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aclowntiny · 11 months

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A Date Like No Other- Basketball Player!Mingyu x Female!Reader (College AU)

Inspired by the famous tumblr post 😄 also I’m quite tempted to do a part 2 for this one if anyone is into that hehe

Word Count: 3600 | College AU, Basketball Player!Mingyu, Humor, Fluff | Warnings: drinking mentioned, one suggestive comment, one minor swear

He was the guy on campus everyone would have sold organs to go on a date with. The sports guy. The really tall guy. Handsome, plays on the school team, movie love interest guy.

You were the weird girl hardly anyone talked to, and you just liked him because he drew on your notes with you.

History was boring you- you’d already answered the questions and they read the pages out loud at a snail’s pace, sending your eyes diving into the pages lest you want to rip your hair out and coat your long thin institutional table in it. Saving that, you reached into your backpack and pulled out a green ultra fine marker, popping the cap. You reached over and doodled a frog sitting in his funny little amphibian hunch on one of the multitudinous papers strewn about the table before the guy sitting next to you glanced over, a huge smile spreading across his face before he suppressed laughter.

"I've been frogged!" That, of course, had him almost snorting in aborted amusement.

Wait...did that mean? "Oh, sorry, those were your notes, huh?" You asked in response, hand hitting your head lightly. "I got them mixed up, sorry for defacing your property. I can get you a new sheet if you were going to turn that in-"

"Nah," your neighbor, whose name was Mingyu if you remembered from roll call, held up a hand of both restraint and reassurance, "it's fine! I'm going to keep it. I love him. I think he needs a hat, though."

"Oh, I got it." This time, it was a brown marker you grabbed, quickly outlining and filling in a tiny cowboy hat for your creation. "There we go, how's that?"

This time, a full snort. "He looks handsome to me. What's his name?" Mingyu whispered as your professor drew a tad bit closer.

"Uh, Clint Eastwood?" You shrugged, having not exactly thought that far- in fact, not at all, the whole shindig starting at full zero thoughts, head empty.

"Well, I'll take him with me to every class I have," Mingyu replied, glancing fondly at the doodled frog before taking his pencil and drawing a fly between two pieces of bread, "and feed him, too."

At that, you exhaled a quietened laugh, smiling back as wide as he'd done.

"What? Wouldn't that be what a frog eats?"

You had to admit that it would be.

From that day on, you two added one or two things onto Clint Eastwood's page every class session. He had a top hat at the ready for dressing up, a little garden of flowers, a very badly drawn horse to ride, a soccer ball to play with, and a plate of the takeout Mingyu had just really wanted that day. You didn't even know what his major was. Maybe it was just sports. Could one go to school for simply basketball? Who knew? You guys didn't really talk, just drew and whispered and laughed about your froggy little world. Either way, to your simultaneous amusement and annoyance you found yourself really able to see the hype behind the legendary Kim Mingyu. For all the popularity, he was a good guy. And you know what, he was cute. But, like, heart cute. The face cute was just a bonus.

"Hey (y/n), do you ever go to any games? I've never seen you at one," Mingyu mused as you strode out of class, backpacks loose over your shoulders.

"Well," you paused, letting your expression be cut by a half-joking, half-serious wince, "no offense, but I'm not a huge sports person? So I haven't gone because I don't have anyone to go with and it hasn't seemed worth the money. Not because of the game, just because of how much they charge for the ticke-”

"Hey, don’t worry, I get it," he laughed, "well, my little sister could use someone to go with, and the ticket would be on me. I save on buying them for myself because, well, you know."

"You're too busy slamming dunks or whatever it is basketball players do," you supplied.

"Depends on your position," Mingyu just chucklef in response, pushing the big silvery-painted fire exit-esque handle of the history building's double doors open.

"Basketball has positions?" You burst out incredulously, squinting both in confusion and at the onslaught of sunlight assaulting your eyes as you emerged past the threshold.

Another laugh. "Come and find out."

The game was made more fun by knowing a player- it gave you something to care about as your eyes followed Mingyu's run along the smooth floors, the way he leapt to toss the ball to some guy just as tall or even taller than him. He really played with passion, passion and a clear sense of fun if his remarks on the court were any indication. His sister was pretty cool, too. She looked like a fashion model straight out of Seoul, but she was fun and sassy, not afraid to tease her big brother about the shot he missed when he ran up and greeted you at the sidelines or shoot a questioning look between you two as you told him to do it for Clint Eastwood, whom Mingyu replied was his good luck charm before shuffling back off on sneakers that squeaked against the floor.

Even though you didn't actually hang out with him the whole time, just at celebratory victory ice cream after, you came to history lecture the next session feeling closer to Mingyu, and he must have felt the same as he started talking to you instantly. You rarely initiated conversation, but always welcomed it.

He thanked you for coming to the game as if he hadn’t paid for it, then asked what your major was. You told him and bounced the question back. Turns out it was business, not sports. That history lecture was just GE you both had to get out of the way. The most interesting history lessons to you weren't generic national history or war maps, but all the odd sideline stuff like how some people believed huffing toilets might have helped them during the Black Plague.

"They what?" Mingyu asked, eyes widening and mouth agape as class commenced.

Maybe that was why people didn't really talk to you.

Such reflection was inaccurate, however, as you mindlessly doodled a ridiculous-looking bug-eyed dog on the now-shared note paper and Mingyu chuckled and gave it a collar, smiling when your glance upward met his eyes.

The moment you rose from your seat after lecture, notebook shoved back into your backpack and pencil case into one of the side water bottle holsters or whatever they were called, Mingyu started talking to you again, this time about how glad he was that he didn't join a fraternity like his teammate Johnny.

"Yeah, because see, this one guy just got so drunk he didn’t know where his car was and his girlfriend lost her nose ring, then another guy was sick and they threw him outside and he woke up in the cold locked out of the house, and the houses stink, too, like they smell so bad…”

"Yeah," you muttered, taking each of your bag straps in your hands this walk, palms sliding over the rough fabric, "dude, you couldn't pay me to live in one of those."

“…they’re practically taking after those Black Plague people!” He joked, bringing a smile to both your faces as he mimed taking a sniff, waving his hands in front of his nose and bursting into laughter.

“Except they should know better,” you added, shaking your head in amusement, “they need to get smart like you and I.”

He didn’t laugh, just nodded in approval. "Right? And everyone there has already hooked up with each other. I'm so tired of all that, too. That's not the kind of date I've been looking for, you know?”

In a sense, you did not know, being that none of your classmates had even hardly made conversation let alone a risqué pass, but you got it. Being as popular as Mingyu was, you’d seen how fellow students threw themselves at him sometimes. Had to get uncomfortable, especially if his facial expression at a few of them said anything. They weren’t usually very original, either, poor guy. He was just a clear end goal, and someone who loved his sister and his little drawings and celebrated with ice cream as often as cocktails and laughed at toilets didn’t deserve that. Mingyu wasn’t an ideal, he was a real person. Someone who just needed to have some damn fun for once.

“Sure. You need some- no, you deserve some- creativity. If it was up to me, I’d take you on a date like no other,” you joked, chuckling as your gaze rose back up to his eyes.

“You would?” At the sight of Mingyu’s eyes widening, you wondered if your phrasing had inadvertently crossed a line. Sure, you were totally willing, but- “Alright, just name a time.”

“Wait, really?” This time it was your turn to gape, one hand dropping off your backpack strap to fall to your side. Your heart picked up its pace. Never in a googolplex of years would you have thought Mr. It Boy K. Basketball would want a date with you. Being his friend was surprising enough.

“Yeah, of course. I think it’d be fun,” Mingyu beamed at you, “and I trust you. My sister likes you, too. If…if you really meant it, that is.” He added that last bit as his own gaze dropped and one hand reached up to rub the back of his neck.

Giggling shyly at his sudden sheepishness as well as the situation’s sheer absurdity, you tilted your head his way, smile melting back out of the shock. “Well, thanks, that actually…really means a lot. Get ready for an epic time, then!”

He cocked a brow, turning down between a row of potted trees toward the food court. “Have something in mind already?”

Actually, you did have something you always wanted to do if you could get someone else- it would look too weird to be the only one. Why not do it with Mingyu?

“Be afraid,” you nodded, smirking in satisfaction.

“Well then, how should I dress?”

“Just casual is fine,” you shrugged and teased, “we can’t all afford black tie, Mr. Business Major.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, still giving that wide smile you’d come to anticipate seeing, “Friday night?”

“Friday night,” you repeated.

“Get ready for Friday Night Showdown!”

“Um, (y/n), this is the grocery store.”

Your lips turned upward proudly as you rotated from a fist pump into a Vanna White pose before the mart. “I know.”

“Are we…” Mingyu paused, clearly searching for words. “Fighting in here or something?”

“We are not,” you replied cryptically, looking all the more satisfied as you passed between the automatic doors, Mingyu at your side.

“Am I doing your shopping?” He looked at you with still-raised eyebrows, though amusement colored his expression.

“That would be messed up!” You denied, shaking your head. “Though admittedly funny.”

“Don’t get any ideas for date two!”

Your heart flipped at Mingyu’s easy smile, how casually he said that…the way he flushed and looked away the moment the words left his mouth. He was already thinking of your next date? Hope he likes seafood, you internally joked.

“Yeah, no shopping tonight unless you wanted some snacks. Because tonight,” you skipped over all the central aisles of kitchen supplies, soap, and dry goods, making a beeline for the meat section… well, more specifically the fish counter, “is all about the face-off.”

In a split second you caught Mingyu’s eyes dart down once more past rows of cans, bottles, jars of just about every color you could ask for, dancing over their numerical markers as if to say farewell to actual shopping. Then, his gaze was back on you, your gestures, over your shoulder to the tank at the end of the fish counter. The tank full of lobsters with big claws and small patience. His eyes met yours again. He knew. You could see it.

You nodded. “Oh yeah. Pick your champion.”

He twisted his cap around backwards, revealing his face, those big, innocent brown eyes, once more. “Uh, quick question: how do you suggest I keep mine straight from the others?”

He was asking in earnest. That was another thing you liked about Mingyu: not only did he possess childlike wonder beyond what somebody in his age and station in life probably should, he was also a bad liar in the purest, kindest of senses. He really, truly, had never had a grocery store lobster beatdown date, and he couldn’t fake interest if he tried. So now he wanted tips, advice you could give him as if you had already had loads of grocery store lobster beatdown dates. All you could do was smile back at the tall basketball player and every small kindness he’d shown you thus far. The way he’d simply seen you.

“Good question. Don’t they have different colored wristbands?”

He arched a brow, clearly fighting a snicker. “Different what?”

Pantomiming a band with one hand grabbing the other, you stuttered. “You know, the… the claw restraints! The wristbands!”

“I don’t think they have wrists, (y/n),” Mingyu teased, reaching over and ruffling your hair.

Well, of course you realize this means war. “Alright, you are on,” was all you said, eyes narrowing.

He perked up at that. “What’s the bet?”

“Winner gets to pick the next activity,” you reply, sauntering a few steps closer to the lobster tank and pointing to one with a purple band over its claws that was clearly ready to throw- well, for lack of better terminology- hands, “and I choose this one.”

“Well, in that case,” Mingyu returned to your side, arm pressed against yours as he peered into the tank, “the logical choice would be to pick the one in red in front of yours. May the best crustacean win.”

And at that, his competitive stare melted back into that boyish look as he turned to you. “…did that sound cool?”

It almost came out as a snort, you burst out laughing so violently. “That was legendary,” was all you could wheeze out.

“Ha ha! I can’t believe it!” Mingyu grinned and bobbed up from his bent tank stare like an excited puppy, pumping the fist that wasn’t holding the mart beer can he’d bought as his lobster shoved yours away in victory.

The pair of crustaceans had been locked in claw-to-claw combat, tussling very slowly over nothing in particular but their proximal frustrations, and Mingyu’s had apparently vented harder, shoving yours back after some aggressive minutes. Mingyu had gotten into the fight, nudging you when something extra exciting happened and even providing commentary on sideline fights between sips.

First drawing a fly sandwich, then that. Truly, who'd've thunk?

“Neither can I," you mock-pouted, crossing your arms, "purple always wins."

"Says who?" Asked Mingyu, who leaned down closer to you, face mere inches from yours.

"Says me," you shrugged, feeling warmth spread across your face.

"Well, you know what?"

You could feel warmth of his breath ghosting faintly over your cheeks, your lips. "Wh- what?"

"As much as I enjoy a good bar," he leaned back a bit, clapping, "I did need something else. Something new. This was fun! Wanna go play basketball in the park? I bet we'll have the court to ourselves!"

There it was again. The reason everyone liked him. Movie love interest vibes, even beneath the oddly-tinted fluorescent lights of commerce. A smile like a boy on the body of a man. Probably not something they usually imagined to see over a lobster tank. Over hoops in the park, though? That tracked, even if it was a bit of a one-eighty from his breath fanning your face.

Beside any of that, he had won the right to choose.

"Sure," you smile, "let's keep your winning streak up."

And with a hand clasped around yours, that athletic strength was tugging you out the grocery store door to a rush of evening wind and the sound of mutual laughter.

Basketball really was that man’s passion. Just about the only thing about it you knew about the sport was what a slam dunk was, but what different shots scored different points? You wanted to throw a three-pointer, but what was a three-pointer?

You learned what it was, what an assist was, that elbowing was illegal or something like that because every game had a reason to send the players to sports jail like grown-up cops and robbers.

You got the ball in the basket twice with no help, and that was achievement enough. Mingyu had ran across the court to high-five you both times as if you’d just won him a game. When you messed up the angle of another throw, he got behind you and, trying your best to focus with his chest flush against your back, you tried again and sent the ball sailing without the betrayal of the previous throw’s dramatic arc.

“So can we give Clint Eastwood a basketball now too?” Mingyu asked out of the blue, dropping to the concrete at your side, legs crossing and knees brushing.

“What,” you chuckled, “do you have him with you or something?”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled a small white square out and unfolded it to reveal the piece of lined notebook paper with margins full of marker and pencil scratch, most notably your hatted frog friend. He kept those notes in his pocket?

With the one not holding Clint, he ran a hand through his short black hair. “I do like to have him with me,” he answered with a tentative smile.

You twisted slightly, feeling your spine pop from its prior exertion, and remembered his words from the basketball game as he’d visited your seat, making you laugh with a failed attempt at spinning the ball on his finger. “As a good luck charm?”

He shook his head. “I think we’ve added something almost every time we’ve been together. He’s like a log of all the memories we share.” With that, he scooched closer to your side, his jacket falling over the folds of your own clothes slightly. “And I like our memories, Frog Girl.”

What could you say to that? “Frog Girl?” You just giggled, eyes on his.

“That’s right,” Mingyu nodded, “I can’t believe I would never have talked to you if you hadn’t drawn a frog.”

“Ah, college,” you sighed, tilting your head, “the golden years, and yet it’s so easy to ignore everyone else.”

“Well, no longer,” Mingyu shot back, gaze honing in on…well, you weren’t sure, but you liked it, “I figured out what I want to do with my victory wish.”

You smiled at the phrase ‘victory wish’, a term that was just so him. “I thought that was this.” For emphasis, you waved a hand along the court, feeling the night breeze that much more on the skin of your palm.

“Nope,” he shook his head, smirking as his eyes fell back on yours, “I didn’t say I was using it then, I just asked if you wanted to come out here and you said yes."

Well, coat you in flour and call you a biscuit. "You evil genius, you." At that, you gave a grin and a shake of your own head, unable to resist feeling a bit impressed. Man plays games, he picks up some strategy. You'd have to remember that.

"I prefer to think of myself as a nice genius," Mingyu said, and then, switching tones completely, doing another one-eighty to one sweet enough to make your heart swell, he continued, "and about my wish: can I kiss you? I can't think of a better way to end Friday Night Showdown."

Deathly afraid of saying something stupid, you answered by shifting from your crossed legs, folding them to the side as you sat up, knee resting slightly on the edge of his leg as you pressed your lips to his. The slick of his sports jacket between your fingers felt cool as you gripped it to hold both yourself and Mingyu in place as he surged forward into you. For his speed, his eagerness, his kiss was surprisingly soft, not digging too deep but just firmly holding you, treasuring you as if the feeling of your lips was about to fade. Oh, buddy, I'm not going anywhere, you murmured in your head against the feeling of his ever-so-slightly chapped lips.

And as he pulled away, separation painfully slow, deliberate, Mingyu looked you dead in the eyes, blinked at the sudden return of hazy park streetlight, and said “Wow.”

You nodded. “Wow.” Can’t believe how well those lobsters worked, you wanted to say. "You're full of surprises, Mr. Basketball."

“Mr. Basketball,” he mused, gaze briefly drifting from yours, then back. “I wasn’t sure you were going to be that into me, being so funny and smart and artistic and stuff, but I just couldn’t help myself. And boy am I glad for that,” he grinned.

For that, all you could do was kiss him again.

No more hoops were shot that night, only words tossed out with new glee as you, now wrapped in Mingyu’s jacket, pointed out lesser-known constellations, like the Dutch giraffe one or the Poop Deck. After all, you had a reputation to keep up on that date, and everyone had already seen the Big Dipper.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x female reader #female reader #college au #humor #fluff #let me know if y'all are into part 2 I have Ideas™ lmao

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blo0dybimbobitch · 5 months

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Smoke tricks - Stoner/plug!reader x stoner!Choso

Content: mostly fluff, stoner!choso x stoner/plug!reader, college au, takes place somewhere in CA . You sell cho a half ounce and he invites you in to smoke.

Warning: MDNI, cannabis consumption, drinking, public drinking, groping, making out, grinding. 🔞

a/n: I found myself dreaming about selling a bag to Choso. This has been in my drafts literally for over a year, and I'm finally publishing my first JJK piece. This may turn into a series, but I don't know. Also, if anyone knows the artist for the Choso drawing, please let me know so I can give proper credits. Thank yuuuu. Wc:5~6k

Chapters: 1•2• next chapter

Sitting up, you double-check yourself in the rear view mirror before looking around for your customer. It's only been a couple of months since you started selling weed, and it was anything but serious. You only served people you knew personally, and today you were serving your crush from your 10am english class you sat behind on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He wasn't much of a talker the first few weeks in class, but after the teacher put you in a group together, you and him regularly spoke and exchanged notes, eventually exchanging numbers, for class purposes of course.

Your heart quickens as Choso emerges from his front door across the street in dark grey sweatpants, a baggy black long sleeve, and slides. His hair is down instead of being tied up in his regular spikey double bun style, which surprised you. He jogs over to the car, using his hand to comb his hair back out of his face as he opens the passenger door, and takes the seat next to you, "Hey, sorry for the wait." He turns to face you as he shuts the door behind him. He smiles as you reach for your backpack.

"All good," you smile, "You're gonna like what I got for you today, Choso." His eyes watch you dig through your backpack. "I got a quarter of this gorilla glue #4 and a quarter of this forbidden fruit. Both will slump you. I remember you tellin me in class you prefer indicas over sativas so I brought you two of my favorites." Handing Choso the jar of the forbidden fruit you watch him open it to smell and inspect the nugs, which are vibrant shades of purple and green. The black line over his nose scrunches as he inhales the dank aroma.

"This one smells so.. " he trails off and takes a second to think, "Purple?" he looks over at you and shrugs.

You smile, "Funny you say that because I thought the same thing when I first tried it."

"Really?" He chuckles softly, "I just can't think of any other way to describe it." His nose is back in the jar, and he closes his eyes, slightly resting his face on the rim, fully trying to submerge himself in the smell.

"Just wait until you try it," you reach for the other quarter in your bag. Opening the jar, you hand it over to Choso whose eyes widen in excitement.

"This one isn't called gorilla glue for no reason," a smirk graces your lips, "will literally glue you to the couch. Trust me when I say that."

"I believe you," he turns to pull his wallet out of his sweatpants pocket, "How much do you want for both quarters?" His tired eyes rest on yours.

"Hmmm, for you, Choso.." You pause, eyes drifting to his lips, rejecting the notion of ambiguity. In class, you tried your best to keep from flirting, but now that you're both here, in your car, at night, it was a different story, "I can do 70, total." Your eyes sparkle, and he tries to ignore his increasing heart rate. Choso never really made an effort to pursue any girl really, with all of his attention going to caring for all his siblings, finding a partner was just defaulted to the back burner.

"Well aren't you sweet, giving me a discount?" He smiles, handing you a crisp hundred dollar bill, trying to keep his cool, his eyes briefly glancing at your lips, "you can keep the change." You took the money and pulled out your wallet as Choso went back to examining the nugs.

"Are you sure? I have change." You look down at the bill and back at him.

"Don't worry about it." He smiles at your courtesy, the 2 Mason jars resting in his lap, "I want you to have it." You smile and blush, turning away to hide your red cheeks, putting the money in your wallet.

"So," He continued, before you could thank him, "I was planning on smoking some of this now since my siblings are all either asleep or in their rooms," He says, subtlety checking you out from the passenger side, admiring your profile, "if you'd be interested in joining me."

"I'm down to smoke," you say reaching for your water bottle to get a drink, the thought of you guys finally smoking together made you slightly nervous. The clock read 10:47pm and you remembered you both had class tomorrow at 10 am, "I shouldn't stay for long, though. Being up before 10 for class is tough for me sometimes."

He nods, understanding, "Stay for at least one joint." Imitating a puppy, he tilts his head to the side, "Besides, we always talk about smoking together in class. Now's a good time." Choso pushes his bottom lip out, pouting with raised eyebrows, while poking your arm playfully.

"Alright, one joint, maybe two." How could you not give in? The rain stopped, and the damp air chills your lungs as you step out of the car in tandem with Choso. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you follow him across the street to his front door. You're wearing your favorite pair of dark gray leggings with a black tank top under a big oversized dark green flannel you buttoned up, swimming in the fabric. Hair tossed up in a messy bun, fringe framing your face. You weren't expecting him to invite you to smoke after you sold him a bag, honestly.

He leads you inside, which is dimly lit but very clean and neat. You follow him through the darkness to his garage, and inside is a dark blue couch, coupled with a big folded blanket and a few pillows. In front of the couch is a coffee table, littered with a few books, pens, a purple grinder, and an ashtray.

Choso sets the jars on the coffee table and turns to toss a few pillows to the side on the couch, "Here get comfortable," you sit down as he hands you his purple grinder, "You wanna roll while I put something on?" He grabs the remote and sits next to you.

"I gotchu." You sit and set your bag down on the floor. Opening the jar of the gorilla glue, you begin to roll a joint for the two of you as he flicks through movies before finally settling on one he'd knew you'd like. Pineapple Express.

"Wow, you did that really fast," he continues watching as you pack the joint, then twist the end, "I'm impressed."

"I roll a lot. I'm what some would call a heavy user." You smile, looking for the lighter you could've sworn you had in your shirt pocket.

"Here," he sets his purple lighter on the table, "You can spark it, I'm gonna get us some popcorn before we start the movie," Choso rises and disappears into his house.

You sit and take in your surroundings. There was a bench press far behind the couch with weights next to it. There was a beat up looking skateboard tucked under the couch by your feet, and a pile of bikes, (probably his siblings’) gathered in a corner. Turning back to the TV, you spark the lighter, roasting the tip of the joint, waiting for Choso.

He returns with a bowl of popcorn and pauses by the light switch. "Is it okay if I turn this off?" He asks before sitting back down again, hesitating, waiting to make sure you're comfortable in the dark with him.

"Oh, yeah, this is fine," The TV and the cherry of the joint glimmer in the dark. He sits down next to you as the movie begins.

You bring the joint to your lips and inhale, taking the smoke deep within your lungs, making sure not to blow the smoke out directly into his face, "Mm, the flavor of this never gets old." You hit the joint one more time before passing it to Choso, who dusts off his hand on his leg before trading you the popcorn for the joint. The familiar smell of the smoke is now filling the room as the TV flickers in front of you two.

You watch him take his first hit, and he coughs after he exhales, "Damn, that's a hitter."

"Don't cough, don't get off," you say, giggling as you hand him your water bottle, which, to your surprise, he gladly takes a few sips from. The indirect kiss makes you blush a bit. 'I mean technically anytime he hits the joint, it's an indirect kiss,' you think to yourself, feeling a bit silly. It's been a while since you felt like this.

You take your shoes off and hug your knees to your chest on the couch, getting comfortable. Choso passes you the joint as the wind shakes the garage door, causing a chill to hit your spine.

"Are you cold?" Before you can answer, he pulls the blanket folded over the back of the couch and scoots to the center, his eyes trying to gauge if you're comfortable,"Is this okay?" His voice is soft and gentle.

