#scheduled task in aws

[doctorwillsolace]

holy shit my brain really can not handle having to remember more than 5 things at once can it

[july-19th-club]

just so you know by the way that wasnt me. idk who that was. that was somebody desperate that was someone in love. if you even care

[hyah-lian]

.......

[ddlydevotion]

Grace and Bo Chow both being infatuated with you 💌 ₊˚⊹⋆

a/n: I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing this! This post contains nsfw content/slightly obsessive behavior so proceed with caution. This is also quite long so I apologize for that. Look out for a part two!

currently listening to: Cupid by Sam Cooke

You met Bo first. You applied for a job at the shop and proved yourself to be incredibly dependable. He allowed you to count the money in the register, keep logs of what was going in & out of the store, and take care of client records and accounts. The two of you had a purely professional relationship, but if a professional relationship consisted of longing glances, lingering touches, and endearing nicknames.

You knew he was married, the golden band around his ring finger didn't let you forget the fact that he was. You felt horrible for even entertaining the nicknames and the close contact he kept with you, but you considered yourself to be on the safe side of things. As long as the two of you kept the touchiness to a minimum and didn't take your affection for one another to the bedroom, everything was fine.

His wife, Grace, tended to their shared store on the white side of town. She'd occasionally pop into the store to check in on Bo & their daughter, making sure she completed her tasks for the day. Afterwards, she'd never fail to make her way up to you and ask about your day.

"How are ye doin? Bo been treatin' you well?"

"You're doin' a good job around 'ere, girl. We gotta keep you here, don't want the other stores to try an' take ye from us."

Bo would affirm her praise by nodding his head and adding in his own little two cents. Grace wouldn't shy away from rubbing your arm or placing a delicate finger underneath your chin while saying "you're a real pretty girl, y'know that?". Her physical touch could be disguised as something playful and sweet, something between two women that were fond of one another. But, as the two of them made eye contact over your head they knew that what they had in store for you was anything but playful.

The playful banter between the three of you continued for weeks after that. You didn't expect anything more to blossom from your friendship with the married couple, but the clueless cloud you had over your head was quickly blown away one night. It was usual for them to invite you over to have dinner at their shared home. It was a common occurrence that even Lisa looked forward to as you were never anything but kind to her.

If you try to tell them that you wouldn't be able to make it due to a packed schedule, they'd do everything in their power to convince you to show anyway.

"Oh, we promise we won't keep you long. C'mon ya could just come on over for some dinner and make your way home after that. promise."

"awe are ya sure? Lisa was really lookin' forward to seeing ya again."

Sure, it was common for them to invite you over for dinner. However, it wasn't all too common for them to invite you into their bedroom. They'd usually keep you past midnight to have conversation going in the kitchen, but Bo offered to move the late night ritual into their bedroom. The conversation went on as normal and the wine in your glass disappeared by the minute. You sat with your legs crossed on their wooden-framed bed, the couple sat right in front of you. Bo's hand made a home for itself on the skin of your thigh that peaked from underneath your dress, he rarely ever showed such explicit affection like this. You expected Grace to become angry with the two of you, rightfully so, and have the night come to an end. Instead, she moved towards you and swept your hair out of your face with those delicate fingers of hers you've come to admire.

"I don't think ya know just how pretty ya are. I mean, jus' look at that face, baby. You just might be the prettiest damn thing I've ever seen." Bo's hand moved towards the inside of your thigh and a small smile stretched across his lips. "s'true, sweetheart", both of his hands eventually moved towards the inside of your thighs, spreading you open for him, Grace shuffling behind you before positioning your head to lay on her lap.

The night ended with your legs curved around Bo's slender waist as he pumped his cock into you, the coarse hair at the base of his cock stimulating your pulsing clit once he finally bottomed out. Grace kept herself busy, too. She rubbed your throbbing clit with her middle & ring finger, occasionally cradling your flushed cheeks and encouraging you to "take that cock, baby. s'so big, ain't it? I know, I know", shushing your whines and cooing at your fucked out expression. She couldn’t help but smile when you let out a surprised squeal at the feeling of her fingers tweaking and pinching your sensitive nipples.

Your relationship with the Chow's was never made public to the town, I mean, why would it be? Everyone in your close circle knew that the three of you were quite the close bunch of friends, but they didn't know the rest of it.

I can definitely see the both of them being possessive over you. They could see you talking with a friend of yours outside of the store and immediately interrogate you about it.

"She's just a good friend of mine! What's this all about?"

"Y'know damn well what this is all about. She looked like she was imaginin' what ya looked like without your clothes on."

It'd make them inexplicably upset to see you in a relationship with anyone that isn't them. They'd never allow you to do so without putting up a fight, though. It'd be foolish for you to think they'd let you go so easily. Even if you did get romantically involved with anyone else, you'd never be truly satisfied. Grace and Bo raised your standards to the damn moon and it'd be impossible for anyone to try and fill their shoes. Whenever your partner did anything wrong, you couldn't help but think "they'd never do that to me."

Helping Grace whenever she's working on a sign for a client. She doesn't hold back on sharing just how proud she is of you when you finish up a paint job.

Sharing many passion filled nights with the couple at the Juke Joint. You spend so much time sat at the bar without ordering anything just to talk to Grace. Bo pulls you in to dance with him and no one around bats an eye. What's wrong with two friends sharing a dance together? However, the way his glistening eyes gaze into yours with such intense passion behind them is anything but platonic.

It's incredibly easy for you and Grace to hide the true nature of your relationship. Nobody suspects anything even when her arm is firmly wrapped around your waist, or when her lips graze your cheek in a sweet peck. That's just how good friends celebrate one another.

They always find themselves on your front porch with gifts and they hardly ever show up empty handed. The gifts range from sundresses perfect for the southern heat, pastries they know you'll enjoy, savory treats the both of them worked on.

You're constantly heading over to their home and being convinced to stay the night by the sweet-talking couple. They don't entertain the possibility of you staying in a spare room, they want you to make yourself familiar & comfortable with their bedroom. Their spare room is honestly quite useful in having visitors believe that's where you stay, assisting in avoiding any questions about the true nature of your 'friendship'.

Bo wraps himself around your body like a koala and Grace curls herself into a fetal position in front of you, relishing in the feeling of your warm arms around her.

taglist: @officialthrad @bochowswife @thegr33nc0met @missroro @mjwhis @foreid let me know if you'd like to be added!

[allpiesforourown]

Roommate Luo Binghe having an extremely productive schedule that leaves people in awe. This man gets up at 6 am every day, goes to the gym, always cooks a healthy meal at home instead of eating out, etc. People think he's some hard-core grindset alpha male wannabe but it's really just that every single thing he does is for his roommate.

Shen Yuan doesn't get up until 10am on most days, so Binghe plans all his tasks without shen yuan for then. He has breakfast, works out, showers, does the grocery shopping. By the time Yuan ge wakes up and sleepily wanders into the living room, binghe has been working on brunch for over an hour. He tells people he ran all his errands before lunch and they look at him like he's crazy. But he wouldn't have it any other way. When else is he supposed to go to the bank? During Yuan-Ge Waking Hours when they could instead be cuddling on the couch together?? No way.

And he can't get greasy takeout, Yuan ge is sensitive to that! And if he eats out alone, Yuan ge will be too lazy to cook something and skip his meal... Binghe would rather spend hours testing and tweaking recipes to create homemade versions of popular snacks that his best friend can stomach.

When he was 12, Yuan-ge got too fatigued to walk home and collapsed. Binghe’s been careful to make sure shen yuan doesn't push himself that hard ever again, but whenever they're outside and shen yuan looks tired, Binghe will haul him into his arms and carry him home bridal style while ignoring shen yuans flustered demands to be put down. Getting hit on at the gym is secondary- what's important is that he's strong for Yuan-ge.

Whenever Shen Yuan gets sick and Binghe abandons all his plans to stay by his bedside and handfeed him soup, Shen Yuan says "sorry, I'm ruining your schedule.. you're usually so busy.." Binghe is confused. On a regular day, he's just taking care of shen yuan. Now, he's still just taking care of shen yuan. But it's too much to say "gege, everything I do is for you" so instead Binghe just smiles and says it's no problem.

[velvetvisionsaurora]

Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader

Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!

When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.

As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.

<<Previous Next>>

Masterlist Ko-Fi☕️

 Chapter 13: Omega Eyes

Yunho had abandoned his gaming session entirely, drawn downstairs by the lingering memory of your purr and chirp, and the irresistible pull of whatever was happening to your omega. Now he sat at the kitchen table, methodically eating the cookies you'd brought him while watching you move around the kitchen with an expression of pure fascination.

You were beautiful like this—completely in your element, humming softly as you flitted from stove to counter to sink with an efficiency that spoke of deep omega satisfaction. Every movement was purposeful yet graceful, your entire being radiating contentment as you prepared what appeared to be enough food to feed an army.

Yunho had been sitting there for nearly an hour, mesmerized by the transformation he was witnessing. This wasn't the professional assistant who carefully managed their schedules and maintained polite boundaries. This was your omega in full domestic mode, nesting and providing with an instinctual drive that was both beautiful and deeply moving to watch.

The sound of the front door opening barely registered until he heard Hongjoong's voice in the hallway, followed by Seonghwa's lower tones. The two had been at the studio working on final touches for their next promotional appearance, but they were home earlier than expected.

"Yunho?" Hongjoong's voice carried a note of confusion as he entered the kitchen and found the younger alpha sitting motionless at the table. "What are you doing?"

"Where’s Y/n? You were supposed to—" Seonghwa began, then stopped abruptly as he followed Hongjoong into the room.

Yunho simply pointed toward where you were standing at the stove, stirring something that smelled absolutely incredible. "Look," he said softly, his voice filled with wonder.

Both alphas turned to follow his gaze, taking in the sight of you moving around the kitchen with that same graceful efficiency Yunho had been watching. At first glance, it might have seemed like simple dinner preparation, but there was something different about your energy, something that made both experienced alphas take notice.

"Her eyes..." Seonghwa breathed, his own gaze sharpening as he focused on your face.

Yunho nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off you. "She's been like this for an hour. Maybe longer."

Hongjoong frowned, studying your movements with growing confusion. "What do you mean, her eyes? What's—"

His question was cut off as you turned to check something in the oven, giving him a clear view of your face for the first time. Hongjoong's words died in his throat as he caught sight of what the others had already noticed.

Your eyes held a soft, dim purple hue that seemed to glow from within—subtle but unmistakable to anyone who knew what to look for. Omega eyes. The equivalent of an alpha's golden glow, appearing when an omega's instincts took over and they surrendered to their natural drives.

"Oh," Hongjoong said quietly, the single word carrying a wealth of understanding and something that might have been awe.

All three alphas stood transfixed, watching as you moved through your domestic tasks with that telltale purple shimmer in your gaze. It was beautiful and rare—many omegas never felt safe enough to let their instincts take over so completely, especially not around unfamiliar alphas. The fact that you were doing so here, in their space, was both a gift and a sign of incredible trust.

The moment was broken when you finally noticed their presence. Your face lit up with a genuine smile that made all three alphas' breath catch simultaneously.

"You're home!" you said, your voice carrying a warmth and enthusiasm that seemed to fill the entire kitchen. Without hesitation, you moved toward them, picking up another plate of cookies from the counter as you approached.

"I made cookies," you announced proudly, holding out the plate. The purple in your eyes shimmered brighter as you offered them the fruits of your domestic labor.

Hongjoong accepted a cookie with slightly shaking hands, his alpha responding powerfully to the sight of an omega presenting food she'd made specifically for her pack. "They smell incredible," he managed, his voice rougher than usual.

Seonghwa took one as well, his own hands not entirely steady as he processed what he was witnessing. "Thank you, little one. This is... you've been busy today."

You beamed at their acceptance, that purple glow intensifying with pleasure at their praise. "There's dinner too," you said eagerly, gesturing toward the stove where multiple pots were simmering. "And I did the laundry, and cleaned the living room, and—"

"You've been taking care of us," Yunho interrupted softly, finally finding his voice again. The way he said it—with such reverence and gratitude—made your omega practically purr with satisfaction.

"Of course," you replied, as if there could be no other possible response. The simplicity of your answer, the matter-of-fact way you accepted the role of caretaker, sent a collective shiver of alpha satisfaction through all three men.

Hongjoong bit into his cookie and had to suppress a groan of pleasure at the taste. "These are perfect," he said, and the way your eyes brightened at the compliment was almost blinding. 

You let out a purr at the praise, causing a groan from Yunho and blush from Hongjoong. 

Seonghwa was studying you with that intense focus he brought to understanding the people he cared about. "How long have your eyes been like this?" he asked gently.

You blinked, confusion flickering across your features. "Like what?"

"Purple," Yunho supplied helpfully. "They're glowing purple."

Your hand flew to your face instinctively, as if you could somehow feel the change in your eyes. "They are?"

"It's beautiful," Hongjoong assured you quickly, recognizing the note of uncertainty in your voice. "It means your omega is content. Safe. Happy."

The explanation seemed to reassure you, your smile returning full force. "I do feel happy," you admitted. "Today has been... good. Really good."

"Even after yesterday?" Seonghwa asked carefully, his protective instincts clearly still on high alert.

Your expression softened as you looked at him. "Especially after yesterday. Because now I don't have to hide anymore. I can just... be."

The honesty in your words hit all three alphas like a physical force. To know that you felt safe enough, comfortable enough, to let your omega instincts take control completely—it was a level of trust that none of them took lightly.

"And this is you just being?" Hongjoong asked, gesturing toward the evidence of your afternoon's domestic spree.

You nodded enthusiastically. "I wanted to take care of you. All of you. Because you've been taking care of me, and it felt... right. Natural."

Yunho made a soft sound that might have been a whine, his alpha clearly overwhelmed by your sweetness. "You don't have to take care of us, Tulip. That's not your job."

"I’m your assistant so technically it is my job. But now it doesn’t feel like a job," you corrected him gently, your purple-tinged eyes warm with affection. "It's what I want to do. What feels good to do."

The distinction was important, and all three alphas recognized it. This wasn't about obligation or traditional omega roles—this was about genuine care, freely given, born from your own desires rather than external expectations.

"Well," Seonghwa said, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion, "we're incredibly grateful. All of this—" he gestured around the immaculate kitchen, toward the delicious smells emanating from the stove, "—it's amazing."

You let out a purr of satisfaction again, this time, the sound making all three alphas go slightly rigid with the force of their response. The combination of your glowing purple eyes, your obvious contentment, and that perfect omega sound created a moment of such pure rightness that none of them wanted it to end.

"Should I call the others for dinner?" you asked, already moving toward the hallway as if the thought of your alphas not being properly fed was unacceptable.

"In a few minutes," Hongjoong said quickly, catching your hand gently as you passed. "Let us just... appreciate this for a moment."

You tilted your head curiously, but allowed him to guide you back toward them. Standing there surrounded by three of your alphas, your eyes glowing with omega contentment, offering cookies you'd made with your own hands—it was a picture of domestic bliss that none of them had realized they'd been craving.

And judging by the way your omega was practically radiating satisfaction, it was exactly what you'd been craving too.

---

As Hongjoong and Seonghwa went upstairs to change out of their studio clothes, you returned to your cooking with renewed energy, chattering happily with Yunho who had moved closer to the kitchen island to keep you company. The purple glow had faded from your eyes, returning them to their normal color, but the contentment radiating from your omega remained strong.

"The sauce smells incredible," Yunho commented, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the pot you were stirring. His proximity sent a pleasant warmth through you, and when his hand came to rest lightly on your lower back, you found yourself leaning slightly into the touch.

"It's my mom's recipe," you replied, unconsciously tilting your head to give him better access as his thumb traced small, soothing circles against your spine. "She taught me that the secret is adding the gochujang slowly, letting each bit dissolve completely before adding more."

"Smart woman," Yunho murmured, his hand trailing up to squeeze your shoulder gently. "You'll have to teach me sometime."

The casual touches continued as you worked—his fingers brushing yours when he handed you ingredients, his palm settling on your hip when he moved around you to reach something, a soft kiss pressed to your temple when you successfully flipped the pajeon without breaking it.

"Perfect," he praised softly, his lips lingering near your ear. The combination of his warm breath and gentle approval made your omega purr with satisfaction.

You were so absorbed in cooking and Yunho's attentions that you barely noticed the sound of the front door opening again. It wasn't until you heard Wooyoung's dramatic gasp that you looked up to find four more members crowding into the kitchen doorway.

"What is that incredible smell?" Wooyoung demanded, his eyes wide as he took in the spread of dishes covering every available surface. "Tulip, did you cook all of this?"

San was already moving toward the stove, his expression one of pure amazement. "This looks like a feast. How long have you been cooking?"

"Most of the afternoon," you admitted, ducking your head shyly as their praise washed over you. Your omega practically glowed with pride at their obvious appreciation.

Mingi appeared at your other side, his tall frame creating a warm shield as he peered over your shoulder at the kimchi jjigae bubbling away. "You made kimchi jjigae from scratch?" His voice held a note of awe that made your chest flutter with happiness.

"And pajeon," Jongho added, pointing to the golden pancakes keeping warm in the oven. "And what's that?"

"Bulgogi," you replied, gesturing to the beautifully caramelized beef. "And banchan—pickled radish, seasoned spinach, bean sprouts..."

"You made banchan too?" Yeosang's quiet voice held a wonder that was somehow more affecting than the others' more vocal appreciation. "When did you have time for all this?"

