#testing the waters of intrigue if you will

[aventurineswife]

Hi! How are you doing? (after breaking your back with SAHSRAU)

Can I please request Aventurine with an s/o who decided to plan a surprise date after noticing he'd been working a lot lately? I'm craving Aventurine fluff these days lol.

Thank you and have a wonderful day ahead, please take care of yourself! Remember to take breaks <3

All In, All Yours

Summary: Noticing that Aventurine has been overworking himself, you decide to surprise him with a carefully planned date night at your shared home. With a candlelit dinner, a playful card game, and a wager of favors, the night unfolds with warmth, teasing, and quiet affection. In the end, Aventurine might just find that, for once, losing isn’t so bad.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Established Relationship, Domestic Moments, Light Banter & Teasing, Soft Aventurine, Acts of Service as Love Language.

A/N: AHAHAHA!! 😭🙏 Thank you thank you, I will, don't worry!!

The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the polished surfaces of their shared apartment, casting elongated shadows that danced with the hum of quiet anticipation. You adjusted the final touches on the dining table—a sleek, dark cloth, a set of gold-rimmed glasses, and a deck of cards neatly placed beside the plated dinner. Everything had to be perfect.

Aventurine had been working non-stop lately, barely stopping to rest between high-stakes negotiations and relentless strategizing. You noticed the way he hid his fatigue behind sharp wit and a smirk that almost fooled you—almost. But tonight, there would be no deals, no calculated risks. Tonight was just for the two of you.

The soft click of the front door signaled his arrival. You turned just in time to see him step inside, his overcoat slightly dusted from travel, his hat tilted at a rakish angle. His eyes flicked to you, scanning the room in one swift glance before returning to meet your gaze with something unreadable—intrigued, perhaps even touched.

“Well, well. What’s all this?” His voice carried the usual lilt of amusement, but there was a warmth beneath it, an almost imperceptible softness that only you got to see.

You grinned, stepping closer and reaching up to ease the hat from his head. “A surprise. You’ve been working too hard, and I figured you deserved a night off.”

He let you take the hat, watching you with a look of measured delight. “A gamble, setting all this up without knowing my schedule. What if I had been caught up in another endless meeting?”

You gave a playful roll of your eyes. “Then I would’ve gone there myself and dragged you home.”

Aventurine let out a low chuckle, finally shrugging off his coat. “Oh, darling, that would have been a sight. But lucky for you—” he reached up to loosen his tie, his movements languid “—I’m all yours for the evening.”

The warmth in your chest spread at his words. You guided him to the table, where he slid into his seat with the effortless grace of a man used to high-class establishments. His gloved fingers ghosted over the playing cards beside his plate, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“A game?”

You settled into your own seat, chin resting in your palm. “I figured we could mix a little fun with dinner. A friendly bet.”

Aventurine leaned in, eyes glinting. “You’re proposing a wager against me? My dear, I do hope you know what you’re getting into.”

You smirked, tapping the deck. “Winner gets a favor of their choosing. No limits.”

He hummed in approval, shuffling the deck with a practiced ease, the cards flipping through his fingers like second nature. “Now that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The game unfolded between bites of food and easy conversation. He played like he did everything else in life—strategic, smooth, always testing the waters with careful bluffs and sharp reads. But tonight, there was no cutthroat ambition, only the playful back-and-forth of two people reveling in each other’s company.

At some point, he let out a soft hum of amusement, setting his cards down with a lazy satisfaction. “Looks like you win, sweetheart.”

You blinked, looking down at your hand. He had the better set of cards.

Your gaze flicked up, suspicious. “You let me win.”

Aventurine rested his chin on his hand, smirking. “Did I?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t confirm or deny, only watching you with that unreadable gaze again. Then, after a beat, he reached for your hand, turning it over in his own. The contrast of your skin against his black glove was stark, but the warmth that seeped through was unmistakable.

“So, tell me,” he murmured, thumb tracing idle patterns against your palm, “what’s my prize?”

You grinned. “Simple. You relax for the rest of the night. No work, no scheming. Just you and me.”

Aventurine exhaled a slow breath, something unspoken passing through his expression before he leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “You truly are merciless.”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “And you love it.”

His smirk softened into something real, something just for you. “That, my dear, is a bet I’d never wager against.”

[starlvcied]

ꨄ framed rivalry (REWRITE) | TEASER

just one of my favorite scenes :pp felt like i had to share before yall got too bored

The Thursday rain had started sometime during fifth period, soft and unamusing, tapping against the windows like an afterthought. By the time you stepped into the photography club room that afternoon, it was falling in steady sheets, turning the world outside into a grayscale watercolor. When Daria and Livvy slipped in, they made teasing comments about how your damp hair made you look like a “pretty wet rat.” You laughed it off. At least you weren’t an ugly wet rat.

A few club members had already trickled in. Most of them lingered near the windows, pointing their phones at the streaked glass, or holding up cameras to catch the gloomy aesthetic. You gave them a half smile, nodded, then headed straight for the back cabinets. You’d plan to organize the archive today. It was menial work. The kind of thing you could lose yourself and without having to think too much, which was exactly what you needed.

Because thinking had only led to him.

You’d barely touch the handle of the cabinet when the door slid open behind you. Of course.

Rin.

He didn’t say anything when he stepped in, but he didn’t need to. His presence was unmistakable. Like cold air, brushing the back of your neck. You pretended to be busy sorting photo folders. It was easier than making eye contact.

“Everyone’s obsessed with the rain today," you muttered, thumbing through a stack of old film sleeves. “As if it’s the first time water’s fallen from the sky.”

Rin’s voice came from behind you. Quiet, but not hesitant.

“It’s good light.”

You turned out slightly, glancing at him from over your shoulder. He was adjusting the camera strap around his neck. His hair was slightly damp from the walk over, dark strands, clinging to his forehead.

“You like taking pictures of the rain now?”

He shrugged eyes flicking to the window. “I like taking pictures of whatever doesn’t move too much.”

A laugh slipped out of you before you could stop it. “What, do people move too fast for you?”

“People are unpredictable,” he said flatly. Fair. “Except you.”

You blinked. And then again. And then again and again until his words settle in. The silence that followed was a little too long.

“…That was almost a compliment,” you said awkwardly, turning back to your folders with a weak attempt at nonchalance. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I took a picture of you,” he said. And you couldn’t help yourself from turning around fully this time.

“…What?”

He was quiet for a second, like he was testing your reaction. Then he moved closer, just a few steps, but enough that you could feel the shift in the air. “It was last week during clean up.”

You approached him slowly, unsure whether to be irritated, intrigued, or suspicious. Rin had his camera in hand. He clicked a few buttons, then held it out to you without a word. You hesitated before taking it. And then— you saw it.

The photo was dimly lit, a bit grainy. Taking near the end of a club meeting, when the sun had dipped low, and the curtains were only half drawn. You were crouched near the bottom shelf of a cabinet, organizing lens cases. Hair slightly messy. Elbow resting on your knee. Eyes unfocused. You weren’t posing. You weren’t even aware of the camera.

You just looked.. tired. But peaceful. You stared at it longer than you meant to.

“I was testing shutter speed,” Rin said, like he needed an excuse. Didn’t realize I got that one until later.”

You kept staring.

It was good. Too good. It wasn’t just technically sound, it felt intentional. Like he’d captured a piece of you that even you didn’t recognize most days.

“This is creepy,” you finally muttered, voice a little hoarse. “You know that, right?"

His mouth twitched. Just barely. “You always say that when I surprise you.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Okay.”

You handed the camera back, avoiding his eyes. “Delete it.”

“I won’t.”

You looked up sharply. “Excuse me?”

“I won’t delete it," he repeated. “Unless you really hate it.”

The fact that he even offered was surprising. But you didn’t answer. Because deep down, part of you didn’t want it gone. And you hated that. You turned away again, hands, gripping the cabinet door tighter than necessary. The quiet between you stretched thin. Like a fishing line about to snap.

“I’m not… used to being seen like that,” you said softly.

Rin didn’t say anything right away. Then, “Maybe that’s why I wanted to keep it.”

You shut the cabinet. Hard. And without looking at him, you muttered, “You’re unbelievably annoying.”

He moved toward the window again, and you could tell he was smiling by the way his voice dropped.

“You say that a lot, too.”

hehe i'm so excited to post the whole thing ahhhhh !!!! tags : @mixolya @x3nafix @rinniebinniebay @levihanmyotp @anqelkoz @ihsoti @lily-isalittlegirl @megumismyhusband @aisqka

[mobius-m-mobius]

Lokius + touch in season 2 / (season 1)

[nekomuse]

Salesman Danny

My brain did that thing where it just says "Hey wouldn't this be funny?"

There was a knock on the door. The room fell silent, nobody knocked on this door. People either entered because they could, or were summoned and then let in.

Ra's, slightly more intrigued than annoyed, told the person to enter.

The door opened, in came a tall man with a rather big box pulled behind him.

"Hello, thank you for having me!" The man glanced at the lazarus pits and slightly crinkled his nose before turning back to Ra's.

"It's good I came now, before it's too late and your pool of ectoplasm gets more corrupted. In this spirit, may I present you the Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0! For all your filtering needs! If you buy the Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0 subscription we will even come by to change the filter container each quarter." He pulled out what looked like a big pool filter, with added boxes, the boxes had green lines and Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0 was painted over the side above the highest line.

"I could give you a demonstration, however with how contaminated your ectoplasm pool is it will take a while to fully filter it." Ra's decided to just let the man talk, giving him a nod. He watched as the filter was placed to the edge of the lazarus pool, half submerged before a button was pressed and a low humm was heard.

Lazarus water was pulled into the filter and after a minute what appeared to be lighter colored lazarus water flowed out from the other side.

"The filter can be mounted to the side like it is now, or it can float around with the added floater. If children use your ectoplasm pool I would recomend the mounted version to protect both the filter and the child from accidental damage. We do give out a 20 year warranty with every Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0, we would give out longer warranties but in case of a newer and improved filter being invented in the next ten years it is reccomended to upgrade rather then repair!"

The man stood up again, letting the filter push out the rest of the lazarus water before wiping it with a cloth that seemed to also be Fenton branded. He walked over to Ra's, opening one of the boxes on the filter to show a slime-like substance that had a dark, near black, green color.

"As you can see your ectoplasm pool is very contaminated, as such I would reccomend a monthly filter clear instead of quarterly, don't worry about the contamination itself, we have a contract with the Infinite Realms and the Far Frozen to fully recycle it!"

"Recycle?" Ra's eyed the man, maybe this filter would get rid of the problem of the less and less effective pits.

"Yes! A small part will be used for research for better filtration systems, a rather big part will be used to test new medicines against corruption in Ghosts and whatever can not be used will be put into the cleansing sprout in the Infinte Realms to make sure nobody gets corrupted by accident!" He clapped his hands after he put the filter back into his box.

"If you want I can leave a pamphlet with you for other inventions and services Fenton Works offers for Liminals and Ecto Entities! We do also have a website for better overview! I would reccomend you the Fenton Ecto Cleansing Shots to get rid of the contamination in your own ecto, it works wonders and can be injected if you would rather not drink it." He opened the pamphlet and showed a small vial with light green lazarus water, calm. Next to it were two injectors, one manual and one automatic.

Ra's took the pamphlet, calmly looking through it. Two older generations of Fenton Ectoplasm Filters were in it, as well as a few other things to cleanse ecto, some circle that advertises as a floating device, as well as three generations of Fenton Thermos at the end. Those were advertised as both an ecto holding device as well as a container for mean spirited Ecto Entities.

"You sell all of this?" He looked at the man again, aside from being even taller than Ra's himself he looked rather unassuming.

"Yes! There is an order label at the end as well, we deliver per Portal so there are transportation costs listed but we do always deliver on time! Our website had more services as well, now would you like to purchase the Fenton Ectoplasm Filter 5.0 with subscription?" Ra's looked back into the pamphlet, the filter was expensive, the subscription as well, but it wasn't money he couldn't easily spend.

And if it did turn out this filter would get rid of his problems it was money very well spend.

"I just have to fill out this little form here?" The man seemed to jump towards him with a wide smile, showing fangs and a bit too many teeth.

"Yes! If you would just cross off what you want to purchase I'll take the order with me now and you'll be guaranteed delivery and installation tomorrow! Please show proof of payment upon delivery for no delays."

Damian stared at the lazarus pool, it was calm and a lighter color than usual, the only difference in surroundings was the lowly humming filter at the edge. He looked towards his grandfather while holding his hurt arm.

"Do go on Damian." So he did, the lazarus pit he knew to be bubbling was now calm like a lake. He felt the difference when he stepped in, it wasn't like the water tried to pull him under. His arm healed faster than it ever did before. His mother smiled, his grandfather looked pleased.

"It was worth investing into Fenton Works, genius inventors, their son is around your age Talia."

"Mother already has father, grandfather!" Damian protested as he climbed out of the pool.

"Yes of course, Damian. How is your newest aquisition doing dear daughter?"

"Jason is doing fine, he seems to take well to the online therapist you found for him." Ra's looked content as he thought about the website he had visited after Danny had sold him the filter.

Truly a masterpiece of a business. The front and center their inventions, a side for cyber security and programs, a shop for plants and plantcare services, as well as a therapist. Fenton Works was a marvel he gladly invested in. And if that meant he would get early access to their inventions? Well, he did like the new shield around his bases.

[togeppy]

the waiting game ;

tsukishima kei x reader

reader is childhood friends with tsukki, and has an ongoing bit where she'll ask him out periodically. she's grown used to him saying no, and doesn't expect it when he actually says yes.

You would easily consider Tsukishima Kei your closest friend. You grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and were in the same class on multiple occasions, so your frequent proximity had forced the two of you to become very familiar with one another. Though he had a personality that others may find sour, knowing him for so long meant that you had seen every version of him, and knew that there was more to him than the reputation that he had gained. Sure, he was arrogant and standoffish a vast majority of the time, but you knew that he was also kind and considerate towards those he cared about. 