You scoot towards him, in silent response, the smoke enveloping you in a haze, highlighted by the flicker from the TV, as the joint teeters on the edge of your smile, and Choso slightly panics to himself. He's never been this close to a girl before, but he feels safe around you. He settles his arm on the back of the couch as you nuzzle in and sink into his side under the blanket, the oncoming high, settling any nervousness you felt about the gesture.

"This is good. Thank you, Choso." You smile up at him before taking the joint out of your mouth and handing it back. He takes it, and his eyes lock onto yours, for a moment, and he realizes he is enjoying this new feeling of you so close to him. He feels something new begin to take root within his heart, as he feels you against him.

"O-of course," His voice is rough from coughing, causing your heart to flutter. He tries to keep his cool as he hits the joint and turns to watch the movie. You giggle, mostly because of the high, then scoot into him more, blushing at his closeness. He passes the joint back down to you. His arm, over your shoulder, now pulls you in closer, unable to fight the urge.

As you breathe in the smoke from the joint, you feel like you're sinking, as if the couch had its own gravitational pull, but it's a good familiar feeling. He leans in closer to you as you share the joint, the heat from both of your bodies mingling under the blanket while the garage shakes again from the wind. The two of you sheltered by the smoke, eyes red and faces smug as you laugh together watching the movie.

As you lean over towards the ashtray, the ash trail falls on the blanket, "Oh shit," you giggle, hitting the blanket from under to knock the ash on the floor, "My bad, didn't mean to ash on your blanket." At that moment, both of your phones let out a notification letting you know that class is canceled tomorrow.

"Hey, look at that." Choso leans down into you, "Professor canceled class. Guess that means you can stay for another joint?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks.

"Sounds fine to me, I'm too comfortable right now to move anyway." You pull the blanket up to your chin and smile, hitting the joint before passing it back to him.

"Good, because I have a bad case of the munchies right now and could really go for some takeout." He pinches the joint filter and hits the half smoked joint. Before you could say anything, your stomach rumbles, and Choso smiles, "Sounds like you are too. It'll be my treat since you brought me some gas tonight."

"Do you always treat your plug to dinner and a show?" You lick the resin off your lips, catching his gaze.

"Only when they're as cute as you are." The words fell out of his mouth before he could catch them, his anxiety totally settled by God's sweet gift of purple. After he hits the joint a few times, he passes it to you and takes out his phone, browsing what places are open late, trying to take his mind off of these new feelings welling within him, "What are you in the mood for?" His red eyes look down at you, his hair framing his face, "I could go for Chinese." He uses his broad shoulders to squeeze you, the high making him want to feel you close.

You cough, "Honestly me too," you pull the smoke into your mouth from the joint and inhale through your nose as it ghosts out your mouth, "would love some chow mein and egg rolls right now." You hand him the joint back. He takes it while still looking at his phone.

"Damn." He frowns, putting his phone away, his arm around you squeezing you again. You watch him bring the joint to his lips. The feeling of his frame cradling you under the blanket made you relax.

"What is it?" The haze from smoking has you feeling like you're flying on a magic carpet, the troubles of yesterday, light-years behind you as you blush at his strong touch.

"No Chinese place is open now. It's like past 11." He passes you the joint, and you take it in your lips, hitting it once before putting it out.

"Damn, that sucks. Talking about it got me all excited." You bury your face in his side under the blanket, inhaling his scent mixed with the smell of the weed, the high making it all the more blissful. He giggles and pulls you into him more, his heart quickening as he tells himself it's from the weed.

"I know. I'm sorry. Hey, how about this?" He looks down at you under the blanket, dawning a gentle smile, "there's a 24-hour gas station 10 minutes from here if we walk. Sounds like the rain stopped, too. Are you down for a little night walk? We could smoke on the way, get some snacks, drinks." He raises an eyebrow at you, earning a giggle.

"Sure, It's just hella cold outside. I need to get my hoodie from the car." You speak into his side.

"You're cute, I have one for you." He gets up and goes to his room and returns wearing a dark purple hoodie, handing you his old beat up Thrasher hoodie, "Here, it's the only clean one I have right now." You stand up and pull your flannel over your head like a shirt since it's so big. Choso looks away at the sight of you in your tight black tank top, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable under his gaze, even though you didn't. You pull the hoodie over your head, the bottom reaching past your butt.

"It's pretty big on you. Do you want to see if I can find a smaller one for you?" He scratches his head, trying not to feel awkward with himself.

"No, I like this," you smile at him and do a little twirl in his hoodie, hugging yourself, "This one smells like you. It is so fresh and clean. I like it."

"Well, it's all yours tonight." He blushes at the sight of you wearing his hoodie. He grabs your hand, and you take a step closer, "It suits you, you look good."

"Oh stop, you don't mean that," you say reactively to the compliment. Since your last man cheated on you, it was an understatement to say that your self-esteem was still recovering from the incident 3 months ago.

"Hey woah, what's up with that? Do you want me not to compliment you?" He squeezes your hand in his, as his other gently pets the top of your head, trying to get you to look up at him.

"I'll tell you while you roll this next joint. " You bring him over to the couch lazily, leading him with his hand in yours. He sits down and starts picking out nugs of the forbidden fruit, the movie forgotten as he turns his attention towards you. 'Why wouldn't she want to be called beautiful?' Choso thinks to himself as you bring your knees to your chest.

"So my boyfriend, well ex now, cheated on me a little less than 4 months ago. In our new place together too, so, I don't know." You shrug, sighing, "Its been fucking with my self esteem ever since so, I've kinda let myself fade to the background, you know?" It was hard to explain everything, the high causing you to muddy your explanation.

"I understand. How long was the lease?" He grinds down the weed.

"Unfortunately, 10 months. I still live with him now. Need to wait about 7 more months before I can leave."

"Oh, damn." He stops, "That's... rough, I'm sorry he would put you through that." His tone is soft as he speaks. There's so much more he wants to say, but he doesn't know how to say it. Is it even his place to speak his mind so freely to you about your life? He knows he could treat you so much better than that. He sets down the grinder and starts folding the filter, inclining to listen more.

"Yeah, I've been lying real low since then. She was someone he told me not to worry about." You sigh, that familiar bitter taste of betrayal coming up and burning like acid within your heart.

"I-I wow, I'm shocked. That's really fucked up. How long were you guys together?" He opens the grinder and looks over at you, thinking about how hard it must be to be around your ex still.

"4 years," you sigh before pausing, eyes glazing over before you mumble, "long time." You go limp against the couch, surrendering to its pull, stretching out your limbs. Choso quietly finishes rolling the joint as he gives you space to continue, "Yeah, you're like the only person I fuck with now really, even though this is the first time we've hung out together off campus." You smile at him.

"Well, I'm honored, truly." his words are genuine. He twists the end of the joint and puts it in his mouth before he stands up.

"Come on, let's forget about all that stuff tonight and just chill out together, okay? I feel like you need it." He holds out his hand for you, the gentleness radiating from his smile makes it hard not to intertwine your fingers with his, and he pulls you up from the couch. You guys never touched like this before, but you weren't complaining. Who could deny comfort from someone as gentle and kind as him in rough times like these?

"You're right," you shyly pull up the hood and cover your face with the other hand, taking a deep breath, "I do need to relax." He smiles and pulls you ahead of him, hugging you from behind, your back against his chest as he leads you out of the garage through the side door. The drum of your heart beats in your ear as you realize he's probably just extra touchy cause he's high, his head nuzzling into your neck. Or maybe he does feel the same? Savoring in his gentle grip, you try to ignore that questioning voice in your head.

You both stand under the flickering light outside by the door, fingers loosely intertwined, and he pulls his hood up in reaction to a cool gust. Looking at you, he releases your hand to light the joint in his lips, his other hand cupping the joint to block the wind. He hits it a few times and holds out his hand for you as he starts to walk towards the sidewalk.

You stroll together through the night, passing the joint between the two of you as you hold tight to his arm. At one point, Choso takes out his phone and puts on some music to play as you walk together. The both of you occasionally sing along and swing your interlocked fingers somewhat intoxicated on the energy you share together. Lights from the glowing store illuminate the night as you two approach. He lets go of your hand to put the smoldering joint filter out on his shoe before opening the door for you. He leads you to the cold refrigerator doors near the back where the drinks are. Opening the door, Choso grabs two Sapporo tall boys and then closes the door, looking over at you.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like drinking tonight," he chimes, his features now totally visible thanks to the humming LED lights of the gas station. His bloodshot eyes are a deep brown, and droopy. His smile, relaxed and easy, "I know you still need to drive home tonight, so don't let me pressure you into drinking." Choso knows what he wants to say next, but he doesn't know exactly how to say it. He scratches his head with his free hand, the other holding two 22-oz beer cans. "I mean, you totally can drink, I'm not your boss. If you need to, you can stay the night." The last sentence left his mouth with the tone of a question; was he asking you? Himself? Or was he asking himself if it was okay for him to ask you? Before he knew it, Choso was working himself into a knot over you.

"I'll stay," your voice rasps, and you cough, your throat dry from smoking in the cold. "I'll drink with you tonight." You walk over to the same refrigerator and grab the same size Sapparo as him. He smiles at you, the tension melting when you smile back, your nonchalant response making him realize he may be overthinking.

You guys meander through the store slowly. The radio plays the latest hits through a broken muffled speaker behind the counter, and you find yourselves at the register with nachos, soda, beer and a small bottle of vodka that Choso kindly asks the man from behind the counter to retrieve for him. "Are you cool with some vodka?" He turns to ask you at the counter, his hand going to fish his wallet out of his pocket.

"Oh yeah, I love vodka." The excitement of getting crossfaded with Choso only made you think about where this night was headed. He certainly was a very handsome individual. You've admitted to yourself already that he is someone you desire, but now that this is all happening, you are wondering how far you might go. After the painful breakup with Suguru, you vowed to yourself that you wouldn't date for a while in order to heal, but now that vow felt like it was being challenged. How far was too far for you? And at what point is the point of no return? The beep of the card reader pulls you out of your thoughts. Choso grabs the bag full of goodies and smiles at you, turning towards the door. His hand extends out to you.

"You there, Major Tom?" He references a David Bowie song he played on the way to the store, noticing you've zoned out.

"Ha, sorry, I'm high as fuck right now." You say almost in a whisper and the softness of your voice does something to him. He shakes it off as the cold wind bites his pale cheeks. Pulling out his phone, he checks the time, 11:50pm. "Almost midnight." He holds the door open with his foot for you.

"Yeah, it's late." You shiver, and he puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side in a way that's almost too casual, rubbing your arm to warm you up. Choso cracks open the vodka and takes a shot before handing it to you.

"This should warm you up at least a little bit." He hands you the vodka, and you take a few swigs, the cold dry liquid curing your cotton mouth. You walk through the night together, the conversation flowing between the two of you seamlessly as you pass the vodka back and forth for a couple shots before he puts it away.

"Let's hurry before you freeze over. Your fingers are almost blue." After he opens the door, you guys are quickly back sitting next to each other on the couch, your faces pale and rosey from the chilled midnight hour.

Choso stands up again and streches, taking off his hoodie, his shirt riding up slightly, pale skin peaking through. He sits next to you, his hair and shirt all disheveled, eyes dry and red. Stretching out on the couch next to him, you laugh, leaning into his side, the alcohol making you extra giggly and Choso dawns a goofy smile, chuckling. He pokes your side playfully, threatening to tickle you, but he retreats after you beg him not to. He's really enjoying your company and feels like the night just keeps getting better. Especially with you staying the night now. Which, truthfully makes him very nervous since he's never stayed the night with anyone like this before, let alone a girl.

You guys settle back into your spot from earlier and his hair covers his eyes as he peeks at you from his peripheral. You've already started rolling the weed in the paper, fringe framing your face, and Choso notices how red your lips are from the cold still.

You smile and turn to watch him as you lick the glue of the paper and seal the joint. Twisting the tip, you rest the mouthpiece in your lips and light the tip with his purple lighter. Soon after, the two of you are munching on some nachos, drinking beers cozied up to each other under the blanket, passing the joint between you, watching another movie, truly enjoying each other's intoxicated company. The feeling of the alcohol and weed mixing together, a warmth blooming within you, knocking off the night chill, you start to feel euphoric, alone here with him.

After a while, snacks and drinks discarded, you turn and watch Choso as he hits the mostly finished fourth joint when you notice something. He's pulling the smoke into his mouth but not inhaling it into his lungs, which gives you an idea. A small devious smile curls the corners of your mouth. He notices the look and furrows his brow.

"What is it?" He asks, his hand resting over your shoulder rubs your arm, pulling you in closer, his curiosity peaked.

"I wanna try something. Pull the smoke in your mouth again and let it drift out. Don’t inhale all the way. It's a smoke trick." Confused, he does what you ask. Your hand snakes around his neck, and he thinks you're about to kiss him when you bring him down to you, inches from your face. The smoke drifts out of his mouth, and you inhale it into yours, brushing his lip with yours softly, and you earn a small surprised groan from him. You pull away and giggle at Choso, who's left there, stunned, now a visible shade of red. You blow the smoke back into his face, causing his eyelids to flutter, and you can visibly see him swoon.

"It's okay, you can breathe." Your words are slightly slurred, as the liquid courage urges you into his side more, your words slightly slurred. The flicker of the TV light against his pale marble neck draws you in even closer.

"W-wow, I've never done that before." He shyly scratches his head, skin growing hot.

"Well, come here, and we can do it again." He brings the joint to his lips again, hair in his face, and pulls the smoke into his mouth. Pulling him close, you take the smoke in from his mouth again. This time, as you begin to pull away, Choso's hand goes to cup your cheek, not wanting you to create more distance. He pulls you into him and kisses you softly, whimpering into your mouth desperately. You kiss him back savoring the feeling of his soft lips, smoke billowing around you as it blows from your nose.

In one movement, you straddle him under the blanket, breaking the kiss, your hips fitting snug over his. Choso places the joint in his lips as you take his hands and rest them on your hips, your eyes watching him as he blows smoke from his nostrils. Reaching for the joint in his lips, you take it and hit it, looking down at the hazy choso under you, feeling his big hands squeezing and massaging your thighs. He really likes you and has always desired an intimate relationship with someone, but has never had the chance to invest in something like that until now. The idea was swimming around in his mind, all night truthfully, the image of you as his partner. Waking up next to you, your smell, that beautiful smile that gives him such a jolt of energy when he sees you in class, he can't help but smile himself. He wants you, so much more than he thought.

Placing the joint carefully back in his lips, you lay against his chest, your breath tickling his neck. The feeling of your chest against his makes his heart pound as blood rushes throughout his body.

"Ooh, someone's excited." You whisper into his neck, your lips brushing his skin, sending shivers down his spine. A giggle escapes your lips, and he smiles nervously in response.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't help it." One of his hands wraps around your waist, the other hastily puts out the joint on the couch. He holds you flush against his lap, with both arms, and you feel his hard dick, "You're the first girl I've ever done something like this with." He spoke nervously, informing you of his inexperience.

"Don't worry," you kiss his neck softly, "We can take it slow. Especially since we've been drinking tonight." You continue to pepper kisses along his neck, sucking softly on the pale tender skin, drawing groans from Choso as he writhes beneath you. His hard dick pushes up against you as you grind against him, "Shh shh," you hush him, feeling him squirm beneath your strong thighs. You guide his hands up your stomach to your torso. Choso's hooded eyes ooze desire, amplified by the high, as he follows your lead. He never knew skin could be so soft, his face now bright red as his fingers massage your tender breasts. His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he groans low in his throat at the feeling of your lips on his neck. To keep yourself from getting carried away, you stop, and guide his hands back down to your hips, resting your head against his chest. He exhales hard, hand going to stroke your hair as you lay against him.

"I want you so bad." Choso spills his guts in your ear, gasping, his arms squeezing you and he can't help but feel like he wants you so much closer now. You hush him again and dismount from him, a slight frown forming on his face mingled with confusion. His eyes, vulnerable as they focus on only you.

Did I do something wrong?

"I want you badly too Choso, but not like this, not when we're both crossfaded as fuck, you know?" You take his hand in yours reassuringly, and kiss his red knuckles which are surprisingly more rough than they appear.

“Did I do something..?” he trails off, his voice a whisper, his eyes frowning, and hazy.

“No Choso,” you kiss his knuckles again, pausing before you speak, “I like you a lot, Choso,” his eyes lock onto yours, “And, I want our.. intimate moments together to be special, intentional, and something I know I can remember doing.” a smile returns to his lips and he squeezes your hand. Honestly, you surprised yourself and him with your articulation in that moment, but maybe it's the alcohol?

“I like you too,” a smile forms on his lips and you cuddle into his side like before, letting out a satisfied yawn. The two of you cuddle on the couch as the TV fills the silence.

Choso lets out an exaggerated yawn, “Cmon it's late.” He stands up and holds out a hand for you. When you reach out, he sloppily scoops you into his arms bridal style, earning a surprised yelp from you.

“Choso,” you wrap your arms around his neck and he smiles, leaning in to kiss your red cheek. He yawns and sways as he carries you inside, bringing you to his room not far from the garage. You can't help but close your eyes as he carries you, feeling your head spin as his strong arms support you all too well. Before you know it, he sets you down in his bed in the dark while he stands beside you, not bothering to turn on the lights. He tucks you in nicely and kisses your forehead in a goofy kind of way, his older brother tendencies showing.

“You can have my bed tonight. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, especially since we're drun-” before he can finish his sentence, you're pulling him halfway into his own bed.

“Hold me while we fall asleep together, please Choso, we don't have to do anything crazy, ” your drunken request makes his cheeks burn, the alcohol and weed almost convincing him he's in dreamland. Sleepy red eyes drooping, scanning your face before he answers.

He gulps down the frog in his throat as he carefully climbs into his bed with you, pulling back layers of blankets. You feel him settling behind you, arms carefully hugging your body, his large frame acclimating to your shape tenderly. Choso scoots in closer, his breath tickling your ear softly as he whispers, “Is this okay?” His voice is shy, almost like he's trying to not disturb you.

You let out a tired mhm, and he smiles, feeling you scoot into him more. The warmth grows between you two in Choso's nest of blankets and pillows as a gentle, innocent calmness fills the room. Choso's breathing becomes slow and steady as he begins to drift off to sleep. You can feel his heart beating softly against your back, and it calms you even more, allowing you to fall asleep peacefully in his arms.

Credits//: dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more also someone let me know who the artist is for the choso drawing so I can give credits please.

#choso!!!!#choso x reader #choso smut #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso #jjk choso #choso fluff #stoner choso #geto suguru #read later #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut

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mschoiyuki · 3 months

Text

Forever With You

Trafalgar Law x f!reader

tw : angst to fluff. slow burn. SFW

wc : 7.2k

a/n : Modern AU. Everyone alive. Lack of communication. Law is clueless.

request by anon : arranged marriage with Law where you actually do love him but he doesn't know that.

Hi sweet anon, I don’t know you want this as a full angst or angst to fluff. I hope this is what you want, and I hope you like it.

I'm sorry for any grammar errors.

It's best to read this while listening to :

❆ Katy Perry - Wide Awake

❆ Taylor Swift - Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Enjoy ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

"Law, you're single right?" Doflamingo taps his fingers on his desk.

Law gives his unamused look and sighs, "I'm busy and you called me to come here to ask that stupid things?"

"Here. Go meet her at 1 PM at Dressrosa Hotel. She is your soon wife to be." Doflamingo throw a folder contains photos and all information about you in front of Law.

Law take a deep breath and clench his fist, "Like I said, I'm busy and I don't want to get married. No, I'm not interested in it. Go ask someone else." Law stands and ready to leave Doflamingo's office.

"You know I don't take NO as answers, right my cute nephew? Everything has been settled, the date, the venue, everything. You just need to meet her once before the marriage day." Doflamingo scrunch his eyebrows, "1 PM at Dressrosa Hotel. Takes the folder with you and off you go." Doflamingo puts his leg on the desk and sips his wine.

"Can't you just ask someone else? Like I said-" Law ruffles hir hair in frustation.

"You remember who makes you as a hospital director, right? And you remember with whose money that you could went abroad for collage for your doctors degrees, right?" Doflamingo interrupted Law before he can finish his words, swirling his wine glass.

"Like I said, I don't takes NO as answers. And you need, no, you MUST marry her, because I need their money. No matter what. End of discussion. You can go now." Doflamingo smirks and continue sipping his wine.

Law abruptly stands and storm off without saying any words. Doflamingo peer from his glasses, "Rosi, your son didn't take the files with him. And make sure he meets with the girl."

Rosinante shakes his head and take the folder with him, following Law to try persuade him to meet the girl. He spotted Law walks in to the lift, he runs and call for Law, "Law! Wait for me!!" Rosinante almost fell over in front of the lift and Law immediately push the hold button to let him in.

"I know why you are here." Law lets out a defeated sighs.

"Just go this once, Law. You know what will happen if you defy Doffy. Plus it's not a bad things if you're married, someone will take care of you. Hey, look. She's pretty too." Rosinante open the folder and tries his best to persuade Law, "Just go there for a moment, maybe talk a little? It will be so damn awkward at the wedding day if you ignore her, right?"

"I can take care of myself." Law grumbles, when the lift reach his destination floor, Law quickly get off. But Rosinante still follows Law closely, making Law more irritated than before . "Fine! Fine! I'll go! Happy now?" Law turns his heel to face Rosinante and takes the folder from him.

"Are you sure you want to marry him, Y/N?" Your father, Dragon asks. Being the only daughter of his, he seems reluctant to let you marry with someone from Doflamingo Family.

"Yes, father. 100% sure." You can't help the smiles that form on your face. Dragon not sure why are you so happy to get married even though you never meet your husband to be.

"You do know why Doflamingo wants you to marry his nephew, right? He just wants our money to invest for his hospital business." Dragon still persuade you to consider about this marriage again.

"I know, father. I have a lot of money. You can use my money for the investment, don't worry about it. Also some of my friends works at there, so let's just say I help them." You try to calm your father down.

"It's not about money, Y/N. You're my only daughter and I'm not that cold hearted to let you marry with someone you don't know. I just want you to marry someone you truly love, I just want my daughter to be happy." He may looks cold at the outside, but your father is just a softie to his sons and daughter.

"It's okay, father. Really. If anything happens I'll take care of it myself. Don't worry, okay?"

"But-"

"Ah! Look at the time! I have to go to meet my soon husband to be. Bye, dad!" You cut him off and dash out from his office almost bumps into Sabo at the door, "Oops. Sorry brother number 2." You laugh and kiss his cheek and run off again. "Hey! Where are you going, Nee-chan?" Sabo tries to catch you. "Off to meet the love of my life! Byeee~" You dodge him and stick your tongue out. Sabo glance at his father who shakes his head and sighs.

You nervously wait for Law at the restaurant, rubbing your thumbs together trying to calm down and keep your cool demeanor. When you sees a unique white spotted hat, you stands ready to welcomes Law, you reach your hand out to shake his hand, “Hi, I’m Y/N. Daughter of Monkey D. Dragon.”

Law reach your hand, “Trafalgar Law.”

You both sits down and order some lunch. You try to do a small talks with Law, but he just answer it short and sharp like he doesn't has any interest with you, he also doesn't ask you questions. You bites your inner lip and gives Law a sheepish smile, and eating in silence.

After done with lunch, Law offers to drive you to your house. You happily accept it because it's mean spending more time with him. But sadly silence fall over inside the car.

When you reach your house you ask Law if he want to come in for a cup of tea, he decline saying that he needs to go back to hospital. “Oh. Okay. See you next time then.” You smiles and Law just nods and leave.

You sigh and walk inside your house when your phone rings, your best friend Nami calls. “Hey, how’s your date?” She giggles. “Umm. It’s good maybe? I don’t know. I think he doesn’t like me, maybe because this is an arranged marriage. Or maybe he already has someone he loves?” You can feel the tears are swelling because of your negative thoughts.

“I don’t think he has someone he likes. Luffy never mentioned anything about that.” When Nami didn’t hear your response, “Come on! Don’t be sad. Let’s go out now. You need your bachelorette party.”

When Law arrive at his office, his two friends pestering him asking him about his marriage.

“Is it true that you’re going to marry the only daughter of Dragon? The conglomerate??” Penguin excitedly pestering him.

“Yeah. Got no choice.” Law lets out a long sighs.

“When’s the wedding? So we’re are groomsmen then? Can’t believe you’re getting married.” Sachi squeals.

“Shut up! Get back to works!”

Both Sachi and Penguin scurrying off before they get a taste of their friend wrath, “Can’t wait for the big day! We need to throw you a bachelor party! We will invite the others!” Penguin shouts from the door.

