutal thrusts took you. He smiled, that same warm, affectionate, sideways little smile he gave that waitress earlier, but brighter, happier, softer somehow. Because this time this smile was personal, it was meaningful and it was yours. 

“Gonna make you keep saying that until you believe it, cyar’ika.” His hand slid up your back to cradle your neck as he crashed his lips into yours head on. His hips pressed upward, shoving you higher up against the fresher mirror and smudging the fog behind you. His cock was spreading you open, the sounds of wet friction echoing on the tiles and making you both crave each other faster, hotter, and harder. You swore if Wolffe had pounded you any harder he might shatter the transparisteel mirror or break the duracrete wall behind that. He might take down the whole damn bar if he felt like it. With how powerful his thrusts were, he was certainly strong enough.

Hip bones slammed against hip bones as he chased the high you were carrying him to. Tighter and tighter your walls squeezed as he touched you, fingers on your clit, possessive grips on your waist and tangled fists in your hair. He was ravaging your body deeper than he ever had, consuming all he could of you like he never wanted to forget how you felt. How he and only he could make you feel. You were kidding yourself ever going out with other men. There was no one else. As soon as you thought it, it was spilling out of your mouth. “Ruin me, Commander. Ruin me for anyone else but you.”

He practically howled at that, digging his fingertips into the plush of your waist and angling your hips lower. His cock speared into the deepest part of you so brutally you yelped, dragging your nails down the rippling muscles of his back. You could make your possessive marks all over him too. Make all his men wonder what or who their mighty Commander had gotten tangled with back home. 

“Oh, so that’s what you want, dirty girl? You want me to fuck this tight little cunt the way only I can. You want me to pump you so full of me it’s dripping down your thighs when I walk you out of here. That’s if you can still walk straight…” He practically threatened, pulling himself all the way out of your entrance painfully slowly only to ram himself so hard back inside you that it took your breath away.

“Wolffe!” You gasped, feeling the pooled up heat in your belly starting to overtake you. The white hot pleasure began to sear through your center and radiate outward, losing all sense of feeling for anything else but the drag of Wolffe’s cock inside you and his hot exhales fanning over your face with every word.

“Ah ah…you asked for the Commander. So that’s who you’re getting now, darlin’. And you cum only when I order you to.” He teased, flashing a wicked grin and quickly circling two fingertips on your clit to spur your rapidly approaching climax on even further. “You know the rules…let me hear it…two little words…”

“Please, Commander. Please can I cum for you? Please.” You begged, looking up at him with the big, pleading eyes that drew him to you in the first place. He thought you were an angel that he could corrupt and move on. But you were different. You were a challenge. He’d met his perfect match. Beautiful little freak that fought him at every turn, constantly keeping him on his toes in front of everyone. 

But here, like this, you were pliant, soft, needy, submissive for him. Because you loved him and he respected the fucking hell out of you for seeing past the tough exterior, for seeing how he craved being soft and caring for someone special. You were a fool for thinking he didn’t love you. All the signs were there. You just couldn’t let yourself see it. Your big, brave Commander challenged your own thinking. Pushed you and fought you and battled you until he brought out the best in you. Until he scared away the notion that you weren’t the best thing this galaxy could offer some lucky someone.

The devotion was written all over his face. The brooding serious and constantly suspicious scowl he wore for the world every day wasn’t what he wore right now before you. He was love sick and desperate and starry-eyed. Well as starry-eyed as his grumpy self could ever look. Commander Wolffe loved you. You. He said it himself. You had nothing to run from anymore.

He grabbed your face in his hand and guided you into a kiss so consuming and passionate it made your overthinking mind blank entirely. It was just him, guiding you toward the edge and cutting the strings that held you back from the free fall you were too scared to take. He pulled back with a smirk and ran his hand along your temple. Your body being held solely by his hips pinning you against the wall. “Yes, my good girl, you can…Cum with me, mesh’la. Together.”

His fingers returned to your aching clit, desperately needing his attention. Masterful fingertips traced shapes against it with perfect pressure and precise speed, while his hips drilled the overwhelming girth of his cock into the painfully satisfying spot in your belly that drove you nearly to madness. One, two, three perfectly timed circles on your clit and you felt yourself teetering over into free fall. Your cunt tightened around him in anticipation and his cock plowed into you, Wolffe groaning as your walls suffocated him in place. “Fuck you take me so fucking good…” He groaned, rambling off in a trail of swear words and harsher and harsher pants. He was just as close as you.