You didn't think that it was possible to gain feelings for a friend so close to you, but over the years you couldn't help but find yourself growing more and more intrigued with the idea of being in a relationship with your best friend. You cherished the friendship that the two of you had, but you couldn't help but wish that it could blossom into something more. Even as a child, you knew you wanted to make a move, but were held back by the fear that he would take it negatively, and you would lose a friend that meant the world to you. Sure, you both had other friends outside of each other, but a life without Tsukishima Kei by your side was not something you wanted to risk. 

The first time you asked him out was a joke to test the waters. The situation had been perfectly laid out for you, so you figured you might as well give it an attempt. 

At twelve years old, you, Tsukki, and your deskmates sat chatting about how White Day was approaching, with some members of the conversation more enthusiastic than others. One boy excitedly announced that he had started dating another girl in the class, and was planning on surprising her with candy on the special day. One by one, each of the boys rattled off who they wanted to give a present on the holiday, while the girls helped pitch ideas on how they could make their surprises even better. 

"Who are you getting a present for, Tsukishima?" a voice sounded next to you, a bright eyed girl addressing the one member of the circle who had not made a contribution. 

Tsukki stared blankly at her, before shaking his head, "No one, I don't have a girlfriend." 

The boy seated next to him accusingly pointed a finger in his direction. "There's gotta be someone you want to get a gift for. It's White Day, this is your chance to get one!" 

Your best friend scoffed, folding his arms in defiance. "It's a made up holiday, and a girlfriend right now would be a waste of time and money. Why would I buy chocolates for someone I don't have any interest in?" 

Sounds of protest came from everyone sitting at the table. Upon hearing his thoughts, you supposed that should have been a clear enough answer to whether or not he had an interest in anyone, but you couldn't help but think that he was only staying quiet because you were present at the table. While somewhat disappointed, you knew that this was your chance to prod him further and get a more concrete answer.

"Date me, I'm your best friend and I'll gladly take the chocolates," you half-joked, trying to play it off as cool as a twelve year old possibly could.

Your answer came quickly, not in the form of an answer, but in the ease of him brushing you off, not even considering the possibility that you could genuinely mean what you had just said. 

"I'm not getting anything for anyone, find someone else to buy your chocolates." 

Following that conversation, it had been a whole year before you took another chance at proposing the idea of a relationship, fearing that you would be shot down once again. It was a similar situation; the environment had given you the chance to casually slide the idea into the conversation, and you couldn't give up the opportunity. 

You and now-thirteen-year-old Tsukishima Kei stood in a convenience store on your way home from school, picking out snacks after you had spent a long day with your clubs at school. You were in the art club and had to take home a painting that you had done on a disproportionately large canvas. As you decided you wanted a barbecue pork bun, Tsukki picked yours up on your behalf, seeing as your hands were fully occupied with your artwork. Standing at the till, he gave the payment to the store owner, an elderly man with a strong gaze, and took the bag that was handed to him in return. 

"Young man, why don't you give the food to your girlfriend and carry that massive painting for her instead?" the elderly man chimed as the two of you began to pull away from the counter. 

Both your eyes widened, and you could see that the taller boy's cheeks had gone slightly red at being criticized by the man before you, along with the realization that you had been incorrectly identified as his girlfriend. He opened his mouth in protest, but the store owner gave him a pointed look, forcing him to place the bag back on the counter and take the painting from your arms. A large grin broke out on your face as you picked up the buns and gave the man a toothy smile while the two of you gave him a small bow before exiting the store. 

"That's more like it," you heard the owner's voice carry from behind you as the doors to exit the store chimed while you walked into the evening air. 

The second you were out of earshot of the man, you broke out into laughter, immediately turning to the boy who had turned an even deeper shade of red. 

"Hear that Kei? Carry the massive painting for your girlfriend," you mocked, taking your bun out of the bag and taking a bite, ensuring to make a grand show of the amount of freedom your arms had in that moment. 

"Tsk," was the only response heard from the boy as he turned his face away from you to try and hide the red that was slowly disappearing from his cheeks. 

"I say we should start dating so that you can become my personal artwork carrier," you quipped as you skipped ahead of him along your path. 

"Never going to happen," his voice sounded from behind you, unamused. 

"Go out with me!" you called back, continuing to skip ahead of him. 

"No." 

That incident had begun the joke that ran between the two of you. You would ask him out, and he would respond with some form of deadpan denial. Your friends had grown accustomed to it, expecting you to make the joke from time to time. On the days you spent with both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the shorter boy would even occasionally play along. 

"What in the world is that poster for?" you asked one day, noting an obnoxiously coloured poster stuck to a pole near the corner where you and Tsukishima split off from Yamaguchi on your paths home. 

"A couples dancing competition," the green haired boy read off with a laugh. 

"I wonder what the turnout would be, based on how ugly that poster is," your best friend commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the image before the three of you. 

"The two of you should sign up," Yamaguchi responded jokingly, matching the smile that was growing across your face, "It would be a sight." 

"You're so right, both of our incredibly above average dancing skills would blow the competition away," you joked, "the only thing we're missing is being an actual couple." 

"I'm not going out with you." 

"It was worth a shot." 

As you grew older, the two of you continued to remain best friends. You had shared sentiments over schoolwork, had jokes shared between each other, and you knew the ins-and-outs of each others' lives. You were closer than ever, but the fact that you two had only grown closer meant that it hurt even more that the two of you wouldn't be anything more than friends. As far as you were concerned, he only thought of you as a cherished friend, and all the times you had asked him out were nothing more than a gimmick resulting from a comfort level obtained from your level of friendship. You loved having him as a friend, but as you grew older and more mature, your feelings grew with you, and your childhood crush developed into infatuation with the boy living down the street. 

When high school came around, you both joined Karasuno together, acknowledging that it made sense for you to attend the same school once again. After the incident when you were thirteen, he had formed a habit of helping you carry your larger paintings on the walk home, and in turn you feigned some interest in the volleyball club, hearing what he and Yamaguchi had to say about their matches. 

When the boys volleyball team qualified for the finals of their tournament, you joined your school in supporting your two friends as they faced the top school in the prefecture. You were one of many loud voices cheering the boys on, though you liked to believe that amongst them all, you were cheering the loudest. When Tsukishima made the first block against the opposing ace, you felt a burning pride to see the boy you liked finally begin to show some emotion on the court, your excitement visible from the stands. 

Though you didn't understand the game well, it had you on your toes; everything that took place was crucial to the boys' success in the game. So encapsulated by the gameplay, and cheering on the series of blocks that Tsukki had done only moments before, you were confused when murmurs started to pass through the crowd and the players began to crowd around the tall blonde. It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was injured and was gripping his hand while the others spoke to him. Concerned, you left your spot amongst your classmates and approached his brother, who had a matching look of concern etched upon his face. 

"Akiteru, did you see what happened? Is Kei injured?" you questioned, standing next to the older Tsukishima brother. 

"I hope not," he muttered back, eyes carefully watching what was going on below. 

You both watched intently as your friend wrapped a towel around his hand and began to walk towards the gymnasium exit.

"C'mon, let's go see what happened," he stated, as you both left the stands along with the first-year Karasuno manager to go meet his younger brother. Walking down the steps you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of all of you, and you tried to shake it off so that the injured boy would not sense it too. The three of you met him outside the doors of the gym. 

"Kei, are you okay?" you asked, somewhat redundantly; of course he wasn't 'okay' if he was leaving the game because of an injury. 

"I'm fine," he quipped back, trying to act more nonchalant than you could tell he felt inside. You observed your friend as he had a back and forth with his brother over his physical state. He commented on how it was nice to rest after all the sets- you could tell that there was some truth to the statement, but you could also see that he had finally found his groove, and really wanted to be back in the game. As he began to walk away, you could see the frustration emanating from his stance, and you and his brother decided to follow him and the older manager to the infirmary.

You ran up to catch him, and walked alongside Tsukki, Kiyoko and Akiteru. You walked in silence, knowing that the middle blocker was busy ruminating on the events of the game, and could only think of getting back on the court, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. As the four of you arrived at the infirmary, you sat beside him and the two others stood near the door behind you while the nurse took a look at his hand. You could tell that he was scared that the nurse would announce his hand was too severely injured and he would have to sit out the remainder of the match. 

To try and ease some of the nerves that he would be feeling, you grabbed his non-injured hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

"I'm sure it's fine and you'll be back soon," you whispered so that only he could clearly hear, "and once you get back, you'll win the game and go to nationals." 

You gave him a small encouraging smile, finally meeting his eyes, and for a few moments the boy did nothing but stare back at you. 

After a short pause he finally responded with a nod, "I hope so," before dropping his eyes as the nurse analyzed and dressed his wounds. The remainder of the visit, you four sat in silence, the volleyball player evidently deep in thought over what he would do when he returned to the match, however his eyes occasionally fluttered away, as if something were distracting him.

Soon, his finger had been wrapped and immobilized, and the nurse announced that he would be allowed to return to the game. The four of you sprung up, and began jogging back to the gym, Tsukki slightly out-pacing the rest of you. You and Akiteru stood by the doors as the other two ran to the coach to explain his condition and request that he be put back in the game. You and the other Tsukishima brother ran back up to the stands to watch upon seeing him take a seat on the bench, the substitution card in his hand. 

You watched as the remainder of the match unfolded, Tsukki back on the floor, knowing that he was still in pain though he tried to hide it. You didn't think it was possible, but you were even more captivated by the game in front of you, every movement drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your seat, more and more in awe of your best friend’s tenacity. When the final point was scored and Karasuno were announced as the winners, you jumped out of your seat, cheers and hollers all around you as your entire section cheered on the victory of your school's team. 

The victory party had begun, with Karasuno staff and students overjoyed alike, excitement filling the air. The team bowed to your cheering section, and you let out more cheers to your two friends before you. You first made eye contact with Yamaguchi, who had found you in the crowd sooner and you gave him a smile and a thumbs up to show your congratulations. Noticing his teammate's line of vision, your best friend found you as well and you beamed even more, changing your thumbs up into a heart that you made with both your hands. You could almost hear the half-laugh, half-scoff that came from the boy as he immediately turned away from your antics. You couldn't help but laugh as well when you turned away from your seat and started to join the crowd that had begun to trickle out of the stands. 

When everyone had finished mingling in the lobby, you excused yourself from your other friends to go greet the volleyball players who were dispersed outside the gym. You easily spotted the blond head of hair that stood taller and slightly apart from his teammates, the green-haired boy nowhere in sight. 

You decided that the best course of action to get his attention was to launch yourself at his back. So you did, and he let out a yelp as he caught you behind him, a small exasperated laugh being let out. You let go of him and gave him a proper hug, but from the front, despite his protests. 

"What did I say, go back soon, win the game, go to nationals," you said matter-of-factly, pointing a joking finger in his face once you had finally freed him of the hug, "I think I can see the future."

"I mean we were already so close to winning, the prediction was right in your face," the boy responded sassily, obviously trying to get back at your outrageous remark. 

"I don't know, I think I have a gift," you continued joking, "I'll show up to all of the nationals games and start predicting who's going to win, just you wait and see." 

"There are too many games going on, you'd never go to them all," the boy responded, trying to shut down your new aspirations. 

"No, I'll do it, just you wait and see. I'll go to all of yours too, up until you win it all." 

"You'd look like a stalker, the crazy fan of Karasuno who won't leave us alone." 

"Hmm... no," you responded back, "The best course of action is for us to start dating because then I would no longer be a crazed fan and instead a loyal girlfriend there to support my boyfriend." 

"Mhm okay." 

"And then if anyone asks I could just say that I... wait did you just say okay?" 

You had continued on your rambling, so focused on the dumb situation that you had thought up, that you had completely failed to notice the boy's response, or the way that he had been looking at you since the moment you had met him outside the gym. 

He now stood, smiling smugly at you, and you realized that while you had been going on and on, he had been looking down at you, a newfound admiration on his face. You couldn't say when exactly the change had been made, but you realized now that he was looking at you in a way that he had never once before, and you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach. 

"I did say okay," he stated plainly, placing a hand on the top of your head, making light of the fact that he towered over you. 

You were speechless and could do nothing but stare back at him in confusion. 

"After all this time, did you want me to say no again?" he asked, when almost a whole minute passed without a response from you. 

"NO, no not at all," you said finally, accepting that he wasn't just messing with you and actually meant it, "it just caught me off guard." 

The boy removed his hand from your head and smiled once again, less smug this time. 

"Okay, so now I'm expecting you to show up to all our games at nationals and be the supportive girlfriend cheering me on constantly." 

"Girlfriend already?" you retorted, once again taking his non-injured hand in yours, the difference being that now he held it as well, the feelings no longer one sided, "What happened to taking a girl out on a few dates before claiming that title?" 

"Did you really ask me out all those times just to not even want to be called my girlfriend?" he asked back, eyes narrowing in disbelief at the comment that you just made. 

"Nevermind, girlfriend it is." 

Bonus:

A week had passed since the volleyball team had won the game against Shiratorizawa. The boys had been busy following the win, so you finally had a moment to treat both your friends to a congratulatory dinner. The three of you walked in the direction of the restaurant on a Sunday, with you standing in between your two friends. You passed a hideous poster, identical to the one that the three of you had previously joked about. 

"Now that we've mastered volleyball, I think it's time for you two to take up dancing seriously," Yamaguchi smiled, recalling the previous joke that you had made over the poster. 

"I wholeheartedly agree," you said back, "this time we even meet the couple criteria." 

Yamaguchi stopped walking, turning to look at the two of you. You innocently looped your arm into Tsukki's, though your boyfriend stood still, no reaction evident on his face or through his body language. 

A few seconds passed before Yamaguchi unfroze and continued walking, a smile now plastered on his face. 

"Congratulations," was all he said at first, before he finished his train of thought, "but it was really about time." 

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[greengoblinswifey]

imagine having an affair with your stepfather hwang in-ho

warnings— stepcest, minors DNI.

Stepdad!In-ho was the last man you expected your mother to bring home, but from the moment you met him, there was something about him that made your pussy throb. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered a little too long when he thought no one was looking, or the way his smooth voice dropped low whenever he spoke to you. It felt wrong, the pull you felt toward him, but you convinced yourself it was nothing. He was just attractive, that was all.