“Don’t shouts in the hospital!” Law massages his back of neck, he can feels his blood pressure is rising. He can’t believe he has to married in less than a week.

Both of you decided just invite your family and close friends to the wedding party. Luffy can’t believe you married his friend, but still happy for you because this means Law becomes his family too now.

After exchanging vows and rings, the wedding officiant announce, “You may kiss your bride now.” Law hesitate but decided to just gives you a quick kiss so this whole party can be over. "And now I announce you husband and wife." You smile happily now that both of you are officially a married couple now, but Law just keep his stoic looks until the end. But he still does his duty, he stays at your side while you both greet the guests.

After the party ends, you both goes back to your new home. "We need to talk, Y/N-ya." For the first time he talks to you first so you got excited, "Yeah. Of course. I'll prepare some tea." Law quickly cut you off, "Don't bother. I'll be quick."

Law sits and gesture you to sit too, "I'll sleep at the guest room. It's not like we married because of love so I don't think it's appropriate for us to sleep at the same room. You can take the master bedroom." You widen your eyes with his statement, "But, I lo-" Law cuts you off, "Let me talk first so we can finish this quickly, because I have an early surgery schedule tomorrow."

"If you need someone to accompany you to your events, just tell me. I'll try to fit my schedules. You also don't have to do any wife duties to me, house chores and marital duties. I think that's all for me. Then I'll excuse myself first." Law stands and leave you dumbfounded.

You can feel something is stabbing your chest, his words really hurts. "Then tell me just one thing." You speak louder so Law can hear you, Law turn his body to face you. "Do you have someone you love? If you have one you should tell me, because I don't want to be the third party here." You clasp your hands praying that he doesn't has one.

Law gives his deadpan look on you wondering why you ask this kind of question, "No. I'm not interested in that kind of things."

“Hmm. Then if you want me to follow your rules, I want you to fulfill my requests.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to spend your days off with me, for a date. At least we have to show other people we are married couple.”

Law considers your offers, “Okay. Fine. Anything else?”

"That’s all for now. Thank you. Good night. Have a good rest, Law." You feel relieve after hearing his answer. At least you still have a chance with him. "Let's take this slowly then. Hopefully one day we can share the same bed or even he will open up to me and loves me." You thought to yourself and gets ready for bed.

Even though Law said to not do any wife’s duties, you still want to act like one. You are his legal wife, you love him, just some small acts won't hurt right?

You know that as a doctor, Law schedules will be so packed. Sometimes he will come home at dawn and when you're coming home from work he's already goes to hospital. It's so rare to see him at home.

So you decide to give him a visit at hospital, bringing his favorite food. You thought that at least he will be happy to see you. No. He's not. You can see his scowl face as if he don't want you to be here. He grabs your wrist and drag you in to his office, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm bringing you lunch, your favorite. Onigiri. Because I know you hardly get times to eat so I made something simple." You handed the lunch bag to him.

Law just stares at you with his cold grey eyes and sighs, "We have canteen here. I can eat whenever I have time. Though I already told you to not do your wife duties?"

You clench the bag, "And I told you we have to act like married couple? What kind of wife that never visits her husband?" You sighs, "It's almost three weeks that we never meet each other even at home you know? I try to stay awake to wait for you comes home so I can greet you. I told you I want a date on your day off. But you never have a day off. At least this is the only way I can see my husband face." You put down the lunch bag at his table, "If you don't want it you can give it to your friends. Bet they will love it."

You quickly leave his office trying to blinks away the tears. You thought that he will chase you and gives his apology, but none. He doesn't come out from his office. "Why would I thought he will do that? Pathetic."

"Y/N! Hey!" You turn your head to the source of voice that calling you, "Hey! Marco! Chopper! You guys are on break?" You hugs both of them, they are your brothers best friends so you've known them for quite a long time too. "Yeah, we are on break now. You good, Y/N?" Marco stare intently at you. "What? I'm good. Come on, I'll treat you guys foods and sweets." You quickly dismiss Marco concern, you don't want him to suspect anything.

"Are you coming to visit your husband, Y/N?" Chopper asking with mouth full of cotton candy. "Yes, I just met him before I bumped into you guys."

"He's a busy man. Being the top surgeon and also the head of this hospital." Marco propped his head on his hand.

"Yeah, I know that." You try not making eye contact with him, because he will know something's wrong and he definitely going to tell Ace about it.

You're going back home after after saying goodbye to Marco and Chopper. "Am I being to harsh with him? Well, like Marco said, Law is busy after all. I'll try to apologize to him tomorrow." Maybe you should be more patient with him, maybe you should be more considerate with him.

When you wake up and getting ready for work, Law comes out from his bedroom, "Hey, it's my day off today." Law scratch the back of his neck. Your eyes widen, "Soo.... You mean we can go on a date today?"

"Yeah. As my token of apology for not taking a day off. But if you're busy then we can move it to next time."

"Oh no no. I'm free today." You call your assistant to move your schedules for the next days. "So, where are we going today?" Your face beaming with anticipation.

"Where ever you want to go. It's up to you."

You decide to just grab a lunch, nothing fancy just a leisure lunch and goes to coffeeshop. Then everything change when you suddenly get a text from Ace.

"Oh my God... Ace, Sabo and Luffy wants to come over tonight. They said they want to have a sleepover at our house." You can see Law face turns slightly annoyed, "Then we should go home now, I have to move my things from my room to yours."

Law starts move everything, and staged it to make it like both of you are really together, sleeping, eating, everything. He needs to make it perfect in front of your brothers, because he knows how troublesome they are.

The three of them arrive right on when the chef done cooking for dinner. As soon you open the door Luffy jumps on Law, hugging him so tightly it annoys Law so much. Ace and Sabo give you a big hugs and just nods at Law.

"So, what's with the sudden visit and sleepover? You guys do know that I'm married right?" You chuckles while enjoying the dinner.

"Nothing, we just miss you, sis." Ace gives his suspicious stare to Law.

Ah... Marco must has said something to him.

After dinner and chatting with the guys at living room, you and Law decide to sleep because you both need to work tomorrow.

Law gets his pillow and blanket to sleep at a couch on your room, "Just sleep here. It's uncomfortable sleeping there. You need a good sleep." You plea at Law, honestly you're nervous mess because this is the first time you will share a bed with Law.

"No, I'm good. You can sleep at the bed."

"It's not like I'm going to do anything to you. If you don't want to sleep here then I'll sleep at the living room. Your choice." You start to picking up your pillow and blanket.

"Fine. Fine." Law let out a defeated sighs and strides to your bed, you smile and scoot over to make a room for him. He sleep at the edge of the bed, his back on you. You smile happily to be this close with him, this is enough for now. Maybe this is a good start, first date, first time sleeping together. You're content with it.

Law blink and open his eyes slowly to get rid of the sleepiness, he feels something warm on his chest. He looks down and find you sleeping peacefully in his embrace. He grunts and slowly lets you go, trying to not wake you up, "How the hell is this happened?" he get off from the bed and get ready to work.

You wake up when you hear rustling voice, "Morning. You want breakfast? I can make onigiri for you."

Law glance at his watch and he still has time for breakfast, and your brothers also still here, "Sounds good."

You happily making onigiri for him, and Law sits waiting for you while reading the newspaper with coffee. The brothers coming out because they smells something delicious, so you also make the onigiri for them.

After you pack the onigiri for Law, you walk him to the door to send him off. "I'm going now. Thanks for the onigiri."

"Wait." You tug his collar and pull him down and you capture his lips softly. Law's eyes widened with your sudden kiss, maybe because your brothers are looking. He slither his hand on your waist and kiss you back. You pulls away and graze his lips for a moment, not wanting this moment to be over. "Have a safe trip and good day, darling." Law's ear getting red with how you calls him, "Yeah, you too." Law murmur and he goes off to work.

You giggle thinking about your second kiss and how he kissed you back. Maybe this is a good sign. When you turn back to the dining room and see Ace and Sabo grinning like idiots while Sabo close Luffy's eyes, your smiles drop, "Now you three should go back to your own house. Shoo!" Ace and Sabo make any kind of excuses to stay at your house a little longer.

This means you can spend another nights with Law, but you afraid that he will be uncomfortable. So Law just tries to adjust the new routine, sleeping at your room, waking up with you in his arms for a week. Law feels like this can be a little dangerous for him, because every time he wakes up and see you in his arm there's something tingling in his heart. Something he can't describe with his knowledge. The feeling of your bare skin on his hands, your warmth, your steady breathe that makes him so in peace.

This is so wrong. Sleeping together, waking up with you. This is all wrong. This has to stop.

When your brothers all go back to their home, Law moves again to his room. He's back to the old him. Going to work or coming back to home when you're already go to work or even asleep. For the first two days you thought his schedule is packed, but it goes until two weeks, you never see Law at home at all, you even try to go to his hospital yet you also can't meet him. Is Law either busy or trying to avoid you.

The third week, Sabo text you saying, there will be a gala dinner for charity so you should come too with Law, because Law's hospital and Sabo company are the sponsors.

You wait at Law office for all day to ambush him, you need to ask him why he never coming home and he also need to attend the gala tonight. But you decide to not ask him about that to not spoiled the mood later.

Law startle when he sees you at his office. "Long time no see, darling. We need to attend the gala tonight. You should go home to prepare." You give him a sweet smile but taste bitter for you. "Yeah, I know. You can go home first, I still need to finish my last appointment for today." Law walks to his desk without sparing you a glance. You sighs, "Fine. I'll wait at home, we need to go there together."

When you're done with your make up and hair, you hear Law's coming home. He also starts prepare for the gala. You go to his room and knock, "Law, can you help me button up the backside?" Then you see Law already on his suit, looking so damn handsome like the day you two got married. "Yeah, sure." Law thoughts he will only help you a few buttons, but when your back turn to him, Law's breath hitched when he sees your bare back. He carefully to not touch your skin, but he feels the urge to touch you. He lightly graze your skin as he buttons up your dress, making you goosebumps and shudder with his touch. "All done." Law's hand still linger for a seconds near your neck, feeling reluctant to let it go. "Oh. Thanks. I'm done, we can go now." Law nods and walks out of his room to get the car started.

After greetings all the guests together with Law, now you both goes separate ways talking with business partner or colleagues. But then when you talking with one of the potential investor, he begins become a little bit flirty and that makes you uncomfortable. You try to endure it because he might be put his money on the hospital or Sabo's company.

You jolt when you feel a hand slither on your waist and grip it tightly, when you look at the hand owner turns out it's your husband hand and that's make you feel relieve and safe. "Are you done talking with my wife? Because we need to talks to the others. If you need anything else you can contact her secretary. Let's go, honey. Then, pardon us. Enjoy your night." Law's hand still on your waist and he leads you to the other people. You look up at him, "Thank you, Law." But he doesn't says anything back.

"Y/N!" You hear a familiar voice calling you, when you turn your head and see the red hair man, you unintentionally slips away from Law's grip and you walk to him and hug him, "Shanks! Long time no see! How you've been?" You’ve known Shanks for quite a long time too, just like Marco. Shanks often visits Luffy when he was just a kid.

When you slips away from Law's grip, he feels a stinging pain in his heart. Law follows you and stand at your side when you chats with Shanks. Law never sees you so happy before, laughing with another man. As time goes by Law watch you still talking with Shanks like Law doesn't exist at your side, it's irritated him more. But he doesn’t knows why.

“Honey, can we go back now? I have an earlier surgery tomorrow.” Law intentionally puts his hand on your waist again and tug you closer to his side.

“Oh yeah. Sure.” You find it strange with Law’s behavior tonight. At first he saved you from that man, that’s normal. Maybe because he saw you feel uncomfortable. But this? With Shanks? He should knows who Shanks is. You say goodbye to Shanks and Law leads you until inside the car.

Another strange behavior from Law is he drives so fast. He never drives more than the maximum speed. “Law, are you okay?” You ask him with concerns but he doesn’t answer you, and it’s makes you worry more.

When you both reached home, Law immediately get off from the car and storm off inside the house and you follow suit.

As soon as you close the door and calls him again he push you to the wall, pinned both of your hand above your head with his left hand, his right hand grabs your neck tugging your hair a little and Law kiss you aggressively. He shoved his tongue in and slide his right hand to your waist pulling you closer to him.

The third kiss with Law leaves you breathless, hot, but you can feel his anger in it. When he pulls away, he quickly moves to your neck and shoulder blade, leaving bite marks. You whimper and says his name meekly, “Law…”

Law shoot his eyes open, pulls away from you and stare you wide-eyed. Your red lipstick is all smudged on your chin, Law sure he also has your lipstick smudged on his lips. Yet you looks so beautiful even you are in mess. He wants to kiss you again but when your lips graze each other, there's something snap in Law's brain. And he stop before he can kiss you again.

Law release your hand and takes a step back, "Sorry." That's all he says and he runs off, he hurriedly get inside the car and left you.

As for you, you still trying to process everything that happened. The kiss, his sorry, and he left you just like this. You even can't ask him what is he sorry for, you even can't stop him from leaving. Everything happen so fast.

You try to call him but doesn't pick it up. You try all night but none. You try to reach him for a week but he can't be find, you try to ask his father but Rosinante doesn't know anything about it. You try to go to hospital and even wait all day at his office but Law not coming up. This is drive you insane.

A week without any news from Law, it's makes you tired mentally and physically but you don't want to give up before you can get the answer from Law. The last retort is you ask his close friends, Sachi and Penguin. You even threaten them. Turns out Law is staying at their place. They give you the address and you rush to go there.

You rings the bell and when Law open the door, he doesn't expect you to be here. Law immediately close the door, but you held your hand between the door to prevent it close. In result Law hurt your hand pretty bad from how hard he slams the door.

Law shocks with how careless you are and he instinctively brings you in. He sits you down and checks your hand is there any broken bone or anything, he massage your hand to ease the pain.

"So, can we talk now?" You stare at Law, you can see how tired he is from his face, it's not like you are any better than him. But he still refuse to talk, so you just sighs and continue to ask him, "Why did you do that? And why you left me? You didn't calls me or texts me. Just tell me the reason, don't leave me hanging like that. I hate it."

Still nothing, Law doesn't looks at you nor even answer you. You yank your hand and hiss at your throbbing hand, Law look at you but he quickly avert his eyes.

It's hurt like hell. Not your hand, but your heart. "I love you, Law." You whispers the words while trying to hold back your tears. "I love you." You repeat it again now more clearly. "I love you." And now you can't hold back the tears anymore. Law just stay silent, but he turn his head to look at you. He didn't says it back, instead he says. "No, you don't. This marriage is not true. We married because Doflamingo arranged it. And I'm truly sorry that you had to involve with it."

"I love you, Law." You try to reach his hand, but Law dodge it. "Go home, Y/N-ya. I think we need to separate ourselves to think more clearly."

"What do you mean? My mind have always been clear, Law." You wipe your tears, "Do you love me, Law?"

Law clench his both hands and stare at you, he can't say anything. It feels like something stuck at his throat, so he just turn his head averting his gaze.

"I'm happy with you, Law. Even if it's just for two months I'm really happy." You close your eyes and take a deep breath, "But, if you don't love me and you are suffering because of me, because of this marriage, then let's divorce. My lawyer will prepare all the papers. And don't worry about Doflamingo, I'll handle him."

You stand up and walk to Law, you reach his face and turn his head to looks at you. "Thank you for the happiest memories you gave me, Law. I love you." You leans in and stop at his lips, instead his lips you kiss his cheek for the last time. Because you don't want your last kiss with Law is a farewell kiss, let the last kiss with Law was the hot passionate kiss he gave you.

You caress his cheek and smile at Law, "You are free now, Law." Then you walk out of the apartment. You enter the lift and make a call, "Sabo, please pick me up." You crouch down and you can't hold back your tears anymore, you sobs while calling Sabo.

Sabo tries to drives faster to pick you, it's really hurt his heart hearing his beloved sister crying like that. When he arrive he immediately takes you into the car. "Take me to your place, Sabo. I don't want to go home. Please." You still sobs and clutching your arms tightly, leans your head to the window.

Sabo lets you sleep at the guest room, he prepare everything you needs. "Can you tell me why you are there, sis? What happened to you? Who did this to you?" Sabo sit at the edge of the bed and hold your hand to calm you down. Being the closest siblings with Sabo, you tell him everything and you cry again remembering how painful today's event were.

"Promise me, Sabo. Don't tell Luffy about this. They are friends. I don't want to ruin their friendship." You try to convince Sabo to keep silent about this matter.

"Then why you did that? Why you have to divorce him?" Sabo still can't understand why.

"If he can be free from this suffering then I'll do anything for him, Sabo." You give him a sad smile.

"Then what about you? You don't care with your own happiness?"

"If Law is happy to be free, then I'm happy too, Sabo."

Sabo grip your hand tightly, "Then what's your plan after this?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll go to Switzerland to clear my minds. I don't have any confidence what will I become if I stay here." You really want to stop crying but the tears just rolls down on it's own. Sabo hugs your for comforting you, "So, when you are gonna go?" You hiccups and wipe your tears, "Tomorrow."

Law lays on his bed and stare blankly at his wedding ring on his finger. He takes it off, "I'm free? From what? Doflamingo? You?" Free. But he feels empty inside. There's something wrong with this freedom you gave him, but he doesn't know what's wrong with it. Law tries to sleep but his eyes won't shut. He can't sleep, every times he close his eyes, your face appears at his mind. Your crying face haunts him, Law can felt his heart clench when he saw your tears, Law wants to wipe away your tears, but he can't, he doesn't has the right for that. Does Law feels guilty to shove you away? Or he just pitying you?

Law not sure if he feels guilty or pity. But he won't denied that the first time he saw you two years ago in the crowd you were so mesmerizing. When he knew that you are his marriage partner he was so torn, should he be happy or sad? Will you be happy with him? And why did you agreed to marry him? Do you even love him?

But when you said you love him numerous times, he can't believe it. There's no way you love him. Did Doflamingo tricked you? Law keep tossing around thinking about everything that had happened today, "I should go home tomorrow to get new clean clothes. I have to wait when you're not at home then." Law sighs and his eyes feel heavy now with the sleepiness creep in.

When Law arrive at your house, he see Sabo's car outside. Law walks in and Sabo stare at him with anger, "You are really stupid, you know that? I really want to punch you right now but I try to hold back for the sake of my sister that loves you so much. You don't deserve her." Sabo walk past Law and leave him there.

Law lets out dry chuckles, "Yeah, I don't deserve her." Law thought that you are resting at your room, but there's soemthing not feels right at this house. It's feels empty, like nobody is at home right now. Law's guts tell him to check on you, so he walks to your room and knocks. But there's no answer, so he open it. Law's eyes widen when he see your empty room, "So this is it, huh?" Law close the door and starts gather his things, before he leave he looks back one more time. Remembering some moments he spent with you in this house.

You sits at the lounge waiting for your boarding time, looking at your diamond ring, you rub it and take it off, "Funny how this beautiful ring is not from him. Must be someone else pick our wedding rings." You chuckles, trying to hold back your tears behind your sunglass. When you hear the announcement for your flight, you get up and put your ring into the champagne glass.

That night Rosinante come to visit Law at Sachi and Penguin place, "Are you seriously getting divorce with Y/N? Why, Law?"

"Because this marriage is not real from the beginning. Doflamingo already got what he wants. So there's nothing wrong if we divorce."

Rosinante sighs, "Do you hear yourself right now, Law? Your words don't match your face you know. Don't lie to yourself."

"Lie about what? I'm not lying." Law furrow his eyebrows.

"Law, do you love her?" Rosinante ask him bluntly, "See. you even can't say no to it. I saw how you both looks at each other, Law. You look at her with eyes full of love. Think and ask yourself again, Law. Do you love her or not. She came to me asked about you in panic, you know." Rosinante rise and pat Law's shoulder. "It's not too late, Law."

Rosinante’s word lingers at Law’s brain, he stares at his phone thinking is this the right thing to do? Law close his eyes and takes a deep breath, then he push the call button, “Hey, Sabo. This is Law. Can we meet up now? There’s something I need to ask you.”

“What do you want, Law?” Sabo crossed his arms.

“I need to know where is Y/N-ya. And I know you must know where she is right now.”

“And why do you think I’ll tell you that?”

“Because I want to make it right this time.” Law stare directly at Sabo, and it’s make Sabo soften, he tells Law where you are right now.

“Thanks. I owe you.” Law rises from his seat and ready to leave but Sabo tells something to him and that makes Law more sure about his decision.

You strolls around Lake Lungern, enjoying the view and fresh air. Hoping this new environment can heal your broken heart. Yet your mind still wanders to Law. What’s he doing now, does he has surgery today, does he eat yet. You chuckle and shake your head, you flew thousands miles from him yet you still can’t forget about him.

When you look ahead, you see something familiar. A tall man with a white fluffy spotted hat. You squint your eyes, thinking maybe you’re hallucinating now because you just thought about him. Strange… That white fluffy spotted hat coming closer to you until that man stop his tracks a few feet from you.

“Hey.” Law stands awkwardly in front of you.

“This is not real.” You look up at him, blinking away your hallucination. But that man still standing in front of you, "It's real. It’s me, Y/N-ya.”

“What are you doing here? How did you-”

“I asked Sabo.” Law cut you off, “I’m here to take my wife back.”

You can’t believe with what just he said, “Wife?? I already told my lawyer to take care of the divorce papers. You are free now, Law. You can do whatever you want."

"Yes, and since I can do whatever I want then I'm here to take what's mine."

"You are so selfish, Law." You walk past him. You have a mixed feeling about Law sudden appearance. Just when you decided to let him go and yet here he is, spouting nonsense.

Law follow you and stands in front of you again to stop you walks away, trying to convince you that he is serious about this, "I know I'm selfish, and I'm sorry that I hurt you. Can we go somewhere else so we can talk?"

You close your eyes and sighs, "Do you have a place to stay?" Law shake his head. "Follow me."

You walk to a small cottage near the lake, Law follows you in and he put his bag down. "Coffee?" You walk to the kitchen but Law grab your wrist, "That can wait, let's talk first." Law lead you to the couch sits with you.

"Did Doflamingo threatened you to do this? I told you I'll handle him. You don't have to worry about the funds or anything, Law. Just lives freely." You furrow your eyebrows and ready to unleash your rage to Doflamingo later after this.

"No, Y/N-ya. He didn't threatened me or anything. I did this is on my own will." Law take your hand and rub your back of hand and he realize you don't wear your wedding ring anymore, "I know this is too late, but I really wish I still can make it right."

"What do you mean, Law?"

Law take a deep breathe, "I believe we saw each others at Luffy's birthday party two years ago. I mean we didn't talk to each other that time, but I saw you, and I... I felt something that time, but I just brushed it off. Until we met again at the hotel for the marriage thing. To be honest when I saw you as my wife to be, I'm afraid that you won't like me, because this is arranged marriage after all and we never talk before. Until you said that you love me, I still can't believe it."

This is the first time that you hear Law talking this much, and he shows you his vulnerable side to you, "How did you know we saw each other at Luffy's birthday party two years ago?"

"Sabo told me. He also said that you pestering him asking about me that night. Is that true, Y/N-ya?"

"Yeah..." You murmur and look down at your hand that Law still grip.

"I'm sorry, Y/N-ya. I shouldn't had push you away like that. Can we start over again? Is it too late, Y/N-ya?" Law lifts your face to look at him.

Tears begin threatened to fall at the corner of your eyes, you can't believe this day will come. You just nod and the tears fall down, Law hugs you tightly and kiss your temple, and you cry in his embrace.

When you wake up you feel a heavy arm hugging your body from behind, a head nuzzle at the crook of your neck. This feel surreal, from today onwards you will waking up with Law at your side everyday. Law stir awake and he peppered kisses on your shoulder and neck, "Morning, my wife." He says between the kisses. "Gosh. His morning voice is so sexy."

You giggle and turn around to face him, "Morning, husband." You kiss his lips and Law smile against your lips, spending a lazy morning with you under the sheets, feet’s entangled with each other and snuggles is like a dream come true for him.

“Do you remember the kiss you gave me when we got home from the gala dinner?” You propped yourself on Law’s chest and tracing his heart tattoo that you see for the first time.

Law furrow his eyebrows, thinking for a moment, "Yeah... Why??"

"Are you jealous when I talked with Shanks?" You grin at him. "No." Law flick your forehead gently. Your grins widened and you tease him again, "Ah... You are jealous." Law ears turned red, he grabs your arm and waist and flip you on your back, you laugh and Law bites your neck and laps it with his tongue, he suck it to make a red color appear on your skin making you whimper, "You're mine. I don't like it when you get close with other men." Law kiss your forehead and he grab your hand to get off from the bed, "Come on, let's go out and eat breakfast before we stroll around the lake." Well, turns out he quite a possessive man, you try to hold your smile.

