#to anyone who bothers to read this thank you!! i hope you enjoy

[waterfallofspace]

Thank you to the lovely @onetrickponi for this request:

From a little ask I intend to work my way through using ~this list~ (I actually am writing 2 things for this one, hope that's alright <3) I went with D/azai for the first one, featuring C/huuya ofc. It takes a minute to get into the actual snz, but hopefully it's still enjoyable~ 2.1k words, Prompt #17, story under cut! 17. What did you do to your nose to piss it off like this?" (References to swearing, and mild violence, in case anyone doesn't like either of those!)

~~~~~~~

Walking into his office in the morning Chuuya has learned to expect a certain number of problems to be waiting for him. Being an executive in the Port Mafia means cleaning up a lot of messes. It also means handling a lot of issues so they don’t become messes. All that to say, he expects problems, just not… this one. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Aw Chuuuya, that’s no way to greet your pahhrtner!”

“Former. Now? You’re just a traitor.”

“Words hurt you know.”

“I should kill you on sight.” 

Dazai casts him a dark smile, letting the chair tilt as he leans back, eyes void of anything you could call ‘human’. It’s an intense look; emotionless and calculated. He has with ease a terror inducing quality that even Mori lacks. Something that leaves you feeling cold and itchy. Almost as if how calm you feel in his presence sets off every alarm in your brain. 

“Come now. We both know you hhhaave no intention of that.”

“Why you-” 

“Aren’t you gonna ask me what I want? I mean- sneaking into the office of a Port Mafia executive? I must want something.” 

Considering punching a hole in the wall, Chuuya settles for a shaky sigh, fist clenching around his jacket as he drapes it over the desk. ‘If I killed him now I’d have to deal with Mori. Besides, I need him to leave here without alerting anyone else or I’ll get accused of aiding and abetting. It’s my office after all, and he’s sitting here like he fucking owns the place.’ 

“Fine. But only this once, you hear me? And get your feet off my desk, you bastard.” 

“There’s the Chuuya I know and love!”

“I have seven knives hidden within my reach.”

“What an interesting fact! My turn! I have a video of Chuuya snoring on my phone.” 

“Eh?! You- Ach. Just out with it. The sooner you tell me what you want the sooner you can leave. And get off my chair, would you?” 

A smirk spreads across Dazai’s face, a grimace appearing on Chuuya’s in response. With a noncommittal noise he vacates the chair, Chuuya quickly taking his place. ‘Better, but I won’t be able to relax till he’s gone.’ They pause for a minute, trading stares as Dazai’s hand twitches to his face. A single movement, but one that Chuuya decides not to ignore.

“Something wrong with you?”

“Manners, Chuuya! Even Mori has more tact. But since you ahhsk, yes actually. That happens to be why I’m here.”

Chuuya’s face pales, a shiver running down his spine as he attempts to scan Dazai’s form. ‘No obvious wounds, he doesn’t seem that pale so likely no blood loss… It shouldn’t be some sort of special ability malfunction, he’s carrying himself with too much confidence. But his breath has been shaking. I didn’t notice it before, maybe-’ Dazai tilts his head, letting a hand rub against his nose again. 

“Are you worried, partner? How kind of you~! I knew you cared!”  

“I- I do not! I just w- want you out of my office. That’s all.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Along with all the rest.”

“Are you gonna tell me what you want or not!?”

“Right! Nearly forgot. It’s a bit heh-! Scuse me. Bit embarrassing.” 

"Everything about you is embarrassing.”

The anticipated retort never comes. Instead, Dazai’s eyes shift to the wall, a slight haze coming over them as his hand hovers in front of his face. Chuuya finds himself unable to look away, mind running through possibilities. ‘Is he gonna faint? Maybe I ruled out blood loss too soon. No… not pale enough. Maybe it’s an enemy's special ability? How would that be embarrassing though…’

“Not again, guhh- I really thought I had it that time.”

The voice pulls Chuuya from his thoughts, eyes refocusing on the man standing in front of him aggressively scrubbing at his nose. It’s only now that Chuuya starts to piece it together. The watery quality of his eyes, the slight flush to his face, and finally the dampness surrounding his nose. ‘Are you fuckin-’ 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You broke into the Port Mafia because you’re sneezing?”

“Actually, no. But good try, you’re very c- huhh-! close. I broke into your office because I can’t sneeze.”

“Wha-” 

Dazai lifts his hand back to his nose, sniffling with a quality that makes Chuuya flinch. He pinches it lightly, eyes starting to unfocus again, before huffing out a sigh and drifting his focus back to Chuuya. In response, Chuuya huffs out a laugh. ‘Wish I could say this is the weirdest reason he’s ever had for coming to see me. Unfortunately, this is pretty standard Dazai.’

“It’s not nice to laugh at someone who’s suffering!”

“Why the hell would you break in here for a sneeze?”

“Weren’t you listening? It’s the lack of sneeze that’s brought me here.”

“You know what I meant, jackass.” 

“It’s not exactly a problem I’m eager to share with just anyone. Not ex- hahh-! guhh… not exactly the proudest moment of my life. I needed someone I trust.” 

Chuuya pinches the bridge of his nose to fight off the growing headache. ‘I always seem to get one when interacting with him.’ Weighing the pros and cons of killing him here and now, Chuuya lets another sigh out, a low growl nipping at its heels as he offers a response. 

“Don’t you have someone over at the agency? The tiger kid, or that ideals man.”

“Maybe, but I wanted you.” 

A warmth starts to spread over his cheeks before he can stop it, Chuuya roughly huffing to distract from it. Judging by the smile that appears on Dazai’s face, he was unsuccessful. ‘Ach. What does it matter anyways, he’s the one embarrassed here. I don’t even care! I should just throw him out on his ass.’ Despite the sentiment, Chuuya finds himself vocalizing the complete opposite.

“Let’s just get this over with.” 

“Aw, see? I knew Chuuya would hhhhelp me!”

“Ju- just shut up, bandage waste. D… did you h- have something in mind?”

“Actually, yes. You see, this tihihhh- tickle has been bothering me for quite some time. I attempted a few rehhmedies myself, but it seems to be ineffective- heHH-!” 

Another pause fills the room as Dazai’s breath catches, a tear fighting to free itself as his hand flutters in front of his face. After an entirely too awkward amount of time, Dazai finally sighs, rubbing his nose against his bandaged arm as a light cough spills out. Chuuya fills the silence that follows, wanting to end this experience as quickly as possible. 

“So?”

“So, I figured it haahhh… has to be someone else. I checked around your office for something effecti-”

“-You did what?”

“-tive, and landed on this feahhhther. Not sure why you even have this, but I suppose it’s none of my business.”

“I- I uh-”

The look that crosses Dazai’s face has Chuuya’s fists clenching again, his entire body begging him to knock it off the bastard's face. Instead he stands, ripping the feather from Dazai’s hands and pushing him against the wall. A breath is snagged from Dazai’s lungs at the force, his eyes meeting Chuuya’s with a dirty look.

“Someone’s bossy a- hahh-! all of a sudden-”

“S- shut up and close your eyes.”

“Close my…?”

“I’m not doing this with you looking at me l- like that.” 

Dazai doesn’t respond, but he does as he’s told. ‘For once.’ Chuuya grimaces, fighting the warmth that threatens to reignite against his cheeks as he brushes the feather against Dazai’s nose. Dazai’s breath catches as his head tilts back on its own. ‘This’ll be easier than I thought. Bastard really couldn’t do this himself?’

“heHH-! ehh… hihh-! hEP-! guhhhh…”

“What the- are you fighting it?”

“Nohhhh… Ihhehh-! It’s been l- heAH-! like this all da-ahhhy-! It’s been driving me in… insane- hEP-! Damn…”

“Shit Dazai, what did you do to your nose to piss it off like this?”

“I had to ho- heHP-! huhh… holdback for a meeting, and I thhhhink this is… is… heAH-! is payback.” 

Chuuya can’t help but laugh, prompting a watery glare from the tortured man in front of him. He pulls the feather away to reevaluate, Dazai moaning slightly as it’s removed, breath catching again- leading to nothing once more. ‘This isn’t working, I need a better plan…’

“Whatever it takes, right?”

“You have my phehh-! permission to do anything your little hhheart requires. As long as it gets results.” 

“Got it. Stay here, and don’t touch anything!”

With that, Chuuya brushes out of the room, heading straight for Mori’s office. ‘There’s something in here… I think he keeps it in this- there it is! This whole thing might end up being enjoyable after all.’ Grabbing the item, Chuuya returns to his office, surprised to find Dazai pressed against the wall where he left him, eyes still shut.  

“Ready?”

“Go fohhh… for it.”

Offering a tight nod in response, a grin starting to spread over his mouth, Chuuya holds up the cologne, spraying it right onto Dazai’s nose.  The effect is immediate, his eyes snapping open, staring right into Chuuya’s, before fluttering closed again, jerking as far away from Chuuya as he can manage.

“heH-! hAH’KXSH-ENXSHH’diue-! Oh thank go- AIYZSHH-hNNXSHh’iew-!”

“Christ, Dazai.”

“heHh… wait there… there’s… huhH-! eh’KZSHH’shiew-! dAHZZSHhh’uu-!”

“A- are you-” 

“hh- hah’ihZSHHh’diue-! hehh’knESZHh’oo-! hehh.. huhHH-! ihh’tnZSHhhieww-!” 

The third seems to surprise them both, Dazai managing to bring a hand up to scrub at his face, pinching his nose shut and prying his eyes open. Chuuya can’t help but wince at the ticklish look of his face, nose quivering, still hitching despite the iron grip he has placed over it. A desperate look flashes across his features as he ducks into his chest, fingers still glued to his nose being used to stifle.

“hH’GNXT-INDXXT-! tehhh… heh’inGT-aiNGT’shh-! ihHH-! hh- knnGT-eh’dNT’chh-!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t-”

“eh’kznngt-inndgt’chhh-! huhh-! hk’nxxt’chh-geh’dxxt’choo-! heH-! dnNXt’choo-ainGT’choo-!” 

“Seriously you moron that’s only gonna-”

“ihh’knnT’oo-! iNDXT’oo-! hahHHh… gehh- hehH-! hehH’KXXNT’shoo-! eh’dENXGT’shhoo-!”

Each breath increases the tickle, Dazai only seeming able to inhale when he’s building for the next sneeze. Before he can think it through, Chuuya finds himself prying his hands away, holding them together. Dazai opens his eyes again, desperation flooding them as he tries to break free.

“Ch- Chuuya.. I hhhaaaa… haavee to… guhhh-! gonna… heHh-!”

“J- just sneeze, okay? That’s why you came to me isn’t it? Besides, this is hard to watch.”

No time to fight Dazai gives one last effort to break free. It fails spectacularly, and instead he attempts to aim for the floor, only succeeding in reaching Chuuya’s chest. Chuuya growls at the display, but ultimately resigns himself to the outcome. ‘Technically it’s my own fault. Still, bastard’s probably doing this on purpose.’ 

“ahh’tezshhiew-knnezsshh’iew-! heHh… guhh- hiH-! aih’YIZSHHhh’oo-YIEZSHH’shhoo-!"

"Bl-"

"hahhh… hAHhh-! ah’gnZUSHHh’diew-eh’zzUSHHhh’diew-!”

“Bless you.”

“Th- thahhhnnk… hH’INCHh’oo-! knNCHHH’oo-!”

“Don’t waste your breath.” 

“See- heH-! Seems like you’re the sneeehhh… eh’tzsshh’oo-! tzzshhh’oo-! sneeze whisperer, Chu- choo… ahh’CHH’uuya-! heh’CHH’uuya-!” 

A blush spreads across Chuuya’s face as he aims a kick for Dazai’s stomach, just a little satisfied when the bastard grunts in response. ‘It wasn’t strong enough to do any real damage.’ Dazai attempts to laugh, the noise coming out strangled as the congestion seeps into his voice. 

“Something the matter?”

“I- I will throw you out the window, Dazai.” 

“Might be doing me a faahhh… again..? heH’KZSHhh’oo-! kEHSZHH’oo-! Scuse me. Might be doing me a favour. This is gonna laahhh… last all day.” 

“You asked for it.”

“Yehh- yes I did.”

Freeing himself from Chuuya’s grasp, Dazai starts to head for the door, pausing with a spin to face him once more. A look spreads across his face, one that steals Chuuya’s breath the way the sneezes had stolen Dazai’s. A look with real emotion laced in it. 

“I don’t regret it, you know. Coming to you. I made the right choice.”

Leaving no room for a response, Dazai gives a wave, before crushing his nose into his palm again as he exits the room. Chuuya pauses, seemingly frozen in place as his mind races through the interaction. Replaying every moment as if he’s watching a recording in his head. 

‘Smug bastard. Just wanted an excuse to break into the Port Mafia, I bet that’s it. He just wanted to prove that he could get into my office whenever he wanted. Picked the dumbest reason just to piss me off.’ 

It’s a lie, and he knows it. But just for now, it’s easier than the truth, so Chuuya decides to stick to it, ignoring the smile that starts to form. A few floors down as Dazai makes his escape, the same smile graces his features.

“It was nice to see you too, partner.” 

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

If you want to could you please do a fic with Jason's Girlfriend (rather Arkham Night or when he is still early Red Hood) gets hit with Scarecrow's fear toxin and Jason is trying to help her through it or give her an antidote. But she is terrified of him and think he is attacking or trying to kill her. Maybe it's because while she does love him and he loves her she started working with him because she is helping Batman get Jason to hopefully see his family again and Jason does know so she is scared of his reaction. Sorry if that's confusing or a lot.

Thank you for reading whether you do the request or not

-🍓

Guilty Hearts

Hi 🍓! I know this took a while to get out but I hope you see it. I think we might be psychically linked because this came into my ask box while I was editing my other fear toxin fic. Enjoy! ~1k words

The Arkham Knight is going to destroy whoever caused you to get like this. He stands, ridged and protective, between you and the milita medics who are shifting uneasily behind him. You're curled into the corner of the room, knees to your chest and arms wrapped around yourself. He never breaks his gaze as you rock yourself, silent tears spilling down your cheeks.

Seventy-two minutes. That's how long you've been like this. Trapped in the nightmares of your mind's own creation, hallucinations caused by a dosage of Scarecrow's fear toxin. 

He doesn't know how you got like this, what happened, he didn't bother to ask when he was finally informed. The Arkham Knight just stormed his way to you. 

The medics managed to tell him that you've screamed your voice raw but still fought anyone who got close enough to try and stick you with the antidote. 'That's his partner,' he thinks. Always the fighter.

He scowls behind his helmet when he notices the self-inflicted scratch marks over your arms, a common reaction to the toxin. "Everybody out." He snaps, snatching a needle filled with the antidote from one the medics. They file out quickly, sensing his mood. They should be running. Everyone knows what you are to him. He's made it more than clear and the fact that you're suffering? The fact it took over an hour for him to be told? He'll make sure someone pays for that later.

But that is later, and this is now. You're what's most important. He tugs off his helmet once the last medic leaves the room and takes a step towards you.

You let out a raw, strangled cry with what's left of your voice. He doesn't know what you're seeing, what you think he is, but it makes his heart clench to see you so scared. He knows he can be frightening now, so different from what he used to be. But he'd never hurt you, never, not on purpose. 

The Arkham Knight crouches down to your level, and says your name softly, carefully, trying not to startle you. "I'm here to help, I promise, baby. I need you to trust me. I'm going to make it better." He soothes, creeping closer to you inch by inch. He makes sure to stay low, to make himself look smaller.

It doesn't seem to help, fresh tears fall faster from your eyes and you whimper. He repeats your name over and over, trying to draw you away from whatever fear is tormenting you. "Just hold on a little longer. It's going to be okay. I'm going to make it okay."

He shifts closer to you, reaches out one hand to try and touch you, and you bolt, scrambling to get as far away from him as possible. 

He catches you around the waist, needle clattering to the floor as he wrestles you to the ground. It's harder than it should be, he's trying to be gentle, trying not to harm you, but you're kicking and crying and clawing like you'll die if you don't fight. The Arkham Knight wonders what you see, what twisted image is taking over your mind as you fight him.

You see him. The Arkham Knight– Jason. You know there's something wrong with you, something bad, but between the pounding of your heart and the way the shadows seem to writhe, you can't remember what it is. 

You tried to get away from him– it. He's angry at you, you know he is. You can hear it in the robitical breathing, the way fire dances in place of the glowing whites of his eyes. 

You're scared. You don't know how he knows. You don't know how he found out or what he thinks, but he's going to hurt you. That's what the choir of hissing voices whispers into your ear. 

He knows you've helped Batman– Bruce. You didn't want to betray him. You weren't trying to hinder his revenge plan in any way. Bruce didn't even know it was you who told him. You just– all you did was tell him to have extra fear toxin antidotes ready. You just couldn't stand the thought of someone losing the people they loved, not when you knew exactly how it felt.

The Arkham Knight freezes when you start to beg. He's never heard you so scared, so shaken. You sound like he did. Back in that cell.

You thought a part of him might understand that. Your adrenaline spikes when he reaches for something just out of your field of vision. He's going to hurt you. He's going to make you pay for your disloyalty. You let out a sob and start to beg, broken pleas of his name leave your lips, it's the only sound you can make anymore.

"Please, Jason," You rasp out, "m'sorry. So sorry." He shushes you as you start to paw at his chest plate in a last ditch attempt to get away. Always so strong, you are. 

Jason takes your wrists in one hand and sticks the needle into your skin with the other, releasing the antidote into your bloodstream. 

"There you go, there you go, doll. Good job." He mumbles into your hair, pulling you up so you can settle in his lap, his arms securely around your body. Your breathing is shaky, uneven, and your hands move to curl into the straps of his armor. You're not trying to get away from him anymore, proof the antidote is taking hold. 

He keeps cooing mindless reassurances as you cry quietly into his shoulder, his hand running soothing lines up and down your back. He presses his lips to the top of your head and holds you a little tighter to him.

When you're more yourself, Jason will tell you you have nothing to be sorry for. He knows. Of course, he knows what you told Bruce. He knows everything about you. If spilling a few secrets to his plan eases your guilty conscience and keeps you by his side, so be it.

Scarecrow's just a means to an end anyway. All that matters is that you stay. That you keep following him down his path in hell, and if you turn to look back a few times, well, he'll just hold your hand all the more tighter and keep dragging you along with him.

[myspacebrat]

dreams about my dealer…

dealer e.m. x fem reader

blurb request: 💌Hey Tori! Hope your day is going lovely 😊 As a request for the vday celebration, could I pls get a blurb where the reader is nerdy and loves reading old cheesy romance novels like these? And one night she falls asleep after reading and she fantasizes about her dealer Eddie as this suave romance hero who sweeps her off her feet and gets her all hot and bothered. And so after that night she starts buying books covers where the men resemble him and he catches on during one of their smoke seshs. You decide how it ends 😉😉 by: @honey-flustered

authors note: This is such a fun request, thank you for sending it in lovely. Hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants a part two of just smut pls lmk cause I’d love to, but ya know I’m trying to blurb here.

all of my works are 18+

“there ya go, wrap your arms around me, sweet girl. Just like that.” The familiar voice bellows into your neck.

“I’ve got you now, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your flesh this time, sending shivers down your spine. The long familiar hair tickles at your collar bone as his arms wrap tighter around you. This time causing a very needed friction between you and this mystery man.

“Mmm, go ahead angel, make yourself feel good.” He says again before removing his face from the crook of your neck and revealing himself to you.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You pop up out of bed, removing your sleep mask before you slam your hand down on the obnoxious alarm clock sitting on your side table.

You feel a wetness in your panties when you go to stand up and it’s as if a flash goes off in your mind and you’re taken back to the dream you were just awoken from. Eddie, your drug dealer in nothing but blue jeans, his hair wrapped in a low bun with loose strands that brushed your sensitive skin and his big muscular chest dripping with sweat as he held you against his body protectively.

You look back over towards your bed, eyes glancing over the book you fell asleep reading. You couldn’t deny the man on the cover looked pretty close in comparison to eddie, long hair and the same exact attire as he was wearing in your dream. The man had a smirk on his face that was almost identical to the usual smirk eddie always had when you’d buy your weed from him.

later that day you find yourself across town, at your local library; ready to check out any and every dirty romance novel with a man that in some capacity meets your dealers description. You couldn’t believe the crush that formed from one little dream, you’d been festering on thoughts of eddie all day and you need more ammo for these ongoing fantasies and the very welcomed dreams you might have tonight.

You’re able to find five books in total, and you just knew you were gonna whip through them all in one week. There was a hunger in your center that just needed to be satiated, and if you couldn’t have the real thing, then the next best will do just fine.

The next morning, you speed walk through the halls of Hawkins high, binder held tight to your body as you keep your head down just trying to get to biology in one piece, but you’re running late so your feet move frantically as you go over an excuse to give Mr. Sivertson before you breech his classroom door. As you become deeply lost in your thoughts you collide into another body who was rounding the corner, your binder falls out of your hands and on to the floor as the other persons hands catch you by your waist.

“Where’s the fire, sweetheart?” The all too familiar voice fills your ears and you freeze, eyes now level with an ozzy shirt and his statement leather jacket.

Eddie’s eyes glance down towards your stuff that fell into a messy pile between your feet, your heart hammers when he bends down to grab something. The smirk on his face tells you exactly what he’d found and now you just want to run back to where you came from, get in your car and drive to a whole new town.

“Whatcha got here?” He says through a dopey laugh, as if you’d been caught red handed. That’s exactly what’s happening.

“Didn’t think a church mouse like you would read these kinds of books.” He whispers, although you two are the only ones in the hall.

“I-I’m not a church mouse, and give me my book back.” You huff and snatch your book out of his heavily ringed hand, but your face was far too guilty and you knew that eddie knew exactly why you had these books in your possession.

You eventually side step him, not wanting to hear any of his teasing that you knew he’d readily dish out. Eddie wasn’t a bully per say but he was an asshole, a cocky asshole to be specific.

Once you’re out of biology, you speed walk to your locker. Ready to put this godforsaken book away until the end of the day, when you can read it in bed, cuddled up where no one would make fun of you. But as you open your locker a folded piece of paper falls out and hits the toe of your flat. you shove your binder into a cubbie before bending down to retrieve it.

Meet me behind the football field after school

- EM

Your stomach fills with butterflies as it simultaneously sinks into the depths of your ass.

Why would he want to meet up after school? Was he going to poke fun at you? Have you show his friends your book so they could all laugh at you?

But another part of your brain said:

What if this is it? What if he really wants you? Maybe he’ll kiss you? Maybe you can finally feed this hunger.

That was all you needed to make your split decision.

After school, you grab your book from your locker and make a beeline for the football field. Bypassing quick goodbyes from your friends.

When you finally make it to the tree line, you exhale a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, then you take a few deeper steps into the desolate woods. No one else came back here except for one infamous metalhead, so you knew you wouldn’t be met with any asshole jocks. That settled your stomach a bit, but not fully.

You see the back of Eddie’s head first as he sits on the old warped, wooden bench; hunched over as if in concentration. When you move closer, walking around the rickety table you can now see that he’s breaking up a nug of weed and placing it into a zig zag before rolling it up, snug.

Your eyes meet when he glides his tongue along the lining, he smirks up at you as your eyes gawk at the movements of his pink muscle, licking up and down. You can’t help but to squeeze your thighs together, that burning in your core blazes hot and he hasn’t even touched you.

Your eyes flicker back up into his and you realize that he’s watching you, watch him.

In a moment of faux confidence, you ask—

“What’s with the letter in my locker, Munson? I thought I was the one that was supposed to put the letters in your locker when I want to smoke.” You shoot him a weak smile, making him scoff as he puts the joint behind his ear for safe keeping.

“Are you gonna sit your ass down and smoke this with me or not?” He huffs, pulling a zippo lighter out of his leather jacket pocket and flipping the lid open and closed, open and closed. Is-is that a nervous tick? Is he nervous, too?

You lower yourself onto the seat in front of him, taking on your own nervous tick of picking at your nails.

He takes the joint from behind his ear, his eyes never leaving your form and it has you cowering deeper into yourself. He lights the spliff and inhales deep, holding it in for a second and then letting the smoke bellow out of his nose and mouth. You can’t deny how undeniably sexy he is.

“So, those little slutty novels you have—” He starts

“They’re not slutty! They’re romance novels, Eddie!” You screech in embarrassment, as your cheeks heat up from the deep cackle he makes in your expense.

“Yeah yeah, princess. Tell me, do they fuck in these romance novels?” He throws weak quotation marks up for the last two words, as his eyebrows shoot up under his bangs in question.

“Well, I mean…yeah they do.” You respond with a defeated slump of your shoulders.

“Mhm, just as I suspected. Slutty.” The way he sing-songs ‘slutty’ makes you fall into a fit of giggles, and the noise is music to Eddie’s ears.

“So uh, do you want me to make you feel better than those shitty books ever could?”

[mononijikayu]

lay your love on me — nanami kento.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?” He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.” “Well,” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face, “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.” “And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead,” you announced with a grin.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: romance, marriage, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, possessive behaviour, protectiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader petitions for nanami to be her house husband;

WORD COUNT: 5.4k words.

NOTE: i hope this makes up for the fact that i've been writing a lot of angsty fics. this was supposd to be a baywatch thing. but i changed my mind. anyway, i'll be doing the side - 900 works in advance. i hope you enjoy this!!! from this point, i might be slower in updating because i'll be back to uni again and probably will be a little bit more busy. thank you for reading and always enjoy this one too!!! i love you <3

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HE’S NOT PROUD OF THE MAN HE’S BECOME. But it’s hard for him, when it comes to you, his precious wife. Nanami Kento had always considered himself above petty emotions like jealousy. He was calm, rational, the kind of man who could look at the world with a level head.

Yet, ever since he met you, ever since he’s fallen for you, built his life, his universe about you — his life had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. You brought out something in him that was unfamiliar and unsettling—a possessiveness, an insecurity that gnawed at him whenever he saw the way others looked at you. 

As he sat next to you on the sun-kissed beach, the warm Malaysian sunbathing you both in a golden glow, Nanami Kento found it difficult to fully relax. This was supposed to be your quality time, the belated honeymoon you both had both worked so hard to carve out from your hard and demanding schedules. For once, he had managed to take time off from his life as a sorcerer, a rare break that was meant to be a celebration of your love, their commitment to each other. 

You were just as busy as he was, if not more. As a lawyer, you were brilliant, successful, and independent. You made more than he did, something that had never bothered him—until now. Not because of pride, but because it made him realize just how much you had to offer. You could have anyone, and yet you had chosen him. The thought should have been reassuring, but instead, it only added to his insecurity.

Instead of peace, he found himself caught up in a swirl of emotions he couldn’t quite shake. It wasn’t just his possessiveness—it was the realization that, for the first time in his life, he was vulnerable. He was vulnerable because he loved you so deeply, because the thought of losing you, or of someone else taking your attention, filled him with a fear he didn’t know how to handle. 

Kento couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you lay on the sunbed, basking in the warm Malaysian sun. The way the golden rays kissed your skin, making it glow, had him utterly captivated. You were wearing the tightest two-piece bikini, a vibrant floral design that contrasted beautifully against your sun-kissed skin. The colors brought out the vibrancy of your figure, accentuating every curve in a way that made his heart race.

He watched as you stretched languidly, your body moving with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly to him. The sunlight danced across your skin, highlighting the delicate contours of your body, the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, the curve of your waist, the length of your legs.

Every inch of you was perfection in his eyes, and it drove him mad how stunning you were. But it wasn’t just your physical beauty that had him so entranced; it was the knowledge that you were his, that this incredible, breathtaking person had chosen him.

His gaze lingered on your face, where a peaceful smile played on your lips, your eyes closed as you enjoyed the warmth of the sun. The gentle breeze teased a few strands of your hair, brushing them across your forehead, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He loved these quiet moments, where he could just watch you, memorize the way you looked in the golden light, the way the sun turned your hair into a halo of warmth.

You were the most beautiful being to ever exist to him, and the thought made his chest tighten with a mix of pride and disbelief. How had he been so fortunate? What had he done to deserve someone like you in his life?

The longer he watched you, the more he felt that familiar, possessive edge creeping in. It was a feeling he wasn’t entirely comfortable with, one that he had never experienced before you came into his life. He had never thought of himself as the jealous type, but when it came to you, something primal and protective stirred within him. He didn’t want anyone else to look at you the way he did, to see what he saw, to appreciate the way you made the world a brighter, more beautiful place just by existing.

And yet, as he sat there, he knew that others couldn’t help but notice you too. It was impossible not to. You were radiant, magnetic, and he could see the way people’s gazes lingered on you, the appreciative looks that followed you whenever you walked by. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to do something irrational, to pull you close and stake his claim in front of everyone.

Kento could see the way men’s eyes lingered on you, the admiration in their gazes as they took in your beauty. It made his blood boil in a way he wasn’t proud of. He wanted to stand up, to make it clear that you were his, that no one else had the right to look at you like that. But he stayed silent, gripping your hand a little tighter, hoping the feeling would pass.

You opened your eyes, and your gaze met his. The smile that spread across your face was one of pure love, your eyes softening as you looked at him. In that moment, all his insecurities melted away. You were his, and he was yours. It was as simple as that.

Kento leaned back in his chair, his own smile tugging at his lips as he continued to watch you. You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow, your expression playful as you caught him staring.

“See something you like?” you teased, your voice light and full of affection.

“Always, my love.” he replied, his voice deep and sincere. His gaze never left yours as he spoke, and you could see the intensity of his feelings reflected in his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that made his heart skip a beat. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

Kento couldn’t help but grin at that, though his expression quickly turned serious again. “It drives me mad, you know,” he admitted, his voice low. “How beautiful you are. How you’re mine.”

The way he said it, with such raw emotion, made your heart flutter. There was something in his tone, something almost possessive, that sent a shiver down your spine. But it wasn’t a bad feeling. If anything, it made you feel even closer to him, knowing that he felt so deeply for you.

“And you’re mine.” you replied softly, reaching out to take his hand in yours. The simple touch seemed to calm him, his fingers threading through yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Your eyes narrowed on him. “Only mine.”

And then there was your possessiveness. You couldn’t deny it—you were just as bad as he was when it came to jealousy. You tried to play it cool, but the truth was, you were no better at hiding it than he was. The moment you noticed the women stealing glances at him, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders, his chiseled features, you felt a wave of irritation wash over you.

It was subtle, but Kento could sense the tension in you, the way your posture stiffened, the way you shifted closer to him, almost instinctively, as if to stake your claim. You wanted the world to know that this man was yours and yours alone.

Just as it does now.

Because if you were being honest, your husband was the most beautiful man in the world. With his muscular build and tall six-foot frame, he was the epitome of masculine perfection. The way his long, muscular arms held that beer bottle in his massive palm, the casual strength in his grip, made your heart flutter. His chiseled jaw tightened as he glanced in the direction of the men who had dared to look your way, his bright brown eyes narrowing in a clear, unmistakable warning. He didn’t have to say a word—the message was loud and clear: stay away.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break through. This man belonged to you, and he wanted everyone to be sure that they knew it. There was something undeniably satisfying about the way he made it so obvious, so deliberate. And you knew that he felt the same way about you. 