You gasped, rocking forward to rest your head on his shoulder and feeling your thighs start to shake uncontrollably as you rocketed over the edge into your high. Your mind wiped completely, your body hurtling through what lightspeed must feel like. His touches on you are burning startrails and you’re chasing the intoxicating warmth filtering into your every last nerve ending. Your own name filled your ears as his hands gripped your hip bones, the strength leaving him with each rope of warmth he pumped into your belly.

“Wolffe!” You screamed, loud enough that you’re certain people in the booths closest to the door could hear. You hope they do. Twisting your hips and rutting into him to drag the feeling out longer, you bit down on his shoulder and he shuddered, his body tensing as he shot another white hot string of release inside you. He was whimpering and shuddering with every pass and you lost track of just how many times he spilled inside you. He fell into you, catching himself with both hands against the wall and resting his head on your shoulder. He placed the softest kisses he's ever given you along the length of your collar bone as he guided you through your climax. Wave after wave washed over you, your body arching into the protection of his.

“Good girl…ride it out. You’re fucking perfect. Been so good for me. Always are, mesh’la.” He whispered between love bites and slow kisses. His large hands caressed the sides of your waist, lifting your body off the wall to wrap you around him carefully. His spend slowly spilled out of your opening as you shifted, making Wolffe let out a raspy grunt of satisfaction.

Your voice was hoarse from moaning his name and your body was beginning to tire from the sheer blow of the orgasm that rocked you. The feeling was coming back in your limbs and you felt your body go limp in his arms as he carried you. You took in deep, soothing and fulfilling breaths, nuzzling into the crook of his neck affectionately. “Wolffe…?” You asked, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He laughed, pulling you back to look you up and down and brushing hair off your face. “I know…you let me fuck you in the fresher…at MY bar. Knew I’d get you someday.” You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to kiss him again, letting him win without argument this time. He reached down to hand you your skirt and top. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to get dressed already.” You joked, shooting him a puzzled glance.

He set you down on your feet and helped you zip up your skirt while he positioned his plastoid back in place. You spun around to give yourself the once over in the mirror, wiping smeared make up and tear stains off your cheeks. You smoothed out what you could of the mess he’d made pulling your hair, before you felt his hands on your waist again. 

“Well, normally no. But you’ve got a date…” Your eyes met in the mirror, his roaming down the curves of your body and back up. He spun you around in his grasp, leaning down to kiss you deeply. 

“...So we better get back out there before they give our table back to that fucking guy I hate.”

--

P.S. AHHH it's done. I loved this work. The inspo just hit me listening to this song and I was like oh this is so Wolffe. I absolutely adore what fanon and canon did with his character. He is the most realistic of all the clones. He's proud and strong and kind of closed off, but only to protect the caring, soft, compassionate person he really is inside. He just doesn't always want to show it. Grumpy Handsome Commander <3

taglist: @literallydontlook @maulslittlemeowmeow @kaminocasey @rexandechosandwich @palpipeen @lackofhonor @rikki-b-lake @writteninthesw

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 8

Synopsis: Truths are revealed, jeopardizing what lies between these two lovers. Why? And how?

A/n: Angst! Angst! And in this chapter, I personally will relinquish a grudge, Sophia I forgive you now, sorta. I swear things may improve! Also, Petronella is a girl's girl and alive. Fuck what the Canon says.

You never expected the tables to turn that quickly. You never wanted to have an affair. You just subconsciously wanted him. Maybe more than subconsciously.

How dumb.

You left his office and went off to your tutoring. Your chest still ringing from beating too hard. Your ears were tingling.

You figured one would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to not notice your obvious puppy dog. (Or how did he put it just now? “A fawn separated from it’s mother too early”…?) Crush you were developing on him.

Was it desperation and he was merely scratching an itch? Something to warm his bones after a dry-spell since his wife died? If not, why not just go see an escort? (You shuddered at an accidental outing.)

You doubted it was a crush, like you held. Do men in their upper fifties (Your best guess at his age…) get crushes? You also doubted that.