Law intertwined his hand with you as both of you strolls around the lake, "Where is your wedding ring, Y/N?" You're taken aback with his sudden question and you stop on your track. You almost forgot that you didn't wear the ring anymore, "Umm. At the champagne glass on the lounge?" You stare at Law with apologetic look, "Well, since we will get divorce so I took it off and left it there. And I know you're not the one that chose our wedding ring. So... Yeah..."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm not the one that chose those rings. That's why this time I choose it myself." Law brings a box from his pocket and he open it. There are two wedding rings in it, a pretty diamond ring that really suits you. You gasps when he open it, Law takes your ring and brings up your hand, "Let's start over again, Y/N. Stay with me forever." Law slips the ring onto your finger and he kiss your knuckles.

You can't hold back your happy tears, you take Law's ring and you slips it onto his finger, "You stuck with me, darling." You giggles and tip toeing to kiss Law.

Law grabs your waist and pulls you close without leaving a gap between you, and he deepen the kiss. When he pulls away, he caress your cheek, "I love you, Y/N."

"Takes you long enough to say it. I love you too, Law." You smile and kiss him again, you can feel Law smiles on your lips.

You don't need Law to kneels to propose you, this is more than enough for you, all that matter is Law asking you to marry him again on his own will.

Both you and Law just stroll around the lake and the village, hand in hand and so in love. Enjoying your honeymoon.

dividers by : @saradika-graphics

#trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader #law one piece #one piece law #law x female reader #one piece trafalgar law #op law #trafalgar d law #one piece

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forthelostones · 7 months

Text

𝚙𝚝.𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby (eventually), mini slowburn, suggestive language, jealousy, nora & mel & ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parental death, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: hi everyone, waaaa thanks for all the follows! i appreciate you all sooo soo much. so sorry this was a day late! i don't really like this chapter and probably will come back and edit to be a little better. but enjoyx

(no y/n)

wc: 3k

The midterm season ended with many restless nights with Abby. She was satisfied with the amount of time you two were spending together but found it incredibly irritating it was only because of school. She wanted you to be hanging out with her because it was her. She remembered one night while you two were studying some dosage math how your face scrunched up at the problem. Your eraser nub started to become obsolete, scratching against your notebook, followed by the brush of an angry hand. She liked to see you struggle, she enjoyed those small grunts you let out as you pressed harder onto the paper, as if that would make the right answer appear. “Abby.” You groaned.

She started to notice that she liked that too when you would say her name all frustrated but softly with a sleepy pout. She let you struggle so she could scoop in and save you from your own mental despair.

“Look, pay attention. The order is 750 mg of Erythromycin, okay? On hand is 250 mg of Erythromycin capsules,” Abby writes the formula neatly. “Let’s do that math. You know it, I know you do.”

She watches you press your fingers into the sides of your temples as if you could massage your brain. You begin writing out the computation.

“Oh, so it was 3 this whole time.” You sigh.

“Yes, you were close.” Abby smiles as she reaches out to rub your back. Even though you both were sitting here, after a four-hour study session, she thought you looked precious.

A week later, you had fallen asleep on her shoulder while sitting on her sofa rewatching an old lecture. She analyzed your face as if it were a picture she was never to see again. Your bottom lip was glossy and hanging, eyes gently shut with your eyelashes wrinkling in the inner corners, the way your body pressed against hers; heavy and relentlessly. She could tell you felt safe in her presence and that warmed her so much that she began to sweat from anxiety. She didn’t want to wake you up, she knew you hadn’t slept properly and lived off of energy drinks the last couple of days. Your little open-mouthed snores made her smile, you were perfect in her eyes.

She had dozed off for a bit too and noticed your head was now on the back of the couch, slightly over her shoulder.

“Hey, hey. Come on, let me get you some sleeping stuff.”

You blink to uncloud your vision. Embarrassed, you wipe your face and hold it in your hands watching Abby carry over blankets from her hall closet. You silently say thank you to her, not sure if she even heard you. She drags a pillow from her bed, encased in a dark green jersey material.

“Just lay down. Please?” Abby knew you’d protest and walk back to your apartment, which made her demands even stronger. How could she tell you she wanted you in her bed right now? She couldn’t.

You press your head against the firm yet soft surface and drag the blanket up to your neck with her standing over you. Almost admiring you.

“I’m going to go to bed too, if you need me…” Her voice trailed off.

God, this smells like her, you thought. The conditioner she uses is melted into the fiber and threads of this pillow. The piney scent of her skin has left traces on the seams and all you can do is sink into it more, imagining it was her chest. You felt the rhythm of her breathing calm you to sleep and her bolder arms tucking you into her side.

Abby lay in her bed, one pillow missing, helplessly wishing that you would waddle to her door and slip under the covers with her. But you never did.

Two weeks later, Thanksgiving break rolled around and you were due back home to visit your family. Abby was sitting on the edge of your bed watching you fold your clothes up and place them in your duffle. Nursing student's schedules were different from the rest of the university, so your break started today, on Monday.

“You are a horrible folder.” Abby snorts.

“Since you’re so good at professionally folding clothes show me.”

She stood up and took one of your sweaters, facing it on the bed, tossing the sleeves over the torso portion, and folding the bottom to the collar. She stood with a stupid grin admiring her work with her hands on her hips. You nudge her in the rib cage and she shoves you back. The last month or so you two would get into these playful rumbles that ended up with Abby grabbing or pinning your wrists down under her body.

“No, not today. Stop.” She says.

It’s obvious I’m flirting right, Abby thought.

“Thanks for your help but I usually just do my way to everything, shirts, pants, sweaters, not my underwear though, who folds those?”

Abby plops on the bed and raises her eyebrows as to say, Me, idiot.

“Abby please don’t…”

“Folded and color coordinated,”

You couldn’t get the image of her ass in a black thong out of your mind now.

“You have to take care of them, they’re delicate.” She shrugs.

“I know,” you say opening your underwear drawer. “It’s just, look at them.”

Abby was looking, she was looking hard. You’re holding up a pair of nude cheeky, lace panties out of a handful you removed from the dresser. She wondered if you had worn those the day of the house party, and how different things would be right now if she had been responsible for destroying them that night.

“Okay teach me your stupid foldy-thingy,” you say.

Abby holds your panties like they are pure gold. She tucks the corners in and then folds the crotch to make somewhat of a roll and presents it to you after retaking her position.

“You excited to go home?” She asks.

“Of course, I’m helping cook this year, so that’s kinda fun, I guess. How about you?”

“I was just gonna camp out here, catch up on some NCLEX stuff.”

Abby watches your mouth fall open.

“Abigail!” You yell, startling her. She loved the way her name sounded between your lips.

“I can’t just let you be here alone, what the fuck, let me call home and change my flight, I’m serious.”

You reach for your phone that sitting in the center of the bed. Before you know it Abby has it in her tight grip, and tucks it behind her back. “Nope. I’ll be okay.”

You shove your empty duffle off the bed and climb to wrestle the phone from her grip. It happens so fast but suddenly, she’s under you and your legs are wrapped around her waist.

“Abby, give me my phone, now.”

She knows this is playful but the way your voice dropped with such authority made her tense. Your ass was pressed against the top of her mound that was now beating. As you place your arms on either side of her head she gulps.

“What if I don’t?” She pokes.

You roll your eyes. “Abby I can’t let you stay her alone. Plus Ellie invited me to this thing…”

There it was. This wasn’t about her, it was about Ellie.

You lift up and Abby sits up with your phone in her lap, trying to hide her frustration and she wasn’t good at that. “Right.”

“Abby, it wasn’t just because of Ellie,” you start folding to hide from her eyes. “I like spending time with you. You’re a good friend to me. I wasn’t going to stay just for her.”

“You weren’t?”

“Not at all. But now I want to because of you. I wouldn’t feel right going home and being around my family knowing you’re here by yourself studying NCLEX flashcards.”

“I’m just saying, you don't have to stay.”

“I’m not asking for your permission, Abby.”

The following morning Abby spent all day cleaning her apartment energetically awaiting your arrival. Her hair was tied messily on top of her head, bobbing as she scrubbed the inside of her tub. Part of her was doing this to settle her jitters, although you have hung out plenty of times, it was different. You and Abby came to an agreement that you would make a meal together, and she wanted it to be perfect. After sweating the chemicals she inhaled out of her pores, she showered and washed away any worries she had.

She undressed over five times trying to find the right outfit and brushed her hair into different styles, but nothing was satisfying her. But as soon as you knocked on the front door she fluffed it and left it down, which she rarely does. Abby decided on black chino pants, a black short-sleeved top, a gold rope chain peaking under, and small matching gold hoops.

The soft jazz music played through her apartment, bouncing off the walls that were decorated in warm light from a few lamps. There were several candles littered around the living room too. You noticed Abby put on a tinted chapstick and mascara, darkening her eyes a bit. She smiles at you without saying a word, just relishing in your beauty. As she closed the door behind you, she took an unsuspecting look at you.

“Are you ready Chef Anderson?” You ask.

“I am very ready, let me get you a glass of wine.”

Your glasses clink and she watches sip on the velvety liquid which stains your lips beautifully. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, she looked radiant.

“I got all the groceries from the list you sent me and I am ready to cook, I only have one apron though…”

“Good, I’m just here to look pretty and sit anyway.” You add.

She scuffs at you and laughs lightly. Abby didn’t mind cooking for you, actually she preferred it this way.

You settle on the couch, body facing the kitchen and watch her tie a blue and white pinstriped apron around her waist. Her ass in those pants was decadent, you watched her bend over to reach into the fridge and shamelessly watched her muscle fill the slacks in all the right places. Her toned arms began prepping various veggies, flexing and precisely slicing them. You walk up behind her to get a better look, body pressed against the outside of her back and arm. She smiles over her shoulder and just continues to chop with such precision as if she were a surgeon.

“Wanna try?” She asked, lifting the knife to you.

You set your glass on the counter and pick up the professional-grade knife that was just in her hands. You begin dicing the onions but they come out jagged compared to the cut of hers.

“How do you—“

Before you could finish your sentence her hands were coming up to yours, hand around your wrist and guiding you on the proper level of pressure to use. Her hips were gently brushing your backside, forearm swooping on your back, looking over your shoulder, and whispering praises in your ear.

Like that. Ahh Perfect. Good. Slower.

“My sous chef.” She smiled, tilting her head at you, as she refilled your glasses. She wiped her hands on her apron and moved on to the next thing. She didn’t mind that you were watching her hands grip around the base of the knife, proctoring her every move.

“Am I doing a good job?” She asked.

“Yes, a very good job.”

You emptied her cabinets with the proper cutlery to set the table. Abby found herself observing how neatly you laid out the plates and napkins, it felt right. She recognized the feelings that she had for you in that moment were undeniable. It felt like she could do this forever with you. Make dinner after a long shift and sit and talk to you about any and everything, live together, and build a dream life. Once you noticed her watching and staring, she blinked to awaken herself from that fantasy.

“Ah fuck,” she muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

“This is my cooking shirt, I’m going to go change into something cleaner.”

She walked away hurriedly, nervous that you noticed her soiled top. She crossed her arms, peeling off her shirt, exposing the back of her red mesh bra to you. Your eyebrows lift as you wonder if she has the matching panties. She exchanged the black shirt for a white one, where the sleeves suffocated her arms and clung to her body in a seductive way. The traces of the bra were outlined in the fabric, exposing the intricate lacing on the top.

“This looks really delicious.” You smile as Abby dishes up your food.

She grins at your compliment and serves herself ready to eat.

“I’m glad you’re here with me.”

You push your food around on your plate, suddenly feeling shy, and look up to her waiting for your words back. “I’m really glad I stayed. You know how to treat a girl right.”

Abby bit the corner of her lip, you always made her lose her train of thought when you looked at her with those wide eyes. Halfway through dinner, with a few more glasses of wine, and a lot of food in, you really begin to feel a flutter in your stomach and wonder if Abby is feeling the same way too.

“So, the whole Nora situation.” Your voice trailed.

Abby sighs. “Nothing came of it, I still never replied to that message.”

“Why not?”

Abby couldn’t read your face — was it jealousy, contempt, or something else.

“Not really interested in her. I could force myself to be but it’s not really fair is it?”

“I mean, she just wanted to sleep with you I’m sure.” You sip.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just know.”

“From personal experience?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Anderson.”

Abby stood over the sink wiping down the countertop after washing the dishes, and you did the same to the dining room table. “All done Chef.” You smile, tossing the towel at her. You walk towards her with a half-lidded, tipsy look and she just shoves you away playfully.

“Come dance with me Anderson.”

“What? No.” She chuckles apprehensively.

She dries her hands on the towel thrown over her shoulder and strolls over to you. You roll your hips to the music and turn around slowly, so she can get a glimpse of you. Her eyes travel up and down your body, appreciating the view.

“C’mon Abby, show me how you showed Mel.” You poke.

She doesn’t hesitate to drape your arms over her shoulders and lace her fingers behind your back. You glance down to her cherry mouth and back to her eyes. Music was playing but you couldn’t hear it, she trapped you, and there was no going back.

“I’m not the best dancer you know.” She says.

“Well, I can see that.”

You look at her body, stiff as a board. You remove your arms and switch positions with her, bringing her arms over your shoulders and holding her waist. Abby was surprised to see you take the initiative. She laughed at how large her arms were in comparison to yours, but she noticed your grip was strong on her hips.

“I like when you guide me.” She whispered.

“You do?”

“A lot.”

“I tend to prefer to take the lead,” You smirk.

Abby loses her footing as you push her back to fall into a box step. She becomes flustered trying to find the rhythm in the music, watching your feet, attempting to emulate your pattern.

“Eyes up.” You say, lifting her chin.

Abby fell into the steps, her eyes concentrating on you. She saw her deepest desire play out in her mind, which was kissing you, and there was nothing stopping her now. She also didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“I got it.” She smiled.

“See, now you can share this with whomever.” You say, pulling away.

Abby scratched her neck. “What if I only want to share it with you?”

Her words ring loudly in your ears, the combination of her touch and the wine was making everything sweeter. She stepped forward, wrapping her hand around the back of your neck, and pressed her lips against yours. The bitter grape taste swirled in your mouth as her smooth mouth found yours. You rest your hands on her waist, thumbs perched under her t-shirt, massaging her skin.

Abby was embarrassed at how wet she became from just a simple kiss. Your fingers on her were cold but it was the warmest touch she ever received. Neither of you pulled away until you were fighting for air. It was the first time in Abby’s life that she made the first move on a woman she had an interest in. She grinned proudly after examining your sweet face.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to do that.” She said.

“Don’t be sorry,” you glide your hands over the curve of her ass.

Abby’s stomach dropped through the floor as you gently toyed with her. She watched the ends of your grin curl, noticing how sensitive you made her. You lean in again, hovering in front of her lips.

“You wanna do it again?” You tease.

“I do.” She mumbles.

You ghost your lips onto hers, barely touching, not even a peck. She huffs in frustration and pushes herself in closer, to which you pull away. She rolls her eyes and tries again, and you lean away. Finally, she grabs your face and doesn’t hold back. Your cheeks are crushed in her palms, her tongue is desperate in your mouth and searching for yours. Abby’s breathing heavily and walking you backward into the nearest wall. Without breaking contact, she grabs your wrists and puts them above your head. Her lips wrap around your tongue and she starts sucking without warning. Her thigh comes in between your legs, practically lifting you up the wall, and you gasp at the sensation.

#abby x reader #abby anderson smut #lesbian #abby anderson x you #abby smut #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #ellie williams fanfic

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dairyminki · 11 months

Text

Inked By Fate - ONE

↬ pairing/s: park seonghwa x fem!reader, choi san x fem!reader ↬ genre: soulmate!au, racers!ateez, rivalry, angst, romance, fluff, pining ↬warning/s: none (lmk if i missed anything) ↬wc: 1k+

*reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated!

・・・・・★

You hissed as you felt the pricking sensation on your back growing much more intense by the second. Your hands gripped at the counter, knuckles almost turning white, as you tried to steady yourself up whilst trying to not give in to the pain.

Here, it goes again.

A minute or two later, the door to the shop opens, revealing another female whose face turned panicky upon seeing your state behind the counter.

"Oh my god, Y/N!" The newly arrived female runs to you and then quickly guides you to one of the chairs. She eases you through the pain by cracking some jokes and telling you everything about her day. By the time the pain subsided, you were left staring at the pastel-painted ceiling, spaced out on the chair with a sore back.

"Y/N..."

A voice snaps you out of your mini daze.

"I-I think it's the biggest one yet, Jia." You told your best friend whose eyes widened in response.

"That explains why you looked more pained than ever." Jia says, pouting. "I'm sorry you always have to go through this. If only I can do something-"

You immediately put a hand up, indicating that you don't want to hear Jia continuing her words.

Because in the first place, it's not and will never be your best friend's fault. The cruelty of fate and destiny - that's what to blame.

"Ji, can you check it for me please?" You ask her instead, gesturing your back, with your head. Without any other word, Jia rushes behind you and rolls up your baby blue shirt.

"Oh my- Y/N, it's very pretty!" Jia exclaims, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"Jia, everything for you is pretty," you counter.

"No- I mean, I'm not kidding this time. This one's different!" Jia insists, and when you turn to look at her, you could see how your best friend's eyes sparkled in delight.

Seeing the doubt in your face, Jia offers, already extending her hand to you, "Do you want me to take a picture of it?" she asks.

"Yes, please."

・・・・・★

As soon as you got inside your apartment, you immediately went inside your room and made your way to your bed. Hugging a pillow, you laid down on your side as your mind drifted off to the familiar dark abyss where your endless thoughts resided.

Just how much pain will you still have to go through before you finally meet them?

For all you could know, maybe the chances of meeting them might not even be that high...so does that mean you'll have to suffer endlessly through these pains?

Sometimes, you question why fate and destiny chose to play their cards this way...

Why do they have to make it so hard for everyone, just for the sake of finding each other's soulmates? Your soulmate.

Yes, all the pain you've been feeling is all caused by your one and only soulmate. Your, supposed to be, 'other half' who, for some reason, you still can't find.

As a child, your parents always told you and your brother about the concept of soulmates, and of fate and destiny. Because of that, you've learned to love and appreciate the concept so much that everytime you see the inked initial on your wrist, you can't help but smile. Looking at it always manages to make your day.

That is, until you turned 18 - still no signs of your so-called soulmate. Due to that unfortunate reason, you had to experience another soulmate mark.

You remembered giggling in joy once upon a time as you let your imagination run wild. You imagined that maybe you'll have the infamous different eye color mark, or maybe the changing hair color one - but you certainly didn't expect this - for getting another tattoo related mark.

It started when you were in the middle of your Physics midterm exam, when you suddenly felt pain surging through your lower leg. The pain was bearable, but still it was pain.

When you went inside the bathroom, that's when you took notice of the black ink that was present in your leg. The tattoo was in the form of a fiery crown. And at first you were confused, thinking that your eyes were probably deceiving you. However, after spending nearly an hour staring at the same spot on your leg and searching on the web for confirmation, you eventually found out that it indeed is, your new soulmate mark.

After that, the tattoos just kept coming, and before you even knew it, your upper arm towards your back was littered with black ink.

And then today happened...

The biggest tattoo your soulmate has ever done - and they really had to place it on their back?

You wanted to curse them, but you thought that what if your soulmate didn't know? What if your soulmate didn't know that this is the case for your new soulmate mark? That for each tattoo they decide to get on their skin, the very same one starts to blossom on yours as well? Can you blame them?

"What a day..." You mutter under your breath, and then you suddenly realized that you still haven't seen the new design on your own back. And so, you quickly fished your phone out from your pocket.

"Oh my god...Jia wasn't joking." It is pretty. Maybe, the prettiest you've ever seen.

The tattoo was an infinity symbol, but instead of the plain one, it was made of a rose, with its stem bended into a loop with all the thorns present. And then somewhere along the lines were the words, fate and destiny.

You don't know why, but you felt warm. You felt warm because it's as if your soulmate was thinking the same as you.

That no matter how beautiful the concept of having soulmates is, the process of finding them says otherwise. But in the end, you know it'll be worth it. Just like a rose, no matter how beautiful it is, it still has prickly thorns that might pierce your skin. But in the end, it'll still be a beautiful flower to those who can see.

So that's why even though this game of hide and seek might be tiring and somewhat painful, you'll still move forward. Hoping that each step you take will finally lead you to your soulmate.

"What a beautiful pain..." You sighed as your gaze went to the letter that was inked on your right wrist.

・・・・・★

↬a/n: hello hello hello~ this one's finally been freed from my drafts dungeon and i'm so happy! the first chapter is just an introduction for y'all to get a glimpse of the character and their life. see ya on the next chapter where things will begin to unfold ♡

↬ IBF MASTERLIST ↬ ATEEZ MASTERLIST

#seonghwa x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader #seonghwa imagines #san imagines #ateez fics #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #inkedbyfate #dairyminkiwrites #dairyminki_atzsan #dairyminki_atzsh

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petitelepus · 1 month

Text

The Demon Gift: Choosing Hantengu, Part 8

Demon!Slave!Hantengu X Fem!Reader

Summary: It's the day after your passionate night with Hantengu and now his clones want turns with you also and who are you really to say no to them?

Warnings: SMUT, NAUGHTY, SO NAUGHTY, KIDS GO AWAY, BREEDING KINK, NAUGHTY TALK, PREGNANCY KINK MAYBE?

A/N: Demon Slave AU, Domesticated Demons, Reader Insert, Fem!Reader, Hantengu, Master/Slave, Karaku, Sekido, Urogi, Aizetsu

Tags: @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha, @star-dust-wanderer, @karmalizedpixie

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

The night with Hantengu was probably a night you would never forget. You enjoyed the sex and as far as you knew, so did Hantengu, but by the time you had awoken the next day he was gone. You had been confused, but you expected that he might have gone downstairs to eat.

You would have joined him, but you were covered in old sweat and the Demon's cum. So you took a quick shower and dressed up before heading to the kitchen downstairs.

"Morning-!" You were saying as you stepped into the kitchen area, fully expecting to see Hantengu, but your eyes landed on all 4 clones of his.

"Good morning Mistress!" Urogi greeted you excitedly and you nodded back at him, "Morning."

"Had a nice night?" Karaku asked with a wide grin and you rolled your eyes as you walked to the coffee maker and started to prepare coffee how you liked it.

"You guys are part of Hantengu, shouldn't you know by now how it went?" You asked and you heard the Demon of pleasure cackle, "Yeah, we just wanted to hear you say it."

"What, that I had amazing sex with Hantengu? Where is he anyway?" You asked as you turned to properly look at the Demons. The said Demons shared grins, frowns, and looks with each other before Aizetsu looked at you, "The original one is resting, but... Do you think... That we would have a chance with you also?"

"You-!" You were saying when you suddenly remembered how the 4 Demons had some fun with you last night before you had chosen Hantengu as your partner. You blushed a little and thought about your reply, but then your coffee maker peeped, letting you know that the coffee was done.

"Just a second guys," You said as you picked yourself a mug from the cabinet and prepared the coffee the way you liked it, before joining the clones on the table. You managed to take two sips of your coffee before the clones got impatient.

"Well?" Sekido frowned, "What's your reply?"

"Hmm..." You hummed as you thought about it and honestly, you couldn't come up with any reason why you couldn't sleep with them also. They were part of Hantengu after all and you did like them and based on their actions last night, they liked you back just as much if not even more.

"I think I'm okay with it." You finally replied, "I mean... You guys pretty much had me cornered yesterday... But I didn't hate it."

"Felt good, didn't it?" Karaku asked and you blushed a little, but hid it by taking a sip of your coffee, "Yes..."

"When can we have some more fun?" Urogi asked and your blush grew so strong it made your cheeks tingle, "A- any time is fine..."

"Now?" Aizetsu asked and you almost choked on your coffee, "W- Wait, hold on, I just woke up!"

"Today then?" Sekido asked and you almost couldn't believe what you were hearing. It felt a little like you were being interrogated... Not that you minded it that much, but you were a human whose stamina was much lower than Demon's.

"Fi- Fine, but one at a time! I don't know if I can handle all 4 of you at once!" You exclaimed before quietly muttering by yourself, "Not yet anyways..."

"Fine by us!" Urogi laughed and Karaku grinned, "So, when do you want to do it with me?"