"I just... wanted to," you said simply, the honest admission making several of the alphas make soft sounds of appreciation. "It felt good to cook for you all."

Wooyoung moved to stand behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed his face into your neck—not quite scenting, since your blocker was still in place, but seeking that closeness anyway. "You're amazing," he murmured against your skin. "Absolutely amazing."

"The luckiest pack in Seoul," San agreed fervently, earning nods from the others.

Yunho's hand found the small of your back again, his touch possessive and gentle as he guided you toward the dining table. "Come on, you've been working all day. Let us help serve everything."

"Oh no, I can—" you started to protest, but found yourself surrounded by eight determined alphas who had apparently decided that your cooking duties were officially over.

"Absolutely not," Seonghwa said firmly, appearing in fresh clothes with damp hair that suggested a quick shower. "You've done more than enough. We're taking care of the rest."

Watching them work together to transfer your carefully prepared dishes to the table filled you with a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of the kitchen. Your omega hummed with contentment at the sight of your alphas enjoying the fruits of your labor, their obvious pleasure and gratitude more rewarding than any praise you'd ever received.

And when Yunho pulled out your chair for you with a soft kiss to your temple and a whispered "thank you for taking care of us," you realized that this—being surrounded by alphas who appreciated your care while cherishing you in return—was exactly where you belonged.

---

You finished eating before the rest of them, your omega satisfied by watching your alphas enjoy the meal you'd prepared. Unable to sit still while they continued eating, you quietly began clearing some of the empty serving dishes and storing leftovers, moving around the table with practiced efficiency.

Jongho was the next to finish, setting down his chopsticks with a satisfied sigh. He'd barely started to stand, his plate in hand, when you appeared in front of him as if from nowhere, your hand extended expectantly.

"I can take this to the kitchen," he protested gently, but you simply wiggled your fingers at him, waiting.

Surprised by your insistence but unable to resist your determined expression, Jongho reluctantly placed his plate in your waiting hands. The moment he did, you reached up with your free hand and gently tapped his nose with your finger—a soft, affectionate boop that was followed by the most delighted chirp any of them had ever heard.

Jongho stood frozen as you practically skipped away to the kitchen, his hand unconsciously rising to touch his nose where you'd booped him.

"That..." he said slowly, his voice filled with wonder, "was the cutest thing I have ever seen."

Wooyoung was practically vibrating in his seat, his earlier satisfied calm replaced by excited, dramatic energy. "How—how do I get her to do that? What did you do? How can I make that happen again?" His eyes tracked your movements like a predator watching prey, though his expression was purely adoring.

Most of the others sat frozen in various states of shock, processing what they'd just witnessed. The casual affection, the omega sounds, the pure contentment radiating from your every movement—it was almost too much adorable stimulation for their alpha brains to handle.

Yunho, however, was smiling broadly, looking remarkably pleased with himself. "She did that earlier when I thanked her for the cookies," he said smugly. "Made the most beautiful purr and chirp I've ever heard."

"You didn't tell us about the nose boop!" San accused, his own eyes following your figure as you bustled around the kitchen.

"She didn't do the nose boop for me," Yunho admitted, though he didn't look particularly upset about it. "That was just for Jongho."

"Why just me?" Jongho asked, still touching his nose with an expression of bewildered delight.

"Because you're the baby," Wooyoung declared dramatically. "She's got omega instincts to take care of the youngest pack member!"

But Mingi wasn't participating in the playful analysis. His eyes tracked your every movement with an intensity that was different from the others—more focused, more predatory. His hands gripped his chopsticks so tightly his knuckles were white, and his eyes kept flashing between their normal brown and that telltale alpha gold.

Yeosang, ever observant, noticed first. "Mingi," he said quietly, his voice carefully controlled in the way that suggested he was trying to stay calm. "When is your rut due?"

The question landed like a bomb in the middle of the dining room. All conversation stopped as seven pairs of eyes fixed on Mingi, who had gone very still.

"Next week," Mingi said roughly, his voice strained. "Maybe... maybe a few days."

Hongjoong's expression immediately shifted to leader mode, his alpha instincts recognizing the potential complication. "How long have you been in pre-rut?"

"Since yesterday," Mingi admitted, his eyes flashing gold again as you bent to load dishes into the dishwasher. "Since the incident at the radio station. My alpha's been... restless."

The others exchanged worried glances. A protective alpha in pre-rut, around an omega, whose omega sounds were triggering every instinct they possessed—it was a situation that required careful handling.

"Mingi," Seonghwa said gently, "maybe you should—"

He was cut off as you returned to the dining room, completely oblivious to the tension that had descended over the table. Your satisfied omega energy filled the space as you began collecting more dishes, humming softly under your breath.

Mingi's breathing became noticeably more labored as you moved around the table, his alpha responding to your presence with an intensity that was becoming harder to control. When you reached for his plate, your fingers accidentally brushing his, he jerked back as if burned.

"Sorry," you said softly, concerned by his reaction. "I didn't mean to startle you."

The gentle care in your voice, the worried expression on your face, the way you instinctively moved closer to check on him—it was everything Mingi's pre-rut alpha could want and everything he needed to avoid.

"It's fine," he managed through gritted teeth, his hands clenching into fists to keep from reaching for you. "I'm fine."

But judging by the way his eyes blazed gold and his entire body vibrated with barely controlled alpha energy, fine was the last thing Mingi was.

---

After dinner, you'd settled into the living room with Wooyoung and Yeosang, some of the members went to their rooms, Yunho had taken Mingi for a walk to ‘clear his head’ he had told you.

 The conversation between the three of you had been animated and thoughtful, your omega still riding the high of having successfully cared for your pack, when Wooyoung's attention had suddenly shifted to something else entirely.

"You know," he said, settling closer to you on the couch with that mischievous glint in his eyes that usually meant trouble, "I've been thinking about that adorable little chirp you made for Jongho earlier."

You felt heat rise to your cheeks immediately. "Wooyoung—"

"It was the cutest sound I've ever heard," he continued, completely ignoring your warning tone. "Like a little bird. A happy little Tulip bird."

Yeosang, who had been quietly reading in his chair, looked up with an expression of mild exasperation. "Wooyoung, leave her alone."

"I'm not bothering her!" Wooyoung protested, though his grin suggested otherwise. "I'm just... appreciating her omega sounds. They're beautiful."

"They're involuntary," you said firmly, trying to sink deeper into the couch cushions. "I can't just make them on command."

"But what if you could?" Wooyoung asked hopefully, leaning forward with obvious excitement. "What if I did something really nice for you, and you got so happy that you just couldn't help but chirp?"

"That's not how it works," Yeosang said dryly, not looking up from his book. "You can't manipulate omega responses like that."

"I'm not manipulating!" Wooyoung said indignantly. "I'm providing excellent alpha services that naturally result in omega satisfaction!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculous logic. "Alpha services?"

"Yes!" he said triumphantly, apparently taking your laughter as encouragement. "Like... bringing you snacks! Do you want snacks? I could bring you the most amazing snacks, and then maybe you'd be so grateful and happy that you'd chirp for me too."

"You're not a vending machine," Yeosang observed, turning a page with deliberate calm. "And she's not a pet that performs tricks for treats."

"I never said she was a pet!" Wooyoung protested. "I said she was a beautiful omega who makes the most adorable sounds when she's happy, and I want to make her happy so I can hear them again. That's completely different!"

"It's really not," Yeosang replied flatly.

"What if I sang for you?" Wooyoung suggested, apparently undeterred by Yeosang's logic. "I have a very nice voice. Very soothing. Omega-approved."

"Your voice is not omega-approved," Yeosang said with a slight smirk. "I've heard you sing in the shower. It's traumatic."

"Excuse me!" Wooyoung gasped in mock offense. "My shower singing is a masterpiece of vocal artistry!"

"It's a masterpiece of something," Yeosang agreed mildly.

You were laughing openly now at their banter, which only seemed to encourage Wooyoung further.

"See? She's happy!" he pointed out eagerly. "Surely that's worth at least a little chirp? Just a tiny one?"

"Wooyoung," you said, still giggling, "I can't just chirp on demand. It's not something I control."

"But what triggers it?" he asked with genuine curiosity. "Is it specific types of happiness? Gratitude? Alpha approval? I need to understand the mechanics here."

"There are no mechanics," Yeosang said patiently. "It's instinctual. Emotional. You can't engineer it."

"But Jongho got one just for letting her take his plate," Wooyoung argued. "That's such a simple thing! I do nice things for her all the time!"

"Maybe it's because he didn't expect anything in return," you suggested gently. "He just accepted my help naturally."

Wooyoung considered this seriously. "So if I act completely natural and don't expect a chirp, I might get one?"

"That defeats the purpose of acting natural," Yeosang pointed out with exaggerated patience. "You can't consciously try to be unconscious about it."

"This is very complicated," Wooyoung said with a dramatic sigh. "Being an alpha is hard work. All these omega intricacies to navigate."

"You're overthinking it," you said with fond amusement. "Just be yourself, Wooyoung. The sounds happen when they happen."

"But I want them to happen now," he said with endearing honesty. "Your omega sounds make my alpha very happy. It's like... confirmation that you're content and safe and pleased with us."

The sincere admission beneath his playful demeanor made your heart flutter. Before you could respond, though, something shifted in the air around you. Wooyoung was leaning forward, gesticulating enthusiastically as he made a point about alpha-omega dynamics, when suddenly his scent hit you like a physical force.

Bergamot and ginger, bright and spicy and utterly intoxicating, flooded your senses with an intensity that made your head spin. Your blocker was failing again.

Your blocker was failing again.

"I'll be right back," you said abruptly, standing so quickly that both alphas looked at you with concern.

"Tulip? Are you okay?" Wooyoung asked, half-rising from his seat.

"Fine! Just need to—bathroom," you managed, already backing toward the door. "Be right back!"

You practically ran to the guesthouse, your heart hammering as Wooyoung's scent lingered in your system despite the distance. In your bathroom, you fumbled for the scent blocker behind your ear, peeling it off with shaking fingers. The adhesive came away easily—too easily.

Grabbing a fresh blocker from your supply, you paused before applying it, finally taking the time to read the fine print on the packaging that you'd never bothered with before. Your eyes scanned the text until you found what you were looking for:

*Warning: Effectiveness may be compromised when omega approaches heat cycle. Increased pheromone production may overwhelm blocking capabilities. Consult your physician if...*

Heat cycle. You weren't due for another month, but omega cycles could be irregular, especially under stress. Yesterday's traumatic revelation, the awakening of your omega instincts, being surrounded by eight alphas who were openly acknowledging you as pack—it could easily have triggered an early cycle.

The sound of your front door opening made you freeze.

"Y/n?" Hongjoong's voice called from the main room. "I knocked but there was no answer. You ran off so quickly, I wanted to make sure—"

You emerged from the bathroom, fresh blocker in hand, so wrapped up in your internal panic you hadn’t realized you hadn’t applied it. "I'm okay," you started to say, looking up to meet his concerned gaze. "I just needed to—"

But Hongjoong had gone completely still in your doorway, his entire body rigid with tension. His eyes were fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch, and as you watched, they began to glow that familiar molten gold.

It was becoming a common occurrence recently, but something about this felt different. More intense. More—

The wave of his scent hit you like a tsunami.

Sandalwood and ocean breeze, but stronger than you'd ever experienced it, pure and unfiltered and so perfectly right that your knees nearly buckled. Without your blocker in place, without any barrier between you and his alpha pheromones, the full force of his scent crashed over you and triggered something primal and immediate in your omega.

Your eyes blazed bright purple in response, matching the gold of his gaze as your body went completely rigid. Dimly, you registered the unused blocker falling from your nerveless fingers to clatter on the floor, but you couldn't move to retrieve it. Couldn't move at all.

Because Hongjoong's scent was wrapping around you like a living thing, calling to something deep in your omega that recognized him on a level beyond conscious thought. And from the way his pupils had blown wide, from the way his breathing had gone ragged, you knew he was experiencing the same overwhelming recognition.

He was smelling your scent for the first time too. Jasmine and vanilla, sweet and warm and utterly omega, filling the small space of the guesthouse until it was all either of you could breathe.

The moment stretched between you, loaded with a recognition that went beyond attraction, beyond the connection you'd all been feeling. This was something deeper, something cellular and undeniable.

"Mate," you whispered, the word falling from your lips without conscious thought.

Next>>

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[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Stolas, Millie, Loona, Vaggie, Stella, Husk, Beezlebub and Asmodeus accidentally hitting their S/O During a Fight.

Stolas

It shouldn't have even been an argument.

Looking back he felt awful about the whole thing, it was all so stupid.

Now, despite his extensive and near limitless wealth, at the beginning of your relationship you made it clear you refused to mooch off of him.

Completely that is, he still spoiled you rotten, and you weren't planning on stopping him, But you had a job, maintaining a level of independence, something you took great pride in.

Stolas supported this with gusto, loving your independence as well as adoring the simple assurance you weren't just with him for the money and status.

It all spawned from when he'd asked you to preform a simple chore, something he'd normally do but had a packed schedule, so asked you to do it.

But of course, with your own busy schedule, you'd forgotten, the task going undone the entire day.

Coming home Stolas would snap at you, having endured a particularly stressful day, only for you to snap back.

You'd break into a heated argument, the both of you picking at every petty thing about each other you could.

Snapping at each other for the sort of things you'd never think to bring up before, but in that moment the both of you were just looking for things to get mad about.

But it'd be after Stolas made a remark, a shallow, but derogatory remark on your status as a Hellborne.

And that, well, that gave you something to genuinely be mad about.

You'd snap back at him, bringing up a moment of vitriolic anger, genuinely hurtful information, the sort you'd never have brought up otherwise.

Stolas, completely shocked by such a vicious outbreak, would snap.

Not mentally, but physically.

He didn't even realise what had happened until he looked down, seeing you holding your cheek, staring up at him in horror.

Cold dread filling him, his stomach dropping as he realised what had happened, the man stumbling back, horrified with himself.

"I... I..." He tried to speak but failed, unable to say anything.

You'd turn away, breathing shaky as you struggled to keep yourself composed.

Stolas would reach out to you, hoping to fix the situation. To prove he hadn't meant it.

If you pulled away, the man would break down, apologising profusely, the Owl in an exceptionally fragile state, apologising again and again, having a full breakdown as he begged you for forgiveness.

Your relationship would suffer heavily, but could heal depending on how willing you were, the man profusely apologetic, promising that'd never happen again, terrified he'd be a monster like Stella was to him.

If instead you allowed him to embrace you, he'd pull you close, crying profusely as you held each other, accepting what had happened and your mutual role in it.

You'd end up in his arms, the man holding you to his chest fluff, your favourite spot, the two of you just sat there for hours, holding each other close.

Yous talk softly, both of you apologising, but Stolas practically begging for forgiveness.

He'd feel awful for bringing a physical element to your relationship.

Not that you didn't already get physical, 17 broken bed frames in 9 months proved you got plenty physical, but becoming physically abusive was literally the very last thing he EVER wanted, especially for his partner.

It would take some time, the two of you spending countless hours holding each other close, talking through your issues countless times.

It'd be after stolas would apologise for the hundredth time, you cupping his face and telling him gently you forgave him, that your relationship would really begin to heal.

Stolas would be on edge for a while, going above and beyond for you, ensuring you knew exactly how much he loved you, being extra careful to be as un-intimidating as physically possible.

But your relationship would heal, you loving the owl boi and him loving you, the two of you handling and moving past the bump in your relationship in a surprisingly healthy fashion, the man only loving you even more by the end of it.

Millie

Now, Millie was an interesting contradiction.

On one hand, violence was natural for the girl. Growing up on Wrath It was necessary, becoming second nature for the Imp'et, but despite this she was also exceptionally good at keeping her cool.

She'd only get violent when necessary, and usually in your defence more than anything.

But it'd be some massive fight, the two of you really going at it, that her Wrathern side would kick in.

The girl shoved you.

And this is Millie, so a 'shove' actually meant she pretty much threw you across the room.

Millie covered her mouth as you slumped against the wall, groaning as you got up.

Millie would move to you, rushing to your side, doing her best to care for you, your arm being injured in the crash.

Getting up Millie would attempt to help you, clearly distraught, trying to assure you she was sorry.

If you pulled away from Millie, the farm girl would be totally distraught.

Never had she had to fear her body nor her killer instincts before, in fact, you loved her body, and the way she was usually the most deadly person in the room, hoo boy, you adored it.

That was one of your favourite parts of her.

And not just for the sexual aspect, though there was plenty of that but for her sheet ability.

She was confident and had the physicality to back it up, which in and of itself, was insanely hot.

But, getting hit by her, even it it was unintentional, would drastically change your view of it all.

You'd stumble back, tears building in your eyes as you stared up at her.

Millie, covering her mouth, would feel horrified.

She'd never mean to hurt you. That's literally the last thing she'd ever wanted to do to you, at least not like this.

But sure enough, she'd hit you, her baser instincts kicking in, the girl striking on pure instinct.

She'd move to you, already apologising, trying to assure you.

You'd be emotional, adrenaline pumping hard as you made the choice.

She'd reach out for you, hoping to show she wasn't evil, that she was sorry and meant only the best for you.

If you pulled away, Millie would feel downright awful. She'd probably pull in herself, freaking out internally as she pulled back.

She'd be entirely distraught, the woman becoming horribly self concious, paranoid of her every action, fearful of if she could hurt you again.