Stepdad!In-ho proposed to your mother suspiciously fast. Barely a few months after meeting, a diamond ring gleamed on her finger, and she was gushing about wedding plans. You tried to ignore the way he met your gaze as she showed off her ring, his lips curling into the faintest smirk. “Fast, isn’t it?” you had commented. “Why wait?” he replied smoothly, taking a sip of his drink. His gaze flickered to your tits briefly before returning to your mother, but you felt it.

Stepdad!In-ho had a presence that filled a room, making it impossible to ignore him. He was always composed, always in control, and somehow, that only made him more frustrating. More intriguing. More attractive. Every brush of his hand on your waist when passing by, every lingering glance, every low chuckle at something you said—it was as if he was playing a game only the two of you knew existed.

Stepdad!In-ho never crossed any lines—yet, but he didn’t have to. The tension was in the silences, in the way he stood a little too close, in the way your breath hitched when he looked at you like he saw something he shouldn’t. You knew it was wrong to think about him like that, but knowing didn’t stop the heat that pooled in your core whenever he was near.

Stepdad!In-ho was good at keeping secrets—you could tell. Maybe that was why you found yourself drawn to him. Because despite everything, you wanted to know what lay beneath the surface. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted you to find out.

Stepdad!In-ho had a habit of appearing at the right place at the right time, always watching. In the hallway late at night when you left your room for water, when you passed him in the living room, when your mother wasn’t paying attention. His gaze never wavered, never faltered. And yet, he never said a word about it. Neither did you.

Stepdad!In-ho wasn’t one for unnecessary conversation, but when he spoke, his voice carried weight. “Be careful,” he once murmured when you nearly bumped into him in the kitchen, steadying you with a firm hand on your waist before stepping back like nothing had happened. The touch was brief, insignificant. But it lingered in your mind longer than it should have.

Stepdad!In-ho made sure your mother never wanted for anything, lavish gifts, weekend trips with her friends, anything to keep her occupied. And that left you alone with him more often than you expected. The air between you was always filled with underlying sexual tension neither of you acknowledged. Until one evening, when your mother was away, and you finally cornered him, not expecting him to retaliate, not expecting the shift in his expression when you tested the boundaries you both had pretended didn’t exist.

Stepdad!In-ho smirked, his usual unreadable expression giving way to something else. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” His voice was deep, amused, but there was something dangerous beneath it. Something that made your pulse race. You didn’t answer. And for the first time, he didn’t hold back.

Stepdad!In-ho didn’t stop you. The moment your lips pressed against his, you thought he would push you away, tell you this was wrong, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands found your ass, squeezing and pulling you closer, his grip firm like he had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had. You could feel how hard his big cock was pressed up against you.

Stepdad!In-ho was always composed, always in control, but not now. His lips moved against yours with purpose, claiming, his hands roaming in a way that made your pussy throb. When he finally pulled away, his forehead resting against yours, his voice was lower than usual. “You know there’s no going back now, right?” You swallowed hard, nodding. You didn’t want to go back.

Stepdad!In-ho took every opportunity to fuck you after that. When your mother was home, his touches were fleeting, his fingers grazing yours as he handed you something, standing just a little too close when no one was looking, his lips brushing against your ear when he leaned in to say something low enough that only you could hear. But when she was away? He didn’t hold back.

Stepdad!In-ho was always in control, he never let you doubt where you stood with him. “I own you now,” he whispered against your skin one night, after he had emptied his cum inside you. “You’re mine.” And all you could do was whimper, his words sinking into you.

Stepdad!In-ho had only one rule—“Don’t tell your mother.” But he didn’t have to worry. You would never tell her. Not when you wanted his cock like the air you breathed. Not when it felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

Stepdad!In-ho fucked you on every surface of the house he bought for you and your mother. That included the bed he shared with her. You were his now, after all. By the time he’d be finished with you, you’d be a dumb, babbling mess. Trembling and fucked out. Your pleasure was his responsibility, and he loved to make you feel good as you moaned daddy in his ear. The nickname was innocent at first, even your mother was on board with it, but you and him both knew exactly what you meant by it.

Stepdad!In-ho took you anywhere, anytime. After a while, he stopped caring if your mother was in the house during one of your escapades. He’d simply put his hand over your mouth and tell you to “shut the fuck up and take my cock.” Being the good girl you were, you did exactly as you were told. She didn’t think twice about the amount of time you were spending together. In fact, she encouraged it, wanting her daughter and her new stepfather to get to know each other better.

Stepdad!In-ho’s best decision was marrying your mother. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have gotten such a tight, wet pussy to get every night. He wouldn’t have gotten a pretty young thing on his arm. He wouldn’t have had his good girl to do anything he wanted. You were everything he could ever want. His real life fantasy fulfilled.

[defectivevillain]

the human condition

pairings: the brothers/Reader, Diavolo/Reader, Solomon/Reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic)

summary: You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain. “Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task. “Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” “A paper cut,” Lucifer repeats with bemusement and skepticism. “You got hurt by a piece of paper," he says incredulously.

The demon brothers learn a valuable lesson as they grow to include you in their lives: humans are very strange.

word count: 3.3k | ao3 version

warnings: mentions of sickness, medical care, injury.

I know demons are virtually the same as humans canonically, but I’ve always wanted to explore the brothers’ reactions to human things MC does, whether it’s a sneeze or a bruise or getting sick… And, well, here we are.

This won’t be canon compliant. This is set to take place sometime after Episode 15 and all seven brothers are included. The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used**. There’s one bit where they’re stated to wear glasses & another where they had braces and currently wear retainers. But I feel like that’s a pretty easy thing to imagine, so… yeah!

**The reader is referred to with it/its pronouns once in Belphegor's snippet—skip reading it if it bothers you. i use these pronouns so i wrote that mostly for me 🤘

“Darling, what is that ghastly thing?” Asmodeus asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“What thing?” you frown. The two of you are sitting in his bedroom, sprawled across his bed as you talk about stupid things. Asmodeus had been ranting about something when his eyes locked on something near you with startling focus. 

“This!” he says, pointing at your forearm. 

You follow his gaze, finding a spot of slightly discolored skin halfway down your arm. “Oh,” you say, “It’s just a bruise.” 

“A bruise?” Asmodeus repeats, his nose scrunched in confusion. 

“You know, a bruise,” you repeat. There’s nothing close to comprehension on his face. “...A contusion or whatever?” …Still nothing.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” the demon frowns. “And wow, is it unsightly.” Asmodeus remarks, disgust passing over his face before intrigue takes over it. He leans over you, before proceeding to poke at your skin curiously.  

“Ow, Asmo—” you hiss, batting his hand away. You don’t put much strength behind the gesture, but Asmodeus goes along with it anyway and removes his hand.  

“It hurts?” he then blinks owlishly. 

“Yes,” you say, letting your arm fall back to your side.  

Asmodeus shakes his head in disbelief. “Humans are so weird.” 

It’s late at night and you need to refill your glass of water. You’re tiredly walking out to the kitchen when a sudden noise breaks through the silence. 

“Hey.”

You inhale sharply, fear coursing through you until you recognize the familiar voice. “Holy shit, Beel,” you murmur, placing your hand on your chest momentarily and squinting through the darkness. You can only see the general outline of his form. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Beelzebub says. You think he must be frowning now. Again, it’s difficult to tell. “I thought you saw me.”

“Um…” you squint again. “No.” 

“Oops,” he says. You hear a light shuffling sound. “Can you see me now?” he asks. 

You blink again. “Sort of.”

Suddenly he’s standing right in front of you. You can’t suppress a flinch this time, instinctually leaning backwards. 

“Beel, stop that—!” you exclaim, nearly stumbling over yourself. 

He sets you straight with a hand on your shoulder, a frown rising on his face. “You can’t see in the dark, then?” Beelzebub hums.

“No,” you sigh. It’s as if he didn’t believe you—like he had to test it for himself to make sure. 

“Hmph,” Beelzebub frowns again. Or, at least, it sounds like he’s frowning. “That’s inconvenient.”

“I guess,” you concede. 

“What’s wrong with your skin?” Belphegor asks you one morning, when the two of you are relaxing in his room. 

“Hm?” you blink, momentarily distracted from looking down at your D.D.D.

“Your skin,” he restates. “Look,” he demands, pointing down at your forearm. You follow the demon’s gaze, only to find goosebumps scattered across your skin. 

“Oh, those are just goosebumps,” you answer casually. 

“Goose… bumps,” Belphegor repeats, his nose scrunched in evident revulsion. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure why they’re called that, but they show up on your skin if you get too cold.”

“Well, stop being cold,” Belphegor orders, as if you’re inconveniencing him. He probably thinks you are, although it’s entirely out of your control. You hardly have a chance to react before you’re promptly pelted in the face with a sweatshirt. “Here.” 

“Oof,” you say, peeling it off the crown of your head and putting it on. “Thanks, Belphie.”

“Shut up,” he murmurs. There’s a hint of pink rising on the back of his neck, as if he’s embarrassed. “Stupid human. Can’t even keep itself warm.” He huffs. You valiantly ignore the remark. 

“Why are there teeth in the bathroom?” Levi asks as he enters the room. And wow, what a way to make an entrance. Satan and you look over at Levi from where you’d been reading. 

“What?” Satan blinks questioningly, clearly just as confused as you are.

“Teeth,” Levi repeats himself, “in the bathroom.” 

How he expects the same exact remark to make more sense, you have no idea. It takes you a few moments to connect the dots, but you do eventually. “Oh!” you exclaim. “Those are just my retainers.”

“Your retainers,” Satan repeats. There’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “And what do they retain, exactly?” he asks sardonically. You scoff. 

“My teeth,” you respond. “Obviously,” you add, if only to combat his sarcasm. 

“So… what do you do with them?” Levi asks curiously, tilting his head as he looks at you. 

“I wear them every night when I sleep,” you explain. “They’re supposed to prevent my teeth from shifting.”

“Your teeth shift?” Satan exclaims incredulously. “You mean they can move?” 

“Um— yes,” you respond. “Human teeth always move, even after a person has braces.”

“What are braces?” Levi demands. 

“They’re metal brackets that an orthodontist puts on your teeth when they’re crooked. They guide the teeth into a more neat shape.” 

“I’m convinced you just made that up,” Satan says helpfully. 

You roll your eyes. “I had braces. But since my teeth can still move, I have to wear the retainers.”

“For how long?” Levi blinks. 

“The rest of my life.”

Satan whistles. “That sucks.”

You shrug amicably. 

“And I thought normies were weird,” Levi huffs. “But humans are even weirder.”

“Hey, wait: how’d you even see my retainers in the first place?” you realize aloud. “I always keep them in a case… in a drawer.” You wouldn’t just leave them on the counter—that would be pretty unsanitary. 

As if caught in a lie, Levi freezes and quickly bolts away. “Gotta go shower, bye—!” he says, slamming the bathroom door shut with more force than necessary. 

You stare after him in disbelief, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from your throat. 

“He was just curious,” Satan explains with a shrug. “Not that I blame him. Do your teeth truly keep growing?”

“Not growing, necessarily,” you contemplate. “Babies are born with baby teeth. Then, as you get older, you lose your baby teeth as your adult teeth grow in.”

“That’s similar to demons,” Satan confirms. 

“Our teeth eventually stop growing, but they can shift and move still,” you clarify. 

Satan shakes his head in annoyed disbelief. “Humans are truly an anomaly.”

You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain. 

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task.

“Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” You squint down at your finger and grit your teeth in annoyance. You’re so concentrated that you don’t know Lucifer’s pensive silence or furrowed brows. 

“A….. paper cut,” he restates, a mix of bemusement and concern in his voice. 

“You don’t get those?” you ask. 

“You got hurt by a piece of paper,” Lucifer says incredulously. Suddenly he’s getting to his feet and striding over to you, taking your hand in his and investigating your fingertip. “Hm. You weren’t joking. How strange.”

He continues to study your skin with a frightening intensity. Your hand is almost shaking in his grip, as you attempt to fight off your restlessness at his proximity. Eventually Lucifer sighs and lets his grip fall away. “Does it hurt?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “Paper cuts are just a minor inconvenience… But for whatever reason, they can really hurt sometimes. Feels like your skin is splitting apart.” They really shouldn’t hurt, but they do. One time, you had one that spanned your entire fingertip. This one doesn’t look nearly as bad, fortunately. But it still burns. 

“You’re rather breakable,” the Avatar of Pride notes. 

“It’s just a paper cut,” you feel the need to say defensively.

“Of course,” Lucifer responds, an indulgent and amused smile on his face. There’s a knowing smirk on his face and you roll your eyes, abandoning the argument. 

Solomon and you often get stuck accompanying one another to the human realm whenever you need anything. The demon realm is great, but it doesn’t have everything humans need. Besides, sometimes it’s nice to breathe in some fresh air or be among other humans. 

Today’s visit has a purpose, though. After a rather unfortunate incident involving Mammon, you, and a chandelier, you find yourself with broken glasses. (Thanks, Mammon.) It’s been roughly a year since you’ve had an eye exam, so it’s about time for another appointment anyways. Unfortunately, the Devildom doesn’t have eye doctors (and you still remember the perplexed look on Levi’s face when you casually asked him one day). That’s how you find yourself in your ophthalmologist’s office in the human realm. Solomon dropped you off with the promise that he’d return the moment you texted, leaving you to slowly waste away in the waiting room. 

Fortunately, your name is finally called and you’re able to undergo all of the various examinations. You emerge an hour later with dilated pupils, an updated prescription, and reassurance from the doctor that nothing is amiss. You manage to text Solomon—through slightly blurred vision—and he arrives within five minutes. 

You can only hope to slip into the manor unnoticed. But from the very moment you slip through the front doors, Mammon is bounding up to you like an overexcited puppy. He seems moments away from looping an arm around you and dragging you off into some misguided adventure when he locks eyes with you and freezes. 

“Whoa, what the hell—?” Mammon exclaims, staring at you intently. “Oi, human, don’t tell me ya got possessed—!” His hands clamp on your shoulders and he starts shaking you roughly. 

“Mammon, stop it,” you object, grabbing onto his shoulders and attempting to prevent him from shaking you any harder. He calms down a little, but he still looks confused. “I’m not possessed. I just had an appointment with an eye doctor.”

“Well, how’d they screw up so bad then, huh?” he spits. In another situation, his concern would be touching; but now, it’s mostly just amusing. “Ya look like a shark!”