"Hold on, why should you get to go first!?" Sekido growled and the green-eyed Demon grinned, "I'm the Demon of pleasure, remember? It's only natural that Mistress would want to sleep with me first!"

"That's not true!" Sekido snapped and very sorry-looking Aizetsu glanced at you, "Which one of us you would prefer first?"

"I'm fine with anyone really." You replied casually as you sipped your coffee, "You guys can decide who gets a turn with me first."

"How are we supposed to agree on that!?" Sekido was losing his cool and you hummed as you thought about it... And after thinking for a second or two, you smiled, "I got it!"

The Demons looked at you curiously as you put your half-empty cup of coffee down so you could search for something to write on. Finally, you found some sticky notes in one drawer and a pencil from another and started to scribble something on the notes.

"Tadaa!" You cheered as you showed the notes to the Demons and they realized that you had written their names on the little pieces of paper.

"What are those for?" Sekido frowned and you grinned as you reached for a bowl from the cabinet.

"It's as simple as can be! I will put your names in the bowl and pick one and whoever I pick gets to..." You blushed a little, "Gets to have their way with me..."

"That..." Aizetsu nodded, "That sounds reasonable."

"Alright, I'm in!" Urogi laughed and Karaku grinned, "I can't lose this one!"

"This better be fair!" Sekido snapped and you cheered quietly as you found a bowl that was big enough. You folded the notes equally small, dropped them on the bowl, and gave them a good mix, closing your eyes to be extra sure that you wouldn't know which note had whose name.

"Okay, does one of you want to hold the bowl so I can't see?" You asked and Aizetsu stepped forward, "I'll do it."

"Thank you," You nodded as you handed the bowl to the Demon of Sorrow, who gave the papers a little mix just to be sure and then held the bowl above your head. You were ready, so you reached up and blindly felt the notes before you picked one.

"Okay, and the first one is...." You blinked, "Urogi!"

"YES!" The Demon of Joy cheered out loud as he fist-pumped the air and the other clones groaned, but it was a fair game so they couldn't exactly complain.

"Congrats Urogi," You clapped your hands as you grumbled the note with his name on it and threw it into the trash, "When do you want to-?"

"Tonight!" The yellow-eyed demon exclaimed, "I want to fuck you tonight!"

"That was quick," You chuckled a little and he smirked, "Oh, trust me, I'm nothing but quick when I get it on!"

"Not what- You know what? Okay," You raised your hands up in surrender, "Tonight, in my room?"

"No, come to mine."

You blinked in confusion but nodded anyway since you had nothing against Urogi's want to fuck in his room. When you were all moving in and choosing your rooms, you had all promised not to go to another one's room without permission. It was kinda like a test of trust and you valued the trust you had with the Demons so you hadn't gone to their rooms.

You trusted them, so you didn't doubt Urogi at all. You were a little unsure what you would walk into. Would he have a nest built there? You were curious to see it with your own two eyes.

"So, guys..." You started as you picked up your earlier coffee and took a sip. Yew, it was cold already. You poured the coffee into the sink and looked at the Demons, "What would you like to do today?"

The day went on as any other day, but there was this feeling hanging in the air around you and the Demons. You were pretty sure it was because later that day, just before nightfall, you and Urogi would fuck. You both knew it as did the rest of the clones.

"Wish me luck guys," You smiled and Urogi laughed as he followed behind you, "She's going to need it!"

"Knowing you, definitely...!" Sekido growled and you couldn't help but snort a little at his jab. You climbed the stairs up and stopped in front of Urogi's door. The Demon grinned as he opened the door and held it open for you, "Ladies first!"

"Even on thin ice," You smiled as you stepped inside. You were actually pretty surprised to see how clean and organized Urogi's room was. Being one of the most chaotic Demons you knew, you were expecting a mess, but he really surprised you.

"Wow, Urogi, your room is really-!" You were saying when the Demon suddenly grabbed you and kissed you hard. You yelped, a little startled and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

It took a second, but you caught up with him and finally kissed him back. Urogi growled against you as he used his claws to rip off your clothes.

"I've been dying to do that the whole day...!" The Demon said as he kissed you.

"Urogi..." You panted against his lips, but he just smirked, "Hold still...!"

And you did because you knew that one wrong move could end up with you getting hurt. The Demon undressed you quickly, leaving you naked before him. You blushed, feeling a little embarrassed by your sudden nudity, and moved to cover yourself with your hands.

"Aww, why would you do that?" Urogi asked with a devious smile, "I've already seen you naked, remember? There is nothing I haven't seen."

"I, uh..." Now you felt just silly, covering as if you were still untouched, "You're right."

"Well..." He smirked, "Almost nothing."

You blinked, wondering what he meant, but the Demon quickly picked you up like you weighed nothing and threw you on his bed. You yelped as you bounced on the soft mattress and Urogi followed quickly after you, but he didn't climb on top of you like you expected.

"Open your legs," He ordered and you blushed, "Urogi-!"

"Up up! My night, my rules!"

You pouted a little as your cheeks burned, but you slowly spread your legs open, showing him yourself as you were.

"Yes, just like that...!" Urogi grinned almost manically, "You're so gorgeous!"

How could you resist his compliments? You weren't the prettiest there was, but just like Hantengu, Urogi seemed to think otherwise. All this was so new and exciting...

"Play with yourself." He said and you blinked, stunned "Wait, what?"

"I can't touch you like I want to with my talons," He replied as he showed you his avian hands and sharp claws, "Unless you wanna risk it?"

You trusted Urogi, you really did, so you trusted that what he was saying was true. He knew his limits and what he could and couldn't do. You had to admire that, because any other guy would have probably ignored your safety, but not him.

So as embarrassed as you were, you slipped your hand between your legs and started to play with yourself. Slowly, you were getting more and more into it and you started to moan as your fingers grew wet with your juices. Urogi's yellow eyes were absolutely gleaming in joy and excitement as he watched you play with yourself.

"Good, now fuck yourself with them...!"

"Ngh..." You whined as you inserted your fingers one by one inside you and started to thrust and twist them in a way you enjoyed most. You were getting even wetter and each thrust made these embarrassing squelching sounds, but those seemed to excite Urogi even more.

"Alright, that's enough!" He snapped suddenly.

"Give me your hand. I want to taste you." He ordered and you nodded as you pulled your fingers out of your sex and offered the glistening digits to him. Urogi grinned gleefully as he grasped your wrist and wrapped his lips around your fingers, licking and sucking them clean.

"You taste so good...!" He moaned as he let you pull your fingers back, "I want to taste you more!"

That was the only warning you got before the Demon got on his knees between your legs and buried his face into your sex.

"Urogi!" You cried out his name as his hot tongue lapped your wet sex. Your legs almost snapped shut, but he wrapped his hands around your thighs as carefully as he could in the heat of the moment and held them open as he ate you out.

"So good...!" He moaned against you, making your hips buck into his mouth, "So responsive! It's so cute!"

"Urogi please...!" You moaned his name, not fully knowing what you were begging for. More? Release? Mercy? But just as you started to feel that coil in your tummy tighten, the Demon pulled away before you could come.

"Urogi!" You cried out desperately and the fiend had the guts to laugh merrily, "Oh, you're so cute when you're needy!"

"Please...!" You whined, not caring how pitiful you sounded, "I'm so close..."

"Good!" He laughed as he grabbed your hips, minding his claws, and pulled you against him, his cock slapping your sex as he positioned himself, "Because I'm going to put a baby in you!"

"Please Urogi- Wait, what?" You blinked and he smirked as he thrust his cock into you with one hard thrust and you threw your head back as you cried out. You felt so glad he had you prepare yourself because he was huge...!

"Urogi...!" You moaned and he smirked as he used his hold on your hips for leverage and started to eagerly fuck you. You were moaning and whining like a bitch in heat and it made the Demon so happy.

"How does it sound? I bet if I came inside you I would most likely get you pregnant!" He laughed and you whimpered as your sex clenched around him. Somehow, the idea of pregnancy was so erotic...? You never thought about it, about offspring, but now this damn Demon had planted that idea in your mind and your body was acting according to it.

"Oh, you just got tighter! Do you like that? The idea of carrying a filthy slave's Demon child?"

His dirty talk was so filthy, it was erotic and he had you clenching on him harder and harder. Once he noticed how much his words aroused you, he couldn't stop himself from talking.

"Yes, I can already see you!" Urogi cackled almost manically, "So big and round, just full of our Demons...!"

"Urogi...!" You whined his name like it was your personal mantra.

"And I wouldn't stop for one, no, I want a whole pack of little bastards running around!"

"Close...!" You whined pitifully as you were getting close to a release and the Demon didn't seem to be in any better shape than you. You were so cute and sexy, and responsive, who wouldn't want to shoot their load inside you?

"I'm going to come inside! Are you going to be a good Mistress to me and make a baby for me?"

"Ngh- YA...!" You couldn't control yourself anymore, you came with a loud wail, and your sex milked Urogi's cock, eager for his cum. Nothing could have stopped the Demon from coming inside you and as he came, he cackled manically, his wings flaring behind him.

You could feel him coming, his cock shooting cum inside you and there was so much of it, you almost felt bloated. Urogi kept thrusting into you languidly as he emptied himself all the way inside you. Finally, he pulled his cock out of you, and with that out of the way, his cum leaked out of your sex as fat drops.

"Shit, you look so sexy right now!" He laughed and you dared to doubt him. You were sweaty, messy, and dripping cum. You groaned, "I doubt that..."

"I'm not lying, I could easily fuck you again and again!"

"Mercy... Give me a moment to rest...!" You whimpered pitifully and the Demon grunted as he grounded his sharp teeth together, "If you act that way you can expect another load in you soon!"

"Rest first. Then more sex." You said as you made yourself comfortable on the huge bed. Urogi chuckled a little under his breath, but made himself comfortable next to you, resting on his stomach so his wings wouldn't get in the way.

As the two of you rested, you started to wonder if there was a hint of truth in his earlier dirty talk and you got a little worried. You liked children, but you weren't sure if you were ready to have one yourself!

"H- hey...?" You started carefully and Urogi hummed, "Hm? What is it, sweetcheeks?"

"I can't get pregnant, right?" You asked and the Demon turned to look at you and smiled, "I don't think so?"

"Wait, you don't know?!" You gasped and he shrugged lazily, "It never crossed my mind, but I doubt it."

"But-!"

"Have you really heard about people getting impregnated by Demons?" He asked back and you frowned as you thought about it... And you hadn't? However, very few humans had sex with Demons and actually admitted it. The whole thing was really taboo.

"No...?" You thought out loud with a little voice and he grinned, "There you go, doesn't that answer your question?"

"So... Why all the dirty talk about babies and pregnancy?" You asked carefully, "Do you actually want kids?"

"Nah, it's just something that gives me some wind under my wings and gets me going." The Demon rolled on his side and grinned at you, "Also, the idea of you pregnant is hot as Hell."

"Me? Pregnant? Sexy?" You couldn't really believe what you were hearing and chuckled, "I'm not gonna get kids!"

"Ever?" He asked and you shrugged, "I'm not saying never, but who knows?"

"Because if you do, I will gladly offer to fuck you while your tummy grows!"

"You're awful!" You laughed as you gently slapped his shoulder and Urogi chuckled. Your moaning and crying were sexy as Hell, but it was your laughter that was addicting.

52 notes · View notes

earl-grey-teacake · 2 months

Note

Hii, I'm a fan of ur BabyLoscar!AU, and there is one of your headcanons that lives rent-free in my head: Logan's first step, if you could write what Toto and Lewis' reaction was like when they saw George arrive crying, or Alex comforting Logan when George left I appreciate it, I love your AU (sorry if there is anything misspelled, I'm not a native English speaker)

Thank you so much!!!

I always love your asks! They are so much fun and so cute!🥰

You're English is great, please don't worry. I couldn't settle for one or the other so I wrote a full fic on it instead!❤️

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55010800

*******

“Do you want Nando’s for dinner? Alex asked, staring at their empty fridge.

“Yeah, that should be fine.” George wandered around the house and packing items into his backpack.

“Dada! Dada!” Logan chanted, pulling himself up using the dining table leg.

He was on his way to taking his first step but his balance left much to be desired. Logan usually ended up falling when he lifts his foot off the floor but it didn’t stop him from trying.

“Hey Logie!” George zipped up his backpack and sat down next to him, pulling Logan into a hug.

“Dada!” Logan clapped his hands together and cheered.

“Yeah, that’s me!” George beamed and hugged him even tighter.

“Whose that?” George pointed to Alex.

“Dada! Dada!”

“Yeah, that’s right. You’re so smart!” George kissed him on the cheek and tickled him, causing peals of laughter and Logan wiggling himself onto the floor.

“You should get going George. Toto won’t be happy if you’re late.” Alex opened the closet to get his husband’s coat out.

“But I don’t want to leave my family,” George fake-sulked.

“Well your Mercedes salary is what pays for our Monaco apartment so you better get going.”

“Very well then. I have to go make money to spoil my beautiful family.” George dramatically sighed and as put on his jacket.

“Dada! Dada!” Logan yelled upon seeing his dad put on his coat and shoes. He knew what that means. It meant his dad was leaving and he wouldn’t be seeing him for a very long time, long for a baby at least.

“Bye, Logie. I’ll be home for dinner.” George smiled and waved.

“Dada! Dada!” Logan called out again. He didn’t want his dad to leave. He wanted to play and watch races. He had to grab onto him. If he grabbed onto him, then he couldn’t leave.

“Oh my god, Alex are you seeing this? Get the camera!” George gasped. “Come here Logie. Yeah, come here.”

1 step. 2 steps. 3 steps. A total of 6 rough, stumbling steps before he grabbed onto George’s leg and looked up with a bright smile. “Dada!”

“Oh, Logie!” George sat down on the hardwood floor and pulled his son into a tight hug “You were so good! I’m so proud of you!”

“Dada!” Logan turned to Alex and made grabby hands, leading him to put his phone down and join the hug.

“You’re so smart! Look at you, learning to walk already.” Alex beamed.

“Yeah, I remember when you were just learning how to crawl.” George started to tear up, remembering how when Logan was learning how to crawl and how he would get tired and flop on the middle of the floor until someone picked him up.

“I know. Soon he’ll be running around and we’ll have to chase after it.” Alex joked.

“Don’t say that,” George cried. “He’s growing up too quickly.”

“Aw, Georgie,” Alex laughed. “It’ll be okay. Besides, you need to get going. You’re going to be late.”

“Oh, yeah. I should get going.” George quickly wiped his eyes and stood up, Logan still clinging to his leg. “Logie, I‘ll be back home soon, okay?”

Logan clung even tighter, as if he had the strength to stop his dad from going. This wasn't the deal. If Logan held on, that meant George couldn't go. That's how it works. “Come on Logie, let go.”

Alex bent down and tried to remove Logan’s arms. “AHHHH!”

“I know, baby.” Alex tried to sympathize and console him but Logan was having none of it. Instead he proceeded to scream and cry, his arms reaching out for George. “You should get going, I can handle him.”

“AHHHH!”

It hurt, it ached knowing his baby just wanted to be with him and he couldn’t. George dashed out and closed the door, even though the crying could be heard through it.

“AHHHH!”

Logan was just a baby but he won’t be a baby for long. He’s already growing so fast. Alex was right, soon he’ll be able to walk and then run and soon he’ll be running away from them. He’ll start karting and go off to follow his own dreams and they won’t be able to follow him.

George clicked on the car touch screen and called Alex.

“Hello?” His husband’s voice came on the other side as well as the sound of soft sobbing.

“How is Logan? Is he okay?”

“George are you crying?”

“No.” George croaked out as he furiously wiped his tears.

"Please don't cry too much. You are driving."

"I'm not crying. Is Logan okay? Is he still upset? I'm so sorry I left you alone to deal with it."

“George, he’s okay. Don’t worry. He’s just crying into your pillow right now. He’ll get over it by the time dinner starts.”

A muffled cry of "Dada" cut through their call and George felt like a monster. What kind of father leaves their child after their first step?

“Can you tell him I’m sorry? I didn’t want to leave. I would go home and play with him if I could. I don’t want him to hate me.”

“Georgie, it’s okay. You’re busy. He doesn’t hate you.” George could tell Alex was smiling at him, pitying his poor husband.

“It’s just he’s so little but he’s growing so fast. I didn’t even get to celebrate his first step. What if I miss out on other stuff?”

“Georgie, Logan won’t hold it against it. Besides it happens, we lead busy lives.”

“I know.” George sighed. “Anyways, I have to let you go Alex. I’m pulling up to the factory. Tell Logan I love him.”

“I will, take care. I’ll see you soon.”

He couldn't take the image of Logan reaching his arms out for him and crying as he put his shoes on and shut the door. He was the worst father in the world. As he was getting out of the car, he opened his phone and came face to face with the wallpaper. Logan in Alex's arm and dressed in a Mercedes onesie with a bright smile aimed at the camera, it was taken during the first month they had Logan.

He was so small and shy and clung to George all the time. He was so light and tiny back then. This elicited a fresh wave of tears as George struggled to get out of the car and to the meeting on time. He had done his best to wipe his tears away but he was unsure if it did anything.

"Come on baby, it'll be okay" Alex rubbed Logan's back as he continued to sob into the pillow after the phone call.

"Dada! Dada!" Logan's cries were muffled but it was obvious that his father betrayal in the morning had hit hard. He fought so hard for his dad not to leave, he clung so tightly and only to have the door shut in his face.

"I know. I know you miss him but he has to go to work." Logan only proceeded to cry harder.

"Aw, Logie." Logan's face was scrunched up and red with fat tears flowing down.

"How about we watch videos of Dada? Is that okay?" Alex sat closer and pulled Logan in so that he was sitting up.

Alex pulled up a Youtube compilation of George's best moments and placed the phone between them. As the first clip popped up, the "Is anyone reporting rain?" clip, Logan yelled.

"Dada! Dada!" He knew the radio message color and the helmet.

"Yeah, that's Dada." Alex laughed.

Every single clip, Logan could spot George and was so eager to point it out as if Alex did not know it was George and with each clip, his mood slowly became happier and happier. His father's betrayal long forgotten.

"Mate, are you okay?"

"George, what happened?"

Toto and Lewis were alarmed as George walked into the meeting with his eyes red and his face puffy. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"What happened, George?" Toto pushed. Even over a race, he's never looked this upset before. In fact, George looked absolutely devastated.

"It's-It's nothing. It's just Logan-"

"Is he okay?" Lewis asked alarmed. Logan was the darling of the Mercedes garage and it was no secret that he was very spoiled by the team.

"Is he ill?" Toto chimed in.

"He's fine. He took his first step today." George choked out.

"Oh, congratulations." Toto tentatively congratulated. "Is there something wrong with him taking his first step?"

"No, no. I'm so proud of him. I just- I had to leave him right after. He was crying for me and it just got to me." George wiped his eyes, trying to regain a modicum of emotional stability.

"Hey man, it's okay. It must have been hard to leave him right after." Lewis attempted to console him.

"I-I just didn't expect to grow up so quickly. He was just learning how to crawl yesterday and now he's walking around." George eyes started to water again.

Toto understood. He had a young child and often had to leave him in order to run the team. Coming back home and finding out your kid had grown up in the time you were gone was one of the hardest things about working in Formula 1.

"What if he hates me for it?" George whispered.

The comment took the two by surprised. Anyone who met Logan knew that Logan adored George. He adored George so much that he clings to him before races and has to be pried off.

"Logan adores you and you love him. He could never hate you. You know that." Lewis placed a comforting hand on George's shoulder.

George stood outside the door, contemplating if he had it in him to go in.

Could he stand going in and possibly being rejected by Logan?

Could he put up with Logan still being angry at him?

Logan adores you and you love him. He could never hate you. You know that.

George took a deep breath and unlocked the door, only to find the house was quiet. Alex's car was still in the driveway so it was unlikely they had gone off to run an errand.

"Alex?" George called out.

"Logan?" George walked to the living room, only to see the play area devoid of it's intended guest.

George walked around until he came to the bedroom. Gently pushing the door open, he saw his new wallpaper photo. Alex and Logan asleep on the bed with Logan curled up on his pillow. Quickly taking a photo, he gently crawl into bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping occupants.

As if sensing him, Logan rolled onto his side to be closer to George and hugged his arm.

"He wouldn't stop asking for you. He missed you," Alex murmured sleepily.

"I missed him too." George smiled.

*********

THANK YOU FOR READING!❤��

#f1 rpf #f1 rpf fic #logan sargeant #galex #alex albon #george russell #baby!logan

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angel-of-the-moons · 4 months

Text

Running With The Wolves

Wolfwalker!Moon Knight (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You're on the verge of being labeled a witch, but can one handsome stranger (and his two "brothers") save you from the same cruel fate as your mother, who was labeled as one and burned at the stake?

Can you handle the truth about your heroes identities, despite it all? Would you find out who your masked savior truly was beneath his cloak?

Only you could answer that.

TW/CW: Witch hunts, violence, graphic violence, graphic death, blood, public execution, parental death, persecution, grief, depression, Wolfwalkers AU, Moon Knight AU, incorrect lore

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I was watching Wolfwalkers and it gave me the idea for the boys. I did a little research into the lore, so some will be inaccurate (my pagan ancestors would frown upon me lmao) as well as historically inaccurate; so what is in this fic is largely based on the film. It will be especially inaccurate because y'know, Marc is American and Jake is Spanish and Steven is English etc, as well as Khonshu being around (but in the comics he's had a Viking Moon Knight so this isn't too far fetched he'd be in a place like Ireland) so please bear with me, my poor mind has been going through it lately and I wanted to write somethin' pointless, so enjoy this weird ass AU I came up with! (Header does not indicate the reader's race!)

Taglist: @enheduannasposts

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PT. 1

"I heard tha's the girl who lives on the outskirts." You heard a young woman whisper to her friend. Her accent was clearly not from Ireland. She sounded like one of the people from England. They'd been arriving slowly but surely, like a trickle from a leaky bucket, since you were a child.

Your skin prickled as you looked over the vegetables in the market stall, tended to by an old woman who was blind in one eye. Mary, her name was. Mary was probably one of the only around here who was kind to everyone, unless they gave her a reason not to. And those two English girls certainly gave her a reason...

"Aye, ye two hussies best be leav'n this girl be!" She spat, waving her old wooden stick around. "She 'ent done nothin' to ye!"

The two women jumped back with a yelp and scurried off, an armored guard eyeing you and Mary warily.

Your nose crinkled at him and you turned your nose up as you looked back at the crop Mary was selling.

"I'm sorry, lass. I don't like 'em either." Mary said, winking her blind eye at you.

You can't help but smile as you trade some herbs for the vegetables, placing the juicy morsels into your basket. "I just would like for things to go back to the way they were." You sighed.

"Like when I was a girl, before they came to our town. Things were fine, everything was in balance."

Mary leaned in, holding a finger to the sky as she spoke quietly to you.

"Aye, lass. But don't worry. The crimes these English folk are doin' to us? They'll be payin', mark my words! The land, the very sky itself is angry because we can't honor the promises we made so long ago." She grinned, half her teeth missing from old age. "Then, maybe we'll be forgiven."

"Aye, or maybe be consumed by the wolves and the forest while we're at it." You smile sadly. You remembered being safe in those woods as a girl, playing in the creeks, chasing birds and hares, the wolves singing on the breeze...

But the wolf attacks have become ever so common, now. None had been bitten, but their homes had been trashed, their livestock spirited away into the cover of night, wolf tracks everywhere. You were the only one whose homestead was spared. You often wondered why. The only thing different between your little plot and the rest of the homes that were driven empty was... wait.

They were all English.

You weren't. That house you lived in had belonged to your family for nearly half a century. The English farmsteads were placed on the grounds that were cleared by the King's woodcutters and soldiers, they were the ones being attacked. Not you.

But lately, you've heard other tales as well. A "devil in white" the King's men would ramble, their voices shrill with fear. A man in white armor who moved like a ghost, and fought like hell itself. You paid no mind, figuring it may be some hermetic hunter who called the forest home, who simply didn't want to have them invade his solitude.

Maybe--

"Lass, you should get home." Mary said, looking at you with worry as a small gaggle of women whispered and pointed at you. You were used to the stares, you'd been getting them as a child. But since the English arrived, those whispers became accusations.

"Witch."

Your mother had faced a similar accusation, given her odd habits and ways of whispering to the wind.

Some considered her addled, even moreso when she began raving of spirits and the voices she said came from the ground.

You remembered the night that she died, the horrible, evil way that she left this world.

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You were only twelve years old, gripped hard by the local men as the bishop to your village spoke from the Bible, quoting things about the crimes of witchcraft and how your mother could only be cleansed by fire.