His gaze flicked back to you, softening when he saw the look in your eyes. It was a look that said, “I’m yours.” and it made your heart swell with love and possessiveness all over again.

You didn’t care if it was irrational, if it was a little bit crazy—this man was yours, and you were his. And you wanted everyone to know that you belonged to each other, that nothing and no one could come between you.

Kento must have sensed your thoughts, because he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “You know you’re the only one I see, right?”

His voice was deep, reassuring, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I know, babe." you whispered back, your fingers curling around his arm, feeling the solid muscle beneath his skin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure everyone else knows it too.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper, something more primal. “Good.” he said, his tone possessive and full of promise. “Because I’m not about to let anyone forget that you’re mine either.”

You grinned at that, the fiery possessiveness in his words matching your own. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual understanding that neither of you would ever let anyone come between what you had. Because you both knew that what you had was rare, precious, and worth protecting at all costs.

As you stood there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. This beautiful, strong, and fiercely loyal man was yours. And you were his.

You pressed a kiss to his jaw, savoring the way he responded, the way his arm tightened around you just a little bit more. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of everything you felt for him, everything you both felt for each other. This man belonged to you, and you belonged to him. And nothing in the world could change that.

It was a strange sort of dance, the two of you caught in a loop of possessiveness that neither could quite break free from. And yet, there was something oddly reassuring about it. In a world where you both faced so many uncertainties, where danger lurked around every corner, this shared jealousy was a reminder that you were both fiercely committed to each other. It wasn’t healthy, Kento knew that, but it was real. Even if you weren’t proud of it, even if Kento wasn’t proud of it — it was real. Between the two of you. It was love for you.

Still, the women’s gazes hadn’t wavered, you noticed. Their eyes still linger on your husband as if they had every right to admire him. The sight made your blood simmer, a protective, possessive streak flaring to life within you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kento—he was as loyal as they came—but you didn’t appreciate the way they were looking at him, as if he were something to be desired, something they could claim if they tried hard enough.

Your grip on his hand tightened as you leaned closer and you cast a glance in his direction. Kento, ever composed, was doing his best to ignore the attention, but you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered to you as if seeking reassurance. He puts away the beer bottle on the side and looks to you again. 

A grin slowly spread across your lips as an idea formed. If those women wanted to look at your husband, you’d give them something to see—a clear, undeniable reminder that he was yours. You leaned in, your hand resting on his chest as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze.

Kento looked down at you, a question in his eyes, but before he could ask, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a hot, passionate kiss. The world around you faded as you poured all your love, your possessiveness, your desire into that kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a statement. A declaration that this man, this incredible, strong, loyal man, was yours. And no one else had any right to him. He only belongs to you. Only you.

Kento’s initial surprise melted away as he responded in kind, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, pulling you even closer. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that matched your own, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body relaxed into yours as if nothing else mattered. Kento’s arms slowly wrap around the small of your back, kissing you even deeper. 

When you finally pulled back, you were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see the effect it had on him, the way his eyes had darkened with desire, the small, satisfied smile that tugged at his lips. You glanced over at the women who had been ogling him earlier. Their expressions had shifted—some were embarrassed, others annoyed, but all of them had gotten the message loud and clear.

Triumph surged through you as you turned back to Kento, your grin widening. “I think they got the point, babe.” you whispered, your voice teasing.

Kento chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over your lips as if to savor the moment. “I believe they did.” he murmured, his tone filled with warmth and a hint of amusement. “Though I must admit, I didn’t mind that at all.”

“Then…..can we continue this upstairs?”

Your husband’s eyes narrow, almost awakening something in him. “What do you have in mind?”

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YOU DON’T THINK YOU WOULD EVER GET TIRED OF HIM. Nanami Kento always made you feel so many things—desire, love, passion—and you loved every bit of it. The tension between you had been building ever since that heated kiss on the beach, and as you made your way back to your hotel room, it only grew stronger.

Each step, each shared glance, every subtle touch added fuel to the fire burning between you. The anticipation was electric, and by the time you reached the door, it was like a dam waiting to burst.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the restraint you’d both been holding onto snapped. You pressed yourself against him, your lips crashing into his with a fervor that had your head spinning. It was as if you couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t close the gap between you fast enough. His hands roamed your body with a hunger that matched your own, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more desperate, as you both succumbed to the need that had been simmering beneath the surface all day. His fingers dug into your hips, guiding you back toward the bed as he claimed your mouth over and over again, each kiss more intense than the last.

You could feel his desire, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the low growl that rumbled in his chest as you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. The moment the fabric hit the floor, his lips were back on yours, his hands working to free you from your bikini. The way he touched you, with a mix of reverence and raw need, sent shivers down your spine. He breaks the kiss.

“Kento, Kento….” you breathed finally, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini, and the sensation of the cool air against your bare skin only heightened the intensity of the moment.

He leaned back for just a moment, his gaze sweeping over you with a look of pure, unfiltered desire. “You’re perfect, my love.” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, before his lips were back on yours, more insistent this time, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a second.

Your hands found their way to the waistband of his beach shorts, your fingers trembling slightly as you pushed them down, the fabric pooling at his feet. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way his hard, muscular frame pressed against you, and it sent a rush of heat straight to your core.

The bed hit the back of your knees, and before you knew it, you were tumbling onto the soft sheets, Kento following you down, his body covering yours in an instant. The weight of him, the feel of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. He presses his lips against yours again, the heat between your bodies burning you even more.

You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body as if he was trying to memorize you all over again. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, the heat of him throbbing against your thigh, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck once again and across your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. The feeling of his mouth on your skin, combined with the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, was almost too much to bear.

“Kento, babe.” you gasped, your voice breaking as he found that sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the skin there in a way that made you arch against him, desperate for more. “It’s so….it’s so hot.”

“Tell me what you want, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with need.

“You.” you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel every part of him against you. “I want you, Kento.”

The way he responded, with a deep, guttural groan, sent shivers down your spine. His hands moved to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. It was as though he found home again. You groaned as you felt his hands explore the exposed skin. He was enjoying this, you knew. He enjoyed teasing you.

“God, Kento.” you breathed out, your voice trembling with need. He was driving you wild, his touch lighting you up in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You needed more, needed him closer, needed to feel him in every possible way..

You could feel him pressing against you, his lips returning to yours in a kiss that was just as intense as before. It was almost too much, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours, the way his hands moved with such skill and tenderness, the way every inch of him seemed to be in tune with your needs.

The anticipation was building, the need for him becoming overwhelming as you felt his fingers deftly undo the last of your bikini top. The cool air of the room brushed against your exposed skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating between the two of you. You could feel the wetness pooling between your thighs, the desperate longing for him growing with each passing second.

Kento’s touch was everything—gentle and firm, demanding and patient all at once. The way he handled you, the way he made you feel, it was almost too much to bear, and yet you couldn’t get enough. You wanted more, needed more, and he seemed more than willing to give it to you. He liked to give you more and more, to satiate your greed.

Your bodies moved together with a rhythm that felt both familiar and electrifyingly new. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the soft rustle of sheets, and the occasional, intoxicating moans that slipped from your lips as Kento's hands roamed over your bare skin.

His touch was a maddening mix of tenderness and raw desire, each caress lighting a fire inside you that grew with every passing moment. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, and the softness of thighs, lingering just long enough to make you gasp before moving on. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as his lips followed the path of his hands, kissing and nipping at every sensitive spot he could find.

You arched your back as his mouth moved lower, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your collarbone before trailing down to your chest. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as if he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, the way you felt beneath him. His tongue flicked over your nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you that made your toes curl. You moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him on.

Kento responded with a low growl, the sound vibrating against your skin as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before letting his teeth graze the sensitive flesh. The sensation was almost too much to bear, your body reacting with a surge of heat that pooled between your thighs. You could feel the wetness there, the way your body was aching for him, and you knew that he could feel it too.

His hands slid down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips before dipping between your thighs. The first touch of his fingers against your slick heat made you cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily as you pressed yourself against his hand. He moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you with light, feathery touches that only made your desire grow stronger.

You could feel the tension building inside you, the need for release becoming almost unbearable as he continued to tease you. His fingers slipped between your folds, stroking you with a skill that had your head spinning. Each touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your body trembling with anticipation as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. One after another, it was a pandemonium of pleasure. When you came, you sobbed as you felt his fingers tighten against your crevices.

“Kento, babe. Please.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, I need you.”

He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. There was something primal in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, and that knowledge sent a thrill of excitement through you.He removed his fingers, licking them clean one after another, enjoying the taste of you. The sight of him made you even more wet.

“What do you want, my love?” He cooed at you. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside, Kento.” You muttered, your eyes beaming with pleasure. “Please, babe. Please.”

He didn’t make you wait any longer, his dear love. With a practiced ease, he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he guided himself to your entrance. The tip of his cock brushed against your swollen folds, and you could feel the heat of him, the way his length stretched you as he slowly pushed inside.

The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you completely making you gasp for air. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to anchor yourself in the whirlwind of pleasure that threatened to consume you.

Kento moved with deliberate, measured thrusts, each one sending a wave of ecstasy through your body that made your vision blur. He was gentle but firm, his pace steady as he worked to bring you both to the peak of pleasure. You could feel every inch of him inside you, the way he stretched you, filled you, in a way that made you feel utterly complete.

Your moans filled the room, each one growing louder as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with a growing urgency. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound almost drowned out by the symphony of your lovemaking. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, the familiar pressure building as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Kento, I’m… I’m so close, babeeeeee!” you breathed out, your voice trembling with anticipation. You were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of a powerful release that you could feel building inside you like a storm.

“Let go, love.” he whispered against your ear, his voice rough with desire. “I’ve got you. Let go for me.”

His words were all you needed. With a final, powerful thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body shattering into a million pieces as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last.

Kento followed you into bliss, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release overtaking him. You could feel the warmth of him spilling into you, the way his body trembled against yours as he groaned your name, his voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, the world stood still. All you could feel was him, all you could hear was the sound of your racing hearts and the ragged breaths you both struggled to catch. He stayed inside you, his body pressed against yours as you both came down from the high, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you.

Slowly, he pulled out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness that was quickly replaced by the warmth of his arms wrapping around you. He pulled you close, holding you against his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, love.” he whispered, his voice soft and full of sincerity. “So much.”

“I love you too, babe.” you murmured back, your voice barely above a whisper. Your body was spent, completely exhausted from the intensity of your lovemaking, but you felt content, safe, and utterly cherished in his arms.

As you lay there together, his arms tighten around you as if he never wanted to let you go. And in that moment, with the warmth of his body against yours and the sound of the waves crashing outside, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be—right here, in his arms, for as long as you both lived.

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epilogue

Later that evening, after the intensity of your earlier moments had faded into a comfortable, blissful haze, you found yourself curled up against Kento’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. You sighed, almost as though you were the most content in your entire life.

He’d already made sure to take care of you and clean you up, even making you some tea so that you could relax on your shared bed. And you love him for it. He always spoils you to no end. The sound of the waves outside your window was a soothing backdrop, lulling you into a state of utter contentment. 

As you lay there, a thought popped into your mind, one that made you grin mischievously. You tilted your head up to look at him, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on his chest.

“Kento, babe.” you began, your tone teasing, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Hm?” He glanced down at you, his expression warm and relaxed, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

You bit your lip to keep from grinning as you prepared to drop your bombshell. “You know how I’m always worried about you being a sorcerer and putting yourself in danger?”

He nodded, clearly not seeing where you were going with this. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a few times.”

“Well, babe.” you continued, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’ve come up with the perfect solution to that problem.”

“And what’s that?” Kento asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think you should quit being a sorcerer and become my house–husband instead.” you announced with a grin.

There was a moment of silence as Kento processed what you’d just said. His usually stoic expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to determine whether or not you were serious. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and it only made it harder for you to hold back your laughter. He looked cute, when he's thinking, you like to believe.

“A… house–husband?” he repeated slowly, as if testing the word out on his tongue.

“Yes! A house–husband, babe.” you confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “You’d be amazing at it! You could cook, clean, and take care of everything at home while I go to work. And you’d never have to worry about exorcisms or curses or any of that dangerous stuff ever again.”

Kento blinked at you, his mouth opening as if to say something, then closing again as he reconsidered. Finally, a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “And what would I do all day at your house–husband?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d find plenty to do, babe.” you replied, barely able to keep a straight face. “You could perfect your cooking skills, learn how to fold the perfect fitted sheet, maybe even take up knitting! Plus, you’d have plenty of time to dote on me when I come home from work. Maybe even meet the old ladies at the corner store! They really like zumba, just as much as you do.”

At that, Kento let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Knitting, huh? I didn’t realize that was part of the job description.”

“Well, it’s optional.” you conceded with a giggle. “But I think you’d be really good at it.”

Kento shook his head, clearly amused by your antics. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious.” you replied, though the twinkle in your eyes betrayed your true intentions. “I mean, think about it. No more dangerous missions, no more fighting curses. Just a quiet, peaceful life at home with me. Grow old together and me spoiling my husband with bringing in the dough and you spoiling me with all your love. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He considered it for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “It does sound nice.” he admitted, his tone still teasing. “But I’m not sure how I’d feel about giving up my job to become a… house–husband.”

“Oh, come on.” you coaxed, poking him playfully in the ribs. “You’d love it. And I’d love coming home to you every day. Plus, you’d look really cute in an apron.”

That finally did it. Your husband Kento burst out laughing, the sound rich and warm as it filled the room. You couldn’t help but join in, your own laughter mingling with his as you both imagined the ridiculousness of the idea. But you suppose the ridiculousness of it is what made it so touching. Life is always strange anyway, you think. And he knows that too. 

When the laughter finally subsided, Kento leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate the thought.” he said, his voice full of affection. “But for now,  I think I’ll stick to being a sorcerer for now. Though I have to admit, the idea of being your house–husband is tempting.”

“Tempting enough to reconsider?” you asked with a grin, though you knew his answer.

“Not quite, love.” he replied, chuckling. “But I’ll keep it in mind as a backup plan.”

“Deal.” you agreed, snuggling closer to him. “But just so you know, I’m not giving up on the idea entirely. You’d make an excellent house–husband. Mine only, of course.”

Kento smiled down at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “And you’d make an excellent lawyer who brings home the bacon.”

“Then it’s settled.” you said, laughing. “We’ll just have to make sure you stay safe so I don’t have to resort to plan B.”

“With you by my side, love?  I have no doubt I will.” he murmured, kissing you softly as you both settled back into the peaceful, contented silence of the evening.

[sleepyjuice]

protective jj protextiive jj protecitice jj ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

yup yup yup say no more ‼️

one thing about jj is that when he loved someone, he was also fully committed to protecting them at all costs. his circle was small, so when he cared about someone, he would do everything in his power to keep them safe.

but with you, he fully knew he would die before letting anything happen to you. and it sure was a task having a beautiful girlfriend, because to strangers eyes, you were just a pretty face and a pretty body, and that was just a blessing and a curse to jj.

keggers always brought out the creeps, and jj’s blood pressure was always just a bit high every time the two of you went. he would still enjoy himself, but he didn’t miss the way guys would stare at you, eyeing your body as if you were just anyones to have. you weren’t naive about it, you knew people stared, but as long as no one tried to touch you or talk to you, you didn’t let it bother you.

but of course, you didn’t live in a perfect world so trouble was bound to find you every now and then. you had a few drinks and you were feeling good. you had spent the day with jj and this was a great way to end the night together.

“yo jj, I can’t get this keg to tap, can you help me real quick?” john b approached you and jj, gently squeezing the blonde boy’s shoulder.

“yeah I got you,” jj answered, turning to you once he spoke, “c’mon, let’s go baby.” he nudged your waist, nodding towards the direction of where john b had ventured back off to.

you shook your head, “nah it’s okay, kie’s gonna be here any minute and I told her I would wait for her here. you go, I’ll be okay.” you assured him with a smile, not missing the hesitation clear on his face. he didn’t want to leave you alone, but he also didn’t want to make you feel like you couldn’t be independent and handle yourself alone for a minute.

he inhaled sharply before responding, “alright, alright, yeah. I’ll be right back.” he told you, giving you a quick kiss before going off to help john b. you took another sip from your cup, pulling out your phone to check if kiara had texted you.

“no way a pretty girl like you is here by herself.” a man’s voice startled you as you looked up from your phone, a touron, presumably had wasted no time invading your space as soon as you were alone, great.

“yeah, no, I’m not. but I’m not interested. so thanks but no thanks.” you told the man, looking back at your phone, hoping that for once, a man could have the ability to read the room.

“jesus, entitled aren’t you? can’t even let me say more than one sentence to you before being a bitch?” the man snapped, his ego obviously bruised. you did feel a little nervous now, uncomfortable with how quick his demeanor had shifted. instead of responding, you turned to walk away but were stopped when his hand grabbed your shoulder harshly, yanking you around to face him again.

he had opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by a fist to his jaw, and you jumped back in surprise at the sudden violence unfolding before you. you weren’t shocked to see that it was jj who had punched him and you set your cup down as jj kept going at him, reaching from behind your boyfriend to grab onto the fabric of his tank top, trying to pull him off of the guy.

“you think you can just touch girls, bro? when her back is turned to you?” he spat, tensing when he felt someone touch his shirt, glancing back for a moment to see that it was you.

“jj stop, stop, it’s not worth it, please.” you pleaded with him to stop, grateful that he had stepped in to help, but it wasn’t worth him getting potentially hurt over or in trouble.

“you’re a fragile ass bitch, dude. fuckin- apologize to my girl and then fuck off. I’m so serious right now.” jj eventually stopped his punches, but kept a grip on the guys shirt as he forced him to face you. he was indeed a bitch, because he barely muttered out a little ‘I’m sorry’ before stumbling back and hurrying away from the two of you.

“jesus, I leave ya alone for not even two minutes and these douchebags think they can try some shit,” jj rubbed at his now bleeding knuckles before pulling you into his chest, his hands rubbing at your sides, “you okay, pretty girl? you’re not hurt are ya?” you shook your head in response, relaxing into his touch. you hated when he had to resort to violence, but you did understand it in this situation. you were just proud of him for not losing control this time.

“I’m okay, thank you for saving me. that was lowkey hot as fuck.”

(not me getting carried away ummmm oops thank you anon <3)

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

So this is a weird ask but I figured an Actual Welsh Person would be the person to go to, and you've been pretty gung-ho about the language thing. So I hope I'm not bothering you with this.

Is there a cultural consensus on foreigners learning Welsh? I'm American and I don't have a single shred of Welsh ancestry. My family is historically German, and we've been here since the English Colony days, so it honestly seems really weird even to try to claim some tie to German heritage.

Anyway, my point is, I have absolutely zero legitimate claim to the Welsh language. I don't plan to travel to Wales in the foreseeable future. I have no reason to learn Welsh except that it sounds pretty and I enjoy a challenge.

Putting aside the issue of "lmao it's gonna be stupid difficult to learn an endangered language if you don't have anyone to speak it with" (I have a loose plan for dealing with that, and the experience of learning two languages to "can read most novels without needing the dictionary" level without anyone to speak them with in person already) entirely, do you reckon it's okay for me to study Welsh? I know Americans are really, really bad about just kinda assuming the whole world belongs to us, and I'm trying not to do that here. Especially because Welsh IS endangered.

I imagine your average Welsh person probably doesn't care what some random American does. But like, for people who care about the language...Would it be considered disrespectful or overstepping for me to study it? I don't expect you to speak for the entire country, of course, but I respect your opinion and I feel like you'd have a grasp on what the general feeling towards a foreigner like me might be.

Thanks for your time.

I honestly, truly, do not understand how the discussion around cultural appropriation has been twisted in the cultural zeitgeist to such an extent that people now feel anxiety about learning other languages.

This is not a personal attack on you, Anon - the gods only know that you clearly care and want to do the right thing, and that's beautiful and wonderful and also I will come back to extolling your personal virtues at the end of this post, so stay tuned. But I do want to take a moment here to talk about the broader issue at play, which I have seen echoed multiple times elsewhere, because fuck me what are we doing to ourselves.

Learn. Languages.

That is what languages are for! To be used for communication. If you don't learn languages, you are forcing everyone else to use yours. How have we somehow, as a culture, twisted that into being the less selfish option? How have we done that? I posted my favourite Welsh idiom recently, and someone reblogged it and wrote in the tags that they loved the idiom and would start using it, but they would do so in English because their "Welsh pronunciation would make their Welsh grandmother spin in her grave."

What kind of mental gymnastics is that?

How the fuck do you twist it so badly that you think taking a Welsh idiom for your own and exclusively using it in English is less offensive than saying it in Welsh but maybe a bit wrong? I've literally had people proclaim to me that they're learning Welsh on Duolingo but they never speak it because they're too self-conscious, and they tell me this not to highlight a massive flaw in themselves that they need to work on, but as though I'm supposed to pat them on the head and thank them for... still making me speak English to them.

There was that post where a Deaf blogger received an anonymous ask saying learning sign language is cultural appropriation, as though Deaf people haven't been calling for Sign to be taught in schools. As though a Deaf person being entirely isolated in everyday hearing society unless they have an interpreter with them is less offensive than a hearing person being able to use BSL.

Like, these are not sacred or religious languages. The purpose of Welsh or BSL or what have you is not to perform the Eleusinian mysteries. It's a living everyday language, same as English -

Except it's not the same as English. As Anon here so rightly points out, Welsh is endangered. That means we are desperate for people to learn it. That's how it will survive. That's how we reversed it from 'dying language' to 'living language', in fact - we managed to get lots of people to learn it. You know what is a threat, though? People not learning it because, like poor Anon here, they've been somehow convinced by Western society that you're only allowed to learn languages if you personally have a historic or cultural connection to them that you can prove via six forms of ID and a letter of recommendation from a druid. Or people never using it because they're too embarrassed to try and risk losing face by getting it wrong, or maybe sounding a bit silly, and thus forcing us to use English anyway. Those are threats.

Anon. Listen to me, feel the sincerity of my words: we adore you. We adore you. You cannot imagine how appreciated it is when someone learns Welsh. You cannot imagine how touched we are that you wanted to, that you tried, that you respected us enough and considered us valid enough that you made the effort. Our closest neighbours are the very people who are still trying to stamp out Welsh to this very day. Do you know the number 1 reaction I get, by a country mile, when I tell English people that I speak Welsh? It's some variant on a scoff, and the sentiment "Why? What's the point? Bit useless, isn't it?"

By a country mile. That's the reaction I expect, and brace for, and is overwhelmingly what I get.

So when someone who isn't Welsh actually chooses to learn Welsh?

Imagine what that feels like! To go from not-even-hidden disgust, from outright mockery and often active suppression campaigns, to a foreigner earnestly telling me that they love and respect my language so much they're trying to learn it. Imagine how that feels.

Please learn Welsh. Please learn it. We will love you for it. We will build you a statue. We will bake little Welshcakes with your face on in icing sugar. We will write you poems in complex rhyme. We'll name an Eisteddfod prize after you. We'll name at least, like, three sheep after you. Thank you, thank you so much for even wanting to learn. You're a delight and a marvel and a wonder. Your hair looks great today, as it does all days. You're a strong, independent human being of immense wisdom and compassion. If this were a Welsh myth you'd be a wise salmon the heroes came to for advice. What a fantastic human.

The welcome awaits if you choose to learn

[ashwhowrites]

An idea that popped in my head before bed. I hope you guys enjoy it! Been a bit since I've written my own Robin idea so I hope it's worth the read 🫶🏻🩷

Robin writes a love note for Vickie but accidentally puts it in Readers locker

Wrong locker

Robin has been trying to figure out the best way to confess her feelings to Vickie. Robin figured since she couldn't even speak a word to the pretty redhead in general, writing down her feelings would be best. But Robin didn't want to sound like a crazy stalker so she settled for a simple love note.

Robin took a deep breath as she walked to Vickie's locker, she slipped the pink paper in the small cracks. She held her breath as the note dropped in. The sound of the bell had her racing to the other side of the hallway. She tried to look busy but kept her eye on the locker.

She smiled as Vickie walked up, but her stomach dropped when she noticed Vickie was opening the locker next to the one with the note. Robin panicked, whose locker was the note in?

Fear filled Robin's bones as Y/N walked up. The girl's atmosphere was terrifying. Her leather jacket smelled of cigarettes and perfume. Her healed black boots echoed down the halls. Her tight jeans framed her body along with her tight band T-shirt. She was intimating, and she liked to be. Her sharp eyes glared at anyone who looked at her. A snarl on her lips if anyone bothered to talk near her.

Robin felt like she wanted to die when Y/N opened her locker, the pink note falling to Y/N's feet. Robin prayed she wouldn't pick it up, maybe stomp on it and move on.

But no, Y/N picked up the note. Robin was stuck in her spot, she needed to run but she couldn't move.

Y/N tried to keep the smile off her face. No one has seen her smile and that wasn't going to change. But she couldn't help but feel her heart flutter at the sweet note. She knew she was intimidating and scared people off. But she's never had someone see her in such a romantic way.

She knew of Robin Buckley, the cute bandgirl. Y/N played on the volleyball team and the band always played at their games. Was Robin watching her the whole time?

Y/N put the note in her pocket, closing her locker. She turned around to walk to class when she spotted Robin staring. Once they made eye contact, Robin looked down at her shoes.

Please don't walk up to me

Please please please

"Hey Buckley," Y/N's voice ran shivers up Robin's spine. She gulped and looked up. Y/N stood in front of her, her confident frame stood tall.

"I'm sorry! The note was-" Robin went to explain what happened but Y/N cut her off.

"The note was very sweet. Thank you, it made my day. I'll call you." Y/N said, a smirk on her face as she took in Robin's nervous frame.

Robin didn't dare to breath until Y/N strutted off.