“It’s just one of the tests,” you explain. “They had to dilate my pupils.” 

“Humans are crazy,” Mammon asserts. He’s studying you from far too close—occasionally changing his angle as if it will somehow give him new insight. “You look so freaky.”

“Thanks, Mammon,” you sigh. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks. “I bet it does; yer such a baby.” The insult seems to be a cover-up for his concern. 

“It doesn’t really hurt,” you reassure him. “It just feels a little strange. The drops really just affect your vision. I can’t focus on things in front of me, and it sort of looks like I’m seeing double.”

“Well, there’s nothing for it but resting your eyes,” Mammon sighs theatrically, looping an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s watch the next episode of Destroyman. ”

“How is that supposed to help my eyes?” you ask skeptically. 

“Hey, I’ve been waiting for ya all day!” Mammon exclaims. “We’re watching the next episode, even if it looks all blurry to you.” The demon is soon yanking you along before you can object. 

“There’s the culprit,” Belphegor remarks, looking up at you as you enter the dining room for breakfast. The brothers are staring at you intently. 

“Good morning to you too,” you huff, shoving your hands in the pockets of your uniform and taking the empty seat at the table. It’s a bit unusual to see all seven brothers at the table like this, especially so early in the morning. “What’d I do?” you blink cluelessly. 

“You don’t remember?” Beel pipes up, blinking at you curiously. He seems to be mid-bite, with some food hanging out of his mouth. Lucifer chides him for table manners and Beel huffs, promptly demolishing the rest of his food. 

“You were roaming the halls in the middle of the night like a ghost!” Mammon explains before anyone else can. He sounds particularly energetic this morning. “It was freaky.”

Roaming the halls at night? You don’t remember doing that, which can only mean one thing. “Oh, I was probably just sleepwalking,” you realize aloud. 

“Wonders truly never cease,” Lucifer says dryly. “Just how many eccentricities do humans possess?” he muses. 

You sigh, remembering all of the strange interactions you’ve had over the past few weeks. “I’m not choosing to do any of this, you know,” you frown. “I can’t control it.” It’s not like you wanted to get a paper cut, or a bruise, or goosebumps. These are just facts of life. 

“We know, dear,” Asmo reassures you. 

“It’s okay,” Levi says, barely sparing you a glance as he stares down at his plate. “None of these human behaviors are super annoying.” That’s very meaningful coming from Levi of all demons. 

“They’re just weird,” Satan supplies helpfully. You roll your eyes at him. 

“It seems my brothers were just… worried,” Lucifer explains. 

“Hey, you were worried too!” Mammon objects. “You were the one to—” Whatever the Avatar of Greed means to say next promptly fades into obscurity, as Lucifer sends his younger brother a murderous glare to silence him. 

“Okay,” you eventually remark, uncomfortable with the sudden tension settling in the room. “Well, sorry to disturb you guys, I guess. Sleepwalking is normal for humans, though.” 

“I’m starting to think nothing about humans is normal,” Satan mutters under his breath. Lucifer nods in agreement. You just roll your eyes and pretend not to hear the remark, serving yourself some food and beginning to eat breakfast. Despite the fanfare, it’s nice to know the brothers care about you—even if they don’t show it in very orthodox ways. 

“Oh,” a familiar voice says one afternoon. You blink blearily, your dizzy vision momentarily clarifying to reveal Diavolo standing over you. You’re crumpled on the floor, your cheek pressed to the cold hardwood as sweat rolls down the nape of your neck. “I must say, when I heard of your absence, I assumed you ditched classes for the day.”

It’s difficult for you to process what he’s saying; his voice sounds warped. The headmaster just hums. “Are you… alright?” he asks. You can barely manage a weak nod. Diavolo sighs. “Forgive me for the foolish question. You’re clearly not alright. Here, let’s get you up…” 

You hardly have the chance to object before the demon is lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing at all. He sets you on your bed with deceptive gentleness, before staring at you and frowning. 

“I don’t suppose you know what’s happening to you,” Diavolo says. 

“I think I’m sick,” you manage to respond. Your voice sounds a little raspy and your airways feel a bit tight. You clear your throat, wincing at the dryness the gesture provokes. You must have a fever, because your body temperature keeps oscillating between frigid cold and searing warmth. Before you can think better of it, you blink dazedly and reach out to grab Diavolo’s hand. “Tell me if I feel warm.”

He’s clearly a bit confused, but he allows you to guide his hand to your temple. 

“You’re hot,” he observes after a moment.

“Thanks,” you huff deliriously.  

“Your temperature,” he clarifies with a knowing smile, shaking his head. “What does this mean?” Diavolo frowns. 

“I have a fever,” you answer. “When a human’s body temperature is too high, it causes sickness.”

“What can be done about it?” he continues. 

“Depends,” you reply. “Sometimes it breaks on its own; sometimes you need antibiotics.” 

“Antibiotics,” Diavolo repeats, the concept clearly foreign to him. “I can’t say I’m familiar. But it’s clear that you should rest. I’ll watch over you.” Whatever else he says is lost on you, as you close your eyes and surrender to the persistent fatigue burning your eyelids. 

You wake several hours later to a room devoid of Diavolo. You’re not exactly surprised that he had to leave—he’s the ruler of the Devildom, after all. He surely has far more important things to do than look after you. You blink away traces of sleep as you look around the room, your vision clarifying to reveal Solomon sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. You blink at him silently. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Solomon says. “How are you feeling?”

“…Fine,” you admit, touching your temple experimentally. Your headache has subsided a little, but your skin still feels a bit warm. At your movement, Solomon pushes himself to his feet and feels your forehead. 

“Your temperature’s coming down, finally,” he hums. 

“What are you doing here?” you finally manage to ask. 

“Diavolo summoned me,” Solomon explains. “Supposedly, he attempted to enlist the help of the brothers, but they proved to be rather useless. They are… woefully uninformed when it comes to humans, after all.”

That’s true. “Thanks,” you remember to say. He didn’t have to come, after all. Just because he’s the only other human, doesn’t mean he’s relegated to nursing you back to health. 

“No problem,” Solomon nods sincerely. He doesn’t seem too bothered by the whole arrangement. “It’s nice not to be the only human. Although, I expect around the clock service and care the next time I fall ill.”

You smile tiredly. “Of course,” you agree. It’s a frighteningly easy promise to make. 

After your sickness, you notice that the brothers begin to ease up on you a bit. Mammon’s no longer texting you in the middle of the night, demanding that you entertain him; Lucifer doesn’t mind if you occasionally take a day to complete your work remotely at the mansion; Asmo’s physical affection is gentler than normal; Levi doesn’t tease you about being a normie as much; Beelzebub doesn’t ever touch your plate or food; hell, even Belphegor is behaving himself—no longer interfering with your naps or sleep. 

One afternoon, Lucifer approaches you in the living room. He greets you before settling on the couch next to you, his posture rigid and proper. “You may have noticed that my brothers…” Lucifer starts, before pausing and shaking his head, “...that we have been acting a bit different than normal.” You nod. 

“In the past few weeks—especially in light of your bout of sickness—we realized that we’ve been neglecting you and your health. A demon’s stamina is much stronger than a human’s—we need less sleep; food is more of a luxury than a necessity; our bodies are more resistant to injury… You understand.”

“What I mean to say is…” Lucifer trails off again, an uncharacteristic sign of hesitation from him. He takes a slow breath. “I apologize for the oversight.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. 

“It is not,” Lucifer states firmly. “We have neglected to consider just how difficult this transition must be for you. We—I—didn’t think to ensure your health and safety were priorities.”

“But no more. I’ve spoken to Diavolo and Solomon at length, in addition to doing some elective research, to ensure we are not so unprepared in the future. And, should your accommodations be unsuitable—should anything here be unsuitable—I want you to inform me at once.”

That… sounds a lot more serious than what you were expecting. You blink. “That’s— That’s really not necessary,” you try to say. 

“It wasn’t a request,” Lucifer interjects smoothly. It’s a firm but well-meaning statement. “Do you understand?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Good.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips now. “Truthfully, my brothers were very worried for you.” Lucifer pauses for a moment. “I was very worried for you,” he admits.

You’re sure you look surprised now. Lucifer only laughs, before getting to his feet and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You can almost convince yourself that the look in his eyes is unbearably fond. But he’s soon withdrawing, leaving you to wonder if you imagined the entire interaction.

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[mellowwillowy]

Being a livestock for a vampire has never sounded good until you were kidnapped by a vampire as his spouse.

TW: Yandere, NSFW, SH, and massacre

The vampire was intrigued by the puny human he ran into when he was walking around the river in the morning, testing his new potion and spell that would keep him immune to sunlight.

What was once a plan to kidnap you as one of his livestock turned into a moment where you had to nurse him because he suddenly dropped his whole weight onto you, face blistered from the sunlight.

“You are awake now.”

Your voice stirred him awake more than ever. His once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. He didn't remember having anyone in his manor.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and he defensively squinted his eyes. You raised both of your hands, “You passed out right behind me and I had to drag you all the way from the riverbank to my cottage.”

The curtain was drawn close suspiciously, not allowing any light to filter inside the bedroom. Did you know he was a vampire already?

“Was it an allergic reaction?”

“Huh?” he asked, baffled.

“Your face was blistered because it was the only part of you that was exposed. Nonetheless, you healed really fast so there was no need for any extensive care from my herbs. You were only out for a day.”

He started to feel his face, aside from patches here and there, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Ah yes, let me get the hand mirror for you—”

Just before you could stand up, his hand grabbed yours and held you on the spot immediately. If you were to realize he had no reflection.

“Can you help me stand and get me to the kitchen instead? I'm quite thirsty since I haven't drunk in a day.”

You stared at his eyes and glanced at his pale hand. It took you seconds before you agreed to him and supported him by slinging his arm over your shoulder and walked toward the kitchen downstairs.

His eyes scanned through your cottage, it was mainly dominated by white, ornaments, furniture, trinkets, and even flowers.

“You must have really loved white, considering even having flowers that can't grow in this land.” Yulian glanced at the potted flowers. Lilies of the Valley, daisies, baby’s breath, and lilies.

At that, you only hummed and sat him down on one of the chairs. You placed a cup of water for him and returned to the sink to prepare him what he assumed to be breakfast, judging from how bright it was outside the window.

Mindlessly staring into the window, he accidentally hissed from the sunlight reaching his bare-handed hand, alerting you of his discomfort.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

Yulian flinched at the endearment term you spoke before he regained his composure.

“Nothing, I just accidentally bit my tongue.” he lied as he tried to cover his blistered hand. You nodded and turned your focus back to the breakfast you were preparing.

“Are you allergic to dairies?” you asked him. “No.”

“Thought you were one unlucky man, it seems like you are not immune to light or something like an albino. I'm assuming Your skin is very sensitive to light since you were so covered.”

He only mumbled a few incoherent words before you snapped him out of his trance with a clap of your hands, “So what's your name dear?”

“Alan-” instinctively, the man shut his mouth and took a few seconds of silence before answering you.

“Yulian. My name is Yulian.” “Nice to meet you,” you served him a plate of sandwiches, “I’m the local physician here, you’ll be staying here with me for rehabilitation.”

Yulian raised both of his eyebrows, “But I am not wounded terribly in any way.” “Perhaps not, but this is how I work. Could it be that you are not a local?”

Yulian shook his head.

“Where’s your house? Do you need to go back home to your family immediately? I can stay in your place for a few days to make sure there are no more anomalies.”

Yulian frowned, what a persistent human. It was almost annoying, breaching people’s boundaries just to sate their own curiosities. He could read you that much.

But he agreed to stay in your cottage nonetheless.

𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

But you had always been attentive, drawing the curtain for him when he walked out of his bedroom. Offering to hold the umbrella for him when he wanted to walk.

What was once a plain bedroom was slowly adorned by flowers, mainly baby’s breath.

The food you made or bought was also not bad. They were decent for a human but not a vampire. Sometimes he had to mask his distaste to any food that consisted of onions.

It was not easy to sneak out of the cottage since you were sometimes awake and roamed around the cottage.

But it was a rather peaceful life. There was bustling sounds and noises from the cottage, unlike his dead and dark manor.

It was bright in your cottage but it didn't hurt him in the slightest bit. Was it because it was a ‘White House’?

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔.

If there was something he disliked from you then it had to be your silver ring. Whenever you touched him with your hand ring, you would sometimes graze his skin with your ring.

He tried not to hiss but there were occasions when it was unbearable, just like when you were compressing him and felt his temperature.

Unlike in a few cases where he could hide his blisters, it was visible that his forehead was bleeding from the contact.

It was alarming for both of you, paranoia and fear downed him as he suspected you were testing him while shock and suspicion flashed onto your face.

There was a rift but Yulian was a great reader, he knew you did not mean anything bad and decided to lie his way out again. Alas, it's harder this time.

Another thing he didn't like about you was how you could be ignoring him for a whole day sometimes. It could be something interesting that got your whole attention or another patient coming.

Perhaps he was simply unamused by the idea of a lesser being taking away your attention from him.

𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔.

You often strolled around the riverbank and forest, collecting herbs and wildflowers, sometimes walking down toward the village to buy daily necessities.

You didn't allow him to follow you at first, making him have to secretly follow you out of boredom and partial curiosity.

But upon week later, Yulian started to show you his interest in going out with you. It took him lots of convincing that he wouldn't fall sick from this and you reluctantly agreed to it.

For the first time, he could finally walk side by side with you instead of following you from the dark. It almost felt like his still heart was beating from excitement.

Apparently, all the villagers recognized you as a talented physician. They were all friendly to you and would do anything to help you as well.

It made something within him sting. Was it envy that he wasn't treated just as nice?

𝑽𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚’𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.

Sometimes the two of you would sing under the moonlight as a pastime. Sometimes you would come to his bedroom at night and converse with him until he pretended to fall asleep.

Sometimes you would diagnose him. Sometimes you would tell him stories of your life. Sometimes you would ask him questions about his life. Sometimes you would cry in your bedroom.

He couldn't help but wonder what sorrowed your frail heart.

Sometimes he would enter your bedroom and observe your patterned breathing while you were asleep. It was almost as if the role was reversed. He was observing you out of curiosity and perhaps, adoration.