And why did it seem like he had twice the amount of pulse in his body. If you didn’t know anatomy, you would swear he had two hearts in his chest.

You shook your head and left silly thoughts and trying to define this experience.

Whatever it was, it began to happen fast. You would meet up between classes in his office for a quick fuck. Or if he saw you on campus he’d guide you to somewhere secluded for a kiss on your cheek and a remark about your latest diatribe in class.

You still met up every Monday for some actual tutoring on his class.

Once he took you out to park at the edge of town for a little coffee date.

He respected your work schedule and always never asked questions.

You were dearly grateful.

The term was coming to an end, and you were in the library. It was late and you covered in highlighter ink and were approaching clinical insanity. You felt a now-familiar set of hands on your shoulders.

“Burning the candle at both ends? I see.”

“Hey.” You broke out of your reverie and statistics-essay informed stupor. It might have been a tad bit louder than you intended.

“Play hooky from work this weekend. I’ve got to go to London for my other job.” First time he ever mentioned a second job. Did the university really pay it’s professors that little? You heard a few, more junior ones kvetching once. But him? He was definitely tenured.

“Another job?” You questioned.

“Yeah, I made a bad choice in the 70’s. It’s followed me around since then. Do come. I’ll do us somewhere special.” So your calculations on his age were wrong. He was maybe just a tad bit older than upper fifties…

Probably lower sixties.

“Sounds fine by me. It’s been slowing up.” You remarked.

He leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“Do ditch the energy drink. They’re ever so bad on human’s guts.”

A weird quirk. He’d always say humans or apes. As if he was above or different. Maybe it was the fact he was an old white guy.

Yeah, that was it. Old white guy brain rot.

“Meet me at that park… Friday, around three PM.” He instructed.

“Okay…”

“I’ll let you go back to your studies. I know how much you value them.” A final kiss and he faded out as quickly as he appeared.

You texted your manager and explained that you weren’t able to do the weekend shift, but definitely Thursday night. If you were to go to London, you’d proceed some mad money to spend on your own if his second job left you hostage for too long to your own devices.

And you canceled on a few regulars.

“Family issues.” Always a surefire way to get out of these things. Vague enough to not garner questions and would gain some sympathy. You hoped some other girl wouldn’t nab them, but you knew how people were. That one girl, Sophia, once stole your biggest tipper who saw you on both Friday nights and Sunday evenings because she’d do oral without a condom.

Damn that stomach flu you had that weekend.

You worked that night, slow but a big tip had materialized. Perfect.

By the time you had gotten home and napped for a few hours, you had a dilemma. Obviously you didn’t want your work knickers and robes mixing in with your real life clothes. Taint the divide you had.

You stared at your open suitcase. It was a little carry-on one. Yet the empty inside could swallow you whole. You threw in the most fancy of your basics in. It seemed the best idea. You pressed your hand to your mouth and let out a nervous scream.

Why was picking out what clothes you’d wear to probably just stay in a hotel all weekend stressful?

And were you entering kept whore territory?

Your situationship was dreadfully unlabeled.

You definitely knew he wasn’t your boyfriend. That word was horribly trite and evoked images of teens and young adults running about to dinner dates and cuddling each other on the bus. Or feeling each other up behind the seats in a cinema.

Not that you had particularly a detailed actual history with long-term or healthy relationships.

That’s life.

Did he even drive? How were you two getting to London? You just sat there on the bench after going to the park. It was nearly three.

You scratched at your eyelid, fighting the urge to tear off your lower lip with your fingernails.

Checking your phone, you didn’t see the big black Range Rover pulling up in front of you. The back passenger side door popped open, startling you a bit. “Hey you, get in. Apparently I’m very late.” You saw him in the back, a few soldiers in it with him. (They looked like soldiers. You decided they were.)

You grabbed your little carry-on suitcase and went in. An anxiety attack was bubbling up. What was his other job? You slid in and clenched your suitcase and purse between your legs.

You were going to London, so you chose a classy, sleek, small black number. You made the right choice. It was positively crowded in here.

There was a cute, disgruntled looking girl with an oversized knit scarf and some hipster glasses on in the front passenger seat.

“Hi! I’m Osgood!” She stretched back and offered you her hand. “You’re his...assistant?” She seemed confused by your general existence, but pleased you were another girl in this car of men. You couldn’t blame her! You took it and shook.