She'd try to reach out to you, trying her very best to reach out to you, but unless you were willing to reconcile with her, seeing it from her side, she'd likely have a minor, though well maintained breakdown, the woman freaking out over the whole thing.

Your relationship could recover, but it'd take a lot of communication and understanding, the both of you working through the event and the subsequent issues in a slow, healthy manner.

If you instead leaned into her touch, the two of you would hold each other close.

Millie and you would sit there for a long while, sat there, speaking softly.

You'd go back and forth for a while, both of you apologising. Talking through the issues that led to the argument.

The next few weeks would be tender, you obviously hesitant whenever she got mad, or became physical, the girl noticing how you flinch or watch her warily, fearful of her body.

She hated that. You used to worship her body, and while it wasn't about her ego, she missed be able to be herself around you, it stinging all the more that she only had herself to blame.

As such she would make sure to smother you in positive affection, the girl near constantly hugging or holding you close, never too harshly but enough that you'd get used to her physic, learning to trust being in her arms again.

Her favourite act to simply have you on her lap, holding you close in her muscular, yet feminine form, the girl holding you possessively, gently kissing or whispering in your ear, purring sweet nothing's.

Your relationship would be damaged, absolutely, the whole thing becoming a scar on your relationship, and yet, with some mutual care and respect, you'd not only recover, but your relationship would grow stronger from the affair.

The both of you would acknowledging your part in the argument, promising each other to do better.

It'd take some time to get back to where you were before the incident. To truly trust and love each other like you had before, yet with an abundance of love an dcare for the the other, you'd grow an even stronger, more intimate bond, the two of you coming to truly love and trust each other, your relationship becoming unbreakable.

Loona

Your relationship with Loona would be... odd.

Both in good and bad ways.

You'd have a passionate, if immature relationship, loving each other deeply but struggling to express it properly, the both of you immature and unable to properly work through your emotions in the best ways.

Fights... weren't exactly common, but they weren't rare either, though in fairness, most of your fights were just petty squabbles that worked mostly as an excuse for amazing make up sex.

But well, Loona was a temperamental woman at heart, and well, that temper had a habit of flaring on a whim.

It'd be on a particularly off day, the girl just looking for a fight, but when it became clear you simply couldn't avoid or talk through this random bout of aggression, you'd let her pick the fight.

You'd go back and forth for a while, arguing and yelling at each other, though throughout it, it was clear your heart wasn't in it, you just going through the motions to let Loona let off some steam.

The problem was, Loona's was.

And it'd be after some sarcastic remarks that Loona would snap at you with a genuinely hurtful remark.

You snapping back with a slightly harsher retort, and that's when the actual fight began.

You'd quickly break into a screaming match, the both of you trying to shout down the other.

But after Loona made a snide comment on you, you'd snap back, insulting her just as harshly, if not worst, really twisting the blade as it were.

Loona, shocked you'd make such a comment, would jump at you.

Now, to be clear, you and Loona often got physical, when fighting or otherwise. But this was different then the usual rough housing you'd do.

This wasn't the teasing hands on stuff you'd done countless times before, the wrestling and headlocks she used to do to assert dominance.

No, this was an attack.

She snarled, the two launching across the room, crashing into the wall, you trying to get away only for her to hit you, something halfway between a slap and a punch.

But that was enough to leave you stunned, staring up at her as she raised her fist again.

She sat there, teeth bared, fist clenched, staring down at you as you stared up at her in horror.

Loona, breathing harshly, realised what what she'd just done, staring down at you as tears formed in your eyes.

You looked scared.

Scared of her.

She threw herself off of you, horrified realisation rocking her form, the feeling only growing worse as you moved away from her.

She'd sit there for a minute, processing everything that'd happened, analysing her part, then yours, then her part.

Tears would well in her eyes, the girl slowly getting to her feet.

She'd apologise through tears, hands shaking as she held back ugly sobs, the woman moving to you, pleading and apologising profusely.

She'd get so close she could almost touch you, pleading for you to believe she'd never mean to hurt you.

If you pulled away, Loona would have a full on breakdown, pleading, begging you to believe she never wanted to hurt you.

She'd likely sit there sobbing for a long time before getting up and running to the only person she could think of.

Blitzø.

Now, upon finding his sobbing daughter, he would naturally become enraged, the man wanting to track you down and neuter you.

But Loona would demand he shut up and sit down, the girl explaining what had happened.

Now Blitzø was no expert on relationships, Satan knows had more failed relationships then teeth, and knowing she'd hit you would really put him in the a pickle.

So, he'd pull in the best relationship he knows.

Millie and Moxxie.

Millie would immediately go into mumma bear mode.

She'd be firm, but fair with Loona, the woman acknowledging that she was in the wrong but not entirely one sided, as you had engaged, but ultimately she was at fault.

Striking your partner is never alright.

Mostly.

So, she'd take the initiative, reaching out to you on Loonas behalf.

Now, she wouldn't do all the work, not at all, but she'd open the doorway to reconciliation.

From there, it'd truly be in yours and Loonas hands, the both of having to decided if you could make it work.

But if instead you let her approach you, letting the girl hold onto you.

She'd sob, apologising profusely, apologising for everything, the girl latching onto you.

You sit there for a long time, loona having a good cry. But eventually she'd calm down, the girl apologising profusely for hitting you, for starting the argument. For being such a bitch.

You'd speak for a long, long time, talking over the argument, going over both your parts, acknowledging and apologising for your part in the fight, though loona was far more apologetic, the girl deeply ashamed for her part in it.

You'd set some new rules and boundaries, the two of you knowing you couldn't let something like that happen again, as such you'd both set a list of rules.

The most prominent of which being that when your frustrated or angry with each other, you'd text the other. From there you'd talk a little, likely call the other, then you'd meet, speaking it through.

It was a system you both adhered to religiously, the two of you communicating through text or phone often, discussing any and all issues you had.

Your relationship would be uneasy for a while afterwards, you still on edge, flinching when she was angry. Over all, this whole ordeal got the young hellhound to calm down, learning some much needed restraint, your mutual affection developing in a slow, constructive and healthy manner.

Vaggie

Now, Vaggies temper was actually one of the things you loved about her.

She was firy and passionate and took no shit from nobody, something you loved.

The problem with your relationship was that you loved to tease her, and that got her riled up the quickest.

Now, it was was always in good fun, usually just to get a rise, followed by some soft kisses and apologies.

It was always in good fun.

But, on that fateful day, you made the decision to tease her.

Vaggie, while not the biggest fan, normally didn't mind your teasing, but on that day, having dealt with both Charlie and Alastor, she was in no mood for your teasing.

So, when you prodded and teased, the girl warning you to stop.

You not taking her seriously would prod her again, Vaggie on her last nerve, would slap you, leaving you shocked.

Vaggie, realising what she'd done, would cover her mouth, horrified.

Now it would definitely be stiff for a moment, both of you realising what had happened.

After a moment Vaggie would apologise.

Now you could take this two ways.

You could walk off, Vaggie feeling awful for hitting you.

It would be up to you whether you forgave her.

If you instead stayed there, the both of you would stand there for a moment, the both of you tense before suddenly, a smile broke across your face, the both of you breaking into laughter, the two of you having a laugh.

Vaggie would step closer, gently touching your face, seeing how your cheek swelled in a hand shaped pattern.

She'd apologise, you taking her hand in yours, gently kissing the appendage, apologising as well.

You'd share an intimate little moment, acknowledging your mutual faults, before laughing it off, agreeing to move past that.

You'd hold her close, the two of you sharing a warm smile before a kiss, holding the short Queen close.

Stella

Now Stella... Didn't get violent.

At least not to you. You were her S/O after all.

But the woman was prone to outbursts, usually angry and especially during an argument, the woman able to go from zero to a hundred like it was nothing.

Granted, those fights usually ended in even more passionate fuckings, the two of you having am... unhealthy, yet passionate romance. Both of you aware of the fact yet neither wishing to really change it.

It'd be one night, the two of you at it again, scream and yelling, Stella throwing a pot at you, you mocking her for having shit aim.

Only for her throw herself at you, hitting you right across the face.

You'd both pause, you grabbing her arms, pinning her to the wall, the woman unable to escape your grip.

You'd hold her there, showing her who held the physical edge in your relationship.

Now, this was the first time Stella had actually struck you, as while your relationship wasn't exactly the healthiest, not many are in hell, but it was never downright abusive.

Now, you did have the option to walk away, this potentially becoming a vital role in the development of your relationship and be the catalyst to Stella genuinely changing her ways.

But let's be real, this is Stella were talking about, and you were with Stella, you knew thing about her, so that's not really gonna happen.

What would likely happen was sex.

Hot, passionate, and nasty sex, the two of you going again and again like a pair of Hellhounds in heat, you showing Stella who's the boss.

Youd make it clear that she wouldn't do that again, though with what happened last time she hit you, it was incredibly tempting.

But well, at the end of the day, Stella is Stella and with a sex life like yours, I doubt either of you would really wanna change it.

Husk

Alcohol.

Husk's Sinful mistress. A mistress you tolerated. For a while.

Now you liked a drink, Hell that was how you met. And with Husk, and Drink always became several.

And you had plenty of fun with Husk, both ina nd out of the sheets, but well, there was a limit.

You could barely communicate with the man in the later parts of the day, and with night the man became almost incoherent, not to mention how he reeked of an abandoned distillery at all hours of the day.

Granted, you'd spent plenty a night curled up with the man, Husk drunkenly adoring you, the Kitty cat curling up with you, acting very cat like as he reeked like a seedy bar.

Not that he'd ever admit such behaviour when sober.

But over time, you'd become more adamant that he start controlling his alcohol intake, and with this steady increase in your insistence, came a steady increase in fights.

You'd begin with a minor argument on his alcohol intake, it quickly growing into serious fights.

It'd be one night, you and Husk having plans, only for you to find him absolutely fucking sloshed.

You, sick of your S/O constantly being lost in the sauce, would start screaming.

You yelled at the cat demon, the man quickly yelling back.

You'd really get into it, yelling and screaming, going back and forth, the two of you screaming till your throats were sore.

But it'd be as you tried to snatch the bottle out of his hands, wanting him to pay you, ya know, his S/O, some attention.

And it'd be as he yanked the bottle back, that the man swung his arm back at you, smashing you in the face hit his big paw, knocking you to the floor.

Your face would sting, burning as tears stung your eyes, staring up at the cat.

Husk sobered up real quick as the man realised what he'd done.

There would be a long pause before you got up, sniffling to yourself before turning and walking away.

You'd end up sleeping in one of the other hotel's random rooms, you too emotional and frustrated to care which.

The next day you'd walk down stairs with a swollen cheek.

Husk would be waiting at his bar, the man thinking.

He'd been up most the morning, guzzling 2 pots of coffee to keep himself coherent, the cat waiting for you.

Seeing you enter the lobby, the man would jump up, asking, pleading with you to wait, to hear him out.

You'd pause, staring at the floor for several seconds.

If you just walked past him, ignoring his gaze, the man would be crushed. The cat finding himself torn between the bottle and his want to be with you, a desperate want for the familiar blur of intoxication.

He'd try, really hard to get better, to BE better, but with every refusal to engage he'd become more tightly wound, and unless you opened up, trying to work things out with him, he'd end up right where he began, but this time, it'd be all his fault.

If instead you turned, giving him a chance to speak, Husk wouldn't miss the chance.

He'd apologise, telling you he was painfully sorry. He wanted to change. He WOULD change, he just asked that you'd give him a chance.

You'd stand there for a while, but after a moment you turn to him.

You'd tell him he had one chance, if you saw him change, really change, you'd be willing to work it out.

Husk would agree, swearing he'd do his best to be the S/O you deserve.

Youd simply give him a soft smile, telling you hoped he would. You were rooting for him.

That being all the motivation he needed.

Husk really would do his best to go clean, unfortunately going absolutely cold Turkey wouldn't work, the man almost having a psychotic break at the lack of alcohol, and after finding him in such a state, you made a deal.

You'd ration out alcohol, a moderate amount each day, the man allowed to drink whenever he pleased in hopes it would diminish, if not help to ween him off of his alcohol dependency.

So, that's how it would go for the next several weeks. Husk drinking his daily allowance, working through willpower exercises and general hygiene care.

He'd also spend more time with you, and it'd be over the dates and the nights in that the man realised he barely knew you. The cat realising he'd really been an absent S/O.

The whole thing only solidifying his resolve to be better.

Over the next few months Husk's resolve would grow stronger, his willpower higher and most importantly, your relationship would become incredibly strong, the both of you coming to love each other deeply once more.

You'd never directly say it, but you forgave him for the smack, the man thanking you in his own way.

The two of you living a happy, mostly sober, existence with each other, happily in love and able to appreciate it.

Beezelbub

Fights with Bee would not be common, not at all, as despite her somewhat airheads nature, she was surprisingly mature, as well as able to read emotions well, so if you were ever in a mood she'd be on that like sexy was on her.

But well, we all have our off days.

And it'd be on a particularly off day that it'd go down.

Now, you understood that she was the Queen of Gluttony and a major foodie, the woman always eager to eat or drink something.

The problem was the drugs.

Now, dating her, you'd tasted just about every Sinful substance in Hell, but where as bee was happy to do mountains, you always tried to keep it at a healthy level, or well, healthy enough to not lose it, or developed any serious addictions, something Bee respected.

That night, in particular, Bee was on a real bender, the sort for the history books. If they have History books down here.

It'd be as she liquefied some powdered drug, mixing it into her drink, that you'd try to step in.

You'd ask her to slow down a little, not wanting her to freak out and demolish half the house.

Again.

Bee wouldn't like that, eagerly pulling you into join her, practically forcing the bottle down your throat.

That'd be when you snap at her, telling her that was enough.

You were all for fun and games, but this was too much. Every night?! You couldn't stand seeing her drugged out of her mind, not to mention the alcohol, woman barely able to speak coherently, let alone function as an S/O after her daily bender, even if she didn't suffer a hangover like everybody else.

Bee, while usually the kindest most understanding S/O you could ask for, but after a full night of drugs and drinking, she didn't take so well to you harshing the fucking vibe.

The two of you quickly getting into a screaming match, going back and forth, Bees palace empty by the end of it.

Bee would grow a few sizes, screaming at you, it being as you snap at her, telling her she clearly doesn't care for you as much as she does for her drugs.

The now massive Sin of Gluttony snarling, spinning around as she intended to yell about how much of a pain in the ass you were being.

However she she spun, he now Massive hand, slammed into you, launching you across the room.

Luckily for you both, you didn't hit anything, simply sliding across the palace' polished floors, but it would still hurt like a bitch, knocking the wind out of you.

Bee would shrink immediately, rushing to your side.

You were winded, struggling and whining as you tried to breath, in pain and deep discomfort, unable to do anything as she fussed over you.

Eventually you'd get your breath back, panting and wheezing, body sore from the smack.

Bee would be distraught, apologising profusely, the woman in hysterics, crying her eyes out as she tried to convince you she was telling the truth.

You could let her hold you close, allowing her to apologise, to help you recover.

If instead you pulled away, wheezing and struggling to your feet. Bee of course trying to help, you simply snapping, telling her she's done enough.

Your relationship would he frayed, Bee trying her absolute best to make it up to you, to be better and save your relationship.

If instead you let her hold you, letting the Sin care for you in your battered state, Bee would do everything she could, caring for you until you fully recovered, the woman apologising the whole way.

The two of you would take some much needed time together, talking and working through your issues.

It wouldn't be easy, you making sure she knew you didn't wanna control her, but you wanted to be with your S/O, and when she was higher than a kite every night, that became difficult.

While Bee would explain such indulgence was part of her being. It would be like holding back a laugh to not indulge in it.

It would take soem time but the two of you would come to understand each other on a much better level.

Asmodeus

Arguments and fights weren't really a thing for you and Ozzie.

Like, you'd get into tufts. Squabbles and arguments. But never quite a fight.

But this was different, the two of you getting into an argument.

You couldn't even remember what started it, but it was like you'd both been holding something in for months and it was finally let out.

You argued and yelled, going back and forth, arguing over nothing and yet, everything, neither of you willing to stand down.

It'd be as you screamed yet another profanity at the man, moving towards him to let him know just what you thought about him.

And it'd be as you reached the man, about to scream another explitive, that he'd suddenly spin about face, planning on tearing you a new one, only for a loud 'smack!' to ring out, the Sin freezing in place.

Raising his hand, he'd find it stinging ever so slightly, the man looking up to find you turned away, clutching yourself.

Ozzie, realising what had happened would try to reach out to you, trying to process what had happened.

He'd turn you around, finding you clutching your face, your right cheek already swelling.

Ozzie, lowering himself down would apologise, telling you he was so very sorry, assuring you he meant no harm, he'd never intentionally harm you.

You could pull away, leaving him as he pleaded with you to believe he was sorry, that he'd never mean to hurt you. Never!

This, as always, could be the event that makes or breaks your relationship. You could move away from him, still loving him but unable to truly forgive him hurting you, despite it being an accident, your relationship never healing.

Or, as he stood over you, you could let him care for youthe man pulling you to his massive chest, holding you tenderly as he whispered softly apologies, carrying you to your bed.

He'd curl up with you, checking your swollen face, apologising profusely as he tenderly cared for you.

Ozzie would apologise profusely, the two of you holding each other close, holding the other close for a long, long time.

You'd talk for a long time, softly apologising to the other, you nuzzling the man's neck, the Sin holding you in his powerful arms.