A human’s lifespan is as short as a stick. Not only couldn't they live long, but they were also vulnerable to almost everything.

Yulian brought his hand to cup your cheek, squeezing it just a bit before his fingers traced down toward your neck, feeling your jugular vein pulsating in rhythm with your heart. You were alive but he wasn't. You were loved but he wasn't. You were adored but he wasn't.

Was it envy that brought his fangs close to your neck? Was he envious of your life? Or was he simply being unreasonable? You stirred awake from your sleep, eyes adjusting to the moonlight that lit your bedroom. No one was in sight and the water you placed on your nightstand remained warm despite the chilling temperature.

Perhaps the envy in him was never directed at you.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚.

The only reason why Yulian was still resting in your cottage was because of his self-sabotaging. You were a physician and he was a patient, unless he had a logical reason to stay in your cottage then he had to excuse himself.

It started with how Yulian started to fake food poisoning, burn himself from the sunlight, fake an anemic, and wound himself with the silver ornaments you had in the cottage.

But Yulian understood it was only a matter of time before your dense self realized that something was wrong and chased him out of your cottage.

Would you scream at him in fury, fear, or disappointment? He thought he was used to rejection already but something changed within him with the time spent living with you.

And he didn't want to betray your trust. You trusted him with your little secret. The secret that you were actually the village's 'Witch'.

Yulian sighed audibly as he walked toward your bedroom, observing it from corner to corner for any anomalies. It had always been a paranoid habit of his. He wanted to make sure nothing dangerous was inside your bedroom or, to be frank, your surroundings.

Yulian walked toward your dressing table and gazed into the mirror. There was not a single reflection of himself, a reminder that he was never supposed to let you live in the first place.

Yet your touch never failed to soothe his stoned heart, it never failed to make him melt under your touch. And your existence did not hunger him in any way unlike the others would.

He had learned to co-exist with you before he realized it, it was too late for him to undo this dependence and bond, let alone feed on you.

Yulian walked out and waited for you to come back from your visit to the local church. As much as he wanted to join you, he couldn't risk getting caught by them.

Hours passed and the sun sank, the moon lit the dark sky and yet not even a single sound of your footsteps approaching the cottage was heard. Yulian dissipated into thin air and teleported to where you were supposed to be but you were nowhere in sight.

The church was eerily silent to human ears but not to an otherworldly being like him. He could hear an ominous chant beneath him. He could smell the sickeningly sweet incense lit beneath him. And he could feel the mark he left on your neck that night beneath him.

The 'Witch' play ends tonight.

-

You woke up in someone's embrace, the night was lit by the moonlight above you yet there was an unbearable heat nearby.

"You are awake now."

His voice stirred you awake more than ever. Your once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. You didn't remember seeing him.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and you stared at his eyes. He smiled at you, “You passed out amidst the fire and I had to carry you all the way from the village.”

You looked behind his back and saw a huge fire consume the village, the villagers' cries were audible despite the distance. You clutched his black robe, "Wait, no! The villagers, they need me! I need to save them!"

"May I know why?" "Because I'm a Witch, the protector of this village!"

Yulian chortled at your remarks before he smirked, "And yet you let an outsider reside in your cottage for months."

All colors were drained from your face, and your heart sank down; "What do you mean?"

Yulian sat you down on one of the rocks and knelt in front of you, his gloved hand brought your hand ring, "Observe this."

He took off his glove and pressed your ring finger to his palm, the skin blistered from the contact and you instinctively pulled away, "What was that?!"

There was a tale of vampires and you wished he would deny it.

"It was troublesome for me having to avoid the mirrors in your cottage and anything that would reflect." Hand mirror.

"I never really like the dishes you made with onions but I stomach it all because I just couldn't muster the courage to see your sullen face," Onions.

"I really hate strolling when the sun is still up because I have to carry an umbrella with me all the time." Sun.

"Though I must say I don't mind being touched by you with your ring hand because it was worth the pain and trouble." Silver.

You backed away from him and just before your back could hit the grassy ground, his arm prevented you from tumbling back, "And I must say, it took me lots of time to properly mark and make you submit to a contract with me."

Contract?

Yulian cradled your confused body into his chest, the warmth you felt was not emitted from his skin but instead, the fire that devoured all the villagers who had been deceiving you.

All of the shock that weighed upon made you succumb to unconsciousness again, mainly from stress and trauma. Yulian frowned at your limp figure as he stood up and continued walking deep into the forest to his manor.

𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕-𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 '𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆' 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕.

Yulian did not like the hostility that you showed him at all. The ongoing stress and trauma drowned you in the hysteria that would also make you harm yourself. It pained him that he was one of the causes of your hysteria, a hypothetical scenario would sometimes flash across his mind. What if he had not appeared in your life? Then perhaps your heart wouldn't sorrow to this extent.

Yulian tried his best to help you adapt. The once dark and grim manor slowly turned white. The exteriors and interiors were white before you could remember how it originally looked like. Flowers were blooming in the garden to your liking and a potted white flowers near you for you to adore.

While Yulian had the patience to make you warm up to him and face the reality of your life, he did not have the heart to see you suffer for so long. And as much as he wanted to change you into a vampire just like him, he'd rather not have it done unwillingly.

But time was not so kind for your age. The longer he delayed it, the older and frailer you would be.

Alas, luck was on his side when he secluded himself in his room for a long time for the first time you came here. He didn't expect you to find his presence soothing for you.

It appeared that all his efforts had made you think that his action of kidnapping you was just an attempt to save you from the villagers who tricked you into thinking that you were a 'Witch'.

You looked for him, calmly at first then frantically when you suffered from a panic attack. He didn't mean to test you but he knew well deep inside he was hurting you.

Even for a selfish and cold-blooded creature like him, he had to steel his heart before he could see you again. Everything he was feeling after he met you was his first. You brought colors to his monochrome life. You taught him that the smell of a morning was calming. You taught him how to spend his time with pastimes.

He could not find it in his heart to leave your side. It was his first time to feel alive and he was greedy, wanting more of it.

You stood in front of his chamber, waiting for him to open his door instead of avoiding you altogether.

--

"The servants took great care of you while I was away right, dear?"

Yulian never found the charm in terms of endearment, but whenever you called him 'dear', incomprehensible emotion and feeling surged into him. He still remembered the day you first called him that, it was foreign and weird to him but he didn't find it that bad at all.

You squirmed under his touch, squeezing yourself closer and deeper into his embrace while your hands clenched on the bedsheet. That was not the only thing you were clenching though, for his fingers were knuckle deep inside you.

You tried to form a coherent answer but what came out was simply a blubbering. Tears dripped down from your cheek from the way he curled his fingers, feeling your spot until your toes were curled.

You didn't know that even vampires could feel this much stimulation from sex. You assumed they just reproduced while feeling only half of the pleasure humans could have because of how cold-blooded they were.

You thought they only did it out of curiosity or memories of their past lives, or perhaps from the mood itself instead of doing it for pleasure as well.

Yulian brought his lip to yours, nibbling your lower lip why urging you to open your mouth, allowing his tongue to roam inside you while his fingers did not stop even one bit, drawing multiple orgasms out of you.

You really loved every bit of the man who once tried to kill you. The way his soft fangs felt your skin, pricking it playfully instead of sinking it deep inside your jugular vein and killing you on the spot.

You loved it when he caressed your cheek, you loved how gentle he was when he wiped the tears from your eyelashes.

You loved it when he was inside of you, you loved it when he knew every inch of your body so well to the point he could make you cry out of pleasure effortlessly.

You loved to see his cute face from how fast he came inside you but he never stopped his hip. You loved it when he kissed your face. You loved it when he intertwined both of your hands.

You loved it when he made your insides feel warm and full.

You loved him for severing the illusion of the 'Witch' inside of you. It was undeniable that Yuliad had saved you from the villagers' torturing you for accepting an outsider into your cottage for the first time.

You were simply curious of his condition and yet you were punished terribly for not keeping the said tradition. Yulian knew there was never a tradition, it simply was a doctrine for you who was a prodigy of a physician to save everyone from your village.

You were exiled deep in the forest so that you couldn't learn the life beyond the forest and village.

Yulian knew just as much when he first joined you on your stroll to the village. Everyone treated you differently as though you were a deity and you considered it to be something normal.

It looked normal to him considering they believed in the 'Witch' but Yulian knew better. You were just a human and all of these were just a doctrine from the church. To ensure the prodigy never left the village and was forever loyal to the church.

Spies were sent and he knew the church had probably noticed him as not only a weird outsider but also a vampire. It was unfortunate of you to be dragged into the church's underground and interrogated, forced to drag him to the church and had him staked to death. But you were persistent, you didn't trust them.

Just before Yulian was about to save you, you made a grave mistake of swearing on your name to make a promise with the devil to save you and your companion which was him. He knew you had always been so kind but wasn't that sort of naivety a little bit too much for a stranger like him? Perhaps this was the reason why the church wanted to force a much stronger doctrine onto you.

Their mistake was to not sense the danger that was him earlier. Your flaw was that you were too kind-hearted.

It gave him more reasons to seclude you from the world beyond the White House. His paranoia and obsession growing stronger with each day never seemed to unnerve you who were just a bright soul with a kind heart. A kind heart that was a contrast to his stoned heart.

That alone justified his paranoia of losing you. Surely you understood him right?

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this half-hearted work, I was so motivated to write a damn vampire fic but got writer's block mid-way smh. Happy 7th Anniversary to LIfE Project and 5k to this blog!

[amoressb]

───── THE BET 西村 力 N. RK

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ riki didnt think a bet could turn into something more ｡｡ football player!riki x reader .

FLUFF , SMALL ANGST & wc. 2400 + / kissing, skinship, petnames ｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

nishimura riki had always been the king of charm. with his easy smile, natural charisma, and the kind of confidence that only came from being the star football player, he never doubted his ability to win anyone over. yet, he often found himself bored. his world felt predictable, like a game where he already knew all the moves.

one sunny afternoon, riki was sprawled across the grassy quad with his best friend jake and a few teammates, their voices filled with casual banter about practice and upcoming parties. but then, out of nowhere, his attention snagged on something..or rather, someone.

there, under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, sat a girl he had never noticed before. she wasn’t like the others who fluttered around campus in trendy outfits or clamored for attention. her hair was loosely tied back and she wore a simple sweatshirt with jeans, her focus entirely on the book in her hands. earbuds dangled from her ears and her lips curved into a slight smile as she read.

“who’s that?” riki asked, nudging jake with his elbow.

jake followed his gaze. “that’s y/n l/n,” he said, his tone uninterested. “she’s in my english class. real quiet, likes music, and keeps to herself. definitely not your type.”

riki frowned slightly, still watching you. something about you intrigued him. your calm demeanor, your lack of interest in the bustling quad around you.

jake, noticing rikis fixation, smirked. “what? don’t tell me you’re interested in her.” riki shrugged. “i mean, she seems different.”

“different? please. you’d never make it with her, she’s not into the whole ‘jock’ thing.”

another teammate chimed in, laughing. “yeah, she’s probably the only girl on campus who doesn’t know who you are.”

jake leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. “tell you what. bet you can’t get her to fall for you. let’s say…one month. if she says ‘i love you’ before then, dinner’s on me for a month.”

riki rolled his eyes. “that’s too easy, you’re on.”

he said it with his usual bravado, but as he glanced back at you, a tiny flicker of doubt crept in. you weren’t like the other girls who melted under his gaze. there was something about you that felt untouchable and for the first time in a long while, riki felt a strange mix of excitement and uncertainty.

riki was no stranger to charming people. he knew how to flash a grin that made others swoon, how to make anyone feel like the center of his attention, but you? you weren’t buying it.

his first attempt to approach you was in the cafeteria. he spotted you sitting alone, your tray filled with nothing but a coffee and an apple, a notebook open beside you. sliding into the seat across from you, he offered his most disarming smile.

“mind if i sit here?” he asked.

you glanced up, surprised. your eyes, a soft e/c that seemed to hold a depth riki wasn’t used to, studied him for a moment before you shrugged. “it’s a free country.”

not exactly the warm reception he was used to.

“i’m riki,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “i know,” you replied simply, taking a sip of your coffee. that threw him off, “you do?”

you nodded, turning a page in your notebook. “you’re kind of hard to miss. football star, right?”

riki felt a flicker of satisfaction but quickly realized you weren’t saying it to flatter him. if anything, you seemed indifferent.

“and you’re y/n,” he said, testing the waters. “looks like we both know each other’s names. great. anything else?” you said, arching an eyebrow.

riki chuckled, taken aback but oddly intrigued. most people bent over backward to engage with him, but you acted like his presence was an inconvenience.

over the next week, riki tried various ways to break through your cool exterior. he “accidentally” bumped into you at the library, offered to help you carry your books, and even sat near you in class. each time, you were polite but distant.

despite your aloofness, riki found himself thinking about you constantly. he’d replay your conversations in his head, analyzing every word you’d have said. why didn’t you fall for his charm like everyone else? what was it about you that made him so determined to earn your attention?

one evening, while scrolling through his phone, riki found himself looking at you instagram. your posts were simple—pictures of songs you listen to, sunsets, and the occasional candid shot of you with friends. it was refreshing, different from the polished, curated images he was used to seeing.

“she’s got layers,” he muttered to himself, feeling a strange tug in his chest.

for the first time in a long while, riki wasn’t just chasing someone because it was easy. he wanted to know you—not for the bet, but because something about you felt real in a way he hadn’t expected.

riki didn’t realize when the bet stopped mattering. somewhere between late night library sessions and quiet walks across campus, you had stopped being a challenge and started being the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about.

one night, after a long study session, riki walked you home. the stars were scattered across the dark sky and the air was crisp.

“thanks for helping me with that paper,” riki said, shoving his hands into his pockets. you smiled, “you weren’t too bad. your analysis was actually decent.”

“‘decent’? that’s high praise coming from you,” he teased. you laughed, a sound that sent warmth rushing through him.

as you two reached your dorm, you turned to him, “you’re…not what i expected, you know.” riki tilted his head, “what do you mean?”

“i thought you were just some arrogant jock,” you admitted, a faint blush coloring your cheeks.