“She’s my companion.” The bastard finally labeled your situationship. Companion, very old timey. He let out of beaming smile, and continued on, “Petronella Osgood, (y/n's full name). (Y/n’s full name), Petronella Osgood. The new lead scientific advisor and assistant to the Head of UNIT!” His hand nearly swiped one of the soldier’s faces. “You’re both clever and don’t think like a normal human. You’ll be friends by Sunday night…”

If you could have balled yourself up and rolled away like a pill bug of you could.

“Do you like Costa? I’m trying to convince these people to stop by on our way home! Usually he just shows up, you know how he is with that TARDIS of his. But the Doctor said this would be best for him to do today…” She battered you with information and words.

You’d discuss this all with him further in private. Right now, you had to play a role.

“Yeah, I could go for…a Cortado.” You choked out. Coffee would help this all be absorbed a lot quicker.

She began fiddling with the vehicle’s GPS.

They all began talking about whatever techno-babble and such. It was over your head. You felt yourself getting heart burn and a migraine.

Petronella asked you something. And like a baby with dribble on it’s shirt, you said sluggishly: “What?”

“Do you think that we should do a frontal advance?”

“Maybe not?” You just started making things up on the fly. Filling it in ad-lib style!

You wanted to kill yourself.

“I mean, if… you go… from the front…all in. They’ll be…able to see you?” You heaved. “If you go from the…sides…and like, guerilla style…whatever is happening will…be a surprise …you remember like, the Germans against Rome or Boudicca, also against Rome…yeah.” You ended. You deserved a little chewing on the inside of your cheek, as a treat.

Soon enough, you pulled up to a Costa, Petronella seemed very eager to order in-shop. And to drag you in.

You collected the soldier’s and Professor Smith (Oh! Yeah, they called him Doctor…you’d demand the truth later.) Orders.

You were so eager to leave the car for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey, mind if I smoke real quick?” You had quit, but there was a lose one in the purses pocket, and the situation called for one. If ever there was a time to start smoking, it’d be now.

“I have asthma! But sure! I can wait.” She went into the weird little room that’s neither inside nor outside that commercial spaces tend to have. She got a phone call.

You could use this as an opportunity to get information about the man who you had been fucking. She’d be more helpful here. She clearly knew him better. Sure you had seen him naked. But she knew him on a more intimate level it seemed.

You finished up your cigarette and crushed it under the heel of your shoe. You got a bottle of perfume out and began dusting it on a heavy layer. You took one big inhale and rolled your neck around. It cracked and you relaxed a bit.

Entering the Costa, she hung up her phone and smiled.

You both ordered. You got yourself one of their fruit biscuits and went to get out your cash.

“Oh no! I got it! All of it.” She whipped out a black card and tapped it to the reader. “Perks of the job.”

You nodded your head. You had heard of UNIT, but couldn’t be arsed to care.

“So, the Doctor.” The name sounded foreign coming out of your mouth. “How long have you worked with him?”

“Oh! Five years now!”

You placed a hand on your throat and rested your jaw on it.

“What’s his deal?”

“Wish I knew, but we should all be glad he exists, he’s the best we got.”

Oh!

You let out a little “mmhmm.”

Before you could get your next question, the drinks and your snack came.

She grabbed her milk babyccino and handed you your Cortado as you left the Costa. You didn’t want to get back in the Range Rover. This all seemed like a very bad idea. You should have never agreed to this.

But here you were, so you had to deal with it.

You got back in the back, the solider driving said they’d have to speed along, no stops.

You shrunk in the seat. You felt his one hand stroke your upper arm. He was trying to comfort you. You wish you could recoil, but you had grown too addicted to his touch. Against all instinct, you leaned into him and sipped your coffee. Just sat an observed, chiming in when people would outright ask you for your input. More sipping your coffee and staring glumly out the front windshield. You felt like a caged beast.

Soon enough you were in London and you could get out of the car. Sadly, it pulled into an underground military-style bunker.

You were very proud of yourself for keeping your cool and now having a major breakdown in there.

You entered a lift, still carrying your suitcase.

It went all the way to the top.

Some woman in a very impressive suit and a silk scarf met you all there.

More introductions.