~~~

"And turns out it was the wrong locker!" Robin explained, her voice wavering between pitches. Her nervous hands were shaking as she told the story to Steve.

Steve nodded along with his arms crossed. Robin tended to talk throughout their shifts and not do any work. So Steve picked up the slack. But the place was dead so gossip time took full attention.

"Whose did it end up in?" Steve asked, he uncrossed his arms as he reached to grab his drink.

"Y/N."

Steve's eyes went wide and his water flew out of his mouth. Steve was a grade above Y/N throughout high school, and even he was terrified of her. He prayed he'd never run into her after graduation. Her sneer and hard eyes kept him up at night. He still has nightmares about the day he ran into her, his hot coffee staining her shirt. Steve could almost feel the bruises on his cheek forming again.

"You're fucked!" Steve said.

"Dingus! Don't you think I know that? She said she was going to call me! What the hell do I do?" Robin panicked.

"Maybe she won't call you! Let's not stress about anything yet." Steve said

~~~

Robin sighed in relief when she crawled into bed, not a single phone call from Y/N. Maybe Y/N just wanted to make Robin nervous and never planned to do anything about the note.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Robin gulped as she picked up the phone, she hoped more than anything that Steve was calling about his lame date.

"Sorry, gorgeous. Volleyball went very late." Y/N's voice traveled through the phone, and it still made Robin nervous.

"It's okay." Robin gulped, her fingers playing with the telephone cord.

"I know this place downtown, maybe Friday night after the game, we can go?"

Robin tried to say no, all she had to do was explain the mix-up. But she was scared of Y/N's reaction. One date couldn't hurt, maybe Y/N would realize how boring Robin was and wouldn't be interested.

~~~

Robin packed up her instrument, talking with Vickie about the game. Robin tried her best to keep the conversation going.

"Ready gorgeous?" Y/N asked. Robin couldn't help but blush at the nickname being said to her face. Y/N was sweaty and panting from the game, and Robin couldn't help but find it hot.

"Yeah just gotta pack up." Robin rushed out, her eyes meeting Y/N's for one quick second.

"Okay. I'm going to change then I'll meet you in the parking lot?" Y/N suggested. Robin nodded and felt the air return to her lungs when she walked away.

"What's going on?" Vickie asked, she didn't bother to hide how shocked she was.