“and now?”

you hesitated, then smiled. “now i think you’re…complicated.” riki chuckled, taking a small step closer. “complicated, huh? i’ll take it.”

for a moment, you both stood there, the world around them silent. rikis heart raced as he leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from your face. when your lips met, it was like the world tilted. the kiss was soft and tentative, yet it set something alight inside him.

as he walked back to his dorm that night, riki couldn’t stop smiling. for the first time, the bet felt meaningless. all he wanted was you.

riki had never felt this way about anyone before. you weren’t just someone he wanted to be with—you were someone he wanted to protect, to make happy. he could see it in the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your favorite books, or how you’d wrinkle your nose when concentrating on a tough math problem.

but the shadow of the bet loomed over him, an ugly secret he had been too scared to confess. and as fate would have it, the truth came out in the worst possible way.

it was during jakes party a few weeks later. riki had convinced you to come, promising that you didn’t have to stay long. you had reluctantly agreed, holding onto his hand as you two navigated the crowded living room filled with loud music and louder voices.

“wow, this is…chaotic,” you said, giving him a skeptical look.

“welcome to my world,” riki said with a grin, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “don’t worry—i’ll keep you safe from all the crazies.” you rolled your eyes but smiled, allowing him to guide you toward the kitchen to grab drinks.

meanwhile, jake and a few teammates were deep in conversation on the other side of the room. as the drinks flowed, their voices grew louder, and one of them—the ever-loose-lipped mark—blurted out, “can’t believe you actually pulled it off, riki. the whole ‘get-her-to-fall-for-you’ bet.”

jake tried to hush him, but the damage was done. you, who had been walking back toward riki with a glass of soda in hand, froze.

“what…what did he just say?” you asked, your voice trembling.

riki turned, panic flashing across his face. “y/n, baby wait—” your eyes filled with hurt and confusion as you pieced it together. “it was a bet…? i was a bet?”

“no, it’s not like that!” riki pleaded, stepping toward you.

you took a shaky step back, your voice breaking. “don’t lie to me. how could you do this? how could you…?” you shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks.

riki reached for you, but you pulled away, your voice firm despite the pain. “we’re done, riki. don’t talk to me again.”

you turned and walked out, leaving riki standing there, his heart in pieces.

the next few days were the worst of rikis life. the emptiness he felt was unbearable, but the guilt was worse. he had hurt the one person he cared about more than anyone else.

riki tried calling you, texting you, even showing up at your dorm, but you ignored him every time. you had every right to be angry, but riki wasn’t ready to give up. he needed to show you that he loved you—that what you and him had was real, despite how it started.

one night, he left a box outside your door. inside was a carefully folded piece of paper and a playlist of your favorite songs. on the paper, he had written :

i know i don't deserve your forgiveness, but i'm asking for a chance to prove i care about you. this playlist made me think of us—how i misjudged you at first and how i’ve come to admire everything about you. i'Il wait as long as it takes.

you found the box the next morning. you stared at the cd for a long time, your emotions warring inside you.

over the next few weeks, riki continued to show up in small ways. he left sticky notes in your locker with heartfelt lines from your favorite songs. he bought coffee from your favorite café and left it on your desk before class. he even joined your music club, despite being the only guy there.

one evening, you found him sitting on the steps of the library, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"i'm not here to pressure you," he said as you approached. "i just wanted to see you…to tell you that i'm sorry. you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and i'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

you stared at him, your heart softening despite your lingering anger. "why should i believe you?" you asked quietly.

riki stood, his voice earnest.

"because i love you, y/n…and i'll keep proving it, every day, for as long as it takes."

a few days later, your agreed to meet riki at the park. the air was crisp and the sun cast a warm golden glow over the trees.

“i’ve been thinking,” you began, your arms crossed. “what you did was awful, riki. it hurt me more than i thought possible.”

“i know,” he said softly.

“but…” you hesitated, looking into his eyes. “i also see how much effort you’ve put into making things right…and i can’t deny that i still have feelings for you.”

rikis heart leaped, but he kept his expression steady. “y/n, i swear, i’ll never take you for granted again. you mean everything to me.”

you studied him for a long moment before stepping closer. “if we do this again, there are no more lies. no more games.”

“never,” he promised. your lips curved into a small smile. “okay then.”

riki didn’t wait another second. he cupped your face gently and kissed you, pouring every ounce of love and regret into that kiss. you melted into him, your hands clutching the front of his jacket.

when pulling apart, you both laughed softly, the tension between you two finally breaking.

months had passed and you and rikis relationship had blossomed into something real and unshakable. riki worked tirelessly to show you every day how much you meant to him—not just through grand gestures, but in the small, thoughtful ways that mattered most.

one crisp autumn evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch in rikis apartment. he’d invited you over, insisting he had something special planned. you were skeptical, especially when he insisted on blindfolding you before leading you out the back door.

“riki, if you make me trip and fall, i’m never forgiving you,” you teased as he carefully guided you down a short path.

“i’s never let you fall,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring.

after a few more steps, riki stopped you and gently removed the blindfold. you blinked as your eyes adjusted to the soft glow of string lights hung between the trees in his backyard. in the center of the clearing was a small picnic setup—a cozy blanket piled with cushions, a basket filled with snacks, and a thermos of hot chocolate.

“you…did all this?” you asked, your voice soft with surprise. “i figured we deserved a quiet night,” riki said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “just you, me, and the stars.” you smiled, your chest filling with warmth. “it’s perfect.”

you two sat together under the night sky, the cool breeze carrying the scent of fallen leaves. riki poured you both cups of hot chocolate, handing you yours with a marshmallow perched perfectly on top.

“you’ve gotten better at this romance thing,” you teased, taking a sip. “i had a good reason to learn,” he said, his tone serious. “i never want to take you for granted, y/n. not ever again.”

you set your cup down and leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. “you’re doing a pretty great job so far,” you said softly.

for a while, you and riki sat in comfortable silence, watching the stars twinkle above them. then, riki turned to you, his expression thoughtful.

“you know,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “there’s something magical about you.” you raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “magical? that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“i mean it,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “you make me want to be better. you make everything brighter. like right now—i’ve never looked at the stars and felt like they mattered, but with you… everything matters.”

you stared at him, your heart skipping a beat. you leaned forward and kissed him, slow and soft, your hands cupping his face. riki responded instantly, pulling you closer, the warmth of his embrace chasing away the chill of the night.

when you two pulled back, you rested your forehead against his. “you’re pretty magical yourself, you know.”

riki grinned. “yeah? guess we make a good pair then.”

as the night wore on, you and riki stayed wrapped up in each other, sharing stories, laughter, and stolen kisses. and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly, completely happy.

⋆｡°✩ @cheruphic @liwinly @chrrific @hyukabean @ijustwannareadstuff20 @jellyluv4eva @veilstqr

[byshens]

jealousy ── park sunghoon x fem! reader smut + mdni

warnings jealous sunghoon, jealous sex, unprotected sex (dont!), choking, mentions of jake ( he’s like the center of the dirty talk ), fingering (f), breeding, petnames (baby, angel, princess), slight overstimulation. lmk if i missed any.

notes not sure if i was able to fix all the typos when editing the post, so if you see any pls ignore, i’ll find them eventually ..

requests are open! word count 1 , 893

“don’t go see jake again.” sunghoon grumbled against your shoulder. he wasnt very fond of your new friend—even though that’s all jake was to you, a friend.

“don’t be jealous, hoon.” you jokingly replied, patting his leg. you could feel him shift behind you, your back fully pressed against his chest. “i’m not jealous.”

his tone sounded jealous for sure to you. which made you giggle, “is jake really a threat to you?” you asked turning your head to face him, but when you locked eyes with sunghoon your body froze. his face was stone cold, his eyes darker than usual and his grip tightened against your hip.

he coldly laughed, “a threat? he’s not even worth being called a threat.” which you could agree, jake’s fun and all, but he’s nothing like sunghoon. no one could replace him in your heart and he knew that too, but just for the fun of it, you decided to make some comments.

“he’s cute, though. has the prettiest face.” you hummed, turning your head back to face away from sunghoon, a sly grin against your lips as you listened to him breathe in slowly. you’ve been waiting to see sunghoon riled up, and now was your chance.

when he didnt say anything to that comment, you provoked him more. “how do you feel about threesomes? he could definitely join us one time.” sunghoon knew you liked the idea of having a third for sex, even having rules set down if it ever happened, but something about the third being jake just made sunghoon’s skin crawl.

“bet jake wouldnt even be able to make you cum,” sunghoon finally spoke, his breath lingering on the back of your neck, kisses that were light as feathers being placed against your skin.

your lips parted as you tried to keep your breathing steady, you were finally cracking sunghoon. you just needed to keep pushing. “no you dont think so? i think he’d do well, bet he’s pretty in all places, not just his face.” you giggled. the noise of you being happy while talking about such things just kept ticking sunghoon off, not liking how intrigued you seem with this idea of jake.

sunghoon’s hand found itself traveling down from your hips to the edge of your shorts. your breath hitched as he pushed his hand inside the fabric of your underwear, his fingers moving down to slowly rub at your clit, watching your face as it filled with shock then small pleasure.

“i think i should make jake just watch us. make him watch how well i fuck you, how you moan my name so loud the neighbors get tired of us.” sunghoon seethed, his finger testing the waters and dipping itself inside your warmth, not too surprised at how wet you were already.

you let out a whine, so quiet that sunghoon would’ve missed it if he we wasnt so close to you. “you’d like that, wouldnt you?” he laughed, dipping another finger into you before he started to thrust them. your legs opening wider for him, allowing his fingers to reach deeper.

“hoon..” you breathed out, your head turning to face him again and he instantly took your lips against his, devouring your mouth in a heated kiss, his pace of his hand quickening which made you twitch against him, a moan escaping between the kiss.

i finally got him. you thought to yourself as you tried to roll your hips against his fingers, only causing him to pull them out. you pulled away from the kiss with a whine of protest at his action, only making him slap your thigh.

“let me show you what jake wont ever get.” he growled, throwing the blankets off the both of you and placing you in the middle of the bed. he took the hems of your shorts and underwear and pulled them down, taking them off you.

you watched his every move. the coldness in his eyes made your stomach flip, you knew sunghoon was a bit jealous sometimes, but seeing how it can play out was something new. you were snapped back to reality when you heard his belt, watching as he started to take off his own bottoms.

he tapped your thighs twice which let you know to spread your legs for him. once he slipped out of his own pants and boxers, he positioned himself before your entrance. you gasped, he never usually went right for it, he usually prepped you. “hoon wait..“ your voice breaking. before you could finish your sentence sunghoon was already pushing himself inside your heat.

“fuck,” he groaned, watching as his cock was sucked in by your walls. the wet noise your cunt was making drove him crazy, he knew he would never let jake get his for himself. this was all for him, only he could make you this wet and needy.

once he finally bottomed out, you thought he would be his usual gentle-ish self, but you were wrong. the second he bottomed out, he pulled right back out and slammed into you. this made your body jolt up, your hands scrambling to find his back. “sunghoon! wait—“ you pled, only to be cut off by a loud moan as he did it again.

his pace was fairly slow, but the roughness of his thrusts made your skin feel like its on fire. each pound into you got him deeper, his hands going down to force your legs to stay open, his nails getting into the skin on your thighs. “fuck, baby.” he moaned, watching as your face filled with pleasure.

“faster, please.” you begged. the slowness of his thrusts driving you insane, but sunghoon wasnt about to give you what you wanted, no. after you had teased him with those thoughts about jake? no he wasnt going to give in.

“take it how i give it to you,” he growled, though he did quicken his pace by just a bit, it wasnt as fast as you wanted, it was barely above the speed he was going beforehand. your mind was clouded with pleasure still, back arching off the bed with each time he slammed into your heat, only causing him to slide in deeper and hit all the spots you needed.

eventually sunghoon got tired of trying to keep that slow pace and when you finally seemed like you got used to his rhythm, he sped up. your eyes shot open again and dug your nails into his back. sunghoon’s hand going to wrap around your neck and squeeze down gently, pushing you back into the mattress as he pounded into you.

“fuck! please, please!” you cried out, watching sunghoon’s face fill with pleasure that only you could give him. his lips letting moans escape every few seconds. you knew he loved being inside you, how your pussy just seemed to fit perfectly for his cock.

“bet—bet jake cant fuck you like i can.” he grumbled, his speed picking up some more, ruthlessly tearing apart your warmth, the wet noises of your neediness filling the room. you loved this new side of sunghoon, your hand going to sit ontop of his that was wrapped around your neck, making him squeeze tighter around it.

“n—no he cant! only you can..” you moaned back at him through broken gasps, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, which messed up his rhythm a bit but neither of you complained. sunghoon leaned down to capture your lips into another kiss, his teeth nibbling at your lip to let him inside, which you happily gave in, letting his tongue force its way inside your mouth.

sunghoon pulled away from your mouth and let himself slip out of your cunt, which earned a whine as you suddenly felt empty. he flipped you over so now you were on your knees and pressed into the bed. sunghoon then forced himself back inside you, having you jump forward.

his hands gripped your hips tightly to keep you in place as he found his quick speed again, mumbling out curses everytime he hit the deepest parts of you he could, watching everytime how your ass would react to his hips snapping forward.

your mind was filled with how good he felt, how well he was treating you even though he was rough. a loud moan left your lips as you felt a smack on your ass, turning your head to try and see him, which was a bit hard due to your face being pushed into the pillows.

“you feel so good, fuck, princess.” sunghoon moaned, the praise going straight to your cunt which made you clench against his cock, his hips stuttering for a moment before finding his pace again. “god, dont do that. i’ll cum too soon.” he said, his mind getting foggy as well.

“hoon—i’m close..” you moaned out, feeling the knot in your stomach getting tighter with each thrust, your legs slightly trembling at staying up. your fingers clawing into the sheets as he fucked you, needing some kind of support. “cum for me, baby.”

and you did. you came all over his cock, having it drip down your thigh as he fucked you through your release. but he wasnt done, he fastened his pace and held your hips as close as he could to his thrusts, “fuck baby i’m gonna cum,” he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppier as he got closer to his own climax.