You screamed, and kicked, and cried and cursed, but all that earned you was a punch to the gut as they lit the kindling beneath your mother's feet.

You'd heard tales of witch burnings, but you'd never ever thought such horrible deeds would come to your town; your safe, warm little home.

Your mother was strange, yes, but she taught you many things that had proven useful. The best herbs to cure the worst fever, the best tonics to drink to cure an ailing cough, how to track in the woods, how to trust the forest to show you the way home; but only if you respected it as a living being, and respected the souls who lived within.

She wasn't a "witch" to you.

She was your mother.

And she was right in front of you, burning.

"Mummy!" You screamed, your voice sounding as though you swallowed shards of pottery.

She looked at you, and smiled, crying and struggling against the ropes that bound her to the stake.

The fire crept up, up, until it reached her feet.

You could smell it--the acrid, disgusting stench of oil and burning flesh. You could see her skin blister, peel, and burn away as she screamed, begged for mercy. Mercy that the church was not willing to grant her.

You screamed and cried until your throat was raw and bloody, struggling until you broke free of the men's arms.

You didn't think twice on it--you leapt towards the pyre.

Your mother was dead. You knew this. But all you wanted was to hold her one last time, even if all that was left now was blackened, charred flesh.

Your soft, delicate hands burned, your dress beginning to catch aflame as you desperately tried to reach for what little remained of the woman you loved most in the world.

The pain was so blinding, so debilitating that your vision went white around the edges, and you saw the world begin to go dark.

"Damn it--put the girl out!" Was the last thing that you heard before you lost consciousness.

When you'd awoke, it had been two whole days since your mother's trial and burning. Two days since she plead to the "court" about how they were treating the land; that if they didn't change their ways they would all suffer for it.

The first face you saw was the bishop looking down at you with a solemn and sad expression, completely different from the way his eyes had gleamed maniacally as he cheered the death of your mother.

"I'm sorry, dear girl." He said kindly, resting a hand on your shoulder.

Your arms and hands were wrapped in clean linen--or, well, as clean as they could get it, anyway--your burns itching and painful.

You gritted your teeth, feeling hot tears burn as you glared at him, your throat still raw and aching.

"You killed her!" You meant to yell, but it only came out a hoarse croak.

"Aye, girl, I did. But I took no pleasure in it."

Liar. Filthy, disgusting liar! You wanted to shout, You smiled when she screamed!

"Your mother was bewitched by the devil, don't you see? The only way to ensure she could make it to heaven was if she was cleansed by fire." He told you, his wrinkled eyes looking at you with such gentleness you could almost scarcely believe this was your beloved mother's executioner.

"At least now, you know your mother made it to the gates of heaven. And hopefully God finds it in Him to grant your mother eternal peace." He continued, "After all, she loved you greatly, and there is nothing more pure than a mother's love. Even if it was the love of a witch."

You bite back bile that wanted to rise--partly from the pain, partly from disgust--and turned your head away, your tears heavy like chains that hung from your lashes and held your eyes closed.

"So hopefully, we can pray she found salvation and forgiveness in the fact she loved you so."

His hand brushed a lock of burnt hair from your face.

"Don't worry, girl... You can go home. But I must implore you not to give in to the teachings your mother no doubt gave you. None of that talking trees or animals nonsense, you hear?"

You wanted to kick him, to bite his disgusting fingers off and pluck out his eyes. But... all you did was nod, and say:

"I understand."

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Later that night, barring the English women's gossip, you'd had a fairly decent day. Your snare on the edge of the forest had gotten a nice hare; providing you with some nice soft fur and meat and bone.

You'd spent your days thereafter doing much of the same work you'd done since you returned to your empty home the week your mother died. You gardened, placed more snares, cleaned the house, worked the loom, began weaving a small tapestry.

One night, you were broken from your tedium by heavy hands on your door, making you yelp and prick yourself with a needle.

You stuck your bloody fingertip in your mouth and stuffed the tapestry into your heavy wooden chest, rushing to your front door to see what was the trouble.

When you opened it, there was the bishop, flanked by two men in heavy plate armor. You felt a shiver creep up your spine; the sight was eerily similar to the night your mother was taken away, only this time the bishop looked so ancient he looked like a piece of dried, brittle leather.

"Dear girl, thank God you're alright." The bishop breathed, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder.

Your brow creased, and you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to cut you off.

"That... That man, that devil whom the townsfolk here and elsewhere have been seeing--he was here. Tonight! He killed four of the King's finest men!" He said, panicked, his touch cold and clammy.

"And earlier in the day... wolves. A pack of white wolves! I feared for you, girl. I know that you're alone and so far from town." He shuddered a breath. His lungs sounded awful, even to your ears. Honestly... If the man had allowed it, you could have fixed his long coughing illness. He's been suffering for years with it, sometimes to the point where his surmons had to be delivered by proxy.

He was suffering... but so had your mother, whom he murdered in the name of his god.

Your jaw was tight, and you nodded. "I... I see. I haven't been attacked yet, sir. B-but I will keep an eye out and alert you if I see anything strange."

You wouldn't.

"I don't want that devil to hurt anyone else."

You hoped he chased them all away.

He mistook your shaky voice for one of mutual fear for the man that haunted the nights, like the dreaded vampires back in England and the smaller towns and villages.

"Yes, dear girl." He put his hand to your cheek and smiled, his aged features twisting in agony. "A good girl. May God protect you."

"And He, you." You replied, the words tasting like rotten meat on your tongue.

"Such a good girl." He turned, coughing into his hand. "May God help civilise this land..."

Thunder boomed in the distance, almost as if the very sky itself was urging the cruel men on their way, to leave you be.

As soon as your door was closed, you grabbed a nearby cauldron and heaved it over to your hearth, hanging it from the iron hook and dumping the pail of water into it to boil.

You hastily stripped your clothes free and dumped them into the cauldron, rushing to find your small bottles of tonics.

When you'd found the ones you needed, you dumped them, alongside fresh herbs, into the pot with your soaking clothes.

You knew, based on your own observations, that those who coughed often spread it through touch or spit. And he had coughed into his hands and touched you; you simply don't want to take the risk.

You had to start selling your healing tonics "under the table" as Mary said, as cleaning agents for clothes and blankets just so you could pass it to the townsfolk with sick family. You hated doing that, but seeing a sickly child able to run around with her siblings again without fear of that wretched cough was worth the pain of lying.

You watched as the water bubbled, standing naked as you poked at the fabric with your long wooden spoon, swirling it around and around.

Once you deemed it hot enough, you carefully picked up the cauldron and set it on your stone slab at the mouth of your hearth, you scooped some of the herbal water into your wash bucket and began scrubbing at your clothes mercilessly to rid it of any possible sickness.

Once they were clean enough, you hung them near the fire to dry (but not close enough to catch fire while you were asleep).

You felt goosebumps chill your skin as the wind rattled your shutters, so you grabbed a heavy woolen blanket to wrap yourself up in while you dug around for a new linen dress to put on.

It was a small comfort, given how early in the year it was, and these certain storms always brought unseasonably cold weather in their shadow, but you accepted it nonetheless.

You walked over to your wooden chest and pulled out your half-finished tapestry. It was one your mother started when you were barely hip-height; your father, strong and large, next to your mother, petite and soft. Interconnecting between them was you, holding their larger hands in your tiny ones.

Much of it was unfinished, and only within the last year did your grief finally allow you to finish what she started, as this was the only thing left that you had of her. When the church took her away, your mother knew they were coming, so she hid certain things out in the woods for safekeeping, only telling you their whereabouts. Once the church lifted it's eye from you one autumn day, you finally ran out into the clearing your mother hid her things in.

Being able to have something to visually remember your parents by wrenched your heart in a bittersweet way, but it was all you had of them, other than their rings you wore, hidden and slung low beneath your bodice so nobody would see.

You knew if the bishop found out... He would have them all destroyed, burned like your mother; and he would likely have you thrown into the stocks and publicly lashed as punishment.

In a twisted way, the bishop cared for you. He saw you as an innocent, God-fearing girl who had been brainwashed by your witch mother, whom only acknowledged the paganistic "Old Ways".

You hated having to keep up the act, but you didn't want to die. You owed it to your mother and father, wherever their souls were together, to live on.

You blinked, and a heavy teardrop splashed down onto the tapestry.

Your body jolted with the clap of thunder. How long had you been crying? Had you been crying this whole time, but didn't realize it? Oh, you hated how often these crying fits would strike you.

All you wanted to do was think of the happy times with your family, but it always came back to the fact that they were dead and you were alone.

You dropped back onto your bed, the old, dried wood creaking beneath your weight, the smell of the straw mattress stuffed with dried flowers and clovers soothing to your senses.

Your eyes felt heavy, weighted down from your painful thoughts, and you turned your head to look at the wreath above your bed, shamrocks with dried berries carefully strung together; it was something your mother taught you. You couldn't remember the significance of the thing, but making them when you were bored became a mundane comfort.

You closed your eyes and sighed heavily.

You would need to check your snares in the morning.

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Your leather shoes squelched in the mud as you carefully made your way to the treeline early that next morning. You nervously chewed the inside of your cheek to check if the coast was clear before venturing into the bushes.

It was early enough none had arisen yet to start the day, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon as you set off into the forest.

Yes, setting your traps beyond the treeline was dangerous, as they would tell you, but you knew the game in the woods was fat and ripe, perfectly full of meat. If you could hunt at all, you would try your aim at shooting one of those slovenly bucks with a bow and arrow.

But a hunter you were not. Trap-maker, yes. But no hunter.

Your tiny iron dagger was slung low on your hip, your mostly-empty wooden sack carrying fresh bait for any snares that were sprung, or if the bait had been snatched.

The first two traps hadn't been sprung, but picked clean, most likely by birds and quick-witted squirrels. No luck in catching anything.

But as you neared your final trap, you heard an odd noise. A wheezing sound, almost, followed by heavy pants and a whimper.

Your footsteps stopped as you peered around the thick trunk of an ancient tree, your breath catching in your throat as you looked at the sight in front of you.

It was your last snare, set up with some bread and berries to lure in a rabbit or squirrel (as was your typical game) but it seems that this time, somehow... you snagged a wolf.

And this was not a normal wolf; it was one with fur as white as the coldest snow, now muddied and stained from the soggy ground it flailed around in; your snare secured firmly around its neck and front paw, cinching the two together in a painful manner.

Your heart broke as you saw the creature struggle and wheeze, choking out quiet howls that couldn't be heard through the underbrush.

With your jaw set tight, you stepped out of the clearing, and the wolf turned to you, trying to limp away.

"Shhh, hush, now." You soothe the animal, your hands out in front of you as you got lower, trying to seem less threatening.

Yes, the townsfolk feared wolves, but you wouldn't just leave this beautiful creature to slowly strangle to death on one of your own traps; your soul wouldn't be able to handle the weight of guilt.

"I won't hurt you, sweetie." You say, your voice calm and soft as you reached out.

The wolf snapped tentatively at you, whimpering as the pain of the cord dug further into its throat and paw, red stains now blotching the white fur.

"It's all right. I won't hurt you..." You urge the panicked animal. Your own eyes locked with its dark brown ones, and you could almost hear its thoughts plead:

Help me. Please. It hurts. Please!

You wait for the wolf to still, and sit its haunches on the ground, those big, pained eyes staring right through to your very soul.

Once the wolf is calm, you hook your fingers through the snare, reaching for the part of it that looped around, and try to loosen it enough for it to slip free.

But to no avail, the amount of flailing the wolf had done had twisted and cinched it to the point you couldn't. Your brow pinched and you nervously chewed the inside of your cheek before unsheathing your dagger.

Upon seeing the glint of the blade, the wolf whimpered and panicked again, beginning to flail once more as you reached for it.

"No!" You say, frantically trying to calm the beast. "Stop! You're making it worse! Please--I'm not going to hurt you."

You grunt as you leap forward, crushing the wolf against you in a bear hug, trying to calm its thrashing body as you swing your sharpened blade through the cord, severing it from the branch it was tethered to.

You sliced your thumb in an attempt to cut the cord around its throat, but you somehow managed it, your blood leaving fresh streaks of red and pink through the wolf's surprisingly soft fur.

You drop your dagger and release the animal, falling back on your bum as you carefully crawl away as the canine heaved for uninhibited air, its barreled chest shaking with effort.

Once it had collected itself, it limped up to you, it cut paw hanging an inch or two above the ground as its wet, charcoal black nose sniffed at your wounded thumb.

Its pink tongue laved out and lapped up your blood, as if to say "sorry" for causing you to injure yourself for trying to aid it.

Your eyes however, were drawn to the cuts into the wolf's throat and paw, oozing small rivulets of blood as it stared at you.

"Oh... You poor..." You breathed, rising to kneel on your knees, dirtying your skirt even more.

"I... Those can get infected. Please. I... I can help you..."

You don't know why you were trying to bargain with an animal, but somehow it paid off. The wolf nosed its way into your lap, ears flattened up and eyes pleading up at you.

"Okay..." You murmur, scratching behind one of its ears. "Let's get you home, boy. I have stuff there that can help ya."

The wolf whimpered.

"Er... Well, I assume you're male?" You chuckle awkwardly, trying to think of how to carry this large and hefty animal back home without being seen.

"I'm not gonna violate you by takin' a peek or anything." You clear your throat when one of the wolf's ears flop as "he" tilts his head at you.

"Er. Okay. Let's go..."

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It was easier than you thought, getting him back home. As the sun crept higher, the fog and mist were your ally as you smuggled the "dangerous" animal back to the safety of your home.

You had to haul him over your shoulders and beat feet through the underbrush. Once you were safely inside, you had to (with great difficulty) maneuver the wolf down onto your bed.

You chuckled when he rolled over--and he was most definitely a "he"--and began rolling this way and that into your blankets, making small huffs and growls.

"Ah-ah..." You murmur, reaching out to brush your hand through his muddy fur. "You might make your injuries worse, 'kay, m'love?"

That seems to get the wolf's attention. You weren't sure if he could understand you, which honestly had you thinking you were crazy, but the way he sat up and stared at you, one ear flopping down as he looked up into your eyes sent a strange feeling through your body.

"Hmm..." You murmur, brushing your fingers tentatively around his wounded throat. From his muddy thrashing he'd accumulated a fair amount of dirt, and that would lead to infection.

You hike your skirts up and tie them around your waist, and you could almost swear you saw a look of modesty cross the wolf's eyes as his ears slicked back against his head and he buried his muzzle into your warm blankets.

You scratch the back of your head, a little confused at his reaction as you adjust your knickers and rush to gather your herbs you'd need, plucking dried leaves and roots that hung above your hearth.

You set the herbs down into your mortar and pestle and begin to grind them down, mixing them evenly into a dissolvable mass that would melt in the water once you'd boiled it.

You crack your knuckles and grab a pail, untying your skirts and smoothing them out, frowning at the mud stains as you reach for your door, making a "shush" gesture to the wolf.

"Stay quiet and don't go near the windows! It's dangerous if you're seen." You gently urge him before slipping outside into the morning light once again.

The trek to the well was always annoying, but your neighbors never minded you coming to fetch water, knowing how dangerous it could possibly be for you to hike to the creek at the edge of the forest just to get yourself some of the life-giving liquid.

You inwardly cringed when the Kenny's daughter, Aisling, was already at the well; her belly already round with her unborn child. Barely 19 years of age and she was already with a babe; she was often sickly as a child, this you remembered, so her family (namely her husband) was very concerned about her well-being and that of her impending birth.

Upon seeing you approach, Aisling smiled widely and waved at you, saying your name chipperly, almost like an excited morning bird.

You were really hoping not to have a conversation so early, afraid someone would know you were harboring a wolf inside your home...

"Hello, Aisling. Feeling well this morning?" You hum innocently at her as you tie your pail up, before cranking the wench and lowering it down to the water below.

"Yes, surprisingly!" She giggled, patting her belly with a soft smile. "M' little one decided it was a good day to let mummy keep food down."

"That's good! I still recommend broths if you feel nauseous, however..."

"I know, I know. My mum is constantly making sure of that." She sighed with a roll of her eyes, hooking her own two pails of water onto her yoke.

Your hairs raised and you reached out, the wench slipping from your hands and your bucket dropping all the way back down into the water below the earth.

"No! You mustn't lift something that heavy." You caution. "It's not good for your baby."

"Ohhh! You sound like my father." She sighs, frowning deeply, her hands on her hips. "I'm not helpless, y'know!"

"Yes, I'm aware, but--"

"Aisling!" Her husband panted, trotting up to the both of you. He was at least a decade or so older than she was, but nonetheless it was a good match; he seemed to love her greatly. He was English, and one of the few kind ones you've known, in fact. A gentle giant.

This fact was emphasized when his large bulky hand reached down to touch her belly, sighing with relief. "No, no, you know that you can't be out here alone! The wolves!"

"I 'ent seen no wolves!" Aisling pouted up at him.

"That doesn't mean no wolves see you, m'love." He sighed dejectedly at her. He gives you a kind smile and a nod, hoisting the yoke over his own shoulders, "Aye, lass. Glad to see someone else talking some sense into my pretty little wife, here..."

"Bah!" Aisling scoffed, throwing her arms in the air as she waddled back down to their house.

He shook his head with a chuckle, "I swear, if we have a girl and she turns out like her..."

"You'll have your hands full, alright." You sigh, cranking the wench again.

"Aye." He says, giving you a cautious look. "But, I must warn you, the same way I did Aisling... with these wolves about, it's dangerous..."

"I know." You smile. "I'll be fine."

"Alright..." He replies, giving you one last look before going back home to his wife and family.

You on the other hand, rushed back home with your water to your waiting furry companion...

You almost dropped the pail of water when you saw what he was doing. Somehow he managed to nose open up the chest containing your mother's things, and was insistently sniffing the tapestry.

"Ah! No, no, no!" You frantically say, setting the water down to rush over, gently shoving his snout to the side to close the chest.

"Gah..." You sigh in relief, and smile softly at the wolf, reaching out to pinch and squish his cheek. And surprisingly, he took it well, making a little "whurf!" as you do.

"Don't go through my stuff, it's not very polite after I risked my arse you take care of you." You chuckle, setting yourself to task of boiling the water with the ground herbs. You kneel next to the remaining bit of water on the floor, dipping a rag into the pail and making a clicking noise with your teeth.

The wolf tipped his head to the side, ears pricking up at the noise as he slowly moseyed over to you shyly.

"Oh relax, I won't poison ya." You chuckle, dabbing the soaked cloth onto his fur, cleaning him of the muck.

He of course, did not like this. He whimpered and tucked his tail between his legs, his gorgeous brown eyes pleading with you.

"Ah! That won't work on me, Mister... You need to be clean before I can clean your wounds!" You cluck at him, not falling for his cute little attempt.

Thankfully, he sits there and lets you gently massage the mud away, carefully cleaning around his wound sites before hastily grabbing the pot of boiling water and pouring some into a wooden bowl.

You scratch behind one of his ears and say softly, "Now... I'm going to take care of you, okay? Now... just let me..."

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"No! Down! Bad wolf!" You groan, watching as his tail wagged happily, one of your kirdles firmly in his jaws, daring you to come get it.

"Ooooh! I should have left you in the woods!"

His ears flatten back and his eyes get big, giving you the sweetest, saddest look you've ever seen...

And it definitely broke you.

"Ah... You little... mouth off my clothes!" You grunt, tugging the garment from between his teeth, groaning at the sight of tears from his fangs.

He dropped down onto his front paws, wagging his tail happily as he makes a playful whine and yip.

"Oi! Ya seem just fine now!" You scold the animal, shaking the torn kirdle in front of him.

It was true. In just one day, your furry companion seemed to have healed miraculously faster than what was natural. It concerned you... but you didn't feel threatened by the creature's playful antics.

If anything, having him around made you feel less... lonely.

Dinner was almost ready, a simple stew with vegetables and salted meats tossed in. You weren't sure if wolves could eat such a meal, but you would feel awful if you were eating and your new friend merely had to sit and watch.

You sigh and toss your clothes aside, watching with a snort as the wolf playfully dove for it, rolling around and kicking it with his feet as you used your ladle to scoop two bowls.

You curled your feet beneath you as you plopped a spoon into your bowl before placing the spare on the floor. Your wolf's ears perked up and he sniffed the air, licking his chops as he abandoned your torn-up kirdle in favor of investigating the food you placed for him.

You smiled around your mouthful as he accidentally dipped his nose too deep into the broth, whipping his head around with a heavy snort.

"Ah, that's not how you eat, by the way..." You hum innocently, and again, your wolf gives you an almost human reaction, flattening his ears back as he seems to glare at you for a moment, before lapping at the food, curling his tongue around to eat the bits of veggies and meat.

"Oh, I'd love to keep you, but you don't belong here, fella." You say, scratching his ear softly in an affectionate way. Your skin crawls when you hear a mournful howl travel from the forest, across the fields, and into your house.

Your wolf whimpers and looks at you.

"As soon as you're ready, I'll sneak you back out to the woods." You promise him.

"I won't let anyone hurt you."

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He looked out from the treeline, his glowing white eyes staring out from the darkness.

A large, fluffy animal--a gorgeous white wolf, fur stained with mud--sidled up next to him, ears flattened back.

"Still no sign of him?" He sighed, frustrated.

The wolf whimpered, his tail tucking and nose dipping towards the ground in a response that seemed to say "no".

"Damn it!" The man roared, his fists balling tight as he began to pace angrily.

"Still no sign of your third?" A deep voice rumbled from the trees.

He lifted his gaze to spot him in all his imposing glory--Khonshu; god of the night sky, the moon, justice and many things in-between. His lithe frame ominously perched on the limb of an ancient, thick tree. One of his legs dangled down while the other supported his arm, his dominant hand clutching his staff in a tight-fisted grip as he stared down at him.

But mostly, he was his fist of vengeance. He was dispensing justice against those who imposed their will on the weak; like the other Englishmen who oppressed the local populace with their threats of jail, execution...

He also had to deal with bandits. Bandits, constantly seemed to prey upon travelers trying to find better places to live, to eke out a livelihood to support their families.

But right now, he was on edge.

He was incomplete. He was missing a vital part of himself. Someone he would not be able to fully function without.

Finally, his tongue unglued itself from the roof of his mouth and allowed him to speak.

"No."

"He is alive. I can feel it." Khonshu sighed, almost sounding bored. "You and your wolves... Sometimes they are a gift... other times it is a curse."

It was true... there weren't many of his kind left, and they were useful as a commodity, but also a vast hindrance if they were separated. Very few were born after being hunted to near extinction, and even fewer still were bitten and turned.

He tipped his head to the side, "He will come back. But until then, we have work to do. There is a group of soldiers that have taken women and children from their homes. I'm sure you can deduce what it is that they intend to do to them. I want you to stop them and set their captives free." Khonshu tapped his staff against the thick bark of the tree, and in a sharp breeze, he vanished.

"Right..." He said, his throat tight; his body thrumming with anxiety, his hand shaking immensely at the strain of lacking such a vital part of himself. He wondered still, if he would be able to control himself, to hold himself back without him.

His wolf companion moved forward, nudging his snout into the palm of his hand, whimpering softly.

Sparing one last glance over the countryside, he made a hefty sigh.

"Where the hell are you?"

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Pt. 2: I will get to it eventually, I swear you guys

Extra super late author's note:

Yeah it's gonna be at least one or two more parts. I am gonna split it up to ease on the scrolling time for you guys! That and it feels neater than cramming so many lazy time skips into one post. I am going to get the rest of my drafts cleared (hopefully) and begin eating away some of those asks I have piled up in my inbox (that Tumblr didn't manage to delete by some miracle...)

My trip might be postponed, dealing with a lot at home, like me almost burning the house down today and almost passing out from the damn smoke because wooooo fire is bad

If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have none whatsoever!

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #wolfwalkers #wolfwalkers au

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str0l0gy · 11 months

Text

TAKE ME HOME : NISHIMURA RIKI

“I’LL LET YOU GO, I PROMISE.”

PAIRING! shy!riki x player fem!reader

IN WHICH riki got his car taken away, resulting him in being late to class. he ended up in detention along with another girl, who introduces him to the world of street racing. ( this will change, i just need to finish the actual fic first lmfao )

GENRE! strangers to friends to ??, highschool!au, streetracing!au, fluff, angst

FEATURING! the rest of ENHA, yunjin & chaewon LSSRFM, hanni NWJNS, soul & jongseob P1H, my OCs

WORD COUNT! TBD

NOTES! hopefully, i finish this before school starts because if not, i don't think i’ll ever finish this shit 😭. but i really like this idea and the series in general, so i really want to write a fic for every member.