"She kinda asked me out." Robin shrugged.

"Oh, cool," Vickie said, but Robin couldn't help but notice how displeased Vickie looked about the news. Was she jealous?

~~~

Robin tried not to stare at Y/N as they walked into the bar, but Y/N looked hot in her tight black jeans, tank top, and signature leather jacket. Robin tried to ignore how sweaty her palms were.

Robin was confused about why they'd go to a bar when they weren't of age, but Y/N knew the bartender it seemed. Y/N walked to the back booth, near a pool table.

Y/N had a beer and Robin had an iced tea. Y/N made good conversation and Robin was surprised by the things they had in common. Robin found herself enjoying Y/N's presence.

A few hours passed and Robin swung her feet as Y/N played pool. Robin didn't know how to play and she did not want to look like an idiot in front of Y/N.

"Come here and just try!" Y/N encouraged, she's been trying to get Robin to play for the last hour. But Robin kept shaking her head.

Y/N gave up on convincing Robin, instead, she'd make Robin do it.

Robin gulped as Y/N grabbed her hand and lifted her off the stool.

"No, I'm not any good!" Robin tried but Y/N shushed her. Y/N placed the stick in Robin's hand, stood behind her, and corrected her form. Robin couldn't help but feel slightly turned on as Y/N's body was pressed against her back. The feeling of Y/N's breath against her ear, and Y/N's arms wrapped around her, made Robin feel fuzzy.

Robin took a deep breath, letting Y/N guide her to hit the small white ball. Robin watched as the stick hit the ball, it rolled and rolled until it smacked into a red ball, disappearing into the corner.

"You did it!" Y/N cheered, Robin couldn't help but get lost in her dazzling smile. At that moment Y/N didn't seem so scary and intimidating. She looked beautiful and happy.

~~~

A few weeks passed and Robin cursed herself for leading Y/N on. Robin couldn't help but be swept up in all the dates and how special Y/N made her feel. It made Robin wonder why she never looked at Y/N in the first place.

But Robin was tugged between Vickie as well. The girl the note was made for. It seemed Vickie was jealous of all the dates between Robin and Y/N. Robin remembered the hard look in Vickie's eyes when she showed up in Y/N's jacket.

"Are you cold?" Y/N asked, her hand laced with Robin's as they walked through the carnival. Robin wore a thin long sleeve, not expecting the wind to be chilly.

"No, I'm fine!" Robin argued, but the shivering of her teeth and tight shoulders gave her up.

Y/N smiled and took off her jacket, placing the warm leather over Robin's shoulders. Immediately lacing their hands together again.

A jacket Robin still hasn't given back. She wore it every day to school. To make Vickie jealous? Or to have pride she got Y/N to go soft? She wasn't sure.

She felt torn between both girls.

~~~

"Do you like her?" Steve asked, he felt bad for the situation Robin got herself in.

"I think so? But I don't know if I like her because she makes Vickie jealous." Robin explained. She was stuck in her personal hell.

"Well if Vickie's jealous, it means she has feelings for you. So you have your answer. Vickie is interested and single. Do you want to go after her? Or stay with Y/N?"

"I think I want Vickie. I mean the note was meant for her but I'm afraid if Y/N finds out the note was for Vickie, she'll snap me in half " Or maybe she was worried it would snap Y/N in half.

~~~

Robin sat across Y/N as she sipped on a milkshake. Robin's stomach hurt too much to enjoy the sweetness.

"Are you okay? You look like you might be sick." Y/N said, her milkshake pushed to the side as she reached across for Robin's hand. Robin gulped as Y/N's soft thumb rubbed her skin.

Just say it, Robin repeated in her head. She needed to tell the truth before Y/N truly fell for Robin.

"I need to tell you something," Robin said, her free hand gripping the leather jacket by her lap. Y/N encouraged her with a small smile.

"Remember the note?"

"Of course I do." Y/N smiled

"I put it in the wrong locker," Robin said quickly, wincing as the words finally were put into the air.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, her head turned as she tried to understand.

"I wrote the note for Vickie and I was scared to tell you. " Robin looked up to catch Y/N's reaction. The smile turned upside down as a frown covered its place. Robin has never seen so much emotion on Y/N's face. And just like she feared, the terrifying hard mask appeared on Y/N's face.

Robin tried not to flinch as Y/N removed her hand and moved it quickly into her lap. Robin's palm smacked the table. As always, Robin ran her mouth until she made it worse.

"And I just didn't want to hurt you! And I was a little scared you'd break me in half. So I went along with the date, not expecting you'd like me! Because like I'm me and I'm so boring compared to you. I figured you'd see dating me was blah and wouldn't be interested. But then you asked for more dates and I was-"

"Scared to say no, yeah got it." Y/N barked. She was an idiot to believe someone saw her as something else than a scary monster that lurked in the halls. All this time, she thought Robin saw something in her, something worth liking and learning to love. But no, Robin was scared just like everyone else.

Y/N refused to let how upset she was shown on her face. She shook it off and grabbed her wallet. She slammed down some bills on the table, the harsh air hitting Robin's hand, she flinched again.

Robin was scared to look up as Y/N stood up. She was too scared to see the look on Y/N's face.

"Look at me," Y/N growled, Robin swallowed nervously and looked up. But there was a softness in Y/N's eyes.

"You're not boring, and you're not blah. You're funny, fun, and beautiful. Don't think so low of yourself. Next time, make sure the note goes in the right locker. I'll see you around Buckley."

Robin didn't know what to say. Y/N walked off, leaving her jacket with Robin.

~~~

Robin barely slept that night. She felt so guilty, and not all relieved. She thought telling Y/N would take the weight off her shoulders, but it was the opposite. The weight on her shoulders now crushed down on her chest.

Y/N's jacket thrown over Robin's desk chair was a painful reminder she had to see Y/N again.

The next morning, Robin held the jacket in her arms as she walked up to Y/N's locker.

"Um hey," Robin said quietly, Y/N and Vickie looked up at the sound of her voice. Robin shrunk under the gaze of both girls.

Y/N figured she was talking to Vickie so she turned back around to her locker.

Robin couldn't help but feel like she was slapped in the face as Y/N ignored her completely.

"I have your jacket." She said, tapping Y/N's shoulder. Y/N turned around, grabbed the jacket, and slipped it back on her body. In a way Robin felt a weird feeling of pride. She knew it was Y/N's jacket in the first place, but Robin wore it for weeks to where it almost felt like hers. It felt like Y/N was wearing Robin's jacket.

"Thanks," Y/N muttered the locker behind her slammed shut as she quickly walked off. Y/N couldn't watch Robin and Vickie talk about their feelings.

"Yikes, she's back to cold." Vickie observed.

"Yeah I kinda broke things off," Robin explained, a feeling in her stomach as Vickie tried to fight off a smile.

"Oh that's too bad!" Vickie said, but Robin could hear the excitement in her voice. "What happened?"

"I wrote this note to ask you out and I accidentally put it in her locker. I've been too scared to tell her but I finally did. And I think she hates me." Robin said, looking over her shoulder but Y/N was long gone.

"Ask me out?" Vickie asked, a smile on her face.

"Yeah," Robin said with a smile. Her face warmed when Vickie reached forward to lace their hands together. Robin couldn't help but notice Vickie's grip wasn't as tight and safe as Y/N's. Robin didn't feel like she was protected like the way she did in Y/N's hands.

"I'd love to!" Vickie cheered, both girls sharing a bright smile.

But Robin couldn't help but feel an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

~~~

It didn't take long for Robin and Vickie to officially be together. Steve was proud of Robin for finally making a choice, but even he couldn't help but feel like it was the wrong one.

Robin spent every minute with Vickie, searching for the fluttering in her stomach that she had with Y/N. Robin thought it was fear but maybe it was excitement.

Robin tried to fight off the frown on her face when Y/N passed her in the halls. No more warm smile sent her way. Just a hard look, the same look she gave everyone else.

Was Vickie the right choice?

[kusakiguzen]

Yandere One Piece x Reader

A/N: just fic that i wrote when i was board! Hope you enjoy reading it as much i enjoyed writing it.

Imagine the Straw Hats being annoyed with Cultivator Reader who gets sea sick alot but was also clingy. Almost always in choppers office during storms or when there are big waves. Chewing on Lemon Grass, Cloves or just licking some salt to help with it since you don't want to bother chopper much.

It had gotten worse ever since you entered the new world, The unpredictable weather makes you feel worried that you hold the crew back. The crew on the other hand were very understanding at first but soon they started to get annoyed, even Sanji and Chopper. You felt so bad about it that you always had a clove in your mouth so even if the weather changes it won't affect you that much.

But one day... You over heard them saying how you shouldn't have joined the crew if you get so sea sick since, pirates literally travel through the sea on top of that you never leave anyone alone! Always stay with someone, stuck to them. To sum it up... they didn't want you here....

You immediately ran to the crows nest and cried for a good hour. You had never felt so humiliated in your life!! Your familiars came out to comfort you and you fell asleep on them.

Zoro was asked to fetch you, He went to your room where you'd usually be, but he was met with emptiness. H serched the whole ship annoyed but finally found you in the nest sleeping comfortably. He was kinda annoyed since he was shouting for you but you gave no response, since you were sleeping, its fine.

They were going to get off on the next island to restock on supplies. You joined them but to your horror it looked like you home town.... Your home town was destroyed because Marines deemed it dangerous. So how come this town looks so much alike? You immediately got off and excused yourself, the straw hats thought you felt sick hence went to find a restroom or a secluded area to vomit, But no... You were trying to find a familiar face, any face. Since all cultivators lived in harmony, and it was a small island, you knew almost every one.

You entered the closest weapon shop and to your surprise, found the old man who used to work there, when you were in the village. You called out to him and his eyes widened. He ran and hugged you crying saying how everyone thought you were dead. You started crying saying how you thought everyone was dead, since you went back to the village and it was completely destroyed.

He told you that they escaped by faking all their deaths, so that tragedy won't happen again. You were so glad to find them. The old man ran out the shop to tell everyone you were back and alive. They all started hugging you while crying, saying how glad they were. This commotion was seen by Robin and Brook who were confused as to why these people were coddling you so much.

You told the villagers how you were saved by the Straw hats and you joined their crew. The village called for celebration to thank the Straw hats, who were surprises to find out this was your home.

Then you met him again, your childhood sweet heart, Lóng Fēi. How long had it been? you can't remember. You just ran in his arms, falling in the process. Shoving your head in his shoulder, soft sobs escaping your lips. Fēi Immediately picked you up like a baby and took you to the forest since he knows you hate being seen weak. When in the woods, he plopped you on his lap, holding you close, kissing your tears away. After you calmed down, He picked you up again and you guys went on a walk around the forest, catching up about life. Out of nowhere , Fēi asked if you would mind if he joined the crew with you. You immediately said you don't mind and he should join since Fēi was strong.

Luffy agreed without hesitation, since more the merier right....? Wrong, your atittude towards the crew changed. You no longer cuddle with Zoro while he naps, you no longer sit behind Sanji while he cooks, you no longer stay with Nami and try to read her maps in secrete, you no longer read with Robin, you no longer play or sing with Brook, no longer help Frankie, you stopped going to Chopper to talk about medicine from your home. Finally, You never again asked Luffy to sit with you on the head of the sunny. All the thing you used to do with the Straw hats, Now yo do with Fēi, Everything. it was like you changed into a completely different person.

They Straw hats were relived that you left them alone, but soon realised you weren't paying attention to them at all. They tried asking you to do stuff with them but you politely turned them down saying you don't want to bother them. Your blunt favoritism hurt them. Do you not like them anymore? Is it something they did? (kinda)

Soon they started to lose it, draging you with the to spend time like you used to but Fēi still tagged along. Can't he see?? He is not wanted!!!

If this continued they just might kill Fēi. Or Fēi would kill them. I mean if there was an accident that killed them but you and Fēi survived, no one would be suspicious....... Right?

Well lets see who survives then?

A/N: A small imagine that was on top of my head. I have another one piece fic in my mind which i'll write.

Stay Safe, Healthy And Hydrated

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #01

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k+

𝐚/𝐧: this bombass comeback wouldn't be as amazing and special if it weren't for @kithtaehyung who made the best new mh banner anyone could ever make!!! ryen, thank you bub so much for putting up with my indecisive ass and taking the time to make not only this banner but different versions before that! I truly appreciate it and I'm thankful you're a part of this!!

ogs know this one is reposted but I hope everyone will enjoy it whether they're rereading it or reading for the first time! lastly, thank you for the endless love and support, i love y'all ♡

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

The hallway looks exactly the same, which there isn't any reason why it should look different all of a sudden, but considering you haven't been in this building for the past few weeks just makes you want to notice the slightest change. But there is none. It still smells sterile with a little bit of sweetness which reminds you of cinnamon. You're not sure why, nor do you really dwell on it too much.

You could imagine your Thursday evening differently, which means laying down as soon as you come home and turn on Netflix, trying to spend at least twenty minutes finding a good show. That's been your routine for weeks now, but you're not complaining. It feels that void of loneliness in your smart one bedroom apartment.

Although, you can't help but feel nervous when you picture the message you got from Jimin.

'come to Jungkook's, he needs us' 

He never explained anything further, nor replied to the tons of your messages or missed calls. You wouldn't be on the edge, if you've seen or heard from Jungkook. Apart from some occasional messages like 'what's up' or 'what were you doing today?', your communication went downhill. But you don't blame him or yourself for it. You were both busy and probably still are, to even hangout like you always used to.

It bothered you for some time, not hanging out with your best friend like you used to. But you've grown used to that small but painful fact that you don't have to see each other every day. Plus, after some time you've realized, you can still be best friends with someone without having to chat with them 24/7. Gratefulness is how you'd describe your feelings. Grateful that your friendship works, even though you don't get to spend your time with each other that often.

Your knuckles meet the wood of Jungkook's front door in a gentle manner, which is a complete opposite of your inside feelings as you've this weird feeling inside of you. The message Jimin sent you was weird and you haven't heard from anyone since then.

And when the door finally opens, you're glad you're met with Jimin himself as he stares at you with hopeful eyes and a breath of relief that escapes his plush lips. You rush inside, already taking off your shoes and jacket while you confusingly stare at your friend that looks more than relieved to see you.

"What the hell happened? You never texted me back." you tell him, or more like scold him rather than properly greet him.

"Ah, sorry," he cringes, pulling out his phone before he notices the bunch of messages and missed calls from you. "It's just—"

"This is bullshit."

The grumpy and raspy voice unintentionally cuts him off, booming inside of the apartment causing your ears to naturally perk up. Is it just you or his voice got deeper? You look at Jimin with a questioning gaze, who sees the confusion on your features as you hear Jungkook's grumpy and annoyed voice. Rather than explaining something to you, he sighs and with a quick cock of his head towards the living room, you both walk inside.

You're surprised when you see Taehyung there as well, opening a beer can before he pushes it into Jungkook's hands. Surprisingly, the mentioned guy is slouched on his beige couch, wearing one of his baggy shirts and loose sweatpants with his hair looking like he hasn't brushed them for days.

Taehyung's eyes meet yours as soon as you step in, noticing the mess around including two pizza boxes thrown on the floor and empty cans of coke and beer on the coffee table. "Oh, thank god!" Taehyung breathes out the same sigh of relief, causing you to greet him with a confused 'hello'.

Although, you don't wait for any reaction because your best friend finally acknowledges your presence in his home, head lazily turning in your direction as you walk up to him.

"Great," he mutters, almost rolling eyes at the sight of you. "Who called her?" he eyes the two of his best friends, scoffing before he takes a gulp of the beer that Taehyung handed him.

"What kind of reaction is that, asshole?" you react right away, frowning at your best friend that hasn't seen you for weeks and this is his first reaction.

"Don't mind him, please. He's just a little bit drunk right now." Jimin quickly jumps into an action, noticing your fireback and unappreciative tone that's aimed at none other than Jungkook himself.

He rolls his eyes at Jimin words, but doesn't say anything else before Taehyung watches you with cautious doe eyes. He sits in a chair, arm leaned against his knee as he anxiously bites his nails even though he tries to act casual. You don't buy it.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask them, pointing towards Jungkook that looks like a truck just hit him.

Jimin opens his mouth, but Jungkook glares at him which ends up with him shutting it right away and when you look at Taehyung, he doesn't even spare you a glance.

"Which one of you called her?" Jungkook speaks up, eyeing the two of his friends as they point to each other causing you to snort. Cowards. "I'm fine. I don't see a reason why you make such a big deal out of this. I'm fine."

The fact that he had to repeat the same sentence twice, just proves that no — he's not fine. And before the wheels in your head start to work and roll, Jimin's voice speaks up in a clear, yet quick tempo.

"Kiko broke up with Jungkook."

The room goes silent, faint sounds coming out of the television are filling out the thick silence in the room as Jungkook freezes, not even glaring at his friend that apologetically shrugs at him.

One of the reasons why you haven't got to see your best friend that often is, that he simply found a girlfriend. Trying to combine his work, personal love life and you was already hard. But you get it. You're not mad or annoyed at him, because the two of you still kept in touch. It was just a matter of time until some of you found someone and naturally, there wouldn't be that much time to spend your days together. It was bound to happen and you knew Jungkook would be the first one to find someone.

He's your best friend, but you're not blind. He's one of the most handsome guys you've ever met, not just that but his personality is something that most girls would fall for. His attitude is pissy right now and now, you know the true reason behind it. But the Jungkook you know, is one of the most caring people you know. And not only that, but he's funny, intelligent and perfect at almost everything. He's the whole package and any girl would be lucky to snatch him.

And that girl, or perhaps you should say a woman, happened to be Kiko. A Japanese beauty that their mutual friend introduced them to one another. It clicked off immediately. Even you've noticed it when Jungkook Rain checked almost every plan you had together. He started to stare into his phone with all those puppy heart eyes whenever she texted him. At first, you found it annoying because it was just plain rude, watching him text her every five seconds instead of trying to hang out with you. But then, you just stopped caring and whenever you went silent, he'd just pushed his phone away and tried to gain your attention.

It was stupid, because you knew if you gave him attitude or silent treatment, he would just feel bad and tried to focus on you. Until the both of you stopped hanging out with each other that much.

"She did?" you mutter, staring at Jungkook who stares in front of him with a wiped out gaze. You've never seen him in this kind of state. "I'm sorry, Kook."

"Yeah, well, shit happens." he grumbles, clenching his jaw as he takes another gulp of beer that's securely clenched in his hand.

You've seen Jungkook having a couple of girlfriends, but you know that his relationship with Kiko was different. He wasn't just any girlfriend that he tried to get to know, she was someone that he completely fell for and couldn't stop talking about. He's in love. And even though he's being an ass to his friends right now, it's just his coping mechanism and you know that whatever Jimin and Taehyung has been doing, hasn't helped much. He plays tough right now, hiding his true feelings under this cold and uninterested facade but you know him better.

And when he keeps glancing at you before he quickly looks away, it's almost as if he can hear your exact thoughts.

"Well," you hastily speak, clapping your hands together as you lightly smile at everyone in the room. "You don't wanna date anyone whose name is Kiko." you try to joke, a laugh and snort erupting from Jimin and Taehyung who has obviously found your little joke funny.

Jungkook on the other hand, looks even more pissed off because he never looked at you with so much anger and annoyance as he's looking right now, causing you to squirm in your spot. "Real class, Y/N." he barks at you, causing you to slump in defeat before Jimin squeezes your shoulders in comfort.

"I brought you banana milk. I didn't know what happened, so I thought this would be a nice and quick save." you lightly tell him, sitting at the end of the couch, next to his sprawled legs but he doesn't move them away.

"Jeez, I'm not some fucking kid. Banana milk won't fix my broken heart." he scoffs, shaking his head while the three of you are even surprised that he just admitted that he has a broken heart. Well, clearly but since he's been putting up this tough act, it still comes as a shock. Judging by the look of Jimin's and Taehyung's face, they seem to think the same thing.