You'd spend some much needed quality time together, the silent, tense moment slowly giving way to a warmer mor intimate moment, the two of you quickly giggling and teasing each other, laughing at how ridiculous the whole fight had been.

It'd be as you shared a kiss, you straddling his chest as his powerful hands gripped your body.

It'd be as you parted, a Web of spittle still connecting you that you'd grin, grabbing his collar as you purred out that you kinda liked it.

Ozzie, snapping out of his schoolboy blush, would grin, the man pouncing on you, the two of you making passionate, wild love all night long.

Congratulations everyone! We've reached 3,500 followers!!!

So, as promised I give you a brand spanking new headcanon, I hope you all enjoy it and I hope you had a fan-freaking-tastic holiday season.

I love each and every one of you and wish you the very best, bye bye.

[mommyslittlebird]

What the Body Wants

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

Summary: Now that you’ve decided to stay home for good, Wanda decides to take a step further into her role as your mama. The side effects bring out parts of her you’ve never seen.

CW: Stepmom/stepdaughter, induced lactation, breeding, cum strap, ovulation, light choking, W wants a baby, R is lowkey a bad fuck, R is confused but enthusiastic

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: Writer is also confused but enthusiastic. I’m not entirely sure I did this right but I like how it turned out and I really loved the premise. I hope this lives up to the hype/the rest of the series!

Part 5 of Her Special Girl

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Coming home actually turned out to be a bit of a better deal than you expected. You’d half prepared to be regretting your decision by now, longing for the dorm life and solitude that moving away had given you. But, in reality, that college had never really given what you had hoped it would, so it didn’t feel like you were leaving anything behind.

Home life had also improved in the years you went away. A new custody agreement between Wanda and her ex-husband meant the boys were gone every other week, and they had grown up enough to not be riding Wanda’s coattails like they had been when you left. Your father was still deadweight, but he fell asleep early and stayed at work late, so even he was only an issue on occasion.

Even though it was only a 15 minute drive to campus, you adjusted your schedule to only have in-person classes on Tuesday and Thursday so you didn’t have to go everyday. So you spent most days in the bay window of Wanda’s office with your laptop and a lap desk, silently working on classwork while she sat at her computer.

Since you’d decided to stay home 2 weeks ago, Wanda had started the process of induced lactation, a thing the two of you had discussed in the past. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by the process. She would sit down on the couch or in bed, and spend around ten minutes with the funny looking devices hooked up to her chest. She still had an electric pump from when she had the twins, and you love to watch in awe as the clear plastic methodically massaged your mama’s nipples. She’d simply be reading a book or watching TV, but your eyes never left her chest.

If you asked nicely, she would let you help her use the manual pump. It never failed to amuse her how seriously you took this task. You would straddle her lap, furrowing your brow and sticking out your tongue slightly in intense focus. You always made sure the cup was placed perfectly, and you watched her face to gauge her reaction as you started to squeeze the pump. You were so receptive to anything she told you, whether you needed to squeeze it a little bit more, or if you’d gone too far. You always felt so honored to be allowed to take part in the process.

Your favorite, though, was when she invited you to join. She always insisted that the best form of stimulation was your suckling. She would lay you across her lap, running her hands through your hair, telling you that you did it better than the machines ever could. You spent 10, sometimes even 20 minutes on each side longing to draw out the process for as long as possible. Occasionally, she’d let you suckle on one side while she hooked up the electric pump to the other. She seemed to get extra stimulated on those days, hardly able to sit still even with your full weight in her lap.

On this particular afternoon, the two of you were curled up on the couch watching one of Wanda's favorite movies. You thought it was a little boring, but you weren’t going to complain while you curled up in her lap, securely wrapped in a soft blanket. The boys were at their dad’s house, your dad was at work and wouldn’t be home for several hours, and Wanda didn’t have any meetings this afternoon, so you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

You wiggled around a little, trying to get comfortable, and you accidentally pushed your shoulder into Wanda’s chest.

She winced and sucked on her teeth. “Careful baby,” she whispered. “Mama’s a little sore.”

“Sorry, mama,” you apologized, turning to face her while carefully avoiding hitting her again. She took her breast in her hand, gently massaging it to ease the tension. You could see through gritted teeth how sore she was. You wanted to help her in any way possible. “Do you need a massage?” You asked innocently.

She perked up a little bit, intrigued by the offer. “Do you wanna give mama’s breast a gentle little massage?”

You nodded, and she slipped her shirt off over her head, revealing her chest. You could’ve sworn it was growing, though not so much she couldn’t hide it with baggy clothes. She took your hand in hers and slowly raised it to her breast. She could see you were nervous. You didn’t want to hurt her.

“It’s okay baby,” she reassured you. “You aren’t gonna hurt mama.”

You bit your lip, determined to do a good job and ease her pain. She was doing this for you, after all. You cautiously massaged the skin with your fingers, working your way carefully around her chest.

“Mmm,” Wanda hummed, throwing her head over the back of the couch. You could see her chewing the inside of her cheek, breathing shakily through her nose.

“Is this okay, mama?” you ask, concerned. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No, sweet girl,” she assured. “Don’t stop, just a tiny bit harder… ahh. You’re doing such a good job making sure your mama is all taken care of.”

“Mama?” you asked nervously.

“Yes, sweet girl?” she responded breathily.

“Is it hurting your body? To try and make milk for me?”

Wanda sat up straighter and cupped your soft, worried cheek. “Aww, sweetheart. You’re not hurting mama, baby. Mama is doing this because she wants to. And it doesn’t hurt so much as it’s just sensitive.” She stroked your cheekbone with her thumb, noticing how worried you still seemed to be. “Can mama tell you a secret baby?”

You nodded and leaned in, pressing your ear to her lips even though you were the only two people in the room.

Wanda dropped her voice to a whisper, playing along with your overly stealthy approach. “Mama’s body is reacting like this because all this pumping is making it want a baby.”

She took your hand, sliding it down her body and into the front of her pants. You nearly gasped as you felt through her thin underwear just how soaked she was. You pressed lightly into the wet patch, sliding two fingers up her slit through the fabric. She inhaled sharply, already grinding up against your hand. “It’s so sensitive, baby.”

She pulled back, gauging your reaction. There was a glint of recognition in your eyes. You were familiar with this sensation.

—----------

You stood in the doorway of her office, anxious and sweating. Your body felt it was on fire, tingling from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. You typically had a decently high sex drive, but you couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever felt this needy. It would have been easy enough to go to your room and masterbate, solve the problem on your own, but you wanted more. You wanted Wanda.

“Mama?”

Wanda turned her office chair to meet you. “Yes, sweet girl? What can I help you with?” She opened her arms, signaling you to come in.

You sat down in her lap and laid your head against her shoulder. She cradled the back of your head, stroking your hair softly with her thumb.

You hadn’t exactly planned to press your lips to her neck, to gently suck at the skin under her ear, but you were so hot, and her skin looked so soft, and you were so close, and she smelled so nice. And god, the taste, the sound you drew from her lips, the warmth of her skin. You needed her so badly. You slid your hand under the hem of her shirt, sliding your palm across her warm stomach.

“Sweetheart?” she said in a warning tone, using her hand to gently pull you from her neck. “What are you doing?”

She looked down, finding your eyes already glazed over with lust. You were hot to the touch, and just the simple tug of your hair pulled a low moan from your throat. “I need you, mama….”

She swallowed hard. It took a herculean amount of strength not to throw you over her desk and take you right there. If she hadn’t been a tad concerned that you had lost your mind, she would have. “Baby…” she asked. “What’s going on? Talk to mama.”

Your eyes looked into hers, pleading for more. Anything to take away the aching from between your legs. “It… I feel… It’s all so tingly. Everywhere. It… it hurts mama.” You were practically begging her to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless.

“Ahh,” she hummed in recognition. “It’s that time of the month, is it?”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What? No. My period was last week.”

“So your ovulation is this week,” she posited, smiling devilishly. “I’ll have to start keeping track of it, if it’s hitting you this hard.”

You groaned and buried your face into her shoulder while your hips bucked against her lap for any source of friction. You didn’t exactly know what ovulation was or what it had to do with you being so unbearably horny, but you weren’t exactly in the mood for an anatomy lesson.

Wanda kissed your head sympathetically and rubbed gentle circles on to the small of your back. “I’m so sorry, little love. Mama will take care of you in just a minute, just let me email Tasha and let her know I’m taking a long lunch.”

Thankfully, Wanda was true to her word, wrapping up her things rather quickly and carrying you to the bedroom. Your body hummed with electricity as she gently undressed you, making sure to egg you on with wet kisses and random hickies placed sporadically across your skin. You nearly jumped off the bed when she finally touched you, running a single digit up your folds and standing back to admire the results.

“Oh sweet girl, look at this,” she purred, holding her fingers in front of your face, covered in your excitement. As disinterested as you were in anything other than her hands and mouth on your body, you were admittedly a bit curious as to why it looked so different. What was usually a thin, clear liquid was now thick and white. She brought the fingers to your lips and you obediently took them into your mouth. “Do you know why it looks like that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, quietly moaning at your own taste.

She leaned forward, whispering into your ear. “It’s because your body wants mama to give you babies.”

Just the raspy way the words left her mouth sent your hips flying off the mattress in a jolt of arousal. She stilled them with her hands, moving to kneel between your legs.

You had always had a pretty strong preference for missionary. You like to wrap your arms around Wanda’s waist and bury your face in her neck to stifle any sounds that she pulled out of you. This time, however, Wanda grabbed your legs and pushed your knees to your chest, gripping your thighs just below the underside of your knee.

You whined, feeling too far away from her, but she bent forward and kissed your head. “Shshsh. It’s okay sweet girl. Mama’s got you.”

You almost wanted to protest, but as soon as the tip of the toy hit your skin, any objections melted away. It was bigger than the toys you typically used, but you were so soaked the first four inches still slid in with ease. Your body momentarily seized and you breathed out a straggled moan.

Wanda took it slow at first, leaning forward to kiss your face and whisper words of encouragement as she gently eased the toy deeper and deeper with each thrust. “That’s it. That’s my pretty girl,” she cooed. “You look so pretty stretched out around mama’s cock, baby. Does it feel good? Is this just what you needed from mama?”

“Uh huh,” you moaned, eyes already starting to roll backwards. Your face flushed red when you realized you had nothing to cover your mouth with, leaving you squeaking and whining uncontrollably with each thrust.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as Wanda bottomed out. You quickly realized the reason Wanda had you folded over like this: the strap could go impossibly deep, stretching you out in ways you’d never felt before. It was like she was kissing your womb with every stroke.

She groaned, slowly but firmly thrusting in as far as she could and holding it there before pulling back again. “Look at you, honey. Mama’s got you nice and ready. Are you gonna be a good girl for mama and let me give your body what it needs? Are you gonna let mama give you her babies?”

You bit down hard on your lip. You didn’t really understand what she was talking about. She couldn’t actually get you pregnant, but you did not care. You nodded eagerly, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “Mhm.”

“Say it for me. Tell me you want mama to fill you with her babies,” she commanded gently, continuing her slow and careful thrusts.

“I want… I want your babies mama. Please. Please mama I want you inside me forever,” you whined. Still you didn’t exactly understand what you were begging for, but the glare in her eyes told you that must have done the trick.

She leaned forward, pressing her whole body against yours and pinning you to the mattress. Your feet went up over her shoulders, keeping you trapped in the position even as her hands moved from your legs to the mattress. What had previously been slow, shallow strokes turned into faster, brutal thrusts. She pulled the toy nearly completely out of you before slamming it all the way back in. Her hips met yours in a merciless rhythm that left you shaking.

“Fuck! Mama… Mama!” You screamed, trying to reach out and grab her, but unable to get your hands out from under your legs. “Mama… I love you. I love you mama.”

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she said, nearly grunting with the intensity of her movement.

There was a shift that happened sometimes, when things got particularly intense between the two of you. It was like the slipping of a mask, but not in a scary or malicious way. Just Wanda so brutally intoxicated with you that she lost control. Her eyes narrowed and her face hardened. Her breaths came more as grunts than light moans. Her grip on you tightened into something more possessive and domineering. It never failed to drive you crazy.

“Fuck,” she growled, leaning back and moving her hand to your throat. “I’m gonna breed you. I’m going to keep filling you up until you can’t do anything but lay here and wait for me to come back and fill you up again. I’m gonna keep you leaking with my cum until this sweet little belly is all nice and swollen. Would you like that, angel? Do you want mama to keep you nice and full?”

“Yes mama!” you cried. “Please… please mama. Mama I’m gonna cum for you. Please cum inside of me mama. Please cum in…” you were cut short by an orgasm tearing through your body, leaving you speechless and dumb.

Wanda did not let up, continuing to chase her own pleasure. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t get out anymore than incoherent babbles. Wanda grabbed the vibrator she had given you earlier from your hand, turning it on and holding it to your clit. You writhed underneath her, jerking and spasming off the mattress, but she held you firmly in place.

Neither of you could do anymore than whimper or squeak. The only sound in the room was her hips hitting yours and the low thrum of the vibrator.

She let go of your throat, leaning forward again so she could kiss your face. “You're so beautiful, angel. And you feel so good on mama’s cock.” She turned up the setting on the vibrator, burying herself inside of you as deep as she could go. She could feel the vibrations against her own clit now. “Oh angel, mama’s gonna cum inside of you. Mama’s gonna fill you up and give your body everything it wants.” She squeezed the strap as she came, filling you with a warm, thick liquid unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Wanda slowly pulled out, and gently guided your legs down to a more natural and comfortable position.

You shuttered as you felt the liquid leak out of you and drip down the crack of your ass. You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Mama…” you whined. You were so exhausted you couldn’t do anything but turn your head to look at her.

“Yes, little love?” She said, leaning forward to gently wipe the stray hairs from your sweaty forehead.

“What was that?” You asked breathlessly. “Feels funny…”

“Mama just came inside of you, sweet girl,” she explained quietly, bending down to kiss your head.

“It’s so… warm,” you noted, rolling your head to the side. Your nose pinched uncomfortably as you felt the thick liquid dripping down onto the bed sheets.

Wanda reached her hand back down between your legs, collecting the cum on her fingers and pushing it back inside of you. You whined.

“Shshsh angel,” she cooed. “Mama’s just making sure you stay nice and full, sweetheart. You remember what we talked about, yes? That’s why you’ve been so needy for mama all afternoon. This is what your body wants.”

When she was satisfied, she discarded the strap and laid down behind you, putting her arms under yours and methodically rubbing your stomach. She imagined your stomach swelling with life you created together. What a beautiful display that would be, of your love for each other. She moved your hair aside so she could kiss the back of your neck and the spot up under your ears.

You laced your fingers in hers, resting them just below your navel. “Do you really have to go back to work, mama?” You couldn’t handle it if she left you in here alone, all sweaty and still leaking cum. Surely she would at least carry you to the bathroom, maybe run you a bath and get you cleaned up.

Wanda chuckled and kissed your shoulder blade. “I think Tasha can handle it on her own.” She pulled you closer, rubbing her cheek against your shoulder. She wasn’t exactly sure how she would explain this to her coworker in the morning, but she would be sure to start taking a day off around the same time every month.

—---------

“You want me to…” you asked nervously, but even the idea made your pupils dilate. You had never used that particular strap inside of her. She’d only ever used it on you. It was honestly still a mystery to you, how the thing worked.

Wanda bit her lip and nodded, pulling your hand from her pants. “I mean, only if you-”

“I do!” you interrupted.

She raised her brows and opened her mouth like she was getting ready to chastise you for interrupting, but when she saw the eager, innocent excitement in your eyes, she just sighed. “Okay angel. Let’s go up to your room.”

You practically jumped up off of the couch and raced upstairs, grabbing the strap and shedding your clothes before she could even make it up the stairs. She merely chuckled at your overeager behavior, casually stripping off her own clothes while you fiddled with the harness.

She sat down naked on the end of the bed, helping you secure it around your waist. She pulled at the straps you had already managed to get twisted and tangled, adjusting and tightening it to your body. “Is that too tight?”

You shook your head, waving your hips back and forth to make sure it was snug.

She led your hand to a bulge at the base of the toy. “Now when you’re ready, you’re gonna squeeze right here, okay?”

You nodded, feeling the unfamiliar shape with the pads of your fingers.

Wanda scooted backwards until her head hit the pillows. You followed, crawling on your knees until you were nestled comfortably between her legs.

You were always a little awkward, trying to get the toy in. Luckily Wanda was right there to help. She eased the tip in herself, biting her lip to contain a moan as she did so. “Okay now remember, just start nice and slow.”

You leaned over her, putting your hand against the mattress on either side of her. You stuck your tongue out slightly in concentration, trying to focus on finding a good movement. If you were being honest, you were never particularly good at this part either. But what you lacked in skill, you made up for in determination. You found a slow, and slightly awkward, but steady rhythm.

Wanda hummed delightedly, pulling you down against her. “Mmm… that’s it angel. Nice and slow. Give mama some time to adjust.”

As you continued your easy, slow ministrations, you found yourself being able to go deeper with each stroke. It was only a minute or two before you were all the way inside. If you weren’t actually trying to make her cum, you might just stay like that forever, deep inside of Wanda, feeling her body clench and pulse around you. It felt so natural. More natural to you than anything else in the world. Your bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

You took the opportunity to crane your neck downward and trace your tongue over her sensitive nipples. She gasped, squeezing her eyes closed and burying her hands in your hair. You sucked the hardened bud into your mouth and gently flicked it with the point of your tongue. Her body was taut like a bowstring, hardly moving under you aside from a few swallow gasps. You moved to the other side, gently circling the exposed one nipple with your fingertip while you did the same with your tongue on the other.