HIS LOUD FOOTSTEPS hurried through the empty hallways of the school. Riki struggled to remember what class he had at the moment; his busy mind made it difficult for him to remember. It was only when he ran past the classroom that he realized he currently had math.

His pants were heavy when he burst through the door, resulting in his classmates and teacher snapping their heads in his direction. With a guilty smile, he rubbed his nape, “Sorry…”

“Nishimura, you’re thirty minutes late. I will have to give you detention after school,” the teacher scolded in front of the students.

He kept his head low, nodding in defeat. The students snickered and whispered amongst themselves making Riki’s cheeks and ears heat up in embarrassment. There was no way he was getting away from this, no excuse would be good enough for his tardiness. For the rest of the class, he kept his head low on his desk, not wanting to interact with anyone for the interruption he had caused.

He kept the same position the whole day through all the classes and finally detention. The bright classroom was occupied by only Riki and the teacher in charge — whose snores disturbed the silence of the classroom. His head rested on his palm as he tried to understand the homework on the desk, completely failing after a while of trying. It had only been fifteen minutes of the two-hour-long period, and Riki felt like it had been an eternity.

That quickly changed when a sudden presence appeared behind the door, “Holy shit, he snores loud as fuck.”

The profanities shocked Riki at first, but he realized who it was when he got a good look at you. Your sudden burst woke the teacher up. “Sato Y/N?” He asked as he got ahold of the clipboard with all the names of the students that are supposed to be present.

“Yes?”

“Well, Sato… You’re fifteen minutes late.” He slammed the clipboard down on his desk in frustration. “Again. You know you’ll keep getting detention if you keep it up.”

You simply shrugged in reply while you made your way to the back of the classroom. The seat next to Riki that was unoccupied was taken by you. He hesitantly turned his head to you to catch another glimpse at you, his heartbeat sped up as he did it. Your intimidating, yet comforting, aura invaded the boring space.

You were leaning back on your chair, and the chunky highlights on your hair stood out to Riki. Countless piercings on your ear can be seen shining through your hair. You kept your narrow eyes on the teacher in front of the classroom, observing him. Your short skirt rode up your thighs as you crossed your legs.

You felt the feeling of his eyes bore into the side of your head, so you tilted your head in his direction to look at him. This action immediately made the boy beside you snap his eyes back to his paper. Riki felt your gaze on him for a few more seconds before the snores from the older male interrupted. He heard you mutter a low “finally” before standing up, and heading towards the door.

“Hey,” you suddenly said making his head snap up. “Are you coming or not?”

“Uh- umm,” Riki struggled to find his words, he could start to feel the tip of his ears heating up.

“Hurry, come,” you whispered as you held the door open, waiting for him to follow you.

His body moved before he even had time to think about his actions. He gathered his papers and bag hurriedly before speed walking towards the door. You walked faster than him as he got distracted by the light from the sun shining through the window covered by the grey clouds. He sighed, walking faster to match your speed. I better hurry before it rains he thought.

“I’m Sato Y/N,” you quickly introduced yourself when you realized you never did so, but Riki was well aware of who you were.

“Hi… I’m Nishimura Riki.”

You two walked at a quick pace to your shoe lockers to get out of the school as soon as possible. He realized that your locker was next to his when you stopped abruptly in front of him. Both of you pulled out the same pair of Jordan 4 Retros, “Black cats… nice,” you smiled at him.

While walking towards the school doors, sudden raindrops started to fall from the sky causing you both to curse under your breaths. You two complained for two very different reasons: Riki would have to wait for the rain to stop for him to walk to the train station; you just didn’t want to get wet.

You noticed Riki’s stress levels being higher than normal, “You good?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at your sudden concern, “Oh- I… have to wait for the rain to stop.”

You tilted your head in confusion with your eyebrows furrowed, “Is your car far?” He shook his head in response, “I have to walk to the train station…”

“You don’t have a car?”

“I don’t,” he mumbled lowly, if you weren’t so close to him, you wouldn’t have heard him.

“I can give you a ride if you want,” you offered which lifted the weight off of his shoulders. He nodded desperately at your proposal, thanking you multiple times under his breath.

“Okay, we just gotta make a run for it, follow my lead.” Your cold hand held his warm one. “Ready?”

#❝ TAKE ME HOME.#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #enhypen fanfiction #enha riki #riki fanfic #nishimura riki #niki x reader #enhypen niki

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ikkosu · 4 months

Note

Megatron angst, you say?? Megatron is ashamed of the kindness the reader shows him and even more ashamed of the love that developed from that kindness. He remembers keenly how little he thought of organics, the devastation he caused to Earth. The billions of organic lives across the universe that were snuffed out on his command. He can barely stand to look at himself in the mirror. He buries himself in his duties to hide from that vicious guilt, but it doesn't help, not really. Megatron feels he doesn't deserve your affection. He doesn't realize his distance hurts you, if only he would open up to you.

IT'LL PASS

Megatron x gn!scientist!human reader

a/n : ooooh I love these kind of angst! so yummy and gobble-able. I stayed up late writing this. megatron angst be upon ye (if that's how the saying goes, anyways). hope you won’t mind me using this Au, SSAU, in case confused of the size difference.

warnings : little bit of fluff on first half, angst on the second (yipeee) 💀 this is so long, god help me.

[i]

He remembered the first time he met you.

Your hands clinched over his larger ones, tugging it down so you could peer on your toes to get a better look at his face, It took him a moment to register you, first it was the pliant flesh curled over his digits like vines, warm and soft then his head swiveled down with a jolt to meet your curious, wide unblinking eyes.

"Is this...Megatron?" Your eyes narrowed, focused — words, innocent yet simple, came off as almost dumfounded.

He doesn't know what to say.

A raise of his brows and the purse of his lips were all he could muster in response. You’re the walking embodiment of the species he sought to eradicate. To destroy. And yet, here you are, unfazed. Jumping on your toes, drumming your hands over his digits, pawing at his broad, mettalic arms like he was a specimen. Before he could reply, Ratchet grabs the scruff of your collar and yanks you away.

“Wha— hey! I was about to introduce myself!"

“That can wait until the actual debrief. Which is due time. Sorry about this, this one’s a bit of a loiterer.” He grumbles, then yanks you away to fall in step with his pace. “Stir up another problem in the lab and make it count. If Rodimus asks, I am not dealing with his moping about whether or not the body gets decimated or cremated.”

"Oh, come on! " You’re now half-way across the hallway, disappearing. Voices muffled. “It’s like, the size of my palm, Ratty. It’s real cute too, with the puffed out fur and all. We should keep it!”

“I don’t care if it’s the size of your brain. Drift thinks it’s some kind of miracle. Like spiritual miracle or something.” Ratchet grunts out. “Dispose it before someone like you could be infected and you’ve got bad allergies, remember?"

"But—"

“Don't fight me on this. Earth is miles away and I am not comm-ing the Liason Department with a petty issue like that!”

Your altercation disappeared, much the same as your figures, through the sliding door, where the squabble continued into what’s possible the lab the medic mentioned.

Megatron stares, slightly dumfounded as it swishes close and Magnus, for a large mech he’s incredibly a silent walker, teeters behind him, shuffling on his pedes.

“I see you’ve met the organic scientist. An interesting subject to behold, no?”

Rodimus is somewhere behind the duly appointed, a few steps back, moping with a scowl.

With a small wolfish grin, he managed. “I wasn’t aware you’re keeping pets.”

“Excuse me?” The sports car bristled, fists clenched, now already close. “Who’re you calling pets you—“

“Rodimus, please.” His tirade of a decent chewing out is halted by Magnus, whose arm is a barrier between the two, “ Ease down and stay in that corner until I’m done.”

"You're gonna let him say that?" A digit jabbed his way. “But he!—“

“Is trying to a rise out of you.” The bigger mech lays a terse hand over his shoulder. “You of all people should know that. Now, go.”

He’s surprised the younger mech even complied, given his role as the ‘co-captain’, Megatron assumed Magnus would be the one subverscient to his commands. With a scowl he whirled around, stomping away to whatever room deemed worthy of another tantrum. Magnus, however, swivels back with a firmer look, determined not to be swayed by his prodding.

“Discrimination is an offense.” He begins with a finger wag. The grey mech sags. Oh, not this again. ‘’ Any more remarks like that will terminate your stay here. The human you’ve met is the only one residing here in the Lost Light. I expect you to treat them with the same respect they'll have for you."

"Only?" He drawls.

"Many are still not fond of us. Take it a small step towards peace between organics, if you will. " Magnus said, craning his neck over the warlord’s shoulder in time for the med-bay doors to slide open again.

Ambulon steps out, First-aid beside him, and in that split second, he gets a glimpse of you haggling Ratchet at his desk. On your palms were the rat they encountered earlier. He could only assume you're fighting for it's refuge here with how you're assaulting ratchet with desperate puppy eyes and coddling the little rodent to your cheek.

Then the doors slide shut again.

“ In your habsuite are several books on Organic history. Optimus encourages amending tension between Organics and Cybertrinians. So, you can start there. And, while that may prove a bit difficult I hope it isn't an obstacle towards your..."

He struggled, not able to to find the word. Perhaps, repenting is too much of a long stretch so he settles on, “Your stay here.”

"I'll manage just fine." He says gruffly and turns on his heels.

There was something brimming inside his chest. A familiar tinge of energy, much the same when he used to regard Orion with the same kind of fondness.

It'll pass. He reminds himself. It's just a fleeting feeling. It'll pass.

[ii]

You’re like a shadow.

Quick to come, quick to leave — a passing blur.

From the corners to the hallways, you were always there, except he never had a chance to properly introduce himself. Why? He doesn't know why. After all, you were the first person who greeted him with enthusiasm.

The next time he met you was evening, if it was even considered that way, space was in a constant plunge of darkness, anyways. Magnus's caution not to dwell at the bar was indeed taken into consideration as well as disregarded with much care — since drinking is naturally prohibited during 'work hours', according to Magnus, a notion that is an always for him.

Swerve's was fondly quiet.

The rest had gone to ogle another 'off-world chick flick' Rewind proposed. One of those action packed, cheesy films mechs these days are so sodden for. Obviously, he turned it down, ignoring Whirl's attempt to provoke him for being a 'buzz-kill' (he dodged another blaster to the head in doing so) and slumped by a cubicle , nursing a drink he kept swivelling aimlessly in his servo. He watches the purple curl then crest, sloshing about, caking the rims dry. His mind, plagued.

Too caught up in the voices in his head, the swift yet gentle pitter patter of footsteps prodding towards the counter was unheard. It was only when you slid into the empty seat in front of him that he blinked, jolting much as he did when he first met you.

He eyed the datapads and pens cluttering on the surface, following your tandem, gloved hands gently pushing the cup of engex aside. A barrier no longer. You laced your fingers and leaned over, nose close to touching. When it appeared you've caught his attention, your eyes creased, much like a half moon and he finds himself faltering at the sight of the sun.

Though, he stood his ground by holding a firm gaze.

"I hope I'm not bothering you?" Your voice is low, like you're half-expecting Ratchet to pop out again and drag you away.

"Well..." Megatron swivels to his half opened book of the Autobot Code on the table. He still has, much to his chagrin, a thousand more chapters to go through and might as well spare himself from this heinous task and deal with Magnus's preaching.

"Not at the worst time you found me." He folds the book primly and sets it aside.

"Splendid! Is that, ah, how you say it there?"

"What?"

"How’s it going buddy! Or, what's got you up in a twist pal! Something like that. Magnus is always haggling me about 'conforming' to certain ranks with the way I speak. So, what does it?"

He stares at you for a moment, more accurately, staring down, brows pinched. You're awfully small. And not in a 'teeny, tiny, precious little pet' kind of way. His gladiator instincts overruled his prior thoughts and the heigh difference is so explicitly stark he could crush you with a mere swing of a fist. Why are you here? I could kill you. He's not so sure what to think of that. Though, his lower region can preach otherwise.

He should really stop drinking.

"You're not suppose to be here."

"Not quite."

The smile turns into a wolfish grin. It's only now he noticed you've plopped a black satchel on the table.

" Actually, to tell you the truth I'm old enough to be drinking. Hell, even mingling with the lot of you. It's just that, ah, the chemicals! Chemicals, am I right? It hurts the human brain. Makes it woozy. Real, woozy. Can’t think well. I don't know about you bots, cons, uh, there's more gosh, but you see I'm—"

"Referring to your presence." He crosses his arms, leaning back.

"Rodimus doesn't like you here."

The satchel flaps open with a click. You shrug. "Hm. That's a lot less fun, no? Guess he'll have to suck it up. Can’t keep me in a cage forever. I need my own breath of fresh air.”

He looks off to the side, forcing back an imperceptible smile. " Is that so? Whatever happened to conforming to ranks?"

"Ah, apologies, he'll have to handle shoving a stick up his tailpipe."

"You would prefer mingling with me than—"

" Obviously. It's a perfect time for our interview to start!"

.Megatron shifted slightly away, fighting the urge to frown. His digits drum the service, irritated.

"You're interested about the war." He states plainly.

"It's not much about the war, you see. It's, well more about the performers. No, wait not performers, the ah—“ You wag the pen in front of him, struggling to find the words, other hand fumbling to open the book. When you're unable to muster a coherent explanation, you settle on, "Short story, I’m a researcher. Journalist, even. Half-scientist? You get the gist."

Your eyes flicker down to the clutter of datapads by his side, an amused grin this time, " What's the point? I suppose you're already aware of my name, then?"

He feels his faceplates burn. The many datapads you caught contained the ship's dwellers and one, sticking out from the others, is your profile. It was a harmless dive, but with how blatant his stylus circled your picture a deep red, he knew he was in too deep. He clears his throat, a swift digit nudged the rim aside and it's hidden under the others.

"A bit of curiosity isn't too much of a harm these days." He doesn't shake your outstretched hand but taps your palm with his digits. "What would you like to know?"

The touch lingered. You smiled.

"You."

[iii]

He's not sure what to think.

Several weeks after the incident at the bar there's been a routine he's now accustomed to. Wake up, have a cup of energon, haggle both Magnus and Rodimus before making his rounds around the ship. (Succumb to dirty looks from mechs, as well). Then, it's only then he's able to spend time with you in the confines of his habsuite.

The first time was very uncomfortable. He's twiddling his thumb like a schoolboy as he’s perched on the edge of his birth, glaring at the floor while you're sprawled on the couch, scribbling whatever he uttered onto the paper like it's a holy scripture.

He needs to say something.

Anything to keep the conversations aflow. The sessions were about two hours long — three if it became a little more in depth — and he finds himself short circuiting when you’d throw in an ‘joke’ or two. Apparently, he missed the joke. It flew right over his head. When the rest of the conversation fell off awkwardly, it's only then he realize how inept at casual conversation he is.

"I suppose you can say the commodities there were made were satis-factory." He pauses for a moment, letting it simmer.

You blink a little, the one in your hand twirls for a moment before your palms clutched your mouth, hunching over the chair, shoulders heaving. There was a pleasant sound from your lips. Is that—

"Are you laughing?" He asks, strangely offended.

"Sorry, it's just— mhmaha, eheahag. Hehehnskslk,” You gathered yourself but the cheeks still twitched. “. Is— is that, like, a pun. Are you punning?"

He gave in, looking away. “…Magnus urged me to be a lot less ‘stiff’ with how I deliver certain….statements. ”

“So, you went with puns.” The pen nudges his cheek, playful.

He swats it away with a chuff. “We were discussing about industrial propaganda during the early courses of the war, it’s only appropriate that I put that in.”

“How many more have you got under your sleeve, megs?"

From his faceplate, a small smile cracks. “If you have enough time to spare.”

[iv]

When he looks at you, he's reminded of Orion.

Compassionate yet strong-willed. Accepting yet firm. Perhaps it's because you're as youthful as the first conjure of a star or perhaps he likes to believe that you are. You innate curiosity for knowledge, your naive recklessness for danger; determined to be the hero, despite lacking — it worries him.

In what way does it so?

Sometimes, he half expects you to emerge as a different person. One day, a bright smile on your face, the other, a facade. Your true self. He finds himself dawdling towards the mirror, scrutinizing his faceplate. The creases and wrinkles that amass his grimace, they eased into a gentle smile when he thinks about you.

It’s the little things that gets him.

Your hand on his arm when you speak, the focused adoration in your eyes when he goes on another tirade about his poems, or when he’s particularly feeling a bit sour, you’re always there with your own two cents which breaks a smile out of his face — it makes him feel something he doesn’t want to prod.

“Energon?”

He stares at the outstretched cup, his other servo is cradling his temple, migraine induced. He’s at his desk, hunched over a datapad, stylus working with abandon when you came in, the brief respite of luminescent light flaring his room stark before it shrouds dim again. Everyone had clocked in for the night. Magnus left a few hours earlier. You, on the other hand….

“How…how did you make this?” He’s dumbfounded, watching as the purple swirls around his reflection.

You declare proudly with a puff of your chest. “Being a scientist, you can pull off a few strings or two to get it. Though, I did almost combust a ‘certain’ contraption trying to filter off raw energon. Brainstorm's instructions aren't easy to read. I should really stop trying to crank up the generator to max….”

“Please, i implore you — don’t do that again.”

You shrug, a little grin.He vents. Guess he’ll have to tolerate you for the time being. You set the cup of energon on his desk and peered over a little.

“What’re you up to?”

He feels his face burn. “Annotating the next poem you requested. For our next session. You…wanted to see my earlier poems and their possible significance."

There was a bright twinkle in your eye — too bright he swiveled away for a moment.

“May I?”

“If you have time…”

[v]

It appears interviewing isn't your only vice.

Off you go to expeditions outside the Lost Light, floating about on meteors, wrangling native plants from native planets, returning to med-bay, sometimes, with parched gloves that're burnt at the tips and hair a different color from the chemical abrasions.

Megatron sometimes finds himself on the gurney instead with how much pressure his spark is taking its toll.

Once, he's startled off his armor when you tapped the window from the outside, mouthing about how Brainstorm probably started another fire in the east wing.Safe to say it wasn’t long before the fire reached him. And, you’re the one chipping off the burnt metal parts from his arm, gently cradling his servos.

It's just a little brain worm, he tells himself. Another delusion he conjures because he's so desperate to feel something — anything to contradict his guilt. Your touch is nothing but miniscule and yet he finds himself in front of laboratory often, and he'd look lost when you're greeted at the sight of the warlord dawdling in front of the lab, another excuse concocted on the spot to deter you from the possible reason.

"Isn't he a little too keen on experiments like these?" Perceptor mutters. "I didn't realize he's fond of...whatever new shenanigans they've made. If anything, I surmise an ulterior motive."

"Oh, let him be." Brainstorm waves him off dismissively. " There's no harm in finding new hobbies. He's an ex-warlord let 'im live. Besides, I heard he wanted to be a medic once, can you believe that?"

"Until the day I die, no."

"Oh, Percy, you bore."

"Please, don't even go there "

Megatron blinks as you set down a pink vial on the desk, your own hands gripped his own with a vice, tugging him along to your experiments. Your scruffed up lab coat is half-burnt at the sleeves and the bubbling beaker by your side is driving him up the wall. Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation, whatsoever?

"So, I was working on the prospect of dying acids, right? Not, die die, as in, well, dying. Die as in coloring. Trying so that when they explode it explodes a certain type of color. Neon, too! And here, take a look at this—"

You're ranting. Mouth moving, not stopping. He can't seem to focus. You're so much smaller. Just below his torso, fun-sized, easy to hold and when he's touching your soft parts —you guide his hand to pry open whatever contraption-lock you're making, he finds himself flinching.

You're so...soft.

"I'm what?" You say, yelling over Brainstorm's loud generator resounding across the room.

You're squinting, straining to hear. He wants to peel the goggles away. He wants to see your eyes.Wants to the see the way the luminescent lights freckles off the white like sparkles. He clears his throat, jabbing a finger to whatever contraption he can set your mind on, not at how his faceplate is burning much as the generator is.

"That doesn't look safe."

"That's because it's a bomb." Perceptor emerges behind you both, a scowl on his face, and paid no mind to his startled expression as he makes a beeline towards the other scientist, struggling to hold the generator together. There's a distance muffled yelling and shuffling. You both stare at them, unmoving.

"You build bombs."

"Unethical, I know."

He whirls to look at you; you're focused elsewhere. "That's not what I meant."

"Okay, okay. I might've lied a bit on that Journalism thing. But hey, I've got to make meet ends right? Hm? Megs?” You look around. “Where’d he go?”

[vi]

"What's this?" He's snapped out of his tirade, swivelling his gaze from the dome-ish greenhouse he's been ogling at to you crouched near the pot, gloved hands shoved inside the soil.

He remarks bitterly. "I pour my heart out and you're pulling out weeds?"

"Yup. Wanna help?"

They're in your personal laboratory for today. Given the amount of flora and fauna strewn about the room, Ratchet remarked it was like a greenhouse of some sort. Megatron vents, lumbering from the chair and towards your form. He snagged the recording pen from the table, clicked it and dropped it into the satchel

So much for a moment of heart to heart.

"What's this?" His digits curls out, prodding the petal of the bud, clutched between your palms.

Even when he's crouching, he's still towering over you like a building.

You smile up to him, child-like. "A new kind of flower I made."

"Really, now."

"Oh, come on hear me out."

"If it's complete and utter jargon to mess with my circuits — don't even try."

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll keep it simple."

With a snap of your finger the room became dim and from a pot, you plucked out a flower. It wasn't, however, a normal visage of one. Megatron slowly extends his palm, cradling the plant like it was crystal. The petals are glass like; it sparkled blue, frolicking purple. Against his chassis it glew, a faded tinge of color on the gunmetal grey. His face eased into a smile.

"This is....fascinating. How did you make this? Don't answer that. You'll only give me a headache." He tries to clamp a servo over your lips but you duck away. "Even so, I have no words to conjure... how much I feel about this. What implored you to create such a remarkable plant?"

" Your poem."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"The one where you compared sparks to flowers. In a way, I do see that too." You gestured around. "My own world is like a garden. And i like to keep my garden clean. Weed out the bad stuff, put in the good stuff. But sometimes, new flowers grow amongst the old, and when they do..."

You look up to him with a small smile. "They bloom into something beautiful."

It took him a moment to understand.And when he does, his spark thrummed for a desperate plea for touch. Without thinking, his digits find your chin and reels you close.

He thinks about this often. Your kindness wasn't because you were simply kind. It's because you believed everyone had a chance.

He doesn't deserve one.

It's like everything clicked together. The sullen memories strung itself into shape, now etching across his processors. Limb, lifeless bodies across barren land. Blood smeared the soil dark crimson. What is he doing? This is shameful. Shameful of him. The very species he sought to kill, to snuff out, to eradicate. The wide, spanning field of flowers. Blue, hauntingly beautiful. Those were the lives lost.

You could’ve bloomed amongst them

He shoved you away, not to harshly but in a manner of surprise, jolting much as he did when he first met you. His shoulders grazed the pot on the table as he stood and it toppled to the ground. The shards crackled, breaking on impact. Soil a barrier, sprawled between you both.

His own anger flared, fists clenching.

“Woah, there. Something wrong? Did you get pricked?”

Megatron says nothing as you clean up the mess. Hands plucking the shards off the ground, rambling again. "Man, your shoulders are really wide. Not as big as Mangus's but still, they're like a whole wall of—"

"You should hate me."

You freeze, the shards paused halfway down into the duster, tipping a little over the edge.

Megatron kept his gaze to the floor. He needed to tell you this. He needed to remind you now. He's not what you think he is, and just because he's had his moment of respite with you, he's still, and will always be the Megatron who sought domination through means of violence, ethical or not.

"I know."

Your face smoothens out a moment before it eases back into a smile. The gentle kind.

"I killed your people. Eradicated thousands of them. Torn through vibrant planets, decimated floras, faunas, and life that teemed in those regions. I hurt nature. I hurt it's mother."

"I know."

"Then, why are you so subverscient to your own compassion? Why not take your anger out on me?" He takes a domineering step forward. "I don't understand. A person can't be this forgiving."

"Because it's wrong." You say simply. "Because it won't do anything. Look, just because you think I'm nice to you doesn't mean Im not aware of what you did.Even if I get to break several joints off your sockets, would that get me anywhere? If anything, it'll make me more miserable."

”You’re naive.’’

The flower no longer crackled. No longer bright. Like the broken pot, it lay shattered on the ground, glinting.

"If that’s how you see it..." You trail off, eyes creasing into a frown. "Is this about the poem? I didn't mean to overstep—"

He whirled away without a word. "I need to go."

[vii]

He can't get you out of his mind.