"I know that, Kook," you quietly tell him, hastily grabbing one of his ankles as you squeeze it in a manner to comfort him. He doesn't budge, that means something. "Is there anything we can do for you?" you ask him, not really sure if he's even going to answer that.

His brows furrow while he fumbles with his fingers, the slightest pout adoring his small lips as he thinks your question through. The three of you watch him with curious eyes, wondering what the hell is this guy thinking of. He looks at you, then at Jimin and Taehyung before he softly sighs.

"I mean... there's nothing you guys can do." he says softly, taking another gulp of beer that tastes like piss. Korean beer is just not good, and you're surprised that Jungkook even drinks it. But he never had any problem with any alcohol, that man can drink and eat anything.

There's nothing you can think of that could possibly help him out of his heartbreak. The only thing for you to do, is to be there for him. And if drinking a beer that tastes like piss is some kind of twisted way of helping him, you're in. So, you reach out and grab one of the unopened cans before you open it with a loud 'click', taking a gulp of it.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook sits up, staring at your scrunched nose and distaste written all over your face.

"Drinking with you." you shrug, taking another huge gulp of it. The more you drink it, the less it tastes awful.

"But you hate this beer." he reminds you, scowling at you and your nonstop gulping, hand twitching to get it away from you.

"I know," you shrug, grinning at him. "It doesn't taste that bad. Now come on," you nudge him with your leg, raising your can to him. "Cheers." you call out to him, ignoring his big doe eyes that stare at you with a slight confusion before he sighs.

"Cheers." he mutters, clicking his can against yours before the both of you take another gulp.

The two of you are completely unaware of your friends' faces that are washed with relief and knowing eyes as they stare at you and Jungkook. All it took was just to call you to save the day. Jungkook might not be in his greatest mood or show his appreciation for you to be there for him, but drinking without constant complaining and cursing is still a better result that Jimin and Taehyung managed to get.

"I've never thought I'd ever drink this much of this piss beer." you croak out, putting another empty can onto Jungkook's messy coffee table. You sit back, head falling onto his shoulder as you silently inhale his scent. It always reminded you of his fabric softener that smells like a baby, mixed with his cologne that is very faint on his clothes.

"How do you know what piss tastes like?" Jungkook asks, raising his brow at you while the corner of his lips twitches in amusement. "Do you wanna tell me about your weird kinks?" he cocks his head at you, causing you to groan as you hit his shoulder but it does nothing to him, he doesn't even budge.

A chuckle roars in the back of his throat, a first sound that can be considered as a positive emotion.

"It's not like that." you mutter, growing embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook thinking about your kinks. Not that you know about them that much. You might think there are some things you might like, but you never had anyone to try it with. How possibly could you know? But the idea of you having a piss kink, or whatever that's called, makes you want to gag. Maybe it's the beer or just a single thought of it, who knows.

Jimin and Taehyung already left, once they saw Jungkook loosening up, they took that chance to go home and leave the two of you alone. Not even once he talked about his heartbreak, you silently watched a TV show that Jungkook turned on whilst drinking a beer and munching on some crackers that Taehyung handed you before they left.

Glancing at Jungkook, his face is illuminated from the screen whilst he's watching a TV show with slightly furrowed brows. And when it finally stops, he sighs and grabs the remote to browse through some other movies and TV shows. He keeps browsing through them for a couple of minutes, muttering a pair of curses when he can't find anything he likes. You turn on the lamp in the very corner of his living room, causing him to frown even more from the sudden light.

You sit next to him, staring at him as he sighs and looks back at you. "What?" he asks unbothered, the remote still clutched in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Kook," you tell him silently, reaching for his shoulder which you squeeze in comfort, like you previously did with his ankle. "I know that you loved her."

And you see his facade crack, when he sucks his bottom lip as he quickly looks away from you to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. You've never seen him this vulnerable.

"Love," he mutters, causing you to let out a confused 'huh?' in response. "Not loved her, but love. I still love her." he corrects you.

"Why did she break up with you? You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable enough, but you guys seemed so close together."

It doesn't make any sense. Jungkook kept talking about her even through your messages, and you could practically feel the happiness radiating from his single messages. His whole Instagram is filled with their pictures, or just single shots of Kiko that Jungkook has taken and captioned with a single heart emoji. You've never seen him being so in love before. That's when you've realized that Kiko is different from any other women that Jungkook was seeing.

You don't push him into answering, the last thing you want for him is to get upset with you. But you can't keep walking around eggshells for this whole night.

"Apparently, she just wants some time for herself. She wants to explore other things, whatever the fuck that means." he bitterly chuckles, eyes filled with anger but you know it's just hidden hurt.

"Maybe you'll find someone else, Kook. You're still young."

Scoffing, he shakes his head. "She's the love of my life. I really doubt there's someone else for me. I was about to ask her to move in with me."

Shit, he's really serious about her.

"You did?"

He nods, biting onto his lower lip before he lets it go, fumbling his eyes before he sighs in defeat. "I love her." he whispers, his voice sounding so vulnerable that it makes your heart clench.

You go straight into hugging him, enveloping his huge body to yours as he starts to cry into your chest. For the first time, he finally breaks in front of someone else rather than himself. He clutches to your body, tears wetting your shirt but you don't mind it, grabbing him even tighter. He cries, something he doesn't usually do in front of everyone. You realize how he kept holding himself in front of Taehyung and Jimin when all he wanted was to cry it out.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay." you tell him, cheeks pressed against his hair that got super long since you've last seen him.

He sniffles, wiping his eyes before he slightly pulls away. "It happened two weeks ago and I'm still such a fucking mess." he scoffs at himself.

"Two weeks ago?" you exclaim, surprised by the new information. "It happened two weeks ago and I know just... now?"

He glares at you and you quickly shut your mouth. "Not everything is about you, Y/N." he reminds you.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to curse at him for being so rude but then you remember his state. He's just hurt and in a way, he's right. "No, that's not what I meant. I just... I'm surprised that you didn't tell me sooner. If it weren't for Jimin, I don't think I'd be here right now." you explain, thinking about all possibilities that could happen.

"I was going to," he mutters, reaching for a bottle of water instead as he takes a few gulps. "But I needed some time to myself. I didn't want anyone to see me like this." he points out towards his slightly puffed eyes.

You just wished he'd tell you sooner. But you don't tell him that. It's not selfish to think that, because you just wanted to be there for him sooner. Nobody should go through such a heartbreak alone. Not when he has you and other two friends willing to be there for him.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right? I'm always here for you." you remind him, flushed cheeks when you see his eyes already set on you.

The friendship between you and Jungkook is mostly surrounded with you teasing each other and in a way, he's like an older brother to you. You don't get all sentimental with each other, even though you're always there for one another. It's an unspoken rule and natural feeling that your friendship has.

"I know," he says softly, giving you the best little smile he can muster. "And I'm so grateful for that. I know I was acting like an asshole and I'm sorry, I just... I'm really happy that you're here."

You don't get to hear such words often, especially coming out of Jungkook's mouth, but that's why you're even more pleased to hear them.

You smile back at him, silently thanking him and also saying that it's okay and you get it. It's quiet for a moment. Jungkook fumbles with his fingers as you silently watch him, noticing a few new tattoos that decorate his honey skin.

"Y/N?" he asks suddenly, causing you to hum in return. " You know when you asked me, if there's something you could do for me?"

"Oh, boy. What is it this time?" you joke, causing him to silently chuckle under his breath.

What could he possibly want to know? The last time he wanted something from you, was to clean his whole apartment because he twisted his ankle. But whatever that comes out of his mouth next, never occurred to you before.

"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | don't forget to reblog ♡

[waterfallofspace]

A Little Game, A Lot Of Torture. 

The one in which G/ojo has been a bit of a (loveable) prick, so his friends decide to hold a little contest to see who can get him back the best. Contest rules? Whoever makes him sneeze the most in one attempt wins, you can’t get his help, you can only use one method. Let the games begin! (Do I have requests I should be working on instead? Yes. Was this idea haunting my every waking hour until I finally agreed to write it? Also yes. I promise I’ll get back to requests tomorrow &lt;;3) Takes a minute to get into heavy snz stuff, but hopefully it's still enjoyable! (credits to @snzdreams for the breathtaking headcanon that even talking about sneezing gets G/ojo going, and I hope it’s okay that I borrowed your genius to use in this <3 and doubly hope it's okay that I tagged you in it <33) Also I want to clarify: while they were all in the same class in highschool, this is set post-graduation, imagining a future where they all still hang out. (AU technically I guess haha~) Just making it clear, everyone in this story is meant to be an adult. Picture early 20’s. Characters: G/eto, S/hoko, and G/ojo. Plus a bit of S/atosugu Word Count: 4.1k (whoops-)