“Keep going, baby,” she panted, arching her chest up into you. She reached one of her hands down to play with her clit. “That feels so good. Mama is so sensitive for you. Mama’s body knows you’re her baby.”

You moaned at her words, your mouth and fingers doubling down. Her body shuttered and you felt her start to pulse around the strap. You felt a surge of warmth pool between her legs. You pulled your head up to look her in the eyes. “Did you just…”

She nodded and chuckled a little bit. “I told you I was sensitive.”

Your eyes went wide. You had never made her cum so fast. But a certain pride swelled up in your chest as you watched her body react to what you were doing. You gained a bit of confidence: enough to start rolling your hips in a steady motion against hers.

The smug chuckle immediately stopped as the strap started to scrap her sensitive walls. The toy was traced with vein-like bumps that scratched at that special spot inside of her. Her hands shot up and wrapped around your back, clawing gently at your shoulder blades and the length of your spine. “Ah!” she squeaked in pleasant surprise. You’d never quite taken initiative like this before. “Good girl. You're making mama feel so good. Keep going, just like that.”

She wrapped her legs around your waist, keeping your thrusts shallow and deep. “Oh god. I want to feel your cum inside of me, angel. You’re gonna make mama feel so full and happy. Tell me you want to cum inside me, sweet girl.”

“I wanna cum inside you mama. I wanna make you feel so full and… and happy. I’m gonna do such a good job for you mama. I promise,” you stammer. The sounds she was making were music to your ears. Her heels dug into your thighs in tandem with her nails on your back. She was everywhere, surrounding you in every way possible. You looked down between her legs, watching the strap slide in and out of her pussy. That was your cock inside of her.

Suddenly, as if it were some trick of your brain, you could feel it, warm and wet, drawing you in again and again. She wanted you to cum inside of her. You wanted to cum inside of her. You wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her slightly up off the mattress as you started to go faster. You buried your face into her neck, muffling your noises.

“Oh fuck,” Wanda panted, bury her hand in your hair. She cradled your head just over her shoulder. “Fuck… you would give me such beautiful babies.”

You whimpered and rutted into her so hard and fast she nearly hit her head on the headboard. She smiled breathlessly. Clearly she got you riled up.

“Did that make you happy? The idea of giving mama a baby?” She asked, turning her head so she was only inches away from your ear.

You whined and nodded, rutting into her again. This time she let out a deep, satisfied moan as she felt the tip of the toy kiss her cervix. “You want to put a baby inside of mama?”

You knew it wasn’t possible, of course. Wanda couldn’t have any more children, and even if she could you certainly couldn’t get her pregnant. Still, the idea tickled your brain in all the best ways. It would be a part of you inside of Wanda. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip. “Mhm.”

You wrapped yourself even tighter around her waist thrusting your hips into her with a new determination. “I wanna hear you say it baby…” she gasped. “Tell mama what you want.”

That was all she needed to say to get the dam to break. As soon as you open your mouth, the words flowed out of you in a flurry of desperation. “I want… I wanna fill you up mama. Please. Please, I need it. Please mama.” You were bucking into her like a virginal teenage boy, erratic and sloppy, like you could actually feel yourself inside of her. “You feel so good, mama.”

“I’m so full,” she breathed. She was so sensitive. You were hitting every spot inside of her while simultaneously laying on her aching chest. “Fuck, angel, you’re filling me up so good. Do you want to feel mama cum on your cock? Do you wanna make mama cum?”

“Yes. Please yes,” you begged, rolling your hips into hers. You sat up a little more, getting a better angle that allowed you to get even deeper inside of her. There was a surge of hunger that shot through you at the sight of her, absolutely beside herself with pleasure underneath you. You reduced her to this. You are the reason she feels so good. In a feeble attempt at dominance, you took her wrists in your hands and pinned them to the bed.

“Yes, baby. Hold mama down and make her take your babies,” she moaned.

You whimpered. You were far too small to even attempt to actually hold her down, but the sentiment still drove you both crazy. You buried the strap as deep as it would go, squeezing the base and releasing inside of her.

She arched up off the mattress, mouth fixed in a perfect “o” shape as she came around you.

You stayed like that for a second, buried inside her until she stopped shaking and collapsed back onto the bed. Slowly, you eased yourself out of her, watching your seed spill out of her. You hadn’t expected it, but there was a certain level of discontentment you felt, seeing your essence drip onto the mattress. You gathered what you could onto the tip of the toy and gently pushed it back in.

She groaned, exhausted and unable to move. You gently eased yourself down to lay on her chest, careful to avoid her tender breasts. You went limp on top of her, merging together in a boneless and sweaty pile of heavy breaths as you both tried to recover.

When she regained the ability to move, she scooted back to sit up against the pillows and moved to stroke your hair. The toy slowly fell out of her, and the warm remnants of your orgasm started to pool on the sheets below. After a long moment of lying lifelessly sprawled out on top of her, you heard her chuckle. You lifted your head to find her smiling down at you in an ecstatic giggle.

“What?” you asked, confused as if you had missed some joke.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy.” She craned her neck so she could see your face. She was grinning ear to ear. I was a true smile: one she couldn’t even repress if she tried.

“About what?” you asked, confused. Sex, even good sex, had never left her with such a cheery disposition before.

“Just…” she paused a minute, trying to figure out how to best phrase what she wanted to say. “My body is aching for a baby and then I look down and… you’re here.”

You smiled at that, feeling that you had filled some deep biological need within her just the same as she filled one in you. You looked at her swelling breasts, and you nosed at them in a silent question. She guided your head towards her nipple in a silent answer. Your lips wrapped delicately around the hardened bud, naturally massaging it with your tongue. Much to her dismay, there still wasn’t any milk, but there was a different type of magic to knowing there would be, eventually.

The two of you were working together to create a beautiful thing. It was a sort of tangible proof that her body was responding to you, claiming you as her own. Her breasts were growing for you. Filling with milk they made for you. Because she was your mama, and you were her baby.

[grandline-fics]

Hii! I was always thinking of you making one about Ace being hit by user that’s Devil fruit can turn people into kids and the reader is Ace’s partner and is trying to stop him from running around and almost burning the ship with his Devil fruit- 😭 and if you can add more context, that would be great :33 (I have nothing in mind at all,) that’s it rlly, ty!

DESCRIPTION: He gets turned into a younger version of himself

WARNINGS:  none, just fluff

CHARACTERS: Ace

WORDS: 1,113

A/N: Thank you for this cute request. I hope this is to your liking and what you were looking for. This is the first request/fic of 2025. Happy New Year everyone

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

The plan had been a simple one, you and your group would go to the island’s northern village and Ace would take the southern village. You both had your own set list of supplies and tasks to complete and it was meant to be an easy trek that would take half a day to complete. It was so easy you and the rest of the crew involved could accomplish it in your sleep and that kind of overconfidence was expected for you all. At the time you’d all considered that there was absolutely nothing that could go wrong and the routine trip would run smoothly. Quickly pressing a kiss to Ace’s lips you parted ways and headed to the village while Ace headed to the other.

As expected Ace and his group got to their village in no time at all, with it being closer to the Moby Dick and set about getting what was needed. On their way out of the village with loaded crates and sacks their attention was caught by one of the villagers announcing they’d found something that had to have been a Devil Fruit. Interested and already ahead of schedule, Ace and the others drew closer for a better look. Ace knew there were books about many of the Devil Fruits in the world and since he was already in possession of one, he had no need to know the others. 

He watched as the villager took a huge bite of the fruit and chuckled when they recoiled at the awful taste flooding his mouth. For Ace and the other Devil Fruit users in the group, they all felt a mix of sympathy and amusement. Unfortunately it was a rite of passage for everyone to experience the awful yet fully indescribable taste. The villager recoiled and staggered clumsily and out of instinct Ace being closest, put his hand out to steady the man. The second he did a strange feeling overcame him and he swayed, his vision clouding as his legs gave out. Vaguely he heard Izou calling his name as he fell unconscious.

As you and your group approached the Moby Dick you flinched at the sound of yelling getting that didn’t sound like the usual rowdy noise from your crew. This sounded almost panicked which made you, Marco and the others pick up the pace. As you climbed on board you were frozen at the sight of the crew spread out on the deck, crouched slightly and arms outstretched, ready to leap at their target that was darting around, ducking and dodging out of their reach. “Where did he get a pipe from?!”

“That's not the worry here! He’s little but he’s still him!” You blinked out of your shock to properly look at the young boy darting out Vista’s reach and swinging the aforementioned pipe in a bid to keep his pursuer back. It was Ace, a very young, very angry looking Ace. Your eyes widened, not sure how this even happened but you knew for certain that everyone was desperate to keep the boy version of your boyfriend on the ship, most likely for his own safety.

“You don’t mean-” Izou’s question was cut off when Ace took a swing with the pipe with a yell, an arc of bright flame streaking through the air with his attack. You all froze when the sight of the fire startled Ace more that the rest of you and he dropped his weapon. Quickly Marco leapt forward, taking advantage of Ace’s hesitation. His half-phoenix form activated and his talons latched onto Ace’s arms, lifting him off the ground, chucking as Ace began to thrash and try to kick out of the first division commander’s hold.

“Let. me. go! Stupid. pirates!” Ace ground out angrily. At least that fully confirmed for you all that it wasn't just his physical body that was affected, he didn’t know he was part of this crew of ‘stupid pirates.’ You didn't like seeing Ace distressed or so angry and finally made yourself move.

“Ace?” You asked softly, smiling at him in reassurance when Marco turned in the air to let the struggling version of his friend face you. Ace had been glaring up at Marco but turned his anger your way only to freeze when he saw your face. You smiled wider to see him no longer fighting against someone he’d trust with his very life and fix his attention solely on you. “You’re safe with us. We’re not going to hurt you okay?”

Had it come from anyone else, Ace probably wouldn’t have believed them especially with the fact one of these strangers currently had him hoisted in the air. For some reason he felt safe with you. Ace let out a huff and glared up at Marco who was suppressing the desperate urge to laugh at Ace’s immediate change in demeanour at your appearance.

“If I get Marco to let you go will you come with me to the kitchen?” You asked gently, knowing the surefire way to deal with Ace was food. “I’ll make you anything you want.” Your offer was a tempting one but you could see Ace held a little bit of defiance so you offered him one more addition. “You can bring the pipe?”

Twenty minutes later Ace was sitting on the counter of the kitchen, pipe in hand and watching you intently as you cooked for him, his stomach growling at the amazing smell. Already he was opening up and talking to you, even offering you a smile as he dropped his guard slightly. When the door opened and Thatch poked his head inside to ask if you needed help, Ace’s glare returned in full force and hardened at the man as he readied his pipe to attack. “Back!”

Thatch immediately held up his hands and laughed while backing out of the kitchen despite it being his domain. The cook retreated back to the deck to join the others, stating to everyone it was off limits.

For now though they just had to wait out for the effects of the ability to revert Ace back to normal and while they did, they were going to remember each and every little thing little Ace did around you to tease him about later. When you and your mini bodyguard reappeared with full stomachs and bright smiles, the crew began to laugh softly. Just like it had been when you both met for the first time, Ace’s infatuation with you was immediate and instinct to stay close and keep you to himself was strong and fierce and regardless of his age that was never going to change.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa@kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost

[cherie-doll]

Jello! so ive been reading a lot of your works this week, they are so good holy hell! I love the way you write CoD characters in a way that doesn't mischaracterize them.

So I was wondering if you could do COD men dealing with a reader who has awful adhd burnout?? After months of being visibly "hyper" and talkative they just shutdown and sometimes tend to lay in bed for days on end, even not being able to eat cause they get so down? Its not like they are lazy but its obvious they get extremely mentally and physically drained?

This is one of my first ever requests so if u dont wanna do this that's alright, u can ignore this lol. I hope ur having a great day or week :P

woahhh, thank you!! im rlly happy you enjoy my hcs and how i write characters, it takes me a while but i see the effort is worth it :D <33

=͟͟͞♡ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

COD Men w/ Reader who has adhd burnout

:‹ Price would one day come home to find the house a little messy; maybe some chores haven't been done or there's just silence. He walks in to find you lying in bed, the tv isn't on, no music or any signs of you occupying yourself with anything. It seems you aren't asleep either though. He doesn't directly ask you why you haven't done anything, instead he greets you like usual; in his tender, loving way. He presses a kiss against your temple as he gently murmurs a greeting. You startle a bit, not having noticed him there. You thought it was still early morning, not having taken note of how the day went by and you couldn't get started on anything. It's always been a little difficult but at least you had some sort of initiative, now, you feel like you can't even think of what to do first. But he doesn't pressure you, instead enveloping you in a comfort you can recharge in.

:‹ Simon had picked up on your recent feelings of being overwhelmed; you had a hard time thinking and couldn't even do tasks. He had become cautious; not needing to ask or pry to know he had to provide some support for you. Even more when he noticed you didn't stay up an extra hour to enjoy your favorite hobby and instead went straight to sleep. It felt like you couldn't get enough rest, the night would pass by quickly and still your mind felt foggy; unable to clear for the next day ahead. Simon knew any small change would feel like too much for you right now, you could barely handle your current schedule. You just needed to recharge a bit, and he completely understood that. While he preferred staying productive he wouldn't push that onto you, if anything he would take care of some things until you felt ready to help too.

:‹ Johnny isn't great at reading you. He does his best at picking up cues on your behavior, but it really is difficult if you're just closing your eyes, trying to breathe without letting your emotions get the upper hand again. You've withdrawn; only switching from laying in bed, covered in blankets to your little space where you usually enjoy your hobbies like drawing, writing or listening to music.. but even that feels like too much. You can't even think clearly. You're so tired and you wish to sleep, but your dreams are restless and you wake up. Johnny misses you when you close up like this, he loves hearing you talk and go on for hours on end about your day or whatever other topics you ricochet to and from. But he is caring and considerate. He won't push anything onto you, or ask too many questions that might disturb you. He knows you've always been a hard worker, so he'll let you rest for a long time. And he'll be waiting to hear your enthusiastic voice again when you're feeling better.

:‹ Kyle would gently encourage you to ask for help if you feel like you really need it. Of course, he wouldn't say it right away, he would give you time and try his best to be the supporting partner that you need him to be. Eventually, out of worry he'll try to get you to talk about it with him or someone else if that's what you are most comfortable with. When you do try to take on tasks or things you need to do, he makes sure you take breaks and time to relax again if you are starting to get overwhelmed. The last thing he'd want is for you to get restarted on the cycle and go back to being unable to do anything. Not because he dislikes seeing you do nothing but because he knows how you get when you can't do anything. You almost blame yourself for feeling like this, and he wishes you could talk to him more about it. But he does what he can in helping you. He just wants you to feel alright.

:‹ Roach isn't much to talk and prefers to just sit in silence and admire you with puppy eyes when you talk. Literally how y'all spent quality time together. Naturally, he'd be alarmed at the fact that you've completely quiet and won't speak. It's been more than 24 hours and you're still in bed, not really turning to look at him and just staring into space or trying to sleep. At first, he may think you're upset at him, perhaps he did something wrong. But then he takes notice of the fatigue in your eyes, how you can barely answer him when he softly asks a question. You don't want to be treating him like this, but it's just so hard to regulate and let alone express how you feel right now. You can barely begin to describe this feeling before being able to form a sentence. Thankfully, he isn't one to take things to heart too soon because he places your feelings over his. He can see it has nothing to do with him by the way you let him lie close to you. You will be fine for now like this since he's so understanding.

:‹ Alejandro may find it hard to understand or see things from your perspective. You were fine a couple days ago; why the sudden change? You've been in this repeating cycle that you can't break out of and it has you sick. You try doing things for him, try to get yourself together but nothing is working. You can barely function and he notices this, thinks something is deeply wrong as it disturbs him to see you like this. He's immediately dropping anything he was planning on doing or asking of you to instead find out what's wrong. You weren't planning on really telling him and just shrugging him off but he asked if you needed anything and you hesitated. He can ready you pretty well so he nodded, as if there was an exchange of words in that silence. He told you to take it easy and encouraged you to rely on him as much as you needed to. It was refreshing to feel that coming from him.

:‹ Rodolfo would require some self control to not go overboard on the caretaking. He already likes doing everything for you, but when you're unable to get anything done it can be overbearing to see him want to solve everything as soon as he can. Your attempts to push him away make him realize that he needs to take a different approach. Yes, your health is important but he also needs to know how you feel. He takes a moment to listen to you if you feel ready to express your feelings. He tries to help you figure out what exactly is causing you to feel drained, maybe it was something that happened recently that you've been thinking about too much. Perhaps you just needed some time to winddown after being focused for so long on certain tasks. He still continues to care for you but also steps back some if you need some space to breath.

:‹ Phillip is always praising you for how well you treat him, all you do for him and nod along to anything you say. But feeling like you've been lacking in a department you can't quite name have taken over instead. It's not anything he's said or done that have necessarily made you feel this way. There's been no motivation to fuel you or keep you from even doing what you love. Since you can't get anything done you feel down and Phillip has taken notice. He can be soft and gentle with you. He'll ask why you haven't done something and it might make you feel worse but it truly wasn't his intention. If you don't answer he'll be okay with that too. He doesn't require a reason from you. He's always wanted you to be happy and content; it's been his motivation since you've gotten together. Obviously, he'd be wanting to intervene if he notices you being visibly upset.