Day by day passes. From night to morning to dawn, he finds himself plagued with thought hes not able to comprehend.

Everytime he wakes up, there's this urge. He finds himself wanting to see you. He steeled himself, however, walking past you when you approach. Answering in clip tones when you ask. Magnus notices he's in his office a lot more recently, pouring through the mountains of datapad like he's on a grip.

"You should rest, Megatron." He tells the captain once.

What returned however is a grunt. Neither affirming nor denying. The enforcer frowns. He'll have to ask you about it. And yet a quick look to the scientist deters his thoughts. You're less bright and while you still have the amiable streak it appears as though you're forcing a grin through it all. Something must've happened. A fight, more preferably. That led to him confronting Rung about it, and the psychiatrist confronting Megatron — in a less subtle way, of course.

The warlord tells him it's just a brain worm, something eating at him for a while.

Something passing,

"I do think that is something quite more." He mutters, stylus crossing another scribbles on the datapad. "Given your nature with the former it's only normal to feel shame to such sentiments. Inter-species relationships dwell on that complication a lot. I get questions regarding guilt, betrayal of their own race and the unethicalities of it all. The only significant point here, however, is how you're willing to approach this problem.”

Rung, straightens his goggles. “How would you like to look at it?"

Megatron ponders. He thinks. Gears churning, scheming. Silent. He wants it to be something more yet he wants it to be nothing beyond what they are. How can he, a warlord whose actions eradicated almost half the cosmos, bring himself to feel even a minuscule hint of happiness? No, he can’t. He doesn’t deserve any of this. It's not like you feel the same.

"Nothing. It's just a fleeting feeling. It'll pass.

"Surely it can't be that easy to put aside."

Megatron frowns. "What, you don't think I can do it?"

Rung pulls a terse smile, folding his fingers over his lap.

"t’s not a matter of whether or not you can do it…" he trails off, unsure. It appeared as though he wanted to say more with how his lips part for a second. "But if that's how you would like to proceed, I am not forcing you. After all, your feelings wouldn’t fare better if I do. The choice is yours."

."I think it's best I keep my distance.

Rung seems a little distraught at that. "Perhaps it's better that you don't. Your feelings, they’re not something you can toy around with such ease. And while they're indeed very complicate, avoiding them is—"

"Don’t pretend to understand how I feel.” Rung flinches at the sudden venom in his tone. “I know how to deal with this. I just need time. Time…time is all I need.

It'll pass. He tells himself.

It never does.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #megatron x reader #idw megatron #transformers idw #ikkosuwrites #mtmte megatron #lost light

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a-998h · 4 months

Note

Hi I hope your having a good day.

Anyways I've got a sagau idea

So I've made like ten-ish or over OCs who look exactly like/similar to me because of Lore Reasons.

So pretend Reader has their own universe with a look-alike self-insert and over ten OCs who look just like their IRL self because of Lore Reasons.

It only applies to physical appearance and it ranges from "you're identical to the Reader" to "you could be a relative to them."

Let's say that instead of Reader getting Isekai-ed to Teyvat, one of their OCs who looks just like them lands in there instead and is executed in Imposter AU fashion, no matter how much they say they aren't Reader and never even claimed to be them.

They wake up in their universe like it was just a nightmare, but now have scars permanently acquired from the Imposter Hunt.

As for Reader, they had a nightmare where they saw their OC brutally hunted and killed in all the worst angles and don't take it well.

Next time its time to boot up Genshin Impact, they just hand it to a friend who loves the game but don't have the storage to play it, and just watches them play.

Their acolytes are wondering why their creator isn't controlling them anymore.

"As glad as I am that your letting me play, what's the fuck happened to make you let go of your borderline obsession with it?"

"Nightmare."

"one hell of a nightmare to put this off, the fuck happened?"

"You know [OC's Name]? I had a nightmare they woke up in Teyvat and was murdered and tortured by almost everyone in Teyvat. Because they looked like a Creator Deity."

"There's never even been a mention of a Creator God, and looking like them got one of your favorites killed, good god."

"yeah I can't stomach this anymore. I think I'll focus on my own original creations instead, you can have my account for now on."

"Woof. Not too keen on spoiling my Teyvatian faves myself knowing they might be culpable in making you sad."

"yeah I'm scared of having nightmares of my other look-alikes being murdered."

"Whatever makes you happy."

From then on Teyvat has to grapple with only having attention from a friend of their Creator occasionally giving them the time of day instead of their Creator's doting.

Teyvat will have to grapple with the 'imposter' being one of their many direct creation always meant to look just like them.

Teyvat will have to grapple with having executed a direct creation of the creator and loosing their love because of it. All that love now directed to those very mistreated creations.

Teyvat will have to grapple with their Creator Deity not even knowing/remembering that they created Teyvat, and only thinks they made their current focus.

Okay now I'm imagining an AU where another look-alikes OC whose heard of what happens the first time around wakes up in Teyvat and it very intent on staying away from civilization and finding their own way back to their universe.

Like what if this happened because Teyvat or other parties couldn't get the Creator back yet, so they settled for the next best thing. Their own creation who looked oh so similar.

This fits with my own lore for my series on my blog.

They want you. You're their beloved god but they can't have you, at least not yet. Thanks to Travel and the existence of you controlling them they knew other world exist.

The first they thought was a copy of you. They hunted the imposter, how dare this weakling impersonate their god. The death was brutal. That one woke up with scars.

This repeated for who know how long. As they come to terms with the fact that they won't have you just yet, the settle for someone they think is related to you. There are traits shared between the two of you, but that one isn't their god. But the have to settle until they can have you.

The nightmares that follow you push you away, they're sorry. They want you back, they'll be nice to the next one if you just look their way again. Please, they need you.

There is guilt, they killed a creation of yours with no remorse. They killed someone because they happened to look like you, and Teyvat thought this person was lying about being their god. They'll all make it up to you, just please look their way again.

#genshin fanfic #cult au #sagau #creator!reader #sagau lore #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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darlingkirstein · 3 months

Note

eremika in any sort of romcom setting hehe

i think this is romcom-y enough??? idk it's a silly little meet cute in fantastically cheesy unrealistic scenario so i think it fits the romcom vibe Teehee🩷 hope you enjoy my pookie wookie vic <3

actor au / fluffy / rated e for everyone / 3.6k

Mikasa toils over the counter, sifting through the different orders — many have rather well-renowned names attached — to decide which ones to tackle first. Being a barista proves more difficult than she initially imagined. All she needed was a simple job to help pay the rent; the coffee shop being on a movie studio lot has been an added bonus, a chance to mingle with stars.

And by mingle, she means floundering interactions with the latest growing stars with their persnickety drink orders, some quick to complain at the smallest errors. Whenever she gets the opportunity to see someone whose likeness is stamped on a poster in her room, Mikasa mangles all attempts at compliments. Trying to praise their work only culminates in rosy cheeks and baffled looks shot back in return.

Exhaling, she gets to work, going through the orders in a procession ascending from least complicated to most tedious. Everyone seems to want extra toppings these days, extra pumps of artificial syrups that turn their 'coffee' into little more than an excessively-priced milkshake. Whatever gets them through the day, she supposes. Making a movie is tricky work.

Mikasa understands this. Sorta. Or at least, she's attempting to. The acting jobs haven't exactly been falling into her lap, though basic probability encourages her that at least one of these countless auditions have to turn into something. She's desperate for anything — at one of her past attempts, an audition for a medicine commercial, the casting agent giggled midway through her delivery of some poorly-written script. The best Mikasa's ever gotten was being an extra for an episode of a new television show — which was promptly cancelled after a first season.

She finishes an affogato and a raspberry danish for Marilyn Lawrence, lounging around on her lunch break from shooting Saturn's Divinity. It apparently takes too much effort to acknowledge Mikasa's calls of her name, too preoccupied by whatever's on her phone to pay much attention.

"Marilyn!" Mikasa repeats, nervous for yet another celebrity interaction. Lawrence only just won a BAFTA for her performance in This Holy House.

With a scoff, the actress strolls to the counter, barely mouthing a thanks before sulking back to a table, carrying all her actress-y things with.

It's hard not to feel like pond scum when the upper echelons of the acting world are hardly willing to spare her simple pleasantries, yet alone anything resembling kindness. Mikasa brushes it off, moving onto the next order.

She just gets started before Marilyn returns.

"This isn't gluten-free, is it?" The spiteful manner in which she asks has Mikasa stammering even before she attempts to answer her question.

"I, uh— I actually don't know. Let me check."

Flustered, she ducks down, foraging for a paper or manual that lists the ingredients. This is something Mikasa knows she should remember, but this job has squeezed out so much of her brain capacity that little else remains.

"You really don't remember?" Marilyn laughs, and Mikasa can hear her continued click-clacking on the phone keyboard, probably complaining to a friend. "You could've killed me, y'know. People have this little thing called celiac. It's important."

Mikasa suspects that Marilyn Lawrence does not have Celiac disease, but she isn't willing to invite even more wrath. "I'm sorry, ma'am, you're—"

"Whatever. Just figure it out and fix it."

When Mikasa falls quiet to continue her search, she expects the frustration to simmer; it doesn't, and Marilyn continues to berate her, though most of her comments are utterly nonsensical. Mikasa's manager is nowhere to be found, useless for getting her out of this less-than-lovely situation.

Her savior comes in the form of a grey-haired gentleman in a suit, bewildered as he bursts through the door, scanning everyone inside — until his gaze falls on Mikasa. He smiles, cell phone pressed tightly against his ear. Though she cannot pin down his name, Mikasa recognizes him as some movie producer, a real big shot.

"You there! Barista! Come with me."

Stunned, Mikasa points to her chest. "Me?"

Marilyn scoffs again. "Uh, hello? What about me?"

The man ignores the Hollywood A-lister, brushing past her to reach the counter. "Yes, you. We need you. I'll explain when we get there. Come on."

Head in a tizzy, Mikasa cocks her head — squinting her eyes, unsure that she isn't fast asleep in the clutches of a dream. What did some movie executive want with some barista?

"I— I think you have the wrong person."

"Jesus, there's no time for this." He turns to the side, muttering harsh words into the phone. "Yeah— I found someone. Just give us a second."

He turns his attention back to Mikasa.

"Are you gonna come with or not? We need you."

At this point, Marilyn has surpassed the angry-scolding-stage and lands in stunned silence. Mikasa still doesn't know what she's needed for, but angering a Hollywood exec is a surefire way to get blacklisted from any future opportunities. They don't want any dead weight in a cast.

"Uh, yeah— No, I'll— I'll go. I'll go."

Opportunities like this are so rare. Mikasa gets so consumed by this fleeting chance that angering her boss isn't even a concern she consciously entertains. As the executive's eyes burn a hole through her head, she feels hypnotized to untie her apron, tossing it aside. It's tempting to pinch her arm, still convinced of a REM-induced trick, but before she can ponder it, Mikasa is crossing the counter, calling her co-worker's name.

The coffee shop's manager finally appears, and as Mikasa is whisked away by the executive's firm grasp, his protests join Marilyn's, though both go utterly unanswered as Mikasa jumps onto a golf cart waiting outside the doors.

It's hard not to feel like Cinderella climbing onto that pumpkin carriage, ready for the ball.

Mikasa's heart races. She tries guessing what possibly awaits her at the end of this ride. Some secret meeting? An agent, excited to tell her that they've been monitoring her auditions and love what they see? All options feel like a pipe dream.

They arrive at an outdoor filming set, and Mikasa wonders over the absolute chaos going on, the cameramen adjusting their equipment, the mousy-haired director shouting commands through his microphone, guiding the team. She recognizes from the lovey-dovey set design that this must be for Before Affection Retires.

"Hey," the executive barks, snapping his fingers, breaking her free from her daze. "Go over to that trailer. Get in costume and then get back here."

Costume? Mikasa is dazed. She can't produce any discernible response, tumbling out of the cart, speedwalking toward the right trailer. She's never done something requiring a costume, only her plain-old, regular street clothes, blending in easily in the background. This is all new.

Before she knows it, Mikasa is donned in a pretty dress that stops just below her knees, its color somewhere between plum and maroon, the shoulders flowy and graceful. The makeup process was even more foreign — Mikasa's daily makeup routine is simplistic to the core, but the stylist here wanted her eyelashes to pop, seductive and primed for romance. A curling iron turns her hair into bouncy, bombshell waves.

She feels so unlike herself, but adrenaline sends her speeding back for the scene of the action, toward the director still barking out commands.

"You!" He cries, pointing. "Get over here! We're starting a shoot in five minutes. Get a script."

Mikasa wonders if every movie set is this hostile, or if everyone here is just having a bad day. One page from the script gets pressed against her chest, along with one order. "Memorize this."

But before she can begin, a frazzled assistant debriefs her on the whole debacle, leading her to the side and gesturing around wildly.

"You know what you're doing? Can you act?"

Mikasa blinks. "Uh, yeah? I can, yeah."

It's clear that answer doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in the assistant, but regardless, there's apparently no time to waste on nonsense.

"Diana Baldwin is a no show. There's no time in the schedule to skip her scenes today. You'll be filling in for her for the kiss scene. Got all that?"

Diana Baldwin? That's who I'm filling in for?

There's no time to be starstruck. "Got it. Yup."

"Alright, good. You'll say the lines, and they'll do the ADR in post production. You're just a stand-in. That's it. Don't expect overnight fame, yeah?"

Mikasa nods fervently, still so confused. "No fame. That's— I'm no— Why am I here?"

The question comes out without thinking, but that thought hasn't left her mind since the coffee shop, never able to ask in the swirl of chaos.

"You look like her from the back. Same height, same build. The editors can work their magic."

She'll be little more than a green screen, but the thrill of being on a big movie set, stepping in for an actress she's long admired, is worth it.

"Where do I go? Do I— How much time?"

"Three minutes. Get studying."

Mikasa sends herself into a corner to study, scanning the swoonworthy dialogue for the upcoming scene. A big scene. Important, crucial as the romantic climax for a major Hollywood production, and it depends on her.

The words sink in slowly, as best as they can. The last thing Mikasa wants is to earn a director's ire by flubbing the script to a laughable degree. She prepares herself to be flirty, desirable.

"You! Get ready to shoot."

Mikasa scoots into the filming area, finding the mark on the grass guiding her position. As she assumes the position provided by the script, glancing absentmindedly toward the side, she catches glimpses of camera operators approaching, microphones getting closer.

"Action!"

As directed, Mikasa tilts her eyes upward — finally catching a view at her co-star. Damn near jeopardizing the sanctity of the shoot, she struggles hard to keep her jaw from dropping.

Eren Jaeger. A total heartthrob. Mikasa's harbored a subtle (not really) crush on him for the last few years, just when he began his ascent into Hollywood relevancy. She's seen most of his movies, praising multiple as her favorites. God, Mikasa knows she'll even watch the less-than-savory options, the ones without glowing reviews — independent films with tiny budgets and screenwriters that need fine tuning. She has his films ranked by her favorites, but even that is a difficult list to maintain. Though his social media presence isn't huge, Mikasa keeps up with him.

And now she gets to kiss him.

He wears an outfit so casually suave, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, the first couple buttons undone for an alluring effect. His shoulder-length hair is something you'd seen on a 1990s teen pop culture magazine, harkening to the age of 'effortless' hairstyles, so swooshy. Mikasa chooses Eren over a young Leonardo DiCaprio any day of the week without hesitation.

The lines nearly slip from Mikasa's memory. She's supposed to be flirty with Eren Jaeger; now, her tasks feels all the more insurmountable to live up to, the standards raised to their highest level.

As Eren approaches, he grins. Mikasa has to remind herself that it's the character he's smiling so pretty at, not her. Some fake girl. Not her.

The tragedy of that causes her to almost miss her first line, but she pulls it together. "You came?"

"Obviously," he replies, laughing, his palms immediately cupping her cheeks. Mikasa's glad the camera isn't focused on her face — which has turned a humiliating shade of red. "You didn't think I'd really leave you behind, did you?"

Mikasa swallows. What was the line? She exhales, as propositioned, smiling, mustering up as much desperation in her tone as she can. "I don't know." This young actress has never been this nervous. "You seemed like you were in a pretty big hurry."

Here comes the most swoonworthy dialogue, the part that'll send Mikasa into cardiac arrest. Eren, or whatever his character's name is, draws her closer, their noses rubbing together. The cameras are almost intrusive now — just like they've always been in her screen tests, her daunting auditions, the technology recording her failure.

At Eren's advancing touches, Mikasa recalls another direction from the script — touch him. She nervously rests her shaky fingers on his waist, clutching his shirt. Eren Jaeger's shirt. His smell is intoxicating this close, subtle but unbelievably attractive. Potent. He continues.

"No. Never. C'mon, El. Can't leave you. You know I can't leave you. Don't give a damn about all that."

Without context, Mikasa has no idea what all that even means, but it's irrelevant. Eren has his hands grasping her face, ready to confess his deepest feelings. She swallows hard, clearing her throat.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You'll wanna leave again. I can't keep you here."

Her delivery has a shakier quality to it than a professional actress might have, but Mikasa's just proud of herself for not melting to a puddle.

Eren, formidable in his role, just as strong as he looks on the silver screen, pushes her back until they've stumbled into the stone railing behind them — a totally improved move that catches Mikasa off guard, her breath hitching.

Before she can process anything, his lips are latched onto hers, hungrily, his character so desperate to prove his affections to this El girl. He tastes just as good as he has in Mikasa's most shameful dreams, the ones where she gets to do exactly what she's doing now, standing tall as Eren's co-star, the recipient of all his perfectly-acted kisses across an excessive number of takes.

Happy to indulge in this fantasy, Mikasa loses herself in the scene, determined to live up to the expectations placed onto her. She clutches onto Eren, brave enough to engage her mouth, providing her own energy to the kiss. Good God. I'm kissing Eren Jaeger. This is all real.

"Not going anywhere," Eren mewls, too convincing in his 'acting', slipping into this character with so little effort. His hands find Mikasa's thighs, squeezing as she's hoisted into his strong arms, legs with no destination but to wrap around his waist. "I need you. I need you."

Mikasa can't contain herself. Her poor heart is close to giving out, and her stomach flips and clenches and every tumultuous sensation between. She forgets this is a movie, on a set, surrounded by strangers watching them kiss.

One more line. "Stay here. Stay with me, please."

"I will, you goddamn, gorgeous idiot. I'm here."

They kiss longer — so much longer — until the immersion is decimated by the director calling cut, leaving Mikasa in the unfortunate reality where Eren swiftly drops her down to her feet. Through the megaphone, the director praises them — before asserting that they would return for a second, precautionary take.

"Hey," Eren starts, his regular, out-of-character tone somehow so different from his voice during shooting. He's more relaxed. Mikasa's used to this voice from all the interviews she's seen.

"Hi." She keeps her eyes averted, too flustered to even dare looking at him after that. He's famous. She's a nobody, wannabe actress that's stuck working a part-time throwaway job. Still, her awkward smile seems to endear her to him.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry for surprising you like that. Felt like it might help the scene." He sounds pleased with himself for concocting the idea. "I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

As if he couldn't get anymore perfect. He's a massive sweetheart, too, not some prima donna.

"No— not at all. It was— it was clever."

"You think so? I worried it might be too much."

She's unsure how to reassure him of the move's success without exposing her gigantic crush.

"I think the women watching will be happy."

Eren laughs and it's sublimely charming. "Well, then I'm happy with it. You're all hard to please."

Behind her back, Mikasa fidgets with her fingers, cracking her knuckles like crazy — anything to relieve the what-is-happening-right-now energy coursing through her bloodstream and incapable of exiting any of her brain's fixated thinking.

"Ah, well— I doubt you could disappoint them."

Instantly, she wants to slam her palm so hard into her forehead that it sends her flying. He doesn't need another weirdo fangirl. I've seen the comments on his Instagram. There's enough of those already. If he's annoyed, Eren conceals that frustration with ease, accepting the vote of confidence with a gracious simper.

"Thanks." He exhales deeply, finding his place beside her against the railing. "Are you an actress? How'd you get wrapped up in all this?"

Calling herself an actress in Eren's presence seems rather reductive of his talent. Mikasa shrugs, biting the inside of her cheeks. "Sorta? Not really. I'm— I'm trying to be, at least."

Eren smiles. "Have I seen anything you've done?"

He's much easier to talk to than someone like Marilyn Lawrence. He's more— more human.

"If you watched Avalon Harbor, you might've caught me in the background for a second. I think it was at 36:20, if you feel like double checking."

Pathetic as it sounds, her jokes makes Eren snort, and Mikasa considers that a win. "You know what, I'll have to give it a rewatch sometime."

A different production assistant brings them bottles of water while they wait to reconvene. There's a painful silence between them — a silence that Mikasa wishes to fill with a million questions about his acting, his roles, his journey from child clothes model to big screen cash cow.

Somehow, though, he's equally interested in her.

"So, Ms. Avalon Harbor, you didn't really answer my question. Where'd they find you?"

Mikasa sighs. Now he'll really know I'm a loser.

"The coffee shop down the street. I work there."

He laughs again. "I— I didn't expect that one."

Just as she's about to attempt another joke, anything to hear his pretty laugh again, the director cuts their conversation short, summoning the cast and crew back into position.

"It was nice to chat with you— Wait, what's your name? Just realized I have no idea."

She swallows, lump building in her throat. You're about to be on a first name basis. "Mikasa."

"Eren," he replies, a formality more than anything. "Maybe we'll get to work together again one day."

Don't get your hopes up, she tells herself. "I'm happy to just be in the audience, really."

He smiles as he backpedals back to his starting position, and that smile lingers on Mikasa's brain all the way until the director calls action.

Returning to her barista job after the previous day's events is harder than she anticipates. Getting a taste of a real actresses' life didn't quench that dream — it only thickened her thirst to be on more movie sets, to experience the thrill of producing something from nothing, to turn a script into a visual manifestation for audiences.

Kissing Eren Jaeger played a big part, obviously.

It's hard to keep her mind off their scenes while cleaning the counter during a lull in customers. Her eyes fixate onto the speckles hidden into the quartz countertop, utterly lost in a daydream, replaying the kiss in her head just like she's rewatched some of Eren's movies on repeat.

A gentle voice cuts through her folly.

"What do you recommend? I can't decide."

Startled, Mikasa gets ready to issue so many apologies for being so ditzy, so inattentive. The last thing she needs is a customer complaint.

When she catches the man's eyes, she's even more startled to see Eren standing there.

"Oh! It's you, I— I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"No need to apologize. Did I scare you?"

Behind Eren, some customers look up from their coffees to gawk at him — the penalty that comes with achieving some stardom (and the unfortunate consequences of being blessed with unnaturally beautiful cheekbones).

Mikasa laughs, flustered. Her cheeks give away just how unprepared she is for this encounter.

"A little, yeah. Thought I was gonna get an earful."

"Nope. Just wanted to stop by and see you."

See me? It's too good to be true.

"Uh, you did?" Mikasa chides herself. This flirting isn't very good, considering that their tongues were practically wrapped together just yesterday.

Eren leans across the counter, gushing his voice to avoid any pesky eavesdropping.

"Sure did. You're a fun co-star. That's rare these days. Plus, you're a pretty good kisser, too."

Instantly, Mikasa's hand covers her face, the redness flushed across her features too much to bear — Eren Jaeger likes my kissing. Me.

Undisturbed by her inability to accept his compliments with any decorum, Eren continues, glancing quickly at the clock on the wall.

"Do you have a break coming up? I'm done for the day. Thought we could go for a walk. If you want."

It's starting to dawn on her how quickly her life has been rocketed off its predicted trajectory because of a resemblance to another actress.

Is he actually asking me out? She hasn't felt this giddy in— well, since his last movie came out.

"I'm off in ten minutes, actually. I'd— I'd love to."

"Great. Then it's settled. I'll take you on a tour."

A lackluster shift becomes the second-best she's ever worked, just trailing behind yesterday's. She smiles so brightly, hard enough to hurt her cheeks, straining the muscles that she usually saves for pretending to tolerate customers.

"Do you still want that recommendation? I can make something for you while you wait."

He grins, amused. "Oh no, I don't like coffee. Just needed something cute to get your attention."

Unwilling to let her get the last laugh, Eren sticks a bill into the tip jar and slinks off to one of the tables, smiling at her from hidden his hand.

Mikasa blushes.

He might be a good actor, but he's just as terrible at hiding a crush as I am.

— (Hope you enjoyed reading! It would be so fun to imagine how they'll spend their walk and how their little courtship would develop into a relationship 🩷 eremika wholesome moment was very fun to write after so much angst!)

#darlingkirstein asks #eremika #my writing #actor au

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