The Doctor – Professor Smith- whatever his real title or honorific was, took your suitcase and told someone to take it to a place. You didn’t retain or hear. You were positively swimming. You hated how good this artificial, florescent lighting made the hollows of his face looked. He was a bit more formal in his dress than he ever was at the university. In this moment you hated how you were reacting to him. Obviously he had to confess things to you.

Obviously, there was a bit of a double standard, but this outweighed your little evasions and white lies.

There was a meeting and grand plans were drawn. Choices were made.

And you had to make choices for yourself.

It was close to midnight when you finally got out of the meeting. Tomorrow apparently they’d denote a device, after it was programmed and set up during the night. Apparently that’d save the Earth.

He was swanning along like he owned the place. Everyone was reverent. His word was law and his advice was the loudest.

Maybe you shouldn’t have smoked that cigarette beforehand. Maybe you needed several shots of vodka. Maybe you just were way out of your depth.

Soon enough you had an escort of two soldiers for him and you to a suite with the bare essentials of comfort. Your stupid suitcase was there. Like a fancy barracks.

The door locked and you were alone with him.

“It’s time I tell you some truths.” He said, sitting in a chair at the desk.

You threw your hands up, “You fucking think so?” It came out as a screech. You clapped your hand to your mouth.

“What the fuck?” You clapped your hands together as you leaned over and down to face him. “What the fuck was all that?” You crouched into a squat.

“Let me tell you.” His tone was silencing. Like you were in the wrong for this reaction.

“Fine!”

“Firstly, this changes nothing about the past months. But I am an alien from a planet far away and long since gone. I am over two-thousand years old. My name, my title, is the Doctor. Well the closest translation to any Earthling's language.”

You leaned back, gesturing with your hands in the “okay” position.

“I may be a little fucking slow, I may have a few learning disabilities, but I’m not fucking stupid. Are you…aware…of how incredibly far-fetched that sounds?” Your body swaying with the position of your hands. The hands quickly moved to press into the center of your forehead.

He undid a few buttons on his shirt.

You groaned.

He grabbed at your hands and you tried to escape. He flattened the palm of one and pressed it against his chest. You felt two hearts pumping. Your little observation after the first time you hooked up on how it seemed like he had two pulses wasn’t so stupid suddenly...

“Two hearts, fawn.” He said, using his pet name for you. “I’m alien.”

Your lower lip quivered.

No wonder he felt different than any other man you’d fucked previously. His body was different. He was.

Hot tears burned at the corners of your eyes, starting to splash out. You pulled yourself free and slunk onto the closest wall.

Figures that your first big infatuation that actually seemed to value your life was a fucking ancient alien. You felt like a total freak, were you really that screwed up that the only way you’d get anything resembling a healthy relationship was with an alien!

Your head found its way between your thighs.

“Nothing changes.” He repeated.

“How many others have you done this to?” You spat out. Pure venom.

“Rarely like you.”

“Oh, so I’m just the latest and greatest girl you’ve lured into submission! How kind! I was chosen! I feel special!” You raged out. Giving a little sarcastic bow from your sat position.

He joined you against the wall. You skittered yourself away from him.

“You’re special. Trust me. I had stopped. You met me in a different way. No danger, no trauma-bonding. No Nothing. If not for duties I neglected here for too long, I would have keep you safe. Continued to be your Professor John Smith. Existed…but I couldn’t bear not seeing you for as long as this will take here. Separate. Not my traveling assistant, not anything. Just my little fawn and our perfect microcosm of the universe.” He slid forward and looked you dead in the eye.

He cocked his head, “Remember when I was talking about what the universe owed us? I figured this was my long-awaited, pleaded for reward. To have you, for as long as this little life of yours could allow this fling to last.”

He was very good with words and you could feel them echoing pure and true in your head. Something made you relax and let your guard down.

You hoped it wasn’t some alien superpower he had.

You began openly weeping. Loud, a total cacophony. You started choking on your tears and having a hard time breathing.

He wiped the tears.

You let our a hiccup. He started rubbing small circles on the middle of your back.

“I planned on seeing a West End play with you, a proper date, like a human man would take a human woman to. If you don’t want to, I can order a car and you can go back to Bristol.” He offered.

You started crying even harder.