(References to swearing in case anyone doesn't like that!)

~~~~~~~

The rules were agreed upon the day before, Geto insisting that they needed to be clear.

Rule #1: You only get one attempt. If you fail, or he manages to avoid/subdue the attempt, it’s over. You don’t get a second try. If you get subpar results, same as before, no second tries. Amendment added by Shoko: number of sneezes only counts from the first couple minutes. If said attempt results in sneezing for the rest of the day, those are not to be counted.

Rule #2: Gojo is not to be informed of this, or asked for assistance of any kind. You cannot ask him for a list of what makes him most sneezy, you must use your knowledge of him to come up with your own methodology. 

And finally, Rule #3: You can only use one method. Said ‘method’ can include multiple inducing tools, so long as they’re considered one ‘attempt’. Ie. Multiple scented candles at once, or a bouquet of flowers are both considered one method. However, flowers and candles at the same time would be considered two. Amendment added by Geto: Helping him along with words doesn’t count as a method, and is therefore fair play. 

With those in place, Geto and Shoko got to work, each with an idea in mind. 

In order to not taint results the attempts will be held three days apart to give Gojo’s nose time to get back to baseline before the next attempt begins. Shoko is up first. Let the games begin! 

~~ Shoko’s Attempt ~~

‘I’m at a disadvantage. I know Gojo, he’s my friend, they both are, but I’ll never know him the way Geto does. He’ll always know more of Gojo’s quirks, especially since they’re so obviously in love. They both deny it, but the looks they share when they think no one can see tells a different story. If not dating, the feeling is at least mutual.’ 

Shoko pauses her musing, letting a smile take over as she waves to the boys, starting her approach with a hand in her bag. ‘Always together, even when I’m not around. I know they care for me, but the bond they share will always be one step deeper.’ Despite this, she has a plan. Earlier she wrote out a list of what she remembers Gojo showing reactions to in the past, eliminating anything less than a full attack. 

‘He’s quite sensitive, it doesn’t take much to set him off, but getting an actual fit from him is a touch more rare. Normally he has quite the exaggerated buildups, long and hitchy, which he makes a lot of noise about, but the actual sneezing is minimal. At least, compared to the results I’m looking for. No, I need something more than a simple sensitivity. If it was Geto I’d blow smoke in his face, but that’d only prompt a minor reaction out of Gojo.’ 

“Hiya Shoko, take a seat! Geto here was just sharing the mochi he bought!”

“I bought it for myself, you just stole half when my back was turned.” 

“Come on, we both know if you put something sweet in front of me I’m gonna eat it.” 

Shoko seats herself next to Gojo, sharing a glance with Geto when he’s distracted by the sweets once more. A darker tone dips into Gojo’s voice as he lets his sunglasses fall so Geto can see his eyes, a mischievous haze clouding them. 

“You knew the risks, now you pay the price.”

“The price being my mochi?”

“Exactly! Now you’re catching on~.”

With that, Gojo grabs another one, laughter bubbling out as Geto attempts, and fails, to smack his hand away. However, before he can pop it in his mouth, he freezes, hand inches from his face. His breath catches, nose twitching. Shoko finds Geto’s eyes darting over to her, and she offers a slight shake of the head. ‘Nope, not my attempt, this is all him.’ Geto starts to speak, eyes flickering back over to Gojo.

“You alri-” 

“heHh-! hah’adJSHhh’iew-! hep’gshh’iew-!”

“Blessings.” 

“Guhhh- thank you.”

Shoko takes her turn to speak, eager to ascertain any possible advantages. ‘If he’s sick his nose will be extra sensitive, and I may be able to cinch this win. Especially given Geto needing to wait three days, ideally the window of sensitivity will have passed.’ 

“Feeling okay?” 

“Indeed. This is just the price I must pay for being so talented- huEH’djZShh’uu-! I can't be perfect in every aspect, that would just be unfair!”

“Come again?”

Geto rolls his eyes, gesturing to the sky as he turns his gaze back to Shoko once more. Gojo meanwhile wipes a few tears from his cheeks, groaning lightly at the quickly increasing watery nature of his eyes. 

“He’s just allergic to the sun.” 

“I am not allergic- I’m just a tad sensitive to bright lights. Christ this is annoying.”

“Was the mochi really worth it?”

“Suguru Geto, don’t you talk like that! Mochi is always worth it!”

The eagerness has quickly faded out, Shoko letting an airy sigh press out between her pursed lips. ‘Right, I did know about this. I believe it’s called a photic sneeze response? He’s had it for as long as I’ve known him, though I believe he said it’s gotten worse the more he wears those glasses. Blocking out the light so much of the time only adds to his sensitivity when it inevitably breaks through. However, it causes very few sneezes, he said the main issue is his eyes watering.’

“If you touch the last piece I’m making you buy me a new one.”

“Aw- that’s not faiiiir!” 

“Boys, boys, let’s not fight. I have a better solution.”

With that, Shoko swipes the last piece, grinning at the complaints from the guys as she places it against her tongue, savouring the sweet taste. Her mind dips back to her plan as Gojo starts to whine about being hungry again. 

‘He’s incredibly sensitive, even the mention of sneezing is enough to get his nose itchy. Describing how much it must tickle is fair game, but on its own, pretty ineffective. He’s annoyingly good at holding back when he wants to be, so if he catches on that sneezing is what I want, he’ll do everything in his power not to. I just need him to think I’m teasing him for his reaction, can’t let him read deeper into my motives.’ 

“Shoko?” 

“Hm?”

Her name pulls her back into the conversation, both Geto and Gojo watching her closely, a lopsided grin spreading across Gojo’s mouth. ‘Oh, I’m going to enjoy wiping that smug look off his pretty-boy face.’  Gojo speaks up again, Geto’s eyes following her movements as she casually lets her hand dip back into her bag. 

“I was asking if you’d want to come with us to the mall, DiverCity specifically? I’ve been craving chocolates that they sell at one of the stores for days.” 

“Funny you mention it, I was just thinking about that place earlier. I’d love to come, but I have an assignment. Next time though, yeah?”

“Aw fiiiine, but Geto, you’re still coming, right?”

“Sure, why not. I could use a few things.” 

Shoko tunes out again, hand tightening around a bottle as she lets a smirk spread across her face. ‘Funny he mentions the mall, seeing as that’s exactly where I got my method from.’ The last time they’d gone together she’d been showing him around a store he’d never been to before. It specializes in calming methods, and given how stressful being a Jujutsu sorcerer can be, she finds herself drawn there often.

An employee next to them had been showing a few people a new pillow spray, and as soon as they’d spritzed it, Gojo had been bent over into his arm with a rapid fit. She’d had to drag him out of the store. ‘Quite embarrassing at the time, especially given how whiny he can get during an attack, but now? Now I’ll get to use that spray to get payback.’ 

“Hey, Gojo.”

She cuts into their conversation with ease, used to interrupting them. ‘With those two, someone is always talking. If you wait for a pause, you’ll never get a word in.’ Gojo turns to her with a curious look, across the blanket Geto mimics it, a hint of something deeper flashing through his eyes. She gives him a quick nod, smirk quickly spreading across his face as he attempts to cover it. 

“You know how I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping recently? I found a new spray that has been really helping. I thought you might want to have a look at it, I know you sometimes struggle with insomnia too.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you, yeah show me- show me- show me!” 

‘Kind isn’t quite the word I’d use, but I appreciate your excitement anyways.’ Pulling it from her bag, she’s unsurprised at the lack of recognition in his eyes. He’s never been one for cataloging irrelevant information, and for some reason he’d decided keeping a list of everything that sets him off was irrelevant.

Taking off the cap, she gives him an open smile, before spraying it right in front of his face. ‘Can’t risk actually hitting him, that would be too suspicious, but I want it to get as close to his nose as possible.’ The result, much to her delight, is instantaneous. 

“hhaHhHH-! Wh- whAhht- what kind of sp- spra… sprayisthat… heH’gnDZShh’uuhh-!”

“Something wrong?”

“I think I’m- eH’GNDZSHh’uu-! I think- heHASIhh’oo-! ah’gehhzshh’iew-!”

“Are you okay?” 

Geto’s watching carefully, Shoko’s sure he’s keeping count in his head. Still, needing Gojo to believe her facade, she offers sympathy, pulling a travel pack of tissues out of her bag. ‘Tissues that just so happen to be sprayed with the allergen. Still only counts as one method, according to the rules.’

“Y- yeah- hAgzshh’uu-! knDzshh’iee-! Oh, scus- scuseme- heHhh-!”

“Here, take these, you sound like you need them.”

“Th… thhhehHh- thank you- hH’GUHzshh’oo-! aiYISHH’oo-! aHH’DNGZSHh’uu-! Oh god…” 

“Blessings, Gojo.”

Finally speaking up, Geto catches Shoko’s eye and mouths ‘nine’. She shoots back a whispered ‘so far’, catching a smile in response. Gojo’s too busy tearing into the pack of tissues to notice any of this, bringing one to his nose as he gets a pause in the sneezing. He manages to blow, breathing a sigh of relief, instantly cut short by an itchy inhale. 

“heAHh-! hH’DnZShh’uu-! AYISHH’oo-! KETZSHHH’oo-! What the- henGT-! ainGT’shoo-!”

“Blessings indeed, Gojo. Are you alright?”

“The ti- tihhhckle- heH’kNGDT-! haAHh-! eh’dnZZShh’oo-! Scuse me- the tickle got wo- wo… worse… I’m… I’m gonna… heHh-!” 

Shoko smirks as the tears start pooling in Gojo’s eyes, his nose quivering as it starts to flush a brilliant shade of pink. ‘Time to implement phase two: suggestions. Just gotta be careful not to tip my hand. He’s attempting to stifle, which will only help, it only makes the tickle stronger.’

“You must be allergic to the spray, I’m so sorry, I had no idea!”

“heH-! hh’gndJSHH’uu-! AIYShhh’iew-! heH’DJZSHh’uu-!”

“Oh, bless you. Sounds really itchy, are yo-” 

“hH’DJEZSHh’aa-! Sh- Shoko- waaitt… ahh’keTShh’oo-!” 

“-you feeling it? The burning sensation-” 

“eh’GnDJZSH’aahh-! hAHh’inGKt-!”

“-filling your sinuses? Like a feather, gen-"

“nGEHT’choo-! hePt’choo-! eNgEHP’choo-!”

“-gently brushing the inside of your nose?” 

“heAIISHH’uhh-! eh’GdJZShh’uu-! I need… I’m gonna… I can’t…!”

Geto gives her a pointed look, lightly tapping his wrist. ‘Time’s almost up, time for the home stretch. Gotta make sure I get one last fit outta him. I know exactly what to say.’ Gojo’s nose is pressed into his wrist, trembling with allergic need as the tears keep flowing down his cheeks, seemingly making the tickle even worse as they brush up against the edges of his nose.

“I’m so sorry, Gojo. If I’d have known you were this allergic I never would have sprayed it so close to your nose! I mean, the droplets must have just floated through the air, gently landing on your skin, right on the tip of your nose-”

“Cru- Cruel Shoko- hEH’EDZSHH’uu-! eh’KTZSHhh’aa-! aiYISHH-keATzhh’oo-!” 

With that, Shoko meets Geto’s eyes one last time, mouthing ‘how many?’, quite satisfied by the ‘thirty-two’ she receives in return. Her satisfaction only rises as Gojo ducks into his arm with another tightly stifled burst, Geto raising an eyebrow at the display.

“hH’KNGt’choo-! iNGt’choo-! hah’DNGt’choo-!”

“Blessings, Gojo.”

“Snff- Thank you, Geto. Guhhh… I’m gonna be itc- itchy… hh’GNZshh’iew-! for the rest of the day.” 

Shoko pulls the tissues from Gojo’s lap while his focus is aimed towards Geto, replacing them with a second pack from her bag. ‘As fun as it is to watch you suffer, my attempt is over, no need to prolong the exposure. This reaction is gonna last for most of the day anyways.’ 

“Blow again, it might help dispel some of the allergen.”

“Yeah, good- eh’aISHH’uu-! good idea. Ya know, that may help you sleep, but I’m- heHh-! hEZSHHH’aa-! I’m getting the vague notion it wouldn’t do the same for me.” 

Geto laughs, a smile tearing through Gojo’s itchy face at the sound, Shoko soon joining in. ‘Always one step removed, just outside the joke, but that’s okay. At least for now, I’m in on the joke while Gojo isn’t. I can live with that.’

Final Results: Thirty-Two (32) sneezes from Shoko’s Attempt. Method Use/Application: Linen spray Gojo is allergic to, sprayed in front of face/on tissues presented to him. Sneezy talk was also implemented, increasing success. 

~~ Geto’s Attempt ~~

‘Shoko’s try yielded better results then I was counting on. I may know more about Gojo but some facts escape even my grasp. I had no idea he was so allergic to that spray. However, that wasn’t what set her apart, it’s her cunning. She explained to me after that she sprayed it on the tissues. Truly genius, I would’ve never thought of that.’ 

This time it’s Geto’s turn to approach the duo, eyes closing as he smiles, Gojo giving a shout and Shoko putting out her cigarette. ‘I guess she doesn’t want to be called out for interference. It’s no matter, I don’t plan on letting anything distract me from my attempt. I didn’t have to think long about what to use, just how to best utilize it.’ 

“Geto! Shoko was just telling me about a new type of chocolate she saw the other day! Can we go buy some? Pleaaaase? Pretty please?”

“You still owe me for the last pack I bought you.”

“Aw, come on, you know you wannaaa~! You don’t wanna deny me of my happiness, do you?”

“You can have happiness without chocolates, Gojo.”

“How could you say such things?”

Gojo lets a pout spread over his face, lightly huffing as he leans his head against Geto’s shoulder. ‘Dramatic as always. Though, I guess that’s the reason we came up with this little challenge in the first place. One I’m sure to win with what I have planned.’ His mind starts to drift back to the first time he got to witness Gojo and lavender in the same room. 

They’d been in a meeting together, the higher ups needing something Geto can’t recall now. It’s not of importance, even at the time it was one of the last things on his mind. Front and center was Gojo’s losing battle against the vase of lavender sitting almost mocking him on the table.

Normally, should the situation call for it, Gojo could hold off an allergy attack for hours, or at least upwards of twenty minutes. However, against the lavender he lasted no more than three, needing to leave the room just after seven because he was no longer able to form full words between the sneezing. The higher ups had been quite irritated, but today it would serve Geto well.

“Earth to Geto? Suuuguruuu? You there?”

“Huh?”

“Jeez, what is it with you two lately? Did I miss something, or is it just ‘stare off into the abyss with a smile creeping at your mouth’ season?”

“Sorry, I was just reminiscing.”

“Any particular memory you want to share, Geto?”

Shoko offers, eyes flashing with mischief as Geto sends a dark look in her direction, quickly replaced by a smile as she playfully sticks out her tongue.

“Not at the moment.”

“Oh, I know! Why don’t we play ‘share your favourite memory of Gojo’!” 

“Yeah, no.”

“Aw Shoko, you’re no fun.”

Geto chuckles, ruffling Gojo’s hair as he gazes up from behind his sunglasses. ‘Just placing the lavender near him wouldn’t work. He could either leave the area, or the attack might not surpass thirty-two. The reason it had such a severe effect in the meeting was likely do to the pollen having a chance to gather in that tiny room.’

“Gojo, I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? You shouldn’t have!” 

“Well if you don’t want i-”

“Hey, woah-woah-woah- of course I want it-!”

Reaching into his bag, Geto starts to set his plan in motion. ‘My best chance is getting some form of lavender where I can get it near his nose, close enough for the pollen to have a chance to float around him, but not obvious enough that he’ll just avoid it. I think this is the perfect solution.’

Making direct eye contact with Shoko, Geto sends her a message clearly. ‘My attempt is about to begin, get ready’. His hands grip around the present, placing it gently on Gojo’s head, fighting a smirk at the joy filling Gojo’s eyes.

“A flower crown!?” 

“Yes. You showed me how to make them a while back, and so I made this one myself. I thought you might appreciate it-”

“Suguru… I love it! What kind of flowers are these?”

“Mostly sakura, though I did add a few other plants I found in the area to tie it together.” 

‘If I just used lavender he’d simply take it off when he started sneezing. However, given that it’s not a type of flower he’s allergic to, it won’t be his first thought. Because of that, he’ll be too focused on sneezing to worry about removing it, letting the hidden lavender keep sending wafts of pollen down into his face. Plus, I made sure the sakura was quite pollen soaked. He’s not allergic, but with his nose already being set off from the lavender, the sickly sweet smell is sure to prompt a few extra sneezes.’  

“It’s bea- hEHh-! Oh, scuse me. It’s beautiful.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just thou- ahHh-! Hehh… thought I was… o- oh… I am…. I’m- hH’DjZEShh’oo-!”

“Blessings, Satoru.” 

“iHh’kETChh’uu-! S- sorry I… eH’DtjZSh’iew-! hEh’kezzchh-aiyshhh’aa-knGT’choo-!”

“And again.” 

A glance over to Shoko tells Geto she’s keeping track, fingers tapping against the railing she’s leaning on with every sneeze. Gojo lets out a faint whine, hand coming up to scrub at his nose as tears start dripping from his eyes.

“hH’GNt’choo-! ehH-! Ohfuck- hH’NGT-EINGT-nNGT-knDT’choo-! aINGT’choo-! hAH’DJZSHHEW-!”

“Christ, Satoru, bless you.”

“knngT-! aIghNT’choo-! hH’YEZSHH’aa-! AIYShh’oo-! neH’GEDT’choo-!”

Geto risks another look at Shoko, barely containing his smirk at the dumbfounded expression she’s wearing as Gojo frantically fans his face. ‘I haven’t even started talking about the tickle yet. He’s more allergic than I remembered. I almost feel bad…’ His thoughts are cut off by Gojo pressing his rapidly twitching nose into Geto’s shoulder, hitching against the fabric of his shirt. ‘And that’s why it’s only almost.’

“henGT’choo-! hH’DEHgnT’choo-!”

“You should stop that, you’re not-”

“heH’KNDTZSHH’uhh-! ihh’GNXXZT’choo-!”

“-gonna be able to catch a breath.”

“You- you’re right… Suguru it- it tihhhhckles… hEaHh-! AIYZSZHH’uu-! kuh’MMZSHH’aa-!”

Gojo’s voice is muffled from the congestion already seeping through the cracks, and Geto feels a pang of guilt tear at his heart. It’s quickly replaced by something calmer as Gojo aims the next fit at Geto’s chest, flower crown shaking lightly as he ducks his head, only releasing more pollen. ‘Sorry Satoru, but this is well deserved. Time for a little power of suggestion.’ 

“aH’GnZH’euu-! hehHh-! hH’MMZSHHH’oo-!” 

“Blessings. Those sound quite itchy-” 

“emmpffshh’oo-! hEPT’choo-! ehP’choo-!”

“-don’t they? Something bothering your sensitive-” 

“hHMPPT’choo-! AInGT’choo-! S- Suguru- hNGT’choo-! heH’KDZGT’choo-!”

“-nose? I bet it’s tickling something awful, isn’t it?” 

Meeting Gojo’s watery eyes, Geto lets himself slip right into stage three of his plan, time quickly running out. ‘Knowing him, he should be sensitive enough by now that just the word sneeze will set him off. Let’s try to get a handful more. I believe I’ll win anyways, but better safe than sorry.’

“eNGXXT’choo-!”

“Don’t you just-” 

“hepDT’choo-!”

“-have to…”

“hAhHh-!”

“Sneeze so badly?”

“hAH’ADJZSHH’uu-! keTSCHH’aa-! AIYZSHH’uhh-!”

“Blessings again for those sneezes.”

“I kn- know what…. Ohgod- hEH’EDZSHHEW-! guhhH’DNZSHH’oo-! I know what you’re doing.”

“Doing? I’m simply blessing you as you sneeze.”

“AIYZSHH’oo-! hH’GNkZSHH’uhh-!”

Taking pity on him as Shoko mouths ‘time’s up’, Geto pulls the crown from Gojo’s hair, tossing it to the side as the sneezy man ducks into his arm for another fit. ‘Whoops… maybe I should have removed it a bit sooner…’

“iNGt’choo-! heASHH’oo-! kEtCSHh-aizshh-kezZSHH’uu-!”

“Bless you Satoru…”

“You- hEHnGT’choo-! Sound quite gui- guilty- eh’knSHH’uhh-! Guilty, Suguru. Why ever could- hh’gEZSHH’aa-! Christ… Could that be? Wouldn’t have any-hNGSHH’iew-! Anything to do with my having two allergy attacks in the past four days, would it?” 

Geto’s eyes snap to the floor, a warm tint starting to spread across his cheeks, Shoko chuckling as she lightly pats Gojo’s back, letting her eyes close with a slight huff.

“I think he’s caught us, Geto.” 

“I believe so.” 

“hNNSCHh’iew-! Would someone care to explain to me what’s going on exactly?”

“Of course, but first we should probably get you some allergy medication. There was lavender in the flower crown.”

Gojo’s watery glare meets Geto, his mouth hanging open. ‘Probably less from shock and more for the sake of breathing. I doubt much is flowing through his sinuses right about now.’ Geto can’t help but smile at the sight, pink nose vibrating as Gojo attempts to end the attack by pinching it shut, tears streaming from his gorgeous eyes. ‘If he wasn’t so miserable, I’d want to see this side of him more often, he’s quite adorable like this.’

“I want to be mad bu- knDJZSSH’uu-! But I proooobably deserved this.”

Laughter erupts from the group, Shoko nearly falling over as it bursts from her chest, Geto pulling Gojo closer as they start walking back into the school, explaining the competition to a still sneezing Gojo.

Shoko leads them to her office where she keeps a stash of medications for situations like this. ‘Well, not exactly like this,’ Geto chuckles to himself, ‘I doubt there’s even been a situation quite like this one. Oh, that reminds me-’

“Say, Shoko, I did win, didn’t I? Even not counting-”

“hHNGTshh’aa-!”

“-the bonus ones?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s not like I stood a chance in the first place, you two obviously know more about each other.”

“Actually, I didn’t know he was allergic to that spray. That was all you.”

“Huh, really? Interesting. Oh- I guess you want to know the numbers?”

Geto flashes a smile, eyes wrinkling as Gojo whips around with another small fit aimed at the floor. He nods at Shoko, murmuring a blessing against Gojo’s hair as he convulses. 

“heh’gnZSHhh’oo-! eh’kshhh’iew-! heHh-! hAH’DTZShhh’uu-!”

“Again, not counting the extras, you rang in at forty-two. Exactly ten more than mine, surprisingly enough.”

“Oh Christ, that wasn’t counting the ones I- hH’gnZZShh’aa-! I’m still doing?”

A blush spreads across Gojo’s face, one of the strongest sorcerers in the Jujutsu world apparently not immune to embarrassment. Shoko offers a laugh in response, rummaging through her desk until she finds a blister pack, handing it over. Geto grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, passing it to Gojo with another blessing, lightly cupping his face for just a second.

“I saw that, ya know.” 

This time both men blush, Shoka rolling her eyes playfully, then throwing a box of tissues at Geto. Gojo hastily yanks out a handful, blowing his nose with a deep groan before sniffling into the pile.

“Clean him up, will ya? It’s been a long day, I’m headed home.”

“hH’AieZSHH’uu-!”

“Let’s play again some time, shall we, Shoko?”

“Yes, let’s. Next time I’ll beat you for sure.”

“hAH’ZASHH’oo-! How ‘bout next time it’s a free for all? I’d like a little chance for revenge.”

“This was the revenge, Satoru. Ours.”

“Oh fine, but you two owe me some chocolates! Oh- oh, and mochi!” 

Shoko smacks Gojo upside the head as Geto lets a laugh burst from his chest, the other two soon joining in harmony.

The world outside may be a dangerous place for a Jujutsu sorcerer, and the three of them aren’t immune to the stress, but right here, right now, they’re just three friends sharing a laugh.

Final Results: Forty-Two (42) sneezes from Geto’s Attempt. Method Use/Application: Lavender hidden in a flower crown already dripping with sakura pollen. Also used suggestibility, increasing success with sneezy talk.

[drluvsick]

HIHI!!! Sooo. I just came across you blog and I love you posts! I was wondering if you could do Muichiro x fem reader who's really awkward and quiet at first when she became a hashira, but she warms up quickly to (mostly) everyone because of mostly Mitsuri, and now she's more outgoing, bubbly, silly, and childish (because she's 13) but she's really kindhearted, caring, and SUPER mature and understanding in the right times, she's always putting others before herself and stuff like that. Shortly after, Reader gets a crush on Muichiro and she sadly isn't very well at hiding her feelings... 😓 ANYWAYS. she's really scared that Muichiro will reject her if she shares her feelings, so she doesn't tell anyone or make moves unless Muichiro does (if he likes her too.)

So so so, I know this kinda doesn't make any sense but you can do whatever with it🤷🏾‍♀️ I saw that you wanted requests so I did it. I completely understand if you don't take on the request but I'd greatly appreciate it!! Thank you 🫶🏾🫶🏾

𝐘𝐎𝐔. — 𝐦𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐨

(read ask for reader desc.!) you’ve always been afraid of rejection, and that feeling is just multiplied when you like muichiro. cold, harsh— but what about after he regains his memories and he’s more out there with his emotions? 📝 fem! reader. OHHH MYYYY MUIII . . . super cute ideas for this too bad i can’t cram ‘em all into one fic, but ‘s fine <3 SMALL SPOILERS FOR MUICHIRO’S BACKSTORY AND SWORDSMITH VILLAGE ARC! reminder: muichiro’s just a teen who doesn’t know how to confess. with that said: enjoy! :]

word count : 700+

𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . 𝘚𝘜𝘗𝘌𝘙 𝘚𝘏𝘠 (𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘋 𝘜𝘗) — 𝘕𝘌𝘞𝘑𝘌𝘈𝘕𝘚

— 𝘐 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘏𝘖𝘌 (𝘚𝘗𝘌𝘋 𝘜𝘗) — 𝘖𝘋𝘌𝘛𝘈𝘙𝘐

y/n. that name meant many things to muichiro. the youngest pillar, a talented fighter, a person that he could easily click with and remember rather oddly— it’s not like he’s known for his exceptional memory, after all.

there were so many feelings associated to you as well. some sickly warmth pooling in his heart, a feeling that he had felt experienced long ago, a memory just grazing his fingertips but can’t quite hold onto.

he finds himself wanting to join you on missions, making sure you’re safe, and other things that he wouldn’t have cared to do for the other hashiras. he thought that maybe it was because the age gap between you two was smaller in size, a person that could relate to him as, well, being young and immature and times.

but he would do this for the master if he’d been a demon slayer, so he concluded that it really wasn’t about the similar numbers.

it seemed that everyone around him knew except for him himself. that’s how it’d stay, with his mind always stuck up in the clouds and paying less attention to trivial matters that didn’t deem important. trivial matters that included everyone else’s opinions on you and him, and trivial matters like the fluttery feeling invading his stomach whenever he’s around you.

he’s aloof, blind to your stares and small flushes on your face whenever he’s near, his head too muddled and affected by his old unknown trauma. you think that he’ll never notice, never care— but in reality, he just can’t place his own feelings and he doesn’t bother to try.

but one day, everything changes.