:‹ Makarov isn't always around as much as you'd like him to be. So, it can sometimes be very confusing to him to leave with you being very talkative and energetic to coming back and you're suddenly very quiet. He notices how low energy you are, and he worries thinking you might be sick. It's not often he gets to see you like this unless something is wrong so he's asking what happened, if you've come down with something and might even suggest going to the doctor. Since he's noticed your physical signs of burnout he takes those as indications that you're sick. He takes more notice and worry about your headaches and pain rather than the way you clench your jaw or your obvious anxious self. Don't get him wrong, he wants to help but may not know how to give it correctly.

:‹ Keegan is used to seeing you be up and about; here and there switching from one activity to another. So he's never worried about keeping you occupied while he's away or busy. But seeing you so still and unmotivated makes him feel disturbed. Like there's something wrong but he can't put a finger on it. His mind won't immediately go to different possibilities, instead he'll want to take some sort of action but first he'll assess the situation. It's obvious there's something more troubling than just fatigue gnawing at you. You seem tired mentally too. Poor guy has been there before but he won't compare to how you feel. He values your feelings so much more and he won't ever fully know how you feel or think but the best he can do is try, right? He'll be as patient as he can to try and understand. And it's the most effort anyone has ever made for you.

:‹ König would get so worried if he noticed you weren't eating or taking care of yourself. Like you're so tired, you feel spent and can't seem to get an ounce of energy from sleeping, so you don't even bother getting up to grab anything to eat. You've only drank from the half empty water cups and bottles on your nightstand which have probably started to accumulate dust by now. König doesn't know what to do with you. He tries showing you his phone, silently asking if you want to order some takeout but you shake your head. You probably won't finish it, and you feel like it's unfair to him. He's not much of a cook but he manages to make something simple and leave it at your bedside to see if you'll at least nibble on it. You think he's waiting for you to get up soon but he stays beside you, keeping you company. He just wants to make sure you don't sink deeper and be alone during this.

:‹ Horangi knows how certain things may be difficult for you to do but that's why you two have a routine curated for you. So when he notices you acting so unusual he goes to address it right away. It's not done with the intention to get you working right away but rather to keep your feelings in check, since he knows it's likely feelings that have been brewing for some time. You've had to put in double the work and effort to be the person you are today, and he knows it wouldn't be fair to disregard your feelings to label you as "lazy" just because you feel overwhelmed. Perhaps things have been unbalanced for some time and that is why you're like this. He'll readjust anything to your current needs to get you to feeling better in no time. Won't ever overload you with responsibilities if you don't feel ready yet. He's your partner for a reason; he doesn't mind.

:‹ Nikto assumed you were coming down with a cold or something. He's not the best at noticing things, if he slows down and cares enough to pay attention you'll find that he can be quite observative at times though. "You're not sick", he'll say standing at your bedside after you've skipped dinner again. You would at least reach out for the warm tea that he has offered, but you can't bring yourself to touch the mug and leave it to cool on the nightstand. He asks if you want to do something and you say you're not in the mood when usually you'd pounce at the opportunity to do anything with him. He can't help but feel a little wounded, but this is no time to wallow in his feelings when clearly you've got more of those than he does. He's not good enough with words to provide encouragement or give you a burst of energy through communication. But his silent attempts of aid should work with time.

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

[skeletonh0e]

May we get some romantic headcanons or headcanons you have in general for Killer, Dust and Nightmare?

Of course, the bad boys need some love. Gender neutral pre-usual and tw for toxicity, reminder none of the bad sans gang are the healthiest partners out there. It doesn't border into outright abusive territory but yeah

Killer Sans, Dust Sans & Nightmare Sans x Reader

Killer Sans:

This man is a shithead to everyone and that remains true especially when you're dating him

He's very flirty and constantly making dumb jokes, some are actually funny some are just annoying

It really do be just dating a normal Sans but worse sometimes

Weirdly clingy in a very obtuse way

Like he'll be gone for three days straight without a word to the point you half suspect he's DEAD but then you wake up one night to him literally CLINGING onto just staring like the creepy mofo he is

He wants attention now (don't question why he's covered in blood he wuuuuves you)

Very yandere-ish sometimes, he'll lowkey be stalking you and you might not even know unless he decides to reveal himself

Speaking of will kill for you, regardless of if you want him to or not, he's uh....very jealous and kind of violent if you haven't noticed

Kind of struggles with boundaries sometimes so you're gonna have to be firm about when certain things just aren't cool for you

He has his sweet side of course, he's all for praising you, he's extremely snuggly, and honestly he'll probably get you nearly anything you ask for

....might not be through the most legal of means but he will get it!

Also a PDA fiend so be careful

A big case of "does not know how to shut the fuck up" so there's plenty of teasing to be had and any arguments can easily escalate

Doesn't help that he clearly gets a kick out of annoying you

Never be afraid to return his energy though he likes some back and forth

Dust Sans:

This man? This man right here? A mess.

He don't even know how he got into this relationship and he don't even know why you want him

How does one....be a good boyfriend?

I can't stress how taken off guard he is by acts of affection, please be patient with him

Speaking of he does frequently suffer from hallucinations still so yeah patience and understanding is needed

He isn't as prone to violent outbursts as some of the other evil Sanses but that's not to say they don't ever happen and you'll need to be careful. You're not safe during these breakdowns

He'll feel fucking awful for hurting you and makeup for it somehow but yeah

Not good at expressing feelings verbally, acts of service are definitely his love language

Certain tasks and chores are just done for you, occasionally there'll be some take out in your kitchen from your favorite place or maybe an item you like in your bedroom

Have to ease into physical touch cuz again all this is new to him but once you both settle into a grove all for it

Tends to just....glomp onto you occasionally, either he's fucking tired or having a real bad day

Will also tug on your sleeve or clothes when he wants your attention

Its surprisingly cute given how intimating he generally is

Very protective, like dating any Sans gives you scary dog privileges but it's especially true in this case. He's just hovering over you and glaring at anyone that might pose a potential threat

Nightmare Sans:

Better than the other two though make no mistake he has his own issues

Honestly whether you're his friend, romantic partner or even just some person he knows...it's hard to get this guy to lighten up

And he's definitely very....controlling

Frequently tells you when and what to eat, what to wear, enforces a certain schedule and there's a certain vibe that he's not really asking

Cuz he isn't

He means well, he wants you to be healthy and protected which you are indeed protected. You are cared for. You'll never be lacking in anything and anyone that dares to challenge that is gonna suffer

Honestly he's very much a secret romantic at heart, his compliments are very sweet and endearing, dates are always surprisingly tranquil, and there's always a level of thoughtfulness toward all of it

Definitely likes pet names such as : beloved, dear, etc. Also just straight up calls you "mine" sometimes

Not big on PDA, generally keeps that stuff behind closed doors and even then he kinda doesn't like to be surprised by it

Prefers to initiate that stuff himself, but he's never going to say no when you do it but never hurts to ask first

Speaking of he has the worst habit of using his tentacles to just.....snatch his partners and walk away with them or haul them around

Sometimes he doesn't even seem to realize he's doing it and even if they don't like you up they tend to just idly wrap around you

[kazuhahalol]

— rendezvous 18.6y | five hargreeves x f!reader

— A space rendezvous is an orbital maneuver during which two spacecraft, one of which is often a space station, arrive at the same orbit and approach to a very close distance.

Five discovers that you’re his soulmate. The only problem is that he’s also discovered you only exist in another timeline.

TW: angst, death

masterlist

Five Hargreeves had no patience for this. The CIA wasn’t his ideal workplace. But it had its perks: they were more than willing to let him do things his way as long as they got results. And now, Derek, the shorter, perpetually frazzled assistant who had an unhealthy admiration for Five; was standing in front of him with a stack of paperwork, clearly expecting Five to care.

“Five, seriously, we’ve gotta fix this,” Derek whined, shifting on his feet nervously. His usually neat appearance was ruffled, hair slightly askew as his hands fidgeted with the papers, holding them a little too tightly. He looked like he was about to break into a nervous sweat.

Five, who stood at least six inches taller than Derek, rolled his eyes as he took in the sight of his assistant’s increasingly flustered demeanor. “What, you’re still worried about the training schedule?” he drawled. “Derek, the last time I checked, we weren’t in preschool.”

Derek was nothing if not persistent, though. “It’s not just the schedule! It’s the agents, Five. Their performance has been awful. If you don’t step in, they’re gonna—”

“—Be useless?” Five finished for him with an almost bored expression, leaning back in his chair as he kicked his feet up on the desk. “Let me guess. You want me to play ‘team leader’ and ‘mentor’ now. That it?”

Derek’s face flushed at the implication but he refused to back down. “I’m just saying, you’ve got the experience, okay? You know what you’re doing. You’re the only one who can actually fix this.”

Five stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The truth was, Five didn’t care about their internal CIA issues, least of all some rookie agents who couldn’t handle basic tasks. But Derek had this way about him—this desperate, wide-eyed expression that made it hard for Five to say no. He didn’t like the kid, not really, but Derek was one of the few who actually did his job without expecting recognition.

“Fine,” Five said after a long, drawn-out pause, making Derek’s face light up in relief. “I’ll look into it. But don’t expect me to hold their hands and sing Kumbaya.”

Derek smiled his usual shit-eating smile, almost too eagerly. “Thanks, Five. I knew you’d come through.”

Five let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

With that, he turned and headed for the exit, his steps firm and confident. Derek stood there for a moment, watching him go with that same smirk. Five didn’t acknowledge it. He didn’t want to or he’d get mad.

Five was already sick of the day, annoyed by Derek’s incessant requests. He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt like doing anything for the CIA beyond getting through the job. At this point, the only thing keeping him sane was the hope that he could at least catch a break. But the day was far from over.

He blinked and suddenly, he was somewhere else entirely.

Five stumbled a bit, his equilibrium off as he stood in an empty subway station, tiles cracked beneath his boots and flickering lights hanging above. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there, or even what had happened. His body still felt strange, sick, almost. But the biggest question on his mind was where the hell was he?

“What the hell…?” Five muttered to himself, scanning the abandoned station. The walls were stained and peeling, the space echoing in a way that felt off, but not immediately dangerous. There was a stain on the floor in the shape of Australia.

He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. His mind raced. Last night, he remembered taking shots with the Umbrellas, heading home, and hitting the sack. How could that have brought his powers back. Did coming in indirect contact with the marigold in the jar bring back his powers? That had to be it. The marigold was messing with his system, likely triggering his powers back into existence.

Well, Five didn’t know Ben spiked the drinks, so let’s give him a break.

Five spent the next several hours of his life trying to get out of this terrible subway. He was hopping on and off trains, going to different timelines, just trying to get back home.

On his umpteenth attempt, he lazily stepped off the platform. No sign of the stain shaped like Australia. Great.

Five grunted in frustration, but as he took another step forward, he felt a pull. Well, more like a yank. It wasn’t physical, but it was real. Like an invisible thread, guiding him forward. He froze, staring at the faintest red string flickering in his vision. It was so faint, so subtle, but it was there.

“What the hell…” Five said again, now fully on edge.

His thoughts scrambled. This had to be a mistake. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and the marigold surely wasn’t the cause of… whatever this was.

Without much more to think, Five started walking toward the string, curious. His instincts told him to follow it. The string led him down another dark and dirty corridor. He could hear the soft hum of something distant, a vibration that made him tense, but he didn’t stop. Not yet. However, the string continued down the dark hall of the subway tracks, and he was not about to step foot on them. But he knew he had to get out of here someway

“Guess I’m not getting out of here without figuring this out,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Just then, the same subway train pulled up, the voice speaking to him in a backward language he couldn’t understand. Five was exhausted and not feeling any less nauseous. Still, he couldn’t ignore the pull. The red string kept pulling, yanking itself towards its other host.

With an exhale, Five stepped onto the train, trying to ignore the odd sensation that coursed through him. It was a strange feeling, like stepping into something he couldn’t quite understand.

The train doors closed behind him with a clank, and Five was alone. He didn’t know where the train was taking him. But he figured that, with his powers back, the only way out of this situation was to see it through.

ᡣ𐭩

The train sped down endless tunnels, skipping across different realities. Five watched, his brow furrowed, as the landscape shifted around him, each stop revealing new worlds, new timelines, each one more strange and disconnected than the last. He didn’t know how or why it was happening, but he was helpless to stop it.

There were people. Familiar faces. Others he couldn’t quite place. Moments, too. Time itself felt warped, stretched beyond recognition. He saw places he recognized, but twisted and wrong. Things shifted constantly, and Five couldn’t help but feel the heavy weight of each reality’s imperfections.

The further the train went, the more frantic his thoughts became. He couldn’t keep hopping through these timelines forever. The red string tugged at him, guiding him forward. He needed to get back to his timeline. He needed to find his family.

But then, everything seemed to change. The train slowed, and before him, another station appeared. A glimpse of a new world, unfamiliar and yet somehow comforting. The red string kept yanking. He stepped out the train, looking for any sign of the Australia-shaped stain.

Nowhere to be seen.

He traverses the corridor until he reaches the stairs, climbing them until he’s met with the blinding sun. He navigates his way through the city, following wherever this red string is taking him. The buzz and sound of the city decreases as he reaches the more rural side. A small town, clean and quiet. Single family homes accompanied with apartments and townhouses. He stops at a single floor family home, staring straight at what his string was connected to.

You.

You were standing there, casually tying a ribbon around a patch of dahlias, the vibrant red flowers bright even in the dim light. You moved with a fluidity that made it impossible for Five to tear his eyes away.

The red string was there again, flickering, now more vivid than ever. It wound its way toward you, tugging with a force Five could no longer ignore.

“Dahlia’s, huh?” Five muttered to himself, barely above a whisper.

You looked up, sensing his presence. A soft, knowing smile appeared on your lips as you locked eyes with him. There was a sense of familiarity that struck him deep, like an anchor in the chaos that had followed him through the timelines.

The red string.

He was connected to you.

Five stood there, frozen in the soft light of the fading day, watching you work. The flickering red string still hummed in his vision, its pull relentless and undeniable. He couldn’t explain it, he had no idea what this was or how it worked, but there was something about you that felt…right. And as much as he hated to admit it, this quiet town felt oddly like home. It wasn’t like the chaos and destruction of his own reality, where nothing was ever really stable. Here, he could almost taste a sense of peace.

You were still working in the garden, tying a ribbon around a patch of dahlias, your movements graceful and easy. Five found himself staring for a little too long, caught in some quiet reverie, before he shook his head, snapping back to reality.

“Hey,” he said, walking toward you, his tone a little more dry than he intended. “You’re really into flowers, huh?”

You looked up, meeting his gaze with a warm smile, completely unfazed by his presence or the bluntness in his voice. You seemed to radiate calm, something Five had forgotten even existed.

“They’re my favorite,” you answered, your voice soft but strong. “They make everything a little brighter, you know?”

Five’s lips quirked at the edges, a slight chuckle escaping him. “Yeah, well, they certainly make your yard look like something out of a Pinterest board.”

You raised an eyebrow, the smile still there, though your eyes glinted with amusement. “You’ve been on Pinterest?” She asks, as if she believed he didn’t look like the type to.

“Who hasn’t?” He shrugged, but the sarcasm in his voice was gone, replaced by something a little less harsh. Something like…gratitude? Maybe.

You studied him for a moment, looking at his appearance which seemed a bit disheveled and exhausted, then nodded toward the house. “You need a place to stay, don’t you?”

Five didn’t hesitate. He had no reason to stay, no reason to linger. But something about this place, about you, made the idea of leaving feel foolish.

“I’m…lost,” he said, his voice a little softer than usual, though his tone remained steady. “So, yeah, a place to crash would be great.”

Your smile softened, and without a word, you motioned toward the house. “Well, you’re welcome to stay. I’ve got a spare room. It’s not much, but it’s quiet. And I could use the company.”

Five didn’t need any more encouragement. The string pulling him toward you only got stronger, and against his better judgment, he followed you inside. He didn’t say anything as you led him through the house, a small but cozy space that exuded a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages.

Days turned into weeks. The red string never wavered, but Five found himself growing comfortable in a way he hadn’t in years. He helped with small things around the house, things you hadn’t even known you needed help with. Fixing a leaky faucet. Setting up a new light fixture. Cooking dinner when you were too tired to bother. He did it all, all the while keeping his sarcastic and somewhat distant nature intact, even though, deep down, he knew he was slowly slipping. The edges of his carefully constructed walls were crumbling, piece by piece.

“You know,” you said one night as you both sat on the porch, watching the stars, “you’ve been here for a while now. I never really asked you… What exactly are you running from?”

Five didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the horizon, the weight of your question pressing down on him more than he’d like to admit. “Nothing,” he replied, his voice just a little too sharp. “Just needed a break.”

You tilted your head, sensing the lie in his words, but you didn’t push. You never did. You just let him be. And somehow, that was exactly what he needed.

ᡣ𐭩

Time passed in a blur of laughter, fleeting moments, and growing affection. Five found himself laughing with you. Something he hadn’t done in years. And, despite his best efforts to resist, he couldn’t deny it anymore: he was falling for you. Hard.

One evening, as you were both standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner, he turned to you, his gaze softer than usual.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice quiet. “For letting me stay. For…not asking too many questions.”

You smiled, that same quiet strength in your eyes. “I could say the same to you. You’ve made my life a lot easier, Five.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable, but then he shook his head, a hint of that familiar sarcasm creeping back into his voice.