“Can I shower first? Before I can make a choice. On anything. Even you...” You admitted, needing to revise on your end if you even wanted to be with him in any capacity anymore.

“Understandable, (y/n).” The Doctor helped you up, and gave you your suitcase. You found your toiletries bag and shuffled in. You swore you heard him mutter, “Well, don’t overthink.” But you left that be. You had enough to think about, just add that to the list.

After getting undressed, you turned the water on the hottest it could go.

You began to wash away the day…

So much to think about…so little time to do so.

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Call of Cthulhu (Jade Leech)

Thank you for 1000 followers! Hope you enjoy the Horror Event!

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

Horror Event Masterlist

Requested by a lovely Anon!

⚠️ WARNING: slight gore, depictions of falling into madness, Jade is a bit of a madlad

"You like interesting things, don't you? And yet, you surround yourself with boredom."

"A necessary evil."

"I can help you get rid of the boring."

"I require no assistance."

"A man of science, a man who longs for knowledge, don't you want to experience the exhilaration of losing?"

Jade grits his teeth, trying to keep his reactions to a minimum despite the splitting headache ravaging his consciousness. He has no idea of where he is, but also he absolutely knows. There’s far too much assaulting his eyes, and yet he stands in total darkness. He hears a million voices coming from the silence, and there is no smell to register in the thousand scents reaching his nose. Too much and nothing, at the same time.

He can feel himself slip, and he fights it with all he is.

If only he could grasp what he is.

It’s difficult to think when there’s Them and then there’s You and You are not Yours but Theirs—no. Wait. You are Jade. He is Jade. Jade Leech.

Jade Leech.

Jade.

“Jade.”

He gasps when one familiar voice reaches his existence. It is his lover’s—right, he has one of those. A love whom he loves with a love that might be more than love. That… is a poem? From her world. Right. Her world, the world of his lover. The world that is filled with poems and words and stories and—stories and stories and stories—stories about…  mythos. Mythos beyond the being to explain—or to play with, play with like a game of possibilities, humans love those, sentience loves those, the possibilities—things beyond comprehension.

Old Gods.

Jade grunts when the headache becomes a piercing drumming against his mind. The feeling of being right should be more pleasant.

“Give in. Give in. Give in give in give in givegivegivegivegivegeigevigeivegei–”

Enough.

Silence.

“Jade…”

A whimper.

Jade hears something drip. He’s in a laboratory, fascinating tools littered all over, tools and tubes and blades and glass and rubber and metal and—blood. And blood. Bloooood. BloOd.

Drip, drip, drip, drip.

He looks at the floor where the blood is forming a pool.

Drip drip drip drip

He follows the trajectory of the drops with his eyes.

Dripdripdripdrip

On top of the table, lies (Y/N). Her body opened like a science experiment, opened and held open by fascinating shiny metal tools. Blood and guts and guts and blood. Organs. Flesh. Meat. Bones. Blood. Her eyes devoid of all shine except those of betrayed tears. The pungent smell of death hits his nose the same time a sick sense of thrilled despair floods his veins in the place of his blood.

He—Jade. Jade. Jade. Jade does not need to look at his hands to know.

He knows the grip of a blade.

He knows the grip of a loss.

Jade. Jade knows the exhilaration.

Jade hates it. Hates it. Jade hates it.

“Jade!”

Retching right after waking up surely is not the normal for one Jade Leech—right, he is Jade Leech—, but crying and clinging to his girlfriend is also not normal, so he won’t put much thought into it. He does try to not grip her too tight, afraid of what his hands can do when he’s out of control.

“Jade, honey, what happened?” (Y/N) runs her fingers through his hair, and he’s back at existing within the limits of comprehension.

In a soft voice, he tells her his experience, not daring to leave out even the most disturbing detail, and he is pleased when she keeps her ministrations without so much as flinching. Once he’s done, she confirms that he probably just got messed with by an Old God, and explains the concept of cosmic terrors beyond reality once again to make sure they’re on the same page. Then she goes on to talk about games and game lore and how they shouldn’t be there nor should Jade be seeing things so early in the game and Jade can tell it is relevant information he should be paying attention to, but instead he retreats to his thoughts and organizes what he knows about Old Gods, trying to look for weaknesses.

After all, more interesting than experiencing the death of his lover, Jade muses, would be to kill a god.