“cum inside me, hoonie..” you desperately whined, all of the overstimulation hitting you at once, but you were too immersed in the pleasure to really care, the feeling of sunghoon hitting every right spot as your cunt was tightly wrapped around him made you feel fuzzy.

sunghoon’s hips stuttered at the request, he always loved filling you up, watching how you took his cum like it was an everyday task (which it kind of was). “i’m gonna fill you up, baby. make sure your walls are stained with me.” he growled, one of his hands going to wrap around your throat again, pulling you up to be against his chest.

he came with a loud moan of your name, his teeth sucking harshly on your neck as he filled you up. a satisfied moan leaving your lips as you felt yourself fill up with his cum, always loving how it felt to be claimed once again by him.

once sunghoon fucked himself off his high with your cunt, he gently placed you back against the bed, his thrusts slow to not overwhelm you again. “you did so well for me, princess.” his voice was soft now, full of love again as he kissed your temple, slowly pulling himself out.

he leaned back on his heels as he watched your cunt drip with his cum, the white color of his markings along with your beautiful skin was a sight he always enjoyed. he got off the bed to clean you up while you felt yourself drift off to sleep, feeling too tired to do anything else.

and when sunghoon was finished cleaning everything up, he laid back in bed with you and cuddled you close to his chest, his fingers brushing your hair as you snored softly, “goodnight, my angel.” he whispered before he also drifted off to sleep, holding you close.

notes lowkey wouldnt mind doing a part 2 with jake involved … but only if it’s requested 🫶. ty for reading !

© byshens. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or post onto another platforms without my consent.

[xislyns]

DO AGE GAPS BOTHER THEM?

Marco , Shanks , Rayleigh , Mihawk

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ asks are open!

op masterlist : 𐙚🧸ྀི

how i think the One piece DADDIES would react to having a spouse who has a big age gap with them ? would they be insecure or secure about it? (Reader is from water 7 but honestly it doesnt rlly matter )

a/n : i am obsessed with the dilfs of one piece , istg im going to make a whole series just on hcs for these men 😩😩

AKAGAMI NO SHANKS

it bothers them at first.

Shanks usually is carefree, and during all of his trips across the grandline ofc he would often have flings, it might also be possible he has flings on every island his crew has landed on. but the moment he realized he had serious feelings for you , he grew unusually uncomfortable . It wasn’t like him to overthink, but he found himself wondering if he’d be holding you back.

“you know ____ I’m not exactly the most stable guy, im a wanted pirate,” he said one evening, swirling his drink in his hand as you can hear the crew celebrating their victory in the background . “And I’m older. You could do better ____. you would definitely be better off settling down with a shipwright in the city."

You rolled your eyes, “Stop underestimating me, Shanks. You wont scare me off with those type of words. im here with you, and im here to stay.”you said to him with utmost confidence

His grin returned, sheepish but genuine. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

From then on, Shanks embraced the relationship fully. He’d grown comfortable about the age gap, capable of saying things like, “See ____ would still pick me even if im an old man” this whole thing will and has become one of the key points that makes him love your relationship more.

When anyone dared to comment on the difference, he’d laugh and throw an arm around you. “Jealousy’s not a good look for you, mate!” he’d sneer, brushing it off .

To Shanks, life was short, and love with you? it was worth any risk.

...⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻...

DRACULE MIHAWK

Not Bothered.

Dating Dracule Mihawk is not an easy task, age gap or not. He is known to be the best swordsman alive and not only that but he is a man of few words.

his piercing gaze often leaves you guessing his thoughts. When the topic of the age difference came up, it was you who bought it up.

“Does it bother you that I’m younger?” you asked one night, standing in the library of his castle.

He regarded you with his usual flat voice, setting down his glass of wine. “Do you really believe me to be someone who concerns myself with unimportant things like age?”

You blinked, unsure if that was an awnser you wanted to hear

Mihawk sighed, walking to approach you. “Age means nothing to me, nor will it ever matter in my life. What matters to me is compatibility, trust, and respect. Do you doubt that we share these things?”

“No,” you murmured, your cheeks warming under his intense stare.

“Then stop questioning it, Love ” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You’re my spouse, no matter what the world says.”

And that was that. Mihawk was a man who lived his life on his terms, and he could care less about how people perceive him. whats matters is he had you in arms reach.

...⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻...

MARCO THE PHEONIX

Somewhere in between.

Marco had always lived on the Moby Dick, his priorities are split between his crew and his duty as Whitebeard’s right-hand man. But when he met you a lively spirit a decade younger , he found himself intrigued.

At first, Marco hesitated. The age gap wasn’t an issue to him personally, but he was wary of the gossip and judgment it might bring to you. He was scared it would make you insecure and uncomfortable in your relationship. He spoke to you carefully, like he was testing the waters between you two.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked one evening as you sat on the docks together, the sun setting behind you.

“im sure marc,” you replied, placing your hands over his. “Age is just a number to me, Marco. What matters is how we feel. and i feel amazing when im with you"

His lips twitched into a smile, a rare but genuine expression. “You’re too wise for your years, yoi.”

From then on, Marco grew more comfortable with your relationship. He is protective in his own way, always making sure you felt supported. When anyone questioned the relationship, he’d brush them off with his usual calm demeanor, saying,“As long as we’re happy, nothing else matters, yoi.”

To him , as long as you are okay with it, then it wasnt a big deal for him. He just wants you to have the upmost comfort.

...⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻...

SILVERS RAYLEIGH

Not Bothered.

Rayleigh had seen and done it all. In his golden years, he thought his days of love and romance were behind him. Then you came along, a ball of youthful energy and charisma that reignited a spark he thought was long extinguished in his old life.

“Age gap, hm?” he chuckled one night as you teased him about his silver hair. “I’ve been living long enough to know that love doesn’t follow rules,and neither do i.”

Rayleigh adored your youthfulness and the fresh perspective you brought into his dull life. He wasn’t insecure about the gap though , if anything he found it amusing. When others raised eyebrows, he’d wave them off with a laugh.

“Let ‘em talk what they want” he’d say, pulling you closer. “We’re happy, and that’s all that matters.”

He values your presence and he was always there to share a story or give advice when you needed it. To him, the age gap was just another adventure for him.

[cal-flakes]

hi lover!! can we see dealer!rafe teaching innocent!reader how to do a bump pretty please 😋😋 my fav trope!!!

yes yes yes yes you fuckin’ can my love. (not proofread i apologise i am a sleepy girl rn)

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “you lost or somethin’?” a smug voice appeared behind you, causing you to flinch in fright, lost in your own mind. you peered up at him, all glossy lipped and doe eyed, just like he expected. “oh— rafe! sorry, i was jus’ seeing if i left my charger in here” you explained, a sweet smile gracing your face. his brows furrowed, yet his shoulders relaxed, simply unable to keep up the intimidating act while you beamed up at him the way you did.

“and why would it be in here?” he questioned further, eyes narrowing slightly while a smirk tugged at his lips. “oh no— i mean, i didn’t leave it in here, but sarah said she might’ve let you borrow it or something?” your grin faltered slightly, picking up on the undertone of annoyance in his voice.

it wasn’t that rafe was scary— well, he was, but he made an effort not to scare you. how could he? his sister friend who always showed up in sweet little dresses, neatly styled hair, perfected makeup. the last thing he wanted was to scare you, if anything he wanted to know more. unbeknownst to rafe, you were just as intrigued�� ogling him over the kitchen island when he came back to tannyhill late at night, interrupting your and sarah’s girly nights in. always offering to help whenever he seemed stressed.

taking a step back, he reached into his bedside drawer with ease, pulling out a familiar bedazzled iphone charger. “m’messin’ with you kid, y’mean this charger?” he chuckled, watching carefully as you let out a quiet, shaky breath before quickly regaining your smile. “that’s the one! thanks rafe!” you giggled, taking the item from his hands before heading for the door. “y’know, why don’t you stay for a bit? spend some time w’me? she’s got you all to herself all the time”

your hand retracted from the door immediately as the words left his mouth, though mentally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. “well— i’m sure she wouldn’t mind, just for little while”

— before you knew it, hours had passed, the only noise in the house being the movie rafe had picked as well as your giggles. you’d found yourself laying down on his bed, head resting on his knee as he lay against the headboard.

“y’look tired doll, y’okay?” he hummed, resting a lazy hand on your cheek as you released a surprised yawn, not wanting him to think you were getting bored. “jus’ a little, s’okay though, i can stay up a bit longer..” you spoke softly, turning over to face him now.

“i’ve got somethin’ that can help” he stated nonchalantly, reaching again into his bedside drawer, this time pulling out a not-so bedazzled baggy. your brows knitted together. “whas’at?”

“you trust me?” he tested, cocking an eyebrow as he sat up slightly. “course’ i do rafe” you smiled naively, watching as he opened the bag, tapping it gently as he poured out a small pile onto the back of his thumb. “this, is everything you need”

his other hand beckoned you forward till you were within his reach, carefully pulling you into his lap, legs slotted beside his as you tugged at the hem of your dress, doing your best to cover up. “now, your gonna close your other nostril, and sniff up— hard, m’kay? you listenin’ baby?” he instructed, tapping your jaw slightly as if you bring you back into the room, noticing the vacant look in your eyes as they stared at him in awe. “mhm”

swiftly, rafe pressed his hand to the back of your head as his other came up to your nose, guiding you through it as the grainy powder made its way up your nose, an unfamiliar feeling that only made your eyes water. “s’okay doll, it’ll hit you in a second alright?” he cooed, using the same hand to wipe away the pools building in the corners of your eyes before pulling you further into him.

“not just sarah’s little friend after all, huh kid?” he smirked, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest for a moment as you both waited for the high.

[princessbrunette]

boxer!rafe had his anger mostly under control. thats what the boxing was for. but no one’s perfect. there were times he’d slip up.

he’d developed the knack for being able to ignore the other men in the locker room at the fighting grounds. he had his own upcoming fights to worry about, his own family to feed — whilst he used to be a sucker for a good argument, it had become the least of his concerns. they knew that about him, therefore they knew what would get under his skin.

“ayeee, it’s pretty boy!” one jeered as he stepped into the locker room — sore, toned body trudging over to his usual locker to retrieve his stuff so he could get out and go home to you. he was used to the nickname, infact it had even been self proclaimed at some points on the ring. girls held up ‘pretty boy’ signs during his fights, upon winning multiple fights and climbing the ranks he was gifted a chain with ‘pretty motherfucker’ engraved on the pendant. it was nothing new to him.

the chatter continues in the room amongst the men, and he figures he can let his guard down now, knowing they wouldn’t be testing him. they’d heard of his rage through stories, rumours that he’d been in jail for killing a cop in his past. it intrigued people, wanting to see how far they could push him. just as the cameron boy is getting his gym bag together to leave, he’s brought into the conversation once more.

“right? i wanna start seein’ some newer faces in the crowd i’m gettin’ tired of the regulars.” the same douche that addressed rafe when he entered speaks, eyes flickering over to the younger guy in amusement. “hey cameron, got anyone you can bring to spice things up around here? how ‘bout that pretty wife of yours? maybe she can motivate me before the fight—”

he doesn’t get to finish his taunt, before in a flash rafe had pinned him the locker with a crash, doors rippling and padlocks clattering. he presses his arm into the man’s neck, jaw clenched and vein popping out his neck.

“fuck you say? huh? nah, go ‘head repeat yourself.” rafe threatens, practically growling through bared teeth at the man. the other fighter goes to shove him back, but the cameron man is unmovable. if there’s one thing he doesn’t play about, it’s you.

rafe stumbles back slightly, but it’s only to wind up and slam his fist into the man’s face when he dared to smile. the other men start to get involved now, trying to pull rafe off but it only made him angrier. “think that’s funny? yeah?” he yells, and punches the man again, the time harder. his skin cracks and blood splashes onto his knuckles as he continues. he knew this was going to result in at least a week suspension from the gym, and that was with the gym owner being fond of rafe. he shoves himself off eventually, the man groaning on the floor in pain.

full of adrenaline, rafe picks up his bag and heads to leave, but not without spitting out a venomous “lemme hear you talk about my wife again. i’ll kill you. a’ight?”

he’s not proud of himself by the time he’s arrived home. it’s been a while since he’d gotten angry like that, violent outside of professional boxing. it’s so soft in your shared home when he arrives, and it makes him feel ashamed. it smelled like you’d been baking fresh cookies, the house clean just for him. it melts him, because sometimes he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still the monster he used to be. something that didn’t belong here.

he stops in the doorway to see you napping on the couch, looking delicate like a petal that had fallen off a flower, drifted in the wind and had just landed there perfectly. the small bump that had only just begun to show through your dress strains ever so slightly against the material and he scratches at his cheek. he shouldn’t be acting like this. not when fatherhood is approaching.

he busies himself off to the shower, hoping to wash the day from him. not long later, the sound of the water woke you — and you appear in the bathroom quietly, stripping yourself of your clothes and climbing in behind him. you press a soft kiss to the centre of his back because you could tell it’s tense, a telltale sign that he’d had a rough day. you don’t need to speak, not yet anyway as he relaxes slightly at your touch — feeling your tits press against him from behind and your swollen tummy when you lean forward. he lets out a long sigh, head running beneath the water.

hugging him from behind, you peer round to see his bruised knuckles. he hadn’t come home with those for a long time, he’d usually wrap them if he was going to spar or whatever.

“what happened?” you can’t help yourself, curiosity getting the better of you.

he presses his lips together, caught. he doesn’t wanna tell you what they said, make you uncomfortable. it’s not necessary and it would only make him mad all over again. he runs his knuckles under the water, ridding them of any of the left over dried blood that he wasn’t sure was his.

“ah i uh… i lost my temper… a little. s’not important.” he huffs, peeking briefly over his shoulder at you. you don’t question it, knowing it was potentially a sore subject. he feels another kiss on his back.