“Yeah, well, I’m good at that.” He hesitated for a second, then added, “I never thought I’d find peace like this. Not in…well, not in any universe.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder, your touch gentle but firm. “It’s not about the universe, Five. It’s about where you are… and who you’re with.”

That one simple sentence hit him harder than anything else. He swallowed hard, looking away from you.

The truth was, Five knew something you didn’t. Something that kept him awake at night, that gnawed at him whenever he looked at you and saw the way your smile made everything feel like it would be okay.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t his timeline. And by staying, he was risking it all. Every time he thought about the red string, the connection, the weight of it all, he knew he had to leave. He had to go back.

But every time he thought about leaving you, it felt like his chest might crack open.

One night, after you’d both declared your love for each other, slowly, hesitantly, like both of you were afraid of what might happen if you fully admitted it—Five knew that it was time.

“I can’t stay,” he said one evening, his voice tight as he stood in the doorway.

You looked up from where you sat on the couch, your expression confused. “What are you talking about? Where are you going?”

Five stepped toward you, his heart breaking with every step. “This isn’t my timeline. And I’m not supposed to be here.”

Five’s eyes flickered with a hint of sorrow before he hardened his gaze, looking away as if the truth itself would tear him apart.

“I have to go back,” he said, his voice tight, colder than usual, but there was something in the way he said it that betrayed the lie. “I have to go back to my family.”

You stood there for a moment, completely still, trying to process his words. The weight of his departure settled over you, heavy and suffocating. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words seemed to get caught in your throat.

“Five… what do you mean? Why now?” You stepped forward, but he was already backing away, every movement deliberate as if he was trying to distance himself from you. “You’ve made a life here. With me.”

“I know,” he said quickly, voice tinged with regret. “I know. But it’s something I have to do. I can’t stay.”

You shook your head, a feeling of helplessness creeping into your chest. “Please… don’t go.”

The desperation in your voice made him hesitate, just for a moment, but he masked it with a quick, harsh breath. “I have no choice,” he said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

But you did understand. You understood more than he thought. It wasn’t just that he had to leave—it was that he wasn’t telling you the truth. You could feel it. The way he ached inside, how this wasn’t just about family or whatever excuse he was feeding you. It was something more, something bigger, but you couldn’t quite reach it.

“Five, please don’t do this,” you whispered, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. You reached for his hand, the warmth of your palm pressing against his cool, detached skin. “You don’t have to go. Not yet. I…” Your words faltered, the lump in your throat rising. “I need you here.”

He closed his eyes for a long moment, then let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze softened, though the distance between you remained. “I need to do this. For everyone. For the world.”

You frowned, unable to make sense of his words. “What do you mean?”

But before you could get an answer, he stepped back, and his lips twisted into a bitter smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “But I have to leave. You’ll be alright.”

And with that, he turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in the living room, heart heavy with confusion and sorrow.

Five never returned. After many failed attempts, he made his way back into his original timeline, a place where everything felt like it was falling apart, where the stakes were higher than he could ever explain. He had no time to dwell on what he was leaving behind, not when the fate of everything was at risk.

In his original timeline, the Umbrellas, his family, his true family, were preparing for their final mission. They had to make their sacrifice to correct the world’s path, to fix the timeline, to undo everything they had gone wrong.

And as he stood with them, ready to take his place in the grand scheme of things, Five knew there was no turning back. This was the end, and it had to be done. They all had to give up their lives, their existence, for the greater good. The world depended on it.

With one final look at his house around him, at the family he had loved more than anything, Five made his sacrifice. In that moment, the Umbrella Academy joined together one last time and ceased to exist, so did Five. Five was happy that he found love before he would pass on, even if she wouldn’t remember him. His very being dissolved, erasing him from the timeline, from everything.

ᡣ𐭩

Back in your timeline, you lived on. You continued with your life, growing older, feeling the passage of time like a slow, inevitable current. The world continued, with all its ups and downs, its joys and heartbreaks. But there was something missing, something you couldn’t place, a hole in your heart that never quite healed.

Years passed, and you found yourself in your garden again, standing among the flowers. The dahlias bloomed brightly, their red petals catching the sunlight. The tulips swayed gently in the breeze, a soft pink hue against the red. The flowers were a beautiful sight, one that had always brought you peace.

You smiled softly, a sense of warmth flooding through you, but there was an odd ache in your chest, a lingering sense of something long forgotten. As the years went by, you never stopped tending to your garden, not remembering the man that loved you more than he could ever love himself.

He ceased to exist, after all.

One day, you passed away quietly in your sleep, the world around you unchanged. The winter had just past and spring had sprung. The sun was shining, the children were playing, and in the brown soil of your yard sprouted a beautiful red dahlia and a single marigold, which you hadn’t planted before, only planting tulips and dahlias.

The dahlia and marigold sit in the spring sun in silence, a tiny red string connecting the two by their petals.

[reverie-starlight]

gn!ereader, no physical descriptions. FLUFFFFF!!! suna is worried about you suffocating/being a murder victim for like 2 seconds but it’s really not bad at all. reader has odd sleeping habits. I don’t like taking naps, but I imagine napping with suna would make it more enjoyable. extremely short drabble based on the position I woke up in this morning.

the one constant in this world, something suna rintarou can count on, even when everything else has been turned upside down, is you sleeping in outrageously uncomfortable (yet comical) positions everyday without fail.

he doesn’t know how you do it- he’s too much of a restless sleeper to knock out if the level of light is slightly different than what he’s used to, let alone while curled up uncomfortably.

but instead of trying to understand, he just takes on the task of moving you out of said positions as gently as possible.

he’s woken up to your arm in his face, your foot against the wall, halfway off the bed… he’s seen it all at this point, and today is no different.

now, suna’s chill about most things. he’s the calm to your chaos, the balancing factor to your anxious personality. he’s rational when you need it, which is most of the time… but when it comes to your safety, rationality goes out the window.

he comes home from practice to find you napping in your queen sized bed, arms above your head and a pillow laying over your face. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were a murder victim.

your chest is moving up and down, your fingers are twitching as you dream, but it’s not enough. he needs to see your eyes and hear your voice to settle the queasy feeling growing rapidly in his stomach.

he yanks the pillow off of your face, not even thinking about snapping a picture of this to add to his album of your strange sleeping habits, and gently guides your arms down to your sides. if he wasn’t beside himself with worry, he’d be in awe of how you never seem to lose circulation with your positions.

your eyes flutter open and his small sigh of relief is muffled by your sleepy whines. “rin? you’re home?”

he moves to hover on top of you when you weakly tug at him to lean in closer and flicks your forehead. “idiot, you scared me. the only reason I knew you were alive is because of your snoring.”

that wakes you up a bit more and you gape at him. “excuse me, I do not snore!”

he gives you a look that says are you sure about that?

of course you don’t snore, every higher power knew better than to disrupt my sleep schedule more than you already do, he thinks, but he’s only trying to cover his worry up now that he knows you’re okay. you seem to catch on anyway and wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry rinnie,” and he sighs at the nickname you only break out when you’re still sleepy and delirious. “thanks for caring about me.”

he kisses the very same spot he flicked earlier and then leaves a trail of them down to your nose, your cheeks, and finally your lips. “how many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me for that?”

you don’t respond and instead pull him even closer. “nap with me, baby. you legally have to since you interrupted mine, actually.”

he snorts at the irony. his complaints about your restlessness while sleeping are all in jest, of course. he’d never dream of trading in all your quirks for one second.

“fine,” he exaggerates a sigh and rolls over onto his back. he just knows that you’ll want to cuddle into him as if he’s really the teddy bear you insist he is.

“but only for twenty minutes, we still have to be active members of society and do some grocery shopping later.”

you ignore him and nuzzle your way under his arm as he sets an alarm on his phone, using the beat of his heart to lull you to sleep.

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

very short but I had to get the idea out. I have a longer atsumu fic coming soon, so stay tuned!

hope you enjoyed!!

tagging: @dira333 @emmyrosee @6okuto

[lovelynim]

Undivided attention

Love and Deepspace - Rafayel x Reader

A/N: Sorry for making you wait this much, @ppystkposts, and thank you for the patience! While this is more of an art trade than a comm, you were still an amazing client and I had a blast working on this piece for you!

Also, shout out and kudos to @/ticklygiggles for beta reading this monstrosity of a fic for me!

Summary: Something happened and made Rafayel upset at you. The problem? You don't even know what it is!

Word count: 5137 words

[Also on Ao3]

Friday, 6 p.m. 

You couldn’t recall the last time a shift took this long to end. Maybe you were just excited for this weekend - you had a lot planned, after all - but you couldn’t help but wonder if those boring reports were totally free of any guilt.

“I’m sooo tired,” Tara whined, standing by your side in the changing room. You giggled, opening your own locker while listening to her rambling. “If I see a single more wanderer, I swear!”

“Well, there could always be an emergency call,” you teased, holding back a chuckle when you heard Tara groan.

“Nooo, don’t say that!” She pouted, throwing you a deadly glare before continuing to change her clothes, “I need at least a week- no, a month without seeing those things after today!”

“Two days is the best captain Jenna can grant you. Take or leave it,” you smiled at her, but she had a good point there. A week off sounded like heaven right now. Still, who were you to refuse two days off work?

With your uniform carelessly tossed into a bag, you kept yourself busy buttoning up your shirt, looking down at that trail as one stubborn button refused to get into place.

Just as you were about to get it in, something else captured your attention and drove your eyes elsewhere.

“So, any plans for the weekend?” Tara hummed, breaking the silence. She sat on the bench behind you, changing her uniform skirt for some casual jeans. “It’s been a while since we went out together ~”

“I can’t,” you mumbled back, already lowering your head to focus on your previous task and starting from ground zero again. “Me and Raf-”

“Uuugh,” she interrupted, resting her elbows on her thighs and her head on her hands. She pouted, looking at you with a judgemental side-eye. “Guess the mr. perfect got to you before me, again.”

“Hey,” you snapped, finishing your shirt before turning to her with an arched eyebrow, “that wasn’t very nice of you.”

“You’re not being very nice either. What happened to ‘chicks before dic-’”

“Don’t you dare finish that!” You pointed at her, frowning.

“But ever since you two started dating we never hung together again!” Tara crossed her arms and stomped her feet, clearly upset with being demoted to the B-plan for your weekends. “We are barely friends at this point… I should just invite someone else for my super-awesome-weekend schedule.”

“Aw, Tara…” You cooed, dropping yourself on the bench right next to her. You placed your hand on her thigh, cocking your head to the side to try to get a look at her face. “But we are friends, Rafayel isn’t changing that.”

Tara promptly ignored your approach, turning her face away and letting a small ‘humph’ sound. “That’s not what it looks like.”

“It’s- it’s important for him this time, I swear!” You whined, shaking her leg a bit to emphasize your words. “You’re making a villain out of me, we were together the whole week!”

“We were working together the whole week, it’s different!”

It was like pushing against an immovable wall. An immovable, cold and extremely annoyed wall. Were you really that bad of a friend? Or was Tara just being extra dramatic this time? Some seconds went by as you gave it some thought and decided that you couldn’t let yourself be treated like this.

She wanted to ignore you? Well, you’d like to see her try, then.

“Taraaaa ~” You called for her again, almost singing her name this time. You lifted your palm from her thigh, letting the tip of your fingers brush against her leg and up to her waist. Her leg twitched as soon as you prodded at the spot near her hip. “Are you really mad at me? You’re not, right?”

“S-stop it! I’m nohot in the mood fohohor your stupihid games!”

She was quick to respond to your mischievous touch - as expected of a hunter, after all. Tara’s hand latched onto your wrist, promptly trying to dislodge your hand from her body. Her grip was strong, but it wouldn’t be your first time overpowering her in moments like this. “But I don’t want my best friend mad at me ~”

“Thehen you shohould be a behehetter friend! A-ahagh, enohough!” She giggled angrily, turning her body around to push you away with her other hand. She had that crooked, yet cute smile on her lips and you could only grin back at her. 

With her hand pressing against your cheek, you reached for her other side as well and quickly wiggled your fingers against it, dragging your nails over the clothed skin. “Taraaa ~ don’t be mad! Forgive me, please? I swear I’ll stop if you do!”

She let out a groan - or was it a squeal? Whatever it was, it was clearly a result of your efforts. “You dohOHon’t deseheherve my fohohorgiveness!” She hissed, even trying to bring her knees up and curl herself into a ball to escape from your apologetic tickles. Fruitless, of course.

Before you could take note of it, Tara had her back laid on the bench and you on top of her, straddling one of her legs while both your hands tickled her restlessly.

So far, she had already punched your arms at least five times and pushed your thrice. There were also two attempts to tickle you back, but she couldn’t keep her hands lifted for long enough to actually make it work. Tara was already laughing her heart out, but her anger seemed to have a better endurance than her this time.

“Come on, I’m going to be late at this rate!” You teased her, your thumbs drilling into her lower ribs, “if I take too long, Rafayel might ask me for another date!”

“ThehEHEhen gohoho kihihiss your duhuhumb bohOHOho- boyyfriehehend!” She snapped, her heel hitting the bench behind you and making the whole thing shake a little. You furrowed your brows, just how stubborn could she be? You already lost count of how many times you apologized!

Just as you were about to take some drastic, but much needed measures, someone else’s voice broke into the room’s chaos. It was gentle, but there was some lingering annoyance and arrogance on it, almost as if it carried some sort of superiority - or as if its owner believed so.

“Is now not a good time, ladies?” Rafayel mocked, leaning against a nearby wall and crossing his arms, stuck-up. He stared at the scene while you slid off Tara’s lap, making room for her to sit back up.

You and her exchanged looks, a mistake on your part as now you felt yourself being judged by both parties. Still, Tara seemed a bit more convinced. She rolled her eyes, giving you a soft smile. “Hi, Rafayel. We were just about to go out.”

“Oh, I could tell,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh of disbelief at Tara’s attempt of explaining the situation, “I assume you two just got distracted, then.”

“Heeeey,” you interrupted, getting yourself between them and walking towards Rafayel. You cornered him against the wall, giving that angry frown a kiss before looking up to him, “I’m sorry for leaving you waiting, ok? No need to get feisty.”

You stepped back, trying to see if the whole picture was looking any better after your attempt of making peace with the angry boyfriend. “I’m almost done changing, see? Just give me a moment and I’ll be outside, ‘kay?” You explained while you pushed him out of the room. Noticing how Rafayel made no effort to resist it, you assumed he wasn’t as mad anymore.

When you walked back into the changing room, Tara was already standing before her locker. She brushed her index finger over her lip, applying some balm on it. “I didn’t mean to make you two fight,” she muttered, shyly looking at you.

“Fight? Pfft, as if,” you shook your head, doing your hair and then slamming your locker’s door close. “We never fight, like- we are such a dream couple, you know?” She giggled, shaking her head. “I will make it up to you, ok? Lunch for a week, my treat!”

“Fine, I take it, then,” Tara nodded, hugging you goodbye before walking past you and towards the exit, “enjoy your weekend! And…” she stopped, looking at something outside the room before moving her eyes back to you, “good luck.” 

You raised your eyebrow, confused, but shrugged it off. There was no time to really worry about that now, was there?

As you walked outside, Rafayel was the first thing you spotted. “Did I make you wait for long?” You asked sweetly, trying to work your charms on him.

“You did,” he answered coldly, stubbornly refusing to take your hand for the first few tries before finally giving in. “I was about to drive back home without you.”

“I know you wouldn’t dare,” you teased him, giving him some of your affection by force. You wrapped your arms around his, letting Rafayel guide the way to the parking lot, “ohh, are you driving by yourself this time? Or is there a driver waiting for us?” You chirped with excitement, tugging at his arm while trying to get a look at his face.

The only thing you could see, however, was a frown. Thinking about it, he didn’t really say anything ever since you two left the main building - he wasn’t even holding you back! 

“Rafayel?” You called again once there was no response in a good while, “I'm talking to you,” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes. You could hear a sigh before Rafayel threw a glance over you, acknowledging your words but still refusing to answer your call.

He shook his arm off your grip, taking a few steps to increase the distance between you two. You were about to throw your purse at his head, but noticed how he turned around and got in the car by the door on the other side. Tsk, what’s with that attitude? “If you are going to treat me like that, I’m canceling our plans,” you threatened, almost as if infected by his annoyance after being exposed to it.

“Sorry, I’m just with something else in mind,” Rafayel replied shortly, drily, almost as if to fulfill some sort of protocol. He took the driver’s seat, fastening the seat belt and quickly getting his hands on the steering wheel.

You huffed, not believing his excuse. “And what is it, then?”

“...Forget it,” he mumbled, stepping on the gas pedal and looking at the mirrors and then around the car. Pretty much anything but you.

It was helpless, you thought, leaning back into your seat and resting your head on it. You felt the inertia hit you as he speeded out of the parking lot, entertaining yourself with the landscape changing outside the window.

You could hear the motor’s gears purring, his fingers fiddling with the wheel and AC blowing inside the car. It was just this quiet, after all. The kind of silence you could only hear around Rafayel when he was sad or angry - or both. Still, why?!

You were upset that you made him upset and even more that you couldn’t figure it out. 

Your mind went through all your important dates together - first kiss, anniversary, colleagues’ meetings - you didn’t miss a single one. 

You tried to think of details you could’ve missed - a new haircut, new clothes, a gift he bought for you, some picture he shared online and you forgot to like - but were any of those serious enough to make him mad? Or, better saying, to make him this mad?