you were called to the swordsmith village to assist in killing some of the demons, cleanups, anything you could do to help since you were nearby anyway.

but the thing that was forefront on your mind the entire time was what your crow said earlier when administrating the command to come to this mission.

“find the person assigned to take you to the swordsmith village to assist hashiras muichiro tokito and mitsuri kanroji.”

muichiro was here, somewhere. you were going to find him once you finished defeating the demon you were fighting currently, hoping for his safety. hoping that this line of work didn’t cut off his lifeline too soon, too early.

and as you ran by mitsuri’s commands to go help tanjiro, a wish grew in your mind that maybe he’d hope the same about you.

too many, there was just too many. too many memories over flooding him. too many scenes of you flashing in his head, new details suddenly coming to him about you. you…

he figured out what that sickly feeling was. that warmth that engulfed him so eagerly that felt nice— that feeling that he wanted more of which brought him to be especial towards you.

love.

he had felt that with his parents, his brother, with you. but love’s different with you, it’s so overwhelming.

for the first time in what feels like forever, his mind feels clear. everything seems so sharp in view, even after the fight he just underwent. especially when he sees you.

you’re running towards him, obviously worried. he notices so much about you that he wouldn’t have speculated about before.

is it all finally over?…

“muichiro!” you yell, noticing something unfamiliar about his eyes. they seem… almost wider, brighter; like he just had a sort of life changing epiphany.

he says your name back, a smile blooming on his face. he wills his body to move, to get up— even though the pain that skyrockets through him makes him stumble a bit.

you reach him, his arms immediately hugging you as you swear your heart stops. you kneel down with him clinging onto you, a big smile as his expression as you feel your face explode with heat.

“muichiro?…”

“i love you,” —he replies a little strained— “i love you so much.”

“wai—wait what?!” you say out of shock.

“it’s probably a bit forward, but i just needed to get that out to you.” he grips you a bit tighter as you tell him to stop talking or else he’s going to feel worse.

“i feel the same, i love you too!” you reassure him, your own smile blossoming. you pull him closer into a warmer embrace— one that he happily accepts. and there, he feels as if all his pains have been wiped away, replaced with the only thing that matters at the moment—

you.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[sunny44]

Sweet gesture

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Co-worker!reader

Warnings: bad period cramps.

Summary: You’re having really bad period cramps and Max do something to make your day better.

The pain was familiar, but that didn’t make the cramps any less painful. I was sitting at my desk, trying to concentrate on the notes for Max’s upcoming press conference. Working with him wasn’t easy. Max was stubborn, rebellious, and seemed to enjoy doing exactly the opposite of what I suggested, which made my job even harder. This often left me frustrated, feeling like I couldn’t do my job properly, but somehow, we made the partnership work.

In the middle of the reminder I was writing, a wave of cramps hit my abdomen, making me contort in my chair, and I ended up dropping my pen. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to take deep breaths to relieve the pain, but it wasn’t working, so I took some medicine and noticed my bottle was empty. I went to refill it and took the opportunity to go to the bathroom as well.

When I returned to my office, I saw something on my desk that hadn’t been there before: a small package of my favorite chocolate with a note on top. Curious, I picked up the note and read: "The internet says chocolate helps, I hope I got your favorite."

I looked around, trying to see if anyone was watching. There was no one nearby who seemed to be paying attention to me. I looked back at the chocolate, surprised and grateful. It was a simple gesture, but extremely thoughtful. I knew who had done it—the hurried scribble on the note was unmistakable. It was Max.

He had probably noticed my discomfort during the morning. Despite the constant arguments and disagreements, this gesture showed that he cared, at least a little. I took the chocolate and unwrapped it, smelling the sweet, comforting aroma. I ate a piece, and to my surprise, it really helped distract me from the pain.

A few hours passed, and I finished the work needed for the press conference. I decided it was time to thank Max. He was in the pit, talking with the GP and reviewing the details for the weekend. I approached, waiting for a break in the conversation to get his attention.

"Max, can I talk to you for a moment?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He turned, a little surprised to see me there.

"Sure, Y/n. What’s up?" I hesitated for a second but decided to get straight to the point.

"I just wanted to thank you for the chocolate. It was a very thoughtful gesture and… it really helped."

Max seemed momentarily disconcerted, but a small, shy smile appeared on his face.

"Oh, no problem. I just… noticed you weren’t feeling well and thought it might cheer you up." I felt a wave of warmth pass through me. It was rare to see this side of Max, so genuine and unguarded.

"It did help, and I appreciate it very much. Thank you." He shrugged, trying to look casual, but I could see he was touched by my gratitude.

"Well, if you need anything else… you know where to find me." I smiled.

"I know, Max. And I promise I’ll try not to bother you too much at the next press conference." He laughed, a genuine, carefree sound.

"I’ll believe it when I see it, Y/n."

I laughed with him, and for a moment, all the tensions and frustrations of the past few weeks seemed to disappear. That simple act of kindness had created an unexpected connection between us. As I walked back to my desk, I felt a little lighter, not just from the lessened pain but from the certainty that despite our disagreements, there was a growing mutual respect and care between me and Max.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“F1 Weekend dump 🏎️”

[spitdrunken]

i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

[iiotic]

HELLO, idk if I already sent a request here but if not, may bi request Lyney and any other character if you wish x gn reader who returns to them bloodied and bruised, the "I didn't have anywhere else to go" trope if you will. If not feel free to ignore.

"I DIDN'T HAVE ANYWHERE ELSE TO GO"

summary: how'd neuvillette, lyney react to their crush returning injured saying that they didn't have anywhere else to go.

tw: angst, lowercase intended, ooc neuvillette and lyney?? blood and injures ig?? not proff read, tell me if i missed anything, gn reader | wc: 1.1k

thank you so so so much for the request!! really liked the idea and I had fun making it. also I thought it would be fun if they were on the crushing stage, they obviously harbour feelings for eachother but like didn't tell yet. I made lyneys part significantly longer yet neuvillettes part is slightly shorter then I expected. hope it wasn't too bad <3 (I don't rlly like how it turned out help)

── ꒰neuvillette. ｡˚ ꒱

you struggled to keep your eyes open as you walked slowly in the direction of the chiefs justice house, it certainly didn't help that you barely remembered where he lived. you were at his house maybe once, and you didn't want to feel pushy so it didn't really bother you. however now you realized that maybe you should pay more mind to where he is located.

you sniffed, as tears flew on your cheeks, mixing with the rain after the trial. unfortunately or fortunately for you no one was on the streets this late at night meaning that no one will be able to help you, yet will be able to see how embarrassingly you walk.

after many turns and stumbles you made it to neuvillettes door, you leaned against the door frame, knocking weakly. the door opened surprisingly fast.

"dear? oh!" he gasped, grabbing your arm to keep you from falling.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go, i'm sorry." you whispered, he felt.. flattered? he was glad that you trust him yet he never imagined that he'd found out like that. seeing you hurt was not something he enjoyed.

"dont apologize." he murmured, before leading you to his couch, closing the door behind him. you saw him search for his first aid kick in the kitchen cabinet before coming back to you.

"what happened? how did it happen?" he asked as he gently pulled your sleeve up, eyeing your injuries.

"i just wanted to get some groceries, but before I knew it someone jumped on me, I don't know who I didn't see their face, pheraps it was the fatui but I doubt that what would they need from me? or pheraps it was some locals after a bit too much alcochol or-" you said hurriedly, before neuvillette hushed you telling you to calm down and so you did.

the room was silent, only the lamp in the corner of the couch turned on, it was comforting. maybe you'd enjoy it if you weren't in so much pain.

"im surprised that you know how to bandage people.. did someone taught you?" you asked him quietly, impressed by his skill.

"oh.. sigewinne taught me after i visited her in the fortress of meropide. although I didn't have anyone to test my skills on I believe that I know what Im doing." he looked at you, smiling slightly.

after some minutes the job was finished but neuvillette didn't let you go home, offering you a place in his bedroom as he, himself would sleep on the couch. you declined at first but gave in after you realized that the chief justice cares for you, flustered. before saying you goodnights neuvillette reasurred you that the person who hurt you would be punished.

in the morning the local newspaper was telling everyone to be careful and be cautious as someone is jumping people in fontaine..

── ꒰lyney. ｡˚ ꒱

the night was cold as you stumbled on your feet, struggling find your favourite magician. he just finished another of his magic shows that you were invited, however after you got ready and left your house you got cornered. you were left with bruises and small cuts all over your body, you lips and nose all covered in your blood and red eyes from crying when everything happened, it hurt so badly.

you sniffed as you remembered how lyney told you to be more careful at night, seemingly worried about you. telling you that there's some anonymous people cornering others and.. oh you were at his door. you weakly knocked.. no reply, you were shivering in cold as you didn't even realize it started raining. you decided to use the doorbell. soon after you heard footsteps from the inside, a crack from the door opening.

"oh my! what--how?" you heard his voice nervously struggle wit finding the right words. before you know it you were pulled inside with one of lyneys hand on your hip and on your shoulder. he pushed you gently onto the couch, looking at you horrified. you opened your mouth to speak but you nothing came out, your favourite magician already left in hurry to get his aid kick.

your eyes felt so unbelievably heavy, you almost couldn't keep them open but maybe just maybe you could close them for a wh-.

"hey, hey." you felt your chin being lifted. "i know you've lost a lot of blood just please, please try your best to not close your okay? okay." he said in a hurry. slowly and gently picking up your arm to bandage it.

"im sorry.." you managed to whisper quietly, weekly. "i just didnt have anywhere else to go.. i dont want to be a bother."

his expression softened as he heard you voice crack at the end of the sentence. "a bother? never." he said softly, looking at your weak self.

you don't know how much time has passed, seconds, minutes, hours. you were left all bandaged up, your nose no longer bleeding as well as your mouth. you were grateful for everything that he did for you, everything that he had to go through for you. you were so embarrassed, you didn't want to bother him you knew that he was tired after his magic show.

you found yourself too weak to go to your own house so lyney decided to let you sleep in his bedroom, in his bed and his softly whispering words of comfort to you before he turned off the lights and left the room.

"you'd never be a bother to me, and im glad that you decided to seek me and my help. i won't lie, i was slightly worried after you didn't show up at my magic show tonight, you usually always are there. and yet I have never thought of checking on you, it was my fault that you have such injuries, pheraps if i showed up you'd atleast have smaller injuries and id know who hurt you. but don't worry, I will find them and they won't see the sun ever again."

© 2024 iiotic. — do not steal, translate or repost any of my content onto any other platform

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (02/10)

The Contract

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: there is no turning back now and now you and Aemond set the rules and conditions to start the whole farce.

word count: 4.6k

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!🥳

I thought this would be a very nice way to wish happy new year to all of you beautiful people who support me and like what I write, you don't know how much that means to me🥺

thank you for so much support and for so much love, I have loved being here and I definitely plan to stay for longer, seeing how that love evolves and my place here as a writer🥰 so enjoy a lot this new chapter that I really hope you like it a lot❤

many blessings to all of you, my best wishes for your lives in this 2024, I love you all so much!😊❤

enjoy!

It's the first thing you see after turning off the alarm and you curiously enter to read the recent messages from an unknown number, not having the slightest idea of who it might be.

But you let out a long sigh of frustration when you read them and see that it's Aemond, who you don't understand how the fuck he got your number. Of course, it shouldn't have been hard for him, just a few questions and anyone can tell him what he wants to know.

And knowing that you have a long day ahead of you today, you already feel the pressure all over your body when you haven't even left your bed, where you also feel the frustration and all this uncertainty that you thought you had already overcome, but no.

You barely accepted yesterday and suddenly putting the plan into action from one day to the next, it's too much. But without really having a choice, you reluctantly force yourself to get up and start getting ready.

After an hour, you leave your house with the nagging feeling of carrying a weight on your shoulders to school. And all the way there, not even the music in your ears can make your mind calm down for a moment.

Knowing very soon that your whole social life will be a mess and you will no longer be invisible, since after all Aemond was right in that respect, causes you even more uneasiness and also nervousness because you are going to pretend to be the girlfriend of the most popular guy in school.

And once the bus makes its stop, you soon enter the halls of the bustling school. And knowing that a certain silver-haired guy is waiting for you right now, every heavy step you take towards the schoolyard echoes loudly in your ears, increasing your nervousness and anxiety.

You're even tempted to back up and tell him to forget it, but you resist and keep moving forward.

As you walk through the huge doors of the backyard, it's only a matter of time before you make out the figure of Aemond sitting at the same table as yesterday in the distance. Your heart skips a beat and you feel more nervous, but gathering your courage and taking a long breath, you advance towards him, ready but with uncertain steps.

Every step seems heavy, as if you are walking into the unknown and you try to hide the nerves in your gaze, especially when Aemond notices your presence. He watches you and slowly turns to you, a subtle smile on his lips.

Again there is that feeling of telling him to forget it, to find someone else, that you can't do this. But... your mind stops you and screams at you not to be silly, that at the end of it all there will be a reward, a very good reward that getting it by faking a relationship with him, is nothing.

And it's definitely worth it.

So resigned, you reach out to him.

"Hey," he says to you without wiping off his little smile, as you take a seat in front of him and he waits for you to finish settling in, "So you've come."

"Don't bother me," you tell him without humor, definitely contrasting his mood to yours.

"Now what did I do?"

"That," you point to his face, "You're enjoying this, seeing that I haven't backed out."

"Oh, please, I actually thought you wouldn't come and tell me to fuck off after you thought better of it," he justifies himself.

"Yeah? Well, nothing a free admission to your dream college won't do," you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, though implicitly admitting your reasons, "And it's actually not like I like skipping classes, so could we get this started?"

Aemond exhales long, averting his gaze from yours for a moment before returning to watching you.

"You know you'll have to be charming and act like you're completely in love with me in public, right?" he poses, expectantly.

"Yes, I know... in public," you point out to him, "Just now no one knows we're 'dating' genius," you add, underlining the falsity of the situation.

He places a small, amused, smirk on his lips.

"Yet."

He adds with a slightly defiant tone and you roll your eyes.

"Don't get too excited either."

"Are you not?"

"Oh yeah, I can't handle the excitement," you feign in a high-pitched, ironic voice, making exaggerated hand gestures.

Aemond lets out a short but genuine laugh at your gesture. He leans back slightly, his eye revealing a mischievous glint as he watches you.

"Glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor in this," he says with his tone changing slightly to a more relaxed one.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" you reply, accepting his change of mood, but still maintaining a certain emotional distance.

You figure it's just a matter of the two of you getting more into trust, and if you're going to do this with him, you're definitely going to do your part. But for now, this is still a little awkward and unexpected. And the sooner you do this, the better it will be for you.

So you shift your focus and lean forward slightly with a more serious expression on your face.

"So let's get started?"

"Well, making a contract will take up a lot of our time, so I thought it would be easier to just say and agree between us-

"It will be easier this way, to write down and establish the rules and the conditions we want to do during all this, just to have everything clear and not miss anything, Aemond," you interrupt him, taking out a notebook and a pen to start writing.

"Okay, fine," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"So?" you watch him expectantly with the blank sheet of paper in front of you and your pen in hand, "What do you suggest first?"

"Well... first we need to know when this will all end," he begins to say, adopting a relaxed but firm stance, "And I would say that it may end when it is no longer necessary for both of you to continue pretending. But I think it's a better idea for us to last until graduation."

He proposes, looking at you intently, waiting for your reaction and you can't help but be a little surprised to hear that.

"Until graduation?" you repeat and he nods, "But you really want to do this for almost five months?"

"I know it's a long time, but that time can be beneficial for both of us," he explains, "That's enough time to give our relationship credibility and authenticity and it's also enough time to handle any problems that arise."

He says and you nod cautiously, evaluating his words.

"But if you disagree, tell me," he hurries to say.

His calm tone and your reasons contrast with the uncertainty and indecision you feel. And the two of you have barely started.

Five months is such a compromising situation and it generates some concern, because you know you will face so many things you still have no idea about and every day it could become more complicated to maintain the farce.

"I guess it's okay," you cautiously admit, trying to see the big picture, "But I feel like it's still a long time. But also reducing that time might not be enough," you agree.

"Yes but I'm sure we can handle it. And don't worry, if at some point we feel it's too much or we don't have enough reason to keep pretending anymore, we can talk iand end it."

You remain pondering, considering his words and after a few seconds you nod in agreement, and write it down as the first point on the sheet. But this alone is the first piece of a much more complicated puzzle.

1. Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

And Aemond also brings up the next point of the contract, expressing his ideas with quiet but evident assurance.

"Now, second..." he begins, "As for behavior in public, we should genuinely show affection in the hallways, cafeteria, and at any school activity and event. In a relationship people don't take their hands off each other, so we should smile at each other, hug each other, make subtle gestures, hold hands-

"Don't say kissing, please," you interrupt him, pleading, taking him by surprise.

"Of course, Y/N," he tells you instantly, incredulous, "Obviously we'll have to kiss."

As if having to act completely in love with him and be every moment touching him isn't enough. But the idea of kissing seems a bit much to you.

"I agree about showing affection and all that, but that kissing thing might be awkward and... weird," you say, trying to be sincere but not seeming completely closed off to the idea.

Aemond looks at you incredulously.

"So you don't want us to kiss?"

"I don't think it's necessary, honestly."

"Are you crazy? How are we supposed to pretend if we're not going to kiss? No one's going to believe us if we don't kiss and that's what will literally make the whole relationship believable," he insists, visibly concerned.

"Yeah, I get that it might seem necessary, but...at least I don't want to be having to kiss you every single time."

"You don't want to kiss me?" he asks you, visibly surprised, confused and... maybe a little hurt?

You watch him silently for a moment not understanding his reaction and then watch him with a small amused smile.

"I'm not one of your fans, Targaryen."

"Oh come on, everyone wants to kiss me," he says confused and incredulous, proving his point.

"Even the guys?"

"Well... yeah, I don't know, maybe some of them," he says with a shrug.

"Seven Hells," you mutter, averting your gaze for a moment, "I-I really don't want to do that," you say, speaking seriously and then you let out a sigh, "But you're right that no one's going to believe us-

"Obviously. I always have," he is quick to say.

"So my proposal is this... we'll kiss, yes, but only when it's extremely necessary, and when I say extremely necessary I mean extremely necessary."

You watch him intently, keeping yourself willing with your proposal, waiting for his opinion, which judging by his face, he doesn't quite agree with.

"And what would those extremely necessary moments be exactly?" he inquires, attentive and interested, also still looking slightly worried.

"In the cafeteria or in the hallways when everyone is obviously looking at us and we're attracting attention. Just don't abuse it."

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Well, let's limit them to extremely necessary moments," he finally says resignedly and you quickly note the second point.

2. Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

"But then that second point is also going to apply to the parties you'll be going to with me and my lacrosse games you'll be going to."

You quickly raise your gaze to him.

"What?"

"Yes," he nods, "Going to the parties together will also lend credibility to the relationship and obviously we have to be very close to each other. And it's the same in my games, you must go to support and encourage me, like any girlfriend in love with her boyfriend would."

Aemond's words provoke an instant reaction in you, that confusing you and taking you by surprise.

"But I don't go to parties."

"Now you will," he says with a calm expression, reaching out his hand and taking the pen and your notebook.

"But-

He is already writing in a section further down the sheet which he lists as; 'additional conditions'.

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

"Aemond, I'm not a big fan of parties, really," you insist, "You'll have a bad time if you take me with you and I'll probably ruin everything."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you the trick to having a good time and change that mentality you have. Besides I won't take you to every party, just a few," he assures you, "All while keeping up appearances," he hands you back your notebook and pen, "With me you'll never get bored, I promise," he says with a small smile on his lips.

You let out a sigh, placing the notebook back in front of you, still undecided.

"Yes? Well, we'll see about that. I warned you though."

He lets out a soft little laugh.

"Come on Y/N, you can't be that bad."

"I assure you I can be."

"And so what do you do for fun?" he asks you, keeping his smile, curiosity evident in his gaze.

And there it is, the question that totally describes your personality and that in fact you don't like to answer to just anyone, because then they call you boring. But you can't lie to Aemond, he is astute enough and would notice.

So you decide to be honest.

"I like to read," you reply, lowering your gaze and feeling slightly embarrassed, "And I love going to the movies or watching movies and shows at home, either one is totally fine with me. Oh... and... hm... I also like ice skating, although I don't do that as often but... it's something I like too."

And even though it's only a bit of the world of things you like, Aemond listens to you attentively with a soft expression, saying nothing afterwards, as if he's processing every word you've said, while you only feel more embarrassed by the silence.

You know there's nothing wrong with it but it always made you insecure to share your hobbies, mostly because you know that many girls your age enjoy their teenage years going out with friends to parties and getting drunk.

That didn't and doesn't appeal to you now. You have long been more comfortable with the idea of staying home or going out somewhere else instead of going to parties.

It's not as if you don't attend or avoid every social event, yes you can attend and have a good time depending on who you are with and where, but not as often as every weekend.

However, you understand and recognize the logic behind Aemond's suggestion and that is that attending parties, is essential. And just as he is about to finally speak, you do so first.

"I know they are simple things and are not very exciting for most people. I also know they can be very boring but for me... that's what I like," you shyly confess.

"Hm," he says, taking a small moment, watching you softly, only causing you even more embarrassment, "Well, that's not what I was going to say," he says, catching your attention, "Sometimes it is the simple things that mean the most to everyone and, being honest... I find them interesting," he adds, trying to evaporate any awkwardness and embarrassment you might feel.