“s’okay.” you’re so nurturing, so gentle. your hands slide around his hip bones, caressing the veined skin on his lower stomach above his cock. the appendage jumps once realising what you were after. maybe it didn’t take long because of the soft kisses and your body pressing to his, paired with the day he’d had — but he’s hard in no time when you start palming at him.

he tips his head back under the water, the droplets racing down his toned back and shoulders as you slowly tug at him from behind, doing your best to relax him. “s’okay rafe.” you whisper once more. “you’re home now.”

he certainly was.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

(back again, passed all my midterms and finally getting antidepressants😝, this is a VERY Johnny centric chapter)

tw: depression, lotta angst but aftercare this time, mentions of neglect, courting, mentions of bullets, being shot, medical treatment, rehabilitation, forced cuddles (but needed), hitting head against stuff, lots of whining, biting, scratching

It was wrong, he knew it.

He hadn’t been there originally, too cooped up in a sterile medical room, the harsh, stinging scent of a scent blocking spray burning his nostrils till he couldn’t smell anything at all. Mushy food he could barely shove down his throat, only tolerating it so they didn’t shove a feeding tube down his throat. Lukewarm water that tasted suspiciously like painkillers.

His head throbbed, the bullet having already been pulled out as soon as he was wheeled into the emergency room, doctors crowding around, yelling, ordering. Too much noise, in his opinion.

Especially when there was already so much going on in his head.

Everything had been fine, until it hadn’t been. He’d heard of a replacement on his team for him, temporary, they’d said, because of his medical suspension. He only had to get through a few months of physical therapy and a few medical tests before being thrown back onto the field.

He originally hadn’t known what to think. Simon had come visited him, told him of the strange alpha there, how quiet they were, how meek. The Ghost seemed to see it as a weakness, but Simon almost talked like he appreciated it, regardless of his annoyance.

“Tryin’ to replace you, well it isn’t working.”

He’d grumbled, making sure not to say anything the camera would pick up. Any mention of something potentially “triggering” could set Soap off, he’d been told. If he said anything toeing the line, he could be removed or banned.

Johnny had been intrigued at first, at the thought of a new alpha, seeing as there weren’t many in the SAS program. Especially not an American, on a British team. His thoughts were filled with the Southern twangy accent, “soda”, “chips” instead of crisps, arguments over soccer and football and which was which.

But now, months after the initial incident with Makarov, he’d recovered just in time to watch everything crumble and to try and help clean up the mess. You didn’t know him. Maybe that would give him a fresh start with you, maybe you’d like it.

He was still fucked in the head, voices whispering until he’d hush them, snappier, a bit angry at how much space he took up, but he supposed that you might be a bit fucked in the head too, just in the opposite way than him.

But as he’d crept up to your room in the middle of the night, slowly cracking the door open, he still felt it was wrong. There was no medical expert here if something went wrong. This was his riskiest bomb defusing yet, it felt like an all or nothing situation.

The room was practically dripping with a sour and pungent smell of distress and the unmistakable scent of depression, the feeling seeming to press down on him like a heavy weight, as if he was hundreds of miles underneath the sea, nearly being crushed by the pure atmosphere.

As he closed the door behind him with a small click, he heard rustling, the sound of those uncomfortable paper textured blankets the military provided, and a little sniff, before it stopped. He stood still as could be, trying not to wake you just yet, hoping he would be able to make more out of you when his eyesight adjusted.

Only the tiniest sliver of moonlight snuck through the small window in the room, though it was covered by a blanket. Gaz had updated him on the syndrome, how it meant no bright lights.

Soap didn’t consider himself a genius, but he didn’t think it was a great idea to just submerge you into complete darkness and sight deprivation with no warning. Especially not while you were struggling.

He rolled from the ball of his feet to the sides, heavy boots not even on, only his red and green socks that his sister-in-law had bought him for secret Santa one year donning his feet as he moved quietly. Carefully grasping the blanket covering the window, he brushed it aside a little more, more gentle light flooding the room as a beam landed on near the side of the bed, allowing him a bit more vision of you.

And when he finally turned and managed to see you?

His heart dropped.

Your eyes were puffy from crying, corners red and eyelids tightly shut as if to block everything out. Your lips were downturned, almost as if whining even in sleep as you seemed to pant somehow quietly. As if not to alarm or alert anyone despite your own suffering.

What really got him was the way you were curled up, arms and legs wrapped tightly around in a ball as if to protect your vital organs, your paper thin blanket maneuvered around as if to resemble a nest. He could barely see you, considering you were underneath the bed. Hidden.

The blanket seemed to resemble the nest you’d been kept from entering, and shunned from by his own pack.

He couldn’t help the whine that slipped out of him at his own distress of seeing you, you clearly distraught, hair greasy and tangled, clothes dirty, not even having enough energy to care for yourself. If only the scent of your emotions in this room alone had been enough to almost crush him, how close were you to being smashed between the weight pressing in on you?

Or had you already been crushed, and none of them had even cared enough to notice?

A flood of anger burner through his veins hotter than any pain he’d experienced on the job as he saw the clear signs of his pack’s neglect of you. Simon had visited him multiple times a week, but hadn’t even tried with you. Price had pulled the strings to get him better food in the med wing (even if it had still been bad), but he hadn’t cared enough to even provide proper materials for you to make a faux nest? Gaz had brought him sketchbooks and helped him feel comfortable in physical therapy, but hadn’t even tried to court you with any of the special gifts he had done with Price when first joining?

It was unfair. Unbelievable, to think the grown men who had done so much, saved so many lives, sacrificed everything to save the world, wouldn’t even give up their pride if it meant welcoming a new member to the team.

It was discriminatory, to dislike you purely because you were an alpha. It was unfair to dislike you purely because you were a replacement.

He watched you squirm a bit, maybe reacting to his scent unconsciously. He knew he couldn’t smell the best, not when he had been around a sterile hospital for months. Maybe the cocoa butter Vaseline that the physical therapist had used on him would cover it a bit, though.

He crept closer, hand reaching out, before pulling back again as he hesitated, shifting onto his knees in front of your bed, before just laying down on his side to see you under it. His breathing grew a bit shaky due to anxiety as he reached out, brushing his hand against yours, watching your brows furrow unconsciously as you mumbled something.

It was only when he slipped his full hand into your surprisingly calloused palm that your eyelids fluttered, and you jolted awake, yanking away from him with your teeth bared back, a wild animalistic fear in your eyes. A low growl that reverberated through his bones came out, and he understood in that moment that you weren’t just a bomb he had to defuse.

You were a high value target that wasn’t afraid to fight back, not just some stationary object he wanted to fix. This wasn’t a defusing mission, it was more a complicated stakeout, where all he could do was make careful moves, waiting for you to take the initiative.

However, as you pulled harshly away from him, your head reared back and slammed into the metal frame above you. A pained whining groan slipped out, and Soap couldn’t take it anymore.

Mission be damned, stakeout be damned, his instincts got the better of him yet again. The exact reason he’d taken a bullet to the head. But he found that he would risk taking another bullet to the head if he could just comfort you, let you know that you weren’t alone, that he understood.

It was a worthy risk, in his opinion.

He grabbed part of your shoulder, putting his foot against the bed frame and lifting up, and pulled you right out from under.

His arms wrapped around you, even as you struggled and hissed, desperately trying to mask the pain in your scent with what he could tell was poorly produced anger. The littlest hint of comfort he could smell, that seemed to lighten the atmosphere just a bit.

He held on, even as you clawed at him, and bit his arms (which he might’ve enjoyed, just a little bit), he held on. He held on because he’d always had people holding onto him, Price, Gaz, and Ghost, with their vice grip that held him and their pack together.

They had failed to hold onto you, so he would.

And eventually, you stopped struggling. You went a little bit limp, whined a bit more as your head must’ve been throbbing (he knew how that felt), before finally, finally leaning the slightest bit into him.

Johnny didn’t need to be told that the next few months would be difficult. That the pack would struggle and go through hardships they hadn’t yet faced before. Hell, it had already been strained since his injury. He had gone through months of rehabilitation, and still wasn’t the exact same.

But as he lied on the cold floor with you in his arms, leaning just the tiniest bit into him, he knew that the both of you could heal together, even if from completely different things.

At least he was drowning with you, instead of being alone.

(idk how to feel about this tbh, I think I put too much symbolism since I wrote it in one take while in a mood, but I wanna play roblox so just gonna post this and dip)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[kdyq]

Hi, I got to know your blog recently and I loved your writing, your story of Ambessa x pregnant reader gave me an idea. What do you think of a modern au (or in the series setting if you prefer) Ambessa solo mom. Where she meets the reader and sees that the relationship between the two is getting more serious and decides to introduce formally to her children, I imagine them younger but if you want with them older it would be great too!! ❤️

A piece of her world.

AU! Milf!Ambessa x Fem!reader

context: You and Ambessa meet at a art gallery and a month later Ambessa wants the relationship to deepen by introducing you to her two kids Kino and Mel at dinner.

The first time you met Ambessa she gave off an effortlessly commanding presence drew attention the moment she entered the room. It was at a small art gallery downtown where you’d been helping a friend organize an opening. She was hard to miss her tall regal figure dressed in a tailored dark cherry red suit her sharp gaze sweeping the room as though sizing up a battlefield. What started as a simple conversation over drinks turned into dinner dates late night talks and an undeniably connection.

Months later you found yourself deeply in love with the woman who somehow balanced happiness and tenderness with ease. Still there was a part of her life she’d carefully kept at arm’s length her children.

She had spoken of them occasionally Kino her thoughtful and bookish eldest, and Mel her sarcastic and optimistic youngest. But she kept that part of her life separate not out of secrecy. But out of a deep sense of protection it doesn’t mean she didn’t trust you it’s just a motherly instinct of hers.

But it all changed one crisp Saturday morning when she invited you over for dinner.

“I think it’s time you met my children ”she said over the phone with a steady tone.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure” she replied. “You’ve become important to me and I think they need to see that.”

You smiled touched by her words. “I’d love to meet them.”

When you arrived at Ambessa’s house it was every bit as grand as you’d imagined modern and elegant with high ceilings grand decor and wide windows that let sunlight flood the space.

Ambessa greeted you at the door dressed casually for once in a fitted sweater and dark jeans. She looked calm but the slight tension in her posture betrayed her nerves.

“You’re nervous” you teased gently stepping inside.

She huffed crossing her arms. “I’m not nervous.”

“Liar” you said with a smile leaning up to kiss her cheek. “It’ll be fine.”

The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hallway and two figures stepped into the room. Kino appeared first tall and composed at eighteen with a quiet confidence that made him seem older than his years.

His dark locks in a back ponytail his brown eyes landed on you. He paused for a moment studying you in a way that felt both cautious and intrigued.

“You must be [Your Name] Kino said his tone even but polite as if he were testing the waters.

“I am” you replied matching his calm energy with a warm smile.

“And you must be Kino.”

He nodded a flicker of amusement crossing his face as his lips went into a faint smirk. “Mama talks about you. A lot.”

“Does she?” You glanced at Ambessa who stood just behind him arms crossed and exuding her usual composed demeanor.

But there was a hint of softness in her expression a subtle pride as she observed the interaction. “Good things I hope?”

“She said you’re smart and funny” Kino replied his tone teasing just enough to make you smile.

Before you could respond a smaller figure darted into the room behind him. Mel at fifteen moved with a youthful energy that contrasted sharply with her brother’s calm demeanor. Though she was only a few inches shorter than Kino her presence was just as commanding her green eyes flicking between you and her mother before finally settling on you.

“So” Mel said leaning casually against the doorway with a playful smirk “you’re the one who’s been stealing all of Mom’s attention.”

“That’s me” you said with a light laugh your gaze meeting hers. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

Mel tilted her head studying you with an intensity that reminded you of Ambessa though hers had a mischievous edge. “We’ll see.”

Kino groaned rolling his eyes as he turned to his sister. “Mel seriously can you not?”

“What?” Mel shrugged her smirk growing. “I’m just saying—”

“You’re gonna scaring them off” Kino cut her off with a sigh giving you a look that said this was a regular occurrence.

Mel opened her mouth to make a comeback but Ambessa’s voice cut through the playful tension like a blade. “Enough Mel.”

Mel held up her hands in mock surrender though the mischievous twinkle in her eye remained.

Before the back and forth could escalate even more Kino turned back to you and gestured toward the living room. “Come on” he said his voice quieter now almost shy.

“I want to show you something. Mom told me you like books and I’ve been putting together a library.”

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise genuinely touched by the offer. “I’d love to see it.”

As he led you out of the room Mel lingered behind with Ambessa. She crossed her arms her smirk softening as she glanced at her mother. “She’s better than the last one” she muttered under her breath.

Ambessa raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Mel.”

“What? I’m just saying.”

From the doorway Ambessa watched it all unfold with a quiet intensity. Her expression softened as she observed how naturally you fit into her world. The way Kino opened up to you the ease with which you handled Mel’s sarcasm it all struck a chord deep within her. For someone so fiercely protective of her family seeing this dynamic felt like a rare moment of peace as if the pieces of her life were finally aligning.

You glanced back at her catching her eye as Kino chatted excitedly about his favorite books. She gave you a small nod In her way of saying she was glad you were here.

Ambessa watched it all unfold with a quiet intensity her expression softening as she saw how naturally you fit into her world.

After dinner you and Ambessa retreated to the back patio the stars glittering above as the cool night air wrapped around you. She poured two glasses of Syrah red wine her usual strong composure giving way to something more vulnerable.

“You were amazing with them” she said her voice low but full of emotion.

“They’re incredible kids” you replied leaning into her side. “You’ve done an amazing job with them.”

She exhaled softly her arm wrapping around your shoulders. “It hasn’t been easy ”she admitted.

“Especially after their father went away. But they’re my world.”

“You don’t have to do it alone anymore ” you said your voice gentle but firm.

Ambessa looked at you her eyes searching yours. For a moment you saw the vulnerability she so rarely let show the weight of years spent carrying the burden of being both mother and protector.

“I know”she said softly her hand brushing against your cheek. “And I’m glad it’s you.”

You stayed like that for a long time wrapped in each other’s warmth as the future stretched out before you and filled with endless possibilities.

“THE END”

AN/ TYSM @baesye for requesting this i hope I brought your vision to life. I never really thought about doing an AU ambessa x fem reader story but in the near future I will definitely make more stories in a AU once again tysm 🙏🏾🙌🏾.

+ I’m running out of photos for Ambessa so ima have to reuse them and I can’t draw for shit so I gotta do what a what girl gotta do 😭🤷🏾‍♀️.