You rested your chin on top of your hand, staring at some unknown distance. In the window, you could also see Rafayel’s reflection faintly, translucent. It was still clear enough, however, for you to see a pout on his lips. You stroked his image on the cheek with your index finger, feeling like the worst partner in the world for making him feel like that.

Before you could spiral into any other sad or worried thought, your body gently swung forward and then back into the seat. You blinked, taking notice of your surroundings again and having your eyes met with a familiar scenery: his home.

“What are you doing?” Rafayel asked, not as sweetly as you wished for. You looked up to the reflection, already spotting the features of confusion on his face that you’d meet as soon as you turned around.

“Distracting myself,” you mumbled, your hand leaving the window to reach for the seatbelt’s buckle, unlocking it and freeing yourself. “Nothing to worry abou- Rafayel?”

Now it was your turn to be confused at his actions. Your hand rested on top of the door handle, shaking it just to find that it was still locked. Rafayel stared at you, his lips quivering as if something was about to burst out of them.

But no, it didn’t.

“I… I forgot to unlock it, sorry,” he answered sheepishly, pressing a button near the steering wheel and making a firm, perceptive ‘click’ sound echo inside the car. “Let’s go,” he added, stepping out of the vehicle without looking back this time.

You sighed as soon as the sound of his door closing shut reached your ears, now being kept inside the car by something else other than a locked door: hesitation. 

It’s been at least half an hour since you clocked out of work and you still had no idea what you could possibly do to make up for him. You didn’t even know what you’re supposed to make up for, after all. Blindly apologizing would probably make things worse and, truth to be told, was there anything to apologize for?

You shook your head, taking one last breath to prepare yourself for what would be the start of a long weekend together. If you two made up tonight, you’d still have two days to enjoy each other’s company - you told yourself, trying to look at the brighter side and keep a positive view of this mess.

You lifted your chin from the moment you stepped out of the car to when you met him before his front door. Rafayel still had that blank, emotionless facade that seemed to work as a disguise for a frustrated one.

Silently, he looked down to his keys, opening the door and stepping aside to make way for you to walk in. The living room had that familiar mess that you grew accustomed to. Paintbrushes, canvas, paintings and sketches scattered around from the corner where he usually worked to the part “spared” for welcoming the guests. One would certainly be taken back by the sight - like you once did - but this was nothing but an everyday sight at this point.

“Did you start a new project?” You hummed, kneeling by some discarded pages and checking the sketches on them. As if trying to find a sense behind that mess, you started to tell some similarities between the drawings on each page, as if Rafayel was getting closer to a final product. “Is it a flower? Are you painting a bouquet this time?”

“Not really, just experimenting,” the answer came from the distance as he stopped by the door for a moment. You heard his footsteps approaching and then lifted your head to see him walk past you, straight to the couch on the other side of the large living room. “I don’t really want to talk about work right now…”

“Then let’s talk about something else,” you followed him, your eyes fixed on his figure, “like why you seem upset that I’m here.”

Rafayel looked at you with widened, worried eyes. It was probably the first time he did it in a good while, you thought. “What? Nonsense, why would I be upset at that?” He asked defensively, frowning at the accusation even. “I waited the whole week for this!”

“But that’s not what it looks like,” you retorted, further closing the distance between you two like a predator cornering its prey, “it feels like you’re avoiding me, like you’re spending time with me just because you need to, not because you want it,” you sighed, frustrated, “are you angry? Did I mess up?”

You could see him flinch, realisation over something you were still now aware of dawning on him. “...no, I’m not angry. It’s nothin-”

“Rafayel!” You groaned, sitting back up straight, “so you are ignoring me over nothing? Treating me like that just because?!”

“N-no! That’s not it!”

“Then what is it?!”

He froze in place, his mouth hanging agape like he was choking on the unsaid words. You could tell he was nearly opening up to you, but still stubbornly refusing to do so. “Then what is it, Rafayel?”

“N-nothing, forget it.” He insisted, averting his gaze. “I… I think I will go take a bath an- w-woah!”

“Nuh uh,” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down into the couch before he could stand on his feet again, “you’re not going anywhere until we solve this mess.”

“T-there is no mess to solve! It’s all right, ok? Let go!” He cried, shaking his arm, but your hand seemed to be glued to his wrist. You crawled closer to him, making him lean away in hesitation - or fear, one of those.

“I will let go if you tell me what’s wrong.” You weren't going to back down, not when you had him right there. You both were adults and both should know that talking things out is the best way to come to peace with them. “Speak, Rafayel.”

“I-I don’t wanna!” He hissed, already leaning on his side and probably considering the idea of kicking you off the couch. Well, no one can say you didn’t try to solve this like an adult. “H-hey, what are you- ahH!”

With a swift, quick move, you pushed the wrist inside your grip up and pinned it against the couch. Before he could squirm or run away, you straddled his thighs, using your own weight to keep them in place. A strong shade of red started to taint Rafayel’s skin - from his neck up to the tip of his ears - and he looked back and forth between your hand, your face and your body.

“W-what are you doing?!”

“Trying to solve our problems like a kid, since you don’t want to do it like adults do.”

Those words only started to make sense to Rafayel when you got into action. Your free hand quickly assaulted his exposed underarm with rapid, aimless tickles, scratching and tracing random shapes over the clothed skin. 

While you couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head, you could always count on how ticklish Rafayel was to get him to do what you wanted - most of the time, at least. You grinned down at his dumb, desperate smile while you shifted your attention to his ribs, your fingers drumming at them like they were some sort of instrument.

“S-StahAHAhahp ihihit!” He whined, arching his back and pressing his head into the couch. He swatted at your hand with his free one, but it wasn’t close to enough to make you stop. “Gehehet ohohoff me n-now! Or I wihill be vehery angr- aHAHA W-WAHAHaahait!! Nohohot thehEHEhere! PleHEHease! ~”

“Only if you want to talk about it, Rafayel,” you said with minimal-to-no-effort in making your words clear through the laughter echoing in his living room. Still, something about him whining under your fingers made you believe that the message was successfully delivered.

Seconds went by and Rafayel remained silent - silent as in not talking, because he was sure being loud. “Well, suit yourself,” you hummed teasingly, latching your hand onto his hip and letting your thumb drill into the sensitive spot.

Rafayel thrashed his head, his cheeks getting redder from a mix of laughter, anger and embarrassment. He squirmed and wriggled his body as much as he could, moving like a worm in a hook while you continued to pinch and squeeze his hip. “AhAHAHah, q-quihIhihit it, meheheanie!”

“Are you going to talk to me if I do?”

“I-I sahAHAhaid I don’t w-wahahanna tahAHAhalk!!”

“Then keep laughing, at least you’re not frowning at me like this,” you groaned, slapping that pesky hand that tried to protect him away and letting all your frustration out as a merciless, restless tickle assault.

You pressed down at his pinned wrist, making sure it wasn’t going anywhere, and raked your nails around Rafayel’s stomach, clawing just below the belly button, then spidering your fingers up and down his sides. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how weak his tugging at your arm was, drained of any strength to actually pry the assaulting hand away. He was struggling.

“I know you can’t take much more,” you teased, rapidly poking around his abdomen over and over, pinpointing one nerve at the other, “and so do you, right?”

“I-I hahAHahate yohohou!” He cried dramatically and, while part of you decided to tickle him to death and put him out of his misery, you opted for the peaceful approach and gave him another chance. “Y-yohou ahare t-the wohorst bodyguard! In t-the whole world!”

“And because of that you decided to mistreat me all day? Because I suck at being your bodyguard?” You scoffed, sitting back on his lap and crossing your arms.

But while this all seemed like a senseless and light matter to you now, your words acted like fuel to the fire inside him. You could see something inside him snap as he clenched his jaw, his breathing sharpening for a moment.

“No, you- you dumbhead! Because you do this to everyone!” He gasped, panting for a second before his lips turned into a pout. “I- I saw you with your- ugh, your coworker today. I  thought I was special, but I’m just another one to you…”

What.

You couldn’t even hold your pose as something beyond confusion struck your brain like thunder in a roaring storm. “I do… this to everyone..?” You repeated to yourself, trying to find some sense in those words. Did what, exactly?

You looked down, to him and then to your hands that were hanging near your body. Then it dawned on you: the reason behind his attitude, his anger. He was “...jealous? Because I… tickled my friend?” You muttered, your voice tainted with uncertainty.

Any doubts, however, vanished when you saw Rafayel’s face lighting up in red like a firework exploding in the sky. 

His lips quivered, trembled, and even as strangled noises made it past his throat, no actual words came out. He was stunned, baffled by your conclusion and, worse, by his own demands. Rafayel realized a tad too late what he had done, to what kind of thought he gave voice, and he couldn’t even start to think of a way to deal with the consequences.

While you, on the other hand, couldn’t tell what happened inside his head, his face told you everything you needed to know and more, like an open book just before your eyes. “Did I guess it right?” You broke the awkward silence and saw the moment a shiver ran up his spine like a wave crashing against the coast.

“N-no!” He cried, pawing at your legs while you let your weight sit on his lap. He kicked his feet behind you, throwing a little tantrum while rambling something about being misunderstood. “You g-got it totally wrong! I-It’s all wrong!”

“Is that so? Then what did you mean by that, then?” You grinned down at him, finally connecting all the pieces of a whole evening getting the silent treatment. To think he would feel jealous of Tara of all people - how amusing. “Are you saying I did something indecent with my coworker? Implying that I’m a chea-”

“That’s not it either, you- ugh, you’re such a thickhead at times!” He laid back, dramatically gasping and then pressing both hands over his face, almost as if to try to hide it. “How come you solve crimes and I still need to explain everything to you?”

“But you don’t,” you grabbed both his wrists, forcing them to the side and off your way. You towered over him, pinning his hands by the sides of his head staring straight into his eyes. “I have you figured out, Rafayel.”

“...You totally don’t,” he puffed out his cheeks, still trying to play it in denial.

“I totally do, though. My little fishie wants to be tickled, right?” You chuckled, letting go of one of his hands to trace his jawline with your index finger.

“Y-you’re wrong! Awfully wrong!” He gasped after leaving his mouth hanging for a second or two. You could see his muscles tensing, yearning, anticipating something. He pressed his lips into a thin line and clenched his hands into fists, keeping them still at where you left them.

Well… “heh,” you scoffed, your hands moving to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze as if to ease the tension, “don’t worry, I get it now.”

“You don’t get it at ahAH- AHaha, w-wahAHAIT!! I wahAHAhasn’t reheheady!” Rafayel laughed, he crumbled into a hot mess of giggles and squeals before he could even take notice of what you were doing or of what was happening around him.

You nestled your hands by the sides of his chest, digging and tickling each and every single one of his ribs as thoroughly as possible, playing with every inch of skin you couch told and milking every cackle out of his throat. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to do much”, you hummed, seeing him arch his back with a renewed fit of laughter as you switched to his sides, “just keep looking cute and laughing for me, yes?”

Rafayel whined, shaking his head left and right, but you couldn’t really hear a protest coming from his mouth, only that sweet, melodic laughter with a pinch of desperation. You smiled down, allowing him to hold onto your wrists while you tickled his stomach and hips, alternating between them from time to time.

You wiggled your fingers over the thin, delicate shirt and it was just enough to make him giggle; you pressed and poked one of the wrinkles caused by his squirming and he would flail his arms and legs; and when all this moving around riled up his shirt, you scratched the revealed skin, making the cutest sounds burst out of him.

He pulled at your hands, his shaky fingers closing around your wrists or around your palm in a vain attempt of being at least an obstacle in your way. Rafayel flashed you with a wide, panicked grin as he watched your hands sneak back under his arms before he threw his head back into the couch. You could see his chest waving, the deep gasps to let air fill his lungs before burning all that stored-up energy into cries full of mirth. What a sight to behold.

You couldn’t help but find yourself lost at the mesmerizing sight, intoxicated by his laughter, by the sound of his pleas, by the feeling of his hands clinging to you and the squirming of his body under you. 

His hair was already sticking to his forehead and some damp spots were starting to appear in his shirt - around his chest, shoulders, down to his sides and even some under his arm, where your hands would travel back from time to time to tickle him again. Rafayel was starting to look at a mess but, at the same time, this was the prettiest he ever looked to you.

“Stop fighting it,” you said playfully, as if he ever succeeded in putting up a battle against you, as if he ever stood a chance in your game, “you clearly won’t be able to take it if I have to tie you up.”

He whined again, but soon continued to laugh like a helpless idiot. Something about having him like this was mixing up the wires inside your brain, making the gears in your head turn rapidly. You knew you promised that you’d give it to him to his heart’s content, but if this went on for much longer, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop yourself.

Rafayel was just a pillow princess at this point. He laid back on the couch, holding onto your hands with just enough strength to pick up a sheet of paper, and let you do all the hard work while he laughed. He laughed, laughed and laughed even more. You wondered what could be going on inside his head or if there was anything happening in there at all.

But the one thing you did know was that… he looked happy. “Had enough yet, baby?” You sighed, watching the dazed, lost look on his face as if you had shut off his brain somehow. “Are you feeling ok?”

He giggled, wasted. It took him three to five business days to lower his head and look up at your face. Your hands rested on top of his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his hardworking heart that seemed to be just about to explode. Well, he certainly did look like he was doing fine, you thought. And so were you, after all, his heart was beating like that for you, because of you. 

You smiled, leaning closer and closer until the tip of your nose brushed against his. You nuzzled against his cheek before dragged your lips over Rafayel’s, kissing it briefly as you muttered your words. “I’m sorry, Rafayel, I think I now understand how you feel,” you gasped, kissing him again.

He let out a small, confused groan into your mouth. His hands weakly pushed at your shoulder while he turned his head to the side to try to dislodge out of your kiss and breathe again. He looked at you with the corner of his eyes, expectation gleaming inside them.

“I will only tickle you for now on, ok? You won’t have to share it with anyone else ever again, fishie,” you giggled, your face inches away from his before you leaned in again to steal another kiss.

“N-not… just tickling,” he gasped, his chin pressing down towards his chest as he looked at you with puppy-like eyes, “anything special… I want to be the only one to do those with you.”

“You have my word,” you nodded, laying your head on his shoulder and somehow getting your arms around him to pull Rafayel into a hug. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No… not anymore,” he chuckled, letting out a content sigh as his body was finally able to catch some rest. That would be the start of a long, but precious weekend.

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

SALVATORE

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•

-> tim drake blurb 🍵

-> tim drake has a crush on his favorite barista

life is forever busy for Tim , constantly juggling his ever pressing responsibilities of being Red Robin , school , completing cases for Bruce and helping run Wayne Enterprises- honestly his time for himself is so slim he often finds himself neglecting himself.

he's so accustomed to catering to everyone that when it comes to himself, he honestly doesn't know what to do - like does he take a nap and run the possibility that something happens when everyone needs himmost or does he skip on patrol tonight to watch that one series he's been wanting to for a while but then someone get's hurt covering for him?

overthinking about the endless possibilities makes him dizzy . he loves everyone too much to burden them with that even though Jason and Damian pisses him off to the point where he holds them all too dear . though no matter how busy his ever hectic schedule is he always makes time for coffee- always.

he doesn't care nor mind how clichè it is, but nothing beats the feeling of sipping a warm lattè on a cool evening or the smell of cinnamon and spice that seems to float around in the air everytime you open the doors to a cafè. there is no recreating that feeling of peace when you sit down and just watch the world move along and have that sense of peace .

today there was a new cafè opened not too far from his school and tim has to try it out . His mouth has been salvating since yesterday when he heard rumors of matcha roll cake with vanilla whipped cream in their menu . even now, his mouth is foaming as he approaches the small little shop tucked away between hustling apartments and shopping complexes.

tim pushes open the glass pane doors of the cafè and his nose is immediately hit with the scent of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee. wooden tables with dainty matching wooden chairs were spread out , a few latterns adorned the ceiling , giving the atmosphere a warm glow .

a huge wall was adorned with jars of presumably different coffees with country flags next to them , another adorned with welcoming and menu posters while others were filled with shrubbery.

it was so peaceful . Tom seated himself on a seat near a window and took it upon himself to scan through the menu . he was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed the pretty barista that came to his table .

"Good afternoon sir what can I get you ?"came a sweet yet gentle voice . Tim looked up from his menu towards the sound of the voice, and his eyes widened - in front of him was probably the most ethereal being and they were talking to him .

" Oh uhm - I would like a uhhhh chocolate lattè with a matcha roll cake, please," he called out his order , careful not to embarrass himself in front of this beautiful being . They gave him a small smile , " Alright I will get your order out in the next five minutes sir " .

Tim watched in pure awe as they walked away behind the counter and began watching them make his order . His faze fully fixated on the way their delicate hands maneuver around the coffee machine and they way they appear so elegant as they do the most basic tasks .

it wasn't before long they brought him his order and lord was tim red and shy . he politely thanked them, and they, in return, had to flash him their angelic smile, and he swore at that moment he felt like he was in heaven .

tim digged into his roll cake - the food practically melting so perfectly with his taste buds . tim takes a sip of his coffee as he peaks at them from the corner of his eye - god why are they so - so perfect ?

that day forward, cafès didn't only offer him peace of mind for him, but they also offered him a chance to be so close to them . of someone where to ask him right now if he had a crush, he'd immediately deny it, but anyone can tell by the way his cheeks redden and the fact he now literally visits this cafè every day that he is definitely helplessly crushing on his favorite barista.