You raise your gaze, meeting his bright blue eye watching you softly and with his gaze full of genuine understanding, along with that hint of curiosity. And that gets your attention too.

He's not judging you. And even though it's not something he would do or at least hasn't tried to do yet, he's not judging you for it and you see that genuine interest in his gaze.

"Tell you what, for every party you go to with me, I'll read one of your favorite books or a movie or shows you want me to watch," he says, picking up the notebook and pen again.

"What?" you look at him confused, unable to help but smile in bewilderment, "Are you serious?"

"You must set your own conditions too," he states as he writes, "I already dragged you into my world, so now you're dragging me into yours," he looks up at you, "What do you think? Is it a fair exchange or not?"

His proposal takes you by surprise and also confuses you a little, however, the small smile remains on your face.

The genuine expression of openness on his face and the determination with which he wrote definitely makes you feel more comfortable. His willingness to immerse himself in your interests was not something you had agreed upon from the beginning, nor is it something extremely necessary to fake a relationship.

But it's for the simple reason that you both feel comfortable if you're going to pretend for almost five months and it seems like a nice gesture from him to include it, something you honestly didn't expect from him.

And when he gives you back your notebook, you see the new rule under 'additional conditions'.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

"Yes," you nod, "Sounds like a fair deal to me."

Aemond smiles, pleased with your answer and also seeing the expression on your face.

"Great. We'll see if I discover something new I like. And you too..." he points at you with his index finger, "You won't regret it after you have a great time at my parties," he says enthusiastically, with a sort of complicity in his tone.

"Well, we'll see if you manage to impress me."

And right there, the two of you exchange complicit glances, Aemond having that little smile on his lips while you don't understand this strange new alliance the two of you are building.

But even though you didn't expect it, it's definitely to your liking.

"Now, third..." you point to the notebook with your pen, "Reinforcing the second rule, public appearance," you say, observing him, "We must act as a committed and attentive couple to each other at school and to these parties you want us to go to."

Aemond nods determinedly, thoughtfully.

"Yes, commitment at all times," he states seriously.

"So, that also means that neither of us can be with other people for the duration of all this, not even secretly," you add, making the point clear.

"And you want to write that as a rule too? It's obvious that neither of us should-

"I'll write it as the fourth rule, just to be clear about everything as I told you."

"Oh, fine."

3. Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

4. No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

"Oh and also..." says Aemond, reminding, "Since we're at that point, on additional conditions write that we should both upload photos and videos together on our social media. It's another way to lend credibility to our relationship."

"Photos and videos together on our social media," you repeat, looking at the notebook.

And this catches Aemond's attention.

"Don't tell me you don't use your social media," he says beginning to sound alert and concerned.

"No, no, I-I mean, yes," you hasten to say, "It's just... I don't know, I most likely don't use them as often as you do, besided I have very few followers."

"Don't worry, whatever followers you have are fine. Besides, I'm sure they'll increase when I upload my first photo with you."

You roll your eyes with an amused smile.

"Okay, Mr. Popularity."

"And speaking of that, hand me your Instagram and all your networks," he says instantly, grabbing his cell phone from his front pocket, "We better have that all figured out now."

Obviously Aemond's accounts had to be public while you maintain your privacy, with barely thirteen hundred followers while he has almost the entire school following him and probably from other schools as well.

In fact, your numbers compared to his are embarrassing. But you never really had the interest of having more followers on Instagram or more friends on Facebook, Snapchat is the same and apparently that doesn't matter to Aemond.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

"And well, I also think another very important thing is to maintain privacy," you suggest, lifting your gaze to watch him and Aemond gives you a confused look.

"Do you really want to write that down too? It's obvious we can't tell anyone-

"Let me enjoy this, Aemond. It's actually fun and I want to write it all down. So act serious," you ask.

He lets out a choked laugh.

"Well, yes, we must be discreet, no one must know that all this is false, only we know the truth and we must keep it that way," he says and you excitedly write it down.

"We mustn't involve our families in this either," you add, watching him intently, "But that will be difficult because your siblings are here," you grimace.

"We can keep up the farse with them for a while too, I'll convince them not to say anything to my mother or the rest of my family. And once everyone here at school is convinced enough, I'll tell the truth only to them," he say sure and confident, solving the problem.

"And you're sure you'll manage to keep them that way?"

"Yeah," he says with a shrug, "They're my siblings. I know how it works with each one."

5. Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot..." Aemond says as he points to what is already written, "You must also go on each year's trip to Dragonstone with me. That's another additional condition of mine."

"What?" you inquire again, surprised and confused.

"Yes, the trip to Dragonstone," he affirms.

Oh God, the trip to Dragonstone.

Dragonstone is an island not far from King's Landing, where there is an ancient castle with a lot of history but has been modernized with the same name and is open to every visitor.

The school makes an annual trip for educational purposes as the castle has relics and structuring from thousands of years ago. You have seen pictures and videos where everything looks really beautiful, ancestral and almost royalty.

In addition the castle offers other activities, such as rides on its huge luxury yachts, surfing, diving and swimming lessons.

You always had the spirit to go but have always known that the trip is anything but educational. You've heard stories that happen with the students, such as getting drunk, partying on the yachts, hot tubs and obviously you've heard stories of who slept with whom.

Even the most reserved get to have fun and it's not something you're interested in. You know you don't fit in that environment, especially since everyone has to share a room and you're sure that if you go, you'll have to share a room with girls with different tastes and perspectives than yours. They probably won't even let you sleep.

"Come on Y/N, you've never been to Dragonstone?" asks Aemond incredulously, noting the grimace on your face for wanting you to go there with him.

"Well, yeah I've wanted to go but... I-I, I don't know, I've heard that instead of learning about the place, everyone goes to having fun, they party, they get drunk and I-I don't...

"And what do you expect us to do in a modern castle on the shore of the beach with yachts and hot tubs?" he inquires again, expectantly, "The trip is planned for the middle of the last month of these five months and you can't let me go alone with the things that go on in that place."

You make your grimace more visible, revealing your clear indecision. And even though you and Aemond have been at odds lately over the matter of tastes, he still places a soft smile in your direction, understanding that you are not like him and prefer to do other things.

"Look, you don't have to go to the parties and drink if you don't want to," he starts to tell you, "But we can at least go to one of the parties on the yachts and then do the activities they offer on site, swimming, diving and all that," he proposes, "We'll take pictures, tour the castle and we'll both be equally satisfied."

You ponder for a moment, considering his proposal. You know you only have to get your father's signature on the permit to be able to go to the island and it's not like you've gone before so... you can do it now.

"Well, I guess that's fine," you nod, "But really promise you won't leave me alone and we'll take the time to do other activities that aren't related to partying on yachts and hot tubs."

"Please, we'll go as a couple, so of course I won't leave you alone. You'll be stuck with me," he assures you, "And I also promise you that we'll do other activities, not just the parties."

"And..." you start to say, in a serious, warning tone, "Also promise you'll pick me up every morning to bring me to school. That's another one of my additional conditions. The bus isn't very comfortable anymore."

He nods, shrugging, completely unconcerned.

"Sure, it's no problem. Besides it will make the relationship more credible," he says softly.

Despite your doubts, you feel a sense of relief at seeing and acknowledging his commitment. And you also feel more confident knowing that you have his support in all of this, even in your conditions. So you write down the two new additional conditions.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

At the end you both sign the sheet, looking honestly ridiculous but being funny, then both seal the whole contract by shaking hands.

"So when do we start all this?" you ask him, putting away your notebook and pen.

"I say tomorrow," he gives you a look of understanding, "But we need to talk now during classes in the hallways or in the cafeteria, so that when they see us together tomorrow, it won't be so surprising and will seem more believable."

You give him an unsure look.

"I think it will still be very surprising, Aemond."

"It doesn't matter, we just have to start showing together today, just talking. But tomorrow is when we really start."

And just as he says those words, with that determination, you feel again those nerves in your lower abdomen and that insecurity. But at least you still have all day today to mentally prepare yourself, and you're grateful for that.

"And before I forget this too..." he says again, "I need you to send me all your academic information to work on your college application now," he tells you seriously and you watch him completely attentively, "The five months will go by fast and during that time college applications will start. So it's best to get it all in now."

At this, you feel your heart start to beat fast and you don't know why, you guess because it's a very important issue for you. And more than anything else it's the reason you agreed to do this with him.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," you say softly, "I-I'll email it all to you."

He smiles softly in your direction.

"Very well," he nods at you, "I'll text you my email."

Despite your slight doubts about whatever is going to happen next, the idea of starting a fake relationship leaving you with a knot in your stomach and feeling your emotions mixed, you know this will all be worth a try.

So you pick up your phone and you start to write in an email all your personal and academic information. While at the same time all is said and done and the fake relationship contract is over.

THE CONTRACT

Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

ADDITIONAL CONDITIONS

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

general taglist

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff

[minkdelovely]

catharsis

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“we are more

than our disguises,

we are more

than just the pain.”

Alastor x Lucifer ; RadioApple ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: angst (w/a happy ending), established relationship, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions/allusions of abuse, mentions of death from illness, sexual content (biting, blood/blood play, kissing, palming)

word count: 2.5k

author’s note: guess who’s writing angst again?? this kinda hit me out of nowhere, but is fully inspired by @sunlit-mess / SOL 1 x 1 (on twitter) recent works (linked HERE and HERE) with alastor seeking luci’s comfort. seeing these back-to-back just set something off in my mind and i couldn’t rest until it was out. a special thanks and shoutout to our darling @fraugwinska for helping me get a title on this baby — without her y’all would have been reading ‘untitled’ 😂💖 quote is from twin flame by weyes blood. without further ado, buckle up and dive in; i hope you enjoy 😌 (also posted on my ao3 if that’s your preference)

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It was surprising, even to himself.

Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he had cried, much less in front of a witness. Composure and a display of strength were hard-won attributes he had built upon himself. Each unpleasant memory in his mind was a brick in his fortification; the tears he denied himself to shed the mortar between them.

He hadn’t always followed his own code of conduct and taken the ugliness of life on the chin. Before he had found his own strength, he could admit to being swayed by the will of others. Alastor found words to be harsher than the switch and was more than familiar with the sting of both. Though the switch was a boy’s punishment… A closed fist was more suitable for raising a man.

Or so his father had thought.

Mama’s boy… Just my luck. I got me a mama’s boy... C’mere you little pansy!

The repulsion in his father’s words hadn’t lost any of its potency, even after all this time. Alastor recalled them with more clarity than the face of the man they came from, which only served to plunge him further in his despair. Hadn’t he proven his resilience? Not only in body, but in mind and spirit? Perhaps not as much as he thought, with the way he was sobbing. If his father could see him now — bereft of stoicism and drenched in tears, drool, and mucus — he’d have been absolutely disgusted. Alastor loathed how much that bothered him. The fear of inadequacy lurching in his gut like a bad tonic.

Hot, angry tears flowed down the streaks that shame had carved on his face. Not that Lucifer would be able tell the difference with the way Alastor had burrowed into his chest. It was merely a fresh bout for the candy-striped vest to soak up. The saline fabric was beginning to chafe Alastor’s face, but he didn’t feel ready to surface; arms tightening around his lover’s waist as his hands gripped Lucifer with a desperation he assumed was buried long ago with his innocence.

Stop hidin’ behind your mama and come take your whoopin’ like a man!

Alastor choked on another sob and gasped for breath, heaving in Lucifer’s arms as the angel held him firmly. Gloved hands petting red hair and anguished, downcast ears. Hushed words of comfort spoken into the crown of Alastor’s head to soothe in tandem as they both shook from the force of the demon’s sorrow.

“I’ve got you. Shh, honey, I’ve got you.”

So much love conveyed in so few words. Alastor still grappled with accepting it. Evidenced by more tears fighting their way through his clenched eyes and a muffled, heart-wrenching cry into Lucifer’s chest. The pain of it went straight through the King’s heart as he pressed a firm kiss to Alastor’s head, feeling the distress on his face as he did so. How he wished to unburden the demon of his suffering. More than anyone, Lucifer could understand what it was like to be wracked with such melancholy.

If only Alastor could remember what had set him off, if he had, in fact, been triggered at all. He had just woken up this morning feeling low. Why was he dwelling so much on things that were better left to the past? Unbeknownst to either of them, they were sharing the same thought. And both knew that dwelling on things that couldn’t be changed did nothing other than inflict harm. Must they be plagued by the ignorance and rejection of their fathers for eternity? The cost of the scorn they’d endured seemed to grow ever higher some days.

That was one of the first things they had bonded over, sharing self-deprecating laughter to hide from their aching wounds. When love is built on a foundation of hurt, it’s only a matter of time before the walls crumble. Most times they were Lucifer’s, and sad as it was, it felt much easier to navigate. The angel was much more comfortable wearing his feelings, after all, and he’d had millennia of experience weathering his storms. Alastor was no stranger to being the shoulder to cry on. If anything, it came to him too naturally; a trait he couldn’t be sure was born in him or a side-effect of the wall he had built.

When Alastor buckled under the weight of his grief, it was devastating. He repressed himself for such long bouts of time that the force of his woe had the impact of an avalanche. Sadness, anger, shame, and regret cascading through his lithe frame until he was utterly hollowed out. Lucifer’s task of mending him was only beginning, he knew. It would be days before Alastor returned to himself, but he was more than willing to put in the work. Stitching his love back together with his needle of assurance and thread of devotion.

It was impossible to tell how long they spent this way. Alastor kneeling on the floor between Lucifer’s legs, knees sore and body aching, face still smothered in the drenched clothes donning the angel’s chest. Lucifer on the sofa in their bedroom, comforting the demon with every ounce of strength he could muster.

Until finally the tears stopped, replaced with uneven, sometimes stuttering breaths and hiccups. And soon enough those were gone too. Lucifer’s right hand rubbing Alastor’s back as his left cradled Alastor’s head. Before long, the demon was stirring. Sniffling a bit as he nuzzled his face into the mess of fluids he had left on the King’s vest and shirt. Lucifer didn’t mind, knowing that he could have it all gone with a snap of his fingers, but it wouldn’t do any good for Alastor to try wiping his face on his clothes in the state they were in.

“Let me clean your face, love. You’ll get a rash if you stay there,” Lucifer chided softly, manifesting a warm, damp handkerchief as he bent down to kiss Alastor's forehead for good measure.

It wasn’t a very convincing threat, both of them knowing that if Alastor did suffer a rash Lucifer would heal it in an instant. But Alastor conceded, and gingerly peeled himself away from the safety of the angel’s chest. His poor face was raw from tears, eyelids chapped red with irritation; dried salt crusted his cheeks like the vestiges of sea foam on the shore.

Alastor knew he looked awful. He could see himself reflected in Lucifer’s eyes proving as much. Every bit of moisture his body had was soaked into Lucifer’s chest, and he could feel the headache promised by dehydration blooming in his forehead. He was wrung out and exhausted but nearly began crying again, too moved by the tender act as Lucifer gently wiped his face. His Sire hushed him, voice calm and gaze full of adoration. Not even bothering to clean himself up before ensuring that Alastor was taken care of first.

The swell of affection Alastor felt in that moment was overwhelming, and he swallowed thickly as he closed his eyes, succumbing to the comfort of his lover’s hands tending to him. His father’s cruel words fading into darkness with every soft swipe of the warm cloth.

You’ll find someone special someday, mon amour.

Alastor was grateful for his mother’s memory, and wondered — not for the first time — what she would think of Lucifer. She had been a God-fearing woman, after all. A fear that she did not pass down to her son, choice of partner aside. He had turned his back on God long before his eyes had set their sight on the fallen angel. If she could see him from Heaven, he hoped that she would be happy. The Devil wasn’t all he was made out to be, if the way he cherished Alastor wasn’t proof enough.

His mother never pestered him about settling down, but worried for him deeply when they realized that she was sick and wouldn’t be getting better. Alastor was self-sufficient by then, with a year of working at the local radio station under his belt. Not that he didn’t take her concern to heart. If anything, when it came to her, he took things all too seriously. He wasn’t weighed down by the need for partnership or marriage, especially not when his career still had traction to gain. Alastor would try to tell her as much, assure her that she had nothing to worry about, and they would drop the subject and speak of other things. But he never left the sanatorium without receiving her prayers; his large, warm hands looking almost comical in her frail, cold grasp. Her hold on him was as fervent as the words and wishes she spoke to someone Alastor knew wasn’t listening. Though that didn’t make the act any less sincere or appreciated.

It was a brand of care Alastor thought he would never know again after his mother finally succumbed to her illness. The near-decade that passed after this had only cemented that fact. He didn’t seek companionship nor did he deny it when the mood struck. But beyond his small circle of friends, Alastor was content with his solitary life. Besides, a partner or spouse would have only made his nighttime affairs much harder to juggle — if not damn near impossible — and having the reputation of an elusive bachelor only helped with his fan base when it came to his radio segment.

It wasn’t until Lucifer had broken through his defenses that Alastor understood how he had barricaded himself from the world. And that he wanted support and comfort and understanding more than he cared to admit.

There are things you need that you can’t take care of on your own.

Basked in the warmth of Lucifer’s affection and his mother’s memory, Alastor hummed and opened his eyes, a tired smile curling his lips. Lucifer smiled back at him, expression benevolent and soft as his hands found their way back into Alastor’s hair to resume their petting. And grateful as he was, Alastor couldn’t ignore that Lucifer had yet to address the mess setting into his clothes. He fought against the pain as he uncurled his fingers, stiff from the grip on Lucifer’s waist, and silently began unbuttoning the candy-striped vest he had come to adore as the angel’s signature.

“Hey, you don’t have to —”

Alastor stopped him with a kiss, his fingers continuing their work as Lucifer sighed against his lips. The tension in both their bodies deflating as they shared hungry pecks and inhaled each other’s breath. All the while, Alastor’s hands remained busy with the undoing of buttons. First on the vest, then on the white shirt beneath it. Each open button providing relief like the snapping of a taut string.

Perhaps it was the musician in Alastor subconsciously rising to the task, but Lucifer would never cease to be caught flat-footed by the demon’s impeccable timing. How Alastor’s fingers managed to perfectly sync with his kisses was a feat Lucifer could only describe as divine. As if the acts were always meant to be one, never separate. It made the golden blood in his body turn molten; roiling through his veins as he sighed and chased every touch with relish. He was not often given these affections without needing to ask, whether with a look or an outright plea. Games that Lucifer was content to play, knowing that anticipation and a good tease left them both more than satiated.

With the collar of Lucifer’s shirt loosened, Alastor straightened his back and bent his neck to suckle and kiss down the angel’s pristine throat. The demon took his time with this, hoping to convey his gratitude and desire with every press of his lips against the milky skin beneath them. When Alastor made it to the junction between neck and shoulder, he was unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in; the flesh yielding to his fangs like a ripened peach, and the nectar that soon coated his tongue was a gift in itself.

Lucifer hissed through the bite, hips jerking in space between them as Alastor groaned and languidly sucked and licked the blood rising from the wound. With his hands free from buttons, Alastor let them explore. How he adored the feeling of Lucifer’s small frame beneath them. Endlessly fascinated by the twitches and sounds he could elicit from the angel with little more than the slightest drag of his claws against sensitive skin.

Alastor released himself from Lucifer’s neck with a salacious pop and licked his lips for good measure. The whine that escaped Lucifer from the action had Alastor’s ears and groin at attention. The low creaking sound of antlers branching out mingled with their shallow breath. Alastor’s crimson eyes drank in the almost bashful look on Lucifer’s face, accented by a golden flush that made his abdomen tight with hunger.

How lucky he was, truly.

The silver lining of Lucifer’s descent was heavily in Alastor’s favor. Had Lucifer remained God’s favorite, he’d be in Heaven — a place Alastor had never planned to be. In truth, he never intended to be in Hell either, which is where luck came into play. He wasn’t destined for mortal companionship, but for something transcendent. Not a god to worship, but a sin. A king.

An angel.

“I’m unworthy of your benevolence,” Alastor lamented, desperately kissing and kneading the supple skin of Lucifer’s chest. “But I’m devoted to you, always.”

It was a sentiment he had expressed before, feeling much like Mary Magdalene washing Jesus’ feet with her tears. But it made Lucifer’s heart jump all the same; its rapid beat calling to Alastor like a siren from under skin and bone as his teeth latched to Lucifer’s breast. Their pleasured moans harmonized as Lucifer cupped the back of Alastor's head, encouraging him to continue with a whisper of his name. Alastor happily obliged. Tongue lapping at the pert nipple, hot and fervent, as his mouth and teeth provided a deliciously sharp suction, drawing out the ambrosia in Lucifer’s veins.

Lucifer struggled to remain cognisant, lost and overwhelmed as Alastor’s mouth peppered a trail of kisses from right to left. Alastor shifted slightly between Lucifer’s legs as teeth sunk into the top of his left pectoral just as Alastor’s left hand palmed his groin. The wanton cry that echoed off the walls of their bedroom only served to make Alastor desperate for more. Eagerly succumbing to his need to worship the angel, the agony he had suffered earlier behind him but not forgotten.

An offering of gratitude and declaration of fidelity in a language they shared when words failed. When adoration was beyond articulation and the only thing strong enough to quell their aching hearts was propinquity. The evening had started with Alastor falling apart in Lucifer’s lap… but it would end with Lucifer falling apart in Alastor’s hands.

And they would wake in the morning with tangled hair in wrinkled sheets. Sharing hushed jokes and lazy kisses as the early morning sun colored their room in a hazy, pink glow.

Healing each other one day at a time.

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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @hyperfixations-keep-me-going, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @littlebluefishtail, @hazelfoureyes, @sugoi-writes, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear